Chapter 9

"I hope, my dear, that you have ordered a good dinner to-day, because I have reason to expect an addition to our family party."

Oh, no, spare me the theatrics.

I tune out the conversation and letter reading. Lizzie especially is really into it – she hasn't been allowed out since she caught a cold, and it seems she got it worse than Jane. Her eyes are still a bit rheumy and her nose quite red.

She insists she is well enough for breakfast though, and who am I to say otherwise? Exactly. Her younger sister. Who has no say at all.

I don't think I'm going to enjoy Mr Collins' visit. Lizzie is good at entertaining herself with the follies of others, like Mr Bennet, but somehow I don't work that way. I try to empathize and help and end up losing patience and getting annoyed. And I'm worried having a Mr Collins type person in the house will probably get to me even worse.

"I think he's quite rude to invite himself to our home like this. We do not know him," I say, when questioned about my opinion of the man.

"Oh come now, Mary, not everyone is so nice as you about these things," Mrs Bennet makes shooing motions at me. "I think he must be a fine prospect." She is eyeing me speculatively. This is not good.

"I'm sure," I answer drily. "Such a shame I do not wish to marry."

"You just need to find the right person."

A brief mental picture of Mr Gregory's face comes up. I fight my blush with everything that I have, but I'm not entirely sure I succeed.

"Well, I shall visit the tenants before we must entertain our guest."

The next morning, I contemplate how truly desperate Charlotte Lucas must have been in the original Pride and Prejudice.

Mr Collins isn't exactly bad looking, he's just clumsy, constantly apologizing, and generally makes a nuisance of himself whether he wants to or not. Lizzie, of course, is practically crying with laughter – or maybe she's sniffing so much because she is still a little sick. Jane is poised, Mrs Bennet looks genuinely interested in whatever Collins has to say, and the less said about Mr Bennet, Kitty, and Lydia, the better.

I have to say, I would do a lot for my sisters, but I am so glad that dealing with Collins will fall to Lizzie and not to me. He's not mean spirited, I think, just unbearably stupid.

Take this morning, for instance.

Clearly Mrs Bennet had already warned him away from Jane, so I could see him ogling the rest of us, one by one, (by order of birth, of course), clearly making his choice. This man has the subtlety of a freight train.

Then, when poor, cooped up, Lizzie suggested us sisters went to Meryton, and just when everyone had agreed, he invited himself along (just like he invited himself into our home, I might say). Mrs Bennet was adamant he should go with us. I don't know if she did it for matchmaking purposes or if she's just as tired of him as the rest of us.

Anyway, guess who gets the pleasure of entertaining our guest? Little old me. Lizzie and Jane are catching up after being separated for so long, and Kitty and Lydia are walking ahead. They know to evade possibly dangerous situations better than I, apparently.

Thankfully, we're getting close to Meryton, so at least there will be some variety to the conversation, other than 'Lady Catherine' this and 'Lady Catherine' that. No, I do not need to know about the Christmas gifts she is planning on giving to her staff. And yes, I think that giving them some leftover Christmas pudding really is too stingy.

Kitty and Lydia head to the milliner's, and are eyeing a set of ribbons in the shop window, when I spot a couple of militia men heading our way, accompanied by a man in gentleman's clothing.

Introducing, Mr Wickham, aka my greatest enemy. Any positive bias I had for Darcy evaporated instantly after meeting him – but my negative bias towards Wickham will not budge. I've already got a plan in motion to deal with him.

It's simple enough; my first step was to warn the shopkeepers about extending credit to the militia. They may or may not heed my advice, but at least I tried.

Let's see how welcoming the regiment finds Meryton now.

And I've also decided to spread a rumor about Wickham in particular to my mother and sisters – assaulting a servant girl? The lout! – but that can still wait a few more days to give it credibility.

In the meantime, I can see him trying to chat Lizzie up, while Denny and Carter are entertaining Kitty and Lydia.

Jane has already spotted Bingley, Darcy and Gregory riding up the street. By the time they arrive, and Bingley has dismounted to speak to her, she's got this faint blush on her cheeks which is very pleasing.

Lizzie and Mr Gregory start a conversation, and Collins is trying to talk to me, but I'm on the lookout for the whole Darcy/ Wickham staredown.

And, sure enough, just as he was about to dismount, Darcy catches sight of Wickham and stiffens. Wickham had already noticed Darcy and is now more or less hiding behind his friends Denny and Carter – to Kitty and Lydia's delight.

There's an acknowledgement of Darcy on Whichkam's side – he tips his hat to him. Darcy just glares at him for a long moment, then rides off.

Bingley and Gregory seem surprised by their friend's departure – they didn't notice anything going on – and quickly take their leave to join Darcy.

I'm a bit disappointed to see Mr Gregory leave when I hardly even greeted him, but it was to be expected I suppose.

The rest of the afternoon passes very slowly. Somehow the fact that I try to stay polite with him has led Collins to attach himself to me at every opportunity. It's very annoying to have someone gripe about Lady Catherine this or 'my parish' that when you're just trying to get on with your everyday life. At first, I take the hit, guessing that he is gathering the nerve to speak to Lizzie, but as time goes on I realize that he is actually trying to woo me.

I mean, how else is one supposed to take the remark "I'm sure that your calm temperament would please Lady Catherine greatly" ?

I have to speak with Mrs Bennet when I get home. This will not do.

Mrs Bennet took one look at my fuming face when we got home, and declared she was feeling slightly ill and would spend the rest of the afternoon and evening in her room.

So I spent the rest of the afternoon playing the piano, completely ignoring Collins' hovering. Eventually he gets sick of it and scuttles off to bother Mr Bennet in his study.

As soon as I can, I go to Mrs Bennet's room. The door isn't locked, thankfully, and I enter without knocking. Mrs Bennet jerks awake.

"Mama, I will not marry Mr Collins," I declare in an anxious whisper.

"Oh, dear, he can't have declared himself already, can he?"

I'm confused for a second. "What? No, he hasn't."

"In that case, my dear, how do you know he is interested in marrying you?"

Because I read a book in which it was clear that he came to Longbourne only to marry a Bennet girl, in another life.

"No, no, I'm sure he is just being civil with you, and trying to get to know you better. You should be agreeable to your cousin; he is set to inherit Longbourne should your father pass, after all, and he seems – respectable, at least."

Yes, respectable is just about the strongest positive which can be given to Mr Collins' name.

"Mama, I am in earnest. If your plan is to marry him to me, change it. I will not do it."

I can see Mrs Bennet wants to argue, but I leave the room before she can say another word. I consider her warned.

The next day, Collins is as attentive as ever, but I suppose Mrs Bennet hasn't had the time to speak with him yet. I spend the day trying to interact with him in a normal way; and to correct his obsequiousness, which really isn't necessary in laid back little Meryton.

In the evening, we attend a card party at Mrs Phillips'. I send Mr Collins to Mrs Phillips, where he blunders and apologizes his way through an introduction, before sitting down to a game of cards, very willing to give his money away.

I don't play – I would never waste my hard earned money on a game of chance. Lydia is actually the only one of us sisters to do so, and she has a way of playing – acting so sweet and innocent, but perfectly understanding how the game is played and which odds are for what – which often leads her cardmates wondering where all their money left at the end of the game.

Lizzie and Jane are whispering at each other – about Mr Bingley, I suspect. I would dearly love to join them, and perhaps tell them about my almost hand holding with Mr Gregory, but I see that Kitty is talking to Wickham, and I rather feel it's more urgent to go interrupt their conversation.

"Oh Mary, I'm glad you are here," Kitty says as I arrive. "Mr Wickham has asked me for my opinion on Mr Darcy, and I really didn't know what to say. You know him better than I, probably, from your stay at Netherfield."

"I believe I do, though that does not mean your opinion is less valid. He seems a reserved sort, and perhaps not the easiest to approach, but not unkind."

Urgh, it costs me to defend Darcy's character but I want to see if Wickham will sell his sob story again.

"Oh, then I am very much surprised. I suppose he must have progressed since our last meeting."

Kitty, dear girl, can't contain her curiosity, and he tells her his whole sob story with relatively little prompting. I stay close, and pretend to be invested, but truly I'm watching Kitty.

By the end of the tale, she is frowning.

"This is all very shocking, Mr Wickham, and I can assure you I will keep my silence on this subject. My sister and I are very sorry for you, I'm sure. I'm afraid I am in need of refreshment, might I ask you to fetch my sister and I some punch?"

She grabbed my hand sometime in the middle of the story, and when Wickham is out of earshot she turns to me.

"What a shocking tale! It is very scandalous. I wonder at Mr Wickham telling it to us, when we are barely acquainted." She is looking at him with eyes narrowed with suspicion.

I beam at Kitty. My hard work has paid off! "You are quite right, my dear. I did not dare say anything during your conversation, but from what I have seen Mr Darcy is a good, honourable man. He does not like to dance, and is quite shy, but I believe Mr Wickham and he have a prior acquaintance, and not a good one. We should stay on our guard with both men, but most particularly Mr Wickham, I think."

"Yes, I suppose he thinks this embellished story will make me pity him, and think him more agreeable. I do not like it; it smells of dishonesty and manipulation. I am not as smart about these things as Lizzie and you are, but I am not sure Mr Wickham is entirely trustworthy."

Oh, my dear, if only you knew how Lizzie reacted to such a story in another life! I'm so proud of Kitty. I may have been training all my sisters exactly for this sort of scenario, to beware strangers who seem too familiar too fast, but she has really exceeded my expectations!

"You are a bright young woman, and can think for yourself. I'm very proud of you for it, Kitty, and don't let anybody tell you otherwise. You know, it was only because you took my hand that I became suspicious of Mr Wickham, so in fact you detected his manipulation sooner than I." A slight falsehood, but I have the advantage of knowing that Whickam is a scoundrel since before I arrived in this time. And Kitty needs the confidence boost, I think.

Kitty smiles up at me wryly, happy with the compliment (I hope!), then turns to Mr Wickham, who has brought us some punch.

The rest of the evening passes pleasantly. Say what you want about Wickham, he is a pleasant conversationalist (much better than Mr Collins!) and from a couple of winks sent my way, I'm fairly confident Kitty knows to keep him at arm's length. I can breathe a bit better.