Master of Longbourn

by Leenie Brown

  “Did Miss Bingley join you today?” Collins asked. Caroline Bingley and her sister Louisa did not call very often. They usually made their appearance once per week, stayed for a quarter hour, and departed.

  “Thankfully, no,” Bingley replied. “My sisters are still not pleased to be adding the Bennets to our family, although I think that is due to the fact that Darcy has also joined himself to the Bennets.”

  Collins had heard several tales about the ambitions of Caroline Bingley. “She will attend the season?” he asked.

  “As soon as possible,” Bingley replied.

  “She will do well,” Collins added. “She is beautiful, and beauty is often all that is required.” He gasped. “It is not that I am saying all she has to her credit is her beauty,” he added.

  Bingley laughed, obviously not offended in the least. “No, she has her fortune.” He tipped his head and pushed the door to the study open. “And very little else,” he muttered as Collins passed him.

  “Surely, she possesses some good qualities,” Collins said. “They are currently just well-hidden behind ambition,” he added.

  “You, my friend, are wise beyond your years,” Bingley said with a chuckle.

  “Mr. Lucas,” Collins said in surprise as he realized that Mr. Bennet was not alone.

  “Mr. Collins,” the man replied with a small bow. “Mr. Bingley, Mr. Darcy.”

  “It seems our Mary is slyer than I thought possible.” Mr. Bennet looked from one gentleman to another. “It also appears I am the last to know this.”

  “We were sworn to secrecy,” Bingley said as he took a seat. “We were not supposed to know.”

  Mr. Bennet’s head bobbed up and down. “That is understandable.”

  “And it was Mr. Collins who remonstrated me for my part in the affair,” Mr. Lucas added. “He encouraged me to come to you.”

  Mr. Bennet smiled at Collins. “You shall do very well in my stead if you are willing to call out not only Mr. Lucas but also Mr. Goulding. Lucas is a fine chap, but Goulding is a bit of trouble. Too high in the step for my liking.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Mr. Lucas in reply to the stern look he received from Mr. Bennet. “I will do my best to lead him right. Much as Mr. Collins has done for me. I thank you –”

  Whatever else he was about to say was lost to the door of the study flying open and Mrs. Bennet entering with Kitty in tow and both Lydia and Mary close behind. “Mr. Bennet, you must make Kitty accept Captain Saunders.”

  “Must I?” The gentleman replied, looking past his wife to his daughter, who was shaking her head.

  “Yes, you must!” Mrs. Bennet pushed Kitty forward. “An officer! She refused an officer!” The words were spoken as if refusing an officer were tantamount to refusing the king.

  Collins watched Kitty. Her cheeks were understandably red, but instead of looking down in embarrassment, she held her chin high, and he could see her determination in her eyes.

  “Am I to understand that you do not wish to eventually become the good captain’s wife?” Her father asked her.

  “I do not,” she replied. “Not now, not ever.”

  Collins’s heart skipped a beat. He had not yet failed. There was still a chance he could persuade her to like him if she were not attached to Captain Saunders.

  “Have you heard a more ridiculous thing?” her mother cried. “What will she do if she does not marry the captain? It is not right that Mr. Collins will have to see to her care if there is never another offer! It is bad enough he will be stuck with Mary.”

  Mr. Bennet chuckled. “I do not think Mary will remain unmarried, will you, Mary?”

  Mary stepped forward sheepishly. “No,” she answered uneasily, looking at her father, then Mr. Lucas, and back to her father, who nodded, causing her to smile. “No, I believe I shall marry.”

  “Indeed?” Mrs. Bennet’s brows rose with her voice. “Who shall marry you? You would not even attempt to win Mr. Collins.”

  Mary looked at Collins and smiled. It was the first time he had ever received anything other than a scowl from the lady.

  “Mr. Collins does not want me, Mama,” she said as if it were just a matter of routine to make such declarations, “but Mr. Lucas does.”

  Mrs. Bennet’s mouth opened and closed and opened again as her hand flew to her heart. “Mr. Lucas?” she finally squeaked.

  “Yes, my dear, I just gave the young man permission to present his offer, which it seems will be accepted with alacrity,” Mr. Bennet replied.

  “Oh.”

  Mrs. Bennet seemed completely and utterly lost for words, and for a moment, Collins feared she might swoon. He thought to move, take her arm, and lead her to chair, but since no one else, particularly not Mr. Bennet, seemed concerned, he did not. Instead, he stayed where he was and shifted his eyes back to Kitty. How she could withstand the mortification of having herself presented in such a fashion before so many, he could not fathom. She was apparently as strong as she was gentle.

  “Now, Kitty, my dear,” her father said, “was there a particular reason for your refusal of Captain Saunders? He seemed a respectable sort of fellow.”

  Kitty’s chin rose just a touch higher. “He is a fine gentleman,” she began.

  “Who looks quite dashing in his uniform,” her father added, causing Kitty to scowl.

  “His uniform?” she cried. “Why must I accept someone simply because he wears a uniform? He will not wear it all his life, and then what am I to do when he is no longer dashing. There must be some commonality, some shared interest, and there is none.”

  “Those things come with time,” Mrs. Bennet cajoled.

  Kitty pulled her arm away from her mother. “I want to marry a gentleman whom I know shares my interests or is willing to at least explore them, and I will gladly do the same for him. I do not want to just be the lady on his arm, Mama.” She turned her eyes toward Collins. “I want to be the lady sitting next to him in his study, reading or talking or just…sitting because he makes me feel at ease.”

  Was she speaking of wishing to marry him?

  “But Captain Saunders is so handsome in his uniform,” her mother tried once more.

  Kitty huffed but did not turn her eyes away from Collins. Then, with a small stamp of her foot, she said, “I do not wish for an officer. I would rather marry a gentleman in a parson’s frock or a well-worn brown jacket than any man in a uniform,” before she left the room.

  Collins looked down at his jacket – a well-worn brown jacket. The right side of his mouth tipped up in a small smirk. She wanted him.

  “William,” Mr. Bennet said softly, drawing Collins’s attention. “Go get her, Son.”

  Chapter 12

  Lydia caught Kitty by the arm just as Collins reached the bottom of the stairs. He wanted to rush up the stairs himself just as Lydia had done, but he did not. Instead, he waited where he was, impatient to speak to Kitty, but not wanting to interrupt Lydia. The girl liked him so little as it was, there was no need to give her more reason for her dislike.

  “You like Mr. Collins?” Lydia demanded of her sister.

  Kitty turned, and seeing him at the bottom of the steps, smiled and shook her head. “No, I love him.”

  She loved him? Oh, he was a fortunate fellow! How? He did not care. That she loved him was his only thought.

  “Love him?” Lydia cried. “But when I asked you last night you said you did not like him, that you were only being kind.”

  That was a good point. He had heard that as well when passing Kitty’s door on his way to dinner. It was why he had been so confident that Kitty would accept Captain Saunders.

  Kitty’s head dipped. “I lied because you have been abominable to him, and I did not want to be the reason for your behaving even worse toward him.”

  Ah, so that was it. She was thinking of him even then. Lying might not be right, but her reason seemed noble.

  Lydia gasped, clearly affronted by such a suggestion that she would behave as Kitty said. “If I k
new you liked him, then I would have been pleasant.”

  To Collins, Kitty did not look as if she believed that. And for good reason, most likely.

  “Truly,” Lydia insisted. “If you love him and he loves you, then he would never turn Mama or me out of our home. You would not let him. Therefore, I would be free to be pleasant.”

  Kitty shook her head and took her sister’s hands. “I would not have to stop him from turning you out of your home. He is good and kind and loving, Lydia. If you would just put away the foolish notion that he is here to steal your home, you would see it. He would never, never turn you out.”

  He had waited long enough.

  “Not even if your sister had accepted Captain Saunders and left me to grow old and lonely without her.” Collins climbed the few steps that stood between them.

  Lydia’s slowly turned toward him, eyes wide. “You would not?”

  He shook his head. “You are my family, and I shall always care for you, even if you do not care for me.”

  Lydia’s brows furrowed. “Truly?”

  He nodded. “Even if you were disagreeable.”

  “No.” Lydia shook her head. “No one is kind to disagreeable people.”

  “Mr. Collins is,” Kitty said. “He has not been harsh with you at all. Not once, and you deserved to be spoken to crossly on several occasions.”

  The replying scowl Lydia wore did not hide the fact that she did not appreciate being reprimanded. She turned to him again.

  “Do you love Kitty?”

  A smile spread across his face of its own accord. “With all that I am.”

  “And you will not send me away?”

  He shook his head. “Not until you marry, which shall not be for a few years.”

  Lydia gasped. “A few years? I shall marry sooner than that!”

  “Only for the deepest of affection and respect,” Kitty scolded. “It is not a thing to be rushed into.”

  Again, Lydia scowled. “You sound very much like Jane, and I do not wish to be scolded.” She turned and with a flick of her head scampered down the stairs, leaving Kitty and Collins alone, or as alone as one might be while on the stairs in the middle of a busy home full of people.

  “You love me?” Kitty asked shyly.

  Collins moved up to stand next to her, then taking her hand, drew her down to sit beside him on the steps while he assured her that he did indeed love her.

  “However, I never thought you would return my affections,” he admitted.

  “Why would you think that?” She lifted the hand that held hers and kissed it. “Are you well?” she asked when he did not answer her query.

  “I have never been kissed before,” he said softly.

  Her eyes grew wide. “What? Never?”

  He shook his head.

  “Not even on your hand or your cheek?”

  He could well imagine how something like that could cause her to be so shocked. Her family was not like his.

  “My father was an unpleasant, angry man, who saw no need for such softness,” he explained. “It would make his son less of a man to have such frivolous emotions such as love running rampant in his mind.” He smiled at her soft gasp. “It is difficult to imagine when your father is as good as yours is, but those were the very words my father used when dismissing a maid, without a letter, who had come to comfort me after I fell and cut my leg. I was ten, and at that moment, I determined that I would never be like my father, not because I did not possess the ability to be as he was, but because I chose to be better.” He shrugged. “I had to bear a great deal of reproof for being weak, for weakness is what my father called kindness.”

  “How horrible,” Kitty held his hand to her heart and then, after a moment’s pause, released it before leaning over to kiss him on the cheek. “You could never be like him. Your heart is too good.”

  His face grew warm both from the kiss and her words of praise.

  “Why did you think I would never love you?” she asked.

  “Because you are all that a young lady should be — kind, beautiful, gentle, graceful, and so at ease with everyone – and I am… Well, look at me. I am large and not at all handsome. And I speak too much.”

  “Only when you are nervous or when you forget to be nervous.” She smoothed the hair from his forehead when he looked at her quizzically. “I like hearing you talk when you forget to be nervous. You look so happy when you do. I imagine that is how you must look when giving a sermon.”

  “I could not say.” She liked listening to him ramble?

  “And you are handsome,” she said with a smile. “Your hair is just the right shade of brown, as are your eyes. They are not so dark as most, but rather unusual I should think, and perfectly suited to you.”

  “They are ordinary,” he declared.

  “Not to me,” she said firmly, “and I do know a lot about how people look. I have not seen eyes so golden.”

  He was not at all certain he believed her, but he wanted to. Therefore, he allowed it to be so.

  “I am still large and awkward, and I do not always know how to act.”

  “You perform beautifully,” she replied, wrapping her arm around his and leaning into his side. “And I like tall gentlemen with broad shoulders. You are even taller and have broader shoulders than any of the officers I have met. It is quite a lovely distinction.”

  Again, he was not certain she was right, but he wanted her to be. Therefore, he allowed it to be so.

  “I shall continue to tell you until you believe it,” she said softly. “For it is true. I would never, ever lie to you. I could not, for it would break my heart to disappoint you.”

  He drew a slow deep breath and released it just as slowly. For two minutes, they sat in silence with her head leaning on his shoulder in a most comforting way. She accepted him as he was. He did not need to be anything more or less than what he had always been. However, he knew that with her at his side, he would always strive to be more and not less.

  Finally, he broke the silence. “I cannot promise to ever be more than I am. I shall likely always speak too much. I do not know if I shall ever come to love novels as you do, but I shall attempt to like them. Evelina is very good, so it is entirely possible that I will come to love novels as much as poetry or sermons.” He pressed his lips together. In the middle of making an offer of marriage was not the time to begin rambling.

  However, she did not seem to mind as she was smiling up at him, waiting patiently, when he looked down at her.

  “I can only promise,” he continued, “to love you with every ounce of my strength until my dying breath if you will allow me to be your husband.” He shook his head. “No, that is not right. I shall love you whether you marry me or not. I shall just be infinitely happier if you marry me and not someone else.”

  She looked at him silently, her clear blue as a deep lake on summer’s day eyes filled with expectation.

  His brows furrowed. Why was she not answering? Was this not where she was supposed to answer his question? His eyes grew wide. “Forgive me, I forgot the most important part. Will you marry me?”

  “Yes.”

  It was one small word, spoken in a soft, sweet lilt, but it was filled with so much – love, acceptance, trust, understanding – so many things that had seemed just outside of his reach all his life until this moment.

  He rose and pulled her to her feet. “I should tell you that I have not practiced hugging anyone, so I might be rather bad at it.”

  She giggled. “You cannot be bad at hugging.”

  “I might be. I did not think to ask Mr. Bingley or Mr. Darcy about this,” he muttered. It was an oversight, perhaps, but not an intentional one. He had been so focused on just persuading her to like him that he had not considered anything beyond that. Marriage was his goal, but he had not thought he would be where he was so quickly.

  She stepped up one step so that she was closer to being his height. “Just wrap your arms around me. Like this.” She took his hands and d
rew them around her waist before she wrapped her arms around his neck. “You can pull me closer,” she whispered.

  “I have never kissed anyone,” he whispered back, “but I should very much like to kiss you.” Having her here in his arms was causing all sorts of new and unusual feelings and desires. It was delightful. She was so soft, and she smelled like flowers. He’d never be able to walk through a garden again without thinking of her and how she felt here in his arms. He pulled her closer as she had suggested, and his lips tipped into a smirk. It was a good suggestion. Closer was even better.

  “Then kiss me,” she said. “And I will not know if you are doing it well or badly for I have never kissed a gentleman.”

  His smirk grew into a smile. “That is very good to know.” Tentatively, he bent his head and pressed his lips against hers. They were as soft as the rest of her. To his delight and surprise, he discovered that the Good Lord must have created him knowing how to kiss, for the thrill of that first touch seemed to take over his senses as he pressed her more firmly against him and claimed her mouth with all the passion that first thrill had aroused.

  Epilogue

  One year, seven months, and two weeks after Collins’s proposal had been accepted on the staircase on what he now referred to as a glorious December day, the flowers in Longbourn’s garden were displaying their finest colours as the Bennet family walked its paths.

  “Your roses are coming along nicely,” Mrs. Bennet said as she came to stand next to Mr. Collins.

  He had received as a wedding gift a small rose bush from Hunsford’s garden by Lady Catherine, and it now bore lovely small white buds.

  “They are nearly as good as mine,” Mrs. Bennet added.

  Collins smiled at his mother-in-law. “I should be honoured if they were ever half as good as yours, madame.”

  She had every right to be proud of her garden. Her roses were fragrant and robust, producing beautiful flowers which were excellent for cutting.

  She giggled and swatted the words away. “You are a flatterer, Mr. Collins.”

  “No, madame, I am not. As the psalmist says, ‘The Lord shall cut off all flattering lips,’ and so I do not flatter. Your roses are the finest I have seen, and when mine are half as good as yours, in due time, I shall be honoured to be compared in such a fashion.”