Author's Note:
Hello everyone,
I hope you all like this little one shot I cooked up. It is my first tentative foray into the fandom, I wish you all enjoy it. Please be sure to tell me what you think of it...
As you might guess, this takes place following Mr. Collins rejected proposal and his subsequent departure for Lucas Lodge.
The Teacup
By Winterspell1812
"Mr. Collins!" the mistress wailed loudly.
Mrs. Hill sighed, abandoning Miss Lizzie's laundry and drying her hands upon her apron. As quickly as she could, the housekeeper made her way over to the store cupboard, intent on retrieving more of Mrs. Bennet's smelling salts. By the sound of her mistress' loud, distressed wails, Mrs. Hill had but a moment to contemplate how to proceed.
"Oh, Mr. Collins," the lady cried out once more, before breaking off into heaving sobs of despair.
Once more Mrs. Bennet's hopes to see one of her daughters wed had been dashed. If only the mistress would learn to understand that though she might have been happy with a marriage based on convenience, her daughters might not, then her mistress might not be so disappointed when her schemes came to naught. Unfortunately, as the mistress was chiefly concerned with her own future, that lady could not be brought to understand why any of her girls would refuse such a man as Mr. Collins. Of course, having known the mistress since her infancy, Mrs. Hill well knew that Mrs. Bennet herself would have refused Mr. Collins in her youth. In truth, she likely would have derided the man, blithely called him a repugnant toad and laughed at any young woman who felt so desperate as to accept Mr. Collins' offer. Now, however, with the threat of the entail upon her, and faced with the reality that she might soon be left without a home and a handsome income, Mrs. Bennet was eager to see her daughters married to any viable suitor who could support her in the style in which she had grown accustomed. As such, a man who would one day inherit her beloved Longbourn, no matter how ridiculous and ill-favored, was indeed an attractive catch in Mrs. Bennet's opinion.
Of course, it need not be mentioned that Mrs. Bennet's opinion might have differed greatly if it had been one of her favorite daughters, or may the Lord forbid, she herself that would have had to go to bed with Mr. Collins.
Needless to say, when faced with the prospect of arranging a match between one of her daughters and Mr. Collins, Mrs. Bennet quickly chose her least favored daughter. Mrs. Hill knew all too well that her mistress disliked her second born. "Miss Lizzy," the mistress would often say, "thinks much too well of herself. Her father says she is clever and the girl preens and flutters. Well, I say she is not so clever. If she were, she would learn to still her wicked tongue. She shall not be able to catch herself a husband if she continues in this stupid manner. No man will want a wife that believes she is far too clever for her own good. I am convinced Elizabeth will become on old maid and live on the charity of her sisters. What could Mr. Bennet be thinking to favor her so? Elizabeth does not have Jane's beauty – nor does she have my dear Lydia's liveliness! Now they, they shall be the ones to save me from the Hedgerows. Mark my words Hill."
And so, when Mr. Collins confirmed he wished to take a wife from among the Bennet daughters, Mrs. Hill knew her mistress had felt it to be a godsend. That lady had wasted no time in boasting to her housekeeper of the brilliance of the match. "One daughter married," Mrs. Bennet had cried delightfully, crowing of the match as if it were a fait accomplie. Mrs. Bennet had giggled and clapped her hands happily, "Oh Hill," she had cried, "how blessed I am. Soon, Miss Lizzy will be married to Mr. Bennet's heir and my future shall be secured. I shall not have to fear the hedgerows any longer. And best of all, I will not be forced to give way to some little upstart. I shall spend the rest of my days as Mistress of Longbourn!"
Mrs. Hill could only be thankful that her master, despite wishing to be left to his books, had not given way to the mistress. For if Miss Elizabeth had been forced to wed Mr. Collins, Mrs. Bennet's future would not have been as rosy as that lady believed it would have been. For one, Mrs. Hill highly doubted Miss Lizzy would have allowed her mother to retain control over Longbourn. Thus Mrs. Bennet would not have remained mistress of the house, and she would not have had any say in the running of the house or in its social obligations. Secondly, though Mr. Collins might have been worked upon to allow his widowed mother-in- law and his unwed sisters to remain at Longbourn, Mrs. Hill did not believe the man would have allowed her to spend so much as a pence without his permission. Thus, all those pretty little Knick knacks, bits of lace and fabrics which Mrs. Bennet would usually charge to the household accounts once she ran out of pin money would have been quite beyond her. And lastly, if Miss Elizabeth had been forced to wed Mr. Collins in spite of inclinations, she would have seen to it that her mother rued the day.
"Oh," Mrs. Bennet cried, "My nerves. My nerves. Oh, how I suffer so!"
At this, the matter was quite decided, and Mrs. Hill knew how to act.
Quickly, she bustled about the kitchen, preparing all that would be needed for her mistress. And as she prepared the tea pot, neither the cook nor the maid raised so much as an eyebrow.
It was but a minute later when Mrs. Hill entered the sitting room, tea tray in hand, to find the mistress weeping upon the settee. If the housekeeper had not already known that the mistress had sown her own disappointment, if she had been a stranger to the household, she would have thought the lady made quite a pitiable figure. But as it was, four decades of service to Fanny Bennet had rendered Mrs. Hill quite inured to her fits, and so the mistress' red face and crocodile tears bothered her not a whit.
Having failed to elicit a response from her husband, locked away in his book room as he was, Mrs. Bennet's wails increased in pitch and intensity as she noticed Mrs. Hill's entrance. As always, her faithful servant was to act as a sympathetic audience, soothing the wounds of her hardships and offering her the attention she so yearned for.
Just like Miss Kitty, the housekeeper thought, amused.
Settling the tea tray aside, Mrs. Hill retrieved the smelling salts from the pocket of her apron and handed them to her mistress without so much as a word. At the sight of the pretty little lavender pouch, Mrs. Bennet's cries turned to heaving sobs as she quickly snatched the pouch from the servant's hand. Bringing it up to her nose, the mistress inhaled deeply. As always, the overwhelming scent of the smelling salts saw the mistress break out into a coughing fit. But she remained undeterred. Through the coughing and the heaving breaths, the lady carried on her tantrum, sobbing all the while.
Mrs. Hill sighed and retrieved the tea tray as her mistress once more brought the smelling salts up to her nose.
By the time Mrs. Hill had set the tray before her and checked that the tea was properly steeped, Mrs. Bennet had regained herself somewhat. Her cough had ceased and her sobs had quieted down to a to a whimper, made fulsome by some mild sniffling. And so, it was in this state that lady began venting her spleen to her most trusted servant.
She began by bemoaning the loss of Mr. Collins and of all that she would have gained from seeing the parson married to her least favored daughter.
Then, the mistress began to describe in vivid detail all those faults which she found in Miss Lizzy. And as that lady spoke of how foolish, of how self-important and ill- favored the girl was – Mrs. Hill retrieved pretty little teacup, with pink flowers on the outer rim and saucer from the tea tray and set it before her mistress.
Soon, Mrs. Bennet was once more recounting the tale of Mr. Darcy's insult. This lead to a tirade of how the mistress was certain that all of the gentlemen who encountered Miss Lizzy were of the same opinion, and of how the girl would never again find a man who would choose to overlook her defects such as Mr. Collins had – and Mrs. Hill calmly poured out the tea into Mrs. Bennet's little tea cup.
And so it was that as Mrs. Bennet cursed her daughter once more for her audacity in choosing to be born a daughter rather than a son, Mrs. Hill nodded along and placed four sugars into the delicate tea cup, stirred it and offered the beverage to her mistress.
Thus it was as the mistress vowed that she would not support the ungrateful girl once Mr. Bennet died and left them to the hedgerows that Mrs. Bennet began to grow listless. Though that great lady did her outmost to continue her tirade, her speech soon became slurred despite herself and her eyes drooped. Thankfully, experience ensured that Mrs. Hill was well able to gently pry the pretty little tea cup from her mistress' hand before that dear lady dropped it.
Within a minute, the mistress was soundly asleep – and within ten minutes, the butler, aided by the groomsman, had carried Mrs. Bennet upstairs to her rooms. There, Mrs. Hill stripped her mistress, put her in her nightgown and tucked her into bed.
When the housekeeper returned to the kitchen, young Sally looked up, smiled and asked, "Should I hide the laudanum back into to the store cupboard, mam?"