Elizabeth gasped in shock as I mostly expected, but then schooled herself into a mask of iron in amazingly short order, and at the moment she seemed quite prepared to murder me on the spot. My Lizzy had never been so vindictive before, and she was the cleverest of my daughters so surely she would have worked out that this was the only way to save the family! How could she hold this marriage against me with such venom? Certainly I could have done better by my girls, but I had at least given her a good living and she was to be mistress of Longbourn and well secured for life.

Since the reaper made his first warning visit the night of the Netherfield ball I knew my days were numbered, but I had never told anyone. Perhaps she would not hate me so much had I confided in her, but it seemed too late now. Whatever my faults, on the very next day after that cursed ball, in one fell swoop, I secured a future for all my girls; yet this daughter had no appreciation at all for how much it would affect her mother and sisters.

Certainly Collins was a silly man, but every man these girls were likely to meet was silly and ignorant, so why was he any worse than the next? A clever girl like Lizzy could certainly manage the sod. On the other hand, this ignorant girl might think she preferred poverty to Collins, but only because she had not the slightest idea what poverty really looked like. Whether Collins might have been better off with Mary or another daughter was immaterial. He asked for Elizabeth, due to my silly and ignorant wife's machinations, and with very limited choices I did my best.

After the events at that hated ball in Netherfield, at least Elizabeth certainly had no more illusions about her former favorite, Wickham, or his spiritual brothers Bingley and Darcy. They had all shown their true colors when it came right down to it. Shaking my head a bit to gather my wits, I came back to the present to deal with my recalcitrant daughter.

Elizabeth did not relent in the least. I could feel hatred pouring off her like flames, but I had to be steady to my purpose if I was to prevent utter ruin of the family. I assumed I would have to talk about my failings as a father with my maker at another time, but for now I had things that must be done, unpleasant as they may be. Now was not the time to show weakness.

Elizabeth asked too casually, "Has he tried to ruin anybody else besides Mary King and Lydia, or run up even more debts?"

I replied with the mildest tone I could, knowing she was looking at me murderously.

"Nobody knows where he is; but make no mistake; should he live when he inherits he will have what he thinks is a justifiable revenge on the Bennets. Since Mary was the one to stop his supposed elopement with Lydia, I do not think he will look on your sisters favorably. Mary saved Lydia's life, but your sisters are all diminished by what gossip we could not contain. Even should I locate the man and have him taken to debtors' prison, he could get out easily with the proceeds from inheriting Longbourn. Even if he has been transported or emigrated, he could eventually come back to make a claim. He is a threat to the entire Bennet family, and even the entire community where you spent most of your life. Longbourn would not survive a fortnight after his inheritance, and much of Meryton might collapse soon after."

I expected that to reach the girl, but I still may as well have been talking to a statue for all the reaction I got aside from the open hostility, which she should well have outgrown by now. She acted as if she were the first woman in history to have an arranged marriage for the benefit of her family, or as if I had matched her with some terrible man instead of just a bumbling fool. If Jane could not even secure a match in Meryton, what chance did any of the other girls have?

Elizabeth asked with much more hostility than I ever imagined she possessed, "Why are you here Bennet? How do you expect me to correct this problem of your creation once again? I have already been forced to sacrifice my own life to your indolence; what more do you have the gall to ask of me?"

So, not even the courtesy of calling me mister, let alone father. I was well and truly on her bad side, and my next demand would be even more unpalatable, but I would not see my family be tossed into the hedgerows because she was missish. It was time for her to do her duty.

"You must bear a son!"

Her countenance was still hostile, but now contained what looked like a trace of grim amusement in it. Nobody who did not know her intimately would see it, but it was there and I doubted it was to my benefit. Her response was the worst I could imagine.

"Well, Bennet! That is unlikely in the extreme. My marriage remains unconsummated, and with Mr. Collins'…er… condition, it shall remain so, as his ability to perform his part of the process no longer… er… functions."

At that point, I was shocked beyond belief. Never in my worst and most pessimistic thoughts had I entertained that possibility. I was alarmed in the extreme at her assertion, and also disturbed by the casual way she discussed it, as if talking about the weather or her poultry. To deny her duty to her husband and her family for a year was beyond the pale. Had she no sense of familial duty at all?

It took me a moment to come to myself enough to ask, "How is that possible, after nearly a year of marriage?"

I nearly held my breath awaiting her reply, and when it came, it carried even a harder edge than what came before. She actually chuckled, apparently in grim amusement, without the slightest hint of the daughter who was not made for unhappiness. Her reply set me back on my heels and outright broke my heart.

"When you forced me into this marriage, did you notice I did not even speak the vows. Mr. Collins and Mrs. Bennet took it upon themselves to say the words for me, and the parson just let it stand. I was apparently with the two worst supposedly 'men of god' in Christendom. You sir and your wife and the law promised me to that hideous man, but I did not. I spoke no vows. Had you not restrained me to the house and isolated me from my sisters those few weeks before the wedding, I should have run away."

Once again the whingeing about an arranged marriage was getting on my nerves, and I felt it was time to move things forward as my time was in fact running short. I had not really heard the goings on she alluded to as I was sitting in the pew feeling like I would not survive the ceremony, let alone another day, but I would not give her the satisfaction of knowing that.

"What is done is done, but I am most curious to know how you avoided your marital duties for an entire year? I thought I taught you better."

Now I heard an iron-grated chuckle that sounded somewhat… boastful.

"No Bennet, neither you nor your wife taught me anything useful. What use is a classical education in a place like this? A Viking education would have been more useful."

She stared at me until I was forced to look away, and continued her tale.

"The first month I simply told the idiot that I had my courses. Stupid man did not even know how such things worked, and just bumbled along. The second month, I found that every time he came to me he could be dissuaded by ridicule. I feel no need to spare the feelings of a man who will take a wife by force; and make no mistake; he knew what he was about. He liked to gloat nearly constantly about having secured such a spirited woman, and the enjoyment he would receive from bringing her to heel. Those thoughts even replaced speaking about his patroness those first months. However, his er… ardor could not stand up to my words."

She paused momentarily, seemingly not intending to continue, so I prompted her, "The third month?"

With that she locked eyes with me and seemed to be taking my measure, or possibly working out the right words, but finally she continued.

"The third month, he came at me with a birch rod. He caught me unaware and without warning in the parlor and simply laid to without a word and without allowing me to defend myself. He beat me with all the frustrations of his failed and miserably unsuccessful life, going all the way back to his drunkard father and working his way up to my unambiguous refusal which you overruled and my merciless belittling. He beat my backside. He beat my legs. He beat me everywhere he could think to beat me that was not visible. He left scars on my back and my legs and my breasts which are still there. You should try a birch rod on a bare nipple Bennet. It might teach you something."

If she wished to shame and humble me, she had certainly done that. I felt pain radiating out along my arm that was near to killing me. The physician said that was one of the signs of the end coming; something to do with my heart. It would be a supreme irony if she killed me on the side of the road in Kent with nothing but her tongue. Not quite finished, she continued.

"I have scars, Bennet. Permanent scars. It took me ten days to get out of bed with help from a servant, and two weeks before I could walk from my chamber to the parlor. It took three weeks before I could use the necessary on my own, and at that point he gave me an ultimatum of one more week before he would take what was his to take.

She paused momentarily, and then continued.

"A week later, I lay in bed when he came to me, but I was not to be owned by him, or you or anybody. I decided I was my own person and I would die before I submitted. Both of you could well be Wickham's brothers. You all think about women the same way. I continued to dissuade him with the ridicule that was his due, but that was only a temporary solution, as his fists became his next tool of choice, and I lost teeth, and spent another three weeks in bed."

I felt the pain increasing and thought I may well be done for, but Elizabeth was not yet finished. She had quit looking at me, and seemed to be staring inside more than anything. The next part came out as a whisper.

"The next time he came at me with his birch rod in the parlor a month later, he again insisted that my education was incomplete, and made several disparaging remarks about how I was raised, since I did not even know the bare basics of wifely duty and obedience. I replied that his education was far from adequate as well."

Fearing to know the answer, I prompted her with, "And"

Still looking deep inside some memory, she answered without any inflection whatsoever, as if she were already dead.

"And I gave him the education he seems to have missed at his father's knee. The first lesson was the relative efficacy of fire irons versus birch rods. Birch rods burn very prettily with a light grayish bluish smoke. Fire irons do not! They do seem however to be effective in modifying behavior, and they can leave their own marks if you leave them in the fire long enough before use."

The very idea that either she was capable of such violence, or that she felt it was either required or justified filled me with horror, while my daughter just looked at the ground and finished her tale.

"I did not kill him, though it was a very near thing. I did not break any bones, and the brand I left on his back side was only big enough to remind him of his folly, but I did carry my point."

She paused again, then continued, "After that, I took to carrying a knife on my person at all times, even in bed, and indicated to him that the next time he laid a hand on me, I would at the very least finish any hopes he had for relations with any woman, and more likely end any hopes for relations with his next meal. Since that time, I never spoke another word to him until he took his fever. I am assured the fever had nothing to do with his educational experience, so perhaps it is just an act of some god's vengeance."

At this point I was gasping like a fish, feeling like I was likely to collapse, but I had to ask, "Six months without a single word."

She gave me that hard stony look again and replied, "Do not worry Bennet. There were entirely too many words in the parsonage, but none of them came from me."

I am certain had anybody chanced upon us at that point they would have found me white as a sheet and near to collapse, but I could not bring myself to repent my actions. By Elizabeth's own words it was obvious she caused her own problems by simply refusing to do her duty as a wife. She could have made herself available to him once a week or once a fortnight and ignored him the rest of the time, but she had to have her way. She was a very selfish and stubborn girl.

On reflection, I felt horrified by what had befallen her, but her tale of woe did not change the material fact that my entire family was at risk because she would not do her duty. We could apportion the blame all we wanted, but in the end, she must be brought to the point. Too much depended on it.

I gave her a moment to move out of her memories, and as gently as I could, tried to carry my point.

"I am sorry for your trials, Mrs. Collins. I truly am, but the fact remains that we need an heir. I will not see all of Meryton and the estate of the Bennet family for three hundred years destroyed."

She gave another grim chuckle, almost a caricature of her former happy laugh and asked, "You should have thought of that when Jane was born, or at the very least, when Lydia was born, but I see you prefer to make others pay for your indolence. Tell me Bennet, how do you propose I produce this mythical son without a functioning husband? I presume with five daughters you have some basic idea of the mechanics involved, although how you managed to perform the act with that horrid woman five times is beyond me?"

So, she was unhappy with her mother and filled with anger, bitterness and spite now. Nothing new there! I was unhappy with her mother, who could have easily solved this problem a year ago by pointing Collins to Mary, who would have accepted him without qualms, and most certainly would have done her duty rather than practically murdering her lawful husband. However, I was not prepared at that point to let Elizabeth destroy us while wallowing in her misery. Of course, since she had never actually consummated the marriage, and she had the silliest mother in England, maybe she did not even understand the process, so I asked, "I understand the process completely. Do you?"

She sighed in exasperation before replying.

"Yes, I do. I took it upon myself to learn… not that you or your heinous wife took the trouble to educate me, but your wife was never the only woman I knew, and I loathe ignorance. I swore when I left, I would not produce an heir, so I took pains to understand what was involved in detail. I see nothing in my new situation to change that. With Mr. Collins incapacitated, it seems a moot point anyway."

I wondered where she had gotten so dense and replied, "Not necessarily."

I watched her intensely to see if the obvious answer would occur to her on her own, but she was apparently unable or unwilling or perhaps just too naïve or honorable to come up with it on her own. If she hated me before she would doubly hate me now, but it had to be done.

"Mrs. Collins, your son need not be Mr. Collins natural son. All you need do is deliver any son before ten months after Mr. Collins death, and it will be legally his. This you can do."

I suspected the sheer unadulterated effrontery of the suggestion would shock her, but she seemed to be quite impossible to shock these days. She let out another grim chuckle, and made her reply.

"And what, pray tell, do you think will induce me to do this. Even should I choose to bear a child with some disconnected male, which should be easy enough since men seem to be mostly indistinguishable from goats; you of all people should understand a son is not guaranteed. The chances of a son are less than half."

As if the girl had the right to lecture me on producing sons! However, I had not come this far to quit, and replied, "You should have the year or two that Collins is likely to live plus ten months. That is most likely over two years, which should be enough time for two children. That makes the chances three in four, and you will make the effort."

She just laughed mirthlessly at what I supposed she thought of as my stupidity.

"You overestimate the reliability of the process. You always were a man who thought you were smarter than you actually are. There is about a one in five chance with any pregnancy I shall lose it before it even quickens. Another one in thirty I will lose it later before confinement. There is a one in thirty chance that I will die in childbirth or the babe will. If I do succeed, there is a one in two chance any live birth will be male. The chance of dying in childbirth is even higher if I have more than one child every two years, and there would be no chance at all of a second child without immediately attaching a wet nurse to the first. That all means my chance of delivering a male heir with two attempted pregnancies over two to three years is probably about even at best, and the chances of either myself or one of the babes dying in the process is not trifling."

Steeling my resolve, I replied, "Nevertheless, you will attempt it!"

She sounded even harder now, and I thought I might want to keep in mind that she had dissuaded her husband with fire irons and apparently branded him, so she may not be a woman to be trifled with.

She asked, "And again, why do you think I will help you when you have so spectacularly abused me? What do I care about Longbourn, and I personally think the hedgerows is exactly where your wife belongs."

Feeling desperate, I finally played my very last bargaining chip, though it broke my heart to do so.

"If you do not, I will simply start marrying your sisters off to whoever suits me. Do not think Mr. Collins is the only less than ideal husband in England? I will not have them sitting at Longbourn when and if Wickham comes to claim it."

That finally broke through her reserves, and she let out a strangled gasp, as I knew she must. I thought I would hate myself for that bit of deception for all of the days left to me, but I was not to be stopped at this point. Too much depended on Elizabeth being brought to the point.

I stood with baited breath to see what she would do. If she decided to send me packing, I would have very little recourse. I had to believe she thought I would choose bad husbands, because it was so desperately important for her to try, and I just hoped she would not manage to ascertain that I would never do such a thing. Oh, marry them off I would, but to the best farmers and merchants I could find; but I could not let her know that.

I saw her thinking furiously for a good ten minutes while I waited as patiently as I could, and she finally came to a decision.

"Very well, Bennet. I will offer you a bargain. In fact, I will generously offer you a choice."

Now was not the time for bargains and I steeled myself to reply with as much strength as I could, "You are not in a position to be making demands!"

"Nevertheless, you will bargain or get back in your carriage! You are fortunate I am offering you any choice at all."

Seeing little recourse if she became too stubborn, I finally nodded for her to present her choices.

"Very well, here is the first bargain I will offer…"

She took a deep breath and began, "Firstly, I will make every possible effort to deliver an heir, and I will keep trying until there is no possibility of success. In exchange, you will reduce your wife's allowance by three quarters and dedicate the bulk to my use for living expenses should my first child be born female; starting tomorrow. I will expect the first six months in advance. In addition, you will immediately set aside a £2,000 dowry for the same purpose, in cash. You will sell some of your precious books if need be. This must be legally binding, and under Uncle Gardiner's control. Should I have a second daughter, she will receive the same."

I wondered where she got the temerity to ask so much for simply doing her duty as a wife and daughter, and replied, "You ask a great deal!"

Apparently not impressed, she said, "Not really. I ask you for the proceeds gained by you sitting in your library drinking port and doing nothing for one year, while you agree to me going to great pain and significant risk to my life at least once and more likely twice, alone, likely succeeded by a life of poverty, raising one or two bastards who will be looked down on by society when their origin gets out, which it inevitably will. You ask me to do all this, simply to assuage your greed and laziness. I could just as easily wait for you to die, and then sell off every piece of Longbourn that's not nailed down to support myself and my sisters when Mr. Collins dies. You are not looking so robust at the moment. Will you even survive the trip back?"

She stared at me now, perhaps daring me to disagree, before continuing, "Be glad I offer such generous terms Bennet, but I am not finished yet."

She paused another moment, then said, "Secondly, you will send all of my sisters to me in any order I choose for three months each, and I will attempt to find husbands for them. You will send me their pin money for the next year in advance, and you will agree in advance, and in writing that you will approve any match I make. In fact, you will delegate the responsibility for signing any marriage settlements to Uncle Gardiner, and any prospective husbands are to be approved by him, and need not meet you at all."

This was all entirely too much, and I now felt the pain in my arm moving to my chest. This interview needed to be concluded soon. I thought to show some strength of position, and said, "You ask entirely too much! I will not be importuned in this way!"

She just smirked and said, "Very well! Goodbye Bennet!"

That nearly had me undone, but the look on her face convinced me she would not be worked upon. She was so angry I could see her face turning white and a vein pulsing on her forehead. Thinking to calm things down, I asked, "Wait! What is your second proposal? You said you would offer a choice."

There was a significant pause, while I held my breath in anticipation. When my favorite daughter finally did speak, it was with a resigned tone of sadness, but also the casual air of one making a simple statement of fact. She had become extremely hard edged within the last year. Her reply caught me completely off guard.

"I shall stop caring for Mr. Collins and he will be dead within the week. I only care for him now so I can collect his living, but nobody will question his early demise. You are welcome to hunt down Wickham and kill him, or do just as you please. I suggest you take my first offer and begone, for it is not entirely impossible that I may simply decide to cut your throat right here and now, and wait for the magistrate. I still carry my knife everywhere I go."

I gasped at the heartlessness of the statement, and oddly enough thought I heard someone else gasp as well but it was hard to tell. Elizabeth was apparently giving me the message that she was not a woman to be importuned, and considering I was not entirely certain she was not deadly serious, I sighed in defeat and accepted her terms.

"Very well, I agree. Which daughter do you want first?"

Having won her point, she became all business.

"Send Jane with all of the signed documents, the money for my first child and statements from Uncle Gardiner. Based on my current cycles, you have three weeks."

I answered in resignation, "All right. It shall be as you say."

With that, I turned around and creaked back into the carriage, not at all certain I would even survive the trip back to Longbourn. The die was cast, and I just hoped I could see it through. My daughters were to pay the price for my indolence of the last twenty‑odd years, but there was aught to do about it now except carry forward.

With fifty miles of road between myself and home, I simply had to get back and hope Elizabeth would do her duty, and perhaps in another fifty years, she might either forgive me or at least find some happiness with her next husband. A pretty young widow and mother to the heir to Longbourn would be a good catch, and if she managed to produce the heir I thought things might still work out.

As I settled into the carriage, she was still looking at me as she had from the beginning, either with great sadness or more likely hatred, contempt and disappointment. Surprisingly, she raised her voice just as I left, but she was talking to someone else. I had no idea why she did not wait a minute for me to be gone. Perhaps she wanted me to hear, or perhaps she just did not care anymore.

She said, "Mr. Darcy, I presume since you cannot refrain from eavesdropping, you will at least restrain yourself from gossip?"

Quickly glancing out the window, I could just see the young man standing near the corner of the parsonage, well‑hidden but in a place where he could hear the entire conversation and could have seen me. I assumed he had accidentally stumbled on the conversation and could not tear himself away; not that surprising when it was conducted in the lane. He looked as if he was watching every bit of truth and beauty and light in the world being crushed in front of his eyes, which may have been close to the truth.

He quickly answered, "You may depend on my discretion."

Elizabeth replied in an offhand way, "Thank you", and turned back to the parsonage; apparently done with the both of use.

I could see what appeared to be a look of pain on his face, the first sign of real emotion I had ever seen from the gentleman. Perhaps it was pain, or perhaps a year after his sojourn in Hertfordshire, he was just sad to reflect that a woman felt a need to thank him for simply agreeing to act in a slightly more gentlemanlike manner.

I hoped the idea kept him up at night. He was not a friend to the Bennets, and I could only hope he would stay away from Elizabeth, not that she would ever again afford me the honor of calling her that.

I began and eventually ended the interminable fifty miles of road with weeping.