Belinda Roberts - Mr. Darcy Goes Overboard: A Tale of Tide & Prejudice

“No, Mr Collins! No!”

Later that day, Lizzy recoiled with a curious mix of horror, shame, and not a little amusement at what happened next. Her situation had been so precarious that she put into action the only weapon known to woman in such a state and kicked out. The effect was instantaneous. Mr Collins let out a howl of agony, let go of her, and hurtled across the tower to the other side and, to Lizzy’s horror, flipped over the far edge. She dashed across and peered over, expecting to see Mr Collins’s mangled body lying far below. Instead she saw his terrified face only a few feet away. By a miracle, he had been saved from certain death. His coat had caught on a large hook from which he was now dangling.

“Oh! Oh! Save me! Save me!” he whimpered. “Oh my! Oh! Oh! Oh!”

The crowd below had run round and were watching in amazement as Lizzy leant through the castellations and managed to pull the unfortunate Mr Collins up until he tottered on the wall and fell back onto the platform, crushing Lizzy beneath him.

It was this sight that met Mrs Bennet and her daughters on their return to the top of the tower.

“Mr Collins!”

Even Mrs Bennet was shocked by the ardour of Lizzy’s suitor. She had not expected the clergyman to be so forward in his expression of love as to be already on top of her daughter. How times had changed.

“Madam!” said Mr Collins, getting up hastily. “It is not what it seems! Oh my! Oh my!” And he hurried to the staircase, made his way down as fast as he could, and was surprised as he walked out into the sunshine at the bottom to be hit on the head by a parachuting Malcolm.

“Malcolm had a lovely descent!” called Lydia, giggling from the top of the tower.

“I, er…” Mr Collins left, alone, confused, and unsure whether his proposal had been a success or not. He decided to go and sit on a bench and gaze out to sea until the beating in his breast had subsided and he could ask Malcolm for advice.

* * *

“Well, Lizzy?” asked Mrs Bennet as they descended the winding stairway.

“I will not marry him, Mother!”

“You certainly will.”

“I shall not.”

“Let’s see what your father has to say about this!”

As they left the churchyard they were fortunate enough to bump into Mr Bennet.

“Lizzy will not marry Mr Collins!” announced a furious Mrs Bennet.

“Is this true, Lizzy?”

“I certainly will not!”

“Make her marry him, Mr Bennet! Think of the inheritance.”

“I will not!”

“If you do not, I will never speak to you again!” cried Mrs Bennet.

“Lizzy, my dear,” said Mr Bennet seriously, “an unhappy situation lies before you. You are on the verge of losing one or other of your parents. If you do not marry Mr Collins, your mother will never speak to you again. If you do marry Mr Collins, I will never speak to you again.”

And with that, Mr Bennet walked on, leaving Mrs Bennet furious, the Bennet girls in peals of laughter, and Lizzy much relieved.

Mr Collins spent the rest of the morning on the wooden bench overlooking pontoons where various holiday boats and fishing vessels were moored and which, fortunately for him, was already inhabited by Charlotte Lucas, who proved to be a friendly ear. News filtered through by way of passing Bennet girls whispering in Lottie’s ear that Lizzy had definitely refused Mr Collins, and he sat sulking. When Lizzy, herself, happened to walk by, he looked the other way, ignoring her. Lizzy was, in fact, on the way with her sisters to North Sands, where they were hoping to see some more of the red-and-yellow trainee lifeguards, and Mr Wickham in particular. As good fortune would have it, Wickham was there and delighted to see Lizzy.

“Sorry I didn’t make the Harbour Swim—but, you know with Darcy around, who knows what might have happened. Best to keep out of shark-infested waters!”

There was the evocative sound of Vivaldi’s Four Seasons “Allegro” from Jane’s phone. Jane went over to the rock pools to read the message. Lizzy could tell at once it was not good news and excused herself from the luscious Wickham.

“It is from Cazza,” said Jane. “Look.”

Hey, Jane—jtlyk all off to London 2 party. Not back for yonks. Chas in lve with Darcy’s sister, Georgiana… wedng on way?!! Muchos love, Cazza :)

“The cow!” Lizzy could not help herself. “She just wants to take Bingley away from you. I could strangle her with her own Boden tights!”

Charlotte Lucas’s generous ear to Mr Collins had, in Lizzy’s mind, a most startling outcome. The two girls had taken the topper out and were enjoying a blustery sail about the estuary when Charlotte felt the moment had come to confide in her best friend.

“Dear Lizzy…”

“Ready about!” called Lizzy.

“I have some news for you,” continued Lottie as she prepared to go about.

“Lee ho!” shouted Lizzy, pushing the tiller hard away from her and swinging the boat into wind and onto a port tack.

“…some news which may surprise you,” continued Lottie as she ducked under the boom. “I am engaged to Mr Collins.”

On this pronouncement of such monstrous news, the topper gybed alarmingly as Lizzy uncharacteristically lost control, and both girls were tossed into the sea. The little topper had turned turtle, and as the girls busied themselves righting the craft, the extraordinary conversation continued.

“Engaged to Mr Collins?” cried Lizzy, astounded. She stood on the upturned hull and, with Lottie’s assistance, managed to pull the boat so that the mainsail came up and lay flapping on the water. The news was so astonishing to Lizzy and the physical exertion so great that, standing on the centreboard and heaving on the side of the boat, she could not help crying out, “Lottie—impossible!”

As she gave true vent to her feelings, Lizzy simultaneously pulled with such vehemence that the boat righted itself too fast and went directly over onto the other side.

“No, I am afraid not,” said Lottie, swimming round to help Lizzy pull the boat upright again. “I see what you are feeling. You must be surprised—only this morning Mr Collins was wishing to marry you. But I am not romantic.” Lizzy and Lottie righted the boat at last, toppled in, and sat with the sail flapping as Lottie tried to explain to her astonished friend. “He is not a sensible man, nor agreeable; his society is irksome, but all I ask is for a comfortable home; and considering Mr Collins’s situation, I am convinced that my chance of happiness with him is as fair as most people can boast on entering the marriage state.”

“But what about your career? University?”

“My dear Lizzy. My purpose for university would be only to secure a career or a husband. Both are not necessary, and indeed, often cancel each other out. Since I already have the husband in hand, I have no need for university or career.”

Lizzy was defeated. She pulled at the sheet, set the boat on a starboard tack, smiled as best as she could at her friend, and replied kindly, “Undoubtedly, my dear Charlotte.”

As they sailed past The Ferry Inn, they saw Mr Collins enjoying a Bloody Mary. He smiled at Lottie and blew her a kiss, only briefly glancing, with a triumphant smirk, at Lizzy. How sweet was a jilted lover’s revenge!

Sir William Lucas was triumphant in Lottie’s engagement. Mrs Bennet was furious. Lady Lucas enjoyed her visits to 3 Island Street all the more, since in time her daughter would inherit it. Mr Collins—the cause of all the upset—departed for Rosings to tell Lady Catherine the good news.

Hey, Jane.—jtlyk having g8 time in London. Chas and Georgiana v close! Wedng bells rngng! Muchos love, Cazza :)

“Yo, gals! Why the miserable faces?”

The jolly smile of Wickham revived the spirits of Jane and Lizzy as they sat dangling their legs over the quayside, trying to catch crabs with bits of bacon strung to fishing lines whilst pondering this latest evil missive from Cazza Bingley. Jane was still determined to think well of her; Lizzy could only think ill and was sure Chas was still as crazy as ever about her sister. But it was strange, she must confess, for Bingley to have left so suddenly and without even saying good-bye.

“Caught one!” cried Lizzy, diverted by an encrusted crab that had just grabbed hold of her bait. Wickham gallantly attempted to remove the crustacean from her hook but in doing so was pinched viciously.

“Why! It’s a damn Darcy of a crab!” he cried, letting go. And so the conversation turned to Mr Darcy, what an appalling cad he was, and how nobody, apart from Jane, who could criticise nobody, had a good word to say about him. In short, he was universally despised.

Mrs Bennet’s misery was soon to be diverted by the arrival of her brother, Mr Gardiner, his wife, Mrs Gardiner, and a lively bunch of nephews and nieces. Aunt G was a great favourite of Jane and Lizzy, and despite their mother’s complaining how both had been nearly married—or at least had a boyfriend—and now neither were and neither had even a boyfriend, they managed to escape from time to time for a session at the lively Fortescue Inn, where over a bottle of blush and a game of pool, they talked of university options. After the merits of Durham, Bristol, Exeter, York, St Andrews, Oxford, King’s College, London, Edinburgh, Plymouth, Bath, and Brighton had been discussed at length, the last ball potted, and Jane had left temporarily to wash her hands, the talk turned to love.