A few moments later found Mr. Bingley seated awkwardly in a room full of women. Mary was reading, ignoring everyone. Lydia and Kitty were uncharacteristically silent as they sat boldly inspecting his person. Elizabeth was seated beside Jane on the sofa next to his chair. Mrs. Bennet’s gaze, much in the same vein as her youngest daughters, was also fixed on him in a manner that made him want to look anywhere but at her.
For a few minutes, nobody spoke. Finally, Mr. Bingley cleared his throat and addressed Mrs. Bennet. “I hope that your family is well this morning, Mrs. Bennet.”
“You are all kindness. We are well this morning. My Jane looks especially well, does she not, sir?”
Jane blushed and shifted a quick, uneasy glance at Elizabeth. Mr. Bingley was not discomfited at all by the comment, enjoying the opportunity it gave him to rest his eyes on Jane. “Indeed, ma’am, she looks exceedingly well this morning.”
He watched with a satisfied smile as the blush spread further across her face.
“Thank you, sir,” she softly replied.
With the help of Elizabeth and Mr. Bingley, the conversation began with a pleasant recital of the previous evening’s festivities. All the ladies had compliments to give on the enjoyable evening at Netherfield. Even Mary voiced an uncharacteristically satisfied opinion of the outcome of the evening.
“I am glad that you all enjoyed yourselves. For myself, I cannot think of a more pleasant time than I spent last night.” Bingley glanced significantly at Jane.
At that moment, the door opened, and Mr. Collins entered. He made his usual officious greeting to Mr. Bingley and then took a seat next to Mary. Mr. Bingley noted with amusement the obvious preference each showed in the company of the other.
After another few moments, Mr. Bingley began to feel that his time was running short, yet he had not had the chance to speak with Jane alone. His natural modesty made him question whether Jane would accept with pleasure his request to court her. As he considered the unhappy alternative, his eyes moved to settle on her. As if sensing his gaze, she looked to him and smiled brightly in her shy way before lowering her eyes back to her hands in her lap. It was enough. He sat up and, with a happy countenance, began to speak.
“It is such a lovely day. I would like to take a walk. Perhaps Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth would care to join me?”
He eyed Jane significantly and was happy to hear her acceptance. Elizabeth, having seen the particular way he looked at her sister, knew that her own presence was not necessarily wished for, and she decided that she would find some way to allow them time alone.
Jane and Elizabeth rose to retrieve their pelisses and bonnets. Once they reached their room, Elizabeth turned to Jane and, holding both her hands, smiled knowingly.
“I know that look, Lizzy, and you must not think it.”
With pretended offense, Elizabeth responded, “Jane! I do not know what you mean!” Seeing Jane smile and shake her head, Elizabeth gave her another knowing smile.
“Lizzy!”
“Dear Jane, you know my opinion as we spoke at length of it this morning, and you shall not convince me that he is merely a friend to you.”
“I only said that I believed him to be inclined towards me, but that is hardly being in love — ”
Elizabeth’s groan interrupted her sister, and she rolled her eyes. “Yes, yes, dear, you did say that. And I said that you could not make him more in love with you if you tried.” Elizabeth gave her blushing sister a warm hug. “And furthermore, it is your luck that you are, indeed, hopelessly in love with Mr. Bingley too. At least on this point, I believe we may agree, do we not?”
Jane smiled softly at her sister. “I believe we do.”
“Well then, shall we join the gentleman downstairs?”
“We shall, indeed.” Jane’s smile widened.
The ladies descended the staircase and, upon meeting Mr. Bingley, exited the house towards the gardens.
* * *
As soon as the guest and his cousins left the morning room, Mr. Collins decided it was the right time to make a request of his hostess. He turned in his seat and, with an air of confidence that his request would be given ready approval, said, “Mrs. Bennet. I wonder if I may request the honor of a private audience with your daughter this morning.”
Mrs. Bennet could not think of happier words to have come out of Mr. Collins’s mouth in the course of his whole visit. She was so lost in the satisfied musings of her luck in the attentions of Mr. Bingley to Jane — and now Mr. Collins’s request — that she almost forgot to respond.
“Of course, Mr. Collins, you may have your audience with any of my sweet daughters.” She glanced from Lydia to Kitty, whose faces were locked in shocked amusement at their cousin’s request. She then briefly looked at her daughter Mary and dismissed the idea. Elizabeth! Of course, he must mean Elizabeth. Oh, wretched mistake, she has left with Mr. Bingley! Mrs. Bennet rose quickly and said hurriedly to Mr. Collins, “I will just go get her, sir. You will not have to wait.”
“Mrs. Bennet, I would like to speak with Miss Mary if I may.” Even as he said this, he turned his head and tilted it with a smile at Mary, who returned his look blankly.
“Mary?!” Mrs. Bennet exclaimed in obvious amazement but recovered quickly. “Of course, sir. Mary, you will stay here and hear Mr. Collins.” Not wanting to waste a single opportunity, she turned to her youngest daughters and snapped them out of their shocked state. “Lydia, Kitty — I wish to speak to you; follow me.” With giggles, the girls exited the room with their mother.
As soon as the door closed behind the ladies, Mr. Collins slid to one knee and grabbed one of Mary’s hands, causing the girl to startle at the familiarity.
He began speaking rapidly. “Miss Mary, you cannot mistake the meaning of my request to speak to you. Indeed, I am sure you are aware of the special attention I have paid you during my visit to Longbourn. Please allow me to impart to you my reasons for seeking your hand. Firstly, it is the implicit request of my noble patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, that I set the example of matrimony to the people of my parish. Indeed, her condescension is most generous. Secondly, I am convinced that marriage will bring me much happiness. And lastly, my marriage to you will resolve the distress your family feels on the subject of the entail of this estate.”
“Mr. Collins, are you asking me to marry you?” Mary asked incredulously.
“Indeed, I am, and you have made me the happiest of men!”
“You are too hasty, sir. You forget I have not given you my answer. If you please, I have some questions before I can do so.”
“Ask away, Mary, my delight, my sweet!” Mr. Collins brought her hands to his lips and squished them against her knuckles.
“Sir, what is your home like?” she asked, removing her hand from his grasp.
“My home is called Hunsford, and it is a splendid home of modest size in Kent. It is located on the edge of Lady Catherine de Bourgh’s great estate, Rosings Park.”
“And you say, sir, your income is sufficient to support a wife and children?”
“It is. As you well know, I am greatly blessed with the patronage of her ladyship, and as such, I am never without. Indeed, Lady Catherine often condescends to have me to tea or to dinner at least once a week.”
Mary thought on his answers for a moment. As she was not romantically inclined and never had any ambition to marry — indeed, she had never thought she would — she considered the prospect placed before her. It would mean her own home away from the noise of her family, who never seemed to appreciate her moral homilies. If she were to marry, she admitted to herself, the morality of a parson was most suited to her. He would probably want an heir, especially as he was to inherit Longbourn. That was not a happy prospect but she concluded she would make do. Lastly, though it did not mean much to her, she could save the entail of her family’s estate.
“I accept, sir,” she stated solemnly.
“Mary, angel of my heart, once I have gained the consent of
your father, we shall marry as soon as possible!” he exclaimed excitedly as he once again claimed her hand in his.
“How soon did you have in mind, sir?”
“A week, dear, no later. Her ladyship does not wish me to stay away longer than a fortnight. You would not want to upset her; indeed, I know you would not.”
Mary shrugged her shoulders and, once again pulling her hand from his grasp, replied, “I cannot see a reason to delay. Do as you wish, sir.” With this, she resumed possession of her book and continued reading. Mr. Collins, being too excited to sit quietly, informed her he would just ask her father’s consent and be back in her lovely presence as soon as he could. Nodding her assent, she waved him off, and he went in search of Mr. Bennet to relay the happy news.
* * *
Mr. Bennet was nursing his glass when an unwelcome knock was heard on his study door. With resignation and no small amount of distaste, he called, “Enter!”
Upon seeing Mr. Collins open the door, Mr. Bennet let out a low groan. This was going to be worse than he thought. He should not have acknowledged the knock, and now he would have to entertain the oaf. “Good morning, Mr. Collins,” he said gravely.
“Good morning to you, too, sir. It is, indeed, a good morning — a most glorious morning!”
“Indeed,” Mr. Bennet murmured with no attempt to hide his boredom.
“Sir, I have come here to speak to you on a most important matter. I have asked your daughter Mary to be my wife, and she has accepted. I come here to receive your consent and ask that we be allowed to marry at the end of the week. Lady Catherine does not wish for me to be gone long from my duties, and I wish to return to Hunsford married. Indeed, the thought of being separated from my dear Mary quite breaks my heart,” he said, dramatically placing a hand over his heart.
Mr. Bennet’s astonishment was great, and he blinked several times before the words spewing from Mr. Collins’s mouth registered in his mind. “Mr. Collins, sir, would you care to sit? Before you make haste for the church, allow me a moment to speak with you.”
Mr. Collins sat and started to open his mouth to say something when Mr. Bennet stopped him with a raised hand. “Mr. Collins, you say Mary has accepted your offer of marriage, correct?” He rubbed his head when he heard Mr. Collins’s eager acknowledgement of the fact. Before Collins could continue with descriptions of his future marital felicity, Mr. Bennet interjected, “Mr. Collins, before I give my consent, I have one question to ask you.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Mr. Collins, could you tell me why you want to marry my daughter?” He fixed his gaze at the man and held it steady; the answer was very important to him.
“You will be gratified to hear that it was at the insistence of my noble patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, that I marry. I would like to marry your daughter because I believe her ladyship will approve of Mary, and I am convinced that Mary will add to my future happiness, especially when we have her ladyship’s approval.”
Mr. Bennet hung his head as his company began to extol on the many benefits he was offering to Mary upon their marriage, most notably a long list of satisfactory opportunities to interact with the great lady at Rosings. He tuned out the officious diatribe and, with sadness, realized that at least one of his daughters was not going to marry with real love. He knew Mr. Collins did not love Mary, and he suspected his daughter did not love him. He would need to learn her feelings on the matter.
Abruptly cutting off the parson’s speech, Mr. Bennet said, “I give my consent sir. Now be off with you.”
Mr. Collins had not noticed the harsh tone or the clear incivility directed towards him, and he eagerly bowed and exited the room, excited to relay the news to the rest of the family.
* * *
Mr. Bingley offered an arm to each of the ladies as they entered the garden. There was a slight breeze, but the air was unusually warm for early December. It was so pleasant just to be outside, that for a few minutes nobody in the party spoke. Mr. Bingley stole sly glances at Jane, who was enjoying the feel of his soft coat under her hand.
“You have a very pleasant space here.” Mr. Bingley spoke as if to either of the ladies, but Elizabeth saw that his eyes flicked to Jane.
“Thank you, Mr. Bingley. I have often admired the gardens at Netherfield Park, as well, sir. They are quite extensive,” Jane replied.
He led them to a small copse of trees, and Elizabeth released his arm, feigning an interest in some wild ferns at the base of a tree. “I believe you said you were from the north, Mr. Bingley?”
“That is correct, Miss Elizabeth. My family is from Scarborough. I have an aunt there still.”
“It can be very cold there, can it not?” Jane offered.
This was what Elizabeth had hoped to do, introduce a topic of conversation comfortable for both. She knew Jane found everything about Mr. Bingley interesting, and she figured he would be comfortable discussing something familiar to him. She continued her interest in the ferns as she listened to them continue the conversation.
“The winters are not as mild as they are in Hertfordshire, to be sure. While I enjoyed living there until I went off to school, I find the entertainments of London and the country delights that can be found in Hertfordshire more to my liking.” He spoke with a significant glance towards Jane.
Elizabeth turned towards her sister and, with feigned innocence, said, “Mr. Bingley, Jane, I beg you will excuse me. This is such lovely wild lavender, and it is the last of the season. I cannot let it be wasted; I will just take it to the house to be dried.”
Jane glared at her sister’s obvious excuse and made as if to return to the house too, but Elizabeth forestalled her. “No, Jane, Mr. Bingley, I shan’t be long. Do continue your walk, and I will join you again shortly.” She smiled sweetly at Jane and curtsied to Bingley before either could protest. Jane shook her head slightly at the mischief in her sister’s eyes.
Thank you, Miss Elizabeth! Mr. Bingley silently appreciated this easy solution for getting a moment alone with Jane. They both watched Elizabeth’s retreat before turning towards each other.
Mr. Bingley offered his arm. “Shall we continue, then, Miss Bennet?”
“I would like that, thank you.” She slipped her gloved hand onto his arm.
Mr. Bingley had anticipated the soft pressure of her hand and smiled when he felt it. He loved that she was so delicate and feminine. In a moment of boldness, he turned towards her with a tender smile as his other hand came up to cover hers. His smile spread as he watched her cheeks blush and the corners of her mouth come up in a small smile.
“Miss Bennet, I have something I had hoped to discuss with you today.” His voice was low and so close to her ear that she felt a shiver as it moved the soft curls near her temple.
For a brief moment, Jane felt a little faint and had to swallow before asking, “And what is it you wished to discuss, sir?”
“Well, Miss Bennet, I thought to tell you that I believe you have an admirer.” He held his breath for her reaction. His wait was short as he saw her smile broadly and chanced a glance up to him before replying.
“Indeed, sir? I did not know that. Pray, tell me, who might this admirer be?”
My, what a sweet little temptress you are, Jane! “He is an acquaintance of yours and has told me that he has come to find your company most pleasing.”
“Is that so?” She bit her lip at their charade.
Mr. Bingley’s smile grew even wider as he leaned closer and, with a low voice, responded, “Indeed. In fact, I believe he finds your company more pleasing than any other lady of his acquaintance.” He paused to gauge her reaction and happily continued when she looked at him with amusement. “I am certain your admirer has come to believe you are the most beautiful creature he has ever seen.”
Jane’s breath hitched as she listened to his pleasant overtures. For a moment, she could do nothing but nod slightly in recognition of them. Mr. Bingley brought them to a stop at a stone bench and helped her to sit
before placing himself next to her.
“Do you think you could consent to a courtship with the gentleman?” Mr. Bingley looked at her intently in anticipation of her answer.
The happiness that then filled Jane’s heart was beyond what she could have imagined. She looked into his blue eyes and saw a sweetness there that melted her heart. She turned her face away in shyness at the raw feeling exposed in his gaze.
With a slight smile, she teased, “I am sorry, sir. I cannot enter into a courtship with this admirer.” When she saw the color drain from his face, she hastened to continue, “For I could not consent to a courtship with any other gentleman than yourself, sir, as my feelings are quite fixed on the matter.”
Mr. Bingley felt like pulling her into his arms and placing light kisses all over her face. He was elated at her words and smiled brightly as he said, with a laugh, “Well then, Miss Bennet, it so happens that I see no cause to object to your reasoning.” He paused and locked his eyes with hers before saying tenderly, “Miss Bennet, would you consent to allow me to court you?”
“I would like that very much, Mr. Bingley,” she responded shyly.
Mr. Bingley reached for her hand and relished in the freedom to do so. “You have made me very happy, Jane.”
Jane had long imagined the sound of her name coming from his lips; to hear it brought contentment to her heart. The sound replayed over and over in her mind with an exquisite echo. It was not strictly proper for him to use her Christian name as they were not engaged, only courting, but she would not protest.
They spoke softly to each other for a few minutes longer before Jane suggested that they should return to the house. As they began walking, Elizabeth came into view, and Mr. Bingley leaned close to Jane’s ear to whisper, “I will go and ask your father’s consent now.” When she nodded, he smiled and walked directly towards the house.
Elizabeth smiled as she saw the exchange and waited until he was out of hearing before turning to her sister. “Well, Jane?”
“Oh, Lizzy, how can it be possible to feel so much joy?”
Falling for Mr. Darcy Page 13
