“Deliberately killed!” exclaimed Elizabeth. “Other than your general dislike of Meryton, do you have any reason to believe that Mr. Collins was murdered?”
Yes, Lady Catherine did, thanks to her insistence on going to where the body had been found and her interrogation of those who had discovered it. Her ladyship explained that Mr. Collins had died from a blow to the head – apparently the back of the skull was bloody and broken – but the body had not been found near any large stones.
Elizabeth had to quell some queasiness as she listened to these unpleasant details. Then she posed questions of her own. “Was there any chance that Mr. Collins’s body was moved by the flowing water? Could it have been near a large stone originally and then moved by the current?”
But to this suggestion Lady Catherine made two reasonable objections. First, the river was not that strong right now. And second, Mr. Collins’s body had been discovered on the upstream side of the bridge, partly in the water but partly on the bank. She did not believe the water had moved his body at all.
Elizabeth shivered. Lady Catherine might be autocratic and meddlesome, but she was not at all unintelligent. She was, after all, Mr. Darcy’s aunt. “If Mr. Collins did not break his head from the fall, he must have broken it before. Are you suggesting that someone killed Mr. Collins by hitting him on the head, and then threw his body over the bridge in order to make it appear like an accident?”
“Yes, that is what I believe.”
“That person would have to be very strong, first to strike the blow and then to carry the body. Mr. Collins was not a small man.”
“Or there would have to have been more than one person. As I said, there is evil in Meryton.”
They had been standing near the open carriage door for several minutes; with these words Lady Catherine turned to go.
But Elizabeth detained her. “Does this have anything to do with Mr. Radclyff? I have honored your request for secrecy but if you wish me to be on my guard, then it would help for my information to be complete.”
Her ladyship hesitated, as if she were considering what to reveal. “Mr. Radclyff has been dead more than ten years, so he could not have anything to do with this. But someone has been attempting to spread vile lies about him. That is all I will tell you, Mrs. Darcy. I must go; my daughter needs me. And Mrs. Collins will need you. You must show her every attention. Do what you can to console her, and even more importantly, to protect her. If Mr. Collins was in danger, she may be as well.”
“But from what? From whom?” cried Elizabeth.
“I cannot answer you,” said her ladyship. She stepped towards her carriage and indicated to her footman that he should assist her inside.
CHAPTER XXIV
Elizabeth watched the carriage from Rosings depart, and then turned and walked slowly to the house. The possibility that Mr. Collins could have been murdered was both frightening and sickening, yet Lady Catherine’s remarks seemed to lead to that conclusion.
Before she reached the others in the drawing-room, she had to decide what of her conversation with Lady Catherine she should relate to the others. Elizabeth decided to reflect on her ladyship’s speculations a little longer before communicating them, for what was said could not be unsaid, and Jane, in her condition, should not be perturbed more than she already was. Instead she explained that Lady Catherine had emphasized her concern for Mrs. Collins and her desire that she, Elizabeth, would do everything possible for her – the truth, but not the entire truth.
They consulted as to what they should do, now that their noble caller had come and departed. Despite so much having happened; it was only early afternoon. “I think that I should go see Charlotte,” said Elizabeth. “Even if it is only for a few minutes.”
“And I should call on Mr. Bennet, and determine if he needs any additional assistance,” said Mr. Bingley. “Caroline, will you stay with Jane?”
Miss Bingley said that of course she would stay with Jane, even though Jane protested that she was not an invalid and did not need constant companionship.
Mr. Bingley ordered the carriage for himself and his sister-in-law, while Jane wrote another note to Mrs. Collins, including, on Miss Bingley’s request, a few words of concern from her. In the meantime Elizabeth prepared to depart, changing her brightly colored gown for one in a more somber hue. Jane gave the note to her sister, and then Elizabeth and Mr. Bingley departed in the Netherfield carriage and headed towards Meryton.
“This is a dreadful business, an absolutely dreadful business,” remarked Bingley.
“It is, it is,” said Elizabeth, considering how much to share of Lady Catherine’s conjectures.
“Her ladyship has a forceful personality.”
“Indeed she does,” said Elizabeth, smiling briefly before returning to the serious subject of the deceased Mr. Collins. “Before I call on Charlotte, is there anything particular that you can tell me about her husband’s death? Is there anything that I should know before I condole with her?”
But Bingley had no observations besides those he had already given.
Elizabeth wondered silently if others had conjectured in the manner that Lady Catherine had conjectured. What if the murderer himself had returned to the scene of the crime, and had observed others making their observations?
“Why are you frowning?” inquired Bingley.
“I am wondering if Lady Catherine could be correct; and if there is something not right with Meryton. First Miss King took her own life, and now Mr. Collins is dead as well.”
“I believe evil exists everywhere,” said Bingley, which was a rather dispirited remark for him to make. Elizabeth would not dispute it, however.
The carriage took them to Lucas Lodge; Mr. Bingley told his coachman to continue to Longbourn House, which had a larger paddock; when Mr. Bingley and Mrs. Darcy were finished at the Lucases, they would walk the short distance on foot.
Then they were ushered inside and met by Lady Lucas. “I do not know if Mrs. Collins is receiving anyone just now,” said Elizabeth, “but I felt that I had to condole with her if possible.”
“I’m sure she will see you, Mrs. Darcy. Ah, Sir William! Here are Mrs. Darcy and Mr. Bingley, come to condole with us.”
Sir William greeted them in a subdued manner and expressed his appreciation for their attention at this terrible time. He led them to the parlor where several of his daughters, including Mrs. Collins, were sitting. Maria Lucas was in tears, and being comforted by a younger sister. Mrs. Collins’s eyes were dry, but she was pale, very pale, befitting someone who had received a great shock.
Both Elizabeth and her brother-in-law expressed their grief and concern for everyone at Lucas Lodge, especially Mrs. Collins. Elizabeth gave Mrs. Collins the note from Jane; Mrs. Collins read it, thanked Elizabeth and her sister, and then handed it to her father. The note was read and passed around the room till it reached Mrs. Collins once more; she glanced at it again, and then put it with other notes of condolence. Mr. Bingley offered his services, for what, he did not know, but he was ready to be active on the Lucases’ behalf.
Elizabeth introduced the subject of Lady Catherine, and explained that her ladyship had called briefly at Netherfield on her way out of the neighborhood. The Lucases had always followed Mr. Collins’s lead in the extent of deference shown to his patroness, and this deference survived his demise, so they were dutifully impressed by this information. Then, when Elizabeth explained that her ladyship had given her a private message for Mrs. Collins, they were readily excused.
Mrs. Collins led Elizabeth to the breakfast-room, which they could have to themselves. They embraced and then sat down. “I am so grieved for you, Charlotte. It is a most terrible and unexpected thing to happen.”
“It is. I know that not everyone thought well of Mr. Collins, Eliza, but he was a good husband – to the best of his abilities.”
Elizabeth was heartily ashamed of her own expressions and judgments regarding her dead cousin, who had always treated her with kin
dness and respect. “You made him an excellent wife, Charlotte. As he once said, you made him the happiest of men.”
“My poor little boy! What will we do?”
Elizabeth assured her that if she needed assistance, she was ready to offer, and Lady Catherine wished to convey the same message.
“You are very kind, but I am not distressed financially,” said Mrs. Collins. “Mr. Collins and I were not extravagant. You need not concern yourself about that. And it is far too soon to make any sort of decision about the future.”
“I understand,” said Elizabeth, who was not certain that she did, but who wished to be as supportive as possible. “Charlotte, if it will not distress you too much, may we discuss what happened to Mr. Collins? We have both crossed that bridge thousands of times. How could he have fallen from it?”
“I do not know. I have been trying to comprehend it myself.”
“Can you tell me what happened yesterday evening?”
Mrs. Collins was willing to relate all she knew. While Lady Catherine’s carriage had traveled through Meryton on the way to Lucas Lodge, Mr. Collins believed that he had seen someone familiar. As he had not been completely certain – he had only glimpsed the person from a distance – he had told neither Lady Catherine nor Mrs. Collins the suspected identity. Late yesterday afternoon, when Lewis had settled down for a nap, Mr. Collins had walked into Meryton to look for that person again. He also said he might call on Lady Catherine to see if her accommodation was to her satisfaction and if he could do anything to ease her stay and to discuss the departure that had been scheduled for today.
“And do you know if he found that person? Do you have any idea who it could have been?”
Mrs. Collins said that she did not. She did not even know whether the person had been a man or a woman.
“And when did he begin this walk?”
Mrs. Collins reported that it had been about an hour before sunset.
“You were not surprised that he did not return to Lucas Lodge for dinner?”
“No, I thought that he had called at the Meryton Inn and that Lady Catherine had invited him to dine with her. I was too busy with Lewis and my family to notice his absence till quite late and even then I thought he might be on a sofa or in some other room, or even at the Meryton Inn itself. But I am only giving you my conjectures about his last night. What Mr. Collins really did after leaving here, I cannot say.”
Elizabeth explained that Lady Catherine had invited Miss Bingley to dinner at the Meryton Inn and had sent the Rosings carriage for her. Neither Lady Catherine nor Miss Bingley had mentioned dining with Mr. Collins the previous evening – and given what had happened, if he had been with them, both women would have mentioned the circumstance. “I will ask for confirmation from Miss Bingley when I return to Netherfield, but I believe it is safe to presume Mr. Collins did not dine at the Meryton Inn last night.”
“I expect you are right, Eliza – but then where did he go?”
But this question Elizabeth could not answer. She could only suggest making inquiries, to determine if anyone in Meryton had seen him yesterday evening. Mrs. Collins said she would ask her father and her brothers to make the inquiries and to see if they could learn anything about her husband’s last movements.
Then Elizabeth asked: “Did Mr. Collins tell you why he and Lady Catherine came to Hertfordshire? I know she had some business here, something which distressed her greatly, but she would not tell me what it was.”
“Yes, Mr. Collins said something similar.”
“From something that her ladyship said, I believe it may involve Miss de Bourgh.”
But Mrs. Collins only knew of one immediate concern that her ladyship had with respect to her daughter – other than the usual worry about Miss de Bourgh’s indifferent health – and that was the grave illness of Mrs. Jenkinson.
An idea struck Elizabeth. “Is it possible that Mr. Collins might have seen Miss de Bourgh in Meryton?”
The notion was so startling that Mrs. Collins momentarily forgot her grief. “Miss de Bourgh? What business would she have here?”
Elizabeth could supply no answer to this, but she believed it could account for Mr. Collins’s astonishment, and because of his deference for everyone associated with Rosings, could also explain why he did not mention her name before ascertaining that it was really Miss de Bourgh and what her purpose was in Meryton. Finally, Miss de Bourgh, despite her noble heritage and her autocratic mother, was both insignificant and small. If she put on the dress of an inferior, it would be easy for her to go about unnoticed.
Mrs. Collins acknowledged all these points, but raised some objections. She did not see how Miss de Bourgh could travel to Meryton without her mother noticing, and certainly not without her mother’s servants noticing as well. Besides, Mrs. Jenkinson was truly ill and it seemed highly unlikely that Miss de Bourgh would leave her for several days.
“You are quite right,” said Elizabeth. “Forget my conjecture.”
“I think Miss de Bourgh is not possible, but Mr. Collins definitely saw someone,” said Mrs. Collins. “Something happened last night. You are clever, Eliza; you must realize how unlikely it is that he fell from that bridge. And even if he did, how could it have killed him? My brothers jumped from it all the time when they were boys, and they never sustained anything worse than wet clothes and sprained ankles.”
“So you believe…?” Elizabeth could not finish the question.
“I believe – I believe that someone must have killed him. As does Lady Catherine, and even you, Eliza, even if you are reluctant to mention it to me out of fear of distressing me. But I could not be more distressed than I already am, so do not concern yourself about that.”
“Charlotte, I truly do not think that murder is the only possible explanation for Mr. Collins’s death, because even that seems unlikely. I cannot imagine anyone wishing to harm your husband!”
“Nor can I. But I cannot imagine his taking his own life, or having a fit of apoplexy, or even how an accident could have led to his death – yet dead he is. So murder must be a possible explanation, in which case it is wise to be cautious.”
“I agree with Lady Catherine that caution is necessary – she asked me to look after you, and to do what I can to protect you.”
Mrs. Collins smiled sadly. “Lady Catherine is not an easy woman, but she is capable of kindness.”
“She is certainly fond of you, Charlotte. And there is another point to discuss: Lady Catherine called Meryton wicked. Do you have any idea why? Could Mr. Collins have had any idea why?”
Mrs. Collins did not know but she believed that Mr. Collins might have had some sort of idea. He had hinted, upon his arrival at Lucas Lodge two days before that Lady Catherine was relying on him more than ever. Mrs. Collins had asked him to tell her what he meant but he had said that the matter was extremely confidential. She could have pressed, but the baby had needed attention, and Mrs. Collins had thought that she could ask him later. It had not occurred to her that Mr. Collins could be in any danger.
Elizabeth said that she completely understood.
The clock struck; their tête-à-tête had to end. Mrs. Collins said that she needed to tend to her son, and also to meet with others making condolence calls. Elizabeth rose to depart, saying that she and Bingley intended first to go to Longbourn House before they returned to Netherfield Park.
She shook her friend’s hands, and then said before departing: “Lady Catherine must know more than she was willing to tell me. But she might confide in you, Charlotte.”
Mrs. Collins promised that she would write to Lady Catherine at once, and if she learned anything of use, to share it with Elizabeth immediately.
CHAPTER XXV
Elizabeth rejoined Mr. Bingley and they continued on foot to Longbourn House. The walk was so short that they only had time enough to exchange a few impressions of what they had experienced at Lucas Lodge.
“Sir William cannot understand what happened,” said Mr. Bingley.
“Mr. Collins was always so careful.”
Elizabeth had to agree.
“He wondered if Mr. Collins could have been on the bridge after sunset and was somehow knocked off by a carriage traversing it at the same time. If it were dark, a coachman might not have seen Mr. Collins, and if the coachman were a little deaf, he might not have even heard him over the sound of the horses.”
“An accident, then,” said Elizabeth, her heart lighter at this suggestion. Mr. Collins would still be dead, but Meryton would not be the wicked neighborhood that Lady Catherine averred that it was.
“Yes – but his two eldest sons do not agree; they think something sinister must have happened. Still, Sir William and his sons plan to query everyone in the neighborhood with a coach or a cart and to determine if anyone traversed the bridge yesterday evening.”
“Even if that is what happened, they may not be able to discover the truth,” warned Elizabeth. “The vehicle may have come from outside of this neighborhood. Or even if the driver is from this area, he may not wish to admit what happened.”
Their discussion was ended by their arrival at Longbourn.
Mrs. Bennet was in hysterics, to which she had little right, as she had not seen the body and had claimed to dislike Mr. Collins when he had chosen to marry Miss Charlotte Lucas instead of one of her own daughters. But Mrs. Bennet rather enjoyed yielding to hysterics, and the occasion was too opportune for her not to take advantage of it. There were several strains to her volubility. First, Mr. Collins had been such an obliging man, healing the breach between the Bennets and the Collinses, and she had been very fond of him. It was shocking to think of Charlotte widowed so young, especially with a little boy. Second, there were too many funerals in the neighborhood this summer, especially of people dying far too young. Miss King! And now Mr. Collins! True, neither of them were officially residing here, as Miss King had only come for a few weeks and Mr. Collins had intended his visit to last only two days, but they had both managed to die here, which spoke even worse for Meryton. Third, the bridge! What if it were a danger to everyone? What if more people were to fall off and get killed? Mary, Kitty, her sister Mrs. Philips and even Mr. Bennet and herself – they were all at risk! Who could think that the bridge, on which they all depended, which they crossed more than once nearly every single day, could be putting them in such peril? Mrs. Bennet especially welcomed the arrival of her second daughter, to whom she could express all these thoughts afresh, as every other person at Longbourn House had already heard them several times.
The Meryton Murders Page 14