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“In that case, he needs to be rubbed down, watered, and fed some oats. Just a half bucket, please. His name is Vulcan,” William instructed.

Just after the groom led Vulcan away, he knocked on the door, which was opened by a man William assumed was the butler.

“May I help you, Sir?” Hill intoned.

“I am your master’s cousin, Mr William Collins; he is expecting me to arrive today.” He hoped his cousin had not omitted telling the butler to expect a guest as some sort of jest.

“Welcome, Mr Collins, the master said you would be here at four. I will send the footman to take your trunk to your chamber.” Hill looked around. “Is the driver not here to assist the footman?”

“No, Mr…?” William began.

“Excuse me, the name is Hill, Mr Collins,” the butler revealed.

“As I was about to say, Mr Hill, it is my gig, and I drove myself, so you are looking at the driver.” William remembered the persona he was supposed to adopt here. “Is my cousin unable to afford more than one footman? At the great estate of Rosings Park, my patroness employs more than twenty.”

Hill was confused. At first, the gentleman seemed to be a pleasant man, then suddenly he switched. “I will send the other manservant to assist the footman.”

Just then the groom returned, and before he could tell the gent that his magnificent animal was in a stall, he was told to assist the footman in unlashing the trunk. Once it was lowered to the drive, he was to lead the horse and gig away, unhitch them, stable the horse, and find a place in the carriage house for the gig.

While the groom led the carriage horse pulling the gig around the back of the house, the manservant arrived and assisted the footman to take the trunk into the house.

Before they could move, William’s attention was pulled to the sound of giggling girls who were walking down the drive. He recognised them as the two silly flirts he had seen around some officers as he had guided his horse through the town.

He did not miss the moue of distaste that flitted across the butler’s face before the man schooled his features.

Kitty and Lydia, who had found another excuse to go into Meryton that day, saw the man in a clergyman’s garb. They had expected an older man who was not good-looking. They stopped in their tracks when they saw a man neither old nor homely. He was young, fit-looking, and could be called handsome. He had dark blond curls protruding from under his broad-brimmed hat. From what they could see, he was a little taller than their father.

Even with all the positives she saw, Lydia could never consider him for her husband, as he was not an officer in a scarlet coat. She whispered such to Kitty, and the two giggling girls skipped into the house.

Fighting hard not to shake his head at the two youngest Miss Bennets’ display of bad manners, Hill led Mr Collins into the entrance hall, where he took his hat, gloves, and travel coat from him. Then, he led the guest towards the study where Hill knew the master could be found. He knocked on the heavy oak door and opened it when “enter” was called out from within.

When the butler opened the door, the smell of pipe tobacco, books, and port assailed William Collins’s sense of smell. The study was a little smaller than Father’s at Collins Hollow. However, it had far more bookcases than his father’s study had. Other than where the door, fireplace, and two floor-to-ceiling windows were, the walls were covered by bookcases; none of them were empty. In fact, there were so many books that some were kept in piles on the floor behind the settee in front of the two windows due to lack of space in the bookshelves.

Even before Hill announced his visitor as Mr William Bennet Collins, Bennet knew who was before him. He looked very similar to Bennet’s late grandfather, of whom there was a portrait hanging in the small Longbourn gallery. The man before him was not the slovenly-looking clergyman he had hoped to meet; he looked fit and not yet thirty years of age. Not only that, but Bennet did not miss how his eyes took in everything. If Bennet did not know better based on the man’s letter, he would have said he saw intelligence in the man’s look. “Welcome, Mr Collins. I expected you at four; you are early,” Bennet stated.

“Do you require me to leave and return at the time you expected me to arrive?” William Collins asked diffidently.

Bennet was happy; this was the type of thing he expected the writer of the letter he had received to say. He completely missed that the statement could have been making fun of him; after all, no one, outside of Lizzy, was that intelligent as to subtly make sport of him. “No, Cousin, there is no need for that,” Bennet said condescendingly. “Hill, show Mr Collins to his chamber, and when he is ready, let me know and I will make the introductions to the family.”

With that dismissal, Hill led the guest up to the second floor and the guest chamber he had been assigned. “Would you like water to wash, Sir?” Hill asked when they arrived at the room.

“Please, I need to wash from the road, thank you, Mr Hill,” Collins stated, forgetting not to revert back to his true self.

“Hill, Mr Collins, just Hill.” The man bowed and withdrew.

~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~

“Mamma, we saw our cousin,” Lydia gushed before anyone could greet her on bursting into the drawing room.

“We saw a clergyman but were not introduced, so he may be our cousin. He is handsome, Mama,” Kitty stated. “He is taller than Papa and has dark blond hair. He is well built; we saw no trace of portliness. He smiles very well.”

“Looks are no indicator of a man’s or woman’s character,” Mary interjected primly. “Reverend Fordyce asks: ‘Are you so very vain, so very ignorant, after all the admonitions you have received, as still to construe flattery into approbation, and smiles into attachment?’ I agree…”

“Oh, Mary, who asked you?” Fanny cut her middle daughter off.

“Kitty is wrong; it is our cousin,” Lydia insisted.

“I said we do not know,” Kitty responded. “All we know from the way he was dressed is that he is a clergyman.”