“Almost as soon as I entered this house, I chose you as my life’s companion and mother of my children. You have accepted my attention with pleasure, so now, all that remains is the formality of your acceptance. I will procure a common license, and we may wed by week’s end, departing for Kent, as previously arranged.”
“Sir,” Elizabeth replied, her voice tight. “My father has expressly forbidden you to propose to any of his daughters. Even had he not, I found your attention most unwelcome, and have not the slightest inclination to become your wife.”
She wrenched her hand from his grasp and, when he reached for it again, struck his fingers away with a sharp slap.
“But Mrs. Bennet herself expressed delight when I revealed my intention to install you as the future mistress of Longbourn,” he protested, his jowl quivering.
“My mother does not speak for me. She never has, and she never will. Now, stand aside so that I may join my sisters.”
“You shall not dismiss me so easily.” Mr. Collins seized her arm with such force, the delicate muslin of the sleeve of her dress gave way at the shoulder. “You will be my wife or —GAH!”
Papa appeared suddenly behind him, pinching the parson’s ear between thumb and forefinger, and hauled him bodily towards the door.
“Not another word, Collins. Gather your possessions, and remove yourself from my property.”
When Mr. Collins protested, insisting Elizabeth’s reputation was in jeopardy and marriage inevitable, her father’s face darkened. He bent close to the parson’s ear, and whispered, “I am a crack shot, and still fence once a week at St. Albans. Do not test my temper. Leave while you still have a beating heart.”
All colour drained from the man’s countenance, and Mr. Collins staggered back, clutching at his sloppily tied cravat, while a footman appeared at Papa’s subtle gesture, positioning himself near the trembling clergyman.
“But, how am I to depart without a suitable conveyance?” Mr. Collins stammered; his earlier boldness having evaporated.
“Meryton is but a short walk, a little over a mile. You can drag your trunk to the posting inn, and they will provide whatever transport you require to return to Kent. I care not what you do, just get off my land before I set the dogs on you.”
“Lady Catherine will hear of this travesty!”
“And yet, I remained unmoved,” Papa said. “Now, sir, I believe you have some packing to attend to.”
Chapter Two
The clock had juststruck the three-quarter hour when Jane led their mother into the parlour, followed by their father a few minutes later.
“How are you, my dear?” Papa asked Mamma before taking the chair next to hers.
“Oh, Mr. Bennet. Such fluttering and spasms.” Her handkerchief made a reappearance. “How could you anger the one man who will throw me into the hedgerows upon your death?”
“I will admit evicting Mr. Collins from our home was not at the top of my ‘what shall I do today’ tasks. However, what I am about to share is momentous, and will change our lives forever.”
“Forever?” Mamma asked, her eyes widening with fear. “Are you dying? I cannot abide you leaving me. What would I do? I cannot go on without you.”
Their father sat next to his distraught wife, and quietly stopped the trembling in her fingers by covering her hand with his.
“I am not dying, Franny, but there has been a death in the family, and it affects us greatly.”
Elizabeth had a premonition in regard to what her father was about to impart, and was immediately saddened.
“You have news from Bedfordshire?” she asked, guessing correctly.
“I do, Lady Elizabeth,” her father said, confirming what she suspected.
Her eyes filled with unshed tears for the loss of Arthur Bennet, a distant cousin of her father as well as being the last Earl of Rumley down that side of the Bennet family. The two men had enjoyed a robust relationship through letters, and the Longbourn Bennets, without fail, visited the Tetherwood Bennets every second summer. To the delight of both Elizabeth and her father, the earl had a substantial library.
Mamma blinked twice and cocked her head, clearly not putting the pieces of the puzzle together.
“You called Lizzy, Lady Elizabeth.”
“That it is the proper way to address the daughter of an earl.” When his wife remained speechless, Papa looked about the room, taking in everyone’s looks of surprise. “I concede that my news was not presented in the manner I intended, and for that I blame the previous discourse in our breakfast room.”
“Cousin Arthur has died?” Mamma asked, her lip quivering, her eyes pooling with unshed tears. “He was always so kind to me when we visited his estate. He and the countess never made me feel unwelcome or silly.”
