The Five Graces of Longbourn

by Olivia Kane

  “My, that is a grand figure to spend on a chimneypiece,” Elizabeth said in amazement. “It must be positively baroque!” Mr. Collins suddenly directed the intensity of his attention to Elizabeth whom, of all those assembled, seemed the most impressed by his news.

  Now favorably inclined toward her as well, he leaned closer to Elizabeth. He was about to add to her delight with further descriptions of the glory of the Rosings interior when she said, “However, I find the size of the fire and the adequacy of the ventilation contribute even more significantly to my general comfort than the price of the chimneypiece.”

  Frowning, she continued.

  “In fact, I can’t think of anything more uncomfortable than a large drawing room on a frigid day. In my opinion, a smaller, more intimate sitting room, where there is less to heat, is preferable.”

  Deflated, Mr. Collins resolved to ignore Elizabeth and any of her future statements. He resumed staring at Jane.

  “Miss Bennet, Mrs. Bennet, I must impress on you the quality of Lady Catherine’s society and her generosity toward me. Indeed, I dine at Rosings two or three times a week and am often given her second-best carriage to take home when late. In fact, I traveled here today in that very coach. This is no ordinary parson’s lifestyle I am offering.”

  “Jane has already lunched and dined at Netherfield Park and was most favorably inclined by its table and its furnishings. But my other daughters, I am sure, would be very impressed by your Lady Catherine. Jane’s heart, I’m afraid, is already half-way in residence at Netherfield.”

  “But she must see Rosings before making any decision. The drawing room is over sixty feet long! Jane will absolutely love Rosings!”

  “She will not. She prefers Netherfield!” Mrs. Bennet snapped. Then, composing herself, she smiled and rang the bell for Hill.

  “Hill, Hill, where is our tea? Bring it now.”

  “It is right here m’lady. We were just on our way in,” Hill soothed her.

  The distraction was timely and the tension in Mr. Collins dipped slightly at the sight of sandwiches and cakes.

  What is Netherfield Park that these women should pass up a life in proximity to Rosings and all its benefits? Mr. Collins mused. The Bennet women were aiming very low to set their sights on Netherfield. He stared at Jane’s lovely face and imagined the pleasure Lady Catherine would derive from such an ornamental figure being added to the society at Rosings and his mind was set.

  Oh, Jane, my lovely Jane! Soon your sweet face will be the last thing I see at night and the first I see in the morning!

  He did not know this Mr. Bingley but Mrs. Bennet made it very clear that Jane was not engaged and so he vowed at that moment to pursue her relentlessly. Lady Catherine had warned him that courtship could be a tricky affair but that, over time, many an initial rejection softened into joyful acceptance.

  Therefore, while he hoped that Jane would wisely accept his first offer, he steeled himself for a refusal. He was prepared to woo her until he won her. Thus decided, he settled back comfortably, reached for a teacake and added two squares of sugar to his cup. He was determined to enjoy the remainder of the afternoon’s social call. There was, after all, no rush.

  Chapter 3

  After Mr. Collins departed, each girl turned up her nose and loudly rejected any notion of entering into a courtship with him. In a frustrating betrayal, even Mr. Bennet took their side. He even told Lizzy that he would never speak to her again if she were to accept an offer.

  “Now I know what it is like to be a captain facing mutiny,” Mrs. Bennet said sharply to her girls at breakfast the next morning. “Not one of you is thinking of me. Where will I go, what is to become of me when Mr. Bennet, bless his soul, departs this world for the next? Have none of you a heart?”

  Her daughters could do little but look momentarily sympathetic, for the cost of wedding Mr. Collins was too horrific a prospect to entertain, even to save their own mother from impoverishment.

  “Now Mamma, please do not be vexed. We will not abandon you if the time comes,” Jane assured her.

  “In that case, you must win Mr. Bingley,” Mrs. Bennet insisted, turning her teary eyes toward her kindest daughter. “You must not let him slip through your fingers like sand as he is the kind of gentleman who can do so much for this family.”

  Jane reached over and patted her mother’s forearm, whispering, “I will try, Mamma.”

  Temporarily appeased, Mrs. Bennet made a request.

  “I am in need of peace this morning as my nerves are precarious. I want you all to take a walk into town and fetch me some new writing papers. Lizzy, you know the kind I like.”

  “Yes, Mamma,” Elizabeth agreed.

  “I have asked your father to dispense your pocket money for next month early, too,” Mrs. Bennet added. “It is there on the sideboard. Lydia, you can purchase those new gloves you had your eye on.”

  “Thank you, Mamma!” Lydia squealed.

  Elizabeth was relieved to have a reason to be removed from her mother’s agitations. “I do hope my book is in at the mercantile. I ordered it a fortnight ago,” Elizabeth stated as she fastened her wool cape at her neck. Kitty and Lydia beamed in anticipation of running into officers, and Mary went along because she always did as she was told.

  “Make haste!” Mrs. Bennet exclaimed as she attended her daughters to the front door. “You might stop by your Aunt Philips while there and gather more intelligence about the regiment,” she urged, very much desiring their extended absence. “Mr. Phillips will have dined with some of the officers and we have not yet had the privilege of hearing the latest news.” Mr. Bennet had already departed to call on an old friend an hour’s distance from Longbourn and was not expected back until after dinner. Therefore, he was not present to curtail his wife’s overeager exhortations to make contact with the regiment.

  “Goodbye, Jane and Lizzie! Goodbye Kitty! Goodbye Mary and Lydia! Do not hurry back on my account!” she shouted as she waved them off.

  With a contented sigh, Mrs. Bennet shut the door behind them. A quick glance at the clock soothed her rising anxiety; she had dispatched her daughters and still had one hour to gather her thoughts before the arrival of Mr. Collins.

  Marrying one of her daughters to Mr. Collins was imperative and yet, it was evident that the decision could not be left for him to make on his own. Equally alarming was the reaction of her daughters—a unanimous rejection of him. Even Mary said she could not be yoked to a man whose company repelled her. Mrs. Bennet was particularly peeved with Elizabeth’s declaration that she would go into service before becoming his tenant for life.

  If only Mr. Collins were more handsome, she fretted. What a different outcome there might be if he bore the good looks of Officer Wickham! As hard as she tried, she could find nothing to recommend him where his appearance was concerned. His clothes were well kept and his boots shone brightly, but that was not incentive enough for her girls.

  She made a plan to study his appearance to determine if there were any salvageable features she could persuade him to highlight.

  But which unlucky girl should she sacrifice to Mr. Collins?

  Of all her daughters, she thought Elizabeth’s future the most precarious. Her looks were recently the subject of derision by that stiff newcomer, Mr. Darcy. He had declared Elizabeth not handsome enough to dance with at the last assembly. Unfortunately, news of this slight had made its way around Meryton very quickly. In fact, Elizabeth spread the story herself—a critical error—so Mrs. Bennet thought. She was certain that the two imperious Bingley sisters laughed daily at Lizzie and this would not help Jane’s cause with Bingley at all.

  A young woman without a significant dowry must hope at least to be considered attractive by society, Mrs. Bennet firmly believed. In fact, it was her experience that to be thought attractive was even more necessary than possessing the trait. Society was made up of very weak-minded individuals who would think what they were told to think.

  The fact that Mr. C
ollins was not at all handsome or rich simplified the situation. Naturally, he could not expect the passionate love of a pretty girl. Lizzy, now publicly declared plain, could be easily pushed off on him, thus keeping Longbourn in the family for the foreseeable future.

  Such was the state of her mind when she saw Rosings’ second-best carriage rambling down the drive on schedule. Mrs. Bennet noted his punctuality with admiration. Civilities were exchanged on his arrival and they went in directly to dine.

  “Mr. Collins,” she said to him once both were settled at the table and the meal underway. “I am here to help. To which of my daughters will you be making an offer?”

  Mr. Collins finished chewing and wiped his lips with his napkin before blurting out, “Miss Jane Bennet is my choice.”

  Mrs. Bennet’s heart sank to hear Jane’s name, but she was prepared to remain in control of her emotions, so she clasped her hands together and exclaimed, “Wonderful!”

  “It is Jane or no one else,” he said dreamily. “Lady Catherine de Bourgh will be so impressed to see Jane installed as mistress of Hunsford parsonage. I dare say she will not have expected me to land such a diamond.”

  “Jane is a diamond, she is commonly referred to as so. Alas, I must remind you that you are entering a competition for her heart. Wealthy competition, in the form of Mr. Charles Bingley, who has four thousand a year. I am afraid you have a rather uphill battle ahead of you.”

  “Nonsense,” Mr. Collins replied. “With all due respect, ma’am, she is not currently engaged, is she?”

  “Not a spoken engagement, more of what I like to call an unspoken one.”

  “Were you and Mr. Bennet to tell her to accept my offer then the matter would be settled. This is a Christian home, where obedience has been instilled, I assume?”

  “What are you insinuating, Mr. Collins? Of course this is a Christian home. What has that to do with marriage?” she asked indignantly.

  “Only that your wishes should be accommodated. If you wish Jane to become my wife then we are three-quarters of the way to our goal.”

  “Of course we direct our children in the way of the Lord, but our girls are not goats. Children have their own wants and desires and must sometimes be led to the trough slowly.”

  “Perhaps I am not making myself clear. Not only do I offer Jane the love of my heart, a comfortable home, and the preservation of Longbourn, but I offer her access to the society of Rosings Park and the surrounding neighborhood of Kent—people of quality.”

  “A generous combination of advantages, indeed,” Mrs. Bennet placated him.

  “I am prepared to wait,” he informed her. “While you lead her to the trough, so to say.”

  “Yes, a man with your sort of determination can be quite attractive,” Mrs. Bennet lied. “But we must have an alternative plan. Elizabeth is thought to be very pretty in her own way, and she is very clever. Lady Catherine will appreciate cleverness as well as beauty, would she not?”

  “Yes, as she is the height of intelligence herself.”

  “So do not give up your pursuit of Jane; however, in exchange, I only ask you to consider my Elizabeth as a suitable alternative should it be necessary.”

  “I will consider Elizabeth only in the rare possibility that you fail to persuade Jane. But, although I am a humble man of God, willing to bear rejection on this earthly plane, my heart will not stand a second refusal from the Bennet family,” he warned. “A refusal from both Miss Jane and Miss Elizabeth will require me to direct my wifely pursuits somewhere other than Longbourn.”

  “Nonsense, Mr. Collins. I have five perfectly amiable daughters. Your wifely pursuits are in good hands. May I be so bold as to suggest it is your heavenly duty to be patient with my girls until one of them finds their way to you?”

  “Now that you put it that way,” he said.

  “You are a preacher and your emphasis has rightly been on the good book and not on young ladies?”

  Mr. Collins turned as red as a ruby.

  Pretending not to notice his discomfort, Mrs. Bennet ventured to say, “Courting a young lady, particularly high-spirited young ladies such as my girls, requires patience.”

  “Lady Catherine gave similar advice.”

  Mrs. Bennet nodded her head knowingly. “I promise you, Mr. Collins, that you will wed a Bennet. Now, have some more potatoes, please.”

  Satisfied that they understood each other, they ate heartily.

  As he sat there eating, Mrs. Bennet studied the bones of his face.

  “Mr. Collins,” she began.

  “Yes, m’lady? He looked up from his plate, his fork halfway to his open mouth

  “What would you say to the idea of growing a beard?”

  Chapter 4

  The Bennet girls entered the Meryton Mercantile and scattered; Kitty and Lydia to the ribbons, Jane to the sweets, and Mary to the sheet music. Elizabeth stopped at the counter where its proprietor, Mr. Buxton, warmly greeted one of his favorite customers. Upon securing her mother’s writing paper, she inquired, “Do you have the updated edition of Grey’s Guide to Hertfordshire Walking Paths that I ordered?”

  Mr. Buxton nodded yes and bent down to procure her book from beneath the counter. He stood up frowning, looking back and forth across the counter to no avail.

  “One minute, please,” he said, holding his finger up and disappearing into the back room. Elizabeth nodded and stood patiently waiting until she was distracted by the sound of the mercantile door opening. She turned to see Caroline Bingley and her sister, Mrs. Hurst, flounce in.

  The two ladies exclaimed in surprise at encountering the sisters. But after the initial greeting, they deigned only to show solicitude toward and exchange further small talk with Jane. A brief exchange of smiles transpired with Elizabeth but no further inquiries were made to her health.

  Elizabeth found the Bingley sisters’ snobbery intolerable and turned away. There was no desire for a true friendship emanating from either of the women, merely an overwhelming aura of superiority. Elizabeth suspected the Bingley sisters only conversed with the Bennets so they could laugh about them later.

  She expected her sisters’ every move in the mercantile to be recounted in the drawing room at Netherfield that evening, with an emphasis on making them look and sound ridiculous. She greatly disliked the pair.

  After a brief moment, Mr. Buxton re-appeared at the counter, looking perplexed.

  “I am so sorry, Miss Bennet. Apparently, my son sold your book yesterday to one Mr. Darcy, a gentleman with whom I am not familiar. I believe he is a visitor to Meryton. My son was not aware that the book was meant for you. It is my fault. I did not have your name written on the wrapper as I did not expect any other party to express interest in it. It was an honest mistake, and I will order you another copy.”

  At the mention of Mr. Darcy’s name, both Bingley sisters turned to listen.

  Elizabeth, although disappointed, understood.

  “I am familiar with this Mr. Darcy. He is a visitor at Netherfield Park.” Turning her head and motioning toward the Bingley sisters she said, “Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst here are staying at Netherfield Park with him as well.” She said as much so that the merchant would be aware that listening ears were about. “Thank you very much. Yes, please order me another copy. How soon will it be here, can you predict?”

  “Less than a fortnight, I would imagine. May I offer you another selection instead? Mrs. Radcliffe’s latest at a reduced cost? It’s very popular.”

  “Yes, I’ve heard of it. I will take it,” Elizabeth said, handing over her coins. “But no reduction is necessary, I insist.”

  Elizabeth took the substitute book and turned away.

  Her guide sold to Mr. Darcy? How annoying!

  While Mr. Darcy’s presence in Meryton was a source of intrigue and gossip to her family and neighbors, it seemed to Elizabeth that he had arrived in town solely to vex her. She shook her head. Insulting her appearance at the assembly was one thing—that she could easil
y laugh off.

  But it felt an even greater offense for him to appropriate her Grey’s, even if it was unintended. The guide was an invaluable resource to avid walkers. Mr. Grey’s series of guides offered detailed descriptions of new and established walking routes by county. His recommendations for out-of-the-way trails that showcased the picturesque greatly increased the enjoyment of her walking habit, which was far and beyond anything else her preferred diversion. Her passion for the guide was unknown to her until she was deprived of it.

  Caroline Bingley sauntered over to her with an expression of high amusement.

  “My sympathies. I could not help but overhear. Mr. Darcy is a great collector of books; the library at Pemberley is well known for being the work of generations. The extent of its selection quite takes one’s breath away. Although, sadly, it is not open to the public, so you may never chance to see it. I have been in it myself and can attest to its greatness. I will tell Mr. Darcy that he purloined your Grey’s by mistake, as he can have little need in his future for a walking guide to Hertfordshire,” Caroline said. She finished off her statements with a low chuckle. Mrs. Hurst, who had snuck up behind Caroline to listen, mimicked her laughter.

  “Please, do not do such a thing on my account. It was an honest mistake, and I have already forgotten it,” Elizabeth insisted.

  Suddenly, Mary exclaimed in a raised voice, “Look, Kitty, Lydia! There is Mr. Collins walking across the street!” Anxious for another look at their odious suitor, all five Bennet sisters rushed to assemble at the window and angled for the best view.

  “Who is Mr. Collins?” Mrs. Hurst asked, joining them at the window, wanting in on the intrigue. She craned her neck and looked with enthusiasm up and down the street to glimpse the object of their attention.

  “That funny looking man right there,” Mary pointed.

  “Back away, don’t let him see us,” Jane whispered.