“Who might marry her, though? It must be someone we can trust absolutely,” the Earl added.
“Meanwhile, shall I take her to Darcy House? The servants have been with us for decades; I trust their discretion,” Mr. Darcy said.
The Countess argued, “She has already been seen by the servants here. Why add to the exposure?”
Georgiana sat, listening to her life being rearranged. She wanted to say that she was in no hurry to marry, particularly not some stranger, but she knew she had forfeited the right to an opinion.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Charlotte hurried home from Longbourn and all but ran into the parlour. Her mother was sitting alone.
“Charlotte! Are you quite well?”
“I am, Mama, but I must tell you.”
“Wait – hand me my sewing first. No, not that. The blue waistcoat. And ring for tea, will you?”
“Mama, this is important,” Charlotte huffed in impatience.
Lady Lucas eyed her eldest daughter with something like alarm. This was not Charlotte’s usual behaviour. “Very well; what is it?”
“I have met my husband.”
Her mother stared at her. “Your – what? Who?”
“Mr. Collins.”
“The heir to Longbourn?”
“Yes.” The story poured out of her. He was not sensible, certainly, and nothing much to look at, but he was in want of a wife and had been spurned rather rudely by the Bennets.
“Help me, Mama. This is my only chance. You must speak with Papa and the boys.”
***
Mr. Collins was having a wonderful time at Lucas Lodge. All the best bits of meat had been offered to him, a second helping of potatoes had been added to his plate before he had even askedfor it, and the wine bottle had been placed directly before him. Sir Lucas and Lady Lucas listened to him respectfully, and Miss Lucas hung on his every word with wide-eyed appreciation. The younger children remained silent at the table, as was proper.
Never before had he met with such affability! And such good manners! He realised now that his own cousins, the Bennets, were a rude, disorderly family. And though the Bennet girls were, one and all, far prettier than Miss Lucas, what did that matter? Did the Lord not say that the price of a virtuous woman was above pearls? Cousin Mary had insisted it was rubies, not pearls, but she was very much mistaken.
And that was another thing. The Bennets argued with him, corrected him, even made sport of him when they thought he was not paying attention. But the Lucas family was respectful of his learning and of his position as a rector.
He had offered to lead the Bennets in prayer before dinner and this benevolent overture had been met with looks of disbelief. Tonight, he had made a similar offer to the Lucas family, and the offer had been accepted with appropriate gratitude.
He had bowed his head and watched from under his brows as the entire family followed suit. He had intoned, very solemnly, “The eyes of all do trust in Thee, O Lord, thou givest them their food in due season. Good Lord, bless us and these thy gifts. O God of peace and charity, vouchsafe always to dwell with us. Glory, honor, and praise be unto thee, O God, which hast fed us from our tender age and givest sustenance to every living thing. Replenish our hearts with joy and gladness that we, always having sufficient, may be rich and plentiful in all good works; through our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.”
And everyone had murmured “Amen” and then sat for a minute in respectful silence, waiting for him to pick up his fork and begin the meal.
There was no question in his mind. This family deserved him; the Bennet family did not. He would wed Miss Lucas as soon as may be.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Mr. Bingley’s solicitor sent a list of appointments, as Mr. Bingley had requested. He intended to see all of the suggested townhouses before making a selection. If Caroline wished to accompany him, fine. If not, even better. He very much preferred not to be near her. Dunstan’s tonic helped him relax enough to sleep, but he knew laudanum should not be taken too often. He had to get Caroline out of his life for his own well-being.
Unfortunately, his sister insisted on accompanying him. He knew that she would find something wrong with each and every situation they viewed.
After walking through the first townhouse, she had said, “Far, far too small. I cannot begin to imagine how I would entertain my friends in such a small drawing room.”
The second townhouse was, evidently, too noisy. There were – heavens! – children living on either side. How was she to tolerate that?
