Page 36 of The Lost Prophecy

Mr Bingley absorbed this warning. “Would three be more convenient?”

“I would not demand such heroic restraint.”

Jane’s cheeks coloured. Mr Bennet led her outside before Mr Bingley could rethink the interval further.

Elizabeth followed, proud of her father’s dignity, gratitude, and ability to discourage a man without diminishing his welcome. She turned to thank their hosts once more. Mr Darcy stood under the portico holding neither bowl nor book, but the intensity of his regard followed her until she entered the carriage.

Mr Bennet settled opposite his daughters as they moved away from Netherfield, Jane watching the house through the window until the trees concealed it.

Their father adjusted one glove. “I should warn you that Longbourn will soon acquire a visitor.”

Jane turned from the glass. “My aunt, Papa?”

“My cousin, Mr Collins. He is expected today.”

Elizabeth stared at him. “The pompous gentleman who wrote to you?”

“The very same. He supplied the day and the hour in his letter, and has honoured neither” Mr Bennet rested his head against the squabs. “Your mother has spent the morning preparing to welcome the man who will dispossess her. I anticipate uncommon warmth on both sides.”

The carriage turned through the gates. Longbourn came into view, peaceful and familiar, with no outward indication that a clergyman was approaching to inherit it. They stopped and the front door opened before the footman could descend from the box.

Mrs Bennet hurried down the steps with Hill behind her, bewailing Jane’s pallor before she had come near enough to inspect it. Mr Bennet handed Jane from the carriage and surrendered her to their mother, who embraced her, accused Netherfield of nearly killing her, forgetting that she was the one who sent her daughter on horseback in the rain. She then enquired whether Mr Bingley had appeared distressed when she left.

“He was very attentive, Mamma.” Jane accepted Elizabeth’s arm as they entered the house. “Everyone was exceedingly kind.”

“I am sure Mr Bingley was. Such a charming young man, and five thousand a year, although no one can say how much more. You must sit by the fire at once. Hill, tell Cook that Miss Bennet has returned. We shall require broth.”

“Mamma, I am not hungry,” Jane protested.

“Nonsense. You have been ill for ten days. You must be famished.”

After their stay at Netherfield, Elizabeth considered hunger a subject best approached with caution. She guided Jane through the entrance hall, where Lydia appeared and attempted to embrace her without reducing her speed. Kitty followed with more restraint, while Mary greeted Jane solemnly and informed her that illness offered valuable opportunities for reflection.

Only when they reached the drawing room door did Elizabeth notice the visitor awaiting them.

Mr Collins had arrived and had made himself comfortable.

He occupied the largest chair, with a plate of biscuits balanced on his knee, one halfway into his mouth. Crumbs covered the front of his coat. Another had settled on his neckcloth, where it rested securely within one of the folds.

Kitty and Lydia returned to their places on the sofa and resumed watching him with the fixed horror usually inspired by public executions. Mary went to sit near the window with a book open on her lap, but even she had ceased pretending to read.

After Netherfield, the sight of a gentleman eating with gusto ought to have reassured Elizabeth.

It did not.

Mr Collins noticed the new arrivals and attempted to rise without first setting down his plate. Two biscuits slid onto the carpet. He caught a third mid-air, pushed the remainder of the one in his hand into his mouth and stood chewing before them.

“My dear cousins.”

The words emerged through biscuit.

Mrs Bennet drew Jane farther into the room. “Jane, Lizzy, this is your cousin, Mr Collins. He arrived almost an hour ago. Mr Collins, my eldest daughters, Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth.”

Mr Collins swallowed with visible effort. His eyes travelled over Jane, paused, and then continued to Elizabeth. He placed the rescued biscuit on his plate before executing a bow of sufficient depth to endanger the remainder.

“I am enchanted to make the acquaintance of two more of my fair cousins. Your mother has already informed me of the great beauty for which Miss Bennet is celebrated throughout the neighbourhood. I perceive that no exaggeration was employed.”

Jane inclined her head. Fatigue had removed enough colour from her complexion to make the compliment particularly ill-timed.