by A K Madison
“Mrs. Bingley, you are pale. You are unwell.” Darcy took her by the arm and settled her within the deep shade of the tree where the apothecary was examining Elizabeth. Bingley had been detained by Captain Denny and the constables.
“She is beginning to come around, Mrs. Bennet. I believe she will come through this with little more than a red mark and a headache. She must have been terrified, and that would have caused the fainting spell.” The apothecary accepted wet handkerchiefs from Lydia and began bathing Elizabeth’s face, patting her cheeks, and chafing her wrists and hands.
“Lizzy, my little sparrow, wake up for your Mama,” crooned Mrs. Bennet. “Wake up, little bird. Let me see your pretty brown eyes, baby girl.” Darcy felt the tears stinging at the backs of his own eyes, threatening to spill over.
Colonel Forster and his aide arrived and began a conference with Captain Denny, Wickham, and the two constables. Bingley listened carefully.
“Let us begin at the beginning,” said Forster. He called the anxious coachman and footman over, and the coachman spoke.
“We drove the ladies into Meryton, where they spent about two hours in the shops, sir. Mrs. Bennet desired to visit her husband’s grave, yonder, to see to the new headstone. The younger ladies was opposed to the idea, but she persuaded them. Mrs. Bingley ordered us to drive here and to look the churchyard over careful. Brown, here, inspected the grounds and conducted the ladies through the lych-gate, and took up a watch.”
The coachman frowned for a moment, confused. “It all gets muddled after that. I heard a scream and saw the dead man attemptin’ to drag Miss Bennet away. She was struggling, and I got down to go to her. At almost the same time, the officers got here, and they got to Miss Bennet afore we could. That lieutenant over there, the tall one, forced Mr. Collins to drop the young lady and held him at sword’s point. At first, Collins talked of harming Miss Elizabeth. Then he were squealin’ and cryin’. The lieutenant kept that sword right on his neck.”
The coachman stopped again, more perplexed at this juncture than he had been previously. “Let me think, sir. I want to get this right. It were even more muddled after this.”
“Take all the time you need, Mr. ah—”
“Simmons, sir. Edward Simmons, head coachman to Mr. Bingley at Netherfield. By that time, two of the officers had unhitched my horses. I guess they were ridin’ ‘em bareback to get help. Anyways, I heard Mr. Collins shout somethin’ about home this instant, and I saw Mrs. Collins—Miss Charlotte Lucas as was—and next I knew, he was strugglin’ to get up. He run himself through on the lieutenant’s sword. There weren’t time to stop him.”
“Thank you, Simmons.” The colonel turned to Wickham. “It is clear from what I have seen and heard here that this man died while resisting arrest, and further that you had lawfully detained him to prevent any further injury to Miss Bennet. There will be an inquiry, so do not leave town, Wickham. But I see no reason to confine you to quarters. Based on these accounts, you acted in accordance with the law.”
One of the two constables spoke up, pointing his thumb at the body. “Where should we take him, sir?”
“Please have him carried to Longbourn, Constable.” A clear, feminine voice spoke from the direction of the lych-gate, and the group turned to see the small figure of Charlotte Collins. Her head was bare, and her pregnancy was obvious in the bright sunlight. “And if you would be so kind, send the undertaker’s man. And perhaps someone would be good enough to notify my parents.”
Jane stood, and leaning on her husband’s arm, approached Charlotte. “Charlotte, I am profoundly sorry this has happened. We are all sorry.”
“There is no need, dear Jane. I am the one who should be apologizing. How is Eliza? Is she awake?”
“She is awake and has spoken to my mother and to Mr. Darcy. She is still gravely distressed.”
“As am I. Please believe me. I thought I was a better judge of character. I had early judged my husband to be a very silly man, but I never knew he was vicious.”
“None of us did, Charlotte. Who could have known? Do you require any immediate assistance?”
“Thank you, no. My parents will assist me. But please, do keep in touch.” Charlotte rubbed her back. “I feel as if I had been run over by the London mail coach. I shall rest until my mother comes.”
“I will be in touch, Charlotte.” The two friends embraced, and Jane turned back to her family with her husband, only to be approached by Colonel Forster.
“Mr. Bingley, my officers and the constables will take care of what needs to be done here at the church. Please arrange to escort your ladies home and see to their comfort.”
Darcy, seeing that they were ready to depart, kissed Elizabeth’s hand, stood, and approached the group of officers. “Colonel Forster, Captain Denny, we are in your debt. Had it not been for your timely arrival and for the quick thinking of your officers, this might have ended quite differently.” He turned to Wickham, who was standing nearby. “Wickham, we owe you our particular thanks for preventing any serious harm to Miss Bennet.”
Wickham’s expression was only a few degrees from open insolence. “All in the cause of duty and honor, Darcy.”
“Nevertheless, I should like to speak to you. Would you do me the honor of waiting upon me day after tomorrow morning at, let us say, ten o’clock?” Though Darcy nearly choked on the phrase “do me the honor,” his request was courteous.
Again, Wickham’s expression was almost insolent. “Until day-after-tomorrow at ten, sir.” He saluted and turned briskly toward his captain, awaiting further orders. The return to Netherfield was quiet. Bingley and Darcy accompanied the carriage on horseback. The carriage-horses, tired and lathered from their unaccustomed gallops across the fields, were anxious for their barn, while the coachman and footman were on silent watch for any further trouble. The ladies rode inside, with Elizabeth’s head resting on her mother’s shoulder. She was alert but pale, and the left side of her face showed a red mark.
“It will be best to care for Lizzy at Netherfield, Jane,” said Mrs. Bennet. That way, I can keep an eye on you as well. Besides, I have no ice at the cottage.”
“Jane, you must rest.” Elizabeth’s voice emerged as a hoarse croak.
“Do not speak, Lizzy. Let me speak with Charles.” Jane had only to lean out of the window on her side. The carriage was moving so slowly that she could speak with her husband, who was on horseback. “Dearest, my mother and sisters will stay with us so that we may take better care of Elizabeth.”
“Netherfield it is.”
When they arrived at the house, Mrs. Nicholls was already waiting. “Mrs. Bingley, I suggest we give the ladies rooms in the family wing.” She called a maid and ordered that ice be prepared and brought. “Mr. Darcy, there is a couch in the family parlor that will accommodate Miss Bennet comfortably until her room can be prepared.”
Mrs. Bennet spoke up. “Jane, come with me. You need to rest for an hour or two.” She and Jane went up arm in arm behind Mrs. Nicholls.
Darcy had carried Elizabeth inside, and he did not put her down. Elizabeth, still in a state bordering on shock, simply kept her head on his shoulder. Her head ached, and the bruise throbbed, but aside from that, she did not believe she was seriously injured. She was content to allow him to hold her while she tried to get her disordered thoughts under control.
Darcy was experiencing a fierce anger overlaid by an anxious concern for the welfare of this most precious being and her family. He could not bear the thought of her being in the clutches of that monster, even for a few minutes. He was almost as concerned about the abusive words Collins had spoken as he was about the physical blow, and his thoughts shifted to an implacable anger with his aunt, who had been the cause of it all. He looked down at Elizabeth and saw that she was peering up at him anxiously. Smoothing out his expression as best he could, he whispered to her. “Don’t worry, my Lizzy. I will be near you every moment.”
He took her into the family parlor and laid her on
the Recamier sofa as Mrs. Nicholls had directed him. A maid followed with ice and towels to soothe her bruises, covering her with a light shawl lest she be too chilled by the ice. Darcy knelt on one knee beside his betrothed and held the ice to her face.
The thoughts of each were bent towards the other, but neither could say a word, and they contented themselves with looks. A long, quiet talk would have comforted them, but at that moment, Mrs. Bennet arrived. She approached her daughter silently, gazed at her for a long moment, and pushed back a wayward strand of the dark hair. “My poor Lizzy. I am so profoundly sorry that my carelessness has endangered one of my own children. I wish I could call back my foolish actions this morning. Forgive me.” Mrs. Bennet did not weep, and her voice was quiet and well-modulated, but her torment was plain.
“Oh, Mama. Of course, I forgive you.” Elizabeth’s voice was low. “How could you—how could anyone—know that he was so vile? You are too good, too decent a person to understand such wickedness.” She clasped her mother’s hand and squeezed it. “Where is Jane?”
Mrs. Bennet seated herself in a nearby chair. “I made her lie down. She has drifted off to sleep. I must take both of you into my confidence and swear you to secrecy. Jane is increasing. Charles knows, but they had wished to wait a few weeks before making an announcement.” She drew a shaky breath. “In these early weeks, a babe’s grasp on life can be weak. We must give Jane the opportunity to rest and recover from this shock, just as we must give you the opportunity to recover from your hurts—those seen on your face and those that may be in your heart, dear. You are a good and virtuous young woman, and you deserved none of this.”
Mrs. Nicholls bustled in shortly afterward to inform them that their rooms were ready. She had placed Elizabeth and Mrs. Bennet in a small suite. Darcy carried her up and laid her on the bed, clasping her hand and saying, “Rest now. I will look in on you later.” He gently kissed the hand he held, turned, and left the room. Mary arrived to watch over her.
Downstairs, he found Mr. and Mrs. Philips. “Word has spread all over Meryton,” said Elizabeth’s uncle. “That man was more than the rascal I thought him to be. He was a criminal.”
“I should like to see my sister,” said Aunt Philips. Perhaps I might be of some help.”
Darcy bowed. “She and Miss Mary are above-stairs at the moment, Mrs. Philips. Perhaps you would be good enough to sit with Miss Catherine and Miss Lydia. They have been alone together since we returned to Netherfield. They are in Mrs. Bingley’s parlor.”
“I shall go to them immediately. Thank you, Mr. Darcy.”
Darcy ushered Mr. Philips into Bingley’s study, where they found Bingley pacing back and forth. Mr. Philips accepted a brandy. Bingley shook his head. “Damn the man. I should not say so, since he has paid the ultimate price, but what a devilish thing to do to an innocent young woman and her family!”
“I agree with you completely,” replied Darcy. “I could not have imagined it, though I should have. Elizabeth told her mother that no decent person could have foreseen it. She was correct.” He settled back into a comfortable chair. “Where are Dr. Price and Mr. Randall? I have not seen them in all of this.”
“Dr. Price has gone to wait on Mrs. Collins. Whether we like it or not, he is still the shepherd of that flock, and nothing will deter him from tending to it. I presume Mr. Randall has accompanied him.”
“That is as it should be.” Mr. Philips swirled his brandy and began to pace, too distressed to keep his seat. “Charlotte Lucas is another innocent harmed by that man. It is shameful.” He looked out of the window, then turned to face Darcy. “What precisely happened, Mr. Darcy?” After Darcy had related the entire story, Philips added, “Fanny must be feeling dreadfully guilty.”
“It was not her fault. A desire to see the final resting-place of a loved one is entirely appropriate. She should have been permitted to make her visit in peace.” Darcy sighed. “For my part, I must also remember that Wickham will be here day-after-tomorrow morning at ten. I wish to question him about why he did what he did, and then try to discover precisely what was said. I was astonished to see him defending Elizabeth rather than leaving her to her fate, and I am certain there is a reason behind it.”
“Tis a great deal for you to shoulder, Darcy,” replied the older man. “Lizzy has always been a strong girl, even when she was quite small. But she feels things more keenly than she lets on.”
“I know it. And from what I heard, she has a great deal to contend with: not only the injury to her face, but the ugly words that Collins spoke. May he stew in hell.” Darcy stood and finished his drink. “I should go to her.”
“Let her rest for a while, Darcy.” Bingley stood as well. “She needs to rest just as Jane does, and I feel certain that they gave her a cordial to help her sleep. Jane refused anything. She has some strange ideas these days about strong drink and medicines.”
“You are right. Her mother and sisters will have her well in hand.” Bingley offered the decanter of brandy, and Darcy shook his head. “Much as I would like to sit here and enjoy your brandy for the rest of the afternoon, I have a great deal to do. Would you mind ringing for coffee?”
“And sandwiches. I shall do so immediately.”
As Bingley finished ordering their luncheon, Emerson knocked and entered the study. “I have only just heard. How are the ladies?” He bowed to Mr. Philips.
“Both are doing as well as can be expected. But this has been quite a shock.”
Emerson settled into a seat. “Unfortunately, this brings with it an entirely new set of problems, sir. What will become of Longbourn?”
“I can tell you that,” said Philips. “The estate is entailed, which is how it came to Collins in the first place. He is, or was, the only surviving male heir of the Bennet line. He and Mr. Bennet were cousins. Their grandfathers were brothers, with Mr. Collins’ grandfather being the younger brother. Their great-grandfather, set up the entail.” Mr. Philips set down his brandy glass and poured himself a cup of coffee before continuing. “The estate has always been handled by a firm of solicitors in London, Joseph Baker and Sons. The matter was thoroughly investigated by that firm when my brother Bennet died this past February. I have handled Thomas Bennet’s personal affairs for years, and I was kept apprised of the investigation’s progress. There are no other male heirs. Therefore, since Mrs. Collins is with child, we wait. If she gives birth to a son, the estate goes to him in his lifetime.” He looked around at each man in the room before continuing. “If she gives birth to a daughter, the estate is to be disposed of by the terms of the great-grandfather’s will. That will is kept at the Baker firm I just mentioned, and it was last consulted when my brother Thomas died. Fortunately, the old man did us all a favor and kept it simple. By the terms of that will, the estate will go to Jane Bingley in fee simple.”
Silence took over the room as each of the men digested this interesting piece of news. Bingley spoke up first. “I am astonished. I had no idea, and I do not believe Jane knows, either.”
“The possibility of this happening is still somewhat remote,” replied Philips. “Collins was not yet thirty when he died. And you should know that the property will be held in trust for her rather than becoming yours. However, there is still an unborn child who may inherit.” Philips sat.
“I would say that simple Christian charity demands that Mrs. Collins be left in peace until she has been delivered of her child. I do not know, though one of the ladies might, when that would be.” Bingley was quite decided on that point.
Mr. Philips leaned back comfortably in his chair. “Yes. In order to protect the Bennet interests, I need to contact the firm in London. I shall not do so until the man has been properly buried. The widow will of course live on in the manor until the birth of her child.”
Darcy excused himself to go to the library to work on correspondence, which included an urgent dispatch to the Earl of Matlock. Emerson returned to his duties, Bingley went to sit with his wife, Philips went to his wife to
see if he could assist with Kitty and Lydia, and so the afternoon wore on.
Jane, looking pale but otherwise in good health, rose and dressed in the late afternoon. She went to Elizabeth, found her sleeping comfortably watched over by Kitty, and went downstairs, where she found Lydia and Mary conversing in hushed voices in the parlor.
“Oh, Jane,” cried Mary. “It is so good to see you up and about! Are you sure you are not suffering any ill effects?” Neither Mary nor Lydia had a clear idea of what those ill effects might be, which caused them to be doubly concerned.
“No, my dears. None whatsoever. However, it was a dreadful shock to all of us. Lizzy is resting comfortably, and I presume Mama is also taking her rest. She will doubtless wish to sit up half the night with Lizzy.”
“How does she look? How is her face?” Lydia was almost afraid to ask the question.
“I could not see, as you know she often sleeps on her stomach. But Mrs. Nicholls knows what to do. She is applying ice for fifteen minutes of every hour and will continue to do so for some hours yet.” Jane settled herself with her sewing basket.
“I cannot believe such a ridiculous man could be so wicked.” Lydia shivered. “I am so thankful he did not marry one of us. But poor Charlotte. What will happen now?”
No sooner had she asked, then Dr. Price entered the room, supported by Mr. Randall. The older man looked fragile, bowed down by sorrow.
Jane immediately rang for tea, and no one spoke until Dr. Price had been given a cup of the restorative brew. “Dear Dr. Price. It grieves me to see you looking so disheartened,” Jane began. “How—how are things at Longbourn?”
“Not well, Mrs. Bingley. Not well at all. We had been there less than an hour, enough time for Sir William and Lady Lucas to arrive, when Mrs. Collins began to feel the birth pangs. One of the servants ran for the midwife, and almost as soon as Mrs. Fairleigh arrived, Mrs. Collins was brought to bed of a tiny infant, a girl. Despite everyone’s best efforts, she breathed and moved for only a quarter-hour. I baptized her, of course, and she was the smallest infant I have ever beheld. But she tried hard to live, yes she did.” He finished his tea and handed his cup to Jane with shaking hands. When she had refilled it, he took a sip and continued. “Mrs. Bingley, you should know that after all those terrible events, she named the babe Elizabeth Jane.”