Author's Note: Hello everyone… It's been a long while, hasn't it?
Please allow me to apologise for my extended absence. It had never been my intention to disappear for so long a time. But, as many of you might have already guessed, in the wake of my mother's passing, I have found it difficult to return to my writing. And though I have been working on this story since March, it is only in the past week that I have made any real progress. I have dozens of drafts on my computer for this computer (each ranging from a couple of paragraphs to a couple of pages), and not a single one of them worked! I just couldn't seem to get what needed to be said down on the page. I got so desperate I even tried writing this chapter in different PoVs - which was the stupidest thing I possibly could have ever done since this chapter needed to be Charlotte centric, in order to set up for what follows... Which reminds me, anyone interested in three paragraphs of a Charlotte backstory written in Colonel Fitzwilliam's PoV?
Needless to say, I floundered. It's only when I took a few steps back that I was actually able to move forward with the story. As such, I should warn you guys that there will be some redundancy to this chapter. I had to revisit the infamous settee incident. I had never intended to describe that scene in any great detail, but imagining the various PoVs around it (most especially Charlotte's), is what allowed me to make progress this week. But, not to worry, this chapter is not solely about the settee incident (although it does take up a great chunk of the chapter). I was able to weave the beginnings of Charlotte's backstory through it, which is great. But, with this new set up, I get the feeling that it's going to take a few chapters to get the whole of it all out of the way. That's the bad news. The good news; I have decided to expand this story beyond the scope I had originally planned. The development of the story remains unchanged, but I will not be focusing solely on Mr. and Mrs. Collins' PoVs. So, you will all be getting more Elizabeth and Darcy PoVs then I had ever planned. This also means that a story that was supposed to be completed within eight chapters (including the Prologue and Epilogue), will now be quite a bit longer. I won't venture a guess as to how long it will become. As I never planned any other PoVs, I have a feeling that I, just as you dear reader, will likely be surprised by where my pen takes me. Though, again, the Collinses' side of the story shall remain unchanged, and the ending will be as I always planned it (migotka21, if you are still here, I hope you enjoy it).
With that said, I would like to now take the time to thank you all for your care and understanding in the past year. So many of you reached out to me and offered your condolences and your understanding - some of you even went so far as to share your own experiences with me - and all I can really say is thank you. Thank you so much. You cannot know how much it has meant to me – how much your support has helped me. And so, more than anything else today, I would like to extend my sympathies to those of you that have suffered your own loses. Losing someone you love, no matter the circumstances, is hardly an easy thing to get over. I myself doubt I will ever truly get over my loss. But if there is something that I have learned this past year, it's that every kindness helps.
So, once more, thank you.
Mr. Collins' Easter
By Winterspell1812
Chapter 4
Having been born as naught but the daughter of a lowly tradesman, Mrs. Collins had long ago been made to understand that society, on the whole, could be exceedingly cruel when it so chose to be. Indeed, the parson's wife could hardly have failed to note this most unpleasant truth. For, in a realm ruled by and large by the caprices of the elite few, a tradesman's daughter without fortune could scarcely evade society's prejudices (and this, in spite of any elevation in rank bestowed upon her father). Thus, in consequence of such bigotry, Mrs. Collins had unduly suffered many injustices throughout her life.
Indeed, as a little girl, the merchants' children of Meryton had often taunted her most cruelly. Disdainful of those they judged beneath them (which in their opinion, included skilled craftsmen such as her father), the horrid little creatures likened her to naught but a lowly servant's daughter. Mocking her for her family's relative poverty (her father's burgeoning trade having yet established itself in the small market town, and her family's limited means reflecting as much),they would gleefully proclaim to one and all that was she most assuredly destined for a life of service and drudgery. This wretched experience, unfortunately, soon proved to be but the first in a series of unhappy incidents – incidents which, in time, served not only to greatly dampen Charlotte's tender spirits, but eventually formed her very character.
The second incident of note unfolded within the hallowed halls of Miss. Prewitt's Seminary for Young Ladies. For Mr. Lucas, having vastly improved his family's fortunes in the seven years since he had established his trade, subsequently sought to improve his daughter's prospects. Therefore, at the tender age of eleven, a young Charlotte Lucas was sent off to finishing school – albeit one which catered primarily to the daughters of tradesmen and merchants.
Her first semester, though not overly remarkable, proved quite beneficial to the little girl. Indeed, after years of being mocked by those who would deem themselves her betters, the young lady not only endured, but positively flourished in this new, diverse social milieu. Thus, by her second semester at Miss. Prewitt's, Charlotte had not only acquired several friends, but considered three amongst them to be her closest and dearest confidents. This happy condition, however, abruptly altered altogether during her fourth semester at Miss. Prewitt's. When the leading young ladies of the seminary, resentful that she should be elevated to the status of the daughter of a Knight (and likely fearing an alteration in the school's social hierarchy), turned their bitter tongues against her. Thus singled out as undesirable by the elite of the school, Charlotte was soon scorned at large, even by those she had once considered to be her friends.
The third, much lamented event occurred when Charlotte, as a young gentlewoman newly introduced to society, was disregarded altogether by the eligible young men of Meryton. In her stead, these discerning gentlemen preferred to favor ladies with prettier faces (but smaller fortunes), better breeding (but poorer manners), and richer fortunes (but lesser beauty).
As for the fourth – and most reprehensible – event, Charlotte Lucas still could not, to this very day, think upon the event with any measure of equanimity.
Thus, in light of such wretched experiences, it should be of little wonder that the erstwhile Miss. Lucas should seek to guard herself against the petty slights and thoughtless jabbering of others. Nor that she should, in consequence, eventually determine that the best course of action with regards to society should be to dissemble altogether.
Therefore, whenever Mrs. Bennet would have the temerity to remark upon her woeful lack of prospects, Charlotte would only smile at a mortified Elizabeth (all the while, taking great delight in contemplating the certain knowledge that, upon the demise of Mr. Bennet, that vile woman and her wretched daughters would lose not only their home, but their wealth and status as well.)
And similarly, whenever her neighbours (in their infinite care) would loudly speculate as to the likelihood of her ever wedding (and by and large agree that she would most certainly be reduced to a life of servitude at the hands of her younger brother and his family), Charlotte would feign ignorance of the petty amusements they took at her expense. But, with every callous remark and delighted snicker, Mrs. Collins' resentment with her neighbors grew accordingly.
None, however, tested Charlotte's equanimity more so than the ridiculous Mr. Collins.
"Certainly, Mr. Darcy," her husband exclaimed, startling the room at large. Colonel Fitzwilliam, who had hitherto been enjoying his tea, jolted at the unexpected cry, spilling the beverage upon his stark white breeches. With a muttered oath, that gentleman swiftly retrieved a serviette from the tea tray (a lovely bit of ivory cloth which Lady Lucas had gifted to her daughter upon her wedding day, and which Mrs. Collins had then carefully embroidered for formal occasions). And, with this most precious cloth, the Colonel proceeded to blot the tea stains upon his breeches.
Seated beside him, Mrs. Collins watched, aghast.
Mr. Collins, naturally, remained wholly ignorant of the misfortune he had caused Colonel Fitzwilliam. "Why," the fool continued with feverish excitement, "Lady Catherine's ingenious application of shelves to our bedroom closets alone have not only significantly improved the orderliness of our home, but greatly increased our comfort as well."
"Mr. Collins," a scowling Mr. Darcy interjected, hoping to silence the fool once more.
Charlotte, who had hitherto been distracted by the ignoble fate of her serviette (now stained as a result of Colonel Fitzwilliam's misuse), was startled by the vehemence of that gentleman's tone. Returning her attentions to her company, the parson's wife was dismayed to note that, with his latest display of impropriety, her husband had greatly offended Mr. Darcy. Indeed, with pursed lips, flushed cheeks and glowering eyes, one could hardly overlook that gentleman's growing ire. Mr. Collins, however, determined as he was to secure Mr. Darcy's approbation, noticed naught amiss. Thus, an apprehensive Charlotte observed as her husband advanced upon the settee with great determination, his large, portly figure waddling forth with astonishing swiftness.
"But of course, this is to say nothing of that Great Lady's condescension in guiding Mrs. Collins' management of our humble abode," Mr. Collins prattled on, hardly pausing for breath as he reached Mr. Darcy's side. And, sweeping his arms wide open, the parson proceeded to awkwardly shuffle his way past that illustrious gentleman, careful all the while to remain facing Mr. Darcy (dear, dear Mr. Darcy).
Elizabeth, for her own part, had little more than a moment to comprehend what the ridiculous man was about. When, suddenly, her view of Mr. Darcy was obstructed by Mr. Collins' backside.
"Indeed," the parson continued, inserting his corpulent form betwixt Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth, "if not for my patroness' kind supervision, I know not how my dear Charlotte should have learnt to be a proper mistress to my household."
At this affront, Mrs. Collins (in spite of her many years of practice) could not retain her composure. With an offended gasp, she glared at the foolish man, her cheeks flushing red from anger.
The insult, however, was not yet at an end.
"After all, Mrs. Collins could hardly have been expected to understand the subtleties of managing a gentleman's household," the parson stated, stooping to take a seat at the settee (and thereby presenting Elizabeth with an unobstructed view of his buttocks).
Startled, a flustered Miss. Elizabeth attempted to make way (understanding in that moment that if she did not, the reprehensible man would alight upon her). Unfortunately, as the settee had never been meant to seat three, there was not much room to make way with.
Thus, finding himself unable to settle in his seat properly (and supposing that his grasping cousin would not give way), Mr. Collins sought to create space where there was none. "With consideration of her upbringing, of course," Mr. Collins grunted, adding insult to injury, as he wiggled his voluminous buttocks; and, in consequence, carelessly forced Elizabeth aside, shoving her ribcage most painfully against the arm rest of the settee.
"Oh," Elizabeth cried out, struck by the force of the blow.
Misconstruing the cause of her outcry, Mr. Collins frowned at his cousin's audacity. That she would seek to publically protest her proper removal from Mr. Darcy's side was truly beyond the pale. As such, the parson rightfully refused to give her consequence. "Truly," Mr. Collins continued, deliberately ignoring Elizabeth's pained gasp, "our home would have certainly been all the poorer without Lady Catherine's guiding hand."
"Mr. Collins!" Darcy snarled, seething at the sight of Miss. Elizabeth's abuse. Infuriated, the gentleman made to stand, intent upon forcefully removing the despicable parson from Elizabeth's person.
Most unfortunately, however, having at that moment determined that the space he had perforce liberated was insufficient for his comfort, Mr. Collins wiggled his rump once more.
Thus, already in a considerable amount of pain, an astonished Elizabeth could do little more than cry out, utterly shocked as she was most unceremoniously removed from her seat.
"Elizabeth!" Mr. Darcy exclaimed, distressed at the sight of Miss. Elizabeth being shoved to the sitting room floor. Lurching from his seat, the gentleman made a desperate bid to catch her. The attempt, however, soon proved ill fated. For, although Mr. Darcy did succeed in grasping a hold of the lady's arm, the gentleman failed to take proper note of his footing and consequently stumbled over the parson's feet.
For his own part, an appalled Mr. Collins was left to gap indecorously as his grasping cousin, having seen fit to throw herself from the settee, pulled the illustrious Mr. Darcy along with her.
Okay, so probably not as much development as you all would have liked. But, I hope that you did enjoy this chapter all the same. I promise there will be more development (and more of Mr. Collins' foolishness), in the next chapter.