Charlotte and Mr Collins stayed until the happy couple had been merrily sent on their way home to Oak Wood Farm and then Charlotte asked Mr Collins if they might go home too.
29
Upon their return home, Charlotte declared her feet hurt and once she had changed, asked for a bowl of warm water to soak them in. Mr Collins declared the wedding was a veritable success and spent the next three quarters of an hour detailing the entire event to Mrs Higgs who was truthfully very interested in hearing it. However, to her mind Mr Collins did not say enough about the dress and for that information she turned to Charlotte as she helped her to place her feet in the hot water that Jenny had brought.
Mr Collins left them alone in the sitting room to change as he had been chattering away to Mrs Higgs since he had arrived and had not even thought about it until then. Charlotte smiled at him and shook her head as he went upstairs. Mrs Higgs began to rub at Charlotte’s ankles and she sighed with relief at the woman’s expert touch.
Mrs Higgs looked up and Charlotte, “Ma’am, might I ask you a delicate question?” she moved her fingers to rub and the soles of Charlotte’s feet.
“Ooh,” she sighed again, “Yes of course, what is it?”
“Well I do not want to offend you ma’am, but… well, when was the last time you, you know?”
Charlotte looked at her, a puzzled expression on her face, “I what?”
“The last time you had your courses?” she whispered in case Mr Collins could over hear.
Charlotte’s eyebrows shot up, “I have no idea. Why do you ask?”
“It is just that, well… you are showing signs ma’am.”
“Mrs Higgs, I am not following you. I am showing signs of what?”
Mrs Higgs whispered even quieter than before, “Of being with child.”
Charlotte was too shocked to speak and sat staring wide-eyed at Mrs Higgs while she had her feet rubbed to ease them.
Charlotte nodded down at her feet, “You think they are a sign?”
“Well, your ankles are swollen. You have been nauseous; you have been off your food, and most telling of all, I am sure it has been more than a month since your last course, much more. I might be mistaken; do you keep a note of the dates?”
Charlotte nodded that she did, said she always made a mark in the corner of her journal. Mrs Higgs suggested that as soon as Mr Collins came down that they both go upstairs to her room to look in her journal and find out.
Mr Collins finally came back down and sat himself on the sofa with a book and Charlotte made her excuses and took Mrs Higgs to her bedroom.
She retrieved her journal and searched back for the little mark in the corner. Back she turned the pages and she still could not find the mark she was looking for. In all she went back two months, she shook her head, said it was impossible, and worked forward looking for the mark once again. What she had seen the first time was correct.
“Oh ma’am!” exclaimed Mrs Higgs placing her hand over her mouth, her eyes gleaming with happiness.
“Mrs Higgs…” Charlotte closed the journal and looked at her housekeeper a smile playing at the corners of her mouth, “I think we need to send for the doctor.”
Mrs Higgs sent immediately for the doctor as Charlotte said she would not be able to sleep if she did not know, and Mr Collins would wonder at her agitation. Charlotte remained in her room, pacing up and down while waiting for Dr Sawyer to arrive.
Dr Sawyer was a church deacon and as such felt that Mrs Collins was a priority patient and came to the parsonage within the hour.
Mr Collins was astonished to see him arrive, “Dr Sawyer, it is a pleasure to see you. To what do I owe the honour?” he sincerely hoped the accounts were not in error once again.
“I am here to see Mrs Collins. Is she above stairs?”
Mr Collins looked shocked, he had seen his wife in the best of health a little more than an hour ago and here was the doctor, whom it seemed, had been sent for to see Mrs Collins.
Mrs Higgs stepped in, “This way if you please doctor.” and led him to where Charlotte waited. Once she had seen he had all he needed she retreated to wait outside the room and to bar Mr Collins entry to the room.
Mr Collins glared at Mrs Higgs when she told him that he was forbidden to enter. He proceeded then to stomp rather than pace up and down the landing. He grew more and more worried as time passed and they waited outside the bedroom for the doctor to emerge.
At last, he did emerge and he nodded to Mrs Higgs to attend to Mrs Collins.
“Reverend, I will bid you good day and ask that you do not disturb Mrs Collins until she asks to see you.” he tipped his hat to him and then descended the stairs and departed the parsonage.
Mr Collins was beside himself with worry, first Charlotte had had a bout of dizziness and nausea, and then she had caught a cold. They had returned from the wedding and she had complained of aching feet and tired legs. He could not comprehend what could be ailing her and his mind reeled thinking the worst. He leant up against the wall, feeling it is coolness against the back of his head. What would he do without her?
Mrs Higgs opened the door to their bedroom and stepped out just as his thoughts had reached their darkest point.
“You can go in now, sir.” She smiled and scurried off downstairs a washbowl in her hands.
He tentatively stepped into the room and looked around for Charlotte; she was standing by the bed, straightening the counterpane. She held out her hands and he went to her and took them in his.
“My dear Charlotte, tell me that you are not ill.” his worried face looked pained.
“No William, I am not ill.”
“But… you had the doctor called.” He stammered.
“Yes that is true, but I am not ill. In fact I am in full health.”
His confused look forced her to spell it out to him.
“I am in excellent health William. Such excellent health, in fact, that you and I are going to be parents.”
Her meaning still did not register with him so she continued, “William,” she laughed, “I am going to have a baby!”
He stood staring at her while her words reverberated around in his head, “A baby?”
“Yes, a baby.” she laughed again.
He picked her up and swung her round, then apologised for mistreating her. She laughed at him and asked if he was pleased. The tears welling in his eyes were all the answer she needed. Upon seeing his emotion, she herself began to cry.
He folded her in his arms and held her tight, “Oh my precious Charlotte, my precious, precious Charlotte.” he said into her hair.
“William, I am so happy.” She cried.
* * *
All the rest of that day Mr Collins treated Charlotte as though she were a delicate porcelain doll and liable to break. This amused her but all her protestations for him to stop and to treat her as usual were ignored and so she resigned herself to being pampered. She knew it would not last more than a day or two and decided to enjoy it while it did. He asked her if he could read to her and she insisted the he read from one of her novels. However, this resulted in her laughing until her face hurt as each time a character kissed another or there was some romantic encounter, Mr Collins blushed, stammered, and could not read the words at all. Charlotte could not prevent herself from laughing at his discomfort and so they took it in turns to read the novel and each time there was an amorous part Charlotte had to read, while Mr Collins read the remainder. All the same, when Charlotte read the romantic parts of the novel out to her husband she noticed it had an effect on him and he blushed again and she still ended in laughing heartily. Their progress, therefore, through the book was slow.
They dined on trays on their laps in the sitting room that night and Charlotte expressed a desire to retire early. Mr Collins said he would join her, as he was understandably reluctant to be out of her presence at that time.
Therefore, they retired to bed early, Charlotte laid her head upon his chest and they talked about
the family they were about to start and began picking names for the unborn child. They began with names such as William for a boy and Charlotte for a girl, but Mr Collins made the mistake of telling Charlotte the names of his grandparents. The poor unfortunates had been named Theophilus and Magdalene Collins. Charlotte then had another fit of the giggles, saying that they sounded like characters in a terrible Biblical romance novel. Mr Collins rather than being affronted saw the humour in that, he too laughed, and from then on they both suggested bizarre names for their coming child until they fell asleep.
* * *
The next couple of days passed in a blur for Charlotte as she was cossetted and loved at every turn. Mr Collins was in a high state of emotions and Charlotte was pleased to see that. He was about to become a father, of course he was happy. Charlotte spent time speaking to Mrs Higgs about what she was to expect and Mrs Higgs dealt with the subject of childbirth delicately, not wishing to frighten Charlotte at all.
On Friday afternoon, they received an unexpected visitor. Mr Collins was in his book room putting the final changes to his sermon for the coming Sunday and Mrs Higgs led the guest into the sitting room where Charlotte was sewing.
She looked up from what she was doing, “Colonel Fitzwilliam!” she exclaimed, almost dropping her needlework.
Colonel Fitzwilliam waited until Mrs Higgs had left the room before he spoke, “Charlotte, I had to see you.”
When she did not reply, he continued to speak, “I have waited at the clearing two mornings now and you did not come. Then, Dr Sawyer came to Rosings for his usual visit to my aunt and said he had been to see you at the parsonage, my heart was in my mouth.” he sat beside her on the sofa. “You cannot imagine the agonies I have suffered worrying about you. Please tell me directly, are you ill?”
“No Colonel, I am not ill, not at all.”
His relief was obvious, “You cannot imagine how I felt after we quarrelled at the wedding breakfast.”
Charlotte was not aware they had quarrelled but she allowed him the courtesy of continuing what he had to say.
“I have been in agony. You must know how I feel for you. You must know I love you Charlotte.”
“Colonel, I…”
He interrupted her, “Please let me finish and then you can say all you want.”
She raised her eyebrows archly at his impertinence.
“I have loved you for some time now. I cannot get the memory of you out of my head.” He stood up and began to pace the room. “I have been thinking it all through. We can elope to York or somewhere north and we can live there as man and wife.”
Charlotte sat watching him wide-eyed, her mouth open in shock and disbelief.
“When sufficient time has passed I can get a lawyer to file for a divorce, claiming Mr Collins to be abandoned. Alternatively, if you prefer we can fight for a divorce immediately. I have enough of an income to support us both and pay for a solicitor. It will be hard, I have no doubt.” He stopped pacing, ran his hand through his hair, and looked at her, “But I know with you by my side it will all be worth it.”
Charlotte fought hard to keep her temper and her voice under control, “Colonel Fitzwilliam…”
“Please, my name is Richard. We have come too far for you to call me Colonel Fitzwilliam still.”
“Colonel,” she said pointedly, “If you would let me but finish.”
He looked shocked at her angry reaction.
“I have no intention of getting a divorce now or ever. And let me make myself perfectly clear I have no intention either of leaving Mr Collins.”
“But what about what happened in the clearing? Are you going to deny there is something between us Charlotte?”
“What happened between us was foolish and we should have known better. We are both adults and we behaved like immoral degenerates.” She stole a look at the door praying that Mr Collins was not listening in.
“I cannot believe you Charlotte.” he sat beside her again in disbelief. “Tell me you feel the same way I do. Do no leave me wretched. I love you.”
She could not answer him, she was angry that he would not accept what she had told him.
* * *
Mr Collins quietly stepped out of his book room upon hearing raised voices coming from the sitting room. He knew that a guest had arrived but had wanted to put his final thoughts down on paper and then had intended to join his wife and their guest. However, his train of thought had been interrupted by a raised voice and his wife’s somewhat hushed voice sounding angry. Concern led him to creep quietly to the door of the sitting room and listen in. The door was slightly ajar and he was taken aback at what he saw therein.
* * *
“You cannot possibly love him Charlotte! He is a bumbling idiot! The man is a fool!” the Colonel shouted.
“That man is my husband and I love him dearly!” Charlotte shouted back, now no longer caring who heard her. “And I do not take kindly to you disparaging him in my presence!”
Colonel Fitzwilliam was beside himself; he stepped forward, knelt in front of Charlotte, took hold of her hand, and kissed the palm passionately, muttering his professions of love into it.
Mr Collins burst through the door, “What is the meaning of this? Unhand my wife this instant!”
The Colonel rounded on him, “Or what?” he stood up, drew himself up to his full height and towered over the smaller Mr Collins, “Or you’ll fawn all over me and simper me to death?”
Mr Collins had never been a fighting man but he rushed headlong into the Colonel and pushed him backwards.
The Colonel laughed at him, “Get away from me you pathetic little man!” and pushed him. Mr Collins fell backwards and into the chair behind him.
Colonel Fitzwilliam turned his attention back to Charlotte, “Tell me you do not prefer him to me! Tell me you will come away with me, I love you!”
Mr Collins saw red at the Colonel’s words, his heart bursting with his newly discovered love for Charlotte, picked up the fire poker, and raised it above his head intending to strike the Colonel with it. However, the Colonel saw the movement out of the corner of his eye, reflected in the mirror above the fireplace.
He turned round and grabbed Mr Collins’ arm, “You thought you could attack me, did you?”, and this time he shoved Mr Collins back much harder than he had before.
Mr Collins lost his footing as he was pushed backwards. The force knocked him not only off his feet but also against the fireplace. His head hit the corner of the mantle with a sickening thud and he fell lifeless to the floor.
Everything seemed to move in slow motion as Charlotte watched the exchange between her husband and the Colonel. She watched but was helpless to help as her husband’s head hit the mantle. All she heard was screaming and the thumping of her pulse in her ears.
She realised the screaming was hers and time snapped back to its regular speed. She rushed forward to the slumped body lying on the floor. She raised his head and rested it against her lap. She felt the warm stickiness of his blood covering her hands and spreading across her skirts.
“Help, please somebody help me!” she screamed hysterically.
Mrs Higgs came running in closely followed by Jenny. The latter screamed and Mrs Higgs let out an expletive, and then shouted at Jenny to fetch the doctor immediately.
She then rounded on Colonel Fitzwilliam who was standing in disbelief staring at Mr Collins on the floor, “You get him up stairs and put him on the bed.”
Charlotte was unaware of what was going on around her, she kept screaming over and over again, “William, please wake up, William!” the tears rolling freely down her face.
Mrs Higgs pulled her out of the way and Colonel Fitzwilliam swept Mr Collins up in his arms and carried him upstairs. Once they were in their bedroom and Mr Collins was laid on the bed, Mrs Higgs asked what had happened.
“He tripped.” was all Colonel Fitzwilliam could say in response.
“Then I should make yourself scarce before someone questions your
part in his tripping.” she stared at him, her eyes hard and accusing.
He looked at Charlotte.
She looked back at him coldly, “Get out of my house.”
He did not need to be told again, he turned and fled.
Charlotte knelt on the bed crying over Mr Collins and wiping his head with her skirts, attempting to staunch the flow of blood. Mrs Higgs joined her in cleaning up the blood and together they attended to him until Dr Sawyer arrived.
30
Dr Sawyer took a long time examining the wound to Mr Collins’ head, checking his eyes, his breathing, his pulse and listening to his heart. Charlotte stood close by wringing her hands and Mrs Higgs stood next to her, her arm about Charlotte’s shoulders.
He bound the wound with clean linen and turned to Charlotte, “Head wounds often appear worse than they actually are Mrs Collins.” he looked at her gravely, “What concerns me most is that he has not regained consciousness.” When she looked at him blankly he explained, “I will not beat about the bush with you Mrs Collins. Unless he wakes up he will decline not recover.”
Charlotte began to cry again.
The doctor put his instruments away in his bag, “Keep talking to him. Do not leave him alone. We will know more within forty-eight hours.”
Before he made to leave he squeezed Charlotte’s hand, “and remember Mrs Collins, you need your rest too.” He looked at her over his glasses and she nodded that she had understood.
Charlotte was not lax in her bedside vigil; she never once left the room, not even for meals, which she had brought up on a tray. She read to Mr Collins, spoke to him, prayed with him, and all the while intently watched his face for signs of consciousness.
Mrs Higgs had asked her if she wanted the spare bed made up so she could sleep. Her answer had been in the negative, she insisted that she would not, even for one moment, leave her husband’s side. She thought her fatigue was overtaking her then, as she believed she saw Mr Collins eyelids flutter at her words.
Charlotte - Pride and Prejudice Continues Page 21