Page 20

Rosings

Kent

Two Days Later

A blustery wind sent heavy clouds skidding across the sky and snatched at Mr. Collins's hat and breath as he ascended the steps of Rosings. A sharp damp nip in the air that promised rain later reddened his nose and bit at his toes in his boots. A summons had arrived for him from Lady Catherine, requiring his presence immediately, and he had scarcely taken time to button his coat before running out the door. Certainly, he would not keep his benevolent patroness waiting for as long as it would take for him to find and pull on his warmer winter boots.

Now, starting to catch his breath, he knocked rapidly on the door. He had not long to wait and was still panting slightly in the cool air when the butler swung the ponderous oak door open on silent hinges. Collins stepped inside and handed over hat and gloves. The butler remained silent but glided regally down the hall to open the appropriate door.

"Mr. Collins," he announced and retreated .

Collins entered and looked about nervously. The family was sitting in one of the smaller parlors today, but it was no less grand for all that – every piece of furniture, every knickknack and decoration, displayed the impeccable taste of the mistress of Rosings. In the midst of it all, like a jewel in a fine gold setting, in the wingback chair in front of the fire, sat Lady Catherine herself. She was dressed as befitted an earl’s daughter, with the finest of furs lining her velvet gown and a deep emerald flashing green fire at her throat. Miss de Bourgh, seated facing her mother, coughed delicately into a handkerchief, and Mrs. Jenkins leaned forward anxiously on her stool.

Lady Catherine, for once, was not all solicitous concern about her beloved daughter’s ill health. A piece of paper was clutched angrily in one hand, and her face was flushed with outrage.

“Mr. Collins,” she cried out. “It is about time you have arrived.”

“My apologies, my lady,” Collins replied with a deep bow. “I came as quickly as I could. How may I serve you?”

She rose to her feet, marched over, and thrust the paper into his hands. “Read this, Mr. Collins, and tell me whether it is true or not! ”

Collins accepted the letter in a daze and walked closer to the fire so that the light of the wax candles on the mantle would fall upon the page. He focused on the words, which were written in firm, bold strokes.

Hertfordshire

My lady,

On 27th November, a Miss Elizabeth Bennet compromised your nephew, Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, at Netherfield Hall in Hertfordshire during a ball. Mr. Darcy, being an honorable gentleman, made the lady an offer of marriage, which she has, of course, accepted.

I am familiar with your nephew’s longstanding engagement to Miss de Bourgh, and I wished to make you aware of this dreadful situation.

With much respect and reverence,

A Friend

Collins read the letter once more and then lifted a shocked face to his patroness .

“Lady Catherine, I assure you I know nothing of this!” he exclaimed. “Indeed, it seems entirely impossible.”

Catherine de Bourgh’s expression shifted from furious to grim, which was an improvement in Collins’s mind. “I am glad to hear that, Mr. Collins. I presume this Miss Elizabeth Bennet is one of your cousins.”

“Indeed, she is,” the rector said. “She is the second of the five sisters.”

He chose to say nothing more, as he was still hurt and embarrassed by his cousin Elizabeth’s refusal of his most benevolent offer of marriage.

“What do you know about the ball mentioned in the letter?” Lady Catherine demanded.

“I attended it along with my cousins,” Collins replied nervously.

Lady Catherine took a step forward and challenged, “And what of my nephew Darcy? Was he there as well?”

“He was, my lady. Indeed, I introduced myself to him and told him that you and Miss de Bourgh, the fairest lady in all of Kent, were doing well.”

“You introduced yourself to him?” his patroness demanded sharply. “That was not well done, Mr. Collins. My nephew, being of higher rank, is the one who has the right to ask for an introduction.”

Collins shrunk at these words and said, “My heartfelt apologies for my actions, though I must say that Mr. Darcy seemed much pleased with the attention. He answered me with the utmost civility and even paid me the compliment of saying that he was so well convinced of your discernment as to be certain you could never bestow a favor unworthily, speaking of course of your kindness in bestowing the Hunsford living on me.”

“I suppose it does not matter a great deal,” Lady Catherine replied to his profound relief. “But tell me, did you observe Mr. Darcy paying much attention to this Miss Elizabeth Bennet?”

“No, Madame,” he replied eagerly. “He danced with her but one set, and the rest of the time…”

“He danced with her?” the mistress of Rosings interrupted. “Which dance?”

“I believe it was the third or fourth,” Collins stammered. “It was a ball, of course, so surely it meant nothing…”

“Darcy is very careful about dancing,” Lady Catherine interposed, her eyes narrowed. “I do not like it, not at all. But I presume that you would have noticed if there had been a compromise on the dance floor itself. ”

“Assuredly, and naught happened. I am confident.”

“And what of the rest of the evening? Was there any time when Darcy could have been compromised by this young woman?”

Collins wrinkled his brow and turned to stare out a window towards the glorious forest to the north of Rosings. He remembered the ball very well, because he had, at that time, been intending to marry Miss Elizabeth and thus had chosen to spend the entire evening either dancing or speaking with her. There had been a full hour after dinner when he could not find her at all, which at the time had annoyed him thoroughly. But he had not been concentrating on Mr. Darcy at the time, so…

“Tell me what you are thinking, Mr. Collins,” Lady Catherine ordered.

He winced and said, “I remember that Miss Elizabeth was not in the ball room for at least an hour after supper, but I was not watching for Mr. Darcy, so I do not know. I presume that he was on the dance floor during that hour.”

“I find that unlikely,” Miss de Bourgh said, speaking for the first time. “Darcy is not fond of dancing, especially with strangers.”

“Well, I will not have it!” Lady Catherine bellowed so loudly that Collins could not keep from squeaking in distress. “Mr. Collins, pack your bags. You will be accompanying me to Hertfordshire. I have no intention of allowing some upstart young woman to interfere with my nephew’s marriage to my daughter. Do you understand?”

“Of course,” Collins replied instantly, bobbing his head meekly. “I understand.”

***

In Front of Longbourn

The carriage jerked into motion, and Elizabeth leaned back and forced herself to relax against the squabs.

As much as she usually enjoyed traveling, packing was never a task she relished, and this time there was an added agitation, with the malicious rumors that were flying around Meryton.

It had been nearly a week since Mr. Bennet had traveled to London in company with Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy, and in the interim the gentlemen had had been busy seeking and hiring a house. Longbourn too had been in an uproar, with Mrs. Bennet bustling about in hysterical excitement, keeping up a constant stream of orders, some of them contradictory. So great was her joy and preoccupation that she had not even been aware of the steps Mr. Bennet had taken for the supervision of their youngest two daughters. Neither Kitty nor Lydia could take two steps without a maid appearing at their elbows, helping with packing and finding trinkets and bringing tea and suggesting bonnets to take and gently discouraging foolishness. The footmen, too, seemed unusually prone to be present wherever the Bennet daughters were, especially when the ladies were out of doors.

Mrs. Bennet did not notice, but Jane and Elizabeth both had, and they had shared surprised, relieved looks more than once. Elizabeth wished that it had not come at the cost of a scandal, but she was grateful that their father was finally putting measures in place to rein in her ill-behaved youngest sisters.

Elizabeth had no doubt that it was due in large part to the vigilance of their faithful servants that no further mishap had befallen the Bennet ladies. And finally, the time had come to depart Meryton, with the carriages all packed and all goodbyes said. Mr. Bennet had expressly forbidden the entry of any officers to Longbourn, with Hill standing as a resolute guard at the door, but Mrs. Bennet and even the girls had many friends to wish them well before they left. Of course, it had not only been well wishes from their visitors. Mrs. Bennet, in her delirium of delight, had accepted the most snide compliments with an equanimity that quite belied the spirit in which they were intended. Elizabeth, without a haze of happiness to cloud her wits, was acutely aware of every supercilious comment and disdainful look, and it had taken all of her willpower to remain serene and smile in the face of their neighbors’ suspicion.

That was all behind them now. She sat on the plush squabs of the second Darcy carriage, considerately sent from London with accompanying horses a few days ago, as the entire party headed for the house on Curzon Street. Their mother sat beside her, sniffing at hartshorn and dabbing herself with a linen handkerchief, still all aflutter at the excitement of going to stay in London. Mary, across from Elizabeth, held her well-worn copy of Fordyce's Sermons clutched in her hands, while the maid next to her worked on a bit of mending. Trailing them came the Bennet carriage, bearing an excitable Lydia and Kitty, with Jane and another maid who had proven skilled at handling the youngest two Bennets. Bringing up the rear behind the two carriages, several of the strongest and most imposing of the Darcy footmen rode, looking both dangerous and capable.

The carriage was very comfortable, and the relief of getting away from Longbourn was like having a hundred pounds lifted from her shoulders, but still unease sat sour in Elizabeth's stomach. Her pride rebelled at depending on Mr. Darcy as the Bennets were not, in fact, his responsibility. They were her father's. At least Mr. Bennet was stirring himself rather than leaving all duties on the shoulders of Mr. Darcy, Mr. Bingley, and her uncle Gardiner, which assuaged her nettled pride somewhat.

Her mind turned to the hours ahead. Once the ladies arrived in London, all would be a-bustle once more, unpacking and settling into their new, temporary home. Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy would doubtless be frequent callers, and Elizabeth would necessarily see more of her fiancé. How strange that still sounded! She had not given him much thought over the last few days, busy as she was, but she was aware of a definite change in her view of the master of Pemberley.

Somewhere along the way, her earlier anger at the gentleman had dissipated entirely to permit her to forgive his foolish remarks, which had initially upset her so much. Now, relaxing into the cushions of quite the most comfortable carriage she had ever sat in, Elizabeth found herself grateful and rather admiring. Ever since that fateful night trapped behind a locked door in the Netherfield library, Mr. Darcy had comported himself with honor and kindness and generosity. His assistance to Elizabeth – to her entire family – far outstripped any obligation he might conceivably have had toward her.

Elizabeth would be the first to admit that he was still stiff in company and unconciliating with his words much of the time. But did not his actions speak more to his character than ill-chosen words? And had not his manner towards her become entirely gallant? Could they not, perhaps, be happy together? He was one of the most intelligent men she had ever met, and that was a trait she deeply appreciated.

Elizabeth took a breath and let it out in a long sigh, and much of her stress and tension went with it. There was no need for her to make a decision now, or even soon. For now, she would enjoy the time away from Longbourn and Meryton and the gossip of her malicious neighbors.