In a Prudential Light, Chapters 4 & 5

Chapter Four

“I summoned you here today, Mr. Collins, because I think it a wise thing for you to take on a curate at Hunsford.”

Her ladyship summoned Mr. Collins to Rosings most every day, to discuss one crucial parish matter or another. On this particular Tuesday, they were seated in her Ladyship’s morning room, and had been discussing at length, or rather Lady Catherine had been discussing at length, changes she would like to see effected in the near future. Mr. Collins was only too eager to hear his patroness.

“Indeed, your ladyship, I had begun to contemplate the wisdom of such an action myself —”

“You must choose a sensible young man, one who understands his place and does not have any modern ideas of his own. Someone useful and obliging, who appreciates the significance of our little sphere and is eager to do his duty.”

“Naturally, your ladyship, such a man would be my only selection for such a post —”

“I am prepared to set aside a reasonable income for him, and when he is installed at Hunsford, you may have the comfort of knowing, whilst you are in Hertfordshire, that your duties here are being attended to.”

“In Hertfordshire, your ladyship?” asked Mr. Collins with some surprise. “Do I understand that you think it right for me to turn my attentions more steadily toward my inheritance at Longbourn?”

“Why of course, Mr. Collins. Mr. Bennet has been dead nearly four months now, and while your generosity to his widow and his daughters is everything proper, you must begin to think of how you will manage your estate in the future to the benefit of yourself and of your heir.”

Mr. Collins sat back in amazement. “Indeed, your ladyship, indeed!”

“I am sure your mother-in-law and sisters are very grateful to you, as they should be. You have been uncommonly magnanimous, I am sure. But I am also certain that it would be very detrimental for the Bennet ladies to come to expect that you will give precedence to their allowance and their dowries over any other concerns – you have your future heir’s inheritance to think of now.”

“Indeed,” said Mr. Collins again, who despite his surprise at the topic of conversation, was never averse to being persuaded to consider his own interests. “I am most sincerely obliged to your ladyship – I had not thought of that at all.”

“Yes, well, in my experience, newly married men with pretty young wives think hardly at all. But then, neither do men in general.”

“Yes, your ladyship.”

“Naturally, Mr. Collins, despite your obligations in Hertfordshire, I should like you to remain as head of this parish for as long as may be possible. You understand, I think, how things ought to be done here, and have none of those headstrong, independent ideas that some young members of the clergy may be tempted to inflict upon their congregations. I quite depend upon your loyalty and reliability, Mr. Collins.”

This compliment was enough to send William Collins into rhapsodies of gratitude, which Lady Catherine endured for a few brief moments before curtly informing the clergyman the interview was over and he ought to return to the parsonage directly.

---

Mr. Collins was abuzz with excitement as he walked back to the parsonage. Lady Catherine had filled his head with new ideas, and he was all eagerness to share them with Elizabeth.

“My dear!” he called as he entered the house. “My dear, I have such news from Rosings!”

Mr. Collins burst into Elizabeth’s sitting room, where she spent most mornings.

“My dear, listen to this! Oh, hello Mr. Darcy, how do you do, sir?”

The latter gentleman, evidently surprised at the sudden appearance of the master of the house, stood abruptly from his place on the settee next to Mrs. Collins.

“Sir.” His patroness’s imposing nephew bowed correctly, then turned to his hostess. “Good day, madam.”

Elizabeth returned his farewell without looking up from her hands folded in her lap. “Good day.”

Mr. Darcy strode from the room without another word, and Mr. Collins thought briefly of rebuking his wife for her apparent coolness to so grand a person as Lady Catherine’s rich nephew, but his excitement for his news overcame this whim.

“My dear Mrs. Collins, I have had the most fascinating conversation with Lady Catherine this morning. What do you think she has said?”

Elizabeth raised a flushed face to her husband, and her eyes held a hazy expression. Mr. Collins was too excited to notice.

“She has authorized and encouraged me to find a curate!”

“A curate?”

“Yes indeed!”

Elizabeth seemed to regain her self-possession. “But is not the parish too small to employ both a clergyman and a curate? Will there be sufficient employment here for such a young man?”

“Why indeed there shall, my dear, for when we are more often at Longbourn –”

“More often at Longbourn?” Elizabeth regarded him suspiciously. “How do you mean, Mr. Collins?”

“Well, Lady Catherine has put me in mind that soon we will want to take a more active role at Longbourn, and you know your sisters will not always be at home. . .”

“Has not my uncle Gardiner settled the details of my father’s estate satisfactorily, and set up a suitable steward at Longbourn? Are not my mother’s efforts to keep the house in good order sufficient in your estimation?”

“My dear Elizabeth, you misunderstand me!”

Elizabeth’s tone and expression grew stern. “Then pray, what can you mean, sir?”

Mr. Collins had learned over the brief period of his marriage that Elizabeth could grow quite intimidating when she had the mind to be. He chose his words carefully.

“My dear, I am very happy to be in a position to keep your good mother and sisters in nearly the same position they enjoyed before the death of your esteemed father. But despite my regard for their happiness, indeed, as a natural extension of my love and respect for you, my dear, I cannot neglect my own interests – our interests! Lady Catherine has reminded me that very soon your sisters will be married and settled, with their own establishments. And when that is the case, my love, I am sure your mother would find it very hard to be always alone at Longbourn and vexed with the little annoyances of running such a place, with nobody but a lowly steward to depend upon. I should like to return to Longbourn after Easter – as soon as a suitable curate may be found. After all,” he added, straightening to his full, if unimpressive height, “I am now master of Longbourn. I should like my heir to know the place he will one day inherit.”

Elizabeth fixed her eyes on him throughout this little speech, her expression giving away nothing. But internally, her courage began to waiver. She had known she would not be able to distract him from thoughts of Longbourn very long, but she feared what Mr. Collins’ greater role in the management of (admittedly) his estate might mean for the allowances and the well-being of her mother and sisters. And though she knew her duty, his reference to an eventual heir for Longbourn could not have been more distasteful to her.

“You must do as you think right. I cannot deter you. But I hope you will consult me, husband, before forming any serious designs.”

Mr. Collins breathed an audible sigh of relief, and began his customary effusions. “Of course, dearest Elizabeth, of course! You are so very clever that I shall depend upon your judgment in these matters as in all others! . . . ”

Unable to bear hearing him speak anymore on the matter, and whilst her husband still prattled away, Elizabeth excused herself to see to the first household matter she could think of.

---

The afternoon of the following day, as she took one of her now customary walks through the lovely woods near Hunsford, Elizabeth was still preoccupied by the conversation with her husband of the previous morning.

She had been under the impression, perhaps carelessly, that he had meant to leave off the matter of becoming true master at Longbourn somewhat indefinitely. But now that Lady Catherine had encouraged him otherwise, Elizabeth worried he might also be persuaded to assert his authority in ways that might have unfortunate consequences for her mother and sisters, such as diminishing their allowances, or even revoking his promise to let them remain in their home.

Until now, Elizabeth had been confident enough that Mr. Collins’s fondness for her would provide sufficient motivation for him to abide by her wishes in matters of Longbourn, but she had no illusions that her influence on him was anything compared to that of Lady Catherine. What would she do if her husband’s patroness persuaded him to effectively disregard her family’s interest?

“How do you do, madam?”

Elizabeth was pulled from her thoughts by a voice becoming increasingly familiar.

“Mr. Darcy. You have found me out again, sir.”

With a little half-smile of greeting, she continued walking by way of inviting him to join her, and accordingly he fell into step at her side.

They walked silently in this manner for some time. Elizabeth had been surprised to see the gentleman at the parsonage yesterday, when he called unexpectedly while Mr. Collins was at Rosings and Jane in the village to post a reply to their mother. He spoke of nothing of out the ordinary, inquired pleasantly enough after how she found running her own home, what she thought of the distance between Hunsford and Hertfordshire, and was gone immediately upon her husband’s return. But there was something unspoken in the expression of his dark eyes and sternly handsome face that had at once intrigued and unsettled her, something that made her cheeks flush warmly and her heart beat ever so slightly faster.

Here in the outdoors, however, walking companionably together, she felt none of that agitation. “I have had a letter from my sister Georgiana in London,” he said, presently. “She sends her condolences to you and to your mother and sisters.”

“Oh.”

“I hope you do not find her remarks presumptuous— she was present when we learned your father had died from Miss Bingley, who’d had a letter from Miss Bennet.”

“Yes, of course not. I am obliged to Miss Darcy. She is very sweet to be so kind to ladies she has never met before.”

Darcy’s smile was warm and genuine. “She is very kind.”

Elizabeth was somewhat surprised at this exchange, given her memory of how Mr. Wickham had described the same young lady not four months earlier. Very proud and haughty he had called her, lamenting the change in her character between childhood and womanhood. But of course, a proud man himself, Mr. Darcy would perhaps be blind to these qualities in his sister.

“I envy your letter— my own sisters are terrible correspondents, but for Jane. Though there is much on everyone’s mind at Longbourn just now.”

“Yes, naturally.” This remark was followed by a longer pause, in which he seemed to be debating whether to embark on a particular course of conversation. Then he said, “have you and . . . Mr. Collins much thought of returning permanently to Hertfordshire?”

Elizabeth laughed a little, mirthlessly, at his having guessed the direction of her thoughts before their meeting. She stole a look up into his face to see whether he had any notion of having done so, but his expression was innocent enough. “Longbourn belongs to Mr. Collins now,” she said, returning her gaze to the path before them. “It is his to decide whether and when to return to Hertfordshire. Of course, he is also very eager to please your aunt. He is not likely to consider the possibility of leaving Hunsford and her sphere forever without a great deal of painstaking deliberation.”

“Indeed,” replied Darcy, who, to his credit, seemed a little embarrassed at this indirect reference to his aunt’s overbearing manners. After another long pause he inquired, “And you? Would you be pleased to return home?”

She could not explain it, but his ordinary, unassuming reference to Longbourn as her home threatened to bring tears to her eyes and created a small lump in her throat. “I should be pleased to return to the place I grew up, to the home and the people I loved so well. But everything is changed now. My present hope is to do what I can for my mother and sisters, and to faithfully remind my husband of his duty to provide for them in every eventuality.”

“I am sure Mr. Collins is sensible of his duty to his relations.”

“I hope you are right, sir. But I am also not unaware of the fact that many men find the burden of providing room, board, servants, and an allowance to a mother-in-law and four sisters to be more onerous and impracticable than the excitement of overseeing his own inheritance as he sees fit.”

Darcy stopped and regarded her face to face. “Has he given you any reason to think so, madam?”

Elizabeth looked away, suddenly aware she had perhaps said too much. “Forgive me, Mr. Darcy. I am a little tired today and I fear I misrepresent myself to you—”

She began to continue walking, but he reached out and earnestly took hold of her hand. “Madam, please. You are the most sensible person I know. If your husband neglects his duty to care for those your father has left behind, he must answer for it.”

Once again their eyes locked, and Elizabeth felt herself falling into something far beyond her current emotional depth to name or understand. “Sir,” she said presently, still holding his eyes, “you are very good. But I assure you, I am equal to the task of protecting my family’s interests.”

He seemed partially mollified at this, but his grasp still held her fast. “I have no doubt of that, madam. However. . .” he sighed impatiently and pressed her hand, “I’ve no wish to impose upon you— but if you should feel at any point you might benefit from the aid of an ally. . .”

Elizabeth was genuinely astonished at this, but could not find it within herself to refuse what seemed an open offer of help into the future. Would it be so very bad to be in Mr. Darcy’s debt?

“You are too kind, sir.”

“No, I’m not. Say you’ll let me help you. If you need me.”

Elizabeth looked up into his face again with renewed astonishment. Could he . . .?

“Elizabeth! Mr. Darcy!” called Jane, smiling warmly at her sister and the gentleman as she approached from the direction of the parsonage.

The two figures flew apart, abruptly turning their attention from the intensity of the previous moment toward the advancing Miss Bennet.

“Jane! I thought you were resting at the parsonage,” said Elizabeth as her sister neared, finding for the second time in as many days that her cheeks were flushed and warm.

“I was. But then I thought one of your walks was likely to do me good, Lizzy, and I set off to find you. How do you do, Mr. Darcy?”

“Well, Miss Bennet, thank you.”

“Will we see you at dinner this evening, at Rosings?”

“Indeed.”

The three exchanged pleasantries for a few minutes, until Darcy bowed correctly to the two ladies and excused himself to return to Rosings to deal with some pressing matters of business. Jane bid him goodbye very cordially, then looping her arm through her sister’s, continued down the path. Elizabeth allowed herself to be led away, but she couldn’t help a long glance over her shoulder, watching Darcy depart.

Chapter Five

The gentleman had just joined them after dinner, and Colonel Fitzwilliam had once more taken a place at Jane’s side. He was talking to her in his pleasant, humorous way, entertaining her with stories of his boyhood exploits at Rosings. The Colonel was everything kind and gentlemanlike, and Jane had been a pretty young woman long enough to know when she was admired. But while she found him a pleasant companion, even a handsome one, her heart remained untouched. There was another gentleman, one she was resigned never to see again, who had already claimed it.

“I fear my aunt at times makes tedious company,” continued Colonel Fitzwilliam. “Your sister is marvelous with her – polite and obliging, but able to hold her own ground. Poor Darcy is less able to disguise his annoyance.”

Jane turned her gaze across the room to where Lady Catherine sat enthroned in her usual place of honor. Her daughter was to her right, and Lizzy, Mr. Collins, and Mr. Darcy nearby. After the Colonel’s remark, Jane had expected to see Darcy regarding his aunt with his usual thinly veiled coolness, but he was not. He was staring intently at Elizabeth.

“Lady Catherine is a kind hostess. I am sure that any appearance of tedium in her conversation is only due to her determination to give others the benefit of her experience.”

Colonel Fitzwilliam regarded her with a wide smile and an incredulous but appreciative chuckle. “Good heavens, Miss Bennet. I do believe you could turn the devil himself into a saint if you had a mind to. You are truly an angel.”

Jane blushed deeply at this teasing compliment, and insisted she was not, then let the Colonel continue to talk prettily to her until the evening was over. But after her notice of the way Mr. Darcy regarded her sister, she gave little heed to her amiable companion and paid more attention to the little drama that was playing out across the room.

Lady Catherine and Mr. Collins were continuing in their usual way to dominant the conversation – she to lead it and he to agree emphatically with everything she said – but Darcy seemed to completely disregard them. His eyes remained fixed on her sister, as if he were at once trying to memorize every contour of her features and will her to return his gaze. And though Elizabeth seemed generally determined to ignore that gentleman and offer little interjections to the conversation between her husband and his patroness when called upon, there was a moment when she gave it, turned her eyes to Darcy, and held his gaze for several long moments before turning away with a confused and distracted look and a flushed face.

Jane felt genuinely puzzled and alarmed by everything she had seen pass between them. Her sister had not seemed to take much notice of Mr. Darcy at all in the past, except to censure him. And yet, his looks were not those of an indifferent acquaintance. They were the looks of a man in love. She remembered how Charlotte Lucas had teased Elizabeth in the autumn about Mr. Darcy’s admiration for her, but neither Lizzy nor anyone but Charlotte seemed to take such a notion seriously. Perhaps Charlotte’s shrewd perception had been correct all along.

These reflections plagued Jane on the journey back to the parsonage that evening, and soon she resolved that the only way to ease her mind on the subject would be to speak to her sister about it. She retired to her room to prepare for bed, then tiptoed out into the hall to knock on Lizzy’s door.

“Lizzy?”

“Come in, Jane,” replied her sister.

“I thought you would not be in bed yet,” said Jane, slipping into the room. Elizabeth was still wearing her gown but had taken down her hair and was brushing it by the fire. She smiled at her sister.

“This is very nice – just like we used to do at Longbourn.”

Jane sat down on the bed and smiled sadly. “Yes.”

“I am sorry we’ve been obliged to dine at Rosings so many times since your coming. Lady Catherine, I’m afraid, is a determined hostess. But such an invitation cannot be refused.”

“I don’t mind, Lizzy, really. She means well, I think. And I have been enjoying the Colonel’s company. I do begin to feel sorry for poor Miss de Bourgh, though. Lady Catherine is a most attentive mother, but . . . one can’t help feeling that perhaps Miss de Bourgh would not be in need of so much medical attention if Lady Catherine were not so determined to give it to her.”

Elizabeth laughed outright at this and regarded Jane with amusement lighting her eyes. “Goodness, Jane! That almost sounded like unkindness!”

Jane colored self-consciously, then laughed a little at herself. “Perhaps. Time and experience must change us all, I suppose.”

Elizabeth laughed again. “Perhaps!”

“Lizzy, there is something I wished to speak to you about. . .”

“You needn’t worry Jane,” said her sister, her expression still alight with amusement. “Though Lady Catherine does dispense a great deal of advice, I’ve no intention of following much of any of it!”

Jane shifted uncomfortably “No, I know you are too stubborn, Lizzy, to let her ladyship persuade you to do anything you had not already designed to do yourself.”

“Then pray, what it is it?”

Preparing to broach the uncomfortable subject of her purpose, Jane took a deep breath and reached for her sister’s hands. “You know that no one admires your judgment and character as much as I do, or more dearly wishes to see you happy and loved. . .”

“Good heavens, Jane, you make me feel quite worried. What is it?”

Jane shook her head, feeling as though she had already made a bad beginning. “I have no wish to alarm you, Lizzy--- but, I fear what I have to say you will not like.”

Elizabeth’s expression grew serious. “Oh?”

Jane took another deep breath and squeezed Elizabeth’s hands earnestly. “I feel I must put you on your guard, dear sister. Your own conduct is beyond reproach, but there are others, I think, who might secretly wish that it were not so.”

Elizabeth had grown suddenly very quiet and very pale. “Whatever can you mean, Jane?” she asked in a voice barely about a whisper.

Jane let out a heavy sigh and solemnly met her sister’s eyes. “I have seen the way Mr. Darcy looks at you, Lizzy. And while I am certain you have done nothing to encourage him, I am also certain that he is love with you.”

Elizabeth pulled her hands abruptly from Jane’s grasp, stood, and strode away to face the window. Jane saw her shoulders slowly rise as she took in a large, steady breath, as if to calm a host of rioting emotions.

“You are mistaken, Jane,” she said presently, “if you think Mr. Darcy cares for me. Why, we have faithfully disliked each other for many months now.”

“I do not think that can be true, Lizzy. Not on his side.”

“Please, Jane— ”

“Believe me, I do not say these things to pain you,” said Jane, growing tearful. “I would gladly be silent on the subject of my suspicions if I were convinced that no harm would ever come of them. But Lizzy you are a married woman now, married to a clergyman no less, and he is the nephew of your husband’s patroness. I have no doubt your own conduct has been faultless, but there must not be even a hint of impropriety between you.”

Elizabeth spun around, her expression agitated. “Of course you are right, but what do you propose I do? Shall I confront him?”

“No, no. But you must make it very plain by your behavior that you do not wish for or welcome his affections. I fear you must be a little cold to him, publically, until he understands.”

Elizabeth’s demeanor became grave once more and she turned again toward the window. “Yes, yes of course.”

Jane rose from her place and crossed the room, wrapping her arms protectively about her sister’s waist from behind. “I am sorry, Lizzy,” she said, resting her chin on Elizabeth’s shoulder. “I am sorry to trouble you with this. I hope you know I have only your ultimate happiness in view.”

Lizzy laughed a little. “Yes, misery me. To be the only woman for whom Mr. Darcy’s attentions are not the envy of all her peers.”

“He is a sensible man, and a good one, I think. He must feel very deeply if he does so poor a job of hiding it.”

Lizzy laughed again, and brightened enough to remark to her sister, “Do you mean to make me feel better or worse about all this?”

Jane colored but laughed with Lizzy. “I will say no more on the matter, then. I felt it my duty as your loving sister to share my observations, but I trust you to address the situation sensitively and honorably.”

“Sense and honor,” said Elizabeth in a love voice, growing contemplative. “What a funny world we live in Jane, where sense and honor will always be more highly valued than love.”

“Be careful, Lizzy.”

“I know. I will.”

---

Determined to shake the melancholy mood of the previous evening, Elizabeth set out on her daily walk the next morning, rather earlier than usual, with Charlotte’s latest letter. Charlotte’s friendship and implacable good sense was always a cure when Elizabeth found herself in low spirits, and news of Meryton was just the sort of mundane comfort to calm her.

She had just finished the first side of the page when the sound of branches cracking under approaching footsteps interrupted her. In a panic that Mr. Darcy had again managed to meet her along the path of one of her walks, she looked up from her letter with wide eyes and a pounding heart. But it was in fact Colonel Fitzwilliam, alone, walking in her direction some distance up ahead.

When he was near, Elizabeth put away her letter and forced a smile. “I did not know you ever walked this way.”

“I am making a tour of the park, as I do every year, and planned to end with a call to the parsonage. Are you going much further?”

“No, I should have turned in a moment.”

“Then shall we walk together, Mrs. Collins?”

She turned and fell into step beside him. “You leave Kent on Saturday, Colonel?”

“Yes. Back to London, where Darcy’s sister awaits us. Perhaps you do not know – I am her joint guardian.”

This information surprised Elizabeth. “Oh, no I did not know. She is still very young, then?”

“Sixteen.”

She smiled up at him, teasing. “I hope your charge does not give you too much trouble, Colonel Fitzwilliam. Young ladies of sixteen are full of headstrong notions, and if she has anything of the Darcy spirit, I imagine she likes to have her own way.”

To Elizabeth’s surprise, rather than responding to this comment with a good-humored reply of his own, the usually sanguine Colonel looked at her with concerned instead. “Georgiana is a sweet, serious, and obedient young person, and she has got over the most trying age. I hope you have heard nothing to the contrary, Mrs. Collins.”

“No, indeed. In fact, she is a very great favorite with some ladies of my acquaintance who I think you know --- Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley.”

The Colonel’s countenance cleared and Elizabeth felt she was out of danger. “I know them a little. Their brother is a pleasant, gentlemanlike man. He’s a great friend of Darcy’s.”

“Oh yes,” said Elizabeth, dryly. “Mr. Darcy is uncommonly kind to Mr. Bingley and takes a prodigious deal of care of him.”

“Yes, I believe Darcy does take care of him. I understand, that Darcy credits himself on lately having saved Mr. Bingley from the inconvenience of a most imprudent marriage.”

The words had barely escaped his lips when he seemed to realize he had made a critical error. Elizabeth stopped suddenly and grew pale. “Did Mr. Darcy give his reasons for this interference?”

“Well, I’ve certainly no reason to believe my cousin would— ”

“And by what means did he endeavor to separate them?”

The poor Colonel looked quite miserable now. “Forgive me, Mrs. Collins. I fear I have been thoughtless and said more than I ought. Darcy told me a very few things in confidence, and I really know very little of the matter. If I have given you offense I humbly beg your pardon.”

Elizabeth could hear her heart pounding in her ears, and felt tears threatening to flood her eyes.

“No, no,” she said a moment later, rousing herself enough to respond. “Indeed, Colonel, do not trouble yourself on my account.” She tried to offer him a reassuring smile but managed only a sigh. “Indeed, you may have done me a greater kindness than you know.”

The gentleman gave her a contrite smile and silently offered her a conciliatory arm, which she accepted. The remainder of the walk back to the parsonage was largely silent. Rather than pay his call as intended, Colonel Fitzwilliam bid her a genteel goodbye at her door, and continued back to Rosings.