8 • Madhouse

A letter arrived for Jane.

As it came from Netherfield on a sheet of elegant, hot-pressed paper, it was opened immediately. James watched his sister’s countenance change as she read it, her eyes lingering on passages before she recollected herself and discretely put the letter away to rejoin the family’s conversation. But her false cheer was a poor imitation of her true joviality, and Jamie waited for her eyes to meet his so she would see him leave the room.

Soon she met him in their room and she silently handed him the letter. He recognized the flowing hand from Caroline Bingley’s other notes sent to her, though this one was considerably longer. His own mouth frowned upon reading the first line, and he resigned himself to disliking the entirety from there:

Dearest Jane,

I do not pretend to regret anything I shall leave in Hertfordshire, except your society, my dearest friend…

“She ought to stick to writing. She’s better at lying that way.”

Jane was decidedly silent, spurring him to read quickly, and aloud the most ridiculous of sections.

“ ‘When my brother left us yesterday, he imagined that the business which took him to London might be concluded in three or four days, but we are certain it cannot be so, as these matters are never so swiftly resolved. We have determined on following him thither, that he may not be obliged to spend his vacant hours in a comfortless hotel…’ ”

His eyes moved quickly over the words, sparing Jane's ears from enduring the majority of it a second time.

“ ‘I sincerely hope your Christmas in Hertfordshire may abound in the gaieties which that season generally brings…’ She certainly intends to keep him for a good while,” James remarked.

“It is evident he comes back no more this winter,” Jane agreed from her place at their window.

James scoffed from his seat on the bed, “It is only evident she does not mean he should.”

She sighed, “It must be his own doing, Lizzy. He is his own master, but you do not know all. Keep reading.”

He was skeptical of that but he continued forth with an ever deepening furrow in his brow and a darkness in his voice.

“ ‘Mr. Darcy is impatient to see his sister, and to confess the truth, we are scarcely less eager to meet her again. I really do not think Georgiana Darcy has her equal for beauty, elegance, and—’  Well now she’s just insulting.”

Jane’s chin dropped but a slight smile was on her lips. James only paused again when he read, “ ‘Louisa and myself are heightened into a state still more interesting, for the hope we dare to entertain of her being hereafter our sister…. My brother admires her greatly already, he will have frequent opportunity now of seeing her on the most intimate footing, her relations all with the connection as much as his own…’ ”

He understood now why his sister’s eyes had lingered so long on the letter, as his did now. Jane asked softly, “What think you of it?” His head lifted at the sound of tears in her voice. “Is it not clear enough? Does it not expressly declare Caroline neither expects nor wishes me to be her sister?”

James stood and came to her, pulling her against him to catch her sobs. “She is perfectly convinced of her brother’s indifference,” she said.

“I’ve told you from the beginning that Caroline Bingley is selfish and a egotistical,” he said softly, without pride. “Will you hear me?”

She nodded against him. “Caroline knows her brother is in love with you. No one who has ever seen you together can doubt his affection. She wants him to marry Miss Darcy, for her own benefit, and she follows him into town in the hopes of either persuading him or at the very least, keeping him away from you.”

Jane shook her head again, inducing him to squeeze her gently. “Could she have half as much love in Mr. Darcy for herself, she would have ordered her wedding clothes. But the case is this: We are not rich enough, nor grand enough for the ideal she has cloaked herself and her siblings. She is the more anxious to get Miss Darcy for her brother, solely along the thought that if she acquires one Darcy, she may more easily secure the other. But she forgets how Miss de Bourgh is already betrothed to Mr. Darcy, and if she has deceived herself in believing she can go against the infamous Lady Catherine, well…we may yet witness Charles running back to Netherfield if nothing else than to escape both families.”

Jane might have laughed if she had agreed with him. “If we thought alike of Caroline I might be made to feel more easy about this. But I known the foundation is unjust. Caroline is incapable of willfully deceiving anyone; and all I can hope in this case is that she is truly deceived, though not for the reasons you give.”

James’ chin rested on her head heavily, exhausted by her insistent need to find good in everybody. “If only Lord Darcy were as easily swayed by artful words as you are. You may find, one day, how liberating it is to see the evil in somebody.”

Jane pulled away from him, finally smiling and wiping her eyes. “I will not, rather I remain loyal to Charles being independent of influence. A thousand things may arise in six months.”

However it was not the following months they need be concerned with, rather the following days. The eldest Bennets kept the occupancy of Netherfield to themselves since the wake of the ball was still felt within the house. However the arrival of the Philips broke the family’s bliss.

“How absurd,” Lydia exclaimed, while her siblings were silent. She tried to meet someone’s eyes, to make contact and shatter the reality, unveil the joke. When none were willing to meet her, she turned back to her visiting relation. “Aunt, you must be joking!”

Her aunt Philips shrugged over her tea, looking apologetic. “I’m sorry, darling. Honestly, I am surprised I am the one to tell you, what with how close you are to Netherfield.”

Lydia sat back in her chair as if this was a personal affront. “What reason did he give for leaving?”

“Why, none,” their uncle chuckled. “A businessman need not give any reason for leaving a country estate when said business is in London. We only met him in passing.”

This was far from satisfactory intelligence but the eldest siblings left the room alongside their father and uncle, leaving Mrs. Bennet and her other daughters to pester Mrs. Philips with inquiries.

Mr. Collins, however, felt that in the midst of either the ball’s afterglow or the confusion of the Bingleys leaving, he would make his address to the family in form. Mrs. Bennet was speaking to no one in particular while the family broke their fast, her vocal thoughts lingering on how Mr. Bingley missed his promise to dine with them when Mr. Collins announced:

“May I hope, madam, for your interest with your fair daughter, Katherine, when I solicit for the honour of a private audience with her in the course of this morning?”

Silverware scraped to a halt on plates as the family stared at him. Whether it was the superfluous formality in his manner of speaking or his choice in Bennet, the family was shocked to stillness.

Kitty? James wondered incredulously, meeting Jane’s equally astonished eyes. He then looked at Kitty, who looked at Mr. Collins vacantly before she quickly turned back to her plate, her complexion paling considerably.

Mrs. Bennet was the first to recover. “Oh, dear! Yes—certainly. I am sure Kitty will be very happy—I am sure she can have no objection! Come, Lydia, I want you upstairs.”

She rose from her chair and bustled around the table, tearing her children from their meals apart from Kitty. All seemed reluctant to leave for alternate reasons, except for Lydia who seemed eager to leave lest Mr. Collins’ attentions find her again.

Kitty tried to plead, “Do not go—Mr. Collins must excuse me. He can have nothing to say to me that anybody need not hear. I am going away myself!”

“No nonsense, Kitty. I desire you will stay where you are,” Mrs. Bennet refused with a hand on her shoulder. “Kitty, I insist upon your staying and hearing Mr. Collins.”

Kitty lowered back onto her seat, her eyes finding her last salvage in the room: Jamie. He stood with his hand on the doorknob, waiting for his mother to bustle out before he held her gaze as he shut it behind him. He remained right where he was, listening on the other side of the door. An intimate corridor opened up behind him, with Mary sitting on the stairs, Jane in the window seat on the landing, and Mrs. Bennet with Lydia on the small couch against the stairs, the former fanning herself. Mr. Bennet had taken his tea and departed from the room at the start of breakfast, therefore blissfully ignorant to the events occurring outside his library.

The sound of Mr. Collins’ chair skidding over the floor was heard. James could see it clearly: poor Kitty sitting there, subjected to Mr. Collins’ high chested proposal.

“Good morning, my dear Katherine,” Mr. Collins opened. James grimaced, glancing back at Lydia stifling her giggles.

“You may be wondering, given my certain neglect, why we find ourselves together now.”

James sighed heavily, his eyes falling into his palm. This was going to be unbearable.

“Believe me, your unwillingness toward my audience is most typical of your sex and has not dissuaded me in the least. Your modesty, so far from doing you any disservice, rather adds to your other perfections. You would have been less amiable in my eyes had there not been this little unwillingness…”

James leaned his shoulder against the doorframe. If nothing else, Mr. Collins might grow winded before he ever reached his climactic point.

“You can hardly doubt the purpose of my discourse, however your natural delicacy may lead you to dissemble; my intentions have been too marked to be mistaken. Almost as soon as I entered the house I singled you out as the companion of my future life, but before I am run away with by my feelings on this subject, perhaps it will be advisable for me to state my reasons for marrying, as well as my esteemed choice.”

The idea of Mr. Collins, with all his solemn composure, being run away with by his feelings, would have made Jamie’s laugher echo in the rafters had this not so involved Kitty’s own nerves.

“My reasons for marrying are first, that I think it a right thing for every clergyman in easy circumstances to set the example of matrimony in his parish. Secondly, that I am convinced it will add greatly to my happiness; and thirdly, that it is the particular advice and recommendation of the very noble lady whom I have the honour of calling patroness. Twice has she condescended to give me her opinion on this subject, and it was but the very Saturday night before I left Hunsford that she said, ‘Mr. Collins, a clergyman like you must marry. Choose properly, choose a gentlewoman for my sake; and for your own, let her be an active, useful sort of person, not brought up high, but able to make a small income go a good way…’”

James blinked and rubbed his cheek, forcing the disgust off his face. Was this supposed to be a seducing compliment? That one’s future husband is so easily swayed by a rich widow?

James’ brows shot up as he heard Mr. Collins utter a sound akin to a chuckle. “You may be wondering at this juncture, why I chose you over your more lively sibling, as well as your more educated and beautiful sister—”

There is such a thing as censorship and you should bloody well use it.

“—both of whom would surely amuse or be approved of by the Lady Catherine. Rest assured, I have not chosen you for your likeness of name, rather, my fair cousin Jane has been reserved for another, while cousin Lydia is too young, and I think myself right in saying that though she would initially be welcomed at the quadrille table, the Lady Catherine would soon tire of a girlish spirit incapable of maturing.”

James peeked at Lydia, who was caught between insult and relief.

“Allow me, by the way, to say that I do not reckon the notice and kindness of Lady Catherine de Bourgh as among the least of the advantages in my power to offer. You will find her manners beyond anything I can describe; and your wit and vivacity I think must be acceptable to her, especially when tempered with the silence and respect which her rank will inevitably excite. It remains to be told why my views were directed to Longbourn instead of my own neighborhood, where I assure you there are many amiable young women.

“But the fact is, that being as I am, the son of the relative who was so long at odds with your father, I feel myself obligated by my position and indebted to the patience and kindness your father bestowed upon my own to fully dissolve the dispute with our marriage. It is, of course, no small thing, to help one live comfortably and pass peacefully from this world despite retaining a refined dislike of this individual…”

If she marries you, I think she will understand more intimately than anyone should, James thought sourly.

“This has been my motive, my fair cousin, and I flatter myself it will not sink me in your esteem. And now nothing remains but for me to assure you in the most animated language of the violence of my affection—”

Kitty’s own chair screeched over the wood of the floor. “You are too hasty, sir,” she cried. You forget that I have made no answer! Accept my thanks for the…compliment…you are paying me. I am very sensible of the honour of your proposals, but it is impossible for me to do otherwise than decline them.”

Mr. Collins sounded far from perturbed. “I am of a knowledge that it is usual with young ladies to reject the addresses of the man whom they secretly mean to accept, even during the second and third proposals. I am therefore by no means discouraged by what you have just said, and shall hope to lead you to the alter ere long.”

There was a pause. “Well your hope is rather an extraordinary one,” Kitty responded bluntly. “I do assure you that I am not one of those ladies…if such ladies there are. Why anyone would risk their happiness on the chance of being asked a second time it truly beyond me, but I am perfectly serious in my refusal. You could not make me happy, and I am convinced I am the last woman in the world who could make you so. Nay, were your friend Lady Catherine to know me, I am persuaded she would find me in every respect ill-qualified for the situation.”

James took his weight off the doorframe. He did not like Kitty’s having to fall to self-deprecation in order to dissuade Collins’ intent.

“I cannot imagine her ladyship would at all disapprove of you,” Mr. Collins refused. “And you may be certain that when I have the honour of seeing her again I shall speak in the highest terms of your modesty, economy, and other amiable qualifications.”

Kitty’s tone was almost too low for James to hear: “If I am to be known by nobility, I don’t want it to be for my modesty…”

Despite being right next to her, Collins behaved as if he had not heard. “When I do myself the honour of speaking to you next on this subject I hope to receive a more favorable answer so that we might skip the dalliances and playful refuses typical of your sex. They do not suit me, though I am far from accusing you of cruelty at present.”

“Really, Mr. Collins,” Kitty huffed with some warmth, “you puzzle me exceedingly. I cannot understand how my replies have hitherto been accepted as encouragement.”

“You must give me leave to flatter myself, my dear cousin, that your refusal of my addresses are merely words of course. My situation in life, my connections with the family of de Bourgh, and my relationship to your own are circumstances highly in my favour; and you should take it into further consideration that in spite of your manifold attractions, it is by no means certain that another offer of marriage may ever be made to you—”

James’ spine went rigid, his weight strong over his legs.

“—Your portion is unhappily so small that it will in all likelihood undo the effects of your loveliness and amiable qualifications. As I must therefore conclude that you are not serious in your rejections of me, I shall choose to attribute it to your wish of increasing my love by suspense, according to the usual practice of young females—”

James swept into the room, startling Kitty, who looked ready to both fly at Mr. Collins as well as from the room entirely. Mr. Collins appraised James and said, “Apologies, cousin, for holding the room for so long. Did you need it?”

James silently went toward the door opposite them which led outside, moving the table’s chairs out of the way for her escape. “Leave, Kitty,” he ordered softly, holding the door for her.

She eagerly flew past him, exiting outside instead of being caught by their mother in the corridor. James shut the door and rested his forearms on the back of one of the chairs. “Mr. Collins, if you have any hope of marrying into the female sex then you would do best not to insult them.”

Collins was clearly oblivious. “I must disagree with your interpretation, I did no such—”

“You did,” James curtailed. “More than once. I do not know who gave you the notion that a woman’s refusal means anything other than a refusal, but they are an invalid source.”

“Forgive me, Mr. Bennet,” Collins countered, “but this matter involves myself, Miss Katherine, and your mother—”

“No it doesn’t.”

“I—pardon?”

“It involves you and Lady de Bourgh, which this house has heard too much of since you arrived. In what dream did you find it appealing to marry a man who speaks entirely of an old woman?”

Mr. Collins began to come around the table, his self-proclaimed clergy superiority driving him to stand near James. “I am surprised at you, sir. I have thought highly of you and would have believed you held your family’s happiness in the greatest esteem—”

“You are not wrong,” James finished, his patience officially leaving the room in Kitty’s wake. “But you misunderstand us entirely. My mother wrongly led you to believe one of her daughters would be interested in you.”

The odd sound of mirth came from Mr. Collins again. James barely restrained his disgust. The senior Mr. Bennet would have done a better service in taking Mr. Collins as a child and teaching him proper interpretation of social interaction as opposed to feeding his useless father during his last years.

“Mr. Bennet, your intentions are good but it is my place in society to lead people like yourself and your sisters in the right direction. Though it would do young Lydia the better lesson of being married to the church, Katherine, I think, will suit Hunsford very well—”

James stepped forward, his voice dark and irreproachable. “Mr. Collins, you are a fool and an imbecile. You are the toy of a bored widow and you will never marry a woman from this family. You have insulted them. You have humiliated them. You ridicule us for being poor when we are only so because your father could not gather the energy to feed anyone more than himself. If you owe any debt to us, return it in the form of respect and silence, nothing else.”

Mr. Collins opened his mouth to speak but James stopped. “Get. Out. Of this room, Mr. Collins. I’ll admit to not knowing how they do it in Hunsford but in Longbourn, no. Means. No.”

Mr. Collins seemed to at last have a stroke of either brilliance or fear. His eyes widened and his mouth shut decisively. His heels clipped across the wood as he obediently left in silent contemplation.

Mrs. Bennet, having dawdled about in the vestibule, no sooner heard Collins leave then with a quick step entered the breakfast room to accost Jamie. “Have you lost your mind!”

“Sometimes I think I’m the only one with it,” he answered mildly, moving to stride past her. In a great sound of frustration, she bustled after Mr. Collins while Lydia rushed upstairs and out of sight. He made to ascend around Mary, but upon noticing her expression, he paused and sat beside her. “Mary?”

Her head moved as if to look at him but did not quite make it. Her dark hair was still loosely braided over her shoulder for sleep. After a time, she voiced, “I had thought…I had thought it would be me.”

James frowned slightly. “What do you mean?”

“He and I are of a kind. Abnormal. Neither of us is overly welcomed by society. His conversation may be dull and ignorant but he is never averse to talking to someone, regardless of who they are. I would have thought his desire for a prudent woman and someone who enjoys books as much as he would steer his proposal toward me.”

James heard her and absorbed her thoughts before he took both of her hands in his, which was rare considering most of her family touched her only sparingly and she did not request contact. “Mary, you are inquisitive, introspective, and artistic. You are anything but dull. Just because your thoughts vary from what normal society deems as ‘important,’ does not make you unintelligent or less deserving of anyone’s time. If you want to marry Mr. Collins, it should be because you enjoy him, not because you feel obligated to be with him. He is wrong to say one’s first marriage proposal will be one’s last… Do you know what it means to be one’s wife?”

She nodded gently but James was not sure. “Do you…know how one has children?”

She nodded with more surety, her dark grey eyes shyly meeting his gaze. “Yes.”

“Do you want Mr. Collins’ children?”

Her lips pressed together as she shook her head.

“During his time here, have you enjoyed him? Spending time with him, sharing conversation with him?”

Her lips parted, but as she considered this, they closed, and she shook her head. “No…I cannot say I have. But…Jamie…If I am to never marry…? If I...do not wish to marry...”

He startled her by standing, and kissing her hairline on his way up. “Then you will have a home here, as you always have.”

“But, but Jamie!” she rushed as he began to leave her. He paused and met her shocked and confused gaze. “Do you mean it?”

He grimaced a final time, but for entirely different reasons. “I’m your brother, Mary, not your benefactor. You have just as much right to this place as I. More, for surviving this madhouse with more patience than anyone.”

He met Jane on the landing and they continued upstairs together, leaving Mary with a small smile on her lips.

* * * * * * *

“Mr. Collins!” Mrs. Bennet exclaimed raggedly as she caught up with him. “My utmost apologies, sir,” she breathed. “Kitty shall be brought to reason. I will speak to her about it myself directly. Both Kitty and Lizzy are a very headstrong and foolish. He does not know Kitty’s interest; but I will make them both know it.”

Contrary to her hopes, Mr. Collins’ brow and lips were set in stern decision. “Pardon me for interrupting you, but if she is really headstrong and foolish, I know not whether she would altogether be a very desirable wife to a man in my situation, who naturally looks for happiness in the marriage state.”

Mrs. Bennet was beside her self, uttering an involuntary, “Ha!” in her exhausted state from running after him.

“If therefore she persists in rejecting my suit, perhaps it were better not to force her into accepting me, because if liable to such defect of temper, she could not contribute much to my felicity.”

He turned to continue his walk. “Sir, you quite misunderstand me,” Mrs. Bennet cried, alarmed. “Kitty only easily takes after which ever sibling captures her attention at the given moment! This is her only fault! In everything else she is as good-natured a girl as ever lived. I will go directly to Mr. Bennet, and we shall very soon settle it with her, I am sure!”

She did not give him time to reply, rather, hurrying instantly to her husband, calling out as she entered his sanctimonious library.

“Oh! Mr. Bennet,” she huffed, her face scarlet. “You are wanted immediately! We are all in an uproar; you must come and make Kitty marry Mr. Collins, and you must place Lizzy into submission! For she vows she will not have him, and if you do not make haste he will change his mind and not have Kitty!”

Mr. Bennet raised his eyes from his book as she entered, and fixed them on her face with a calm unconcern which was not in the least altered by her communication. “I have not the pleasure of understanding you. Of what are you talking? What is this about Kitty and Jamie?”

“Of Mr. Collins and Kitty!” she harrumphed. “Lizzy declares he is an imbecile and Kitty ran from the proposal!”

He blinked at her mildly. “And what am I to do on the occasion? It seems a hopeless business. I agree, Mr. Collins is an imbecile.”

“Speak to Kitty yourself!” she shrieked. “Tell her you insist upon her marrying Mr. Collins and when Lizzy tries to intervene, stop him! You know how impressionable Kitty is! She will easily believe Lizzy knows best!”

Mr. Bennet stared at her for a long moment contemplatively, almost as if to test her patience. Finally he uttered, “Let her be called down. Both of them.”

Mrs. Bennet rang the bell beside his door. Mr. Hill arrived and accepted the task of going to find Kitty and James. When Mr. Bennet's children arrived, James stood near the door with his arms crossed while he called Kitty close. “Come here, child. I have sent for you on an affair of importance.”

Being the smallest of his children, she came to sit on his lap, his fingers interlaced on her waist. “I understand that Mr. Collins has made you an offer of marriage. Is it true?”

“Yes, papa.”

“Very well, and this offer of marriage you have refused?”

“I have, sir,” she answered worriedly.

He nodded. “Very well. We now come to the point. Your mother insists upon your accepting it. Is not it so, Mrs. Bennet?”

“Yes, or I will never see her again!” her mother pronounced.

Mr. Bennet’s eyes glimmered as his son uttered a soft Ugh. “It appears an unhappy alternative is before you, Kitty. From this day you must be a stranger to one of your parents. Your mother will never see you again if you do not marry Mr. Collins, and I will never see you again if you do.”

Kitty startled at his response. A smile flashed on her face but hesitated. “Do you mean it, papa?”

Her mother, however, stormed, “What do you mean, Mr. Bennet, by talking in this way? You promised me to insist upon her marrying him!”

James cut in, “While you threaten to only have four children otherwise?”

“I ought to make it three!” she fumed.

His eyelids only hung at half-mast as he shook his head. “Marrying your children off before anyone else in the county is no achievement if they are unhappy and despise you.”

Mr. Bennet intercepted, “Then our Jamie was right in intervening in Mr. Collins’s pursuit of you?”

Kitty nodded eagerly and he nodded with a warm smile. “Then go on. Your last duty of the day is to suffer the humiliation brought on by Lydia.”

She kissed his stubble and collided with Jamie to hug around his middle and take him from the room before their mother found a reason to keep them. Mr. Bennet picked up his book once more, only sparing a moment to tell her, “My dear, I have two small favours to request: first, that you will allow me the free use of my understanding on the present occasion. And secondly, of my room. I shall be glad to have the library to myself as soon as may be.”

“This entire family is against me!” she proclaimed despite leaving the room.

* * * * * * *

While the family was in the throes of this confusion, Charlotte Lucas called upon the house to spend the day with them. She was met in the small foyer by Lydia, who flew down the stairs to her and relayed, “I am glad you’ve come! There is such fun here! Mr. Collins has made an offer to Kitty! Kitty! But she will not have him, and Lizzy has made quite an ordeal over it.”

Charlotte had hardly time to answer, before they were joined by Kitty and Jamie leaving their father’s library. They confirmed the news, and made the mistake of entering the breakfast room for Charlotte to join them in the finishing of their meal, but Mrs. Bennet was there and called upon Miss Lucas for her compassion. James exchanged an apologetic look with Charlotte, who was sure to endure their mother’s pleading her to persuade them while her own children fled the room.

“For nobody is on my side!” they heard their mother exclaim. “Nobody takes part with me, I am cruelly used, nobody feels for my poor nerves! See how they leave me! Oh it is all very well that I shall never speak to them again! I have no pleasure in talking to undutiful children. Not that I have much pleasure in talking to anybody. People who suffer as I do from nervous complaints can have no great inclination for talking. Nobody can tell what I suffer! But it is always so. Those who do not complain are ever pitied…”

Charlotte, as a good neighbor and long standing member of the family would do, listened and let Mrs. Bennet commiserate with herself with very little help from Charlotte. Mrs. Bennet spoke for such a time as Charlotte eventually witnessed James and Kitty alongside Jane appear outside of the window, although they only made eye contact with her and sat upon the step outside.

It was during this time that they were joined by Mr. Collins who, upon returning from his walk, entered with an air more stately than usual. Mrs. Bennet immediately sent Charlotte from the room. She went as far as the others sitting on the stoop, which was close enough to still hear what was possibly the largest testament to Mr. Collins’ intelligence, and the last:

“My dear madam,” he curtailed before Mrs. Bennet took hold of the conversation, “let us be forever silent on this point. Far be it from me to resent the behavior of your son and daughter. You will not, I hope, consider me as showing any disrespect to your family by withdrawing my pretensions to your daughter’s favour. My conduct may I fear be objectionable in having accepted the refusal from your daughter’s lips instead of your own. But we are all liable to error. I have certainly meant well through the whole affair. My object has been to secure an amiable companion for myself, with due consideration for the advantage of all your family, and if my manner has been at all reprehensible, I here beg leave to apologize.”

* * * * * * *

Despite the rejection and his acceptance of it, Collins seemed determined to not leave early. For the coming Saturday he was bound to leave and until the coming Saturday he meant to stay.

The sole reprieve during this time came from the usual walks to Meryton, which provided a change of scenery, company, and on this particular occasion, the return of Mr. Wickham into their lives.

The Bennet siblings were looking through their aunt’s latest shipment of fabrics and ribbons when James looked across the street to see the man exiting a cobbler’s shop. As if sensing him, their eyes met and Wickham grinned, looking along the avenue before he jogged across to meet him outside. Today his hair was untied, the honeyed tresses flopping pleasantly in the sunlight.

“How lovely to see you,” he greeted, sliding an arm around James’ shoulders. “Walk with me.”

James looked back to wave at Jane and noticed as they walked that Miss Lucas’s civility dictated her listening to Mr. Collins along their own stroll; so he might also enjoy Meryton without due closeness to the Bennets.

To James’ surprise, it was Wickham who entered upon the obvious topic at hand. “I must apologize for not meeting you at Netherfield. I found, as time drew near, that I had better not meet Darcy. To be in the same room or at least in the same party with him for so many hours together, might be more than I could bear. The possibility of unpleasant scenes arising between him and myself kept me away.”

James could only sigh. “The Netherfield ball feels weeks away. I haven’t the energy to scold you, so I will easily agree.”

Wickham gazed at him with a sympathetic smile. “Oh? Have I missed out on more than a ball?”

James gave him the short and simply of it: of Netherfield’s occupancy and their own domestic unrest. Wickham listened with his usual calm and at last voiced, “Well, from two weddings to none. And yet everyone is happy apart from your mother,” he chuckled. “This is a unique circumstance.”

They walked for much of the day, eating at his aunt’s and using Wickham’s free day to their advantage until in the mid-afternoon he had to return and James met Charlotte once more. She was without Mr. Collins, who left to ensure his things were in order to leave the day after next.

“New accessories?” Charlotte asked, flicking a ribbon sticking out of one of his parcels.

“It is the season of clove and berry,” he confirmed. “Papa’s finally given me leave to use our fruit preserves while mama’s distracted by her own lamentation.”

Charlotte laughed but with some sympathy for his mother. “May I help?”

“You just want a scone with jam,” he accused.

“Of course,” she smirked, “but I’ll work for it.”

With his own smile he opened his elbow to her and they strolled home to Longbourn. It was there he stirred the wax in his pots while she revealed that though the family was without two weddings, she was equipped with one.

James stopped his stirring and looked at her, gauging her sincerity. “Is your Collins the same as our Collins?”

Charlotte rolled her eyes around her scone, taking a break from labeling his tapers. “There is only one Collins in Longbourn until I marry him.”

He pivoted toward her with severe skepticism in his eyes. “Mr. Collins? When did this happen?”

“Today,” she said, “although my receiving him has been since he first arrived.”

“Sure, but I thought you were just being kind.”

She shrugged. “I was, but with his feelings being unmet by Kitty, I thought I might sway them in my direction.”

“Feelings?”

Her eyes rolled again. “Whatever he has. His intent is now focused on me.”

“Mr. Collins?”

She glared at him. “Jamie.”

“You are engaged to Mr. Collins! Have you paid no attention to how ridiculous he is?”

She sighed gruffly. “Ridiculous he may be but he is not unmanageable. I am seven and twenty, Lizzy, and the match is not unattractive from a logical standpoint.”

“Logic,” he scoffed, returning to his herbs to rub them between his palms and drop them into the according pots.

“Why should you be surprised, Lizzy? Did you think it was impossible for Mr. Collins to be able to procure any woman’s good opinion?”

“He already has the good opinion of his patroness,” James countered. “Whether Collins could be half of a happy home is less believable.”

“Jamie,” Charlotte scolded, but her tone was different. Softer. James’ head turned over his shoulder to find her gazing out the kitchen windows. “When you have had time to think it over, I hope you will be satisfied with what I have done. I am not romantic, you know. I never was.”

“You never believed you could afford romance," he reiterated.

“Some of us cannot!” she rounded. “The same could be said for you. You have your home but what about after? The entailment entitles it to Mr. Collins after the immediate males pass on. Have you ever even considered being with a woman?”

James bristled but just as quickly paled. He had not. “I will sooner break the entailment and give this place to Jane’s children,” he voiced quietly.

Charlotte sighed, tired. “I ask for a comfortable home only. I haven’t any money or prospects apart from this. Considering Mr. Collins’s character, connections, and situation in life, I am convinced my chance of happiness with him is as fair as most people can boast on entering the marriage state. At the utmost, I might sculpt the home to suit my needs and comforts while he distracts himself by pleasing Lady de Bourgh’s fancies.”

They fell silent. James could only rest his pelvis against the counter as he absorbed her sentiments. He could only gaze out of the windows as well as he thought aloud, “Somehow this marriage predicts a loneliness greater than if you went without him.”

Charlotte huffed a laugh. “I refuse to believe myself alone while you yet live. I will never forgive you if you do not visit me and visit me often, James Elizabeth.”

His shoulders lifted with his own mirth, his smile falling to the floor in shame. “Yes,” he said, lifting his eyes to meet hers. “I will. Of course I will.”

The tension between them eased. Her chin bobbed once, pleased and relieved. “Good. And I fully expect you to decorate my wedding.”

His head tilted back as he guffawed, but as she finished her tea and they poured the candles, he could not quite fathom the events of the week. The strangeness of Mr. Collins’s making two offers of marriage within three days, juxtaposed with his now being accepted was both commendable and unbelievable.

But what weighed heavily on James’ thoughts was how Charlotte’s opinion of matrimony varied so widely from his own. James could not say his parents’ marriage was a happy one. Perhaps in the beginning, and in moments, but he was witness to his parents avoiding one another more often than sharing a common space. Previously he would have painted a marriage with Collins as a humiliating picture, but his friend’s sacrificing happiness for social and domestic security altered his opinions.

He had developed a strict standard of happiness for himself and his siblings, taking for granted that how his sisters might achieve happiness did not match his own. His sisters could achieve marital bliss, even if only for the initial honeymoon months. He could not, and the reality of Charlotte leaving Longbourn with the impending state of his sisters leaving as well, left Jamie feeling wounded and alone.