Rebellion at Longbourn

Collins spluttered for a moment. “No. I absolutely forbid this!”

“It does not require your approval,” William growled.

The other man stared at them for a long minute, his chest heaving with indignation. “You are on my property, sir,” Collins finally spat. “Kindly remove yourself from the Longbourn estate, and do not return!”

Elizabeth’s stomach knotted itself. She passed most of her days at Longbourn; if William could not venture onto the estate, she would rarely see him. “You cannot banish him,” she exclaimed.

“It is my prerogative,” Collins thundered. “These illicit activities will cease now.” He grabbed Elizabeth’s wrist, pulling her toward the house, and then pointed William toward the road. “You must quit this place at once!” She could smell the brandy on his breath.

Drawn by the shouting, Jane and Mr. Bingley watched from a few yards away, although Collins had not noticed them.

William stalked toward Collins and removed his hand from Elizabeth’s wrist. Eyes wide with fear, her cousin did not object.

“I will leave,” William hissed. “But not until you assure me you will not mistreat my betrothed.” He towered over Collins.

The other man stumbled backward. “O-Of c-course, I will not hurt her! She is my cousin.”

William glared at Collins for another moment before shifting his attention to Elizabeth. “If he uses you ill in any way, send word at once. I will handle him.” Even in the darkness, Elizabeth could see Collins shiver.

Ignoring the other man, William took Elizabeth’s hand and kissed it. “I will contact you tomorrow.” The passion in his gaze made her flush.

He released her hand with obvious reluctance and joined Mr. Bingley on the road. Without a word, the two men disappeared into the darkness.

Refusing to have Collins drag her back to the manor, Elizabeth turned on her heel and hurried toward Jane. The sisters marched for Longbourn so rapidly that their cousin had trouble keeping pace.

***

Upon waking the next morning, Elizabeth did not immediately rise from bed. Staring at the wall, she took a moment to recall both the elation of her betrothal to William and the mortification of being discovered by Collins. She had no doubt that her cousin would make life difficult for her, but she did not know how. William had told her to communicate with him if she had trouble; however, it would be difficult if he was considered persona non grata at Longbourn.

With these anxieties troubling her heart, Elizabeth arose from bed and dressed to face the day.

Collins’s supercilious smile at the breakfast table was a sure sign that all was not right. The low level of animosity between them had apparently blossomed into open warfare overnight; he was no longer pretending to have her best interests at heart. He poured a little brandy into his coffee before announcing triumphantly, “Mr. Darcy departed Netherfield for London early this morning.” Since Collins addressed the remark to Elizabeth, everyone at the table turned their heads to stare at her.

She maintained a carefully neutral expression as she collected food from the sideboard. “How do you know that, sir?”

Collins sputtered for a moment. “The cook’s boy happened to mention it after I sent him with an”—he faltered—“an errand to Netherfield.”

Elizabeth sat and commenced buttering her toast. If it was to be open warfare, then she needed no pretense at civility. “Are you saying you have a spy at Netherfield, and the cook’s boy has been your go-between?”

Collins jolted upright in his chair. “A spy? There is no spy! The scullery maid merely passes along information occasionally.”

Jane gasped, and Charlotte looked slightly nauseated.

“In other words, a spy,” Elizabeth said.

Flushing a bright red, Collins gathered up the newspaper and held it in front of himself. “Mr. Darcy has abandoned you.”

Elizabeth tried to quell the doubting voice in the back of her mind. William would not have pursued me for months only to abandon me when Collins presented an obstacle. She shrugged. “No doubt he had some business in town. I am certain he will return shortly.”

Her mother had observed the exchange with great interest and considerable restraint—at least by her standards. She could contain her curiosity no longer.

“Why are his whereabouts of particular interest to you, Lizzy?”

Elizabeth allowed herself a small, triumphant smile. “William has asked for my hand in marriage, and I have accepted him.”

If Collins hoped to persuade her against the engagement, the excitement produced by this announcement did nothing to further his cause. Her mother threw her hands in the air and shrieked. Kitty cried tears of joy, and Mary actually smiled. Charlotte was torn between joy for Elizabeth and the need to soothe her agitated husband. Only Jane remained placid—since she had learned the news the previous night.

“Silence! I will have silence!” Collins thumped on the table several times before the conversation died down. “Cousin Elizabeth, your celebration is premature,” he sneered. “Lady Catherine will not regard the match with favor.”