Page 30 of The Heroic Mr Darcy's Bad Manners
“May I hope, madam, to solicit a private audience with your daughter Elizabeth?”
Lady Glentworth turned a narrowed eye on the parson. “You may not.”
Mr Collins spluttered, huffed, and scratched his head. “Dear Mrs Bennet, your modesty does you no disservice, but allow me to assure you of the purpose of my discourse. Your natural delicacy may lead you to dissemble, but my attentions have been marked. From almost the moment I entered your distinguished abode, I singled out your second eldest daughter—”
“Mr Collins!” Lady Glentworth tried to interrupt the ridiculous parson, but he only raised his voice above that of the mistress of Longbourn.
“Before I run away with my feelings on the subject, perhaps it is wise to expound upon my reason for marrying. Indeed, the very purpose of my coming here was to select a wife from amongst your beautiful daughters.”
Elizabeth watched her mother’s cheeks turn crimson and could hardly keep a straight face. Imagining the solemn Mr Collins being run away with his feelings struck her as humorous, but her mother looked as though she thought otherwise, and the ignorant fool continued as if Lady Glentworth had not spoken.
“Firstly, I think it the right thing for every clergyman in easy circumstances such as myself to set the example of matrimony in his parish. Secondly, I am convinced that a wife would add greatly to my own happiness. Thirdly, and perhaps what I should have counted as the first and foremost reason to marry, it was advised and recommended by the very noble lady whom I have the honour and privilege of calling my patroness. The admirable Lady Catherine de Bourgh has twice condescended to give me her opinion upon the subject—”
“MR COLLINS!” Lady Glentworth cried to no avail.
“It was but the very Saturday night before I left Hunsford—during a quadrille. Mrs Jenkinson was arranging Miss de Bourgh’s footstool when she said to me, ‘Mr Collins, a clergyman like you must marry. Choose a proper gentlewoman formysake as well as your own. Let her be an active, useful sort of person, not brought up too high, but able to make a small income go a long way. Bring her to Hunsford, and I shall visit her!”
Mr Collins paused theatrically, but unfortunately, it was not long enough for Elizabeth—or her mother—to gather their wits and end the clergyman’s speech before he turned his attention upon her.
“Allow me to observe, fair cousin, that the notice of the great Lady Catherine de Bourgh is by no means the least of the advantages I offer. Your liveliness and vivacity must naturally be tempered by the silence and respect which her rank will inevitably excite. Our son will be your father’s heir, and once that melancholy event occurs, I am prepared to inherit Longbourn. Um, I mean manage the estate until the child comes of age. You cannot be so eager to quit your childhood home? By accepting my hand you will always be at Longbourn. This is my motive, and I assure you that I am perfectly indifferent to fortune. I make no such demands upon your father, though I suspect that, given my cousin’s recent elevation, the rumoured one thousand pounds in the four per cents is grossly underrated.”
Elizabeth leapt to her feet, her action momentarily stunning Mr Collins. Heavy footsteps were approaching when the clergyman bent awkwardly at the knee. He grabbed the back of a chair for support, but the furniture was insufficient to carry his heavy frame, and he tumbled to the floor at the exact moment her father entered the parlour.
“What is the meaning of this?” he queried whilst frowning at the prostrate parson. “I heard raised voices and have come to investigate.”
“Mr Collins is proposing to Elizabeth,” Lady Glentworth informed her husband.
“He is shouting a proposal without her father’s consent?” Lord Glentworth looked incredulously at his wife.
“Yes indeed,” she confirmed.
Lord Glentworth’s expression was black when he ordered Mr Collins to his feet and to accompany him to his study without delay. The ladies listened in stunned silence as the patriarch admonished his cousin the entire way to his book room. “I suppose the announcement in last evening’s newspaper has greatly enhanced your admiration for my daughter. Henceforth, you are to address me as Lord Glentworth, my wife as Lady Glentworth, and my daughters with the title ‘lady’ before their names. I expect you to show all of them the same deference as you do your patroness. That includes having the decency to ask for the consent of the father of a lady not yet of age. I can assure you that I shall never give it!”
“Lady Glentworth,” her mother whispered. “How well that sounds. Oh, I do hope Henry is well.”
“I would suppose so, or Father would have been the Marquess of Limerick,” Elizabeth assured her mother. “I dare say Uncle Henry is tired of waiting for Papa to join him in town and has browbeaten the Prince Regent into elevating him.”
“I do hope you are correct,” Lady Glentworth replied, hastening after her husband.
Elizabeth escaped to the garden where Charlotte was approaching from the path to Lucas Lodge.
They greeted each other warmly but remained quiet for a moment while raised voices from her father’s study drifted through the windowpanes.
“I have come to enquire how you are faring after the ball, Eliza.” Charlotte looked at her with concern written on her countenance. “I know Mr Darcy offended you, but you would be a fool not to acknowledge the attention he has since bestowed upon you. He danced only with you at the ball, which must mean that his opinions have changed.”
Elizabeth waved her handkerchief before Charlotte in a gesture to beg for a truce. “I am sorry, Charlotte, but I have more pressing matters to address.”
“Of more consequence than securing a wealthy gentleman?” Charlotte protested.
Elizabeth laughed. Even Charlotte, as with most sensible people, did have moments of utter ridiculousness.
“Infinitely more consequence,” Elizabeth assured her friend. “Mainly to avoid an undesirable match.”
Charlotte gazed at the window of Lord Glentworth’s study, from which pieces of the heated conversation could be discerned. The voices alternated between Lord Glentworth, Mr Collins, and Lady Glentworth.
“Perhaps I may be of service to you,” Charlotte suggested.
“You may as long as the favour does not include Mr Darcy,” Elizabeth allowed.
