My child, I placed you in an unpalatable situation, but I pray you would not succumb to temptations which would lead you from your childhood teachings. You are a child of God, Lizzy, and the wife of one of his servants, though probably the most foolish of the lot. I pray you do not turn your back on Him or His teachings and that you are able to someday forgive your father for what he forced upon you. Your assurances of your well-being will be greatly welcomed. Until then, I am ever
Your loving father,
T. Bennet”
A tear fell upon the paper and Elizabeth quickly blotted it before folding the letter and placing it in her pocket. Her eyes fell upon the bare trees outside her window once more as she pondered her father’s words. Could she be the cause of Jane’s disappointments?
As quickly as the thought passed through her mind, she shook it off. Her ire rose as she pushed out of the chair and crossed to the fireplace. A few jabs of the poker caused the flames to leap and she pulled the paper from her pocket. Without reading it again, she consigned it to the flames; watching it curl, burn, and finally fall to ash. Did she not already shoulder enough weight? Was living with a fool like Collins not sufficient punishment? Must she now be the reason for every misery within her family?
She returned to her seat, careful not to upset William’s new tower, and took up Charlotte’s letter. Though a few missives had been exchanged between them in the three years since Elizabeth arrived in Hunsford, nothing truly personal had been shared. She wondered what news her old friend might have and broke the seal hoping it would brighten her spirits.
“Dear Eliza,
I fear you have long been awaiting a letter from me but am pleased to say I have a joyous excuse for my delinquency. I am certain your family must have reported the new arrival to Meryton. Mr. Sullivan, a widow with three children in their teen years, purchased Pulvis Lodge and took up residence last spring. His eldest two children are sons and away at school, but his daughter resides with him. She is far too young to move in society, but I have had the opportunity to meet her and she reminds me quite a bit of you. Indeed, my time spent with Katrina has increased my longing for our friendship, Eliza.
I realize you were shocked by my declaration prior to your marriage, but I cannot repent my words. I would hope that time has softened your feelings toward me, and we might once more enjoy a deeper friendship. In a step toward this end, I am sharing my news with you. Mr. Sullivan and I have been courting since summer and he has asked me to marry him. At my age, none, including myself, thought I might find a husband, let alone such a convivial one. Mr. Sullivan and I have much in common and I was well pleased to accept him. We are to be married the 20th of February.
With the weather being what it has been, and Mary shares you are increasing again, I understand should you not attend, but I long to see you once more. Should you wish to visit Meryton and find Longbourn wanting, Mr. Sullivan and I would gladly receive you.
I wish you well, Eliza, and hope to hear from you soon.
Yours etc.,
Charlotte Lucas”
Elizabeth knew she should be happy for her friend, and she was; but that bitter voice which had whispered in her ear since the day she left Ramsgate reared its head once more. Three years had passed and now Charlotte would be well settled in her own home with a man she esteemed. Oh, Mama would complain the attics at Pulvis Lodge were dreadful, but it was near Meryton and the man was respectable. She would join Jane in the ranks of happily married, while Elizabeth simply remained married.
She shook her head. Jane was not happy. Her eyes fell upon the fire. How long she remained in this position she did not know. William’s tugging at her sleeve finally drew her from her reverie and she noted it was past time for their nuncheon. She frowned as she realized Mr. Collins had not yet returned and suspected he was dining at Rosings.
After feeding her son and settling him for his nap, Elizabeth took some nourishment then returned to her drawing-room. She took a seat at her writing desk and replied to Charlotte’s letter, offering her congratulations, regret at being unable to attend the wedding ceremony, and agreeing that she too missed their close friendship. The missive was brief as Elizabeth was still unable to share the full details of her situation with Charlotte. Indeed, she could never voice her discontent with Mr. Collins or the joy she had found in another’s arms, let alone the true parentage of her children. She caressed her stomach once more and shook her head.
Before responding to her father, she decided to read Mary’s letter, but found nothing within other than a report of each of her family members. After leaving school, it was decided Lydia would study with Mrs. Armstrong who had remained at Longbourn as companion to Mary when the youngest daughters went away. Amazingly, Lydia accepted this offer and had even applied herself to some of her studies, obviously she saw this as better than returning to ‘the prison,’ as she called it. Little was said as to why Lydia had left the school or how, and Elizabeth often wondered what would become of her youngest sister. She still worried Lydia would one day be the ruin of the family.
Kitty had remained home after the Christmas holiday, her pleas to remain at Longbourn granted. Mary was certain she missed Lydia and voiced her desire that the two of them would not return to their previous ways now that Kitty’s wish was granted.
Mary said little of herself but reported on the tenants and sent along their greetings. Her only mention of Jane was to say that she had been indisposed and the family prayed for her continued recovery.
Tucking the letter into a drawer with others from Mary, Elizabeth settled back in her seat and stared at the blank page before her. No words of assurance came to mind. Nothing comforting flowed from her pen. She could not even find the greeting for her father. He had set this in motion. He had demanded this sacrifice from her and now he required forgiveness? She could not find it within her. She recapped the ink and cleaned her pen before returning the blank page to the stack.
A glance at the mantle clock caused her to frown. Mr. Collins still had not returned from Rosings. She was about to go below to see if the cook had received word that the man had been invited to remain for dinner when there was pounding on the front door. She opened her door to move that direction but her expanded girth slowed her pace and she heard Sarah answer the knock. There was a commotion and she arrived in time to see the maid’s pale countenance.
“Oh, Ma’am,” the girl whispered as she looked after the men carrying something up the stairs toward the bedrooms.
***********
“Mrs. Collins.” The apothecary, Mr. Dresden, pinched his lips together as he wiped his hands on a crimson stained rag. “Your husband was found at the mouth of the path leading to Rosings. It appears he slipped on some unseen ice and fell upon one of the rocks lining the road.”
Elizabeth stared at the closed door to Mr. Collins’ bedroom. She knew there were a hundred questions she should ask, but her mind had simply stopped functioning.
The man cleared his throat, his frown deepening. “Do you wish to know Mr. Collins’ condition?”
“Of course,” she whispered, hoping he would assign her odd behaviour to the shock of the situation and not a lack of feeling or, worse, a growing hope.
“It is unknown how long he lay in the elements. Do you know what your husband was doing outside on such a bitter day?”
“He was visiting Rosings.”
“And what time did he depart?”
“During the normal morning visiting hours. Mr. Collins attends Lady Catherine every Tuesday morning.” Elizabeth began to quake with … fear? … guilt? She knew not which. Folding her hands upon her stomach, she pressed her elbows into her sides to steady herself.
“Hmm.” Mr. Dresden tapped a finger against his lips. “We must send word to Rosings to learn if he arrived.”
“Do you …” Her voice came out as a squeak and Elizabeth swallowed before beginning again. “Do you believe he has been outside this entire time? However could he survive?”
“Indeed.” The apothecary turned toward the door, then back to Elizabeth. “I am uncertain if Mr. Collins’ current state is due to his injury or the extended time in such frigid temperatures.”
Elizabeth mustered her strength to ask, “And what is his current state, sir?”
The man pursed his lips in that annoying manner once more and looked her over. “I would not wish to cause a lady in your delicate condition distress, Madam. Perhaps there is someone else …”
“Mr. Collins’ immediate family is deceased and my own is miles from here. I am not without strength, sir. What is the extent of Mr. Collins’ injuries?”
For the first time, Mr. Dresden’s stern façade drooped causing a knot to form in Elizabeth’s stomach.
“I fear his injury is to the base of his skull and neck. Should he regain consciousness we will know more; however, I have seen such injuries leave patients without use of their limbs.”
“An invalid?” Elizabeth whispered, feeling a momentary injustice in being saddled with a husband incapable of walking or perhaps worse. Her cheeks heated with shame as she realized she had no one to blame for such a situation other than herself. Surely God had found a way to punish her for her sins and lack of repentance.
“We will know more if … when he awakens.” The apothecary raised a hand but hesitated just above her shoulder before allowing it to fall back to his side. “I will send word to Rosings. May I trouble you for writing supplies?”
“Of course.” Elizabeth led Mr. Dresden to Mr. Collins’ study, withdrew a sheet of paper for his use, and left him to his task. Standing in the hall, she was suddenly uncertain where she should go or what she should do. As his wife, was it not expected of her to be at Mr. Collins’ side? She had yet to even see the man since he had been carried into the house.
Unsteady legs carried Elizabeth up the stairs until she paused before Mr. Collins’ door. In the years she had lived at Hunsford, she rarely entered his room. The urge to knock struck her as ridiculous. She was mistress of this place and, as such, should be seeing to her husband’s care. Decision made, she opened the door and entered the room.
The heavy drapes were closed to keep out any drafts and the fire blazed causing the air to hang like an oppressive blanket over the room. Sarah, who sat at the bedside, stood as Elizabeth entered.
“He hasn’t wakened, Ma’am.” The girl shook her head. “His lips are no longer blue though.”
Elizabeth stepped closer. “Thank you, Sarah,” she whispered. “Did Mr. Dresden give you any instructions?”
“He said to watch over Mr. Collins and tell him if anythin’ changes.” She shook her head again. “Other than the lips, it hasn’t.”
With a nod, Elizabeth gathered her courage and turned her gaze to the man in the bed. Mr. Collins was buried beneath every available cover in the house. His countenance was so far in shadow as to be nearly unrecognizable. Elizabeth stepped closer and lowered herself onto the chair Sarah had vacated. A trickle of sweat ran down her cheek from her hairline and she wiped it away.
“Don’t you worry, Ma’am,” Sarah whispered. “I’m sure Mr. Collins will recover.”
A sudden pain coursed through her chest. Elizabeth realized that was the last thing she wanted. She closed her eyes, pleading silently for God to forgive her unchristian thoughts and allow her to set aside her pettiness that she might tend the stricken man before her. A tear slipped between her eyelashes, perhaps in mourning for the gentle woman she once was, and she allowed it to fall. She felt Sarah’s hand upon her shoulder and lifted her head.
As her eyes fell upon the man lying before her, she found him staring at her. Elizabeth was unable to suppress a gasp but acted quickly. “Sarah, fetch Mr. Dresden. Mr. Collins, you are in your room. Do you remember what happened?”
A gurgling sound came from the rector, but little more. The maid had yet to move, so Elizabeth gave her a slight push.
“Sarah!”
“Oh,” the young woman appeared as though she was coming out of a dream. “Of course, Ma’am.” Sarah turned and ran from the room. Elizabeth could hear her calling out for the apothecary as she descended the stairs.
“Mr. Collins,” Elizabeth tried again as she pulled the blankets away from his face. “Will you speak to me, sir?” The irony of this question was not lost on her and she was unable to suppress a smile.
“Ssshull aghur rrr.” His lips quivered.
The door opened behind Elizabeth and Mr. Dresden entered. Elizabeth stepped out of his way before he reached the bedside.
“He is making sounds, but I am unable to understand him.” She rubbed her hands before her, twisting her fingers nervously.
“He has begun to shiver, that is a good sign,” the apothecary murmured. “Mr. Collins, do you know where you are?”
Silence was the only answer. Mr. Dresden remained leaning over his patient, poking here and prodding there, but eventually straightened and turned toward Elizabeth.
“He is unconscious once more, but I have hope that he will awaken again.” The man smiled, causing his severe features to appear more relaxed. “Perhaps it was your presence which reached him.” He motioned toward the chair.
Elizabeth moved hesitantly forward and took her seat once more. She stared at the man before her, uncertain what she should say or do. Instead, she raised her eyes to the apothecary hoping for some direction.
“Just speak to him as you normally would do.” He nodded encouragingly.
She swallowed, thinking she normally would not speak to Mr. Collins if she was able to avoid it. “Mr. Collins, you are in your room. Were you able to see Lady Catherine?”
“You need not be so formal for my sake, Mrs. Collins.” Mr. Dresden chuckled.
Elizabeth frowned. “Mr. Collins demands formality, sir. I would be chastised were I to speak to him in any other manner.”
The apothecary’s humour fell away and Elizabeth saw a hint of pity before he turned his attention toward the opposite corner of the room. Uncertain what she should do, Elizabeth searched her mind for something else to say.
After several attempts to rouse him, with no responses, a soft knock came from the hallway door and Mr. Dresden answered it. The door was closed as quickly as it was opened, and the apothecary unfolded a piece of paper. Elizabeth watched as he read it over then ran his hand over his mouth and chin.
“I fear your husband never arrived at Rosings this morning, Mrs. Collins,” he finally revealed.
“Oh.” Elizabeth lowered her eyes to her hands which fretted in her lap. The vision of Mr. Collins lying outside in these bitter temperatures for so many hours filled her mind. “How does this news affect his recovery?”
“We shall see. I suggest you keep him warm.” Mr. Dresden began to gather his things. “I have bandaged his wound and will return in the morning to see how he fares. Should he awaken, you may give him water. Until we know the extent of his injuries, I would not suggest more.”
Elizabeth felt panic rising in her chest. “You are leaving?”
“Yes. There is nothing else I can do until he is awake and able to answer my questions.” He stood beside her and laid his warm, meaty hand upon her shoulder. “Do not tire yourself, Mrs. Collins, but allow him to know you are here. Perhaps should he hear your son playing …”
Bitterness filled her and she spat out, “William’s play distresses Mr. Collins. He believes the babe should be better mannered, quieter and neater.”
“I see.” The apothecary’s tone revealed his pity once more.
Elizabeth detested being pitied. She straightened her shoulders and spoke more forcefully. “Thank you for your assistance, sir. Should I send word if there is a significant change during the night?”
The man frowned as he gazed at the pile of blankets upon the bed. “I do not think that will be necessary. I will arrive shortly after sunrise.”
“Then I will have Sarah show you out.” Elizabeth tugged the bell pull before opening the door. “I thank you again, s
ir.”
Sounds of the maid ascending the stairs reached her as the apothecary bowed and she called out. “Sarah, please see Mr. Dresden out. He will return early to-morrow.”
When both were out of sight, Elizabeth closed the door and returned to Mr. Collins’ side, but did not sit. The fire still burned brightly causing the room to appear even warmer and she wished for a fan. She crossed to the window, opening the drapes wide enough that she might peek outside. The sun had set hours before and all was dark. If there was a moon, it was hidden behind the clouds. The cold radiating from the windowpanes revived her somewhat, so she was able to replace the curtains and return to the seat by the bed.
A soft rap on the door interrupted her thoughts of what to say to the incoherent man before her. “Yes?” she called.
The door opened and Sarah’s head appeared around the edge. “Shall I bring you dinner, Ma’am?”
Elizabeth ran a hand over her stomach as she sighed. “The smells might awaken Mr. Collins, but Mr. Dresden advised we not feed him. It would be a terrible thing to do to the man.” She pushed out of her seat. “Will you sit with Mr. Collins while I go below to eat?”
“Of course.” Sarah stepped into the room. “Master William has already eaten, Ma’am. Cook has him with her.”
“Is he in her way?” Elizabeth asked knowing how Cook disliked having anyone in her kitchen while she worked.
“I believe she is taking some comfort from his closeness,” Sarah replied before taking the seat Elizabeth had vacated.
Mrs Collins' Lover Page 32