Chapter Eight

Twisting to peer out the front parlor window, Kitty continued to stare at the tall woman as the heavy set gentleman turned back to the carriage.

“Who is that?” Mrs. Bennet asked, a sharp edge to the words. “Mr. Bennet, you said your cousin Collins would arrive today, alone.”

“In truth, I did not say he would arrive alone. It is I who assumed he would.” Mr. Bennet leaned forward in his chair to better see out the window, frowning. “Perhaps it is his patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh?”

“But why?” Elizabeth asked as the woman moved away from the conveyance.

The gentleman, perhaps Mr. Collins or perhaps not, for Kitty wasn’t certain, reached back inside.

This time he handed out an auburn haired miss whose beauty rivaled Jane’s. Rivaled and perhaps exceeded for, as with the older woman, the younger miss’s ensemble was impeccable. As was that of the next auburn haired miss who alighted, and the next, until no fewer than five young women stood with the tall lady and the man who might be Mr. Collins.

Silence filled the parlor as everyone gaped at them through the window.

Kitty looked down at her gown, selected with little care. The bust and arms were a touch loose, the material faded and the cream lace tinged gray for too many washes. The cut was at least three Seasons out of date. She looked like a child wearing her mother’s cast-off clothing.

No, worse. Like a child wearing the housekeeper’s cast-off clothing. They all did, though both Jane and Elizabeth had the sort of posture and poise that led to overlooking what they wore, and Lydia had lowered her neckline so far, and added so much lace, that she appeared more like a harlot who’d dug a gown out of the midden than a gentleman’s daughter.

At least, that’s how they all looked to Kitty’s assessing eye now that she’d seen the women who assembled before Longbourn.

“Whoever are they?” Mrs. Bennet breathed, awe in her voice.

“I have no notion.” Even Mr. Bennet sounded subdued. “Mr. Collins mentioned his patroness, but communicated nothing that would lead me to believe she, or any daughters, would accompany him.”

“Perhaps that is not Mr. Collins at all?” Jane suggested.

“Likely, they are at the wrong house.” Elizabeth’s voice held an acerbic edge.

“I imagine we are about to find out.” Mr. Bennet snapped closed the book he held as the group marched forward.

A knock sounded on the front door. Betty hurried past the parlor doorway.

“Mr. Collins, come to call on my cousin, Mr. Bennet, accompanied by my cousin, Mrs. Archer and her daughters.”

Betty murmured a reply. A moment later she appeared in the parlor doorway. “A Mr. Collins, sir, mum, and a Mrs. Archer and five Miss Archers.”

“Show them in,” Mr. Bennet said gravely.

Fabric rustled and shuffled as hats, gloves, cloaks, and coats were shed, but little time passed before the gentleman strode in with Mrs. Archer on his arm. Absent his hat, Kitty could see that despite Mr. Collins appearing in his mid-twenties, his hairline had already begun its race for the top of his head. He and Mrs. Archer halted a few steps into the room, and the five younger misses massed behind them.

Kitty came to her feet along with her relations, futilely smoothing her skirt. She endeavored to press the gown to her sides with her arms, to hold the fabric back so the front didn’t gape as much. Why had she not taken the time to pick something that fit better? This gown was more Lydia’s size than hers.

Introductions revealed the Misses Archers to be, in order of age from eldest to youngest, Misses Jacoline, Edith, Mabel, Catherine called ‘Cat,’ and Laura. Kitty felt her face heat, though why it should discombobulate her so that she must share a name with the refined creature before her, she didn’t know.

“Cat? Truly?” Mrs. Bennet blurted once names were exchanged. “Our Catherine is called Kitty.”

Miss Catherine cast Kitty a pitying look. “Oh, but you poor thing. To be so diminished. You must insist all call you Cat as well. I will not mind one bit.”

Why should she? No one would look twice at Kitty, or even recall her, in a room with Cat there.

“Would you care for tea, Mrs. Archer? Mr. Collins?” Mrs. Bennet offered.

They all stood still. Anyone who could count, and likely many who could not, would easily deduce that there were not enough seats for all the Archers, the Bennets, and Mr. Collins.

“Oh no, dear Mrs. Bennet.” Mrs. Archer spoke with a full, round voice, as if she were far more jolly than her slender frame and impeccable ensemble indicated. “We know we are unexpected and do not mean to put you out. We simply sought a glimpse of Cousin Collins’ future holding before retiring to the property we have let.” She looked about her. “Your home is quite, ah, quaint. Is it not a lovely, quaint sort of place, girls?”

“Yes, Mother,” they intoned, glossy curls bobbing in time to their synchronized nods.

“Cousins Collins will obviously be very comfortable here,” Mrs. Archer concluded.

“You have let a property?” Kitty’s mother asked sharply.

“Oh yes. Cousin Collins did not mention as much when he wrote to you?” Mrs. Archer gave the tall young man a playful swat on the arm. “We have rented a house in your fine village. Cousin Collins asked for our assistance in evaluating his future holding, and my girls and I were eager for some time in the countryside.”

“Where did you let?” Lydia asked with avid interest.

Mrs. Archer frowned. “What is the family name? I am so absent minded about such things. My dear departed Wallace was always the one to handle such matters. It is not that Hinterfield Park place. We made the attempt, but it has already been taken.”

“Do you mean Netherfield Park?” Elizabeth asked.

Mrs. Archer focused a condescending smile on her. “I must, mustn’t I?”

“The family name is Long, Mother,” Miss Archer supplied before turning to Mrs. Bennet. “We wrote to the mayor of the local market town requesting who had the most prestigious house, and he recommended the Longs, so we have let their home.” Her gaze flicked over the parlor. “Hopefully it is less cozy than Longbourn, for there are a great many of us, as you can see.”

As they numbered one fewer than Kitty’s family, Mr. Bennet being still with them and Mr. Archer apparently not, Kitty couldn’t see how they would require more space than Longbourn offered.

“You will find the Longs’ home more than adequate to your needs, and well situated in the village,” Mr. Bennet said, stepping forward. “It has been our pleasure to meet you all. Mr. Collins, if you will direct the footmen as to which cases are yours, we will not delay your cousins any longer in reaching their accommodations.”

“Ah, yes, certainly, Mr. Bennet.”

“We do hope you will call on us at the Longs,” Mrs. Archer said as Mr. Collins hurried out.

“And you must call here as well,” Mrs. Bennet replied with what Kitty suspected to be very little thought.

“We look forward to furthering our acquaintance, then,” Mrs. Archer concluded in that voice that sounded far more pleasant than she looked. “Until next we meet.”

That set off a flurry of curtsies that eventually ended with the departure of the six Archer women and the momentary retreat of Mr. Collins to his room to refresh himself. Kitty dropped back down onto the sofa she shared with Lydia, feeling dazed.

“They are all as tall as I am,” Lydia groused, plopping down beside her.

“They are all very pretty,” Jane said quietly as everyone else retook their seats.

Lydia nodded. “Even prettier than you.”

“Nonsense.” Mrs. Bennet sat up very straight. “No one is prettier than our Jane.”

“They are far better dressed than we are,” Elizabeth said thoughtfully. “That gives them the appearance of greater beauty.”

“Well, with those gowns, they are going to steal all the gentlemen.” Lydia rested her elbows on her thighs, slumping forward.

“No worthy gentleman would select a wife based on her gown,” Mary said firmly.

Elizabeth cocked an eyebrow. “Then why do we put so much effort into them?”

Kitty looked down at her gown again. She hadn’t put any effort into her appearance and it showed. Not that all her best efforts would make a difference when compared to the Archers.

And Cat. Who wished to be called Cat? What a silly name.

“No one is stealing anyone.” Mrs. Bennet glared about the room, as if they were to blame for the beauty of the women who had just departed. “This is our community and you have first pick of any gentlemen. We were here long before these Archers.”

“But we have not even met Mr. Bingley, and they met Mr. Collins before we did,” Kitty pointed out, speaking as if her mother’s point made logical sense, as had become her habit. For, truly, what did a gentleman care who had been in the region longer? Didn’t gentlemen generally prefer what was new?

“And whose fault is that?” Mrs. Bennet turned her glare on her husband. “I asked you to call on Mr. Bingley. I pleaded with you to invite him for dinner. It is your duty as a gentleman and a father.”

“Yes, my dear.”

“And you have not.”

“No, my dear.”

“We have five daughters to see married.”

“I am aware.”

“You have no consideration for my—” Mrs. Bennet broke off as a heavy tread on the staircase signaled the return of Mr. Collins.

A moment later he entered, and another round of awkward greetings commenced. Finally, however, they were all seated again, Mr. Collins near Jane, and tea called for.

That accomplished, Mr. Bennet said somewhat sternly, “You did not mention that you would be in the company of six ladies when you arrived here, sir.”

“No, no, I did not.” Mr. Collins skimmed a hand over his slicked hair, undoubtedly getting oil on his palm. “No time to, you see.”

“No time to?” Mrs. Bennet echoed with a note of incredulousness.

“My esteemed patroness, whom I very much hope one of my lovely cousins will have the honor of meeting.” He paused to beam a smile at Jane. “My esteemed patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, does not approve of familial estrangement. She approves of closeness amongst cousins. The better to keep the wealth of each family where it belongs. Her own daughter, Miss Anne de Bourgh, is engaged to her cousin, a Mr. Darcy.” Jane received another smile.

She looked down at her clasped hands.

“Fascinating,” Mr. Bennet said dryly. “But I am unclear how Lady Catherine’s views on consolidated wealth precluded you from writing to me about your cousins.”

“Ah, yes. In her wisdom, you see, Lady Catherine instructed me to make amends on both sides of my family. You see, my father was not only at odds with you, sir, but also with my late mother’s relations. Mrs. Archer is my mother’s cousin. As her sister, who is no longer with us, was married to a baron, I knew Lady Catherine, who holds all correct deference for rank, would most wish me to begin amends on my mother’s side of the family, where lies a connection to a member of the peerage.”

Even Mr. Bennet stared at Mr. Collins blankly, making Kitty not feel as foolish for having no notion of how that answered her father’s question.

“Mrs. Archer’s sister married a baron?” Mrs. Bennet’s voice held an awe Kitty couldn’t muster.

Mr. Collins beamed at her as if she were a most brilliant pupil. “Precisely, so it behooved me to begin my amends there.”

Mrs. Bennet craned her neck to look out the front window, though the Archers and their carriage were long since departed. “She did not say.”

“I am certain she did not wish to boast, Mama,” Jane said.

“‘As it is, you boast in your arrogance. All such boasting is evil,’” Mary quoted.

“And yet, I am certain that if our mother had a cousin who married a peer, we would hear the tale daily,” Elizabeth put in with a smirk.

Kitty frowned. Elizabeth had learned that from their father, that way of mocking their family, especially Mama, as if none of the rest of them knew they were being belittled.

Kitty wished she wouldn’t.

“Precisely.” Mr. Collins’ smile was for Mary and her hardly-relevant quote now.

Mary preened.

“And you did not write to me of them because?” Mr. Bennet prompted with a touch of exasperation.

“Oh, yes.” Mr. Collins turned back to him. “I had written to Mrs. Archer some six months ago to extend the olive branch of my acquaintance and my position as a recipient of Lady Catherine’s most vigorous patronage, and received only a rebuke containing a rather vile accusation that I had reached out only because her brother-by-marriage is a peer.” He shrugged. “I wrote back a stern denial and further explanation, and received a reply full of such dislike, such terrible accusations, that I consigned my correspondence with Mrs. Archer to the fire, and turned my attention to you, Mr. Bennet. That is, until not a week before my journey here. Of a sudden, Mrs. Archer wrote in a much improved tone, requesting that she and her daughters might visit me in Kent and meet myself and my esteemed patroness. I do not know by what miracle her mind changed, but she sounded an entirely different person. I, to be magnanimous and to show how forgiving a man I am, immediately accepted but attempted to put off the date, in part due to my planned trip here and in part due to still being wrought with her previous letter. For well it ‘tis divine to forgive, such impertinence from a female, even one who is a cousin to a baron, must be punished.”

Kitty struggled not to pull a face, trying to look as glossy eyed and uninterested as Lydia, who sat staring at the wall, her thoughts obviously elsewhere.

“To my surprise, Mrs. Archer wrote back saying that she and her daughters would simply travel here with me. They would come to Kent to retrieve me, and join me in my inspection of my forthcoming estate. By the time all of this was conveyed to me, they were already on their way to Kent to collect me, and in fact arrived mere hours after their letter. I had no time to compose a proper missive to you, sir, for I hardly had time to make ready to depart.”

Mr. Bennet stared at him for a long moment. “I see.”

Elizabeth cast their father a quick look, then asked, “In any of your letters to her, did you mention to Mrs. Archer that you meant to inspect Longbourn, which you will someday hold?”

“Certainly. Lady Catherine does not espouse false modesty.”

Elizabeth exchanged another look with their father.

“She means you to marry one of those ghastly redheads of hers,” Mrs. Bennet exclaimed, catching up to them. “She wishes not only a Collins, but an Archer in Longbourn.”

“They looked far too fine for Longbourn,” Mary said stiffly. “And far too vain for a clergyman. ‘I have seen everything that is done under the sun, and behold, all is vanity and a striving after wind.’”

“I will no longer be a clergyman once I am master here. It would not be appropriate.”

That earned Mr. Collins a room full of flat stares.

“I believe it is time to change for supper,” Mr. Bennet said into the ensuing silence.

Of accord, they all rose and left the room, Kitty following Lydia to theirs. Predictably, her sister set to babbling about the Archers’ gowns and their hair and their height. Kitty attempted to pay enough attention to be able to murmur acceptable responses, her mind on Mr. Collins’ other cousins as well.

Had they come so that one of them might marry him? Or, perhaps, to evaluate Longborn and decide if one of them should marry him? If so, she hoped they found her home too ‘cozy’ to trouble with. Not that she wanted to marry Mr. Collins. Or wanted any of her sisters to. He seems rather pompous. Still, as Jane said, if one of them did, all of their troubles regarding the entail and someday being cast from their home would be over. If one of the Archers married him, Kitty had a feeling that all of their troubles had only just begun.