23. Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Three

April 11, 1812 Hunsford, Kent Jane

J ane clenched her utensils tightly as she ate her breakfast. The tense atmosphere was almost palpable. Her husband sat across from her, eating his meal with his usual zeal. Did I really tell Elizabeth I had grown fond of the man? Yet, how can those sentiments, so new and untried, withstand what has occurred?

She knew a lecture was imminent, likely to come soon after he finished his bacon. Sure enough, when he had swallowed, Mr. Collins placed his utensils on his plate and removed the serviette from around his neck. Tossing the white linen onto the table, he pushed his chair back and stood. He clasped his hands behind his back and moved around the table to stand over her.

As he came toward her, Jane calmly put her utensils down, though she had not finished eating.

He laid a piece of paper before her, and Jane recognized it as the note she had sent to Mr. Darcy the night before.

“Why do you have this?” she asked incredulously.

“Your loyalty has been called into question. How can you betray our patroness in such a way?” He sniffed disdainfully. “We can only disapprove of your sister’s machinations. And so, I must remind you that you are not to write that scheming harlot any longer.” His imperious tone made her jump; he sounded very much like Lady Catherine.

“Lizzy is my sister, Mr. Collins,” she said smoothly. “As a member of my family, and by extension, yours, it would not do to act in such a manner. It will bring condemnation upon us.”

“In refusing to acknowledge Miss Elizabeth Bennet, I would be showing my flock the example of righteousness. Associating with a grasping, devious creature is most certainly a sin. Her influence will poison those around her, drawing them away from that which is right and good.”

Jane’s temper flared. How dare he! Elizabeth has done nothing wrong. “Elizabeth has not sinned in any manner. How is it a crime against God to accept a proposal of marriage?”

“Because! Lady Catherine, who is far wiser than those beneath her, has deemed the union to be the greatest of follies. Who are we to question her wisdom? We owe our comfortable situation to that great lady and so our loyalty must be to her.”

Jane stood, hands trembling with anger. “My loyalty is to my family, as it should be. I will not abandon my sister.”

Mr. Collins’s face turned red. Jane had never stood her ground before. She had not had any reason to. “Is not a woman to leave her family and cleave unto her husband? You will obey me, wife.”

“I believe the verse says a husband will leave his family and cleave unto his wife. You, sir, cleave only to Lady Catherine. Who, then, would God judge to be in the wrong?” Jane’s words were deadly calm, her face like stone as she stared at her husband. He was nearly a head taller than she, but she did not cringe away as an ugly scowl crossed his face.

“As your husband,” he said, “I command you. You will not write to Elizabeth Bennet, nor to her conspiring friend, Miss Lucas. Both are not fitting companions or correspondents for the wife of a clergyman.”

He turned and made to leave the room. He paused at the door and turned, regarding Jane steadily. “Neither will ever be welcome in my home again. Not now, not when I have my due and inherit my estate.”

With that, he turned and left the room. Jane did not move until she heard the front door open and close. Still shaking, she collapsed in her chair and picked up her utensils, determined to finish her meal. If she did not, she would suffer for it. The child growing within her did not like it when their mama did not eat enough.

He has likely gone to condole with Lady Catherine, she thought. Mr. Collins had not told his wife where he meant to go, but Rosings Park seemed a likely place. Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam would come to the parsonage eventually looking for Elizabeth and she would have to tell him of her husband’s uncharitable actions.

The thought of being unable to write to Elizabeth sent a pang through her. For the first time since marrying Mr. Collins, she felt regret for her decision. I will not let him keep me from writing. I shall enclose letters to Lizzy in missives to my aunt Gardiner. She will see them safely delivered.

After breakfast, she retreated to her parlor, taking up her workbasket and sewing a shirt for one of the young parishioners. When visiting hours arrived, the knock at the door came as no surprise to her.

She moved to the sitting room and waited for Martha to show her visitors in. Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam were there, along with Lady de Bourgh.

“Good day, Mrs. Collins.” Mr. Darcy said coolly. Jane wondered what she had done to offend him.

“Good morning, Mr. Darcy. And Colonel Fitzwilliam, Lady de Bourgh.” Jane greeted each of her guests civilly and bade them to sit. She would not let the behavior of one affect her treatment of the others.

“Where is Elizabeth this morning?" Mr. Darcy glanced at the door as if expecting her to enter at any moment.

“I am afraid my sister is not here, sir.”

“What?” He stood up. “Where has she gone?”

“She is likely almost to London now,” Jane replied. “Please, sit, and I shall explain all.”

Mr. Darcy lowered himself into the chair slowly, rubbing a hand over his face.

“I assume, given your surprise, that you did not encounter Mr. Collins before coming here.” When they shook their heads, she explained her husband’s actions from the night before to that morning, including his interception of her note. Her delicate condition rendered her emotions close to the surface and tears filled her eyes. She choked out a sob and reached for a handkerchief.

“I shall never see her again, Mr. Darcy.”

Lady de Bourgh stood and came to her side, sitting beside Jane on the settee. “There, now, child,” she said soothingly. “You will see your sister again. For now, do as you have decided and enclose missives for her within those for another.”

Overwrought, Jane leaned against Lady de Bourgh’s shoulder, grateful for a mother figure at that time. Or grandmother figure, she supposed. When she ceased weeping, she pulled away, feeling slightly embarrassed. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “I never imagined it would come to this. I did not think my husband would be so unmoving. I suppose it should not surprise me. After she refused his hand, he was most seriously displeased.”

“He proposed to Elizabeth?” Mr. Darcy said abruptly.

“Yes,” Jane confirmed.

The gentleman frowned, saying no more.

“Where can we find Miss Bennet in London?” Colonel Fitzwilliam asked. “We are off as soon as we take our leave of you.”

“She is with my aunt and uncle on Gracechurch Street.” Jane clenched the handkerchief tightly in her hand. “Charlotte is with her. They will likely continue to Longbourn within a few days. They intended to stay in London for a week after leaving Kent.”

“Then that is where we shall go,” Lady de Bourgh said. “I need to make arrangements to correspond with Miss Bennet. I will sponsor her, as I said yesterday. I did not offer merely to tweak Catherine’s nose, you know. Your sister has fire. She will do well as Mrs. Darcy; I have no doubt.” She tapped her walking stick against the floor to emphasize her point.

“Are you departing as well?” Jane asked.

“I am. Mr. Darcy and the colonel have graciously agreed to convey me to my house in town. Andrew is to stay until the official papers granting him oversight of Rosings Park are complete.

Jane turned to the lady in surprise. “What?”

“Oh, it was quite a marvelous to-do last night after you all departed,” Colonel Fitzwilliam chimed in. “It seems Anne has conspired to remove her mother from the management of her estate. As of yesterday, Rosings Park is completely hers, and she has decided to ask Sir Andrew to manage it. Anne told Lady Catherine that she had no desire to marry and would not be forced to do so. My aunt argued for hours but to no avail. The solicitor arrives today with the papers. They will be signed and filed immediately. It was only after Anne threatened to banish her mother to the dower house that she ceased her caterwauling.”

“Oh dear,” Jane murmured. “Mr. Collins will be very disappointed.”

“Fie on what that incompetent sycophant thinks or feels.” Lady de Bourgh said sharply. “Why ever did you marry him?”

Jane grimaced but did not reply.

“We must take our leave now if we wish to reach London before dark.” Mr. Darcy stood. “It was a pleasure seeing you again, Mrs. Collins. Please accept my wishes for your health and happiness.”

“Please!” she cried. “Take a note to Lizzy for me!” She hurried to her writing table and scribbled a quick note, sanding and sealing it as fast as she could. She handed it to Mr. Darcy and he took it, tucking it into his pocket.

Jane’s hand dropped to her waist as she said her farewells to her guests. In a few minutes, the parsonage fell silent again and she could hear the carriage leaving outside. Feeling suddenly very alone, Jane stood and retreated to her little parlor. She shut the door and locked it, praying her husband would leave her be.

Darcy

“What a shame to have such a fine lady wasted on Mr. Collins.” Lady de Bourgh said, tapping her cane against the floor of the carriage.

“Her family’s estate is entailed,” Darcy said shortly. “The Bennet ladies have little dowry; when she could not find a better prospect, she married her cousin.”

“And you know this for certain?” Lady de Bourgh challenged him.

“My friend Bingley courted her last autumn when he leased an estate near her home. When we departed, he was persuaded that Mrs. Collins—then Miss Bennet—did not feel the same for him as he did for her. My suppositions proved correct; she has been married since December. Mrs. Collins must have become engaged to that fool shortly after Bingley quit the estate.”

“It was Mrs. Collins?” Colonel Fitzwilliam sounded shocked. “Darcy, why did you not tell me?”

“It did not seem relevant. Regardless of details, Mrs. Bennet is the worst matchmaking mama I have ever encountered. She pushed her eldest at Bingley and I did not wish for my friend to be trapped in a loveless marriage.”

“And you know for certain that Mrs. Collins held no real affection for your friend?” Lady de Bourgh asked quietly.

Darcy nodded. “I watched her closely the last night we were in company. She smiled at Bingley, but she smiled at everyone. Had she any true regard, we would not have found her married and, as I suspect, already with child less than six months later.”

“I hope for your sake that you are correct, Mr. Darcy.” Lady de Bourgh shook her head. “A lady may find herself married for any number of reasons. In circumstances such as you describe, Mrs. Collins may have found herself forced into her present situation.”

Darcy scoffed. “She is of age. Even her father could not have forced her. I was right to warn Bingley away.”

“Sometimes force does not come from a person. You are about to marry Mrs. Collins’s sister. Can you live with yourself if you find out from your future wife that you were entirely mistaken?” Lady de Bourgh watched him cooly, and Darcy shifted nervously. Had he been wrong?

Stubbornly he shook his head. “I am not wrong. Mrs. Collins has proved herself to be a fortune hunter, just like her mother. I shall have to tell Bingley eventually, given my betrothal to Elizabeth.”

“Does your betrothed know that you convinced Mr. Bingley to abandon Mrs. Collins? What will she think of your interference?” Lady de Bourgh asked.

“She does not know, and I see no reason to tell her.” Darcy shrugged indifferently.

“Darcy…” Colonel Fitzwilliam said. “She does know. I told her. The day you proposed, we spoke as we strolled the lane. Though I did not name names, I am certain she deduced that I referred to Bingley and Mrs. Collins. She called your interference officious and then shortly thereafter claimed a headache. I thought she seemed discomposed when I delivered her to the parsonage. She must have been very upset.”

“If she was, she has since forgiven me. We are to be married. How could she do anything less?”

“You think that, Mr. Darcy. Pray, remember that hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. I believe you will feel Miss Bennet’s wrath eventually. But then, I do not know the particulars. Perhaps they are all fortune hunters and Miss Bennet marries you for your fortune.” The lady across from him smiled smugly before turning to look out the window.

Elizabeth would never. She is not a grasping, artful lady like Miss Bingley or those other harpies of the ton . She is marrying me for mutual love and affection.

Despite his private reassurance, Darcy spent the rest of the journey to London battling doubts. He wished to make for Gracechurch Street immediately upon their arrival but refrained. The hour was late. And tomorrow was the sabbath, which meant he would not see her until Monday. He groaned. At least he knew she would not be departing London before then. He would simply have to be patient.

Wishing to put Elizabeth’s mind at ease, he penned a quick note and saw it delivered to Gracechurch Street.

It is only two nights and one day, he thought.