Chaos Comes To Kent Read online

  “Oh, aye,” said Lydia. “I would not wish to go to Kent, even if Mr. Collins lived in a palace. Not when the officers are still in Meryton.”

  “I will ask you, Mrs. Bennet,” said Mr. Bennet, “not to dictate my response to my cousin.”

  Mrs. Bennet blinked, and the chagrin in her countenance suggested that she only now realized that she had overstepped her bounds. It was all Elizabeth could do not to shake her head; had her mother truly listened to what the letter said without prejudice, Elizabeth was certain her response would have been quite the opposite.

  “As for you, Lydia,” said Mr. Bennet, turning his attention on the youngest sister, “I will thank you to hold your tongue as well. If I decide we are to visit my cousin, we will visit him. I care not for the officers, and I dare say you can do without them for the space of a few weeks.”

  Lydia glared back at her father, but Kitty leaned over and said in a whisper: “If we are gone for some time, it will only make the officers faint with longing for our society.”

  The notion seemed to please Lydia, little though she appreciated the prospect of being without the officers’ company for an extended period. She held her tongue, however, which was about all the rest of the family could hope for.

  “Mrs. Bennet,” said Mr. Bennet, “I believe you have not apprehended the potential benefits of accepting Mr. Collins’s invitation. He has spoken of an olive branch extended to us, and at the very least, if he is known to you, I would think he would be less likely to arrange for your residence in the hedgerows as soon as may be upon my demise. Furthermore, there is a possibility of tying him even further to our family, which would almost certainly negate the prospect of your ever seeing the inside of one of those insidious bushes completely.”

  “Of what do you speak, Mr. Bennet?” asked his wife, frowning in her lack of understanding.

  “Just this, Mrs. Bennet,” said Mr. Bennet, once again lifting the letter from the table. He once again read over the pertinent passages, emphasizing Mr. Collins’s words about olive branches, restitution, and admiration.

  When comprehension finally came to Mrs. Bennet, it was akin to the dawn breaking over the hills, illuminating all in its path with the renewal of day.

  “Oh, what an excellent thing, Mr. Bennet!” exclaimed she. “I had not understood his reference at first, but now that you have explained it, it makes perfect sense, indeed.”

  “I am happy to have been able to affect this transformation of your feelings,” was Mr. Bennet’s sardonic reply. “May I assume, therefore, that you have decided to relax your stricture against my intention to respond in the affirmative concerning our willingness to attend to Mr. Collins in Kent?”

  “Of course, you may!” said Mrs. Bennet, completely missing the irony in his voice as was her custom.

  “But, Mama!” cried Lydia, still not giving up. “The officers!”

  “The officers will still be here on our return, my love. And Kitty’s suggestion is a good one—no doubt they will pine for you in your absence, and what is better than to make a man love you and increase his yearning by suspense?”

  “What can be better, indeed?” echoed Mr. Bennet. Elizabeth could easily discern that though her father had enjoyed the scene, he was quickly tiring of it and longed to return to his library.

  The meal continued in a relatively subdued fashion, for though the matter had been decided, not everyone in the family was in raptures over the possible amusement. As Elizabeth knew from her father’s maps that Westerham was some distance from London, there would not be much in the way of amusement for young ladies of Kitty and Lydia’s ilk, though they certainly did not understand that fact yet themselves. Elizabeth had no objection to it, and she thought a change of scenery would be good for her dearest sister after her recent disappointment.

  Her mother was, it seemed, already scheming to ensure that Mr. Collins did his duty by them and offered for one of her daughters. It was no surprise that not all her daughters were created equal, as evidenced by the muttering Elizabeth could hear, something her mother often did, and in a voice louder than she realized.

  “We must do all we can to ensure we catch him, for then I shall never be required to leave Longbourn. Jane could certainly succeed, of course, but she is too beautiful for the likes of a parson, and my Lydia too lively. One of the middle girls will suffice. Kitty and Lizzy are handsome enough, and Mary might not be a complete disappointment, as she is pious enough for a parson’s wife. Yes, Lizzy, Mary, or Kitty will do nicely.”

  As important as Elizabeth thought it to respect one’s parents and obey them, for her part she appreciated her mother’s sentiment, but was determined to decline her portion of the benefits. With nothing more than his letter, Mr. Collins had proven his unsuitability to be her husband, and she had not the least intention of accepting a proposal should he deign to make one.

  As it happened, Elizabeth had the opportunity to speak with her father later that evening to hear his thoughts on the recently discussed subject, and she was not at all surprised by his comments.

  “Oh, I think it is quite clear that Mr. Collins is a fool to the highest degree,” said her father when she raised the subject in his book room. “That and the fact that his patroness promises to be equally absurd suggests it will be an enjoyable visit, indeed.”

  “Papa,” said Elizabeth, her tone faintly admonishing, “is it for nothing more than the enjoyment of laughing at a stupid man that you have agreed to attend him in Kent?”

  Mr. Bennet had the grace to look a little shamefaced; indeed, Elizabeth was the only one of his family who was allowed such liberties, though she knew her disapproval had no real effect on his character.

  “Well . . . not entirely.” Mr. Bennet paused and attempted to smile at her. “It would be beneficial to be acquainted with the future master of the estate, would you not agree?”

  “I would, Papa,” said Elizabeth.

  “Then it is settled. He might even be an acceptable husband for one of you; he is sure to be easily led, after all. I have many letters from the man, all proclaiming his character with every word he has committed to paper. In fact, with her own brand of pomposity, I suspect that Mary might do quite well with him.”

  “And his parsonage?” asked Elizabeth. “I am certain that this Hunsford is likely a greater house than our own parsonage, but will Mr. Collins have the wherewithal to house seven additional people in his home?”

  “He assures me that is the case.” Mr. Bennet chuckled. “In fact, I suspect he has had this invitation in mind for some time now, for he has shared the details of his home with me several times. It is not the size of Longbourn, of course, but it sounds like it is quite comfortable. I would suggest that Mr. Collins is almost lonely in his present circumstances, if I did not suspect that he spends a large part of each day paying homage to his patroness.”

  “Then I suppose there can be no objection. Though Kitty and Lydia will complain, I do not doubt it is a good thing that they will be removed from the influence of the militia. Their behavior is becoming so objectionable that I fear for our reputations.”

  “Their characters are well known in Meryton, Lizzy,” said Mr. Bennet, his tone faintly reproving. “I doubt their actions would ruin your reputation, unless one of them actually managed to entice one of the officers into her bed.”

  “Papa!” exclaimed Elizabeth. “Do not speak such things!”

  “It is hardly likely, Elizabeth. These officers are eager to flirt with empty-headed young ladies, but there is not a man among them who is not wary of the consequences of being forced into a marriage with a girl who can bring him little wealth. Do you think Denny or Wickham, in all their elevated opinions of themselves and obvious desire for a life of ease, would waste their attentions on girls who cannot supply them with such benefits? Of course not, as Wickham has amply proven with his pursuit of Mary King. And even Kitty and Lydia, silly and flirtatious as they are, would not stoop to such levels
of behavior.”

  “That is not the point, Papa. Jane and I do what we can to curb their behavior, but you know Mama sees nothing wrong with it. They must be corrected, or they will bring us all ridicule. What will this Lady Catherine think of them?”

  “I suspect she will be too caught up in her own munificence to pay them much attention.”

  As it was a lost cause, Elizabeth decided surrender was the only option. “I hope so, Papa.”

  The preparations for the family’s departure began and the sense of anticipation, which always manifest itself before a journey, settled over them all. Even Kitty and Lydia, who were, as expected, unexcited about the prospect of leaving their friends and—more importantly—the officers behind, began to show at least a hint of curiosity for what their journey into Kent might bring.

  Elizabeth was not looking forward to the journey itself, truth be told. The Bennet family possessed only one carriage, and though it was a serviceable conveyance, it was not truly comfortable for a journey any longer than the distance between London and their aunt and uncle’s residence on Gracechurch Street near Cheapside in London. This sojourn was to take them much further, as Hunsford was as far away from Gracechurch Street as Gracechurch Street was from Longbourn. It was truly a blessing that they would stop and stay with Aunt and Uncle Gardiner for one day, for spending a full day in a coach with her silly sisters and mother, seven people seated on seats which were not even truly designed to hold six, would test her equanimity to its limits.

  Due to necessity, Mr. Bennet’s valet and the one maid who would accompany them on their journey, would travel by post and would arrive a day before the family themselves. The top of the carriage would be stuffed with their trunks and possessions and as the amount of luggage they meant to take accumulated, Elizabeth wondered if the slightest gust would not tip the vehicle over.

  One evening, a little more than a week before their scheduled departure, Elizabeth had the opportunity to speak with her eldest sister, Jane, concerning the upcoming amusement. In addition, she was able to settle herself concerning Jane’s state of mind.

  “You have been quiet about our upcoming journey, Sister,” said Elizabeth as they braided each other’s hair in preparation for retiring.

  “I am not against it, Lizzy,” replied Jane. “In fact, I am convinced that a bit of diversion will help my overall state of mind.”

  “Oh?” asked Elizabeth. “Is there some part of you that still pines after Mr. Bingley?”

  An expression of mild exasperation came over Jane, as cross as Elizabeth had ever seen her sister. “I have asked you not to speak of Mr. Bingley,” said Jane.

  “I realize that, dearest. Though you might prefer not to speak of the man, I would appreciate the benefit of having my fears for your equanimity eased. Shall you not share with me what is in your heart?”

  Jane sighed. “I would never wish to unsettle you, Lizzy. The truth is, though I will own that I was heartbroken by Mr. Bingley’s defection, I feel that I am much recovered. Staying in Kent for some weeks can only help, in my opinion.”

  “I still believe, if you had gone to London with Aunt and Uncle Gardiner after Christmas, you might have been able to see Mr. Bingley again. At least, then, you would know if he does not care or if his sisters have been conspiring against you.”

  But Jane only shook her head. It was one of the few times in Elizabeth’s memory where she and Jane had been at odds with differences of opinion. There were always times in which they disagreed, but this one had descended into an argument which had left them nursing grieved feelings against each other for a few days the previous winter.

  “I will not chase after a man like a common barmaid, Lizzy. It is Mr. Bingley’s responsibility to make his intentions known and to carry through with them.”

  “But a woman must give a man some encouragement. I would not have considered going to London to be chasing him. Rather it would have shown him, in a manner which could not be misinterpreted, that your feelings were engaged.”

  “And his sisters?”

  Elizabeth grimaced. Jane’s reminder was well stated, though it had taken Elizabeth quite some time to persuade her sister to her opinion of the Bingley sisters’ perfidy. “Yes, you are correct, of course. His sisters would see it as a desperate woman chasing after their brother’s wealth.”

  “That is why I did not go.”

  “It is likely for the best,” said Elizabeth, waving the subject off with some irritation. “If Mr. Bingley is that inconstant, then he would not suit you. You would forever be fighting with Miss Bingley for control over your own home, and if he is ruled by her, you would have little assistance there.”

  “True,” replied Jane. “Then we shall continue on as we were. I still have hope. Somewhere in the world, I believe there is a man who would suit me, and who would do everything in his power to assure me of his regard.”

  With a smile, Elizabeth gathered her dearest sister into a warm embrace. “I am certain there must be, Jane. And I am equally certain you shall find him.”

  Chapter II

  Their preparations completed, the family soon departed for Kent. The journey was made in two easy steps, as originally planned, the first four and twenty miles to Uncle Gardiner’s house where they stayed the night, and the final distance the next day. As Elizabeth had anticipated, the division of the journey into two days was the only thing which made it tolerable for all involved. Being the slightest of the sisters, Elizabeth, Mary, and Kitty sat on the forward-facing bench, with the more ample-figured Jane on the far side, which left Lydia to sit on the other bench with their parents. But even then, they were cramped almost beyond endurance, to say nothing of the constant chatter and laughter from Lydia and Kitty, with the willing encouragement of their mother.

  At times, her father, exasperated with the continual noise and bother of certain members of his family, took himself to the top of the carriage to ride with the driver. But that was not a comfortable situation for either the driver or Mr. Bennet, and it would not be long before he once again entered into the carriage for as long as he could endure and the cycle repeated itself again.

  At length, however, the miles of their journey to Kent fell behind them, and they turned onto a road which led toward a large estate in the distance. The signs of spring were evident everywhere they passed. The trees had only begun to show signs of their summer bounty on their bare branches, and the fields, to respond to the renewed warmth of the sun with wildflowers and green shoots of new growth. Elizabeth longed to sample the bounty which was laid out before her.

  In the distance, Elizabeth could see a large building rising over a swell in the land, ruling over it like a monolith loomed over everything in its shadow. It was too far distant to obtain any details, but it was obviously a great estate manor, the house seeming to be many times larger than the house in which she had been raised. It was Rosings Park, the home of Mr. Collins’s patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. Elizabeth was not anticipating making the lady’s acquaintance, given what she had heard about her vicariously through Mr. Collins’s letters to her father.

  On the other side of the road stood a strand of trees blowing in the breeze, and amidst that strand stood a much more modest abode, a country parsonage, it seemed, constructed of the usual stone and wood, its walls bleached, its roof steeply gabled. It was to this house the carriage driver finally turned off the road, easing the horses to a stop before the front door. And there, in front of the entrance, stood a man, dressed in black clothes and a clerical collar.

  When the carriage was settled, the family busied themselves with descending from its cramped confines, and as such it was some few moments before Elizabeth was able to obtain any impression of the young man. Her father exited, and he assisted in turn his wife, then Elizabeth and her sisters, in the order of who was situated closest to the door. As a result, Elizabeth was the last of her sisters to debark, and upon doing so, she stood with her family, facing their h
ost of the ensuing weeks.

  If Elizabeth was aware of her most blatant failing, it was her propensity to judge on first impression, and the immovability of that judgment thereafter. She had attempted to correct that fault within herself, though she still fell back on it at times. That day, arriving in Kent and being introduced to the master of the parsonage at which she was to stay, Elizabeth could not help but be tempted to surrender to that vice.

  Mr. Collins was not a handsome man; Elizabeth was prepared to forgive him of that flaw without reservation, as not all men were particularly handsome. He was tall but portly, his face round and pudgy, and his hair, greasy and lank, hung about his head like the mop fixed on the head of a scarecrow. Further interaction—colored, no doubt, by what her father had learned of his character—did not improve her impression of the man, for he bowed low to them all and expressed his gratitude and pleasure at their introduction with a plethora of words, fit for a Shakespearean comedy rather than the reunion of two long-estranged branches of a family.

  “My dear Mr. Bennet,” said he, his voice solemn and his air grave. “I am most happy to make your acquaintance and cannot state in language animated enough how pleased I am to have you all visit my humble abode. As my patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, likes to say, ‘Words cannot express the importance of family ties.’ Our reunion must have been ordained from on high, for I feel such a sublime rapture at our meeting as to render me utterly without any means of expressing myself.”

  Having said this, Mr. Collins proceeded to give lie to his words, for he greeted each of the members of the Bennet family in turn, speaking in language almost obscene in its verbosity the same sentiments he had expressed to Mr. Bennet only moments before. The whole scene was so comical that Elizabeth could not help but make an observation.

  “I can see you are happy to see us, sir,” said Elizabeth when he had said some words to her. “In fact, if the sublimity of your feelings inspires you to such heights of rapture, then no loss of words can ever possibly take hold.”