Chapter Nine

Summoned by a maid, Elizabeth left off reading in her father’s study to join her mother and sisters in the front parlor. She entered and took her usual seat with Jane, relieved to find Mr. Collins absent. He’d only been with them for the lesser part of a week, but already she knew she could not abide his company.

Rather than sit, Mrs. Bennet stood before the low tea table, looking them over for a moment. “I have decided one of you must marry Mr. Collins.”

Elizabeth snapped her jaw closed over her shock. “The man is odious.”

Mary swiveled to glare at her. “You should speak with greater respect about a clergyman and our guest.”

Elizabeth met her sister’s gaze calmly. “I should, yes, were he worthy of such treatment.”

“It cannot be Jane or Lydia,” Mrs. Bennet continued, not seeming to notice Elizabeth’s exchange with Mary. “I am certain that once we meet Mr. Bingley, he will choose either Jane or Lydia.”

“Miss King said she heard from the butcher that Mr. Bingley will attend the next assembly, and bring guests,” Lydia said, sitting forward eagerly.

“Oh, I do despise a September assembly.” Mrs. Bennet issued a dramatic sigh. “It is so warm still in September. Better for Mr. Bingley to have arrived next month.”

“But we must attend, Mama.” Lydia looked about in something near panic. “I must meet Mr. Bingley if I am to marry him.”

“That would be the proper order of events,” Elizabeth murmured. She cast a quick look at Jane to share her mirth, only to find her older sister’s face downturned, her cheeks pale.

“Do you think the Archers will attend?” Lydia asked.

“We can only hope that a country assembly would be too cozy for their liking.” Elizabeth grinned, enjoying her reference.

“I hope they do attend, so we may learn more about them, as they are our relations through Mr. Collins.” Mary pushed her spectacles up on her nose. “‘Love one another with brotherly affection. Outdo one another in showing honor.’ That is, if we are to go, Mama?”

“Certainly we will attend. It seems we must, as Mr. Bennet does not see fit to do his duty and bring Mr. Bingley to us.” Mrs. Bennet brought balled hands to her hips. “And in the meantime…” Her gaze went from Elizabeth, to Mary, to Kitty. “Kitty, you must attempt to attract Mr. Collins.”

Kitty stared up at their mother in horror.

“Kitty cannot marry Mr. Collins.” Lydia shook her head as she spoke. “Kitty wishes to marry an officer. You know that, Mama.”

“Do you see an officer?” Mrs. Bennet made a show of looking about. “Do any of you know an officer? Short of a militia being stationed in Meryton—”

“We could go to Brighton,” Lydia broke in eagerly. “There are many officers there.”

“—none of you is going to meet an officer.”

“Please, Mama.” Kitty sounded truly bereaved. “I do not want to marry him. He is so…so oily.”

Elizabeth cast her younger sister a pitying look, and gave silent thanks that their mother hadn’t settled on her for the task.

“I should marry Mr. Collins,” Jane said quietly, finally looking up from her clasped hands.

“Jane, no,” Elizabeth protested. Jane could not be squandered on such a horrible man.

“He has shown me the marked preference.”

“He has been here less than a week.” Elizabeth shook her head. “He cannot know who he might prefer.”

“Elizabeth is correct,” Mrs. Bennet said over Jane’s next words. “You are for Mr. Bingley, or one of his wealthy London friends. Kitty will do for Mr. Collins.”

Kitty looking about with wide, worried eyes. “But Mama, I—”

“Shh,” Mrs. Bennet hissed, cocking her head.

Elizabeth heard it as well. The clod of Mr. Collins’ footfalls coming down the front staircase.

A moment later, he appeared in the parlor doorway, dressed for going out. “Mrs. Bennet. My fair cousins. Such an assembly of fine faces and receptive minds.”

“Receptive minds?” Elizabeth repeated, relatively certain she was being insulted.

Mr. Collins nodded. “Yes. I have observed that only Cousin Mary spends sufficient time in retrospection and study, which leads me to believe that the remainder of you have open, uncluttered minds. While I am here, I will make it my duty to fill them properly.”

“But Elizabeth reads far more than Mary.” Lydia gestured vaguely in Elizabeth’s direction.

“Yet of such texts as are not appropriate for a young lady.” Mr. Collins’ brow furrowed. “Philosophy. Husbandry. Texts on the natural world.”

Elizabeth drew her shoulders back. “What would you have me read, sir?”

“Your Bible, certainly, and Fordyce. His advice for the conduct of young ladies is impeccable. When I have the opportunity, I will read to you from his work.”

“Have you no time now?” Mrs. Bennet gestured to where Kitty and Lydia occupied a couch. “Kitty was only moments ago saying how she adores your readings. Were you not, Kitty?”

Kitty stared at their mother, her face white.

“Did she indeed?” Mr. Collins’s smile held all the satisfaction of a cat clasping a mouse in its mouth, but he shook his head. “Alas, I cannot rightly fill your young mind with intelligent sentiments at this moment. When out walking with my cousins the Archers yesterday, I agreed to a carriage ride today.”

“You have been out with the Archers every day since arriving here,” Mrs. Bennet said tartly, though Elizabeth was rather pleased by Mr. Collins’ repeated absence.

“Yes. I have told them as much, but they are most insistent.” He issued Elizabeth’s mother a condescending look. “However, today one of your daughters is to be much honored. Mrs. Archer’s carriage seats four across, and there are but seven of us, including me. I asked if I might, and was given the condescension to, invite one of my fair Bennet cousins along on our ride.” He turned to Jane. “I believe Cousin J—”

“Kitty will go,” Mrs. Bennet said loudly.

Mr. Collins turned back, blinking. “Miss Kitty?” He looked about twice before his gaze settled on Elizabeth’s younger sister, as if he couldn’t recall which of them was Kitty.

Mrs. Bennet cast Kitty a hard glare.

Kitty looked at Jane, who sat with her shoulders curled inward and her face turned down, then snapped a smile into place. “I would be pleased to accompany you, Mr. Collins, and to take back up my discussion of the name Catherine with Miss Cat.”

“My patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, would not approve of such a conversation. Her ladyship, in her wisdom, does not permit nicknames. Especially of her own grand moniker.”

Kitty blinked, appearing confused.

An expression Elizabeth no longer fully believed. Kitty never looked confused when she went about early in the morning chatting with people.

“You can impart all of Lady Catherine’s wisdom to Kitty on your ride,” Mrs. Bennet said firmly. “Kitty, fetch your bonnet.”

Kitty popped up. “Certainly.” If her smile appeared more like gritted teeth than a joyous grin, Elizabeth didn’t believe Mr. Collins took any note.

***

Kitty let Mr. Collins hand her into the carriage to the sight of Mrs. Archer and her three eldest daughters, Miss Jacoline Archer, Miss Edith, and Miss Mabel, in the forward facing seat, which left Kitty to sit with Miss Laura, Mr. Collins…and Cat. Kitty kept her smile firmly in place as she climbed in.

“Oh, Kitty, you are joining us,” Cat said with an enthusiasm Kitty didn’t trust. “I may call you Kitty, may I not? Sharing a name, I feel we are already the best of friends. Here, you sit by the window so you may enjoy the view.”

Normally, Kitty would easily agree to such a request, but Cat’s false affection grated. “Oh no. I could not. I have seen the views here for the entirety of my days. You should sit by the window, Cat.” Kitty blinked at her. “I may call you Cat, may I not? We are meant to be such dear friends, as you say.”

Cat, who’d been in the process of sliding over, cast her a quick, narrow eyed look.

Kitty kept her face blank, as she did when Lydia spoke for her.

“How considerate you are.” Cat slid over to the window. “Is Kitty not such a sweet girl?” she asked the carriage at large.

“Please, sit, Miss Kitty, so Mr. Collins may enter.” Mrs. Archer gestured.

Miss Laura, her eyes glinting, turned a smirk on Kitty. “Do you know? There are two windows. How silly of us not to think of that. You sit there, Miss Kitty.” She slid over as well, leaving a space for Mr. Collins between her and Cat.

Deciding to concede this round, especially as she did not actually wish to sit beside Mr. Collins, Kitty did as asked. Mr. Collins joined them to a cascade of greetings. The strong, resinous odor of his hair oil filled the carriage along with him, and Kitty struggled to hide a grimace. As much as she didn’t wish for these Archers to win, Kitty would do well to keep the prize in mind lest she truly end up attracting Mr. Collins.

Or should she try? Which would be more dreadful, to be married to Mr. Collins, or for an Archer to be mistress of Longbourn?

Kitty simply did not know.

At a signal from Mrs. Archer, the carriage moved forward. Rather than looking out the window, Kitty turned her attention to the sumptuous conveyance and those within. The seat upon which she sat was soft, the ride well sprung, and the curtains made of velvet tied back with ivory silk cords. And, as when they’d met, the Archer women wore gowns in the height of fashion, perfectly cut and crafted from rich fabrics. Kitty looked down at her made over gown and suppressed a sigh.

She likely need not worry about attracting Mr. Collins away from the Archers.

“Now, Miss Kitty, you must point out the sights as we pass,” Mrs. Archer said.

“And you must tell us what there is to do hereabouts for entertainment,” Miss Archer added.

“I heard rumor of an assembly,” Miss Laura said before Kitty could formulate a reply. She spoke loudly and with too much cheer.

The effect of being the youngest of five? Was that why Lydia generally talked in such a manner? Kitty had assumed it was her younger sister’s personality, or how Mrs. Bennet spoiled her. But then, mayhap Mrs. Archer spoiled her youngest as well.

“Not that I will be permitted to attend,” Miss Laura added.

“You will not?” Kitty asked, surprised but also relieved. Perhaps they needn’t fend off Archers at every turn, then.

“Certainly not.” Mrs. Archer offered her youngest an indulgent smile. “Laura is not out yet. It would be terribly improper to have five daughters out at once. Especially as Laura is so young still.”

Perhaps Mrs. Archer didn’t spoil her youngest overmuch, then. Kitty sucked in a deep breath to fend off a blush and willed none of them to ask if Lydia was out.

“Where might one even hold an assembly hereabouts?” Cat asked, looking about the carriage as if she might spot a location within.

 “We have a fine assembly hall.” Kitty fought against the slight edge in her voice. “Surely, residing at the Longs as you are, you have seen it?”

“Have we?” Miss Edith’s frown seemed no more real than Cat’s smile had.

Were the six always playacting? “Yes, you must have. The large white building across from the church,” Kitty clarified.

“Large…” Miss Edith trailed off. “Oh dear. I would not have thought that building houses sufficient space for a gathering. Not one worth attending, leastwise.”

Then do not. Kitty barely managed to hold the words in.

Mrs. Archer chuckled. “Everything hereabouts is so very quaint.”

“Yes,” Miss Archer agreed. “And cozy.”

They truly enjoyed that word, it seemed. Kitty made certain to give no reaction. Instead, she cast her attention to Miss Mabel, the only one of the six not to speak yet, only to find she gazed out the window, paying their conversation no mind.

“Do you have any sights, then?” Miss Edith asked. “Any natural wonders?”

“We have Oakham Mount. We will pass the trail leading there momentarily.” Kitty gestured to her left. “It offers a lovely view of the countryside. It is the highest point for miles.”

Miss Mabel turned from the window, her nose wrinkled. “Yes. I have noted that Hertfordshire is remorsefully flat.”

Kitty stared at her. What could she say to that?

“Now, now, Mabel.” Mrs. Archer’s smile was warmer than those of her daughters. More genuine. She likely had more practice at pretense, being older. “Hertfordshire has considerable charm.” Mrs. Archer cast her middle child an indulgent look. “Our Mabel is a great one for country walks.”

“My sister Elizabeth enjoys walking,” Kitty offered.

“Miss Elizabeth is the shortest one with the dark hair?”

Kitty nodded, though she cared for Miss Mabel’s description not at all.

“I doubt she would be able to keep pace with me.”

“Fordyce recommends a sedate stride for a proper young lady,” Mr. Collins stated. “I should be happy to read from him for your benefit, my fair cousins.”

Mabel stared at him flatly for a moment, then turned her attention back out the window.

“Oh yes, you must read for us, Mr. Collins.” Cat fluttered her lashes at him as she spoke.

“And as you have already offered to read for us, Mr. Collins, you must practice on me and my sisters,” Kitty said, drawing his attention from Cat. “That way you can provide Mrs. Archer and her daughters a perfect reading. I am certain they are accustomed to very high standards and will look quite severely on anything less than perfection.”

His face took on a satisfyingly worried look.

“You will have our cousin believing us to be such monsters, Miss Kitty,” Miss Edith said on a laugh.

Before Kitty could reply, Miss Archer added, “How fortunate for you, Cousin, that the Bennet sisters have so little exposure to quality as to be such indifferent listeners on whom you might practice.”

“Yes,” Mr. Collins agreed affably. “My patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, has often pointed out to me that I am fortunate to speak to such unsullied minds as are found in my parishioners as well.”

Cat inched closer to him, as if she were not already by his side. “Is it difficult, imparting knowledge into such uninitiated minds?”

“Very,” he said, his expression grave. “At times, I fear little I say finds its way into their thoughts.”

“Then it is good that you have your Bennet cousins on whom to practice.” Cat leaned forward to aim a smirk at Kitty.

Kitty smiled back, working to remember that she did not even want Mr. Collins. Cat could have him.

But the idea of Cat as mistress of Longbourn rankled.

“Will we see you and your sisters, and dear Mrs. Bennet, at the assembly then?” Mrs. Archer asked.

Kitty wrenched her gaze free of Cat’s smugness. “I believe so, even though Mama does not care for the crush of a September assembly, as the weather tends to remain warm.”

“Yes. It is often difficult for women of your mother’s…” Mrs. Archer paused, searching for a word. “Presence, shall we say, to endure heat.”

Had Mrs. Archer just called Kitty’s mother fat? Why, if they were men, Kitty would challenge Mrs. Archer.

Would two women dueling over a man make a good caricature? What line would bring out the humor?

“I heard that gentleman who let Hinterfield Park will be there,” Miss Laura said, interrupting Kitty’s thoughts. “A Mr. Bingley, I believe. They say he has four thousand a year, and that he is bringing six gentlemen and ten ladies up from London.”

“Ridiculous,” Miss Mabel muttered.

“It is Netherfield Park,” Kitty corrected.

“I heard he will bring two gentlemen and eight ladies.” Cat turned to Kitty. “What have you heard?”

“Little as of yet. Likely, my mother and sisters are learning all as we speak.” They would be cheerfully at Longbourn receiving calls and having tea, while Kitty was stuck in this, admittedly grand, carriage with these Archers and Mr. Collins.

They continued to ride about the countryside, only Miss Mabel seeming to care about the view, while Cat flirted with Mr. Collins and the others speculated on who might come up from London for the assembly, until they entered the village. There, Mrs. Archer called a halt so her daughters might search for ribbons. As Kitty had not brought any money, she could not purchase any. Worse, Cat stayed by her side, so Kitty could not sneak away to chat with any of the people she usually sought information from in Meryton. She did notice, however, that while the Archers left with nearly half the ribbons in the shop, no money exchanged hands. Mrs. Archer imperiously told the shopkeeper to add the cost to her bill.