One Thread Pulled: The Dance With Mr. Darcy (53 page)

“No, Mama, I beg you.” Elizabeth's eyes locked desperately with her mother's. “He could have nothing to say to me that I want to hear.”

Mrs. Bennet glared angrily at Elizabeth. “It wounds me deeply that of all my girls, it is you who will be the mistress of Longbourn someday. Your ingratitude is shameful—do you hear me? You must embrace your good fortune with a thankful heart. I
 
insist
 
you grant him an audience as he has requested.” She marched determinedly to the door to the sitting room and swung it open. “Elizabeth will see you now, Mr. Collins.”

Elizabeth watched helplessly from the bed as her mother departed. From the dim light of the darkened bedchamber, the silhouette of her mother passed through the doorway into the adjacent sitting room, crossing paths with Mr. Collins as his shadowy form stepped through the threshold.

Although her mind was affected by the sedating drugs administered by Mr. Jones, Elizabeth found herself with full clarity regarding one truth. Mr. Collins was here to propose to her. She felt a peculiar detachment from the impending proposition, and calmness settled upon her as she resolved to simply get the business over with as quickly as possible.

He approached her bedside. “My fair cousin, Elizabeth,” he began, his hands wringing together slightly, “I have come to you now in what is otherwise a time of distress to bring to you such happy tidings that I am sure they will improve your spirits and your health ere long.”

“Please sit, Mr. Collins. I cannot see your face.” Elizabeth replied, her eyes squinting.

“Oh, yes, of course.” The chair that was next to the bedside was a woman's chair, and Mr. Collins looked upon it with some disdain before he set himself down on it. “As I had begun to say, I have looked upon this moment with the greatest anticipation. I am certain that you know of the reason I traveled from Kent to visit my cousins at Longbourn, for it has not been a secret by any means, but I feel it my duty to explain, leaving no misunderstanding between us, the reason I am here before you today.

You may well be aware that it is less than a year since I was granted the living at Hunsford. Divine providence itself has blessed me not only with a valuable living but with a most generous patroness, as well, who has condescended most graciously to lend her considerable wisdom in advising me on the matter of matrimony. On the point that I must marry immediately, she has been most insistent, and upon learning of my inevitable inheritance of this estate when your father is no longer earthbound, she persuaded me that the only honorable course was to marry one of his daughters in order to spare you all from the fate that our ancestors did not. But this you must already know.” Mr. Collins reached out to take one of Elizabeth's hands, which were folded together on the bedclothes.

“I must beg you not to be so familiar, Mr. Collins.” Elizabeth said as she pulled her hand away.

“You will not consider my touch too familiar when we are married, Miss Elizabeth. Do you not recall, on the day we first met, how taken Lady Catherine de Bourgh was with you? She favored you above your sisters, recommending you from the very beginning as the ideal partner of my future life. You must see what an honor this is to have been noticed by such an esteemed lady as she.
 
Therefore, I have singled you out in my attentions and intentions, for I am as faithful a man as there ever was, and once my course is set, I am true to it. Knowing that Lady Catherine approved of you, I have observed that in company, your behavior is above reproach. You are intelligent and energetic, and your concern for those within your sphere—all of these commendable qualities highly recommend you as the ideal parson's wife. Why, the courage it took for you to hold a dying baby in your arms and comfort her family in the hours before her death—this spirit of generosity and compassion is an example of the goodness of your nature, although in future, I hope that you will exercise more caution. It will not do for you to become ill again.”

“Dying baby?” Elizabeth shook her head, her features contorted. “Who? Of what do you speak?” She began to tremble. “Not, not, not ... oh, no!” She began to cry, her hands covering her face. “No, no, no, oh, little Hannah, no!”

“Do not be distraught cousin. The babe is with our Lord now. There is nothing to mourn.” Mr. Collins said with a shake of his head. Elizabeth made no reply but continued to weep.

“As I was saying, you possess all of the traits I desire in a wife, and I am convinced that marriage to one such as you will increase my own happiness tenfold. My contentment in the marital state cannot fail to benefit my efforts as a clergyman and shepherd to my fold. It is good fortune, indeed, to have discovered one so well suited to my desires in the very household of my inheritance. There are many lovely and amiable young ladies in the neighborhood of Hunsford from whom I could select, but knowing that my good fortune upon your father's demise could bring ruination to so many who do not deserve it, I consider that an alliance between us provides a most fortuitous solution to the whole business. Due to matters of distance, and of commitments to my parish, I believe a short engagement is preferable.”

Elizabeth removed her hands from her face and looked with astonishment at Mr. Collins, tears cutting trails down her cheeks.

“Mr. Collins, you assume too much. You have made no proposal.” Due to her crying, Elizabeth's breath was coming in spasms as she spoke.

“Oh yes, of course. This is an honor that every young lady dreams of, no doubt, and I would not do you the discourtesy of denying you your tender moment. It is uniformly charming that you should ask for it! I first must assure you of the violence of my affections. I am sensible of your situation in life, and in consideration of the fact that nearly every worldly good within the walls of Longbourn will become mine upon inheritance, it would be unseemly for me to make any demands upon your family by way of a dowry, however much society may expect it. You shall never hear me complain of this when we are married. Miss Elizabeth Bennet, I pray that you will do me the honor of accepting my application for your hand in marriage and consent to be my wife.”

Elizabeth suppressed her anger at his audacity. “I see in all that you have said that you approach me with good intent and, therefore, have discharged any duty you may have felt toward our family due to the entailment. I thank you for your consideration of our welfare, truly, I do, but although it may pain you to hear it, I must decline your offer, Mr. Collins. In light of my own feelings in the matter, I cannot do otherwise. I must beg you now to leave and never say a word more of this to me.” Elizabeth looked at him wearily.

The beaming visage of Mr. Collins was rapidly transformed to one of disbelief. “Miss Bennet, think of what you are doing!” Mr. Collins said angrily. “I realize that it is common for fashionable females to make a display of their elegance by refusing a proposal the first time it is made, but for one in your situation, this is a dangerous game—you are in no position to refuse. You must know that mine may be the only such offer you shall ever receive, and in refusing me, you condemn your mother and sisters to poverty of the severest kind. Your father's health may be excellent today, but we live in an uncertain world, and I shall perhaps not feel so charitable toward my cousins when he dies if I have been spurned by his daughter. I now make my offer a second time, but this shall be my last.”

“I play no game, I assure you. Indeed, as a rational creature, I abhor the very idea of tormenting a decent man merely to gratify my own vanity. I am not that sort of woman. My answer to your offer is once again,
 
and will always be
, no.” Elizabeth closed her eyes. “Please go, Mr. Collins. It was ill-advised for you to visit me today.”

“You are not well.” Mr. Collins stood up decidedly. “It is clear to me that this fever has addled your mind, which has impaired your ability to answer truly, for I
 
am
 
an eligible match in every respect. No, you cannot be serious in a refusal! There is too much at stake. When you have recovered, I will approach you again and expect at that time that you will have regained your senses. I am persuaded that you will then accept my offer, and I will lead you to the altar with all due haste, for it is not a wise thing for a man to live alone. I am truly lonely, dear cousin, and I am determined that you shall be my solace and my comfort. I pray you do not think me indelicate when I tell you that, from the moment we first met, thoughts of our marriage have brought me great hope in the brightness of the future.” He leaned across the bed toward her.

Elizabeth's eyes snapped open, lit with indignation. “Mr. Collins, what you speak of will
 
never
 
be. Step back this instant or I shall scream.”

Mr. Collins' face contorted as if he were in pain. “You are the chosen companion of my future life cousin, Elizabeth. We have not yet taken our vows, but I am deeply attached to you already—you will most assuredly be my wife. Lady Catherine approves of you, and your mother has encouraged the match.”

His expression clouded as he began to realize that his designs were to be circumvented. He was overcome with desperation. Confusion at Elizabeth's refusal, fear of Lady Catherine's reaction to his failed mission, and pent-up desires stirred by his imaginings of married life drove Mr. Collins in that moment to a most uncharacteristic course. “You have lit the fire of passion in my heart cousin, and even Adam partook of the forbidden fruit when tempted by a woman. If I compromise you now, nothing could prevent me from claiming that which is rightfully mine. I will not need your acceptance—your wise and excellent parents will insist on the marriage.” He sat down on the edge of the bed. “It is not my preference, of course, but if there is no other way....”

“Mr. Collins!” Elizabeth exclaimed, “You are a respectable man! You must desist before your actions are irrevocable!” She opened her mouth to scream, but his hand clamped across her mouth, muffling the sound that would call for help. She widened her eyes at him, hoping to call him back to reason as the look on his face twisted into a leer. She was too weak from her sickness and the drugs to fight him effectively, and she was nauseous with fear and uncertainty at what might happen next. She struggled under the bedclothes to free herself, but this only excited his determination.

“Unhand her this instant!” Colonel Fitzwilliam roared from the doorway. It was but a fraction of a second before he was upon Mr. Collins. He wrapped his arms around Collins' chest and pulled him backward, away from Elizabeth.
 
Collins' legs kicked wildly in the air as the colonel turned and thrust the parson into the sitting room, where Mrs. Bennet hovered near the doorway, a hopeful look on her face. Her other daughters too were there, astonishment and mortification written on their faces.

“Miss Bennet,” the colonel commanded Jane, “attend to your sister. I shall deal with Mr. Collins.” He held Mr. Collins by the arm and led him roughly out of the room.

They ran into Mr. Bingley in the hallway, and after one look at the two men's faces, Bingley's color deepened, and he bade the colonel follow him.

Mr. Collins was almost submissive as he was escorted to Mr. Bingley's study by the two gentlemen, although he spoke without pausing, barely taking so much as a breath.

“Take care, take care, my dear Colonel, I beg you!” Mr. Collins attempted to break free of the ironclad grip that held his arm. “You know full well that Miss Elizabeth is my intended bride! I informed you of that myself—last night at the ball. Had you listened to me then, this scene would likely have been unnecessary. It is of no matter, however; I am fully of a disposition to forgive your interference. I am certain the nephew of my esteemed patroness would have nothing but the best of intentions, so in the spirit of generosity that your aunt has so frequently bestowed upon me, I am prepared to let bygones be bygones. You see before you the happiest of men, for I have proposed to my fair cousin, and she was in raptures at my offer, raptures! She was on the very verge of accepting me when you burst into the room and removed me from her side. I cannot imagine what came over you in that moment, for I was myself in great anticipation. My expectations of hearing her utter the words I have long waited to hear were dashed in that moment when you tore me away from her. I demand that you return me, so that I may have her answer!”

“She could not have been about to accept you, Mr. Collins, with your hand covering her mouth.” Colonel Fitzwilliam spoke barely above a whisper in Mr. Collins ear. He released Collins and pushed him into a chair in Bingley's study. “If she were in such raptures over the offer, pray tell us why you were about to force yourself on her?”

Bingley, who had been listening intently to this point, blanched and turned to Mr. Collins. “Is this true, sir?”

Collins frowned at Colonel Fitzwilliam. “He is painting a black picture, indeed, Mr. Bingley, but it was not as he makes it seem. When a couple becomes engaged, surely there is no evil to be had in a chaste kiss if their tender feelings deem it appropriate in the moment.”