Darcy in Want of a Wife

Chapter 30

Kitchen

Hunsford

Kent

Two Days Later

“Hurry up, my dear! Hurry up!” Mr. Collins called from the dining room. “We cannot keep Lady Catherine waiting!”

“I will be ready in just a moment,” Mrs. Charlotte Collins replied. “Eunice, we will need two extra loaves of bread this morning. Thank you.”

Eunice, who served as both kitchen and parlor maid, bobbed a curtsey, and Charlotte removed her own apron and donned her outdoor hat. She had intended to spend the morning in the kitchen, but the summons to Rosings meant that she would need to set her work aside for another day.

The door to the kitchen opened, and Mr. Collins stepped in, his eyes bugging out with distress.

“I am ready, Husband,” Charlotte said, tying the strings of her hat.

“At last!” Mr. Collins exclaimed, holding out his hand and grasping her arm, though gently. “Come along, my dear!”

Charlotte had no trouble matching Mr. Collins’ pace as the two of them made their way out the side door and down the lane. Her husband was a tall man but rather portly as well, and Charlotte had always been a fast walker. As they continued towards Rosings, Charlotte took a moment to admire the fair weather. It was a pleasant day, with azure blue skies streaked with wispy clouds. It was warm, but not too warm, a fine day to be out of doors.

Charlotte cast a glance over her shoulder at the parsonage, which she had overseen since her marriage to Mr. Collins in January. The gardens were green with young vegetable plants, tended faithfully by Mr. Collins, and the path and bushes were well kept. The parsonage itself was well-maintained and tidy, and Charlotte was proud to call herself its mistress.

Charlotte’s marriage was truly all that she had hoped for when she accepted William Collins’s offer the previous autumn. While she was not overly fond of her husband, Mr. Collins was the heir to Longbourn in Hertfordshire, and was the recipient of a valuable church living here in Kent. Yes, he was a foolish man and often tiresome, and spent altogether too much of his time and energy waxing poetic about Lady Catherine de Bourgh, but he was kind to her. Unlike her dear friend, Elizabeth, Charlotte was not a romantic, and thus she was pleased with such a marriage.

In any case, Charlotte did not spend all that much time in her husband’s company. Mr. Collins was frequently engaged either with his garden, or with visiting his patroness, or calling on the parishioners in Kent, or preparing sermons in his book room. Charlotte was free to run the parsonage as she wished, and she greatly enjoyed the freedom that came with being the mistress of her own home.

Today, however, her plans had been interrupted by an abrupt summons from Rosings, which made her uneasy. She and her husband made the short trip to Rosings several times a week already, to dine with Lady Catherine and keep her company while Anne de Bourgh was away in Town. As Lady Catherine had given Mr. Collins the Hunsford living, it befitted them to respond promptly in the event of an invitation, but Charlotte could not help but wonder what could have been the cause for the Lady’s current summons. Charlotte had intended to spend the day preparing a basket of food for the Heathrows, one of the tenant families who had recently welcomed a new baby girl, but it seemed those duties would fall upon Eunice if Charlotte became otherwise engaged.

They had by this time reached the front steps of Rosings, and Charlotte climbed the grand stone stairs on her husband’s arm. They were greeted at the door by Lady Catherine’s butler, Mr. Byrd, who ushered them in the direction of their patroness’s favorite parlor, which faced out into Rosings’ most beautiful gardens, with the paned windows offering an excellent view of the vibrant blooms.

Charlotte could not help but notice the air of agitation as the butler led them to the parlor. Servants rushed to and fro in a frantic manner, and even Mr. Byrd seemed ill at ease.

“Lady Catherine,” Mr. Collins cried out as they were led into Catherine de Bourgh’s august presence. “How might we have the honor of serving you?”

Lady Catherine, to Charlotte’s alarm, was red with anger, and her jaw was set.

“Read this, Mr. Collins!” the lady ordered, thrusting a paper in his direction. The parson obediently took the paper and read it with growing dismay. Charlotte, while consumed with curiosity, could not read the spidery writing on the page, and had to wait until Mr. Collins, his eyes wide with horror, his cheeks jiggling slightly, allowed his hand to fall, and the paper with it.

“My dear Lady Catherine, I assure you I have no knowledge of this at all!” he cried out, just as Charlotte bent and managed to remove the letter from his loosened grip. She glanced at husband and patroness and decided they were engrossed sufficiently that she could risk reading the paper in question.

Dear Lady Catherine,

I apologize for disturbing you in such a fashion, especially since I have not had the honor of being introduced to you.

However, I know of you and of your greatness and intelligence and wisdom. Given your many gifts and attributes, perhaps you are already aware of the situation at hand, but I think too much of the Darcy and de Bourgh families to set aside the need for a gentle warning.

Mr. Darcy has, most regrettably, fallen prey to the upstart pretensions of a young woman named Miss Elizabeth Bennet, who has no particular intelligence or beauty, without family, connections, or fortune! Your nephew met her in Hertfordshire last autumn, and regrettably she has followed him to Town in the hopes of kindling his admiration. It is extremely unfortunate that she seems to have succeeded, at least to some degree, as his interest in her is now well known among the ton.

Again, I do apologize for disturbing you, but I could not allow such a travesty to occur to your extended family without mentioning this information.

Miss Elizabeth Bennet is currently residing with Mr. and Mrs. Charles Bingley at 18th Half Moon Street in London.

Sincerely,

A Humble Admirer

Charlotte Collins smiled, and then, aware of her surroundings, hastily turned her lips down in a deep frown. She was delighted to think that Mr. Darcy might marry her friend Elizabeth, but her two companions could hardly be expected to concur with her thinking.

“Indeed, I am quite certain it cannot be true,” Mr. Collins cried out. “My cousin Elizabeth is, perhaps, inclined to look higher than she ought, but…”

“What do you mean, higher than she ought?” Lady Catherine thundered.

“She refused my offer of marriage!” her parson squeaked, his skin now as flushed as that of his patroness. “She said we would not suit! It was quite absurd, given that I am the heir to her father’s estate, and she has no dowry to speak of! Of course, it was a blessing in its own way, for my dear Charlotte and I have but one mind and one way of thinking. There is in everything a most remarkable resemblance of character and ideas between us. We seem to have been designed for each other.”

Lady Catherine turned her glower on Charlotte, who kept her face calm and friendly.

“Mrs. Collins,” she grated. “Is Miss Bennet a friend?”

“She is,” Charlotte concurred.

“And is she, in fact, pursuing my nephew, Mr. Darcy?”

“I think that most unlikely,” Charlotte replied. “Indeed, while I do not wish to speak out of turn, when your nephew first set eyes on her at an assembly in Meryton, he declared that she was not handsome enough to tempt him to dance. If I were to guess, I would imagine that Mr. Darcy calls frequently on his friend, Mr. Bingley, who is married to Jane, Elizabeth’s elder sister. I know Elizabeth is currently staying with the Bingleys in London. I do not know the haut ton, of course, but I daresay some of them, at least, enjoy gossiping. Your nephew is a wealthy man, Madame, and doubtless the subject of foolish whispering on occasion.”

She had a vague hope that her steady words would diminish Lady Catherine’s choler, and indeed, the lady did furrow her brow thoughtfully and tap her fan on the arm of her chair.

“That is quite sensible, Mrs. Collins. It is, as you said, entirely likely that this letter is the result of stupid gossip and disordered thinking. Nonetheless, I had best journey to Town soon and make absolutely certain that my nephew is not being led astray by a mere pretty face. Moreover, I can spend a little time with my daughter.”

“That is, of course, a most excellent plan, my lady,” Mr. Collins exclaimed, bobbing his head in his fervor. “I am confident that Miss de Bourgh will be most pleased to see you!”

Charlotte was quite sure that Miss de Bourgh had fled Rosings in order to get away from her mother, and she was also hopeful that Darcy, who had looked at Elizabeth Bennet a great deal the previous autumn, was truly pursuing her.

If Lady Catherine descended on the Bingleys and Elizabeth in London, it would be unpleasant. But there was nothing she could do, after all, except write to Elizabeth. She would do that as soon as she returned to the parsonage, and could only hope that the letter would arrive in London before Catherine de Bourgh.