Page 68 of A Most Beloved Sister
Upon hearing their footsteps, the matron placed her hands on her hips and spun around to face them. The retort she meant to throw at them died before it could leave her lips when she spied the scowl on her husband’s face.
“Good Lord, Frances. What on earth were you thinking, promising my buffoon of a cousin that Elizabeth would marry him? Did she not already refuse to leave Netherfield in place of Lydia because she was caring for Jane? Is she not your most obstinate, headstrong daughter?”
Mrs. Bennet began to defend herself, but Mr. Bennet cut her off. “Even if she were willing to accept such a proposal, when did the laws of England reverse themselves and give the mother precedence over the father? Am I not the master of my home? Do I not have the guardianship of my children? Does not the holy Bible itself give me the responsibility to rule over my home?”
Once again, Mrs. Bennet tried to protest, but Mr. Bennet refused to allow it. “No, madam, for once in your life, you will allow me to be the one to speak! You have proven yourself to be the most unfit, unnatural of all mothers. Forcing Jane into the rain and putting her life at risk, and now placing Elizabeth in the hands of a relative stranger without so much as a word to me, her father. This has gone far enough, madam, and I will have no more of it!”
Mr. Bennet punctuated his last statement with a hard flick of his riding crop, which snapped loudly. For the first time that Elizabeth could remember, her mother fell silent. Indeed, Mrs. Bennet’s face went so pale Elizabeth thought her mother was in true danger of falling prey to a fit of the vapors. She took a step forward and reached out to steady the swaying woman, who looked down at her daughter’s arm and gasped at the lurid marks.
“He… he did this to you?”
Elizabeth nodded, and Mrs. Bennet let out a noise that was halfway between a sob and a howl, then tore out of the room. Astonished, Mr. Bennet and Elizabeth looked at one another for several moments before turning and hurrying after the distraught woman.
By the time they reached the hall, Mrs. Bennet had raced towards the front door, her skirts lifted up to her knees to hasten her progress. She ignored their calls and flung herself into the waiting carriage that had brought her and Mr. Collins from Longbourn. The suddenness of her arrival spooked the horses, who reared back and began to make their way home.
The coachman, who had been dozing off at his place in the box, was startled awake when Netherfield’s door was banged open by Mrs. Bennet’s exit. He looked frantically around for guidance when she began shouting her demand from inside the carriage to return home, and he accepted Mr. Bennet’s wave of approval with relief and the tip of his hat.
“I suppose I had best follow her home,” Mr. Bennet said with a decided lack of enthusiasm. “Who knows what sorts of chaos she might cause if I leave her unchecked like this?”
“But what about me?” wailed Mr. Collins, who had been watching the coach drive away.
“I suppose Mr. Bingley’s stablemaster could saddle a horse for you,” suggested Mr. Bennet.
“A horse?” Mr. Collins recoiled, aghast. “I do not ride!”
“Well, then I suggest you begin walking towards Longbourn. I will send the carriage back for you.”
“Perhaps I could wait here with my betrothed—”
“Let me make one thing perfectly understood,” interrupted Mr. Bennet harshly. “You are most certainlynotengaged to my Elizabeth. Mrs. Bennet was quite mistaken in the matter, and Elizabeth has other demands on her affections of which her mother does not have knowledge. It is impossible for her to accept your attentions. Is that understood?”
Mr. Collins blanched. “Yes, quite understood!”
He turned and bowed awkwardly at Elizabeth. “My sincerest apologies, cousin, for the misunderstanding. Had I been aware that your affections were otherwise engaged, I would never have dared to have presumed to impose upon you.”
She blinked at his continued rambling for several minutes before interrupting him. “Yes, thank you, Mr. Collins. I accept your apology with all my heart.”
“You are too good, too gracious! Indeed, your charity and magnanimity are second only to my benevolent patroness, the great Lady Catherine de Bourgh, whose condescension and—”
“Yes, yes, that is all very good,” interjected Mr. Bennet, “but I believe you might wish to start making your way towards Longbourn now, or else you will not get very far before it grows too dark to see.”
Mr. Collins’s eyes widened, and he looked around in no small panic towards the setting sun. He gave another graceless bow to Elizabeth, then turned his large frame towards the road and began an uncoordinated trot in the opposite direction of Longbourn.
Elizabeth watched with amazement at her oaf of a cousin’s lumbering while Mr. Bennet let out a snort. “I suppose I had bestpoint him in the right direction, lest I find myself the subject of an inquiry should he not survive the night.”
“Papa, you told him my affections were engaged elsewhere?” Elizabeth finally asked her father the question that had been weighing on her mind for the last several minutes.
“Why, yes! Does not your dear sister Jane currently command all your love and devotion? Are you not dedicated to her care, especially now that she is reaching the end of her time with us?”
Not knowing whether to laugh or to cry, Elizabeth gave her father a teary smile. “Thank you, Papa. Thank you for coming.”
“I am only sorry I could not protect you from my cousin’s brutality. Be assured, your mother will feel the full force of my displeasure.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “I do not think either of them truly intended any real harm, Papa. Mr. Collins is simply… simple. And as for Mama, well, I do not think she thought him capable of causing physical trauma. ’Tis naught but some bruises, and they will heal soon enough. As long as they cease to think of me as a potential marriage partner for him, I shall be content.”
“They shall, I assure you,” Mr. Bennet replied grimly.
With a final farewell, Elizabeth watched her father mount his horse and ride off towards Mr. Collins, who had only made it some yards down the road before he had stopped to double over and catch his breath. Before she entered the house, she made sure—admittedly, with some amusement—that the large, cumbersome young parson had turned around and was currently on the correct course towards Longbourn.
