Implacable Resentment

by Jann Rowland

  “Miss Lucas, would you mind very much if I was to steal your conversation partner away for a few moments? I promise we shall return before our dance together.”

  Though she appeared surprised, Miss Lucas was not bereft of sense, and she immediately seemed to understand his purpose. She was also discreet enough to keep her composure and not voice any such thoughts. Her response was an amiable:

  “Of course, Mr. Bingley. I need to speak with my mother anyway.”

  With a nod, Bingley led Miss Bennet away, confident that Miss Lucas would keep the particulars of his request from common gossip. As there was a balcony nearby, Bingley led his love there, and they slipped out into the chill of the night.

  Having achieved his objective, Bingley turned to regard Miss Bennet, noting how her countenance shone in the light of the moon and how her hair appeared to almost give off a soft glow of its own. She was luminous and beautiful, her outer beauty only matched by the beauties of her soul. And she was calling out to him in that moment in a manner which he fancied only he could interpret. She truly was his destiny.

  “Miss Bennet, I find that I cannot go any longer without baring the contents of my heart. But though I have never been more certain of anything than I am of my feelings for you, I wish to be sensitive of your desires. May I continue?”

  Though the light was scarce, Bingley was certain he could see tears glistening in her eyes as she nodded shyly and waited. Bingley had never had any doubt that she would welcome his addresses, but in that moment, a feeling of peace such as he had never felt before welled up within him, and he stepped forward and grasped her hand, bringing it up to his lips.

  “You are a jewel among women, Miss Bennet, and I am exceedingly fortunate to have found you. Your light, your goodness, your kindness; all of these thing shine and echo within my heart, bearing witness to me that your equal simply does not exist. I will never be more grateful for anything, than I am for the decision to lease Netherfield, as it led me to you.”

  Bingley smiled at her, lifting her chin so that she faced him, noting the tears of joy which streamed down her cheeks. “I would be most happy if you would consent to be my wife, Miss Bennet, and join me in happiness for the rest of our days. Will you marry me?”

  “Nothing would make me happier,” said Jane in a tremulous whisper. “For I love you so very dearly.”

  Taking advantage of their newly acknowledged state, Bingley drew her to him and settled her against his breast next to his heart. This was where she belonged, and he would never allow her to leave.

  Jane could hardly believe her good fortune. The man she was not so secretly in love with had proposed, and she was to be married!

  But thoughts of joy were tempered by the knowledge of what her mother’s reaction would be should the engagement be announced at the ball. Of course, it could not be announced yet, as Mr. Bingley would have to approach her father to make it official, but that would not deter her mother. Though it was distasteful to hide it, Jane knew that for her own peace of mind, they would need to keep it between themselves.

  “We should return to the ballroom before we are missed,” said Mr. Bingley into the quiet.

  Jane smiled and drew away from him, gazing upon him happily.

  “I shall approach your father for his permission.” He turned a stern gaze on her which she knew instinctively was not actually directed at her. “Your father will not oppose our match, will he?”

  “I doubt it very much, Mr. Bingley,” said Jane. “What happened with Elizabeth was obviously an aberration. It shall not be repeated.”

  “That is good,” replied he, “though it would not make a jot of difference to me. I shall take you to Gretna Green if necessary.”

  A thrill ran through her at his pronouncement, but Jane assured him that it would not be necessary in this instance. She then paused and addressed her concerns.

  “If you are willing, I would like to keep our engagement between ourselves for now.”

  Mr. Bingley looked at her intently before nodding. “You fear your parents’ reactions?”

  “Primarily my mother’s,” said Jane with a grimace. “We shall not have any peace once she knows, as she will crow before the neighborhood unceasingly.”

  “Your wish is of course my command. I can wait a few days, though I must own that I am anticipating a little proclaiming of my own!”

  Jane blushed, and she agreed with a shy smile. Mr. Bingley raised her hands to his lips again and then escorted her back into the ballroom. It appeared that their short absence had gone all but unnoticed, as their return did not garner the attention she had feared it would. But while they did not receive the notice she had feared, her mother, speaking loudly with some of the local matrons on the far side of the room, caught her eye before they had taken two steps into the room.

  And it was settled in Jane’s mind. Their future did not include Netherfield, as it was far too close to Longbourn for Jane’s peace of mind. She was certain Mr. Bingley would be amenable to looking for an estate in some district far from Meryton. Truly, it was possible for a woman to be settled too near to her family, and for Jane, anything closer than several days’ travel by carriage was too near indeed.

  Chapter XXI

  Three days after his departure from Rosings, Mr. Darcy returned.

  For Elizabeth, those three days had been an exercise in patience, and she now fancied that she possessed that particular virtue to a great degree. Mr. Collins was his typical verbose self, and he seemed particularly attentive in those days, even to the point where it became difficult for Elizabeth to escape to the peace and solitude of her walks. She finally managed it on the third day, but her escape had been a close one—she could not have abided his presence any longer without lashing out at him.

  As they had promised, Mr. Darcy’s cousins visited frequently, and their visits helped to form a sort of barrier between Elizabeth and her so-called husband. Colonel Fitzwilliam was particularly masterful, engaging Mr. Collins in conversation, with tales of his exploits being prominent in their discourse. And if Mr. Collins was not interested in stories about the engagements in which the colonel had fought or in his accounts of his duties and the foibles of his general, he was not about to offend the nephew of his patroness by professing a disinclination for his company.

  But the true revelation was Anne de Bourgh. Elizabeth had not been certain what to make of the young woman. On the one hand, Elizabeth had Mr. Collins’s description of her, though she knew not to give full weight to the man’s praise. Her own observations, however, had told her that the woman would likely be aloof. To find her to be a pleasant, though somewhat shy, woman in desperate need of a friend was a welcome surprise. Given enough time and opportunity, Elizabeth thought they could be quite close friends indeed.

  The second day after Mr. Darcy’s departure, when Miss de Bourgh and the colonel were visiting, the subject of Elizabeth’s enforced marriage and her life in London had arisen, and Elizabeth had surprised herself by relating to Miss de Bourgh the pertinent events which had led to her living with her aunt and uncle. While she could not have imagined sharing the events with someone who was, after all, a virtual stranger, sharing it with another woman turned out to be an incredibly cathartic experience.

  “Your parents are contemptible,” was Anne’s blunt reply once Elizabeth had finished speaking. “To blame everything on a child of two is completely beyond the pale, and you should give no credence whatsoever to anything they say.”

  Caught as she was between the emotion of the moment and Anne’s rather blunt statement, Elizabeth did not know whether to laugh or cry. “It took me some time to come to that conclusion,” replied Elizabeth after a moment of regaining her composure. “It was difficult as a child.”

  “That is to be expected,” said Anne. “But you are intelligent enough to see it now, so I would advise you to give it no thought in the future. Allow your parents to wallow in bitterness.”

  The talk turned to Anne’s situation
with her mother, and though Anne was not nearly as explicit as Elizabeth had been, still she shared some of her past and her feelings about a mother who attempted to dominate every facet of her life.

  “I would not have you believe that I dislike my mother,” said Anne at one point. “She has cared for me for more years than I can count, and there were many periods where I was very ill indeed. She has not the ability to show her love in an affectionate manner, but I have always been aware of her love for me. In fact, her love is part of why she has always been so insistent about this ridiculous engagement which she speaks of so frequently. In her mind, she believes that marriage to Mr. Darcy is the best thing for me, and she will not be moved from that opinion.”

  Elizabeth cocked her head sideways in amusement, her curiosity overcoming her amusement. “Were you never tempted by your cousin?”

  “There were times as a young girl I might have indulged in a fantasy or two,” said Anne. “But as I became older, I came to realize that we are poorly suited. Darcy and I would not make a good couple.”

  Elizabeth rather suspected that Anne was actually far more interested in her other cousin, the colonel, even if the woman did not realize it herself. Their camaraderie was clear for all to see, and they teased each other and spoke with great animation when together. The colonel’s affections were less visible, as he was agreeable to all, but Elizabeth felt that he could be nudged along to a greater affection for Anne given the right circumstances.

  Of course, she made no mention of this to either of the two principals. Not only did she not know them well enough to state such a thing, but Elizabeth was no matchmaker. It would be better for them to come together due to their own efforts rather than have another meddle in their affairs. They experienced enough meddling from Lady Catherine!

  Before Mr. Darcy’s actual appearance, the parsonage was graced with another visitor—and one who Mr. Collins apparently knew well.

  “Mr. Forbes!” cried he when the visitor was announced. “I had no notice of your coming, or I should have ensure that you were greeted with all the pomp which is your due as my superior.”

  It was with a congenial smile and an unaffected manner that Mr. Forbes responded: “That is quite unnecessary, I assure you, Mr. Collins. We are all God’s servants, are we not?”

  While Mr. Collins hastened to assure the man that he agreed without reservation, Elizabeth watched the scene and was able to take her first impression of the man. Mr. Forbes was a slight and rather diminutive man, possessed of a kindly face with piercing blue eyes set within. He also carried himself with an air of confidence, his demeanor defying his rather small size. He was not much older than Mr. Collins, Elizabeth deduced, as his hair was rather thick and brown and lacking in any gray, from what she could see.

  “Perhaps you should introduce me to your lovely wife?” prompted Mr. Forbes when Mr. Collins’s effusions went on for several minutes.

  “Yes, of course!” cried Mr. Collins. “How thoughtless of me! Come here, my dear,” continued he, extending a hand out to Elizabeth.

  Though she would by no means have allowed Mr. Collins any supposed authority over her, Elizabeth decided that it was best to observe convention and avoid offending Mr. Forbes, who at this moment held her fate in his hands. Thus, she moved and rested her hand as lightly as she dared on Mr. Collins’s arm.

  “Mr. Forbes, please allow me to introduce my lovely wife, Elizabeth Collins. Elizabeth, this is Reverend Forbes, an acquaintance from my days at the seminary and now my direct superior in the church.”

  Elizabeth curtseyed in response to the bow offered by the gentlemen, and she looked up at him with hope shining in her eyes. She fancied that he did not miss it, given the quelling look he gave her.

  “Enchanted, madam,” was all he said.

  They sat in the parlor for some time, and Elizabeth ordered a tea service, content that the man was finally here and that she might finally be nearing an end of her time in purgatory. Mr. Forbes was all that was gentlemanly—he was kind and attentive and possessed a well of patience which was required any time one was in close company with Mr. Collins. They spoke of little of substance, confining their conversation mostly to Mr. Forbes’s journey to Hunsford and the fineness of the weather this late in the season.

  “Should I have had word of your coming, I would have planned my day accordingly,” said Mr. Collins. His slight fretting did not go unnoticed. “As it is, I must depart soon to the village.”

  “But God’s work is more important than visiting and drinking tea, is it not, Mr. Collins?”

  Mr. Collins made a face that Elizabeth fancied was a wish that he was at leisure to indulge in further fawning on the man, but his answer was all agreement. “It certainly is, Mr. Forbes. It is merely that we meet infrequently and that I believe I would benefit further from the wisdom you bring.”

  “I shall be here when you return, Mr. Collins.” He turned and smiled at Elizabeth. “In fact, if it is not too much trouble, I believe that I will stay the night and depart on the morrow.”

  The rapturous agreement of Mr. Collins was almost comical, as he praised his superior and insisted that it was no trouble whatsoever. For her part, Elizabeth simply agreed quietly, certain that Mr. Forbes would use the time to speak with her while Mr. Collins was away. As it coincided with her own desires quite well indeed, she could have no objection.

  “Then perhaps you should go about your business, Mr. Collins. I am certain your wife will be able to entertain me during your absence.”

  “Indeed, she will, for she is ever so obliging and well-versed in all the social graces. I will leave you in her capable hands so that I may return as soon as may be.”

  Once Mr. Collins had departed, Mr. Forbes turned his gaze upon her, and though he was not harsh, his expression contained a little more severity than she would have wished. He appraised her in silence for a few moments before he spoke, and if he was sharper than she expected, he was also kind and considerate of her feelings.

  “I must say that I was shocked to hear Mr. Darcy’s account of how you came to be in Kent, Mrs. Collins. Perhaps you should explain to me why you wish to effect an annulment.”

  Elizabeth thought it prudent to be cautious. “What did Mr. Darcy tell you?”

  “Please indulge me by telling me in your own words what has happened,” replied he. Then, in a conciliatory tone, he continued: “I ask you answer me not as a means of discovering any discrepancies between your account and what Mr. Darcy has already told me, but because I wish to understand your feelings.”

  Chewing her lip, Elizabeth thought over the man’s words and decided she had no choice. After taking a deep breath, she began to speak, telling him of the circumstances which had led her to Kent. She did not go into her past with her family and the reasons for it—that she would not tell another soul if she could help it—but she touched on the years she spent with her aunt and uncle, the events which had led to her return to Meryton, the arrival of Mr. Collins, and the forceful insistence of her father that she be married. When she had finished, Mr. Forbes looked at her with some compassion.

  “You have told me a great deal more than Mr. Darcy did. I will assume that this is because he did not live these events as you did.

  “However, I am also certain that you have not told me everything, though I suppose most of it is not relevant to the subject at hand. Regardless of how you became estranged with your family, the fact of the matter is that you were and that your relationships with your parents were such that your wishes in the matter were not taken into account.

  “Now,” he said after a brief pause, “I am certain you are aware that a father has authority over a child until that child reaches the age of majority?”

  “I am aware of that.”

  “The authority vested in a father includes that of making an alliance the father deems fit. I am certain that as a member of the gentry, you have heard of marriages which were arranged between parents. However, dragging a daughter to th
e altar and forcing her against her will is not something the church will tolerate in a general sense. And even more so, the marriage of two persons without the banns having been properly read is a breach of our ecclesiastical law. These are two serious concerns. Is there anything else you can think of which would potentially make this marriage invalid?”

  Elizabeth nodded. “I did not properly sign the register.”

  His interest piqued, Mr. Forbes looked at her askance. “That is quite unusual. Normally, a rector would not allow the newly married to depart without signing the register. Furthermore, I would have thought your father would have seen to it, given how much trouble he went to in order to bring this about.”

  “I did sign it,” said Elizabeth. “My father threatened me with retribution if I did not. But what he did not realize is that I did not sign it with my name.”

  “You deliberately signed the wrong name?” asked Mr. Forbes.

  “I did,” said Elizabeth, holding herself straight and proud.

  The chuckle which met her statement was not at all expected, but it was welcome nonetheless.

  “It appears that you did whatever you could to avoid this fate your father chose for you. Though I am not happy to see God’s laws flouted in such a manner, I applaud you for your determination, Mrs. Collins. You are clearly a lady of much character and intelligence.”

  The moment was broken, however, when Mr. Forbes once again regarded her with a seriousness which could not be feigned.

  “I must ask, Mrs. Collins—are you certain you wish to have your marriage annulled? It is not an easy thing to grant, and if you obtain your desire, it may have adverse effects on your future. Many who receive annulments become social outcasts, as I am certain you know.”

  “I do wish for it,” replied Elizabeth. Though she had intended to keep her composure, the carefully constructed wall she had erected since leaving London began to break apart, and she felt herself falling prey to her emotions. “I know it is not generous to speak of a person in less complimentary terms, but I can hardly think of anyone less suited to be my husband than William Collins.