A Beneficial, If Unwilling, Compromise

by Bronwen Chisholm

  Mr. Darcy turned a withering glare upon the man, but Mr. Collins paid it no heed. He progressed forward until he stood in front of the couple and reached toward Elizabeth.

  “I know not what arts and allurements my cousin has used to make you forget your familial obligations, sir, but I must remind you that you are already engaged.”

  A gasp went up about the room and murmurings grew until Mr. Darcy’s booming voice drowned them out.

  “To whom am I supposedly attached and how come you by such knowledge, sir? Who are you?”

  If possible, Mr. Collins puffed himself up larger. “I am William Collins, rector to Hunsford Parish and heir to Longbourn. Your aunt, the distinguished Lady Catherine de Bourgh, has mentioned your engagement to her daughter many times in my presence. Miss de Bourgh is the most charming of …”

  “Mr. Collins,” Mr. Darcy interrupted the man. Once he was certain he had the rector’s full attention, he continued in a calm voice. “Though I do not doubt my aunt has spoken of the matrimonial wishes she has held since my cousin’s birth, I must disabuse the veracity of them. There is no agreement between my cousin and myself other than our mutual accordance to not bow to my aunt’s desires.”

  Mr. Collins stared blankly at Mr. Darcy.

  “Miss de Bourgh and I are not engaged,” The gentleman clarified.

  “But Lady Catherine …”

  “Lady Catherine refuses to acknowledge anything which does not meet her demands. I assure you, I am my own master and have no compunction to defy my aunt’s unreasonable expectations.”

  The clergyman continued to sputter as his gaze fell upon Elizabeth. “But … but … Miss Elizabeth is to marry me.”

  Mr. Darcy’s countenance turned red as he took a step toward the foolish man. “I beg your pardon?”

  To his credit, Mr. Collins did not appear intimidated by the obviously angry man. He glanced about, searching, until his gaze fell upon Mrs. Bennet still sitting silently beside her eldest daughter.

  “You said Cousin Elizabeth had no prepossession, that it was Cousin Jane who was soon to be engaged.”

  The silence was deafening.

  “Mr. Collins.” Mr. Bennet’s calm voice broke through the tension in the room. “Surely you know it is proper to discuss such things with the father of the young lady, not the mother. I speak from my own observations when I tell you that Mr. Darcy has shown deference to Elizabeth nearly from the moment he entered this neighbourhood. It was no surprise to me when he declared himself this evening. Had you approached me, as propriety demands, I would have advised you of such.”

  The befuddled gentleman pleaded with his cousin. “But Mr. Bennet, you do not understand. Lady Catherine …”

  “Will be forced to accept that which she is powerless to change.” Mr. Bennet’s frown seemed to silence the man for a moment and he took the advantage to draw Mr. Collins away.

  The rector continued to mutter under his breath regarding his benefactress and her displeasure until Mary came upon his other side. Between them, Mr. Bennet and his middle daughter were able to lead the man from the room without further incident.

  Jane, still amazed by all that had occurred, turned to see Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst glaring at any Bennet within their view as they shook their heads and whispered viciously between themselves. A glance at their brother showed Mr. Bingley was oblivious to their actions. A tear slipped down Jane’s cheek.

  CHAPTER teN

  Tension filled the Bennet carriage as it rolled through the night toward Longbourn. Only Lydia and Kitty appeared incognizant of the growing unease within the equipage. Their mindless prattle over their dances, their neighbours’ gossip, and Mr. Collins’ fit of anger, interspersed with yawns and exclamations of their fatigue, only made the silence of their companions more noticeable.

  Elizabeth had fallen asleep shortly after the coach began to move. Mary sat between her two eldest sisters staring at her lap. Jane would have thought her sleeping also if it were not for the continuous rock of her body. From the time she was a small child, Mary had rocked when she was distressed. It seemed to comfort her.

  Jane refused to look at anyone in the carriage, choosing instead to stare out the window at the form of her father riding alongside. The man appeared grieved; his shoulders drooped in a manner she had never witnessed before. From time to time, he would glance toward the driver’s seat and shake his head; most likely at Mr. Collins who, she was certain, was still voicing his displeasure.

  A soft harrumph came from the seat across from Jane, but she refused to look at her mother. Though Mrs. Bennet no longer appeared displeased with Lizzy or Jane, there was something upon which she desired to vent her spleen and Jane did not wish to hear it. She had borne too much this evening already.

  Mr. Bennet spurred his horse and Jane knew they were approaching Longbourn. He would ride ahead so he could assist them from the carriage as he always did. The horses slowed as they took the final curve before stopping in front of the manor house. Jane stared at her family home while trying to imagine what it would be like once Mr. Collins took possession. A shiver ran the length of her spine.

  The door opened, but it was a footman and not Mr. Bennet who assisted the ladies from the carriage. Her father was not in sight as they entered the house either. Jane was surprised when her mother continued up the stairs after removing her outerwear. Normally she would gather them in the drawing room to discuss the events of the evening. Tonight it appeared they would all go to bed instead; and, in that, Jane could not be displeased.

  After handing her things to the maid, she followed her mother’s example and began to climb the stairs. She was a few steps up when Elizabeth linked arms with her.

  “Oh, Jane, I feel as though I could sleep for a hundred years.” She yawned as if to prove her point.

  With a sigh, Jane laid her hand upon her sister’s and they continued up the stairs together. Once inside their room, Elizabeth began pulling pins from her hair, allowing the flowers which had earlier been carefully placed within her curls to fall to the floor. Jane knelt and picked them up, laying them on the dressing table in the event her sister would want to press them in the morning. After all, Lizzy had worn them the night she had become engaged.

  Jane shook her head to dispel her pique and stepped forward to help Elizabeth out of her ball gown. She then turned and accepted her sister’s assistance removing her own. Once they were dressed for bed with hair brushed and braided, Elizabeth blew out the candle and they slipped under the covers.

  Silence reigned for several minutes before Elizabeth whispered, “Are you very angry with me, Jane?”

  Rolling to her side, Jane drew her sister into her embrace. “How could I be angry? Mr. Darcy clearly desired you, and not me.” She squeezed Elizabeth tighter. “I am sorry for the hateful things I said. I know not what came over me.”

  “We were upset; both of us. Mama had us beside ourselves and for nothing.”

  “For nothing?”

  Elizabeth drew back. “Yes. Were you not in the room when Papa said the letter did not regard him?”

  Unable to respond or comprehend her emotions, Jane simply shook her head and hoped Elizabeth would see the motion in the dim light from the fireplace.

  “Oh, dear Jane, you still believed Papa was ill.” Elizabeth embraced her. “I wonder if our sisters know.”

  “What was said?” Jane finally managed over the lump in her throat.

  “To speak truth, I am uncertain.”

  “Were you not in the room?”

  “No, Mr. Darcy told me after he proposed. I assumed you had been there and would be able to relay the conversation.”

  Jane shook her head. They laid together in silence for a moment before she spoke again. “What did Mr. Darcy say?”

  “I hardly remember. I believe Papa revealed the letter referred to a tenant. He did not say who, but I would be surprised if it was not Old Mr. Henry. He has been feeling poorly for nearly a year. His son has taken over run
ning the farm completely.”

  Elizabeth moved a strand of hair from Jane’s face and cupped her sister’s cheek. “Are you well, Jane? Have I upset you again?”

  Laying her hand over Lizzy’s, she laughed. “I would be the silliest of us to be upset after hearing our father is not deathly ill.” She squeezed her sister’s hand. “I believe you are correct, though. I doubt our sisters know. Mary was rocking in the carriage.”

  Elizabeth threw back the counterpane as she sat up. A moment later, the candle was lit and the two eldest sisters donned dressing gowns and slippers then traversed the hallway on tiptoe so as not to disturb their parents or Mr. Collins. They stopped first at Mary’s door. She was not yet asleep, so they drew her with them to the youngest Bennet sisters’ room.

  Giggles could be heard as they approached and they all rolled their eyes before Jane knocked. The door was opened to reveal the youngest with rags in their hair. Though Kitty appeared fatigued, Lydia was bright eyed. She stepped back to allow the others entrance. Once everyone was seated on the bed or chairs, Elizabeth took Mary’s hand and addressed them all.

  “My dears, I apologize for not telling you this as soon as I learned it, but tonight has been very confusing. Mama was mistaken; Papa is not ill.”

  The sisters stared at her, almost as though she had spoken a language unknown to them. Finally, Lydia began to laugh.

  “Lord! And now you are engaged to stuffy Mr. Darcy!”

  A blush covered Elizabeth’s features and Jane quickly scolded her youngest sister. “Lydia. Quiet yourself. Do you wish to waken Mr. Collins?”

  The girl wrinkled her nose, but merely covered her mouth. She leant against Kitty whose mouth had fallen open, but no sound escaped.

  Finally Mary’s soft voice was heard. “Does this mean I do not have to marry our cousin?”

  “None of us need marry Mr. Collins,” Elizabeth said emphatically, but then added, “unless it is your wish and he proposes.”

  Mary shook her head. “He has no interest in me. He spoke only of you all evening. I was pleased when John Lucas finally asked me to dance so I could leave Mr. Collins for a time.” A warm blush covered her cheeks.

  “Oh, Mary,” Jane smiled. She suspected her sister harboured a tendre for the middle Lucas son. He may not be an heir, but he was a kind man. “Did you enjoy your dance with John?”

  Her blush deepened as Mary nodded. “He complimented me. He said he did not realize my eyes were like yours, Jane.” She twisted the edge of her dressing gown around her finger. “I believe he has always been infatuated with you.”

  “I am far too old for him. He is nearer your age.” Jane’s unease from earlier in the day began to slip away. Finally something good had come from it all; Mary had been noticed by the young man of her choice.

  “La! Mary and John Lucas? I suppose they would do. Perhaps he will go into the regulars! A red coat would improve his looks.” Lydia giggled, but none of her sisters joined her.

  “He most certainly will not!” Mary exclaimed. “John could not hurt a fly. He would do much better as a lawyer or clergyman.” She glanced down to her hands. “I know I would not want him injured in battle.”

  “Of course not.” Elizabeth patted Mary’s arm. “It is late. We should all go to sleep now.”

  “But, Lizzy, are you not upset with Mama?” Kitty asked. “Because of her misconception, you are now engaged to Mr. Darcy and you despise him.”

  It was now Elizabeth’s turn to blush. “Despise is a very strong word, Kitty. I hope I never felt that resolutely against Mr. Darcy.”

  Jane watched her younger sisters exchange surreptitious glances, but no one responded.

  “I am not saying that I did not feel strongly …” Elizabeth sighed. “I was wrong. Mr. Darcy is not as bad as I believed him to be. I faulted his pride because he wounded my own.”

  Lydia’s mouth fell open. “I do not understand how you can say that after what he did to Mr. Wickham.”

  Elizabeth had begun to turn toward the door, but her sister’s words stopped her. She turned back and stood before them. Jane had never seen such a determined gaze upon her sister’s countenance.

  “I was also foolish when I believed Mr. Wickham so readily. I did not think of the impropriety of him telling me such things. Mr. Darcy has explained the matter to me in great detail and it is not as Mr. Wickham has said.” She crossed her arms before her and looked directly at Lydia and Kitty. “I believe Papa will speak to you in the morning regarding him, but I have no doubt he will be banned from visiting Longbourn in the future.”

  Lydia cried out once more. “Because Mr. Darcy does not like him? That is unfair, Lizzy!”

  “No. It is because Mr. Wickham cannot be trusted in polite society. He is not all he appears.” Elizabeth stepped closer to her youngest sister. “Lydia, Mr. Wickham thinks nothing of a lady’s reputation. He would ruin us all and go on his way without a second thought. You must guard yourself around him, and the other officers as well. What do we know of them but what they have told us? They may all be wolves in sheep’s clothing.”

  Mary nodded solemnly. “And we must remember that loss of virtue in a female is irretrievable …”

  “Yes, Mary,” Elizabeth interrupted as she laid a reassuring hand upon Mary’s shoulder. “I fear we all have become too trusting of those about us. Living in such a small community, we do not realize there are those in the world who are not as well principled as the people to whom we are accustomed.”

  The sisters fell silent for a moment. Jane’s thoughts were drawn to the Bingley sisters who pretended friendship, but spoke cruelly behind one’s back. Lydia continued to pout, but thankfully spoke no more. Finally, Kitty raised her eyes.

  “Lizzy? If Papa is not ill, then who is?”

  With a shrug of her shoulders, Elizabeth glanced toward Jane. “We are uncertain. Neither of us were in the room when Papa announced the letter did not pertain to him. I fear it may be Old Mr. Henry.”

  Kitty’s eyes filled with tears. “Oh, I hope not. Mr. Henry is one of the kindest tenants we have. He gave me my first kitten.”

  Jane smiled. “I remember. She was grey with a white line around each eye as if it had been drawn there.”

  The sisters spent a few moments reminiscing over the older gentleman before finally finding their beds. It had been an exceedingly long day. As Jane pulled the cover back over herself, she heard Elizabeth sigh.

  “Are you well, Lizzy?”

  Elizabeth did not answer.

  “Do you regret your engagement to Mr. Darcy?” Jane asked in barely a whisper.

  Her sister’s breath was broken, as though she stifled a sob. “I am certain it is just fatigue. I meant what I said before. Mr. Darcy is a good man. He will treat me well.” She released a frustrated groan. “Oh, what is the matter with me? I am sure he is the only man with whom I might find happiness. Who else would find my impertinence endearing? Why am I crying again? Papa is not dying. I should be pleased.”

  Jane drew her sister into her embrace once more, rocking slowly as she ran a hand over Elizabeth’s hair. “Hush, dear one. It has been a long day and you must be exhausted. Everything will be well come morning. You will see.”

  The hall clock chimed four and Elizabeth choked out a giggle. “It is morning.”

  Unable to suppress her own laughter, Jane joined her sister. Neither knew how long they lie there, alternating between giggles and tears, before they finally succumbed to their fatigue. It was nearly midday when they finally awoke.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “Has your headache passed?” Elizabeth asked in a soft voice.

  Jane lifted the corner of the cool cloth and peeked out at her sister. “The throbbing has ceased. The dull ache behind my eyes remains.”

  “Oh, poor Jane. How many cups of punch did you drink?”

  The cloth fell back into place as Jane laid her hand upon her forehead. “I did not count.”

  “Here, have some chamomile tea. Hill made it
especially for you.”

  Reluctantly, Jane removed the cloth and rolled onto one elbow. Once she was seated and leaning against the headboard, she accepted the cup. The fragrance of the tea was revitalizing, but the taste was bitter. She forced it down and then accepted a piece of dry toast.

  “I wanted to spread some jam on it, but Hill told me it would be best if you ate it plain,” Elizabeth explained.

  Her gaze was anxious and Jane felt a pang of guilt. “You need not sit with me. I am certain you would rather be outside.”

  Elizabeth sighed and sat back in her seat. “I have been forbidden to leave the house. Mama is certain Mr. Darcy will visit and she does not want me to appear windblown.” She laughed. “Though I am certain it was my appearance at Netherfield with my hem six inches deep in mud which caught his attention.”

  “Nonsense, Lizzy.” Jane took another sip and tried to smile. “He was already smitten. Do you not remember the evening at Lucas Lodge? He followed you about, listening to your conversations. I am sure he thought no one noticed as he attempted to appear unaffected, but Charlotte noticed and mentioned it to me.”

  “You did not notice,” Elizabeth said as she busied herself with the tea tray. “You were speaking with Mr. Bingley.”

  Jane frowned.

  “What occurred last night, Jane?” She laid a hand on her sister’s arm. “Why was Mr. Bingley so cross? I have never seen him in such a state.”

  Taking a moment to compose herself, Jane sipped the tea once more then stared at the rim. “I confronted him regarding his sister’s behaviour.”

  “Oh.”

  “He tried to make excuses for Miss Bingley.” She closed her eyes in an attempt to block out the memory of their words. “I fear I spoke rudely regarding her.”

  “No less than she deserved,” Elizabeth muttered under her breath.

  “Lizzy.”

  Elizabeth turned to her sister with a severe look and mocked her sister’s censorious tone. “Jane.” She took a deep breath. “I am certain it was difficult for you; you never say a harsh word about anyone, but I cannot help thinking it could be a good thing.”