“Pemberley, Madam,” he corrected, fighting the urge to run in the opposite direction. If this woman was to be his future mother-in-law, he must get accustomed to her.
“Of course,… as I was saying… it is one of the largest in Derbyshire. Mr. Darcy is great friends with Mr. Bingley… you know, the man who took Netherfield? Over there... the fair one, see how well he looks next to my Jane…”
Darcy sighed and waited for her to finish, when he felt a gentle hand on his arm. Looking down, he was relieved to see Elizabeth coming to his rescue. Although an escape would surely send the tongues wagging, he did not care.
“Mr. Darcy? I believe you promised me the next dance,” Elizabeth said as her eyes danced with amusement. She had thought about letting him suffer a bit longer, but her heart would not allow it. Taking his arm, they quickly removed themselves from earshot, knowing full well that they would be the topic of conversation.
“Thank you for saving me.”
“Purely selfish on my part.”
“Is that so? And what else do you wish to have?”
“Oh, I cannot reveal all my desires at once.”
“Indeed? Well, I am a patient man.”
Elizabeth only smiled, her eyes had trailed to where her father still stood next to Jane and Charles. Just before dinner, he would announce their engagement. Indulging in a bit of fancy, she imagined herself and Darcy awaiting the same thing, but she too must be patient. Changing the subject, to the mundane, Elizabeth spoke of her sisters.
“I wonder if Lydia will be next. She does seem to be very fond of Mr. Wickham…as is my mother.”
Darcy’s face immediately darkened at the mention of his name. Wickham had wasted no time sharing his version of why he had left Pemberley for the volunteer regiment. As of yet, he had not chosen to divulge his, believing that people would think what they chose no matter what. It was only the opinion of Elizabeth that mattered.
“I must caution against such an association. Wickham’s character is not all what it appears.”
“I have heard the same about you, yet chose not to believe it.”
“You are a wise woman, the same cannot be said of all.”
By now, the dance had ended. Elizabeth’s curiosity had grown and with the excuse of needing air, she stepped out onto the veranda. Darcy, following, thought carefully as to what he should say. Admittedly, he loathed the sight of George Wickham, but he would not be the cause of slander. Outside, Elizabeth braced her arms on the balustrade and breathed deeply of the cool night air, tossing her head back as she did so. The sight of her was unnerving, but Darcy would have her know his mind before going further.
“As you know, Wickham’s father was steward to my father until he passed. We were raised together, same tutors, same toys... everything. What I only saw as generosity, I now see as a mistake. For when I went off to university, Wickham was expected to make his way in the world. Having professed a vocation for the church, he was promised a living. Unfortunately, he quit his studies after only a month, demanding compensation for the post. This was freely given, but once the money was gone, the demands increased. Once refused, he waited until I was out of the country to attempt an elopement with my sister. Georgiana was only thirteen.”
Breathless, Darcy paused, waiting for any sort of reaction, but was denied. Elizabeth, finished taking air, now clasped her hands behind her back and listened.
“But then how does he come to be here?”
“Threats of legal proceedings… of course it was an idle threat. My sister would not have withstood a scandal. I fear that now; your own sister is his next target.”
“But Lydia has no money. He must have some true feelings for her…”
“I hope you are right.”
The sound of the gong announcing dinner prevented any reply and Elizabeth accepted Darcy’s escort. His words provided much to consider. Lydia was a foolish girl, if she thought Wickham’s intentions were honorable, there was no knowing what she would do. For tonight, she would not think about Lydia, this evening was all about Jane. Making a silent promise to tell her father, Elizabeth turned her attentions to happier thoughts. Unfortunately, just like Cinderella at her ball, fairy tale evenings all must come to an end. Nearly two hours after midnight, the exhausted Bennet family returned to Longbourn with the desire to sleep until at least noon. But it was not a silent household that greeted them. Instead, nearly every light was blazing and the identifiable carriage belonging to the local physician stood in the drive. Something was very, very wrong. Entering the house, Mrs. Hill, still dressed in her black bombazine uniform, informed them of the calamity.
“Its Mr. Collins, sir. The doctor says he’s been poisoned, and Miss Elizabeth is to blame.”
~17~
Late the following morning…
Little sleep was to be had by Elizabeth Bennet that night. Despite her father having insisted upon his wife and daughters taking their rest, she had refused and now sat bleary eyed in her father’s library as the details of the incident were made known. Brooding silently, Elizabeth’s mind replayed her every action the last time she saw Mr. Collins. How could she have poisoned him? And for what reason? Unfortunately, the man pointing the finger of blame could not be questioned. After having relieved the contents of his stomach and bowels repeatedly, he was barely lucid and upon recommendation of the doctor, not to be disturbed on any account.
“I must say, I have never seen anyone so violently ill, but he kept repeating your name and something about tea, It was upon inspection of the teapot that I discovered it,” Dr. Crawford stated flatly, but gestured to a small cloth bag, tied with a blue ribbon, that now lay on a tray before Sir William Lucas. As the ranking person in the area, Sir William also held the position of magistrate. Having known the Bennets for over twenty years, and especially fond of Elizabeth, he found it impossible to believe that she would have a hand in something so disturbing. Yet, the evidence before him was incriminating. Oddly enough, despite his declaration, the aged physician was drinking his own tea, without fear of contamination.
“What exactly is in it?” Mr. Bennet asked with an air of calm that belied his nerves. Having excluded all his family but Elizabeth, he did not want hysterics compromising what was surely a misunderstanding.
“Wormwood primarily, and what smells like licorice root. Harmless enough in small doses. I have even recommended the use myself, but in this amount, well… it can have unfortunate effects, even death. It was his insistence that Elizabeth had given it to him deliberately which caused worry. He was so adamant.”
“I have never tried to hurt anyone, Mr. Collins himself asked me to put the herbs in his tea. He had a box filled with them,” Elizabeth acknowledged in her defense.
Sir William, having little sleep himself, and more than his share of drink the previous evening, massaged his temples in an attempt to alleviate a growing headache. While he had no doubts of Elizabeth’s honesty, as magistrate he was bound by law to support a full investigation. However, as a close friend of the family, he felt obligated to recuse himself. Sighing heavily, he cleared his throat before speaking.
“I suggest we locate this box of herbs and have the contents analyzed. If it is as Miss Bennet claims, then I will attribute this accusation against her character as the babble one often sees in delirious persons. Fevers can also have a similar effect, is that not so Doctor?”
“Er, yes, quite often. I should be happy to examine the rest of the herbs. Perhaps there is something present in the dried form that is not apparent once diffused.”
Relieved, Elizabeth followed the men above stairs to where Mr. Collins was now being tended by Mrs. Hill. The room, despite having had a thorough cleaning, still held the acrid reek of vomit. Gesturing to where the box with the foreign markings was hidden, Elizabeth held her breath as Sir William retrieved the item and carefully opened it. As promised, it was nearly full, with only two empty spaces.
“Chinese? Who knows what could be in there? Foreign dev
ils if you ask me,” Mr. Bennet said with censure, but his fear for his daughter had not abated. If Mr. Collins did not recover, there would be great trouble. Looking to where his heir lay, it was clear that the man was near death. His face, normally florid and ruddy, was the color of porcelain clay. Beads of sweat dotted his forehead and he lay unnaturally still. If not for the occasional muttering of unintelligible speech, he could be mistaken for a corpse, molting in the heat.
“How is my patient Mrs. Hill?” Dr. Crawford asked.
“Still breathing, but other than that nothing has changed.”
“Well that is good. If he becomes lucid, try to get him to drink something. Brandy water or ginger if he refuses spirits. We should know in a day or so how he will turn.”
Returning below, Sir William wrapped the box in plain brown paper and carefully applied wax to seal it, pressing his signet ring deeply.
“I will have this inspected, but if there is any further problem, it may be best that a neutral party make any final ruling. As Elizabeth’s godfather, whatever I say may be seen as favoritism. There is a doctor attached to the regiment, Dr. Crawford can confer with him and decide what to do. But in the meantime, I suggest we all try to relax. It is all probably just a misunderstanding.”
Giving her thanks, Elizabeth asked to be excused as her father followed the departing men to their horses. She was near faint from exhaustion and fear, yet a twinge of anger simmered inside. How dare Mr. Collins accuse her of poisoning him? She had only done what he asked. The man was an idiot. Retreating to her chamber, Elizabeth sought her bed, hoping that Jane was still asleep. Unfortunately, it was not to be, for inside, she found not one, but two of her sisters. Jane Bennet, newly engaged and secure in her future, held a trembling Mary in her arms as the younger girl made her confession.
“It was me… I did it. I poisoned him! And if he dies, I will be glad of it.
~18~
Three days later….
Despite the wishes of Mary Bennet, Mr. Collins did not die. His recovery, slow and filled with exaggerated lasting effects that required loud and constant lamentation, nearly drove the residents of Longbourn to distraction. He refused to leave his chamber, admitting no one but Jane, Mrs. Hill or the doctor. While this was to be tolerated, his insistence that someone taste all of his meals before him to ensure no further attempts of poison was insufferable.
“I shall be stout as a cow if this continues,” Jane moaned. It was uncharacteristic of her to complain about anything, but with an upcoming wedding, she was losing patience.
“At least you are not accused of trying to kill him,” Elizabeth replied dryly. In the days since the ball, she had been bound to the house and grounds. The inspection of Mr. Collins’ herb box had resulted not in her innocence, but a formal accusation against her person as he continued to insist his illness was due to her hands. The remaining herbs had been completely different from those found in the bag that had been discovered in the tea pot. This fact, was a surprise to all, but the three eldest Bennet sisters. However, despite Mary’s private confession of her intentions, Elizabeth would not allow her sister to take the blame.
“I don’t care if you did make it, although I must admit that rat poison is rather appropriate. You did not ever use it. Besides, that does not explain how it came to be with the rest of Mr. Collins’ medicines. Someone must have known what it was and deliberately put it there.”
“But who? I told no one.”
“I don’t know, but there will be an inquest and I don’t want another Bennet to be part of it. I can handle Mr. Collins, trust me.”
*****
Mary promised to keep quiet, but news of the incident had traveled fast. Sir William, secure in his belief of Elizabeth’s innocence, had mentioned the particulars to his wife. After that, all of Meryton was buzzing with gossip. In an attempt to not only find the truth, but also console her most intimate friend, Charlotte Lucas arrived at Longbourn.
“Oh Lizzy! How has all of this come to be? Mr. Collins gave the impression of being a very accommodating man, not one to place blame where it is not warranted.”
“Before, I should have agreed, but now… well I cannot explain it. Only that I simply did as he asked. Besides, what knowledge have I of such things? Unlike you, my interest in plants ends with the arrangement of flowers. I must rely on the truth to come out.”
Charlotte frowned; it was a carefully guarded secret that that she continued the ancient traditions of herbal medicine practiced by so many women in the past. Yet now, such work was considered inappropriate for ladies. Only men were considered to have the intellectual capacity to understand medicine. She considered it to be one of the world’s greatest inequalities, but there was little she could do to change it.
“My father tells me that the panel of officers includes Mr. Wickham and Mr. Denny in addition to Colonel Forster. They were chosen deliberately, as they have the most familiarity with you.”
“Then I will trust their judgement, but in the meanwhile, the waiting is terrible.”
Despite her positivity, Elizabeth felt a tremor of apprehension at the information. After what Darcy had divulged about Wickham, she was hardly reassured of his impartiality. With the problem of Mr. Collins, she had forgotten to speak with her father about Wickham. He had enough to worry about, and Lydia made no suggestion as to any sort of formal intentions. It was a subject that would have to wait until Mr. Collins was appeased. As if hearing his name being discussed, an irritated Jane Bennet entered the sitting room, and pleaded for relief.
“I don’t know why it has to be me or Mrs. Hill… surely Kitty or Mary can sit with him. With my wedding, there is much I must arrange, and Mrs. Hill has plenty of her own duties.”
“Might I try? We got on well enough, and I am not a member of the household… neutral ground so to speak,” Charlotte offered.
Charlotte’s suggestion was instantly taken as no one present would ever have thought she had any motive beyond that of kindness. However, from their first meeting, she had immediately deemed Mr. Collins as an acceptable husband. Although she would never do or say anything to harm Elizabeth, and truly believed in her innocence, it never hurt to take advantage when an opportunity presented. Going above, she paused before a hall mirror, pinched some color into her cheeks and tucked away a stray hair. Knowing she did not possess the natural beauty of Lizzy or Jane; Charlotte would still present her best. Knocking softly, she called through the closed door.
“Mr. Collins? It is Charlotte Lucas… I heard you were feeling poorly and simply had to see to your well-being.”
“Miss… Miss Lucas? Is it really you? Alone?”
“Yes, just me.”
“Well, perhaps for a few minutes. I could use a friendly face right now.”
Pushing open the door, Charlotte did her best not to recoil as the stench of unwashed flesh assaulted her nostrils. It was no wonder that Jane had her fill of him. The smell alone was enough to send a person running, but she was a tolerant woman. Leaving the door ajar for both propriety and ventilation, Charlotte went forward and patted his hand before taking the chair nearest the bedside.
“I am at your service.”
“You have proven to be the only constant in my present predicament.”
“Surely, it is not so bad, a misunderstanding that is all.”
“Oh, but it is! I have begun to fear for my life, for I realize now that this is the third attempt. At first, I believed it all to be accidental, young persons, especially spoiled girls, can be cruel in their pranks. But Miss Elizabeth! She must have been the one to orchestrate it all.”
“My dear Mr. Collins, say it is not so! Perhaps if you tell me everything, from the beginning, I shall have a clearer understanding.”
Mr. Collins, believing he finally had an ally, began to pour out his hypothesis. Beginning with the excellent suggestion made by his patroness that he choose a wife amongst his cousins, he prattled on for nearly an hour. Alternatively, Charlotte interrupted for
not only clarity of his meaning, but also to interject words of consolation on his behalf. It was only when he made his final assessment of why Elizabeth Bennet would desire his demise that Charlotte questioned her own logic.
“Witchcraft? You cannot be serious!”
“That is the only plausible cause. She must be under some sort of evil force, perhaps even a demonic possession. Why else would she behave so? And to think that she had been the one I favored, well no more. I am finished with the ladies of Longbourn. I only pray that Lady Catherine will not be too disappointed.”
Seizing upon this, Charlotte sought to secure Mr. Collins for her own. She would never stand between her best friend and a man, but clearly, Mr. Collins had no intentions of ever offering for Lizzy.
“I should think that a person as wise as Lady Catherine would applaud your decision as most prudent. A lady of any sense would be foolish to turn down a man of your standing.”
“I do appreciate your friendship Miss Lucas… Charlotte, if I may be so bold.”
“Of course. Are we not friends? And friends must provide what assistance they can. If you are truly not feeling safe, I must offer the hospitality of Lucas Lodge.”
“Thank you, dear Charlotte, but for now I must decline. As the future owner of Longbourn, I find it difficult to give up without a fight, but I will keep your invitation in mind… should it become necessary.”
Rising, Charlotte patted his hand once again. This time, she allowed her fingers to linger just a moment longer than was appropriate. The gesture, and the meaning behind it, was not lost on Mr. Collins. Smiling in return, he promised to call upon her as soon as he was able, and bid her good bye. Taking her leave, Charlotte was quite pleased with herself. It had been a most informative and productive morning. While she would do her best to secure Mr. Collins for herself, there was also no way that she would allow anyone to incriminate Elizabeth. It was time to make another call, this time to Mr. Darcy at Netherfield.
Refusing Mr Collins Page 6