Page 81

30 th March, 1818

“Mr. Darcy and Miss de Bourgh are in the east sitting room, my lord,” the butler declared loftily.

The Earl of Matlock nodded and marched gloomily down the hall to the sitting room. His sister, Catherine de Bourgh, had been a difficult person since infancy, but she was only growing more fractious and irritating with age. He had hoped that when his niece, Anne, took control of Rosings, Lady Catherine would retire to the Dower House in good form and stop causing trouble. Alas, that was but a forlorn dream. She was addicted to causing difficulties for her relations.

He stalked into the sitting room and relaxed; it was delightfully warm and his niece, who was sitting on a nearby couch, looked better than he had seen her in many years.

“My dear Anne,” he exclaimed, stepping forward and kissing her on the hand, “it is so good to see you looking so well!”

Anne looked startled, though she responded with a smile. She had looked in the mirror only minutes ago and been horrified by the dark shadows under her eyes; nonetheless, she still looked far healthier than she had the last time she had seen Lord Matlock over two years previously; ever since she had become mistress of Rosings, she had eaten better, slept better and been more active.

“Darcy,” the Earl declared warmly, reaching out to shake his nephew’s hand. “Thank you for rushing here to help with this difficult situation, and I regret that it took me so long to arrive. There were issues at the estate which required my personal attention.”

“That is quite all right, sir,” Darcy returned courteously, before turning to the other occupant of the room, “Lord Matlock, may I please introduce you to Mr. Collins, the rector of the parish of Bastow near Pemberley. Mr. Collins has agreed to oversee the Hunsford church and district until a suitable replacement can be found. Mr. Collins, my uncle, Lord Matlock.”

The two men exchanged appropriate bows and Darcy gestured, indicating that all those present should sit in one of the comfortable chairs arranged in the office.

“May I pour you some tea?” Anne asked.

All three men nodded, and for a few minutes, the mistress of Rosings was kept busy pouring tea and adding sugar lumps. Mr. Collins, with a soft sigh, accepted his cup of tea and stirred the lumps morosely; he missed his sugar spheres quite dreadfully but had forgotten to pack any in his mad dash to Hunsford a few days previously.

Darcy gulped down a large mouthful of tea and almost choked as the hot liquid stung his throat. He was, he admitted to himself, nervous about the ensuing conversation, which would probably prove a challenging one.

“I believe Lady Catherine should be confined to the Dower House for the foreseeable future,” Mr. Collins commented abruptly.

Lord Matlock, who had just taken a sip of his tea, coughed in astonishment at these words.

“What?” he sputtered.

Mr. Collins continued implacably, “Lady Catherine has shown her willingness to use any means necessary to force Miss de Bourgh into marriage with one of her toadies. She deliberately deceived the local magistrates concerning Mr. Gabriel Ware with the intention of having Mr. Alexander Martyn jailed, which, given his knife wound, could have killed him. She is a danger to Miss de Bourgh and all those who depend on the estate of Rosings for their well-being. Lady Catherine should be, effectively, locked up.”

Lord Matlock stared at the clergyman incredulously before turning to his niece and nephew, “Darcy, Anne, who is this man?”

“Come, sir,” Darcy chided, “you know who he is because I have mentioned him before in more than one letter. Mr. Collins is a certifiable genius, a brilliant scholar, philosopher, scientist and medical professional. It was his incredible skills that led to the safe birth of our son William. And he is entirely right about Lady Catherine. She is a menace. You have not yet seen her, but I have engaged in several wearying conversations. I assure you that if she is not insane, she is at least not entirely well mentally. She has fixated on the loss of Rosings and is willing to do anything possible to regain her power here, even to the point of persecuting Anne. Well, I should say, persecuting her even more than she always has. Anne was attacked, Uncle! Mr. Martyn saved her virtue and perhaps her life, and my aunt is spreading false gossip to defame Anne, hoping to force her into an unwanted marriage with a local magistrate. I will not have it!”

Lord Matlock turned his attention on his niece, whose face was now flushed and her eyes filled with tears.

“It is true, Lord Matlock,” she said quietly. “Before Darcy came, my mother was pressuring me to marry Mr. Ashbrook, a local gentleman who is one of her most devoted lackeys. He is one of the two local magistrates and made it clear that if I did not accept his offer of marriage, he would do everything in his power to have Mr. Martyn tried for murder.”

Lord Matlock groaned aloud, “We can hardly lock up my sister. It would cause a terrible scandal.”

“That should not matter,” Collins said sternly, glaring at the Earl. “You have a responsibility as head of the family to watch over your younger relations and to protect the interests of those who depend on Rosings for their well-being. Do not be a coward, Lord Matlock, and hide behind cultural shibboleths.”

The Earl turned toward his nephew again, his eyebrows hiked alarmingly high, and Darcy smiled deprecatingly, “Mr. Collins is a genius, but he is not a tactful man, sir.”

“Indeed, I am not,” the rector responded swiftly and apologetically. “My dear wife is still journeying here from Derbyshire, and I benefit from her help mitigating the bluntness of my tongue. I do apologize, Lord Matlock. Indeed, it is not accurate to say that Lady Catherine must be locked up; an alternative would be for her to depart from Kent and stay either with you, my lord, or with Mr. Darcy at Pemberley, where her relations can look after her.”

Uncle and nephew exchanged horrified glances at this pronouncement, causing Anne to chuckle in a slightly hysterical manner.

“I think, Mr. Collins, that both my cousin and uncle would far prefer to have my mother locked up than to invite her into their households.”

Darcy shook himself, “It is true that Lady Catherine would be a disturbing element, but Mr. Collins is right; she either must be confined to the Dower House or taken away. I wonder, too, if she might be more easily managed elsewhere, sir. Here, she is constantly aware of what she has lost; perhaps if she were removed from Kent, she would find it possible to set aside her disappointment and anger.”

The Earl of Matlock groaned again and looked around rather piteously, “Is there anything stronger to drink? I feel in need of brandy if we are to continue this conversation.”

Anne nodded and rang for a servant, “Of course, Lord Matlock.”

***

4th April, 1818

“Charlotte! Welcome to Hunsford parsonage, my dear!”

“William!” Charlotte Collins responded, her face alight with pleasure. She had quite missed him these last days, ever since he had boarded a carriage and raced to Hunsford more than a week previously. She had followed two days later after appropriate arrangements could be made, and had broken her journey in Meryton so she could visit her family at Lucas Lodge.

“I hope your parents and siblings are well?” Mr. Collins inquired, picking up both Tobias and Phoebe, who were squealing with delight at being reunited with their beloved father.

“Yes, they are very well indeed,” Charlotte assured him. “William, the children are hungry and tired and David needs to be fed, so perhaps you and the nursemaid can provide Tobias and Phoebe with their dinners and settle them in bed?”

“Of course, my dear, of course! You can take the baby into the parlor, which is through the first door to the right. The parlor maid will get you some tea and toast. I will return as soon as possible.”

“Do not hurry, William,” his wife assured him. “The children have missed you.”

“Mist you, Papa,” Phoebe lisped, planting a kiss on her father’s cheek.

“Yes, and I want to tell you about Sir William’s dog, Papa!” Tobias exclaimed. “He is white with black spots and very big!!”

“Sir William has obtained a Dalmatian,” Charlotte explained cheerfully. “He is a gentle giant, fortunately, and even permitted the children to ride him like a horse.”

“You must tell me about the enormous dog, children,” Mr. Collins agreed as he led them through the main hall into the dining room.

Charlotte Collins carried her baby son into the parlor and sank onto the nearest sofa with a sigh of relief. It had been a long trip from Bastow to Hunsford, and she had missed her husband’s help in dealing with their three small children, though Elizabeth Darcy insisted that the family ride in a very well sprung, large coach and even assigned outriders and servants to assist along the way. Charlotte enjoyed visiting her family home in Meryton and appreciated the opportunity to meet her new sister by marriage, Amelia, who had recently wed Charlotte’s younger brother Thomas.

But she had missed Mr. Collins quite dreadfully and was relieved to finally make it to Hunsford. The parlor was a pleasant room with windows facing a large garden, though the outside yard was rather unkempt. A moment later, a young maid entered the room with tea and toast, and Charlotte eagerly gulped down the tea before situating her baby for his feeding.

It was a full hour before her husband joined her, and she heard the murmur of youthful voices which showed her older children were not yet asleep.

“I suppose the childrenare rather excited,” she commented, tilting her head up so that he could kiss her properly.

He responded appropriately and reached down to gather his baby into his arms before settling down next to his wife.

“They are indeed. Marion is getting them settled upstairs in their beds, and I think they will drop off to sleep soon.”

“How are you, William? How are Anne and Mr. Alexander Martyn?”

“I am well enough, though I missed you all greatly. Miss de Bourgh is far better now that Mr. Darcy is here along with the Earl of Matlock; they are dealing with Lady Catherine. Mr. Martyn will also be well, though no thanks to the local physician who was treating him before I arrived. The man is an imbecile.”

Charlotte eyed her beloved husband warily, “I hope you did not say that to his face?”

Mr. Collins had the grace to look ashamed, “I fear I did, Charlotte; you were not here to keep a rein on my tongue, and Mr. Darcy and Miss de Bourgh were busy with other business when I discovered Mr. Slade bleeding the poor man. I fear I was quite rude, to the point that Mr. Slade packed up his medical bag and left in a huff.”

“Oh William …”

“I am sorry, I truly am, though in all honesty it is best that he is gone. Mr. Martyn was ill enough without being bled thanks to a poor stitching job and no attempt at cleaning his knife wound. He was also thoroughly chilled, as Slade apparently believed that the best way to bring down a fever was to open the windows to let in the cold. He was in a bad way when I arrived five days ago.”

“But he will live?” Charlotte asked anxiously.

“Oh yes, he is much better now. I washed his wound carefully and made up a poultice of honey and garlic, both of which have proven useful in combating infection.He was initially too ill to eat and drink much, but we recently prevailed upon him to drink copious quantities of tea and eat toast. He is doing far better now.”

“I am so glad. Miss de Bourgh and Mr. Martyn have been through so much.”

“They have. Mr. Ware was a blight on Rosings and the entire region, I fear.”

There was an odd tone in her husband’s voice and Charlotte reached out a hand to stroke her baby’s bald head before speaking, “What is it?”

Mr. Collins lowered his voice to a near whisper, “It seems clear that Mr. Ware seduced a number of women in the region, all of them servants or the daughters of tradesmen or farmers.”

“No!”

“Yes. Charlotte, Mr. Darcy has asked me if I would be willing to serve hereas parson for a few months. I know the occupants of the area from my time working for Lady Catherine. He believes I am better suited to provide spiritual guidance than someone without an understanding of the people and of what has occurred.”

“Do you wish to stay here, William?”

“Do you?”

Charlotte frowned up at her husband in confusion before nodding, “I wish to be with you, and the children, too. We will be happy here but are you at peace about being away from Pemberley? What of your experiments?”

Mr. Collins waved a casual hand, “That is of no concern. Mr. and Mrs. Stanton are well equipped to continue both the steam and ballooning experiments; indeed, they might welcome some time away from me so that they can strike out on their own, so to speak.”

“I hope they do not blow anything up,” Charlotte mused uneasily.

“We only blew up something once,” her husband responded optimistically. “I am quite sure all will be well. I would like to stay here, yes. I believe it to be my duty as the situation is volatile. I fear at least one of the young women seduced by Ware is with child …”

“Oh no!”

“Yes. I have great compassion for all these women, who were preyed upon by a man who should have been their spiritual leader. I am certain you will have some valuable insight on how best to assist them, my dear. Miss de Bourgh has also asked me to perform the marriage ceremony when Mr. Martyn has recovered completely.”

“How delightful! Of course we must stay!”

“I am glad,” her husband responded simply, looking around the parlor with an odd glimmer in his eye.

“What is it, William?”

“I ... I find it odd to be here, Charlotte. When last I served here as rector, I was still a sycophantic fool who groveled at Lady Catherine’s feet, metaphorically speaking at any rate. It is strange to remember how I once was, strange and sad.”

Charlotte put a tender hand on her husband’s arm, “Your father is responsible for your former self, my dear husband. He was a horrible man who treated you terribly.”

“Yes. It is hard to understand when I love my own children so much. How could he be so cruel? How could Mr. Collins hate my intelligence and gifts so much?”

“I think many people are envious of others for what they themselves do not have,” his wife returned simply. “They break the tenth commandment by coveting wealth, or status, or abilities. I never knew your father and I am glad of that; he died a lonely and bitter old man, whereas we …”

She trailed off and leaned closer to him, “We are very happy, are we not?”

Mr. Collins gazed down fondly at his little son before shifting his eyes to his wife’s beloved face. “Yes, dear Charlotte, we are both happy and blessed.”