Chapter Nine

"I have heard of the beauty and amiability of your daughters, Mrs. Bennet, but in this case, their fame falls short of the truth. I am sure you will see them all well disposed of in matrimony in due time."

"Thank you, Mr. Collins. I hope it may be so."

They were at dinner. Mr. Collins had taken his place beside Mrs. Bennet, the latter of whom looked livid at this arrangement. Mr. Bennet was watching the scene unfold with delight: all of his expectations of his cousin had been exceeded beyond his wildest dreams. Mr. Collins was a fool. A fool who intended, from the leering way he had examined his daughters, to marry one of them. Mr. Bennet could hardly wait to see that exchange play out.

Mrs. Bennet's mouth pressed into a thin white line as she watched their guest evaluate her silverware and daughters as if they were quite his own. She did not miss how his gaze lingered on her oldest daughter in particular. No. That would never do. By the end of the meal, she was determined that this horrible man would not see Longbourn until the dreaded day of her husband's passing.

Elizabeth, feeling the rudeness of her father and fearing the wrath of her mother, addressed her cousin–if also only to spare her sisters from having to do so.

"It seems, Mr. Collins, that you are very fortunate in the way of patroness–Lady Catherine de Bourgh, I understand, is her name?"

"Ah! Cousin Elizabeth, you are quite right–I have never seen rank combined with such condescension in one person. She is all affability, all civility. I am sure I have never met her equal."

"Has she any children?"

"Indeed, Cousin Jane! She has one daughter, Miss Anne de Bourgh, heiress to Rosings Park, and very extensive property. She is a true testament to her mother's extraordinary capabilities."

Conversation continued on in this way for a time: stilted and sanctimonious, in equal measure. For Mr. Collins's part, he was delighted at the progress of the evening. Believing the eldest Miss Bennet as in love with him as he fancied himself with her, he resolved to broach the issue of marriage with the mother as soon as possible. This delusion satisfied his pride so much that he did not even raise issue with the youngest Bennet, Miss Lydia, a well-formed girl of fifteen when she objected to his reading of Fordyce's Sermons after the evening meal. He watched with admiration and vindication as her eldest two sisters took her in hand immediately, so much so that he read a novel to the ladies with great dignity. What harm could there be when there was clearly so much capacity and charm? Miss Elizabeth Bennet, though not as handsome as her eldest sister in that classic way, was then as quickly decided to be on the reserve if, for whatever reason, Miss Bennet was engaged elsewhere.

To Miss Bennet, these intentions were unknown, but to Elizabeth, who had more of a skill of discernment, could guess at their sycophantic cousin's plans immediately and feared for her sister.

At Netherfield, the days after the eldest Bennet sisters' abrupt departure were quite dull, as the ladies of that house frequently reminded the gentlemen. Everyone in the neighborhood was beneath their notice to form an acquaintance, aside from perhaps Miss Jane Bennet, but that opportunity had exhausted itself.

"What do you mean?" Asked Bingley, looking distraught upon hearing his sisters' mentioning the circumstances of the Bennets' snub of the Netherfield snidely. "Why would they have snubbed us?"

"Oh, Charles, don't you see?" said Miss Bingley, disdainful. "Mrs. Bennet has it fixed in her mind that Miss Bennet, at the very least, will marry a lord. She would hardly condescend to throw her in your path. And with Miss Eliza being so high and mighty, I'm sure she thinks herself quite above our company."

"But what can you mean? Miss Bennet came at your invitation if you recall. And they both were perfectly pleasant while they were here—I never heard a complaint out of either of them, and goodness knows Miss Bennet had reason enough."

"Miss Bennet is a sweet girl," said Mrs. Hurst, glancing at her sister, "I would rather think she had been imposed upon by her sister and mother to go along with their slight to us rather than her wishing to cut our acquaintance herself."

"But why would they wish to? Could it be a misunderstanding of some sort? Might we have offended them? You were always so teasing of Miss Elizabeth, Caroline."

"Does not a hostess have the right to ask questions of the guest she has so graciously allowed into her house? I thought Miss Eliza abominably rude in her replies to me."

"Curt, perhaps, but only because you were being so very invasive. And this is most vexing! I had rather hoped to acquaint myself with that family more."

"No, Charles, you will do better than Jane Bennet," Miss Bingley said, casting her eyes at Mr. Darcy, who was apparently deeply engaged in his book. He turned a page idly.

Later, however, when Bingley and Darcy were going over numbers from the last harvest, Bingley thought it imperative to follow up.

"Darce, do you understand any more about this business of the Bennets than I? I would so hate to be at odds with such a prominent neighbor so early into my lease. Suppose I decide to buy?"

"Very sensible of you. It's my opinion that your sisters are right–for the most part," Darcy said grudgingly.

"The Bennets are so conceited as to not wish to be connected with me? Rather out of character, isn't it? I thought the mother's brothers were in trade."

"A connection she perhaps despises for the sake of her daughters. It is my view, however, that Miss Elizabeth is not so discriminatory. She told me of that herself."

Bingley raised an eyebrow. "How did such a subject come up?"

"I asked her directly if that was the reason for her snub of you. She said it was not your situation but rather your sisters' behavior."

Bingley frowned. "She said that?"

"Not in those words. She merely took offense at being called supercilious and offensive to your friends, and there is no doubt in my mind that she meant them."

"Oh dear," sighed Bingley. "I was rather hoping Caroline wouldn't offend my guests—especially as lovely and pleasant as they were. Well, I will speak to Caroline and Louisa both about their behavior at any rate—unless—," his eyes shone with excitement, "perhaps I can get them to extend an apology to the Bennet family for their insults!"

"You'd have better luck getting Napoleon to concede," observed Darcy, feeling privately relieved that continuing a connection to the Bennets was out of the question. He had admired Elizabeth Bennet far more than he cared to admit for all her sharpness and ridiculous parents.

"Blast it! You're right. Wait—I've got it! I'll apologize on their behalf. Could I send them back to London? Nicholls is more than capable of running the house, and Lousia and Lawrence have got to settle down soon enough." Bingley clapped his hands together.

Alarmed, Darcy interjected: "You'd send your relations back on so slight a reason as their offending the country gentry?"

"They can't complain—well, more than they already have. My sisters have expressed more than once how dull they find the society and how limiting the entertainment is. No, I'll set Caroline up in a house in town, and Louisa will be soon to follow: she always has trailed after Caroline."

And so, a plan was hatched. Bingley decided on having his sisters leave the day after his planned ball, journeying with him when he went on business, and staying in London. Darcy could not lament the loss of Caroline Bingley or her sister and brother-in-law. He found their society to be overbearing and lacking in sense, and so it was only half-heartedly that he advised against the scheme. The reparations to the ladies of Longbourn were to be made the following day.

The very day of Mr. Bingley's scheduled apology came. At Longbourn, Elizabeth's worries over Mr. Collins and her poor sister were in vain. A fifteen-minute meeting with the mother informed Mr. Collins of Jane's plans to travel to London. Mrs. Bennet hinted that it was widely expected that she would meet her match there. Thus, unknown to the mother and second daughter, Mr. Collins, gratified in his prognostication and forethought, made the switch to proposing to Elizabeth Bennet without much regret. He planned pragmatically to do it at the end of his stay—after all, convinced he was in his success, it was better to court the lady he intended to spend the rest of his days with to show the proper consideration to her sex and gentle breeding.

That same day, Lydia reminded her sisters of the promise of a walk to town. Mr. Bennet, in no less foreseeing a humorous event when his cousin should propose to one of his daughters then being desirous of seeing Mr. Collins out of his library, endorsed this scheme. To Meryton, the Bennet sisters (minus Mary, who much preferred to look over the estate's bookkeeping) and their cousin Collins set off.

"Do you often walk into Meryton, Miss Elizabeth?" Mr. Collins panted, endeavoring to keep up with his sprightly cousin. He had solemnly asked for the favor of accompanying her, which both parties were regretting: he for her lightness of foot, and she, for his general company and heavy breathing.

"Yes, Mr. Collins, we walk to see my Aunt Phillips."

"This is your mother's sister?" Mr. Collins said, almost running to keep pace.

"Yes, indeed."

"And her husband is perhaps in some line of trade?" He asked, wincing delicately at the vulgar relations he must demean himself to marry into.

"He is a solicitor," said Elizabeth cheerfully.

"A modest calling, but respectful!" Mr. Collins said, a little relieved.

They reached the town, paying first a visit to the milliner's shop, per Kitty's request, and then the circulating library, per Lydia's. As they were exiting, a handsome young man of about six-and-twenty brushed by Elizabeth, knocking the novel from her hands to the ground, causing both to start and leap apart.

"Oh! Pardon me."

"The fault is entirely mine, Miss—?"

"Bennet, sir. Miss Elizabeth Bennet."

"Well," said he, stooping down to retrieve the book and gallantly offering it to Elizabeth. "I do hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me, Miss Bennet—I promise I am not in the habit of crashing into young ladies, especially ones as lovely as yourself."

At this point, both parties of the unknown (a gentleman, Elizabeth guessed, for his disarmingly handsome face and cut figure), and Elizabeth, had clustered around the pair. Kitty and Lydia were chattering excitedly, and Mr. Collins was all awkward chivalry, beginning to fuss after Elizabeth.

"I believe, sir," the unnamed gentleman said, smoothly displacing Mr. Collins from Elizabeth's side, "the responsibility of looking after a lady must fall to the one who so thoroughly upset her. Please allow me the honor to attend Miss Bennet, as is my duty."

Mr. Collins huffed and puffed but did as the man asked.

"Might I have the honor of knowing my attendant's name?" Asked Elizabeth, smiling.

"Wickham," said he, smiling with equal warmth. "And this here is Mr. Denny. Now you must introduce me to your friends, Miss Bennet, as fairness demands."

"These are three of my four sisters, Jane, the oldest and best of us, and Kitty and Lydia, my youngest sisters. Mary is at home today."

"Such loveliness and amiability I have never seen!" Mr. Wickham cried, to which Mr. Denny nodded their assent. "Ladies of beauty and refinement," he added, tilting his head toward the now-forgotten book in Elizabeth's hands.

"Lizzy," Jane breathed in her ear, "Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy."

Distracted, Elizabeth looked around. Sure enough, the two gentlemen of Netherfield were nearing them on horseback. "Turn away," she hissed, "turn away, maybe they won't—"

"Miss Bennet!"

Mr. Bingley had caught sight of them and was urging his mount forward. Mr. Darcy followed. Bingley dismounted, jumping to stand in front of Jane. Mr. Darcy quitted his horse with more dignity and came to stand near Mr. Denny and Kitty. It did not seem, Elizabeth realized, that he had recognized her presence yet.

"Did you know," said Bingley happily, "we were on our way to inquire after you, Miss Bennet? But I see you are very well."

Jane could not help but smile. "Indeed, sir. You find me much recovered."

"Oh, and your sisters are with you—delightful! Good day, Miss Elizabeth, Miss Kitty—-and Miss Lydia, of course."

The girls curtseyed in greeting, and Elizabeth took great pleasure in Mr. Darcy stepping back in surprise at the mention of her name.

"I believe I must apologize," Bingley said, who had eyes only for Jane. "I am afraid you have found my conduct during your stay at Netherfield wanting. I hope you will do me the honor of forgiving me."

"I wish I could, Mr. Bingley, if I only knew what to forgive you for."

"Mr. Bingley! Are you, perhaps, the Mr. Bingley from west of Kent, where my esteemed patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, resides?"

The whole party turned to stare at Mr. Collins, and Elizabeth blushed at her cousin exposing himself in such a manner. She stepped forward to see Mr. Darcy go a shade redder than he had been.

"Mr. Bingley, I'm afraid you haven't met our cousin, Mr. Collins, who is lately staying with us. Mr. Collins, this is Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy, and these gentlemen are Mr. Denny and Mr. Wickham."

As she introduced their new acquaintances, Mr. Darcy's expression grew more and more drawn until it was finally a stony, unreadable expression. Mr. Wickham's face she also saw: he went pale at the mention of Darcy but reached up to touch his hat, a gesture that Mr. Darcy just deigned to return.

Mr. Bingley, perhaps detecting the tension, said that no, he was not the same Mr. Bingley west of Kent but that he had heard of Mr. Collins's patroness. Predicting a scene more embarrassing for herself and her sisters than for her cousin, Elizabeth quickly spoke again.

"How kind of you to call on us, Mr. Bingley—how fortuitous it was we ran into you as we were just on our way to visit our Aunt Phillips, who lives up the street."

"Well!" Mr. Bingley said, with real desperation now, as Mr. Darcy and Mr. Wickham were seemingly locked in a telepathic dialogue, and there was a real danger of Mr. Collins continuing to speak. "We should be very happy to escort you there. Might we call on you tomorrow?"

To this, Jane acceded and took his proffered arm, his other holding the reins of his horse.

"Miss Elizabeth," Mr. Wickham said, giving Elizabeth his arm and stepping past Darcy. Mr. Denny offered his arm to Kitty, who took it, giggling, and Lydia took Mr. Darcy's arm without invitation, dragging him past the hapless Mr. Collins.

To the Phillips's, they walked, this odd party of five gentlemen, four ladies, and two steeds. At the door, the gentlemen and horses bid farewell to the ladies and Mr. Collins and left in the opposite direction, both pairs speaking furiously amongst each other. What could be the meaning of the interaction between Mr. Wickham and Mr. Darcy? It was impossible not to wish to know. Numb by her musings, she endured the company of the tedious Mr. Collins's company through the rest of the call to her aunt. The latter invited them all to a soiree at her home the following day and promised to extend the offer to any of the gentlemen that had so handsomely escorted her fair nieces.

Upon their separation from the Bennet sisters, Darcy found himself immediately questioned by his friend as they rode back to Netherfield.

"What is your defense for your rudeness to the Miss Bennets? What could they have done to offend you now?"

"I was not rude."

"Blast it, Darcy, you were. You didn't so much as greet the ladies and looked entirely angry at escorting Miss Lydia to her aunts. She is only fifteen, you know: her forwardness is the byproduct of her youth."

"It was not the Miss Bennets that was the object of my fury. It was their friend, Wickham."

"Wickham," Bingley frowned. "Not the Wickham from your youth?"

"The very same. He should not be allowed in the company of young ladies, though I am not surprised he has wormed his way into the company of the Bennets."

"That seems quite harsh a punishment for his faults of character," said Bingley, discomfited.

"His faults of character," said Darcy coldly, "are nothing to the lack of honor and vile mercenary acts that sketch his person."

Bingley gaped. "What has he done to merit this condemnation?"

Darcy shifted in his seat. He had not planned on sharing this story with anyone, but he felt that Bingley, at least, must know of the dangers such a man posed in this neighborhood.

"He imposed himself on Georgiana last summer in a manner that will make it hard to soon forget his crimes."

"He didn't—-?!"

"Her reputation and honor remain intact. By chance, I discovered his scheme to elope with her for her fortune the day before they were to Scotland. It seems I had hired an unscrupulous companion for her in Mrs. Younge."

"Good heavens, Darce, I didn't know."

"I bought his silence and that of any other witness. Georgiana, as you could imagine, was mortified and devastated at disappointing her brother so. Her heart is still healing under the thoroughly-vetted Mrs. Annesley's stewardship."

"You don't imagine it could have been a real attachment on either part?"

Darcy bristled. "Certainly not. Wickham meant entirely to revenge himself upon me and reward himself with my sister's portion. And Georgiana is young yet—she must have been entirely confused and convinced to believe herself in love with the scoundrel."

"My pardon, Darcy. I only hoped Wickham not so bad as you believed. Do you think we ought to warn our acquaintances?"

"How would we accomplish that without ruining my sister? The man is as slippery as an eel and will surely let slip the circumstances of his despicable acts."

They had reached Netherfield, where Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst stood at the front door to greet them.

"Bad behavior or not," said Bingley in a low voice as they dismounted and handed off their mounts to the grooms, "I would not wish such a horrid fortune hunter upon my sister. You may do as you please and hold the world in contempt, but I will not expose Caroline to such a man. Ah, Caroline, Louisa—good of you to come and collect us." And, taking the arms of both his sisters, Bingley gave Darcy a meaningful look and led his sisters inside.


Author's Note (April 18, 2022)

Sorry for the delay in getting this chapter posted—life caught up with me and kind of steamrollered me for a bit, there. Hello and welcome to Mr. Collins! Hopefully we will see the back of him very soon. We also see some changes from canon in this chapter with regards to the interactions between Darcy and Bingley, and Darcy and Wickham. Eagle-eyed readers will spot my small homage to my favorite P&P adaptation (although, there are several references to many different adaptations in this chapter—a cookie for you if you can find them all!). As always, kind and constructive feedback is always appreciated :)

BCM