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Congratulations on your engagement, Colonel Fitzwilliam tells Charlotte Lucas, as they eat dinner before the dancing commences at the assembly.
Thank you Colonel, she says without a hint of enthusiasm, and then abruptly changes the subject. I’ve been lead to understand you are to be sent to the war effort in our former colonies.
Yes, I am to rejoin my unit in New Orleans.
Do you speak Spanish, Colonel? She asks.
I picked up some in the Peninsular campaign. Why do you ask, Miss Lucas?
Colonel, my father doesn’t like it talked about, but my dearly departed brother was in trade in New Orleans, when he got the pox, and passed from this mortal coil.
I’m sorry to hear that, Miss Lucas. Please allow me to express my condolences.
Thank you, sir.
She appraises him in silence for a moment with steady eyes that are hazel, and yet seem to change color when he gazes into them.
Colonel, I have maps of his and letters that may provide intelligence useful to you, along with names and character sketches of the principals in the locality where you are to be billeted. My friend Elizabeth and I are planning to walk into Meryton tomorrow. I’ll bring them along in my basket to give to you if you might be interested.
I am very interested, Miss Lucas.
Good, we’ll wait for you by the chestnut tree along the river trail, near the claybanks. Do you know it, sir?
I do, he replies.
She excuses herself and goes and visits with her particular friend, the aforenamed Miss Bennett.
Intrigued, the Colonel watched Charlotte throughout the rest of the ball, her fiance having left Meryton to procure a special license. Constant were the congratulations upon her engagement, which she accepted with a serene countenance. She danced well and had an attractive figure with a full high bosom. Her mouth was rather large, her nose pronounced, her hair done up in an austere bun, but she was by no means an unhandsome woman, he decided.
What a waste, he mutters, remembering the man she was engaged to marry.
***
The following day, the Colonel saddles his horse early, before the house is awake. There’s dew on the grass as he rides up Oakham Mount, and he dismounts and reads his favorite chapter of Machievelli's The Prince on the role of Fortune in worldly affairs. Later on after the sun has burned off the dew, he rides down the lane toward Meryton.
He sees Miss Lucas in the shade of the chestnut tree alone. She’s wearing her bonnet and clutching a basket.
I apologize, sir, but I cannot stay. She announces upon his arrival. My friend Elizabeth Bennett is late in joining me. I’ll commit these to your keeping, and bid you good day. She hands him an oilskin containing the correspondence. He accepts them wordlessly, and sees her scratch his horse under the chin quickly.
My best wishes, Colonel. She curtsies, and he touches his hat and watches her walk away along the riverbank.
Well, Mr. Ed, let's see what we can learn, he says to his horse. Dismounting, he drops the reins and sits down under the shade of the tree.
He opens the oilskin and pulls out the correspondence. Enclosed is a plan of the city, along with a Spanish map of the new world. He translates "Red River" from one of the place names. He starts reading the letters when he hears a distant feminine cry of alarm. He drops the packet, grabs the reins and leaps on his horse, and gallops at a dead run toward the source of the distress.
Horse and rider proceed at breakneck speed along the rivers edge and soon they see Charlotte in the river, covered with mud and dirt, her basket floating downstream.
He immediately dismounts his horse, takes off his coat, sets it over his saddle, and clamors down the claybank. At the waters edge his feet shoot out from under him, and he slides into the river and submerges.
He stands up in the waist deep water sputtering, and sees Charlotte doubled over in laughter. That was the funniest thing I have ever seen, she cackles. He laughs with her and offers her his arm, they emerge all soggy from the river, and look up at the horse above them, who is watching the scene below with curiosity. They both laugh some more.
Charlotte takes off her bonnet which undoes her hair, her tresses spilling down her back.
I am not climbing that bank, she declares.
She wades back into the river and starts swimming downstream, after her basket.
Colonel Fitzwilliam struggles to climb the hill, but cannot, and eventually enters the river and swims after Charlotte, now far ahead of him.
Charlotte sloshes ashore with her basket on a sandbar, several hundred yards downstream and deposits it, her bonnet atop. Then reenters the river and starts wiping the clay and mud off her dress. Colonel Fitzwilliam comes ashore and sits down on the bank and empties his boots, then puts them back on, and goes to fetch his horse.
When he comes back, he spies Charlotte in her slip, wringing out her dress. He stares at her shapely bottom. His horse nickers and she abruptly turns around, and he sees her pert bosom clearly through the slip. She abruptly holds the wet dress up to her as a screen.
I thought you had left, she admits, blushing fiercely.
I will see you safely home, Miss Lucas, he announces.
Thank you, sir, but that will not be necessary. Charlotte protests.
I disagree and I cannot and will not leave a lady in distress, he declaims.
She turns around and wrings out the dress one final time, then slips it over her head and puts her arms through the sleeves. After she has made some adjustments, she turns around.
How do I look? She asks him.
Like you fell in the river, he says grinning.
She laughs and reaches back with her hands to free her wet hair.
His horse nickers, and she goes up to it and strokes its face.
The horse nuzzles her hair and then tugs on the shoulder of her dress. It tears slightly.
Horse! Charlotte reprimands good naturedly.
The animal nickers again.
Steady on there, Mr. Ed, his owner declaims.
Please, take my coat, Miss Lucas.
Charlotte, she corrects him. We are beyond formalities, Colonel.
Allow me, Charlotte. He holds the coat open for her, and she slips her arms into the sleeves. She startles as he pulls her hair back and arranges it for her. Thank you, sir. She says stiffly, frowning.
Wilbur, he announces his first name, letting go of her hair.
I left the oilskin under the chestnut where I was reading the papers when I heard your cry. Please excuse me while I fetch it and my hat, then I will see you home.
He mounts his horse and rides away.
No sooner after he’s left, Lizzy emerges from the trail. She gasps when she sees Charlotte.
What happened? Her friend asks.
***
Colonel Fitzwilliam returns five minutes later, oilskin packet in hand, to find two girls waiting for him. Charlotte’s hair is now fixed and she’s wearing her bonnet once again.
Good day, Miss Bennett.
Good day, Colonel, she says, with an amused expression, as he's not wearing a hat and is in his shirtsleeves.
He dismounts.
Shall we be off? He asks.
You are released, sir. Elizabeth tells him. I’ll see my friend home.
Lizzie notes the look of disappointment that momentarily crosses his face.
The palomino horse nickers.
I’m of a mind to take a switch to you for attempting to compromise my friend, Elizabeth tells the horse.
The horse ducks its head at the disapproval in her tone.
Everyone laughs. I do think he can understand us, Lizzy declares.
Thank you, Colonel, for coming to my aid. Charlotte says, smiling at him, showing her brilliant white teeth. I shall send a servant to return your coat to Netherfield.
He grins at her. I am glad I could be of amusement, Miss Lucas, if not of assistance.
Elizabeth looks between them as they both laugh.
On the ride back, he meditates on the delights of a pair of fine breasts, silky wet tresses, a toothy smile, and musical laughter.
***
Darcy sees his cousin come riding in in his shirtsleeves, with no hat.
Good heavens, what in the world happened to you, man?
I fell into the river. I need out of these wet boots.
Give Mr. Ed an extra course of oats, and a thorough currying, he tells the stable boy who comes out to take the horse.
He walks inside, leaving Darcy looking after him.
Once he’s properly attired, he comes out and finds that everyone is waiting for him at the drawing room.
Darcy, Bingley - I need your advice.
Let us retire to my study, Bingley announces.
Once the door is closed, Bingley produces a bottle of brandy.
I need something stronger, the Colonel declaims.
Bingley comes out with a bottle of scotch, and pours each a healthy glass.
And the Colonel proceeds to tell the tale.
***
You did not compromise her, Bingley states. Your actions were both honorable and gentlemanly.
I freed her hair after I helped her into my coat. The Colonel admits.
That was very forward of you, Darcy states flatly, disapproval written on his face, but I see no cause for you to offer for her, as she is engaged to Parson Collins.
I have seen her scantily clad, cousin, and I wish to make her my wife most urgently. Her figure is perfection. Her hair is silken. Her smile and her laughter are necessary for the completion of my happiness.
Then we are agreed that she has been compromised, Bingley announces with a wide grin. We will ride over with you, Colonel.
***
A servant brings the three gentleman into the Lucas residence. Darcy sees Elizabeth smile at Colonel Fitzwilliam, while Charlotte blushes and looks at the floor.
Will you join us for supper? Lady Lucas asks.
Nothing would be more agreeable, Bingley says beaming.
I must speak to Sir William at once, the Colonel announces.
Charlotte and Lizzie exchange an alarmed glance.
He has gone himself to pick up Mr. Collins from the post, they should be arriving shortly, Lady Lucas states. In fact, I hear the carriage arriving now. She looks out the window and sighs.
The men stand when Sir Lucas and Mr. Collins come into the room.
My darling Charlotte, Mr. Collins announces and starts to make a beeline to her.
He's intercepted by Mr. Darcy, who latches on to his arm.
Mr. Collins, sir, I have an urgent private matter to discuss with you - in private, Darcy repeats. I am in need of pastoral care!
Mr. Collins looks up at him, shocked.
Of course, Mr. Darcy.
It will not wait, Darcy insists in a tone that will not be brooked.
Charlotte and Lizzy exchange another alarmed glance as the men leave the room.
Colonel Fitzwilliam approaches her father. Sir William, I must speak to you. A matter of the utmost urgency.
Of course.
***
I have compromised your daughter. You must allow me to marry her at once by special license.
You have compromised Mariah? The man exclaims in horror. The Colonel rolls his eyes. Charlotte. My friends have counseled me to do the honorable thing, and Darcy is right now discussing a settlement with Parson Collins…
Sir Lucas is - for the first time in his life - at a loss for words.
***
Sir, a friend has become enamored with a lady. The violence of his passion is such that he is want to forcibly remove her from the protection of her family. He is a dangerous man, and quite capable of doing just that.
Mr. Darcy, lust is a sin common to man, but we have only to look at the case of Amnon and Tamar in the Holy Scriptures to know how that will end...
Darcy interrupts. It's more complicated than that, sir. She is a gentlewoman, only recently engaged to an upright gentleman, also known to me. My friend has asked me to inform him of his intentions, and discuss a settlement. How do I even go about doing that?
Mr. Collins considers this. How did this situation come to be?
My friend was taking a leisurely ride through the countryside to town, when he heard a distant cry of distress. He hurried to its source and saw that a claybank had collapsed, and a lady fallen into the river. When he reached the scene, she was in a state of undress and he could not help but feast his eyes upon her. She immediately covered herself, but his intention is now fixed.
I see, Mr. Collins admits.
I do not believe you do yet, Darcy entones solemnly. Her fiance is a dead man if I cannot convince him to accept a settlement to break the engagement and keep his silence and not bear false witness against her. She has done nothing wrong, and must not be made to bear any stigma.
Your friend is quite determined to have her for a wife? To cherish and honour for as long as she lives? Mr. Collins asks.
He is, and he is a man of fixed purpose.
This is indeed most perplexing, Mr. Darcy.
Joseph was resolved to put the Blessed Mary away quietly, when she was discovered to be with child, but an angel commanded him to marry her, Mr. Collins muses. Where is an angel when you need one? he tries to joke. Mr. Darcy's face remains impassive. Mr. Collins clears his throat.
What would happen if the man released his fiance? Surely he would be censured? Mr. Collins asks.
My friend would take his new wife across the Atlantic, to separate her from the memory of her intended. Her former fiance would be free to marry as he chooses, with no stigma attached.
Mr. Collins nods at this.
Do you think a settlement of 1,000 pounds would be sufficient for him to maintain his silence and break the engagement?
Mr. Collins gasps. Such a sum! He exclaims.
But the aggrieved party is a most noble gentleman, and might just tear up my cheque and accuse me of offering but thirty pieces of silver for his intended, Mr. Darcy audits himself aloud.
When all this is explained to him, I’m certain that any rational man would not object. After all - all women look alike in the dark, Mr. Collins says with a raised eyebrow. Both men break out into nervous laughter.
How do I broach the subject though? Mr. Darcy asks, without incurring his lifelong enmity, when I desire his good opinion.
I will accompany you, Mr. Darcy, and act as the intermediary.
You are too good, sir. Darcy extends his hand. Mr. Collins shakes it.
We have a deal then.
We do, Mr. Collins proclaims.
Darcy sighs. I knew you saw through my disguise. I’ll have my man send a cheque to Hunsford. Colonel Fitzwilliam will take his Charlotte forthwith from this neighborhood and join his unit in New Orleans. It would be best, sir, if you did not come back inside.
Mr. Collins gasps, his mouth open.
He sees that Darcy has his hand over his heart and his eyes closed. Thank you, sir, Darcy exhales. I shall inform Lady Catherine myself of this selfless gesture done in the service of her favorite nephew.
Mr. Collins attempts to gather his composure.
Elizabeth comes outside, and sees the two men standing together.
Pardon me, sirs. I am feeling unwell. Will you escort me home, cousin? Lizzy asks.
She takes his arm and leads him away.
For once in his life, Mr. Collins is silent.
***
When they come in sight of Longbourne, Elizabeth pauses.
Forgive me for being forward, sir, but my sister Mary esteems you greatly.
Perhaps, sir, you might apply to my father for permission to exchange letters with her.
He looks up at her, the light returning to his eyes.