Chapter 32

C ollins had been nervous as the date of the illegal court case had come and gone, but here he was, a sennight past the date and not a word. He had just begun to relax when his housekeeper informed him a messenger was asking to see the master of the house.

"Just take a message, why would I want to see one as low as a courier, or some such," Collins responded pompously.

"Master, the man said it is to do with the estate of Longbourn," the housekeeper elucidated. "He said that only you would do, Mr Collins, he could not trust his message to anyone less."

"Why are you wasting time?" Collins bellowed. "Show him into my study right now."

Although Collins was disappointed the man was not cowed being in the presence of not only an exulted vicar like himself, but also one who was connected to the great Lady Catherine de Bourgh, his eyes fixed on the thick packet of papers the underling was holding in his hands.

"You be Mr William Wilberforce Collins, son of Clem Collins of Bartonville in Wiltshire?" the man asked.

"I am," Collins returned as he puffed up with pride.

"Please sign this ‘ere paper attesting you received wat I am givin' ya." The courier proffered the clergyman a document which stated he had received the pouch of documents the man had placed before him on his desk. Thinking it was notice from the court affirming what his patroness demanded, Collins's signature was affixed above his printed name. The courier and his housekeeper signed as witnesses.

Collins waved them away with great expectation of reading about how his cousin had been humiliated. Now that was done, he would beg Lady Catherine to expel the Bennets from his land as soon as may be.

There was a flap to the pouch containing the documents which was held in place by a large seal. Collins took up his penknife and broke the seal. Once the flap was open, he was able to extract a sheath of documents. On the top was a letter in a hand he did not recognise. Collins began to read.

19 January 1811

Mr Collins,

My name is Frank Phillips, and I am Mr Bennet's local solicitor. It is my duty to inform you that due to your not being present in the Court of Chancery, the land matters division, on the 14th day of January 1811, at the prescribed time of 10 o'clock in the morning, the Lord Judges ruled against you in absentia.

Rather than defend your claim, you had one Lady Catherine de Bourgh, a lady both unknown to any of their Lordships and without standing in this matter, write a laughable letter berating the authority of the court and the Lord Judges.

Per the Rules of Procedure, not appearing on your own behalf indicated your agreement with Mr Bennet's suit. As such you have been irrevocably removed from the line of succession. Enclosed with the documents are copies of the Order of the Court and the new deed naming Thomas Henry Bennet as the owner. Due to the irrevocable ruling against you in this case, he may leave the estate to whomever he chooses.

At this point I must inform you that my client has instituted a new entail. Only a direct descendant of his, male or female, can ever own Longbourn after him. Therefore, Mr Collins, if you try to unlawfully remove Mr Bennet, under the new entail neither you nor anyone in your line will ever be the heir to the Bennets' estate .

If you or your patroness take it in your heads to attempt to impose yourselves on Longbourn's land, you will be arrested and prosecuted for trespassing.

F Phillips

In a stupor, trying to convince himself that the letter was not factual, Collins looked through the rest of the documents. From the judgment of the court to the new entail document, everything this Mr Phillips had written to him was listed in black ink on the white paper before him.

This could not be! His patroness had assured him none of this would occur. He was about to leave his house to go throw himself on his patroness's mercy, so she would make everything right, when the doorbell was rung. Being in such a state, Collins did not wait for his housekeeper, but rather wrenched the door open himself. Before him stood a man dressed in the garb of a clergyman like he himself was.

"I do not have time to confer with a fellow man of the cloth, it is imperative that I go see my patroness," Collins blustered as he practically pushed the other man out of his way.

"I assume you refer to Lady Catherine de Bourgh?" the unknown member of the clergy verified.

Given how great she was, Collins would not have been surprised if every member of the clergy, from the Archbishop of Canterbury on down knew who his patroness was. Collins puffed his chest up with pride at being able to confirm the other man's speculation. "That is correct."

"In that case, allow me to offer you a ride in my carriage. I need to speak to both of you as I have a message from the bishop of Kent. I am Reverend Jacob Whitlow, the Right Reverend Grace, the Bishop of Kent's assistant," Whitlow stated.

Collins accepted with alacrity, feeling the compliment of receiving such notice keenly.

~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~

"Mr Jacob Whitlow, emissary of the Right Reverend Grace, the bishop of Kent, and Mr Collins," Rosings Park's butler intoned.

Whitlow raised his eyebrows as he watched the way Mr Collins bowed repeatedly to the lady sitting on her version of a throne, and then her parson remained in his bow waiting for her to acknowledge him. Whitlow gave a normal bow and waited.

Out of the corner of his eye, Collins could see the way his fellow clergyman was disrespecting his patroness. Just before he was about to say something, Lady Catherine greeted him, and quite deservedly, sniffed towards Mr Whitlow. As he stood up, Collins could tell how annoyed his patroness was at the rudeness of the other clergyman. To make up for it he bowed a few more times.

"I see that the letter which caused the Bishop to send me hither understated rather than overstated the problem we have in the parish of Hunsford," Whitlow announced. "Mr Collins, do you report what your parishioners tell you to Lady Catherine?"

"And why should he not? I am a peer of the realm and entitled to know all about those I rule over," Lady Catherine insisted imperiously.

"I have heard that your sermons emphasise the deference to be paid to your patroness, and why it is the parishioners' duties to tell you all your patroness desires to know, is that true?" Whitlow addressed Collins, ignoring the lady's nonsense for the nonce.

"Why yes, it is ordained that I must do my duty to Lady Catherine," Collins stated proudly. He had almost forgotten why he had come to see the great lady. "My cousin and the courts ignored you, Lady Catherine. Against your commands, they have stolen my estate from me."

"This is not to be borne!" Lady Catherine screeched. "Have the curate I approved of summoned, and then you will join me when we go put these nobodies in their places…"

"Lady Catherine," Whitlow interjected. "As of this day, you are barred from appointing anyone to a position in the church. You and this poor excuse for a clergyman have broken church law with regards to confidences between a parishioner and a clergyman. In addition an uneducated woman like yourself is not qualified to write a receipt, never mind a sermon to enrich the spiritual wellbeing of a flock." Both Lady Catherine and Collins had similar looks of shock on their countenances while their mouths hung open. Whitlow continued on while he had silence. "You madam are the wife of a knight so you are a commoner, not a peer. The title you retained from being born the daughter of an earl is nothing but an honorific."

He turned to Collins. "You have broken more canon law than I care to enumerate. Once I make my report to the Right Reverend Grace, the bishop of Kent, losing your parish will be the least of your worries. You worship a mortal above our Lord God, and that, sir, is heresy. If you are not defrocked, I will be surprised, further to that, I cannot rule out excommunication!"

"B-but s-she t-told m-m-me s-s-s-she w-would s-s-sack m-me," Collins stammered out.

"If you knew anything about church law you would know a living is for life and only your Bishop may remove you, as I am sure he will. You two have made a mockery of the institution of the church and all for which it stands! It gives me no pleasure to speak to a lady in this manner, but in using that appellation for you, I am applying it liberally. In all my years of serving in the Church of England, never have I been so disgusted by a so-called member of the clergy! I take no leave of either of you! I send no compliments to you from my bishop. Neither of you deserve such attention. The bishop, nay the whole church is most seriously displeased!" With that the clergyman spun on his heel and marched out of the drawing room leaving two stunned people behind him.

"How dare you allow that man to speak to me in that fashion," Lady Catherine screeched as soon as she found her voice.

All Collins could do was allow his mouth to flap open and closed as he attempted to replay the events from the time he received the letter stealing his birthright from him until this very moment. Lost in his own world, Collins slowly turned and exited the drawing room.

"Where do you think you are going? I am not finished with you yet! Did I give you leave to go, and how dare you show your back to me?" Lady Catherine ranted.

Anne de Bourgh was pleased no one had noticed her sitting quietly with Mrs Jenkinson while her mother and Mr Collins performed. This had been most amusing, and with the way the two behaved, that was really saying something. She had much about which to write to Uncle Reggie. It was time to put her plans into motion before her mother made the whole of the family look ridiculous, or even more so.

She had a feeling her mother had finally slipped the final bonds which tethered her to the rational world.

~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~

It had begun to snow, mixed in with sleet before Collins was halfway back to the parsonage. Earlier when he stumbled out of the manor house, he had not bothered to take his hat, gloves, or coat. As he walked aimlessly towards the groves rather than the parsonage, he tried to understand how things had gone so very bad for him.

Had he not listened to his late father and revered those who were ranked higher than himself in society? Even though he had barely passed his classes at school, and then the seminary he had attended, he had done so. It was not his fault he had not been offered a curacy like those who had been in his class. This fact left him with only one option, to take one at the school where he had studied. He had eventually taken his orders, on his third and final attempt. The Bishop had told him if he could not pass the examination, he would need to find a different profession. He had known just enough to be admitted into the holy orders. Then, he had been sent along with others to meet the mistress of Rosings Park who was seeking someone to prefer to the living in her gift.

He had been the one to be singled out by Lady Catherine! Since being in her employ, he had done everything she asked so that Lady Catherine would not remove him…he remembered what Whitlow had said. She could not sack him! Had he put his faith in one who was not worthy of it? Surely not, but then again, everything bad which was occurring was tied to his listening to Lady Catherine.

It was then he noticed how cold he felt. Collins found himself wandering along the path to the glade. Other than the noise the snow and sleet made as it fell against the stark leafless trees and the ground, there was no noise of insects or amphibians to be heard. Suddenly he felt very tired, so he sat on one of the benches around the frozen pond. All he needed was to rest for a little while…

~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~

Lord Matlock, his two sons, and his nephew sat in a coach which turned into Rosings Park on the final Friday of January. They had wanted to arrive two days earlier, but thanks to the snow and sleet storm, the journey had been delayed.

As much as Darcy had been loath to leave Hertfordshire just when Miss Bennet was changing from full to half mourning, the duty to his family trumped his personal desires. Giana had remained behind, where she was being hosted at Longbourn until Darcy returned to the area .

On arriving under the large portico at the mansion, the four men were surprised to see what looked like a search party forming. "What is this about?" Lord Matlock demanded.

Recognising the Earl, the butler bowed before him. "We are trying to locate the parson, Mr Collins. The last time he was at the manor house was the afternoon the snow and sleet began. He left without his outerwear and never returned to the parsonage. He has not been seen since," the butler reported.

Lord Hilldale, the Colonel, and Darcy decided to join the search while Lord Matlock followed the butler into the house as footmen removed the trunks from the coach and brought them inside.

When the three cousins enquired, they were informed the search had begun about a day after the vicar left the great house. His housekeeper had assumed he had remained at the mansion due to the weather. Mr Whitlow, a representative of the bishop of Kent arrived to demand Mr Collins accompany him to the manor house. Mr Whitlow departed and Mr Collins followed soon thereafter. A day later, when the housekeeper had sent the parsonage's manservant to the great house to seek Mr Collins, it had been determined that the rector was missing.

A search had been conducted for two days with no results so far. Due to the nature of the precipitation, there were no foot prints to follow. The cousins split up to ride in the groves. Each one had a pistol which he would shoot into the air if he discovered something.

As he was passing the path leading to the glade, on a whim, Darcy stopped his horse, dismounted and loosely tied the mount to a low hanging branch. He walked to the glade, and was about to return to his horse when he noticed the strange shape on one of the benches covered with the snow and crusted in sleet. What he discovered caused him to fire his shot into the air. It was not many minutes before his cousins found him .

"How do you think the poor wretch ended up here?" the Colonel whistled when he saw the frozen body.

"There is no way of knowing," Lord Hilldale mused. "At least, he will not have the ignominy of being defrocked and excommunicated. Due to his end, the case will be quietly closed."

Not too long after, some of the other men who had been searching reached them, and after issuing instructions to move the frozen corpse to the undertaker in Hunsford, the cousins mounted their horses and made for the stables.

~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~

It was obvious to Lord Matlock what was left of the person his sister used to be was gone. By the time he had made his way up to see her, after talking to Anne, he had found her almost catatonic. Once his sons and nephew reported that which the earl had suspected, he told them of the state in which he had discovered their aunt. "The woman who refused to be gainsaid is no more. I think that she had so convinced herself of all of the nonsense she told herself, that as soon as she realised it was not so, she was unable to reconcile herself to reality."

"What will you do with her, father? Surely not an asylum?" Lord Hilldale asked.

"No, Andrew, you know me better than that. As much as Cathy made it hard to like her, through her invention of the phantom engagement, her interfering ways, all of it, I never stopped loving my older sister," Lord Matlock explained. "As such, I will have her moved to the dower house at Snowhaven, where she will be looked after at all times. Regardless of how annoyed your mother and aunt became thanks to Cathy's interference; she would agree with me without hesitation."

"At least, that way our aunt will end her days being well cared for in a place where she grew up," Darcy remarked.

"What of Anne and Rosings Park?" the Colonel enquired. " Did she not allow Aunt Cat to have the illusion of being in charge to relieve the burden from herself? How will she manage it all now?"

"Is that not a question you should ask me, Cousin?" Anne asked. She had seeming to be invisible down to a science. "I have a plan, and it involves you resigning from the army."

"What have I to do with this?" the Colonel questioned.

"Everything. Both Andrew and William have estates so that only leaves you without one. Before you ask, I am the last one in the de Bourgh line, so, no, there is no other," Anne related. "Under the terms of Father's will, while I live, I am not allowed to transfer the estate to another, but I am allowed to bequeath it to whomever I choose."

"I still do not understand," the Colonel puzzled.

"It is simple. As you correctly asserted, this is far too much for me to run, even had I the desire to do so, which I do not. You are the heir presumptive of this estate, and when in a few short years," Anne raised her head seeing the protest forming on her three cousins' lips. "Regardless of how my mother attempted to keep the truth from me, I am fully aware I have a weak heart. As I was saying, Richard, you will be the master here. De Bourgh house is in your name already as there was no restriction on it. As long as I have the funds I need when and if I need them, the de Bourgh fortune is yours as well. If—when—you marry, your wife will be the mistress even if I am still living."

"But Anne…" the Colonel began to object.

"No, Richard. You will not allow your foolish pride stop you from doing your duty to me," Anne insisted.

"My duty? My duty is to King and country," the Colonel asserted.

"Need I remind you of the vow you made when you were thirteen and I was nine? The one when you swore to do whatever you needed to do to help me when I asked?" Anne played her trump card.

"I do. My word is my word," the soon-to-be former Colonel capitulated. "I will resign and sell my commission."

"Good, now go find yourself a wife," Anne commanded.

"He is working on that already," Lord Hilldale ribbed.

"You know how much this will please your mother, do you not?" Lord Matlock pointed out to his younger son. The Earl turned to his niece. "Anne, will you travel with us to London and remain with your Aunt while I take your mother to Snowhaven?" Lord Matlock invited.

Anne agreed and plans were made to depart Rosings Park in two days.