A Virtue of Marriage Read online

  Approaching the parsonage, Elizabeth could see heavy smoke rising from the chimney, telling her the kitchen staff of two was awake and well. She motioned for Peter to follow her through the small herb garden to the side door and wait for her on the stoop.

  Cook promptly assisted Elizabeth as soon as she stepped in the door with the removal of her shawl, deference Elizabeth always appreciated from her one ally in the home.

  “Missus, you would not believe! Eileen found six eggs this morn, the chickens are healed!”

  Elizabeth rolled her eyes and washed her hands in the basin near the sink just for this purpose. “It was less the chickens than a hungry family.”

  Cook's eyes widened at the threat of treacherous theft, but Elizabeth approached the older woman and patted her arm.

  “All is well. But please, gather any food and supplies we can spare until Charlotte and I go to market tomorrow. Give them to the young boy outside the door as quickly as you can.” Elizabeth smoothed her work dress and debated if she should retire upstairs to try and clean up further or just wait until later when she was to visit Anne de Bourgh with Charlotte. “We have a Christian duty to uphold.”

  On this last proclamation, Mr. Collins appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, inquisitive to his cousin's health. As she replied in the positive, he next asked her about the Christian duty she was most involved in this morning by her conversation with Cook.

  Elizabeth expertly gave a slight nod to reinforce her pleas and escorted her cousin to the dining room where they joined his wife Charlotte to take their breakfast together. As she poured herself a cup of tea, she decided fortune favored the bold and asked Mr. Collins about the Holbein family. Perhaps he was unaware of how dire their predicament truly stood.

  “Ah, the recusants. Have no fear Cousin Elizabeth, Lady Catherine and I are hard at work on removing their non-conforming family from the haven of our lands so that a more deserving family might benefit from the magnificent bounty of the Rosings.”

  Elizabeth nearly dropped her cup, but recovered well enough to make it to the table and sit down. Her head was spinning. The poor family she met only this morning was to endure more hardship, and at the hands of her bombastic cousin? Her kin? No, no it could not come to pass!

  “But the father of the family is gravely ill, he broke his back last year in your service! Surely allowances must be made for their lack of attendance at church services.” Elizabeth had no doubt with the last name, they were likely Catholic. But still, she had to hope that with proper guidance and encouragement, they could convert. After all, they left their homeland to live so far away; surely their plan was to conform before John Holbein's accident.

  “They failed to make their rent payments last quarter and Mr. Hobbs informed me earlier this week they have not paid this quarter's and have no intention to settle their debts. An eviction notice is underway.” Mr. Collins calmly opened his napkin as the breakfast dishes arrived to the table from the kitchen and he dug into his simple omelet with abandon.

  Usually disgusted by her cousin's lack of table manners, Elizabeth sat more appalled at the fate to befall the Holbein family. She picked at her breakfast, despite being very hungry earlier.

  “Remember we are to read to Miss de Bourgh this afternoon, Lizzie? She finds such comfort in the sermons.” Charlotte tried to change the subject but she was too late. Mr. Collins interjected his own investigation.

  “How did you come to know of the Holbein family? And why is there a bandage on your hand?” Mr. Collins did not wait to swallow his food before interrogating his cousin as to her whereabouts that morning.

  “I was collecting eggs from the coop when I met their son, Peter, looking for work in exchange for food.” Elizabeth lied, but also revealed a truth to her cousin. “I told him I would gladly see he could perform chores for food and I accompanied him home to learn the situation of the family for myself, to ensure there was not more help we needed to offer.”

  “You walked across two fields and the woods to their cottage?”

  Elizabeth nodded, knowing she was forbidden to take such a ramble without informing her cousin, but decided it to be better for her to take on the transgression than to reveal young Peter's lack of morality.

  “Well I am astonished, my cousin, that again, you would directly disobey me.” Mr. Collins wiped his mouth with his hand before pounding his fist on the table. “I am already confirmed that my gross negligence of your manners and behaviors has led to Lady Catherine's extreme displeasure in your reputation.”

  Elizabeth perhaps should have winced if she had felt a true shame for her love of Fitzwilliam Darcy, but as she did not, she didn't feel any guilt towards a scandalous affair that had yet to occur. Her lack of repentance while a great mark towards her lack of practice in deception was a less than encouraging sign to Mr. Collins.

  “It appears you need further reminder that in this household, you are expected to behave with the highest modicum of propriety. That as a parson's relation, and under my protection, you may not traipse about the countryside as some country miss without a responsibility in the world– ”

  “But Cousin Collins, I felt a responsibility to the family on your glebe lands. I did not know you were in the process of evicting them from their cottage, though it pains my sensibilities to see children so hungry.”

  Elizabeth had miscalculated. She did not know the upbraiding Mr. Collins experienced from Lady Catherine over her mere arrival at Rosings and the apparent warning of her clear moral failings her disappointment represented. To interrupt her cousin, while never an acceptable behavior, but one he had overlooked in the past when she played missish to his words and not his intent, pushed him over the edge.

  “Mr. Collins—” Charlotte tried to speak, but he held his hand up and his wife, knowing better, obeyed.

  Mr. Collins stood up and leaned over the table with both hands on either side of this plate, his knuckles white. “Elizabeth Bennet, you are on the precipice of damnation with your sins against this household, our esteemed patroness Lady Catherine, and God himself. I am remiss in my duty as your nearest male relation and pastor of this flock if I did not take a strong hand with you to correct your ways.”

  Elizabeth sat in shock at the man before her. Mr. Collins always held a healthy dose of the ridiculous in him, but never had she ever anticipated him to actually act the brute! The nature of this conversation was alarming indeed, and she lacked the skills to thwart it, as her father had never so much as scolded her aside from laughing at her expense.

  Staring down at her plate appeared to have some effect on Mr. Collin's tirade of Scripture and other sermon notes about a dutiful woman's place in the world. In all honesty, her panics prevented her from listening further and instead assess her current limited options. If she raised the alarm now, all would be for naught. The Archbishop would not arrive for another four days' time.

  “As ultimate responsibility falls to me for your very salvation, I believe you shall spend the day in your room without meals until tomorrow to finally accept your new place in the world as a poor relation reliant upon the generosity of your betters. And to consider the ramifications of your actions when you act without your family's approval and therefore the approval of the Divine.”

  Elizabeth's involuntary smirk was ill-timed, as even she could not believe this man truly believed she considered him, a distant cousin she had never met until last year, to represent her father's authority.

  “You may begin now.” Mr. Collins pushed himself away from the table and stood to brook no argument from Elizabeth, but that did not stop her from trying.

  “I am to read to Miss de Bourgh today, surely you do not wish me to dissatisfy Lady Catherine . . . ”

  “I have no doubt the magnanimous Lady Catherine will applaud this intervention as she has pressed upon me the need to curtail your headstrong ways before they make me the laughingstock of the neighborhood.”

  Elizabeth had no choice but to serve out this ridic
ulous penance for a transgression she would never repent, but considered the days of goodwill she should reap from her cousin in granting him this one day of false obedience. After all, it's not obedience if one is compelled to comply.

  “Please send my regret to Miss de Bourgh and her cousins if you visit Rosings today.” Elizabeth looked to Charlotte, whose face was paler than freshly laundered linens. As Charlotte's lips trembled, Elizabeth blew out a quick breath in a whistling motion to signal all was well. Disappointment finally displayed on Elizabeth's face as she truly desired to visit with her Mr. Darcy whom she had not seen in two days.

  “I most certainly shall, and remember dear cousin, excel in this to show me you acknowledge your place and you may perhaps visit the illustrious Rosings tomorrow.”

  As Elizabeth took each step slowly, still in shock she was in truth being sent to her room for disobedience like a child, each lifted foot reinforced that she would never have survived a marriage to this man. Furthermore, if she couldn't have survived, she had to find a way out of this disastrous union for Charlotte. Near the top of the stairs, Elizabeth comforted herself that her prison was to be her room where she had a novel, letters, and most importantly a lock on the door.

  As she entered the room and swiftly turned the key to keep her meddling cousin from any second thoughts or lectures of her behavior, a deep rumble echoed in Elizabeth's belly. She was hungry, and for today, she would suffer those pangs in careful fasting for the plight of the Holbein family, who she vowed to see to happier times before rescuing her knight, Mr. Darcy.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Charlotte Collins' somber expression immediately deflated the jubilant mood of her friend Miss Anne de Bourgh. Charlotte bit her lower lip as Anne craned her neck to look for the arrival of Charlotte's particular friend.

  "Miss Elizabeth?" Anne asked.

  Charlotte slowly shook her head. "She pushed Mr. Collins too far, I'm afraid, and he ordered her locked in her room."

  Anne's mouth dropped in horror at such treatment for a guest, even if she was a relation to Mr. Collins. But more than that, Anne knew they must hide Elizabeth's fate from her cousin, Mr. Darcy. Unfortunately, Anne had no time to explain the matter to Charlotte before a maid carrying refreshments entered her bedroom, followed by her cousin, himself.

  Darcy bowed elegantly to the ladies and did his best to hide his own furtive glances around the room; realizing one of the ladies he expected to be in this room was not present.

  "Mrs. Collins, I hope you do not mind I have taken the liberty to order some refreshments for your visit. I am afraid my aunt has been too distracted at times to offer proper courtesy to the guests of this home."

  "Thank you, Mr. Darcy. I am certain your selections for comfort are very fine, indeed,” Charlotte answered.

  Anne took a deep breath and concentrated in speaking with a steady tone. "Mrs. Collins was just explaining to me of how her friend, Miss Bennet, came down with a rather nasty headache this morning and has decided to spend the day resting in her rooms."

  Darcy looked quickly between the two ladies, concern creased in the wrinkles of his forehead. Charlotte looked to Anne for some sign of what to do about this blatant falsehood, and why on earth was she lying to Mr. Darcy about Elizabeth? Thankfully, Charlotte Collins was a smart woman and more pieces of her friend's mystery mission began to fall into place. However, now was not the time to inquire further, so instead, Charlotte continued the charade.

  "Yes, I'm afraid my friend did come down with a slight ache to her head, but I cannot be for certain it was not at least minorly exacerbated by perhaps some of the mannerisms of her own kin." Charlotte smiled and hoped Mr. Darcy would not think worse of her for speaking ill of her own husband. Instead, the man seemed to understand.

  "Did your friend mention anything about wishing to visit Rosings later in her visit? I only ask because I know my cousin is most anxious to meet the woman I nearly killed with my horse. Thanks to my cousin Richard, it's become a bit of a famous story." The usually reserved Mr. Darcy nodded with a smile in his eyes for Anne who rapidly clapped her hands in appreciation.

  "Yes, and Richard Fitzwilliam and I played the most delightful card game I am told she taught my sour cousin while he paid penance for his stupidity. Racing the horse on a public road, it's what you've always been warned about."

  Charlotte nodded noncommittally and that seemed to be enough to soothe Mr. Darcy's inquiry. Still, with such easy manners between the men and women presumed to wed as soon as may be, Charlotte felt uneasy that such a serious question somehow involved her friend.

  As a silence descended the room, Darcy realized he had been blocking the door for the poor maid stuck standing there, looking down at the carpets, during this entire conversation that did not include her. The poor little mouse did not dare to ask the great man to move out of her way, and Darcy's cheeks slightly reddened. "I believe I have overstayed my welcome, ladies, please. Please enjoy your novel, and know that hopefully more than a chapter or two might be read today."

  "Fitzwilliam, how so?" Anne asked, before suffering a small coughing fit.

  "Richard has invited the parson to the library for drinks. He doesn't believe me how utterly ridiculous the man can truly be." Darcy gave his cousin a sly wink and bowed once more to exit the room.

  No sooner had Anne watched the door close than Mrs. Collins began to fret and wring her hands in front of her.

  "Whatever is the matter, Charlotte? Don't worry, they will keep him occupied as they say."

  Charlotte shook her head. "You don't understand. My husband will boast about bringing his Cousin Elizabeth in line to her ladyship's expectations. He will boast that he is starving her all day today and I'm afraid of what Mr. Darcy might do."

  Anne de Bourgh's stomach felt hollow as she considered the significance of Charlotte's fears. While Charlotte only suspected a tendre existed between Mr. Darcy and her friend, Anne knew for certain. Placing her fingertips to her forehead, she pretended to swoon.

  “Anne!”

  Peeking her eye open, she winked at Charlotte. “Go! Tell them I fainted, I can't possibly be read to today.”

  “But—” Charlotte looked confused.

  “Darcy loves Elizabeth. If your husband tells him he locked her up, there will be violence. Go!”

  Charlotte didn't need any further encouragement. She darted out of the room and rushed down the stairs, feeling her lungs struggle with the sudden exertion. Breathless, she came upon the gentlemen in the library looking a pure fright.

  “Mr. Darcy! Anne has fainted.” As Charlotte leaned on the doorframe for support, she observed it wasn't Mr. Darcy that first jumped up. It was the Colonel. And the man who did not move from his comfortable chair was her own husband, who instead looked more like a deer hearing a gunshot. Charlotte caught her breath and moved out of the way so that Mr. Darcy could also leave the room, and for a brief moment, she wondered the joy she might have in widowhood if Mr. Darcy had killed her husband.

  Chapter Sixteen

  All of Meryton society seemed to enjoy the first dinner party thrown by the Bingley’s so much so; it felt as if the wedding festivities merely continued five months after the couple's nuptials in the small village. Despite her mother's strongest attempts, her well-practiced eldest daughter appealed to her father for assistance in sending the Bennet family home at nearly two in the morning.

  Exhausted, the two Bingley women agreed to Charles' invitation to the parlor for a quick nightcap.

  “Charles, you cannot be serious to consider another year here. Please tell me you will give up the lease.” Caroline accepted a glass of sherry from her brother and wrinkled her nose at her brief sniff of the odor.

  “Caroline, this is Jane's home. We've spoken about your attitude. Why did you come to Hertfordshire? I thought you wished nothing more than to remain in London.”

  “Oh, well . . .” Caroline avoided her brother's question by trailing off with her eyes resting on the tired Jane Bingle
y. Sensing weakness, Caroline attacked. “What say you, dear Jane? Do you wish to keep Netherfield as your home?”

  Startled, Jane struggled to remain tactful. “That is, I do love our home. But . . . I . . .”

  Concerned, Bingley reached down for his wife's hand. “Dear, what is it? Tell me and I shall make you happy.” He kissed her hand gallantly as Caroline rolled her eyes.

  Jane sighed. “My father and mother are so angry at Lizzie, and I worry for her. She will be alone in London as soon as she returns from Kent. And I have not had one letter from her since I sent my news.”

  Caroline Bingley carefully inspected the finishing on the chair she sat in, intently tracing the floral pattern with her finger.

  “You've had not one letter?” Charles cocked his head to one side. Elizabeth's letters arrived like clockwork when they were in Bath. It was strange indeed for no post to arrive in almost a month since they had left Bath and begun to travel; though with all of the shuffling it was possible the letters were lost.

  “Not one in weeks. And . . .” Jane looked down at the carpet, ashamed to admit her distaste for her own mother. “Once my mother knows, she will become most unbearable. I should very much like to be in London when Lizzie returns from Kent.”

  Charles Bingley frowned. He would tell the ladies of the abuse he endured from Mr. Bennet that evening when the sexes separated after dinner. But the man's rant and accusations against his closest friend, Fitzwilliam Darcy, did not sit well with the affable Bingley. Like his Jane, he desired peace. He saw no reason why the family ostracized one daughter, for no worse sin than refusing a suitor, and fawned over another.