My Virtual Darcy 🏆 2021 Wattys Shortlister

15 - The Swan and the Ostrich

My bad, she didn't suggest it. She commanded the poor chap to take a wife.

"Allow me, by the way, to observe, my fair cousin, 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 intelligence and smartness, I think, must be acceptable to her, especially when tempered with the silence and respect which her rank will inevitably excite."

Silence and respect? More like muteness and terror.

"Thus much for my general intention in favour of matrimony; it remains to be told why my views were directed towards Longbourn instead of my own neighbourhood, where I can assure you there are many amiable young women. But the fact is, that being, as I am, to inherit this estate after the death of your honoured father (who, however, may live many years longer), I could not satisfy myself without resolving to choose a wife from among his daughters, that the loss to them might be as little as possible, when the melancholy event takes place--which, however, as I have already said, may not be for several years."

Hear hear.

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

Violence of my affection? Wow. Collins was in character.

"To fortune I am perfectly indifferent, and shall make no demand of that nature on your father, since I am well aware that it could not be complied with; and that one thousand pounds in the four per cents, which will not be yours till after your mother's decease, is all that you may ever be entitled to."

Indifferent but well-informed, obviously.

"On that head, therefore, I shall be uniformly silent; and you may assure yourself that no ungenerous reproach shall ever pass my lips when we are married."

When we are married? I held my breath, waiting for Mary to correct this impudent man.

"You are too hasty, sir." She chuckled. "You forget that I have made no answer."

That was it? Quite a timorous rebuff, sis'.

Mr. Collins' voice softened. "I am not now to learn that it is usual with young ladies to reject the addresses of the man whom they secretly mean to accept, when he first applies for their favour; and that sometimes the refusal is repeated a second, or even a third time. I am therefore by no means discouraged by what you have just said, and shall hope to lead you to the altar ere long."

The rustling of cloth, followed by slow steps, indicated that Mary had got up and was pacing the room. "Alas, Mr. Collins. Leave us, poor women, the illusion of having fooled you."

My brows furrowed with confusion. Was she... flirting with him?

Mr. Collins stood silent a few moments. He then cleared his throat, and a loud thump startled Mrs. Bennet and me. "There, I am at your feet."

Wait, was he kneeling? Urgh, I wished I could see them.

A light bulb went on in my head. "Bridge, any chances I could assist to this conversation? Please?"

I bit my lower lip, hoping that Theo was still online. His answer appeared within seconds.

Didn't curiosity kill the cat?

I muttered under my breath. "We already established that the cat's alive. Can I see inside, please? Pretty please?"

Set wall opacity to 0 and increased volume by 30 percents. Have fun ;)

The wall separating the hallway from the breakfast room disappeared, revealing a most surprising scene.

The morning light bathed their huddling silhouettes, adding a soft glow to Mary's dark mane. Mr. Collins was on a knee and holding her hand, his hopeful face towards the lady he was courting. Their tender gazes locked, and various shades of pink spread from their noses to their ears.

"I cannot live without you, Miss Mary. With each passing day, the similarity of our minds became more and more evident. I believe I could make you very happy. So, again, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?"

She crouched down and made him stand up. "Of course, silly."

Awkward confusion agitated Collins' features. "Is that a yes?"

Mary grinned, a dimple forming on her right cheek. "Yes, Mr. Collins, I will become your wife."

Relief swept through his countenance, and he pressed his lips on her nimble fingers in adoration.

As they jumped into each other's arms, I groaned. "How? This isn't supposed to happen."

"Hush." Mrs. Bennet narrowed her eyes at me and mumbled, "I cannot hear a thing. Did he propose yet?"

Before I could answer by the affirmative, Mary and Mr. Collins walked in our direction. Quick. I grabbed Mrs. Bennet's forearm and pulled her away from the door, half-whispering, "They're coming."

We stood on the last step of the staircase, pretending to be going down.

The moment the happy couple spotted us, Mary's face broke into a sheepish grin.

"Mr. Collins, am I to congratulate you and myself on the happy prospect of our nearer connection?" Mrs. Bennet trifled with our guest, satisfaction glinting in her eyes.

"I thank you, dear Mrs. Bennet, and congratulate you in return." Mr. Collins' deep bow was dignified and poised.

Before he could launch into the detailed retelling of his successful proposal, I curtsied and scampered away to my bedroom, bashing into a surprised Jane on the staircase. After locking the door, I flopped on my bed, shaken by this unexpected turn of events.

I had read theories about my middle sister's crush. Indeed, in the novel, after Lizzy's rejection, Mary had pondered the subject of marrying Collins. Though she had indubitably concluded that he was not as wise as her, she had esteemed him worthy to be her companion, if given the possibility of improving himself through reading. Nonetheless, I was not prepared for their obvious chemistry. These socially awkward characters somehow complemented each other, but I sure hoped they wouldn't become twice as much pedantic.

My forehead creased. Did I cause this? In truth, I had strayed away from the original plot now and again. However, I did not remember pushing Mary into my suitor's arms, unless... Did I somehow trigger a butterfly effect when I refused to sit by Mr. Collins' side the day of his arrival?

What about Charlotte? Did my digressions condemn her to a life of solitude and social disgrace? Would she maybe take Mary's place and wed one of our uncle's clerks?

Dread and angst twisted my insides as I logged off, and laid on my real bed.

What other consequences would I have to face?