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As Charlotte descended the stairs a few minutes later, she heard her husband’s voice raised in the hallway. “And why were you not in church?”

She hurried down and found him confronting the frightened maid.

“I kept her from church to assist me with the sick person. She has done her duty in that respect. Surely, we are not expected to abandon our fellowman just because it is Sunday. The surgeon has just left Miss de Bourgh. You should see what her dear mother did to her. Now, let us go to dinner.”

Charlotte had always found the dining room to be one of the best rooms in the house.

Beautifully proportioned, though small, it was graced with large windows looking out over the garden.

Today she found little cheer in it. The maids were setting out the dinner, and everything was ready.

After pausing for an interminable grace before the meal, she set about carving the cold ham, since Mr. Collins had never been taught the masculine skill of carving joints.

Then she seated herself—he never seated her when they were alone—and he picked up his knife and fork and fell to.

“And how was the attendance at church this morning?” she inquired. He had the habit of mumbling “mmm, mmm,” as he ate, which she did her best to forestall with conversation.

“Mmm, tolerable,” he replied. “Though Lady Catherine was also among the absent. I must call on her this afternoon to inquire after her health and to let her know that Miss de Bourgh is safe with us. Is, mmm, she resting comfortably?”

“Yes.” Charlotte set down her knife and fork. “She has been through a dreadful ordeal, Mr. Collins. Yesterday her mother threw a pot of boiling tea at her and scalded her arm. This morning she threw a carving knife at her and chased her out of the house. ”

“Parents have a duty to correct their children, Mrs. Collins. I am sure there was some reason.”

“To scald someone? Miss de Bourgh is not a child, and even if she were, parents should not physically harm their children. There have been many other incidents, and I would like to discuss them with you this afternoon. Something must be done to help her.”

Collins held up his hand. “Not another word, Charlotte. Not another word will you utter. I am warning you. Lady Catherine is our patroness, gracious, kind, and the exemplar of every Christian virtue. As your husband, I will not permit you to slander her in this fashion even in the privacy of our home.”

The meal continued in silence and was soon over.

Charlotte stood and, with the help of one of the maids, began preparing a plate for their guest. “Nor will you give any aid or comfort to a wayward daughter. I am going now to call on Lady Catherine. I will arrange for Miss de Bourgh’s escort home while I am there. ”

Mr. Collins stalked out of the room, and Charlotte calmly finished making up the plate. The fearful maid brought in a tray, cutlery, and linen, and they soon had a tray ready for their guest. “I will take it to her. Does Ned visit his grandmother on Sundays?”

“Yes, ma’am. It’s just across the lane in back. ”

“Please go there and ask him to come to the kitchen. I will not detain him more than a few minutes. I will take the tray up to our guest.” She turned and left the dining room.

Miss de Bourgh admitted her. The young woman still seemed pale, but she thanked Charlotte for the food and ate hungrily.

Charlotte seated herself on the edge of the bed and said, “You are not to worry, Miss de Bourgh. I have a plan that will get you to London tomorrow. Or perhaps I should say ‘will get us to London tomorrow,’ for I will serve as your escort and chaperone.”

“I beg you not to put yourself in harm’s way, Mrs. Collins. This journey seems perilous, and while I am willing to face any danger, I would not wish to involve you. You have been so kind to me.”

Charlotte gave her a smile that was slightly nervous. “I do not believe the danger will be great.” She turned and left the room.

The maid approached her as she came downstairs. “Ma’am, Ned is waiting for you in the kitchen.”

The young man stood as she entered. “Ned, thank you for interrupting your day of rest. I will need you to have the gig ready in the morning for myself and one other lady. Our destination is Bromley, where we will board the mail coach bound for London. What time will we need to depart? ”

“For safety’s sake, ma’am, I’d say we must leave at seven. You may need to wait for a time, but it is better to be early to purchase your tickets. There is a proper, decent inn there, and I will stay with you to see you safely on to the mail coach.”

The office of Daily Morning Prayer began at seven, and Charlotte was not required to attend.

It was the ideal time. “Thank you, Ned. One last thing. Bring the gig to the lane behind the house, the one that stands between this house and your grandmother’s.

Wait for us there. We will not be late, and we will have very little baggage—perhaps a bandbox or small carpet bag.

” The gig would be crowded with three, but they were all small.

Ned stood when she stood. “I will be waiting for you there at seven, ma’am.”

“Thank you. Please give my kind regards to your grandmother.”

Charlotte went upstairs to her small, comfortable parlor.

She unlocked the compartment in her desk where she kept her pin money and the household allowance, thanking God that she had just received the allowance for the autumn quarter.

There was more than enough money to get her and Anne de Bourgh to Mr. Darcy’s house in London.

She hid the purse in her bosom, re-locked the compartment, and settled in a comfortable chair with her embroidery.

She did not have long to wait. She heard the front door open, and Mr. Collins soon entered the parlor.

“How was your visit?” she asked more calmly than she felt.

Her husband’s normally vapid countenance looked troubled—deeply, genuinely troubled.

It was one of the few times she could remember reading true emotion in his countenance.

“The visit was most disquieting, Charlotte. I went to the front door as we usually do, the butler opened it, and I asked to see Lady Catherine. He asked me to wait while he saw if she was at home. Upon his return, he told me that she was not at home. From somewhere within I could hear her shouting ‘Send him away and never permit him to return,’ followed by the shattering of glass. I also heard a woman scream.” He folded his hands for a moment and looked down. “Something is gravely amiss.”

“William, this woman chased her daughter out of the house with a carving knife this morning, as I have said. I have no reason to disbelieve Miss de Bourgh. Her distress and terror were genuine, and the burn on her arm is certainly genuine. Mr. Church has seen and treated it. The list of her crimes and aberrations as related to me by her daughter is shocking.” Charlotte enumerated them on her fingers.

“She is become a drunkard, consuming more port at a sitting than several gentlemen consume after dinner at Rosings. She screams when no one is present. She sends housemaids off to London, where they disappear. More than one person asserts that she is sending the maids into a life of sin. She abuses her servants. She has defaced and destroyed her sitting room.”

“How can we be sure of all these things? These are serious accusations.”

“Well, I have not yet reached the most serious. How old is Miss de Bourgh?”

“Why, she has recently passed her twenty-third birthday, I believe.”

“And how do you know this?”

“From her mother.”

“She is not twenty-three, Mr. Collins. She is nearly twenty-seven. She was supposed to inherit her father’s property and the fortune that goes with it when she turned twenty-five.

Instead of being mistress of Rosings, she has been kept there as a prisoner by her mother.

You should be able to verify her age yourself. Look at the parish register.”

“I will, madam.”

Collins left, and his wife awaited his return with little patience.

It did not take long, and when he returned, Collins carried the large book under his arm.

“The relevant pages from twenty-six and twenty-three years ago have been crudely torn out. They are completely missing, and I am unable to account for it. There is supposed to be only one set of keys, and they are in a drawer in my desk. I will keep this under lock and key in my own study until I learn from the authorities what to do about it.”

“How much more proof do you need, William? This is a serious business. You must be very careful. It is unlawful to tamper with the church register and I would not have you accused of having destroyed those pages.”

“I cannot believe that a lady who has been so noted for her generosity, her condescension, her Christian virtue—that such a lady would stoop so low.”

“Well, then, I will finish the story for you, and you may decide for yourself. Why do you suppose she attacked her own daughter this morning? I will tell you. She learned from yesterday’s papers that two days ago Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy took a wife. He was married in London to Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”

“Impossible. Miss Bennet threw herself into the arms of a depraved man, Viscount __. Why…”

“That is why you went so hastily to Longbourn? To inform her father of that fact and to spread the news? It was not true, William. You were sent to Longbourn to publish an untruth. A lie. She caused you to bear false witness against a virtuous, decent young woman. You were her pawn. And what of poor Lydia Bennet? It was the same thing. She was cast adrift in London, trying desperately to free herself from a man who would dishonor her, and she was not yet sixteen. And there you were, posting off to Longbourn and from thence to Lucas Lodge to spread the news of her downfall, a downfall that never was. Who sent you? Who told you, or in that case, I will say who told us?”