Refusing Mr Collins Read online

  Refusing

  Mr. Collins

  A Tale of Desperation…

  Carrie Mollenkopf

  Additional titles by Carrie Mollenkopf

  The Redemption of Caroline Bingley

  The Vocation of Mary Bennet

  The Soulmate of Kitty Bennet

  The Stubborn Pride of Lydia Bennet

  Lizzie Bennet’s Choice

  Elizabeth of Pemberley

  Matchmaking at Pemberley

  Darcy’s Heart

  Preserving Pemberley

  The Supernatural

  The Transformation of Georgiana Darcy

  In the Shadows of Pemberley

  Mary of Longbourn Series

  Mary Bennet and the Longbourn Heiress

  Mary Bennet and the Longbourn Tutor

  Mary Bennet and the Return of the Soldier

  Mary Bennet and the Substitute Vicar

  ~Prologue~

  Longbourn 1813

  It is a truth universally acknowledged, that while a man in possession of a fortune may be in want of a wife, there may be ladies who do not reciprocate. This may be especially so when the man in question not only possesses the rightful inheritance of said ladies, but is also of a most odious disposition and less than agreeable in appearance. Such was the lot of five young women near the town of Meryton. Not only had they no fortune, their own father, an absentee parent at best, had not the foresight to put aside a single pound should they not have the opportunity marry. For this sole reason, their overbearing mother deemed it necessary for one of her daughters to marry this impossible man. However, a mother’s best laid plans cannot come to pass if the gentleman in question is not only repulsive, but also very, very dead. Desperate times often call for desperate measures. There is a myriad of ways to dispose of an unwanted suitor, all of which may be deemed accidental, for who would ever accuse a young lady of good family? The answer is simple… no one. However, some persons are as extremely difficult to be rid as they are to tolerate in life. The Reverend Mr. Collins, despite his obvious deficiencies when it came to appearance and personality, has an uncanny knack for staying alive but, where there is a will, there is always a way…

  ~1~

  It could never be said that Mrs. Bennet of Longbourn was not aware of her responsibilities. On the contrary, she was most diligent parent, much to the continual dismay of her five daughters. Long before the coming out of even her eldest child, now nearing the dangerous age of twenty-three, Margaret Bennet had planned for their marriages. After all, the greatest achievement of which a mother could boast, was the acquisition of a wealthy son-in-law. This goal had become particularly worrisome, since somehow, through no fault of her own she had not been bestowed with a son to care for them all. Such was the lot of many a young lady, denied their rightful inheritance by the laws of men. However, when one’s daughters were beautiful and charming it was but a trifle to overcome, especially when the heir was unmarried and desiring a wife.

  It was this recent knowledge, that Mrs. Bennet eagerly anticipated the arrival of one Reverend William Collins. If she played her cards right, at least two of her daughters would be married by the end of the year. For not only had Mr. Collins announced his intention of visiting his cousins, his arrival had been eclipsed one month earlier by the tenancy of Mr. Charles Bingley at Netherfield. That, and the continued residency of a regiment of Army officers, provided much opportunity for excellent matches. The only obstruction to Mrs. Bennet’s plans, were the stubborn opinions of the very daughters whose futures she sought to secure.

  Now, as she ordered the airing of Longbourn’s sole guest chamber and contemplated the week’s menu, Mrs. Bennet pondered the best choice of wife for Reverend Collins. Her eldest, Jane, possessed a delicate beauty and serenity of person that could not be matched. However, Mr. Bingley had made it very clear that he favored Jane above all others in the area. No, Mr. Collins was not for her Jane. Next was Elizabeth, handsome enough to be sure, but often spoke in a forward fashion. It would take much to curb Lizzie’s strong will to become a vicar’s wife. Perhaps too much. The younger girls, Kitty and Lydia, were far to lively of spirit to marry a minister. Besides, Mrs. Bennet greatly enjoyed their company, and, at just fifteen and sixteen years respectively, they could wait their turn. That left Mary, quiet and studious, prim to the point of prudence, she would be the perfect wife for any man of the cloth. Unfortunately, Mary was also the plainest of her children. Requiring the use of spectacles, Mary did little to enhance what good features she did possess. Wearing drab colors and a permanent frown of disapproval, it was difficult for most people to like Mary. Would Mr. Collins even want her? Sighing heavily, Mrs. Bennet pondered the dilemma. What was a mother to do? The answer was clear, Mr. Collins must remain at Longbourn until he married one of her girls, even if it meant a bit of coercion on her part. More than one marriage had been achieved because the lady in question had been compromised. Even if the parties were innocent, all it took was the impression of being so, that and a measure of gossip. Thinking back to her own courtship and marriage, Mrs. Bennet smiled smugly to herself. A fair catch, she had been beautiful, and in possession of four thousand pounds, but as the daughter of an attorney, it would not be enough to secure the eye of a true gentleman. No man of the middle class, however comfortable, would do for Miss Margaret Gardiner. Her sights had been set much higher. So, when William Bennet of Longbourn had looked in her direction, there was no doubt in her mind. He would do quite nicely, but a bit of convincing on her part would be necessary. That, and an audience to witness it. Scandal was never truly a scandal if it resulted in a wedding. Unfortunately, only her two youngest children ever did anything remotely worthy of gossip. It would be a difficult task, but anything could be accomplished if one simply tried hard enough. With this firm resolve, Mrs. Bennet smoothed an imaginary wrinkle from a pillow slip and took a last glance about the chamber. It looked quite lovely… lovely enough to serve as a bridal suite.

  ~2~

  The day Mr. Collins arrived at Longbourn was grey and rainy as storms passed intermittently. If one were superstitious, they would wager that it was a signal that nothing positive was about to happen. But, as new visitors were rare, all the occupants of the house anxiously awaited the sound of a carriage.

  “I do hope he is handsome… and not old. Old men smell something terrible!” Lydia prattled as they sat at various occupations appropriate to ladies.

  “It matters not his age or appearance, what matters is the fact that when your father dies, he may turn us out as he pleases!” Mrs. Bennet admonished. It was rare for her to chastise the youngest Bennet daughter. As the favorite, Lydia often spoke before thinking, caring not that she hurt the feelings of anyone.

  “Well, at least he won’t be interested in me. That is for you Jane. As eldest, you must marry first.”

  Jane Bennet winced slightly at the remark, but did not take her eyes from the bonnet she was trimming. In truth, she was nursing a wounded heart. Just that morning, a letter had arrived from Caroline Bingley, the very sister of the man who had showered her with great attention. Giving their apologies, Caroline informed her of the immediate need to journey for London with no expectation of return. All of the hopes and dreams she had possessed for Charles Bingley had collapsed like a French souffle. Never before had she held so much affection for one man, and now he was gone, leaving his sister to bear the news of his departure. Although Caroline had not said so, Jane knew that it was the actions of her own mother that had prompted the departure. For Mrs. Bennet had never been known to curb her tongue, and had made presumptions about Jane and Bingley long before any truth was to be had. Financial security was all that occupied Mrs. Bennet, and if that meant offering one of her
children to the highest bidder, so be it. With Mr. Bingley no longer an object, Mr. Collins would be an excellent substitute. However, Mr. Collins, handsome or not, was of no consequence to Jane. Seeing her distress, Elizabeth placed a comforting hand upon her arm in reassurance before speaking.

  “Perhaps our cousin has a fondness for silly girls that talk more than is necessary? If so Lydia, you may be the first to marry.”

  Lydia only shrugged, a smirk of satisfaction ruining her countenance as she elbowed Kitty who sat in close confidence. It was as if they harbored some great secret, but instead, Lydia turned her venom on Mary, who pounded away on the aging pianoforte.

  “Can’t you play something other than dull hymns? We already spend far too much time on Sundays in church.”

  “I will remind you not to speak so when Mr. Collins arrives. As a minister, he may take offense,” Mr. Bennet interjected.

  Mr. Bennet had been hiding behind his newspapers. Out of habit, he preferred the solace of his library, but with an impending arrival, he was forced to tolerate the company of his family. A wave of pity washed over him as he contemplated the female onslaught that awaited Mr. Collins. The poor man did not stand a chance. Even the most stolid of persons could not withstand the entirety of the Bennet clan at once.

  “Indeed, Mr. Collins may favor Mary’s playing. Wouldn’t it be a surprise if he liked her best?” Mrs. Bennet added, oblivious to the slight her comment suggested.

  Gazing upwards, as if invoking divine assistance, Mr. Bennet folded his paper and rose. The sound of wheels, crunching on the gravel drive had saved him from further debate. “It seems that we will see soon enough who he prefers. I believe our guest has come.”

  Realizing that first impressions were of most importance, Mrs. Bennet quickly herded her children into an orderly procession to meet the carriage, placing Jane third in line, and slightly behind the rest. The disappointment of Mr. Bingley’s departure had not persuaded Mrs. Bennet to reassess the situation. He would return, after all, who could resist her beautiful Jane? Lizzie or Mary would have to marry Mr. Collins.

  ~3~

  Going out of doors, Mrs. Bennet’s face fell with disappointment as it was not a formal carriage to arrive at her doorstep. Instead, the rough-hewn wagon that delivered dry goods from Meryton turned into the formal drive. Sitting in the back, alongside sacks of flour and tins of fish, was the most pathetic specimen of manhood ever to walk the earth. His dress, the black garb of a clergyman, complete with collar, did little to enhance his features. For Mr. Collins was not one to spend a pence when there was a pound to be saved. As a result, all of his possessions were well past their prime, scavenged from the rubbish bin at the local poorhouse. Had he been handsome or sure of step, such thrift could have been overlooked as an element of his religious calling. Unfortunately, the package was complete. Unwilling to wait until the wagon had completely stopped, Mr. Collins slipped heavily as he attempted to alight without assistance. His bulky gait, assisted by the excess loose flesh about his middle, sent him landing squarely in the dirt. Dusting himself off amidst apologies, his florid complexion resembled that of a bloodhound. Jowls, loose and flabby, wobbled as he bowed in response to the curtseys of the Bennet ladies.

  “Dear cousins! How wonderful it is to finally make your acquaintance. Surely we shall become the greatest of friends!” he blubbered. Pumping Mr. Bennet’s hand far longer than was necessary, Mr. Collins studied each girl in turn, settling his gaze upon Jane. A faint gleam of barely concealed lust glinting in his eyes.

  “I see you approve of my daughters… but you must be tired. Surely there is time enough for conversation once you have had some refreshment?” Mrs. Bennet suggested.

  “Of course, of course. I am completely at your disposal, simply happy to be here… my future home,” he replied, casually running his free hand along the woodwork. The possessive gesture, was not lost on his hostess.

  Mrs. Bennet smiled, but it took the entirety of her resolve to not slap the man. She was the one who decided what was what at Longbourn….at least as long as her husband lived. Taking the proffered arm, she ignored the subtle insinuation and nodded.

  “Please, do feel at home. If there is anything you require… and I do mean anything, just let me know.”

  The syrup laced welcome belied Mrs. Bennet’s feelings as she led the family back into the parlor. The man was positively disgusting. How could she insist that one of her girls marry such a revolting creature? It was not going to be easy, but someone needed to make the sacrifice. Unless an alternative could be found. Taking the chair closest to their guest, Mrs. Bennet’s smile never wavered as she probed for information.

  “Mr. Collins, do tell us all about yourself. Have you any siblings?”

  The request, disguised as genuine interest, soon revealed more intimate details than any person present cared to know. Amidst hidden yawns, each of the Bennet daughters pretended to listen, allowing their minds to wander. Only Mrs. Bennet remained acutely attentive, learning much about the newcomer.

  “Three younger brothers you say? How fortunate! What are their occupations? Have you any miniatures? I should love to see your family.”

  Complying eagerly, the Reverend William Collins never realized his mistake. For in producing the requested details, Mrs. Bennet discovered that his siblings were not only of fairer appearance, but also currently serving as apprentices in fine professions. Surely, any one of the younger Collins men would be preferable to this sot? Unfortunate circumstances befell even the most hale and hearty. One as clumsy and slovenly as the man before her would be no one’s loss. Killing a man of the God may be unforgivable, but a mother must do what was best for her children. Mr. Collins would have to die, but it must appear an accident. Even though his brothers were not yet in a position to marry, it would buy them some time.

  *****

  As their mother contemplated her next course of action; the easiest way to dispose of the man she once supposed to be their savior, the younger Bennet ladies shared similar thoughts. Lydia and Kitty, smothering their giggles, whispered their speculations on the intimate details a marriage between Mr. Collins and one of their elder siblings would entail.

  “It is too bad that Mr. Bingley has abandoned Jane. Did you see the way Cousin William looked at her? It was as if she were wearing nothing but her shift.!” Kitty muttered with a mixture of amusement and pity.

  “Ugh! I would never allow him to put his hands upon me. I’ll bet my pocket money that he is very hairy as well. Just look at his hands… they resemble the apes we saw at that traveling menagerie last year. Only fatter.”

  To this observation, both girls erupted into laughter, much to the embarrassment of their elders.

  “Either share the joke or be silent girls!” Mrs. Bennet chastised, but was overridden by Mr. Collins who saw the attention as flattery.

  “Surely my cousins are simply entertained by my person? It is quite normal for such behavior when a young lady is infatuated. Have I told you that one of my greatest passions is gardening? Upon the recommendation of my esteemed patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, I have been using a particular blend of herbs to take care of aphids… do you have aphids here at Longbourn?”

  Having no idea as to what he refereed, Mrs. Bennet smiled, “I should love your advice upon such matters, would we not girls? My Mary has an interest in botany.”

  Mary Bennet, hearing her name, paused in her attempt to play a concerto. Frowning, she had not paid attention to the conversation and could not comment, but the way Mr. Collins waved a hand in dismissal set her teeth on edge.

  “I am sure Miss Mary does not possess the knowledge of Lady Catherine… no one does, but I should be happy to share her receipt.” He replied before changing the subject.

  Returning to her music, Mary changed the piece to one that allowed for a more vigorous effort. The sudden need to pound something was only overridden by a desire to poison Mr. Collins. Imagining the gastric effects of various plants, a smile emer
ged across her features. He would suffer greatly for the slur to her person.

  With the three younger ladies disregarded, the Reverend William Collins directed his gaze upon the two elder Bennet sisters. Rising, he took the vacant space between them on the settee, the dust from his soiled frock coat rising in a small cloud as he moved. A smallish piece, there was not enough room to accommodate all three without physical contact. Feeling his thigh touch hers, Jane flinched slightly and attempted to move as far out of reach as possible, sitting stiffly as a lifeless statue. However, the unwanted guest stayed her movements by resting a pudgy hand upon her arm.

  “Now cousin Jane, are we not to be friends? You too, cousin Elizabeth. I long to hear all about my dearest relations.”

  Sneezing in reply, Jane’s sad countenance beseeched her sibling for rescue. The sting of Mr. Bingley’s departure still wore heavily upon her emotions, rendering idle conversation difficult. Resisting the desire to roll her eyes, Elizabeth sat casually beside him, ignoring the cloud of dust that had settled upon her gown. Giving the complete appearance of geniality, her mind was reeling in the opposite direction. While she held an inner strength that would not permit any compromise of her person, Jane was not so fortified. Having the sweetest nature, Jane Bennet often caved to the desires of others, at the expense of her own happiness. Fearing that her sister would give in to whatever demand her mother wanted, Elizabeth vowed to protect Jane from any unwanted advances. All too often, women suffering the pain of rejection accepted another without due care, resulting in misery. Mr. Bingley may not be here to save Jane from Collins, but Elizabeth was. Plastering a false smile upon her features, Elizabeth engaged the odious man in conversation.

  “Mr. Collins, do tell us all about your home. Rosings Place?”

  “Rosings Park… the vicarage. A modest, yet comfortable house, with every convenience to be thought of… all due to the kindness of Lady Catherine de Bourgh. Have I mentioned her? Upon my guidance in religious matters she depends greatly.”