My Cousin Caroline: The acclaimed Pride and Prejudice sequel series The Pemberley Chronicles Book 6

by Rebecca Ann Collins

  Following the birth of their son, William, Elizabeth invited her father, Mr Bennet, to visit Pemberley again. Wary of the cold Derbyshire Spring, he waited until the weather was warmer before arriving, taking the opportunity provided by his wife's departure with her sister Mrs Phillips for Ramsgate. Mr Bennet missed his elder daughters terribly and always enjoyed visiting them.

  While he was there, they had an unexpected visitation from Mr Collins, bearing a message from Lady Catherine de Bourgh. He came unaccompanied by his wife, who had been brought to bed recently with their third daughter Amelia-Jane. Elizabeth was disappointed, fearing Mr Collins's presence may spoil their pleasure of her father's company. But Mr Bennet was not. Determined that if he must endure the company of Mr Collins, he would enjoy it, he used this rare opportunity to engage Mr Collins in various conversations, asking a number of seemingly innocuous questions, which Mr Collins answered with such a degree of seriousness and pomposity that the rest of the company struggled not to laugh outright.

  They were entertained daily by these curious dialogues.

  When Mr Collins claimed at breakfast that he had seen his patron-Lady Catherine de Bourgh only moments before leaving for Derby, Mr Bennet remarked, “Ah how very auspicious for you, Mr Collins,” and then asked, in a quiet voice, “I trust you left Rosings in fine condition and Her Ladyship in good health? And Miss de Bourgh and Mrs Jenkinson?” and as Mr Collins, his mouth full, nodded violently, he went on, “And of course those superb horses that draw her Ladyship's barouche? All well?” to which the garrulous Mr Collins, pleased to be asked for such important information, swallowed hurriedly and replied with enthusiasm, “Oh yes indeed, Mr Bennet, how very good of you to ask; the Rosings estate, which is of course the largest in that part of England, is in excellent condition as is Her Ladyship. She boasts that she hardly ever needs to see a doctor,” adding with a sigh, “But dear Miss de Bourgh, now she has a very delicate constitution and Doctor Burroughs visits her regularly, but this being Summer she is in reasonable health and so is Mrs Jenkinson, who is a good sturdy woman—strong as an ox, Her Ladyship says. They are all in fine fettle.”

  “Excellent, excellent!” responded Mr Bennet. “In fine fettle, eh? Hear that, Lizzie? The horses too, Mr Collins?”

  “Oh indeed, sir, I saw them only an hour before I left Hunsford, conveying Her Ladyship into town. They were in very fine fettle indeed.”

  To which Mr Bennet, eyes sparkling, said, “Excellent, excellent,” again and Lizzie, no longer able to restrain her laughter, excused herself, blew her nose violently, and ran from the room, only to find her husband skulking in the corridor. He too had escaped, unable to contain his mirth.

  “Lizzie, I am sorry, but your father is right, the man's an idiot and doesn't even know he is being gulled.”

  “Oh Darcy, it is most unkind of Papa and you! How can you be so wicked? Papa encourages him so he can make a fool of himself and you encourage Papa! Shame on you. I am glad poor Charlotte is not here.”

  Darcy did not appear very contrite.

  “Lizzie, your father would never have done anything that would have embarrassed Mrs Collins, of that I am quite certain,” he said. “As you can see, he is simply engaging in some harmless fun. Collins takes himself so seriously, he cannot see it.”

  Later that day, there was more when the Bingleys arrived from Ashford Park to join them for dinner. Mr Collins, seemingly encouraged by Mr Bennet's show of interest in the subject, launched into a long and detailed monologue on the historic chapel at Rosings, which was now Lady Catherine's private chapel.

  “It is soon to be refurbished. Her Ladyship is particular about these matters and wishes the work to be done right; she has sought my advice on the matter,” he declared portentously.

  “Which no doubt you are very happy to provide?” asked Mr Bennet.

  “Of course,” said Mr Collins, appearing to preen himself and grow a full inch in stature as he contemplated the prospect, “it would be a great honour to do so.”

  “And what is the nature of the refurbishment required to be done in the chapel?” asked Mr Darcy, who knew Rosings well.

  “There is much to be done, sir, some problems in the roof, I believe,” replied Mr Collins, and Mr Bennet muttered softly to himself, “Bats perhaps?”

  “Bats?” exclaimed Bingley very loudly, not comprehending this at all.

  “In the belfry,” quoth Mr Bennet and once again, poor Elizabeth was seized by a fit of coughing and had to leave the room, “It must be the lid on that pepper pot—I shall tell Mrs Reynolds, we should have it replaced,” she cried as she fled.

  But Mr Collins was undeterred. Jane and her husband were quite bemused at the way he blundered on, barely stopping to put food in his mouth, when asked by Mr Bennet, “Apart from the roof, what other work needs doing, upon which you are to advise Her Ladyship?”

  “Ah,” replied he with great gravity, “there is a brown stain on the marble floor beside the altar, which may have been caused by blood!” at which Darcy almost choked, as he went on, “We must devise some means of eradicating it. And I do believe one of the stained glass windows, of which there are seven, may need replacing. Her Ladyship is unhappy with its design.”

  “And you are to advise on all these matters, Mr Collins?” Jane asked quite innocently, to which he replied, with a gratified smile, “Ah yes, Mrs Bingley. I shall have that honour.”

  “Of course you have studied these subjects, Mr Collins?” said Mr Bennet, pursuing his hapless quarry, “as a result of which, you are no doubt quite an authority now on the subject of bloodstains on marble and the style of stained glass windows?”

  To the complete astonishment of everyone at the table, including Lizzie, who had since returned to her place beside her father, Mr Collins simply swallowed the last scrap of pudding, smiled at them, and said with the breathless arrogance of the truly ignorant, “No indeed, not at all, but Lady Catherine has asked me for advice, so I shall give it, having considered all the possibilities, in due course.”

  Mr Bennet was heard to say quietly, as if in awe of such self-importance, “Amazing, absolutely amazing,” and from the others there was a stunned silence, which was broken only when the port was placed upon the table and the ladies, relieved, withdrew to the drawing room.

  Jane was immediately concerned. “Oh Lizzie, Papa is being very mischievous in baiting poor Mr Collins. Do you not think so?”

  Elizabeth smiled. “I did think so, at first, Jane, but the man is such an arrogant fool, I doubt he feels it at all. It certainly has not stopped him pretending that he will single-handedly supervise the restoration of Her Ladyship's private chapel! Besides, as Darcy says, Papa is having such harmless fun, it would be unfair to censure him.”

  “Oh Lizzie, you are become as cruel as Papa,” said Jane, giggling helplessly. The sisters went upstairs together, for Jane wanted another look at little William, the brand-new heir to Pemberley, and Elizabeth was happy to show him off to her sister while leaving Mr Collins to the mercy of the gentlemen.

  When the Gardiners and Colonel Fitzwilliam came to dinner some days later, Mr Collins had, mercifully, departed for Kent, there to embark upon his contemplation of marble floors and stained glass windows in Lady Catherine's chapel. But Elizabeth and Mr Bennet kept their visitors entertained with countless tales of his short stay at Pemberley.

  “He was ever so grateful for being received with such generous hospitality, he would not stop thanking us, especially Mr Darcy, on every possible occasion,” said Elizabeth, and her father pointed out that Mr Darcy must clearly be back in favour with Mr Collins's patron, Lady Catherine de Bourgh.

  “He was so obsequious, Mr Darcy, it was quite clear he was angling for a further invitation, perhaps to do the honours at your cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam's wedding to Miss Caroline,” Mr Bennet suggested, to which Caroline cried out in protest, “Oh no, we cannot have Mr Collins, he has such a solemn countenance, more suited to a funeral, I think, that I shall not keep
a straight face during the ceremony and Emily will surely giggle.”

  Colonel Fitzwilliam intervened to say he had no intention of being married by Mr Collins, who was sure to preach a tedious sermon and send everyone to sleep.

  “In any event, we shall be married in the parish church at Lambton, among the people whom I hope to represent in Parliament. Mr Collins is unlikely to be disappointed at not being asked to officiate there. It is a simple village church. Now, if it were Pemberley, that would be quite another matter,” he said.

  There was general agreement that Mr Collins's social ambitions would not be furthered on such an occasion, therefore his unhappiness would be short-lived.

  “Besides,” added Colonel Fitzwilliam, “we shall probably see quite enough of him next Christmas. We are invited, together with my brother James and his family, to Rosings.”

  “To Rosings?” Elizabeth could hardly believe her ears and even Mr Darcy looked surprised.

  Clearly Lady Catherine had not let her contempt for Mr Gardiner's commercial occupation affect her attitude to her nephew's engagement to Caroline.

  “Yes indeed. I received a letter from her Ladyship—she says she would have liked to see us before the wedding, but it would not be convenient—so next Christmas it must be.”

  “And are you looking forward to it, Caroline?” asked Elizabeth.

  Colonel Fitzwilliam looked at Caroline, who smiled sweetly and said, “Colonel Fitzwilliam says he is quite sure Lady Catherine will have no reason not to approve of me; he has written her a long letter…”

  “Filled with so much praise of Caroline that Lady Catherine, if she had any objections, has been soundly trumped,” Mr Bennet concluded and added, “And so she should be, for there is no young lady more deserving of universal praise and approval than my dear niece, I am sure.”

  Caroline blushed as everyone agreed that Mr Bennet was absolutely right. Elizabeth agreed too; but she could not help feeling some degree of sorrow for her friend Charlotte, as she contrasted her situation—being married as she was to Mr Collins, quite the silliest man she had encountered in all her life—with that of Caroline, Jane, and herself.

  Her young cousin had had the great good fortune to have found in Colonel Fitzwilliam a near perfect partner. Not only were they devoted to one another, but already, they seemed so well attuned to each other's ideas and hopes that they anticipated one another's thoughts and words and appeared in complete harmony. Yet, there was not a hint of domination on his part or manipulation on hers.

  Jane was especially pleased with the remarkable degree of good sense and decorum that characterised their conduct.

  “It cannot be easy for either of them, Lizzie, having to wait almost a year before they may marry, while loving one another so deeply; yet, at no time do they behave in an unseemly or outrageous manner as to embarrass those in whose company they are.”

  Elizabeth, who recalled the appalling behaviour of her sister Lydia, even before she was married to Wickham and often afterwards, had to agree.

  Mrs Gardiner, speaking to Elizabeth, had expressed her own satisfaction.

  “The colonel is the perfect gentleman Lizzie,” she said. “I confess I had some reservations because of the great difference in their ages, but since they have been engaged, I have had not a moment's anxiety. I trust him completely and so does Mr Gardiner.”

  Clearly the Gardiners had taken Fitzwilliam to their hearts.

  Later, after their guests had departed, Elizabeth and Darcy discussed Lady Catherine's invitation to Fitzwilliam and Caroline, and concluded that his aunt was probably shrewd enough to realise that Colonel Fitzwilliam, being the youngest son of his titled father, may be considered quite fortunate to have won the hand of an accomplished and charming young woman, who was also very well endowed with an income of her own as a result of her father's hard-won prosperity and benevolence.

  “I have no doubt that Fitzwilliam has made it quite plain to my aunt that he intends to marry Caroline, and she has realised that, having no longer any control over him, she must make the best of it,” said Darcy, while Elizabeth laughed and added, “You mean she will not make a fuss because she knows she will not be heeded and will probably look foolish for having done so?”

  “You are probably quite right, my love,” he said as they retired to bed, presuming that Lady Catherine, having failed to prevent their own marriage, was probably wary of proceeding along a similar path again.

  Elizabeth was happier now than at any time of her life. Not only did she feel deeply loved and blessed with her husband and children, she had the great satisfaction of seeing how well her father liked and admired Mr Darcy.

  During this visit, Mr Bennet had had ample opportunity and time to observe and understand not only the degree of his daughter's happiness, but as well, the extent of her husband's benevolent contribution to the community in which they lived. It was something of which he particularly approved.

  Mr Bennet, who had often expressed outrage at the lack of education received by English children, who were left to grow up illiterate unless their parents were rich enough to afford a private tutor or governess, was particularly impressed by Mr Darcy's efforts, together with the parish councils of Pemberley and Kympton, to provide schooling for the children of the villages on his estate.

  Both his daughter Kitty and young Caroline were full of praise for their benefactor, and Elizabeth was proud to hear her husband speak out against the injustices he saw in society.

  In the course of conversation, replying to a question from Caroline, Mr Darcy had censured the repressive actions of the government.

  “I am uncomfortable with a government that supports the demands of the privileged and represses the poor. I do not accept that birth has anything to do with it. It is a question of responsibility for your fellow men. I believe, as my father and grandfather believed, that those of us who are fortunate in life must play a part in helping those who are not. Not just by doing charitable deeds and giving to the poor, as all of us do, but by taking responsibility to contribute materially to the improvement of their lives, because in the end, to do so will improve the community in which we must all live.”

  As Caroline cheered, aware that Fitzwilliam was of a similar mind, Elizabeth looked across at her father, who was watching his son-in-law with obvious approval. Mr Bennet had never suspected this side of Darcy's character.

  Later he confided in Elizabeth his great pleasure at hearing her husband express such noble sentiments.

  “He is a man of principle and compassion, Lizzie; I know now why you defended him so passionately when I expressed some reservations about him. I hope you have both forgiven me. I see I was much mistaken,” he said.

  Elizabeth smiled and took his arm as they walked. “That was all in the past, Papa, and I was as much to blame as anyone for having misled you about his character. Perhaps my greatest happiness has been in learning how very wrong we all were when we permitted our prejudice to influence our judgment of him. I am truly ashamed of my own attitude at the time. My Aunt and Uncle Gardiner recognised that he is a good and generous man, and once I learned the truth, I knew you would grow to like him as they did,” she said.

  Her father urged her not to be hard upon herself. “So he is and you are a fortunate young woman, Lizzie. I am so very glad you made the right choice.”

  Elizabeth did not have to ask what he meant; she knew only too well how apprehensive her father must have been when she had seemed enamoured of Mr Wickham and even toyed with the prospect of marrying him. Marry Wickham! The very thought sent a shiver through her. How grateful she was to have been spared that humiliation!

  Turning to look at the rest of the party, who were settling down to a game of cards, she said, “I think Caroline and Colonel Fitzwilliam are set to be very happy too, do you not agree, Papa?” to which Mr Bennet could only answer with a wholehearted, “Indeed I do, Lizzie. What is more, I know from my conversations with your Aunt and Uncle Gardiner that they are comp
letely happy with the match. Fitzwilliam is plainly a sensible and intelligent young fellow as well as being devoted to Caroline.”

  Elizabeth readily concurred, adding that she had once had reservations on account of the disparity in their ages, but these had soon been dispelled.

  “Mr Darcy believes that, as in the case of his sister Georgiana and Dr Grantley, such a difference could be an advantage, bringing stability and strength to a marriage,” she said, to which her father replied quietly, “Ah yes, he is right, Lizzie, though its continuing success does depend rather more upon the good sense and understanding of the partners. Where these are present, together with affection and respect, then age will present no hindrance to felicity.”

  There was in his voice a hint of regret, a rueful quality, that reminded Elizabeth of her father's own situation in life.