Uncommonly Intelligent Chapter 31: A Problem Like Collins, a pride and prejudice fanfic

Author's Note:

I am coming out of my first full-fledged case of writer's block. For the last several weeks, I had been sure I would be able to post a new chapter that weekend, only to be unable to write for more than five minutes at a time before getting distracted by something else. Part of the problem was my RL schedule, but not all of it.

I think most of the problem is I don't like the Collins character as portrayed in canon, so it's very hard for me to write about him. Even when reading stories I otherwise like, I often skip over the Collins dialog (unless it is a variation where he is a sensible man), because once you understand that he's an idiot, there's not much more you need to know. I wish I could remember the title and/or author, but a few years ago I read a story where instead of having Collins drone on, the author just wrote something along the lines of, "Collins said, 'Lady Catherine, blah blah, Rosings, blah blah." I loved it.

Anyway, I have been receiving so many PMs wondering whether I am going to continue the story that I was determined to post a chapter this weekend (here in the US, it's a three-day weekend), but despite my best efforts, much of the chapter is still unfinished. But I have realized that this is another case of me trying to cram too much into one chapter, and it's over 10,000 words, so I'm going to just post the first quarter of it now, and with any luck, post the next two or three pieces as I finish them over the next couple of weeks.

If I can do that, things will be great again, because my classes will be finished, and Lizzy will meet Wickham, and it will be a pleasure to write, because that scene was the idea I had nearly three years ago that made me think maybe I should try writing a story about it. In my innocence, I thought it might take me a couple of weeks to write the four or five chapters needed to lay the groundwork for it. 30 chapters and over two years later, I will never understand how authors like sysa22 and LPK9 can write and publish an entire novel in a month or two. I wonder if adding a number to the end of my name might help.

Notifications: Unless things have changed very recently, there is a problem with the email notification on this site. From my PMs, I gather that people using the app are notified when a story they are following posts a new chapter, but not us old-school desktop users. I get a prompt to renew my email preferences frequently, sometimes several per day, and I dutifully check the box, but it does no good; I haven't gotten an email notification for months. And more recently, I can't even get into the website with my normal browser, because the "Verify You Are Human" captcha rejects me. I even tried covering my laptop's camera lens with tape, but it still thinks I am non-human.

I apologize to those who have waited patiently for new chapters, and then waited even longer than necessary because they were not informed. I have been assured that the administrators are working on it.

Chapter 31 - How Do You Solve A Problem Like Collins?

Longbourn, Hertfordshire, October 23, 1811

Lizzy woke to the sound of rain beating against her window. Grey light was filtering into the room through the gap between the curtains, but the clouds were too thick for there to be any shadows by which she could determine the time - on a sunny day, the shadow of the windowsill on the floorboards served as a sundial for her. Still, she sensed that it was not much after sunrise, for she was not used to having a bedmate, and so had not slept as soundly as she usually did.

As Mary shifted in the bed beside her, the jostling drove the last remnants of sleep away, and memories of the previous day came flooding back. Lizzy groaned in dismay at the realization that the heavy rain would probably mean that they would all be trapped in the house with Collins today, and perhaps that their friends from Netherfield would be prevented from coming for dinner this evening. She sincerely hoped not. She had great hopes for Mr. Bingley and Jane, she thought Miss Darcy was very sweet, she enjoyed the Colonel's company, and she was intrigued by Mr. Darcy.

She could not make him out. He had been pleasant company at Netherfield, but in the past week, he had seemed more aloof. She suspected that he was going out of his way to not raise false hopes in her, which she sometimes considered kindness, other times conceit, and occasionally even insult, as though he thought her too dim to realize that he was in a higher stratum of society than she. How could he believe her to be unaware of that? The rumors of his wealth and connections had been swirling through the assembly hall even before he arrived. And if he were unaware of those rumors, he certainly knew that Caroline Bingley had seldom gone more than five minutes without dropping some hint about Lizzy's unsuitability for a man like Darcy, even in her presence. She could only imagine what she said when Lizzy was not around, and she was glad that Caroline and Louisa's disdain for the Bennets had kept them from accompanying Darcy, Georgiana, and the colonel on some of their visits to Longbourn.

She should do very well without ever meeting Bingley's sisters again, but that would hardly be likely if things worked out between Jane and Mr. Bingley, so all she could do was try to make the best of it, and endeavor not to let them provoke her into losing her temper. Again.

Since she would not be going outdoors with it raining so heavily, and since she would hopefully be changing gowns for a dinner party later that day, she quickly donned one of her most ill-fitting dresses, the better to discourage Mr. Collins. Her slippers made no noise as she descended the stairs, and a glance at the large clock in the parlor showed that it was indeed shortly after sunrise - not yet seven o'clock, too early for breakfast. She was headed toward the kitchen to filch a roll when she heard a strange noise from the formal dining room.

She redirected her steps and was astonished to see Mr. Collins on his hands and knees in front of the breakfront cabinet at the end of the dining room, his position treating her to the same view of his generous hindquarters that had so impressed her younger sisters when he exited the stage the day before. The lower cupboard was open, and he was evidently examining her grandmother Bennet's Wedgwood creamware. She wondered whether he had already counted the silver.

"Good morning, Mr. Collins," she said sweetly.

Collins straightened so rapidly that he banged his head on the top of the lower cupboard opening, and Lizzy was barely quick enough to catch a vase that teetered and was about to fall from the shelf above.

She scarcely listened as he stammered and stuttered to explain himself, for she was diverted by observing how deeply he blushed. She recalled his face turning red the previous evening, when he had considered himself insulted by Lydia. Both she and Jane also blushed very easily, and she wondered whether it might be a trait in her father's bloodline.

For the last eight years or so, after the lessons that Lady Rutherford had arranged with Mr. Canfield to detect people's thoughts from physical cues, Lizzy had been trying to learn to control those cues in herself. If she could learn to make her pupils constrict or dilate, or her heart to slow down or speed up, she might be able to fool other people who noticed physical cues. She had met with mixed success - she could speed or slow her heart by ten or so beats per minute, but that was not enough to be very useful, nor did she have a blood vessel close enough to the skin to make her pulse visible. She could make her pupils dilate a bit, but only by staring vacantly, which was hardly the effect she wanted. The only really useful result was that she had learned to blush on command, though she had much less success in suppressing a blush brought on by external sources of embarrassment.

"Er… Cousin Elizabeth?"

Speaking of vacant stares - Lizzy realized that Collins must have asked her a question and received no response, so she quickly reviewed the last thirty seconds in her head. Even though she had not been listening to him, she had heard him, and what she heard, she could recall.

"Yes, Mr. Collins, I usually rise around this time. Normally, I would take a walk, but the weather is not cooperating today. I suppose I shall read."

"Ah! How extraordinary! I always read from the gospels each morning, as well. Shall we read the Bible together?" He grinned as if he was offering her a chance at unimaginable bliss.

Lizzy had not said anything about the Bible, but it occurred to her that if she could make Mr. Collins uncomfortable reading the Bible with her, it might be a way to redirect his attentions toward Mary. However, she had no intention of being alone with him for any reason, and was about to excuse herself when she heard her father descending the stairs.

"Good morning, papa!" she called to ensure that he knew she was there.

Mr. Bennet entered the dining room smiling fondly, then frowned as he took in the sight of Collins and the open cupboard. He did his best to make his expression blank as he said, "Good morning, Mr. Collins," then turned to Lizzy and said, "Lizzy, I have misplaced an item in my study. Could you please help me look for it?"

"Of course, papa," she answered as she strode past him and toward the study.

Mr. Collins looked as if he might follow, but Mr. Bennet said, "I will see you at breakfast, Mr. Collins. Please close the cupboard when you are through," and turned away to follow Lizzy without giving Collins a chance to answer.

When the study door was closed, Mr. Bennet said, "Well, Lizzy, it seems as though Mr. Collins will be an attentive master for Longbourn."

"Indeed, papa. I found him examining the creamware only a minute or two before you arrived. I fear I may have startled him, for he jumped like a frightened cat when I greeted him."

"Ah, 'The guilty flee when no man pursueth'," Mr. Bennet said with a chuckle.

"I believe it is 'the wicked', but we must hope that your paraphrase is more accurate. It is only natural that Mr. Collins should be eager to inherit, but I pray he is not wicked." She sighed. "Did he say how long he would be here?"

Her father thought for a moment, then opened a drawer and retrieved Mr. Collins' second letter. "I forgot that I did not bother showing this to you, for it was not amusing," he said as he handed it to her.

Lizzy scanned the page in an instant, then said, "He does not say, but as his patroness has need of him during the period he had originally planned to visit, I think it cannot be more than a fortnight." She huffed and pointed at the window. "Why could he not have come when the weather was better? It will be torture to be confined inside the house with him!"

"Am I correct in thinking that Mr. Collins has decided upon you as his future bride?"

Lizzy gave him a wry smile. "It seems so, and I am glad for it, for I believe I was his third choice when he first met us. But mama made it clear to him that Jane is all but betrothed, and he seemed quite shocked to learn that Lydia only recently turned 16, nor has she made it a secret that she does not respect him. I am happy that his affections are so easily transferred, for this way any resentment he might feel at being rejected will fall upon me, and I can easily bear it."

"So there is no chance of your acceptance?"

"Sadly, no," she said, though she did not look sad at all. "But I should not wish to be too brusque in my refusal, for I do want our family to remain on good terms with him."

Mr. Bennet's smile disappeared. "Lizzy, I meant what I said. I do not wish any of you inside this house when Collins becomes master."

"I understand, papa. My aim is merely for him to grant us a reasonable amount of time to move into new accommodations before he arrives."

"Yes, I see the wisdom in that. What, then, is your plan to discourage him without giving offense?"

"I believe I have found a safe path to his disfavor," Lizzy said. "He seems to enjoy lecturing young ladies on religious topics, with the expectation that they will gratefully drink in his wisdom, and he becomes petulant when he is challenged. I will therefore challenge him on every point. I shall attempt to frustrate him with his certainty that I am wrong, combined with his inability to find anything in the scriptures that proves I am wrong. If all goes well, he will think it is his idea that we would not suit."

"Hmmm," said her father, and tilted back in his chair with his eyes closed, the position he often adopted when he was seriously thinking about a subject.

Lizzy was tempted to add that Mary might be interested, but decided to wait and see whether anything came of Mary's tentative willingness to consider Collins as a husband. There was no need to expose Mary to her father's teasing before she and Collins had an understanding, for Mary still had a fragile ego.

Lizzy had gone out of her way to be a friend to her younger sister for the last several years, once she realized that Mary had no one else she was close to, but the indifference her family had shown to Mary during her formative years had done its damage. Lizzy and Jane had been inseparable since Lizzy's birth, and Kitty and Lydia were almost as close, but Mary had been the odd one out among the siblings. Similarly, Mr. Bennet had devoted most of his time to Lizzy, while Mrs. Bennet doted on Jane and Lydia. Neither had ever paid much attention to Mary until a few years ago, when her months with Maestro Mondello had added a pleasing expression to her technical proficiency at the pianoforte. Now that Mary was out, she was still very sensitive about how she compared to her sisters in beauty, and consequently in her marital prospects. Lizzy prayed that Mary was being honest when she said that she was not romantically inclined, rather than it being a face-saving rationalization of why she was willing to settle for an unattractive man.

Lizzy also realized that whether or not anything came of Mary and Collins, it was past time to address Mary's other interest, that of managing Longbourn. Only a month ago, she had been intending to devote several "Academy" sessions to teaching her younger sisters to manage household accounts, to relieve the tedium of the empty days of winter. But so much had changed since then! With Netherfield reopened and hosting amiable people (with some exceptions) who visited several times a week, and the militia now setting up camp nearby, the coming months would be anything but boring. Nevertheless, she would have to give even more instruction than she had thought, at least to Mary, if her sister truly wanted to manage an estate, rather than just a household. And she would need to revert to a more conventional system of bookkeeping, one that did not depend upon Lizzy's extraordinary abilities to calculate and memorize pages of figures almost instantly.

Mr. Bennet had been engaged with his own ruminations while Lizzy was thinking. He looked up and said, "Proceed with care, Lizzy. Not all rectors are as liberal in mind as our own excellent Mr. McKenzie, and the fact that Mr. Collins is an idiot, and yet still has a living at a very young age, might indicate that he has connections with the church hierarchy that are unknown to us. He might be able to make trouble for you if he suspects you of heresy. Remember that a fanatic is a man who does what he is sure the Lord would do if only He knew the facts of the case.* Do not mention the likes of Hume or Paine."

Lizzy rose and kissed him on the forehead before heading for the door. "I shall be all innocence and quote only from the Bible, simply laying out the facts in a different pattern than he has likely considered."

"Just be careful," her father repeated.

"Yes, papa," she said over her shoulder.

"And nothing from the New Testament!"

"Yes, papa," she said more sharply, but immediately turned and gave him a smile to let him know she was joking before she closed the door behind her.

She had not been joking, but she did not want him to know that. Lizzy was becoming increasingly irritated when her father told her what to do, and she knew that was wrong. Her father thought he was doing his best to look out for her, and he did not know her most closely guarded secret.

*People in England were imprisoned for blasphemy as late as 1840, so Mr. Bennet's concern is legitimate. I stole his quip about fanatics from Finley Peter Dunne, an American journalist of the early 20th century.

Author's Note: I won't leave you hanging for long. I have a heavy workload for the next three days, but I should be able to post the next part of this chapter by Sunday. Thank you for your patience, and thanks to everyone who follows, favs, or reviews, especially with constructive criticism.