Implacable Resentment

by Jann Rowland

  Mr. Collins continued to preach on his expectations for their union, though he did so in between winces whenever he unintentionally became more animated. The drone of his voice began to fade into the background as Elizabeth contemplated some of the measures she could take to discourage his amorous advances. Perhaps she should ensure to have wine at the table every night; he might not be fooled into drinking too much again, but at least she would have a bottle handy which she could break over his thick head should nothing else cool his ardor. She doubted even Mr. Collins could mistake such a blatant act for anything other than her disinclination to allow her husband his connubial bliss. At least, however, it would gain her another night free from his advances.

  The expected visit from Mr. Collins’s patroness came that morning, almost too early for normal visiting hours. Given what she had heard of the woman, Elizabeth suspected that Lady Catherine did not believe that the rules of polite society applied to her. Her subsequent behavior proved that fact.

  She was a large woman, tall and slender, standing nearly a head taller than Elizabeth herself. Though disposed to be critical of the lady, Elizabeth was forced to acknowledge that Lady Catherine had likely been a handsome woman in her youth, though her weathered features and hair—which was gray peppered with black—indicated that the lady was likely well into her sixth or seventh decade. She was also every bit the imperious noble Elizabeth had expected her to be, observing her surroundings with a haughty and critical eye. Lady Catherine had not been in the house for a minute before she berated a nearby maid for some imagined deficiency. Once she had seen to that task—seeming indifferent to what she had just done—she sat in the high-backed chair situated at the end of the low table in the sitting room. Elizabeth and Collins sat on a sofa immediately to her right, and the lady soon proceeded to study Elizabeth. Lady Catherine’s expression almost seemed to indicate that she was a queen being forced to entertain the lowliest milkmaid in her kingdom.

  “So this is the new Mrs. Collins,” said Lady Catherine after a few moments. “In truth, I had doubted your reports of the handsomeness of your cousin’s daughters. I must own, however, that she appears to be a pretty sort of girl.”

  “Indeed, she is, your ladyship, and I am not indifferent to my good fortune in securing such a handsome bride. In fact, if I may say so—”

  “I understand that you are one among five daughters,” interrupted Lady Catherine. As she did so, Mr. Collins immediately ceased what he was saying and put a hand to his mouth.

  Elizabeth, though she was amused and disgusted at the same time, could only respond in the affirmative. “I am the second of five sisters, Lady Catherine.”

  “All as handsome as—”

  Again, Lady Catherine cut the parson off. “And you have been living with your uncle in London, Mrs. Collins?”

  “I have, your ladyship,” replied Elizabeth.

  “You would do well to remember this piece of advice, Mr. Collins,” said Lady Catherine, turning to the parson, who was listening intently. “This estate you are set to inherit is not able to support so many children as the Bennets have produced. I would suggest you have only the minimum of children in order to better support your family. The requisite heir and perhaps another boy should do nicely.”

  “As always, your advice is timely and wise, your ladyship,” said Mr. Collins, his attitude that of one who was caught in the throes of ecstasy. “We shall take care to produce only male children, in accordance with your most excellent direction.”

  It was all Elizabeth could do not to shake her head at the parson’s stupidity. But nothing showed on Lady Catherine’s face to suggest a similar frame of mind, and the considering expression she had worn since she had arrived had not changed one iota. Elizabeth felt like a side of pork being examined to determine whether it was worth purchasing.

  “And you, Mrs. Collins. Since you have lived with your aunt, can I assume you have been instructed in the proper way to manage a house? I will not stand for the wife of my parson executing her duties in anything less than the proper and most exacting fashion. I assure you that I am very attentive to such a thing.”

  Taking a deep breath and reminding herself that she would not be required to deal with this harridan for long if all went as she hoped, Elizabeth answered, “My aunt was diligent in ensuring that I was given the proper instruction. She shared the task of managing her home once I became old enough to be involved. I assure you that I am more than capable of managing the parsonage, Lady Catherine.”

  “More than capable, indeed,” said Mr. Collins. “I assure you, your ladyship, that as per your most exacting and explicit instruction, I would never choose for my wife a woman who could not manage my house. My wife shall be diligent in following your most excellent advice to the very letter.”

  Lady Catherine turned to look on Mr. Collins, and though her expression did not waver in the slightest, Elizabeth had the distinct impression that she was exasperated with his frequent interruptions. It was a suspicion which appeared to be shared by Mr. Collins, as he fairly wilted under the great lady’s stare, as evinced by his sudden inability to look at her and his increased mopping of his brow.

  “Mr. Collins, I believe it is time for you to begin working on your sermon for this Sunday’s service. Perhaps you should retire to your bookroom in order to do so.”

  His mouth agape, Mr. Collins stared at his patroness before glancing at Elizabeth. Elizabeth had to acknowledge that perhaps the lady was not quite as senseless as she would have thought.

  Mr. Collins turned back to Lady Catherine when it was clear that his wordless plea would not be answered and said, “Your ladyship, perhaps I should remain while you instruct my wife, so that I may ensure that your directives are being carried out properly.”

  “Now, Mr. Collins!” said the lady imperiously.

  Mr. Collins stood and fairly scurried from the room, his brief defiance dying an unceremonious death in the face of Lady Catherine’s command. Of course, he was not able to depart without bowing and scraping as he sidled along. It took a full minute—and a clearing of Lady Catherine’s throat—before the door finally closed behind him.

  Though unaware of what the lady specifically wished to discuss with her, Elizabeth was at the very least grateful for the fact that Mr. Collins was no longer nearby.

  “Mrs. Collins,” said Lady Catherine as soon as the parson had quit the room, “may I speak frankly?”

  Intrigued, Elizabeth indicated that she would take no offense.

  “You seem like an intelligent young woman. Pray, what is your age?”

  Though it was an impertinent question, Elizabeth decided that there was no point in refusing to answer. “I am not yet twenty, your ladyship.”

  The lady nodded slowly. “I had expected Mr. Collins to choose your eldest sister. She should have been the first to be wed unless she was already promised to another.”

  Elizabeth had no desire to discuss the details of her father’s betrayal. “Jane is not promised, but a young man recently moved into the neighborhood and has fixed his attentions upon her.”

  “Then this young man had precedence, and as your father had an abundance of daughters to offer, he was not required to redirect his eldest daughter’s attentions.”

  Lady Catherine paused and seemed to consider Elizabeth for a moment before she spoke yet again. “As we agreed, I shall speak frankly. You seem to be an intelligent young woman. I believe you cannot have missed your husband’s less than stellar intellect.”

  Surprised though she was that Lady Catherine would refer to the man in so blunt a manner, Elizabeth could only agree with the woman’s opinion.

  “He shall require constant supervision, Mrs. Collins. You must be the one to provide it.”

  Incredulous at the suggestion that she must be her so-called husband’s keeper, Elizabeth gaped at the woman. “You wish for me to supervise Mr. Collins?”

  “Are you not his wife? Yes, I do indeed expect you to take on that respons
ibility. I have too many people within my purview to continually devote myself to preventing Mr. Collins from making a fool out of himself. It is one of the reasons I encouraged him to find a wife.”

  Elizabeth could not believe what she was hearing. Lady Catherine knew that she had given the living to a man of mean understanding and little social grace, and she expected his new—and unwilling!—wife to bear the responsibility of making him respectable. Needless to say, Elizabeth was little inclined to blunt William Collins’s incompetence when in company.

  Of course, it would not be prudent to state such to the lady in question. Elizabeth was very aware of the fact that a living could not be taken away without extraordinary circumstances, and she was certain that foolishness did not fall under that contingency. But while Lady Catherine could not force Mr. Collins from the parsonage, she had the ability to make his life truly uncomfortable and, more importantly, the ability to make Elizabeth even more miserable than she already was. She would not mind William Collins as if he was her child, but she would not purposely alienate Lady Catherine either.

  Luckily, the lady did not seem to require a response and seemed to take Elizabeth’s concurrence as inevitable. “Furthermore, I expect you to be an active and useful sort of person. As the people within the parish have been without a parson’s wife for several years now, they will benefit from your assistance. You will extend it and become known in the neighborhood as soon as may be.”

  “Yes, your ladyship,” replied Elizabeth. In this instance, she had no reason to oppose Lady Catherine’s will. Helping the people of the area was something she would do without question. Not only would it take her away from Mr. Collins, it would fill her time, and it was only proper.

  If Elizabeth had thought her instruction to be over, she was sadly mistaken, as Lady Catherine had only begun to speak. The lady spent most of the morning in the parsonage’s parlor, discussing with Elizabeth exactly how she was expected to behave, how she was expected to manage the parsonage, and when she was expected to approach Lady Catherine for her opinion. The subjects were wide-ranging and covered such topics as how much meat to purchase for consumption, the exact number of chickens Elizabeth would keep, how to manage the servants, and what time she should retire at night. And through it all, Lady Catherine kept up a running monologue and rarely required Elizabeth to give a response. When the lady did request a reply, Elizabeth quickly learned that her noncommittal murmurs would be taken as agreement, for it was clear that the lady believed any directives would be obeyed without question.

  For Elizabeth’s part, she was far too amused by the woman’s audacity and the depth of her meddling to be offended by it. Lady Catherine had no faults, as she owned herself, and Elizabeth found Mr. Darcy’s assessment of his female relation to be so close to the mark that she was often forced to put her hand in front of her mouth to avoid laughing out loud.

  When Lady Catherine finally took her leave, Elizabeth was relieved to see her go. Furthermore, it was fortunate that Elizabeth had managed to withstand the great lady while not giving offense. It was only a victory of sorts, but she viewed it as a victory nonetheless.

  After a full night and day spent in her room, Jane was finally able to leave and move about the house. Her father had returned from the church the previous day and had quickly retired to his library; then, unless Jane was mistaken, he had promptly drank himself into oblivion while Jane and the other ladies of the family waited in their respective chambers, fretting over what had happened and wondering what their future held. Jane’s last glimpse of Elizabeth had been through her window when Mr. Bennet had held her firmly by the arm and hustled her down the short path to the church to meet with Mr. Collins.

  Only Mrs. Hill bringing them trays at mealtimes had broken the monotony. The stable hand stationed out in the hall had denied their appeals to leave their rooms long after it was necessary, stating that Mr. Bennet had instructed him to keep them confined until he approved their release. Frustrating though it was, they had no choice until something had reminded the master of the house that he had not yet released his family. That morning, the stable hand had disappeared, and Jane had been able to leave her room for the first time since the previous morning. It was nothing more than luck that she had been able to convince the housekeeper to arrange for a letter to be delivered to Mr. Darcy at Netherfield. In truth, Jane was well aware of the fact that the letter would almost certainly do no good whatsoever. But she hoped that with the true knowledge of the events of that morning, Mr. Darcy would find it in his heart to forgive Elizabeth, even if nothing could be done to release the young woman from the bonds of her marriage.

  When Jane was finally able to leave her rooms, all was quiet in the house. It was still quite early in the morning, and her mother and younger sisters were therefore still abed. Unfortunately, that state of affairs would change far sooner than Jane would have hoped.

  The first interruption to her solitude was her sister Mary. Seeing her was not a trial in and of itself, as Mary tended to be of a more reserved disposition than the other ladies of the house, but Mary was not as quiet as she normally might have been. As soon as she saw Jane in the sitting room gazing out the window, she crossed over and sat close, her agitation quite clear in her taut posture and tightly clenched hands.

  “Have you broken your fast?” asked Mary as she sat close to Jane.

  Jane managed nothing more than a wan smile. “I am afraid I have not been able to muster much of an appetite.”

  Nodding, Mary was silent, struggling for a few moments, and then she finally blurted, “How could our father have betrayed Elizabeth in such a manner?”

  “He has not simply betrayed Elizabeth,” was Jane’s response. Mary’s eyes widened at Jane’s insinuation, though she did not argue the point. There was nothing to argue, for it was nothing more than the literal truth. “I suspect that we are finally seeing exactly what manner of man he is.”

  Jane was a forgiving sort of girl. She had always believed in the basic goodness of her fellow man, and she thought that everyone deserved a chance to prove themselves sincere. But her parents’ behavior since Elizabeth’s arrival had shown her the cruelty they could display, and though she had always known that her mother had possessed the capacity for a startling level of vindictiveness, her father’s behavior had been something of a surprise. His indolence was established. His taciturnity and tendency to hold his wife in contempt was well understood. But Jane had not ever suspected him capable of forcing a daughter to marry a fool against her will. This was made even more astonishing by the fact that all signs suggested that Elizabeth’s relationship with Mr. Darcy was almost certainly more extensive than any of them had realized. Marriage to Mr. Darcy would benefit the family even more than marriage with Mr. Collins would. Surely their father must have seen that!

  Mary was obviously shocked, though it was likely more because Jane had voiced such thoughts than because Mary disagreed.

  “What do we do now?” asked Mary.

  “Is there anything we can do?” asked Jane. She was unable to keep the bitterness from her voice. “Everything has changed, and none of it is for the better.”

  “I do not think it has changed,” said Mary. “I believe that for the first time, our eyes are truly opened. You were right, sister.”

  There was nothing Jane could do to dispute that sentiment. Silence descended over the two sisters, and they remained in the sitting room together for some time, each lost in their own thoughts.

  At length, their peace was interrupted by the intrusion of their youngest sisters. But while Kitty appeared to be subdued, Lydia was as brash as ever, talking to her elder sister in a loud monologue and rarely pausing for Kitty to respond.

  As they sat on a sofa in the middle of the room, Lydia looked about and sighed with an exaggerated smile of contentment. “It is so nice to have one’s house back to oneself. Luckily, we shall not have to put up with that person again any time soon.”

  “Contrary to what y
ou believe, Elizabeth is every bit as good as anyone in this family, Lydia,” said Jane, incensed at her sister’s senselessness. “It is typical, I suppose, for an ignorant child such as you to espouse such feelings when you know nothing of the situation.”

  Lydia appeared shocked that Jane would speak to her in such a manner and retorted, “Mama and Papa both hate her. What further evidence do I need?”

  “Perhaps an opinion of your own,” snapped Jane. “Unfortunately, we know that shall never happen, as there is no room in your empty head for any thoughts other than redcoats and flirting.”

  “I cannot imagine why you would attempt to defend that . . . that . . .” She did not continue, which was just as well.

  “Be silent, Lydia!” said Mary, causing Lydia to look at her with astonishment. “Before you pass judgment on your sister, you should learn exactly what our parents have held against her. And even then, you should hold your tongue; forgiveness and charity are like unto Christ, after all.”

  “I shall not listen to this,” declared Lydia. “Come, Kitty. We shall return to my room until we can go into Meryton to see the officers.”

  Lydia stood, but Kitty did not follow. She sat, biting her lip and looking at Mary and Jane in mute appeal.

  “Come, Kitty!” snapped Lydia.

  “You may stay with us if you like,” said Jane, taking pity on her second youngest sister.

  “I would prefer that,” said Kitty with a sigh of relief.

  Though Lydia appeared as if she was about to berate Kitty for her desertion, the cold glares of her elder sisters seemed to induce her to think better of it.

  “Then I shall go to Meryton and keep the officers to myself,” said Lydia in an airy tone as she turned to leave. “I believe they like me much better anyway.”

  And with that, Lydia flounced from the room, the sound of her footsteps echoing up the stairs as she returned to her room. All three remaining sisters breathed a sigh of relief; Jane did not think she would have been able to bear her silliest and most vindictive sister that day, so it was just as well that she had left.