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Since the reaper gave his first warning visit the night of the Netherfield ball, I knew my days were numbered, but I never told anyone. Perhaps she would not hate me so much had I confided in her, but it seemed too late. Whatever my faults, on the very next day after that cursed ball, I secured a future for all my girls in one fell swoop; yet this daughter had no appreciation for how much it would affect her mother and sisters.

Mr Collins was certainly a silly man, but so was every other man the girls were likely to meet, so why was he any worse than the next? A clever girl like Lizzy could readily manage the fool. On the other hand, this ignorant girl might think she preferred poverty to Collins, but only because she had not the slightest idea what poverty really looked like. Whether Collins might have been better off with Mary or another daughter was immaterial. He insisted on Elizabeth due to my wife’s nonsensical machinations, and with very limited choices, I did my best.

After the events at that hated ball at Netherfield, at least Elizabeth had no more illusions about her former favourite, Mr Wickham, or his spiritual brothers, Bingley and Darcy. They all showed their true colours when it came to the point. Shaking my head a bit to gather my wits, I came back to the present to deal with my recalcitrant daughter.

Elizabeth did not relent in the least. Hatred poured off her like flames, but I had to be steady to my purpose if I was to prevent utter ruin of the family. I assumed I would have to talk about my failings as a father with my Maker at another time, but I had things that must be done, unpleasant as they might be. It was not the time to show weakness.

Elizabeth asked too casually, “Has he tried to ruin anybody else besides Mary King and Lydia, or run up even more debts?”

I replied with the mildest tone I could manage, knowing she was looking at me angrily.

“Nobody knows where he is, but make no mistake, should he live when he inherits, he will have what he thinks is a justifiable revenge on the Bennets. Since Mary stopped his supposed elopement with Lydia, I do not think he will look on your sisters favourably. Mary saved Lydia’s life, but your sisters are all diminished by what gossip we could not contain. Even should I find the man and have him taken to debtors’ prison, he could get out easily with the proceeds from inheriting Longbourn. Even if he emigrated or was transported, he could eventually come back to make a claim. He is a threat to the entire Bennet family and the community where you spent most of your life. Longbourn would not survive a fortnight after his inheritance, and much of Meryton might collapse soon after.”

I expected that to reach the girl, but I may as well have been talking to a statue for all the reaction I got, aside from open hostility, which she should well have outgrown by then. She acted as if she were the first woman in history to have an arranged marriage for the benefit of her family, or as if I had matched her with some terrible man instead of just a bumbling fool. If even Jane could not secure a match between Meryton and her frequent forays to her uncle in town, what chance did any of the other girls have?

Elizabeth spoke with far more hostility than I ever imagined she could possess.

“Why are you here, Bennet? How do you expect me to correct this problem of your creation once again? I have already been forced to sacrifice my own life to your indolence; what more do you have the gall to ask of me?”

So, not even the courtesy of calling me Mr, let alone Father. I was well and truly out of favour, and my next demand would be even more unpalatable, but I would not see my family tossed into the hedgerows because she was missish. It was time for her to do her duty.

“You must bear a son!”

Her countenance was still hostile but also contained a trace of grim amusement. Nobody who did not know her intimately would see it, but it was there, and I doubted it was to my benefit.

Her response was the worst I could imagine.

“Well, Bennet, that is unlikely in the extreme. My marriage remains unconsummated to this day, and with Mr Collins’… ah… condition, it shall remain so, as his ability to perform his part of the process no longer… functions.”

Never in my most pessimistic thoughts had I entertained that possibility. I was disturbed by the casual way she discussed it, as if talking about the weather or her poultry. To deny her duty to her husband and family was beyond the pale. Had she no sense of familial duty at all?

It took me a moment to come to myself enough to ask, “How is that possible, after nearly a year of marriage?”

I nearly held my breath, awaiting her reply, and when it came, it carried an even harder edge than what came before. She actually chuckled, apparently in grim amusement, without the slightest hint of the daughter who was not made for unhappiness.

Her reply set me back on my heels and outright broke my heart.

“When you forced me into this marriage, did you notice I did not even speak the vows? Mr Collins and Mrs Bennet took it upon themselves to say the words for me, and the parson just let it stand. I was apparently with the two worst supposed ‘men of God’ in Christendom. You, sir, and your wife and the law promised me to that hideous man, but I did not. I spoke no vows. Had you not confined me to my room and isolated me from my sisters those few weeks before the wedding, I should have run away.”

Once again, the whingeing about an arranged marriage was getting on my nerves, and I felt it was time to move things forward, as my time was in fact running short. I did not really hear the goings-on she alluded to, as I spent the wedding day in the pew feeling like I would not survive the ceremony, let alone another day, but I would not give her the satisfaction of knowing that.

“What is done is done, but I am most curious to know how you avoided your marital duties for an entire year. I thought I taught you better.”

She replied with an iron-grated chuckle that sounded somewhat… boastful.

“No, Bennet, neither you nor your wife taught me anything useful. What use is a classical education in a place like this? Viking training would have been better.”

She stared at me until I was forced to look away.

“The first month, I simply told the idiot that I had my courses. Stupid man did not even know how such things worked, and he just bumbled along until he eventually asked someone.”

She paused as if daring me to speak.

“The second month, I found that every time he came to me, he could be dissuaded by ridicule. I felt no need to spare the feelings of a man who would take a wife by force—and make no mistake—he knew exactly what he was about. He gloated nearly constantly about having secured such a spirited woman, and spoke of the enjoyment he would receive from ‘bringing her to heel.’ Those thoughts even replaced speaking about his patroness those first months. However, his… ardour… could not stand up to my words.”

She paused momentarily, seemingly not intending to continue, so I prompted her, “The third month?”

With that, she locked eyes with me and seemed to be taking my measure, or possibly working out the right words.