Prologue
Posted on Monday, 28-Sep-98
t is a fact universally acknowledged that a clergyman, whether of good connections or low, whether he is able to really shake the rafters with his weekly sermon, or if he is cited in several respectable medical journals as a good source of anesthesia, must be in want of a patron or patroness. Such was the case with Mr. William Collins. Shortly after his graduation from seminary, he had been introduced to Lady Catherine de Bourgh, a widower who possessed a great fortune, and lived in an expensive, expansive house in Kent. Always the one to be giving advice to her neighbors, Lady Catherine saw the young, impressionable minister as a perfect mouthpiece. His long-winded, toadying nature could become tiresome, but whatever sentiments she expressed, he echoed. It was like having her own little parrot in the pulpit.
Not too long after his appointment as rector, Lady Catherine took it upon herself to recommend that Mr. Collins find himself a suitable wife. For this purpose, she had him go to Hertfordshire and visit his uncle's house, Longbourn. There, he took a liking to his cousin, Elizabeth Bennet, but the feelings were not reciprocated. He then left the house in disgust, only to meet Elizabeth's closest friend, Charlotte Lucas. Fortunately, for him, Charlotte was of a more... sensible nature, and consented soon after to be his wife.
They lived happily together at Hunsford parsonage; he minded his gardens and his bees, walked the countryside, and of course, waited constantly on the beck and call of Lady Catherine. His wife, on the other hand, was content to read in the parlor, keep up correspondence with her friends and relatives from Hertfordshire, and attend to those in need in the town. Because of their various activities, they rarely had time together, but still, they appeared to be a happily wedded couple. It seemed as though everything had been going along fine, and then, the unexpected surprise came: an olive-branch.
Mr. Collins had never been comfortable around children, but did really try his very best to be a suitable father to his son, William. Nevertheless, he felt that raising the children should be his wife's duty, and therefore left it up to Charlotte to raise their son. He would correct the boy occasionally, and would read from Fordyce's Sermons when rocking him to sleep, but never really grew close. When young William was three, another olive branch came, this time a daughter, whom they named Catherine; Mr. Collins' esteemed patroness would have it no other way.
Nevertheless, in his fourth year of marriage, and his fifth year of ministry, The Reverend William Collins felt as though something was missing from his life... as though something was not quite right... and he could not quite put his finger on it...
Part One
Posted on Friday, 23-Oct-98
William Collins slowly opened his eyes as the first rays of sunlight crept into his bed-chamber. For as long as he could remember, he had risen from bed when the sun did. It gave him that chance to start the day off right, by taking a quick walk around the property of Hunsford before the sun took the dew off the grass, before the mist disappeared from the fields. He hadn't done this as much lately; one day, Lady Catherine happened to be traveling into town early, and had seen him walking about, and demanded that he not put himself in such risk by walking in the cold morning air.
"Are you not sensible to the fact that you have not only a parish to care for, but a wife and family as well?" she had asked him sharply that day.
"Of course. My most humble apologies. I assure you, Lady Catherine, it shall—" he began before she cut him off as always.
"Please see to it that this does not happen again, or I shall be most aggrieved, Mr. Collins." With that, Mr. Collins resolved himself not to take his 'morning constitutional', as the female servant had called it, until the weather turned warmer. After all, Lady Catherine did have a point... there was Charlotte, William Jr. and Catherine to think of. How would they be provided for if he were to die? Yet something in the back of his mind... he couldn't quite put his finger on it... it was telling him that he had never caught cold and died from his walks before, so why would he now? Dismissing it as a passing thought, he returned to the house.
Waking up, Mr. Collins walked to the water closet, where the manservant had prepared a hot bath for him. Sinking in, he thought about his daily morning walk, and how he missed, it. But as he had done a few weeks ago, there was no point in arguing with Lady Catherine. She was right, as usual. Or was she? Again, something was telling him to get out of that tub and into the fresh, morning air. Unfortunately, Mr. Collins' reason won out, and he spent his time reflecting on how fortunate he was to have Lady Catherine for a patroness, and how it would be most horrible to do something against her wishes. Therefore, Mr. Collins put out of his mind altogether any thoughts of morning walks.
After his bath was done, he returned to his room and dressed. By this time, Charlotte had gone downstairs, and would probably be finishing some of her correspondence before the post had to go out. He walked down the stairs, remembering how well suited the staircase was for a clergyman—"Neither too shallow, nor too steep," he had told Sir William Lucas once—and then entered the dining room. The cook had already laid out breakfast: toast, English muffins, sausage, ham, and a bowl full of apples. Charlotte came in from the parlor, and joined her husband at the table. He had just begun to fill his plate, and strongly recommended the apples.
Charlotte helped herself to one, but did not seem to enjoy it. He was disappointed, but chose not to lecture his wife on Lady Catherine's unstinting beneficence toward them. Yes, he had been a bit surprised that his patroness had sent an entire bushel of apples, but perhaps the orchard that she had at Rosings—orchards, he corrected himself, because she had several—came up with a good season this year. Nevertheless, he saw it as his duty to make sure that Charlotte remembered how indebted they were to her. So he took two apples.
After breakfast, he went on his rounds, visiting the sick and elderly in his parish. Visiting them could be a chore, because they took him away from his beloved gardens. His bees were especially needing his attentions this time of year, since they would be going into hibernation soon. As soon as possible, he returned home, put on his gardening clothes, and headed out into the crisp autumn afternoon. He loaded the first beehive onto a wheelbarrow, and began to push it toward a small shed which he had set up as a winter storage area for his bees. Just as the wheelbarrow reached the door to the shed, he heard the familiar clip-clop of his patroness' chaise-and-four coming up the drive. Running as hard as he could, he met her at the end of the road.
"Ah, Mr. Collins. I trust you and your family are well today?" she asked, eyeing her parson with the usual critical expression.
"Yes, your ladyship, I feel that I can speak for all of my family when I say that we are quite in the best of health, and I do thank you for your beneficence in—" he said, bowing slightly.
"Yes, yes. I have come to inform you that you and Mrs. Collins are invited to Rosings for dinner tonight. There is a matter of great importance which I would discuss with you and Mrs. Collins."
She actually wants my opinion on something important? he thought, completely forgetting that his wife was included in this.
"Oh, thank you, Lady Catherine. We are most grateful, and humbled by your request for us to advise you, and—"
"Very well. Dinner shall be served at seven this evening. Please be punctual; you know that I value punctuality above all else."
Collins was left saying another "Yes, your ladyship" as the carriage rode off toward her mansion. Completely forgetting about the bees, Collins ran to the house, to inform Charlotte to prepare for a special dinner engagement that evening.
Posted on Saturday, 24-Oct-98
That evening, after dinner had been cleared, Lady Catherine led them all into the great sitting room. As soon as all were seated, she produced a letter from the small table next to her chair.
"I received this letter a week ago, Mr. Collins, and I wish to ask your advice on it. It is in regards to my nephew, Mr. Darcy. He has written in hopes of healing the breach that has arisen between us over his... choice of wife. You know my opinion very well on the subject; I most heartily disapprove of the marriage between my nephew and the former Miss Bennet, but that, as they say, is now part of history." She paused as the parson took all of this in. Much of it he already knew; he had been the one to warn Mr. Bennet of the possibility of Darcy and Elizabeth marrying, and he had seen Lady Catherine go ballistic when she received Darcy's announcement of the wedding.
"I am quite perplexed as to what to do. Not only does Mr. Darcy want to heal the breach, but he wants to visit with his family, so that I may meet my great-niece and nephew!"
Collins took a moment to think. Hasn't this been long enough? Darcy and cousin Elizabeth have been married for three... almost four years, and have two children. I think Lady Catherine has carried on this stupid grudge long enough!
"I believe that if there is a time to have them visit, it is at this present moment. I believe that you have been most effective in making Mr. Darcy feel the negative effects of his... marriage, but at the same time, if you do not wish to remain estranged from him forever, this is the time to heal the breach as he indeed suggests. Therefore, I should extend his family the invitation at once," Collins said, hoping this was neutral and vague enough so that Lady Catherine would not get angry at him.
She chewed over this for awhile, and then said, "But surely, as you suggested, he shall bring his entire family with him. That would mean bringing his wife, Mr. Collins. Miss Bennet may have polluted the shades of Pemberley, but surely she shall not do the same to Rosings while they are in Kent!"
"Lady Catherine, I most humbly beg you to reconsider—" he began.
"No! I am quite put out by this! It escapes my very reason that Mr. Darcy had to marry... that woman!" she exclaimed, letting the last two words drip off her tongue like poison.
Mr. Collins was surprised when his wife spoke up; it was the first time she had really said anything of great amount to their patroness.
"Lady Catherine, if I may? Mr. Collins and I would be more than happy to have the Darcys stay with us at Hunsford," Charlotte said. She watched as his face melted from one of admiration for his quick-thinking wife, to one of horror at what she had thought. "They would not be in the way at all, and if you decided that you wished to see them, there would be no concern for the shades of Rosings being polluted."
But Charlotte, what about the shades of Hunsford? Mr. Collins thought, as he tried to make himself very, very inconspicuous. Perhaps I can make a quick run for the door and escape before Charlotte also decides to invite Mrs. Bennet for a visit!
"Furthermore, if you find your breach healed between Mr. and Mrs. Darcy, you could always invite them to stay longer with you, once their stay at Hunsford is over," Charlotte said, folding her hands neatly in her lap.
"And have you given any consideration to this, Mr. Collins?" Lady Catherine asked, looking amazed.
Um...no? "Why, um...of course, Lady Catherine. We would be more than honored to have the Darcys as our guests at Hunsford for a fortnight.
"Very well. I am agreeable to that solution. Quite clever thinking, Mrs. Collins. Mr. Collins, I am constantly impressed by your choice as a proper wife," Lady Catherine said. Mr. Collins smiled graciously to his patroness, but thought, You don't know what she's putting me through right now. You have no clue in the world. And perhaps I don't, either...
After that, the evening was pretty much concluded, and Lady Catherine's coach was brought around for the Collinses to return home. As the footman showed them out, Mr. Collins thought he heard Lady Catherine speaking with Miss Anne.
"Well, it appears as though we will both get our wishes. You will see your cousin and his family, and I won't have to have them under the same roof!" she exclaimed.
"You must admit, Mother, that Mrs. Collins was very clever to come up with an idea like that," Anne said.
"Yes. It is a shame that so sensible a woman had the misfortune to be married to such a stupid dolt." Anne laughed quietly at that.
Mr. Collins did not stay to hear anything else. He had been shocked enough by what was heard already. So this is what my patroness thinks of me? 'Tis a miracle that I have not been kicked out of the parish yet! he thought. But these thoughts were to be put aside for now; the Darcys would be arriving within the week!