Refusing Mr Collins

by Carrie Mollenkopf

  Elizabeth, having never tasted coffee, gingerly sipped her own cup, wrinkling her nose in distaste.

  “It smells far different than it tastes. I must agree with Mr. Darcy. Tea is more to my liking.” she admitted and placed her nearly full cup aside.

  This casual disregard was met by a horrified look of censure from Mr. Collins. How dare a guest in his house refuse the hospitality placed before them. Grimacing an apology to Lady Catherine, his irritation grew when she agreed with Miss Bennet.

  “I too, quite detest the stuff. Tea is far more civilized, but the coffee was a gift from an acquaintance and currently all the rage… or so I am told… Mr. Collins… if you like it so well, I insist you take the lot home with you,” Lady Catherine offered as she signaled a footman to refill his cup.

  “Most generous, I will not waste a single drop… it should not go to waste. We do know how to economize at the vicarage.”

  “Indeed, I have seen it for myself, but life cannot be all denial, nor should they be forced to accept something distasteful. A person must give in to indulgences upon occasion.” Elizabeth said.

  “Perhaps when one is accustomed to luxury, that is so, but only when finances are certain. Life can change in a moment and all is lost. It is best to be prepared, and not refuse what is so freely given,” Mr. Collins retorted with an air of superiority that was all to obvious for the company present. Darcy, feeling that the little man had deliberately intended to remind Miss Bennet of his inheritance that would turn her into a pauper, became defensive.

  “Unfortunately, not all persons have the freedom to pursue the making of their own fortune. Oftentimes it is the reliance upon inheritance that allows for any freedom at all. But, surely, you were not speaking of such serious subjects?”

  Embarrassed, Mr. Collins, colored deeply, his resentment of Elizabeth growing.Looking down at his cooling coffee, Mr. Collins only shook his head in denial, allowing for a more pleasant shift in conversation. But, tomorrow, he would insist that Elizabeth Bennet returned home.

  ~34~

  Despite Mr. Collins’ desire to be rid of Elizabeth, the following day was to become one that would alter his life forever, changing his opinions in ways he had not believed possible. The morning arrived without the usual bustle of Charlotte about the kitchen, occupied with the mundane task of preparing breakfast. Having formerly believed her future to be one of caring for others, she had developed a fine talent for the culinary arts. However, when Elizabeth rose for the day, the house was strangely silent. Although, only a guest for a very short time, Elizabeth knew that the Collins household ran on a regular schedule. But, with the lateness of the hour in which they had departed Rosings the previous evening, and the newlywed status of her hosts, an occasional late rising was not out of order. Out of a lifetime of habit, Elizabeth was never one to lie abed. Instead, she had relished the temporary peace of a house filled with women. Deciding to try her hand at cooking, she was pleased to be able to create a passable assortment of scrambled eggs and bacon. This alongside a steaming pot of tea and some toast, Elizabeth felt accomplished with her efforts and loaded a tray. The dining room, situated near the main parlor, required she traverse Charlotte’s private sitting room each time. It was quiet and dark, the morning sun just breaking through weak clouds to brighten the chamber. As a result, it was necessary to carefully navigate the myriad of furnishings and personal items to prevent bumping into anything.

  “Charlotte, you really have gotten rather messy!” Elizabeth spoke aloud after her last food laden journey. With the meal placed in a warmer, she took advantage of the time to tidy up the chamber. While Charlotte had done her best to provide the warmest of welcomes, she did appear a bit tired. Was the strain of tolerating a man such as Mr. Collins too much? Elizabeth knew that she would never have that level of patience… or control of her temper, but Charlotte was a rare person. Now, as she carefully wound embroidery thread and balls of yarn, Elizabeth pondered her own future. Her feelings toward Mr. Darcy had lain buried without his constant presence, but after seeing him again, her heart fluttered at the prospect of renewal. Was it possible that he felt something for her? The entire previous evening, she had known his eyes had traveled to her person. Would it be to forward to call upon his sister or Miss de Bourgh in the hopes of encountering him again?

  “Now you sound like your mother!” Elizabeth admitted to the stillness and imagined it laughing in return.

  The prospect of becoming marriage driven was dismal, especially when she could not imagine a life with any other man. Now, after meeting his family, she completely understood his misgivings. His world was very different from her own, it was cold and lonely, and filled with the demands of tradition and responsibility. In an odd way, she had more freedom than he. Distracted by her musings, Elizabeth stacked books, placing paper markers where they had been abandoned to open pages. It was only when she dropped a particularly large tome that she noticed a common theme between the volumes. Every book had something to do with medicine. A trill of fear rushed through her being. Was Charlotte ill? Elizabeth could not bear the thought of losing her closest friend. Placing the books into two piles, she found the ancient leather-bound family herbal buried at the bottom. Its cover had bent under the weight of the rest and Elizabeth pressed her fingers along the spine to restore the shape. It was in this caressing motion that the angry voice of Mr. Collins disrupted her ministrations, snatching the fragile book from her fingers.

  “What is this? More of your devil’s magic? It is no wonder that my Charlotte is poorly. Have you done something to her?”

  “I… What? What are you speaking of? I would never harm Charlotte; she is my dearest friend!”

  “Oh, you cannot fool me again. I know evil when I see it, that posset… and the horse…all your doing! It must be jealousy that fuels your heart. A woman must learn to bear rejection from men… especially one in your position!”

  “Mr. Collins! You must have taken leave of your senses!”

  “No! I have finally come to them! And to think that at one time, when bewitched by your wiles… I actually considered you!”

  “You are impossible!”

  The volume of their voices had risen and Elizabeth was trembling in anger, but it was the sight of Charlotte, pale and wan, holding a hand to her mouth that finally silenced them both. Neither had realized that their exchange had been witnessed. Swallowing hard, Charlotte mustered her strength and entered the chamber like a soldier going off to war. Taking the item of disagreement from her husband’s hands, she tucked the book into her wrapper pocket and forced a wry smile.

  “Elizabeth, if you please, I should like a private word with my husband. It appears that he is in need of some clarity.”

  Worried to leave Charlotte alone, Elizabeth hesitated, but Charlotte’s voice was that of an ordering general.

  “Of course, a morning walk will do wonders to clear my mind. Breakfast is waiting, all your favorites,” Elizabeth replied and quickly left the chamber, grabbing a shawl on her way out the back door. Elizabeth had never seen Charlotte so, and feared for Mr. Collins, but she would not interfere unless invited. For now, she would mind her own.

  ~35~

  The female residents of Rosings, oblivious to the distress taking place at the vicarage, enjoyed a leisurely breakfast with the topic of discussion being that of Elizabeth Bennet and how suitable she was for a certain unmarried man of their immediate relation. Darcy, being that particular man, tried to bear the orchestration of his future without appearing that he was in total agreement. Focusing his attentions upon his plate, he attempted to ignore the mix of playful banter and logical argument, but it was proving difficult.

  “It is clear that you adore her, and I find her completely charming. Your letters hardly did her justice, why can’t you marry someone like her?” Georgiana Darcy suggested honestly.

  “Indeed, she has spirit, and that is what Pemberley needs, not some spoilt society miss who thinks above her station.” Lady Cather
ine added, waving a dripping spoon in his direction.

  Even Anne and Timothy took time to break away from their mutual infatuation to agree wholeheartedly.

  “You are perfect for each other. That other girl… what was her name? Caroline? She was horrid,” Anne said as she traced a finger along the back of her fiancé’s arm before Timothy added, “Miss Bennet is the one for you, and you are a fool not to ask for her hand.”

  “I have… she refused,” he replied flatly. Darcy knew he could not remain silent forever, nor could he fight against the entirety of his family. Even the newcomer was in agreement. Was it so obvious? Embarrassment threatened to flood his features, requiring a number of deep breaths to quell the rising flush of his face.

  “She what?” Lady Catherine demanded, laying down her utensil and pushing away her plate. Appetite had instantly abandoned her with the idiocy of such an idea.

  “She refused… I wanted her to know the difficulties we would face, but it came out all wrong. I fear that I insulted her… and her family.”

  “Oh dear…” Anne muttered, tightening her grip on Timothy, causing him to wince as his future mother-in-law turned a shade of purple.

  “So what? Whose family is perfect? I insist you set things straight, and if she refuses you then…well, then she is a fool and not worthy of you,” Lady Catherine ordered.

  “Just go to her…” Georgiana added softly.

  Sighing, Darcy rose, put down his napkin and bowed to the company, begging their excusal. He needed some time alone to think. Let everyone believe he was doing as they wished. At least he would have some peace.

  *****

  Elizabeth, happy to escape what she knew would be a terrible scene, chuckled softly as she headed for the wooded area that surrounded Rosings. Having been dear friends with Charlotte as long as she could remember, there were private things about the new Mrs. Collins that only she knew. Always giving the appearance of demure compliance, Charlotte managed to fool a great many people. Elizabeth knew she dabbled in folk medicine and even what some would consider witchcraft. In reality, the remedies and charms were harmless, unless the affected person was superstitious or simply stupid. Unfortunately, Charlotte had married one of the most stupid men on Earth. Had she been born beautiful, or even passably attractive, things might have been different. But being a plain child, and even plainer woman, her parents had not bothered to invest in her future. It was expected that Charlotte would be the maiden aunt, forced to serve her brother’s family. As a result of their lack of attention, Charlotte had resorted to other means of self-satisfaction.

  “Much like poor Mary, but at least no one is pushing every eligible man upon them,” she said aloud to the twittering of birds in the trees.

  “It can be so for men as well,”

  Elizabeth spun around, broken from her thoughts by the familiar male voice. At first, she did not see Darcy, then he emerged from behind a clump of brambles that had wound their way through the trees, forming a natural briar fence.

  “Spying on me?”

  “Indeed, and it is a sight to which I can never tire,” he admitted honestly, gauging her features for any sign of rejection, but Elizabeth only smiled.

  “What did you mean by men too?”

  “Ladies are not alone in being paraded before others with the expectation of marriage. Men are weighed and measured with equal cruelty. Fortune and family connections are often foremost. My own relations have tried repeatedly to escape such censure. As you have now met the lot, are they not just as flawed as the rest of humanity? Aunt Catherine is overbearing and bossy on the outside, but sad and lonely inside. Yet, her station denies her the ability to seek remarriage for affection. My sister, falls prey to endless fortune hunters who care not a whit for her aside from monetary gain. She may never feel sure enough in anyone’s affections to marry. Only Anne has been fortunate to find a man that matches her perfectly. Their children will be gangly, and painfully awkward, but at least they will be happy.”

  Elizabeth pondered this brutal honesty. All too often lately, she had thought about what it meant to be free in one’s choices. Before, she had only hoped for a comfortable life with a person whom she could respect and grow to hold affection. Darcy had changed that. Now she wanted love above all, and it was not something that money could provide. Looking up into his face, she studied him closely. She had been a fool to refuse him, and her heartache was a constant reminder.

  “I have been a stupid, selfish and misguided person,” she whispered.

  “No… you only spoke your mind…. but if I may dare…has your opinion of me changed? Even the slightest?”

  “Oh! My opinions were based upon my own stubborn pride. I find my feelings are quite reversed…”

  “Then I will ask you one last time…and if you refuse, bother you no more. Will you? Will you be my wife?”

  “It would be my heart’s desire.”

  ~36~

  Two hours later, an exhausted but deliriously happy Elizabeth Bennet returned to the vicarage. Upon her acceptance of his offer, she had accompanied Darcy back to Rosings to share the news of their engagement. The disagreement between the Collins’ completely forgotten. It was only with the mention of her return to Meryton that it came rushing back.

  “I suppose I shall be going quite soon, but I will not leave Charlotte behind if she is in any way unhappy.”

  Having relayed the details of the incident to not only Darcy, but also Lady Catherine, Elizabeth was pleased to realized that the dowager was completely cognizant of their situation.

  “Oh, I know what he is… don’t worry about that. Mrs. Collins will be perfectly safe. If I had been informed of the shenanigans, he tried in Meryton I would have sacked him immediately along with a stern letter to his bishop. He is well aware that livings such as Rosings are hard to acquire. Witchcraft! What drivel! Why my nephew chose to keep it from me, I have yet to comprehend, but he took care of it.”

  “It is not Charlotte’s safety that concerns me, it is her happiness,” Elizabeth insisted.

  “Any possibility of true happiness disappeared when she chose to accept Mr. Collins, but I believe that Charlotte has a different definition of happiness than you or I,” Lady Catherine insisted.

  To this, Elizabeth had to give credence, but while Charlotte was far more tolerant than she ever could hope to be, she would not see her miserable.

  “Oh, don’t worry, if he ever lays a hand upon her, I shall see him reassigned to Borneo or some such place. Alone of course, with his salary to his wife.”

  Relieved, Elizabeth’s countenance returned to a more pleasant expression as her mind danced with excitement. If Charlotte was in no danger, she would return home immediately. Jane’s wedding was in less than a fortnight and then she would be free to plan her own, but if not, plans would need to be made to remove Charlotte from Rosings.

  “I must go to the vicarage. They will be wondering what has become of me.”

  “I shall accompany you,” Darcy insisted.

  He was not ready to be separated from Elizabeth again and knew that his presence would calm her fears. However, upon their arrival, a scene of domestic serenity had replaced the former turmoil. Mr. and Mr. Collins appeared to be enjoying a leisurely breakfast, a doting husband catering to his wife’s every desire.

  “Oh, there you are Cousin Elizabeth…. And Mr. Darcy. How nice of you to join us. We were growing quite worried and that is not good for my Charlotte.”

  “Now dear, I am not an invalid, but perhaps you would like to share our happy news?”

  “May I?”

  “Of course, after all, it is half your doing.”

  Mr. Collins blushed a deep crimson and took a moment to clear his throat before speaking as Elizabeth and Darcy exchanged puzzled glances. Whatever transgressed in her absence had clearly resulted in some sort of mutual agreement.

  “We… that is…I mean to say… Charlotte is to have a baby!”

  “My sincerest congratulations,�
�� Darcy said genuinely, but remained as confused as Elizabeth, watching as she embraced her friend. Charlotte only replied with a smile, directing her speech to her husband.

  “Dear… have you forgotten the time?”

  “Oh! I shall be late! Do excuse me Cousin! Mr. Darcy! I have an engagement to arrange a baptism!” Mr. Collins cried and dared to kiss his wife’s cheek before rushing from the cottage.

  Now alone, Charlotte dropped her pretense and smiled wryly at Elizabeth and Darcy.

  “As you can see, we have reached an agreement…. or shall I say, Mr. Collins has accepted his fate.”

  “Whatever did you say to him?”

  “Besides the child? Oh, just a bit of this and that…and a threat or two. It would be very embarrassing for anyone to discover that a respectable vicar had married a witch. Would it not?”

  “Oh Charlotte! You didn’t!”

  “Indeed, I did. Besides, I think the silly man was actually quite pleased that I went to such a fuss to secure him. I do not expect any more trouble.”

  Relieved, Elizabeth announced her own news, but insisted it be kept secret.

  “Just for now. I want Jane and Charles to have their day… and then there is Anne and Timothy. We may have to wait a bit, but afterwards, everyday shall be ours.”

  “I wish you both the best, but remember Mr. Darcy…. Should you ever step out of line, you will have me to answer to.”

  Darcy smiled, still not entirely believing Charlotte’s revelation, but daring not to contradict.

  “You have my promise. I intend to spend the rest of my days making Elizabeth happy, for she is my happiness.”

  Epilogue

  One year later….

  Elizabeth Bennet Darcy scanned the pile of congratulatory correspondence sorting it into stacks according to name and location. In the short time since her marriage, it seemed that the amount of post never decreased. But at least the round of social engagements had lessened with the return to Pemberley after a three-month wedding trip abroad to Italy. A whirlwind romance, that was what the papers had called the marriage of Fitzwilliam Darcy to Elizabeth Bennet. More fairytale than truth, but Elizabeth was blissfully happy despite the drastic change to her normally mundane life. So many new acquaintances had been made that it was difficult to keep the names straight. It was only when she saw the familiar script of her dearest friend that she paused. The heavy lettering of Charlotte’s name was not what caused the quiver of apprehension that now surged in her abdomen, it was the return address. Lucas Lodge… why did Charlotte write to her from her childhood home. Had Charlotte left Mr. Collins? Peering at the post mark before breaking the seal, Elizabeth noticed the date stamp, it was nearly three weeks ago. In that time, she and Darcy had visited Rosings Park, but the Collins’ had been away, visiting a distant relation of the vicar. There had been no mention of any discord to cause their removal. Feeling foolish, Elizabeth tried unsuccessfully to disregard her unease. Perhaps Charlotte was simply visiting her parents? Surely, they would want to see their grandson? The arrival of her child had been excellent news for both the Collins and Bennet families. With the birth of young Martin Collins, Longbourn was now secure for another generation. It would not go to complete strangers upon the death of Elizabeth’s father. Relaxing, she flattened the single sheet, but gasped as the shocking nature of the contents revealed a suspicion she had held since the day she left Rosings with Darcy.