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“Well, see you do not err in that way again,” Fanny admonished. Yes, she wanted him to marry Lizzy, but that did not mean she would allow him to intimate that her daughters were little better than servants.

William bowed his head to the placated matron. He did not miss the smirk on his cousin’s face.

After dinner, there was no separation of the sexes. Bennet went to his study, having had enough amusement for the nonce while sending his cousin to be with the ladies of the house in the drawing room.

Although his cousin’s actions were insulting to a guest in his house, William said nothing and obediently followed the ladies.

In the drawing room, Fanny called for tea while Mary went to sit at the pianoforte. Kitty and Lydia sat on one sofa with their heads together while they spoke too loudly and giggled now and again. Jane and Lizzy sat on a settee conversing quietly between them.

From what William could see, the two eldest were very close, as were the two youngest, which left Cousin Mary alone. It was little wonder she turned to texts like Fordyce’s Sermons and spent time in solitary pursuits like playing the pianoforte. He wondered if the middle Bennet sister compensated for her loneliness by chasing accomplishments, even if it did not lead to her perfecting what she was learning. He pondered if Cousin Bennet had taken the trouble of employing a music master for Cousin Mary to learn the instrument.

Once tea was poured and then consumed, Fanny turned to look at the seating arrangement in the room. ‘This will not do,’ she thought when she observed that Lizzy and Mr Collins were not near one another. “Jane, I need to speak to you,” Fanny said aloud.

Ever the obedient daughter, Jane went to her mother’s side. “Yes, Mamma?”

“Just sit in this chair,” Fanny hissed as she indicated a chair next to her. “Mr Collins, I am sure you want to sit next to my Lizzy.”

“I thank you profusely, Mrs Bennet, but I am happy where I am,” William responded. “It is a good spot to sit and hear Cousin Mary play. No offence meant to you, Cousin Elizabeth.”

Fanny was about to bite out a retort, but she stopped herself. If she angered Mr Collins, he would not offer for Lizzy. Her face showed her displeasure, but she held her peace. Not many minutes later, she chose to retire complaining of an aching head.

For her part, Elizabeth was happy Mr Collins had not acquiesced to her mother’s manipulation. That he resisted her did confuse her. It was not that she was interested in him even though he was a handsome man. Her confusion, however, was due to the assumption she had made about her cousin’s character. He was much firmer in not giving into Mamma’s machinations than she had believed he would be.

When Mary heard what Cousin Collins said, her hand faltered momentarily before she was able to carry on playing again. Mr Collins had just chosen to sit and hear her play at the instrument rather than sit next to Lizzy.

Even though Mamma said Lizzy was nothing to Jane, she did not call her plain like she did Mary. It was why Mary wore unneeded spectacles as well as why she dressed and made up her hair the way she did. If she was seen as plain, then plain she would be. She felt excluded by both her older and younger sisters. She had found a measure of comfort in the moralistic texts, like Fordyce’s sermons. At the same time, so she would stand out, Mary decided that she would be the most accomplished Bennet sister.

Men always stared at Jane; in fact, men stared at all of her sisters aside from herself, so why was Mr Collins not doing so? Mamma was clearly vexed that he had not complied with her attempt to push Mr Collins and Lizzy together. If Mary were honest with herself, she would admit that she had always wanted to be the wife of a clergyman. However, always being told how plain she was, coupled with none of her sisters wanting to hear her recitation of pearls of wisdom from the sermons she had read, had eroded her confidence to the point where she had begun to believe that no man would want to have her for a wife.

Perhaps Mr Collins just enjoyed the piece she had been performing. That was it; there was no possibility that he saw her as a prospective wife.

For the rest of the evening until supper, when Mrs Bennet did not join her family, William observed his cousins. His opinions of each of them became more informed. He decided it would be a few more days before he would allow his true character to be seen by the Bennets.

That night before he climbed into the bed in his chamber, William began a letter to his parents.

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

Based on the assumptions he had made because of the content and tone of the letter William Collins had written to him, Bennet was not as satisfied with his cousin’s visit as he had believed he would be. He had anticipated his cousin’s manners being deficient, especially at the table, but the man behaved like a gentleman.

Both the previous day during dinner and supper, and again when they broke their fast this very morning, Mr Collins’s table manners were flawless. He did not take too much food and did not speak when he was masticating. Not only that, but the man kept his mouth closed as he chewed his food and would only speak when he had swallowed what was in his mouth. No matter how many times Bennet tried to speak to his cousin while he ate, he would not rise to the bait and speak with food in his mouth.

The only amusement at dinner was when Cousin Collins made the comment about who worked in the kitchen to prepare the food, which upset Mrs Bennet very nicely.

The way Mr Collins behaved for the most part confused Bennet. Had not his father and grandfather said the Collinses were not worth knowing, as they were uneducated brutes? He remembered that he had heard his father mention the Collinses were nought but farm labourers who could not wait to get their grubby hands on Longbourn. Grandfather had claimed that it was his uncle, William Bennet’s, actions which had caused the break in the family when he rejected his family.

Suddenly something hit Bennet. If what he had been told was true, why would this Mr Collins’s father and older brother release any possible claim on Longbourn in favour of a second son? Then Bennet remembered that his grandfather and father had claimed that the reason for consigning letters from a Collins to the fire was that they were always making spurious claims on Longbourn.

Indolent he was, but Bennet enjoyed a good mystery, and what his father and grandfather had told him about the Collinses did not fit with that letter from the solicitor in Faversham nor the way Mr William Collins had behaved since his arrival the previous day.

Never once had Bennet seen him cataloguing all of his family’s property possessively. Surprisingly, there had been no avaricious looks and no mention about the quality or cost of anything.

Could it be that Father and Grandfather had been wrong?

He would think about the quandary regarding his cousin when he returned to his sanctuary. As much as he hated to leave his study, Bennet made his way to the stables to order his gelding saddled. He had put off meeting with his tenant, who farmed the largest farm that was still occupied, for too long already, and he knew he could not lose him as well as the others who had left.

Arriving at the stables, he ordered the groom to saddle Artimus. He could see the old mare, Nellie, in her stall, then he looked at the next stall, which should have been empty. It was not. Bennet approached the half door and was shocked by what he saw. There was a dappled grey stallion in the stall; he was at least seventeen hands and was regarding Bennet disinterestedly. Then, he looked at the two empty stalls where his carriage horses were kept when not pulling the carriage or busy on the home farm. However, the next stall was occupied.

When the groom Jack led Artimus out of his stall, Bennet stopped him. “Jack, to whom do these horses belong?” Bennet enquired.