by Linda Phelps
As for Mrs. Collins, I do not object to her returning to Hunsford, but she is not welcome in Rosings itself.
Lady Catherine de Bourgh
“There wife, what do you think of that?” asked Mr. Collins. He took the letter from her and made to reread it.
“I congratulate you, husband. It is an apology. Not a particularly gracious apology, but an apology none the less. You have made yourself indispensable to Lady Catherine. She cannot bear to have you absent.”
“That is what you think? Yes, you may be right. But what shall I do?”
“Return to Hunsford, of course,” said Charlotte. “Go as soon as you can. Do not give her time to forget the many services you perform at her behest.”
“I shall do that,” exclaimed Mr. Collins. He made as if to leave the room, then turned and said, “but only if you accompany me. I do not think our house is complete without you there.”
Charlotte smiled. It wasn’t romance of the Lovers’ Vows variety, but it would do.
Lady Lucas came upon her as she packed her little trunk. “I pray you, daughter, do not return to that place at this time. I would rather you not travel in a bumping carriage. Take care. Stay here until it is safe for you to travel.”
“Thank you, Mama, but I feel quite well. I think it best that I go to my home.”
“But who will tend you there? How can I know you will be well cared for?” cried Lady Lucas.
“I promise you that the women of Hunsford are well able to deal with what is to come.” Charlotte kissed her mother’s worried face. “And my husband will see that all is done properly.”
“My dear Charlotte, your husband is a man. Men do not know how to behave in this situation. But I have just now thought of a remedy. I will go to Hunsford and stay until you are yourself again. What think you of that?”
Charlotte considered. “It is just what I would wish. But Mama, you have so much to attend to here. How can you be spared?”
“Maria can take the responsibilities for a time,” the mother said, her voice loud with relief. “She can learn what it’s like to have the care of a home, She will one day discover that a daughter needs her mother at a moment like this.”
“I think she will,” said Charlotte. “I am more grateful than I can say that you will be with me. I will tell Mr. Collins our plan.”
“One thing,” Lady Lucas called after her. “Will I be expected to show cordiality to that Lady --What’s Her Name? I am not certain I can do it.”
“You can do it, Mama,” Charlotte said. “Leave the details to Mr. Collins. All will be well.”
Mr. Collins relished the company of his mother-in-law, a captive listener during the long coach ride. He told her at length of the beauties to be found at Rosings, the size of the rooms, the elegance of the furnishings, the gracious hospitality she might expect from Lady Catherine. “In short, I can promise you an unprecedented kindness and condescension from my patroness, who will, I am almost positive, welcome you to her home.”
Charlotte, at leisure to think her own thoughts as the coach took her home, considered the future. What was the period of her exile from the great house to be? What must she do to prove her contrition for the treachery she had not committed?
Elizabeth had taken her promise that she would soon visit Pemberly as a most honoured guest. As a practical matter, it was settled that Mr. Collins must accompany her, although he could not enjoy a lengthy visit. His duties at Hunsford would make an extended absence untenable. And, as Elizabeth had said, “Although I am quite positive that Lady Catherine will encourage a friendship between her rector and her nephew, there might still be certain objections.”
“It is unfortunate when families cannot give all members equal respect and love,” said Charlotte, “but often time topples the barriers they erect between themselves. I am certain that will happen in your case. In any event, I will plan to visit in the spring.”
As she had on an earlier journey attempted to picture the house in which she would live, she now imagined the splendours of Pemberly. Once she had hoped to be the mistress of Netherfield, but that wish now seemed to her to have been overly romantic and impractical, the result of a daily life without variety or anticipation. Charlotte had been in company with Jane Bennet and Mr. Bingley during her stay at Lucas Lodge. She had congratulated both without pain or envy. They were a handsome couple, well suited to each other. As for herself, she was content to be returning to her trim rectory, with the certain knowledge that in the fullness of time she would be mistress of Longbourn.
Chapter Ten
CHARLOTTE SAT MEEKLY IN the drawing room of Rosings. Lady Lucas had brought about the reprieve. Once introduced, she and Lady Catherine found that they both agreed with the latter’s opinions on almost every topic they touched upon. That is, Lady Lucas, nodding agreeably, seemed to agree with Lady Catherine. Charlotte discovered that her mother possessed a slyness she had not previously suspected.
“You understand, Lady Lucas,” said Lady Catherine, “that one of my objections is against the family of Elizabeth Bennet. The sister who ran off with a soldier—well, that is a clear indication of poor breeding, is it not?”
“Lydia was always a giddy girl,” said Lady Lucas. “I remember once my Maria stated a desire to carry on in the fashion of the Bennet girls, going to Meryton unescorted, flirting with the officers stationed there. I put a stop to that idea, as you may suppose.”
“And the mother did not see fit to curtail their wild ways. Nor did the father. Astonishing.”
“Mrs. Bennet,” said Lady Lucas “suffers much from her nerves. She has lived in constant fear of being thrown to the road by Mr. Collins once Mr. Bennet is dead. Now that the two eldest girls have found such fine husbands, she is much calmer.”
“I pray you, do not speak to me of the marriage of that Elizabeth Bennet and my nephew,” said Lady Catherine. “I shall never cease hoping that something will prevent it.”
“I’m afraid that is not likely,” said Lady Lucas, shaking her head sadly. “They seem very attached, and the plans were proceeding for the ceremony when I left the village to come here. I would not be surprised to hear that a date has been set which will unite them,”
Charlotte directed her eyes to the small garment she embroidered. The day of Elizabeth and Darcy’s wedding had been decided almost immediately after their engagement, as her mother well knew.
“I can’t bear to think of it, said Lady Catherine. “What I shall never forgive nor understand is that the family took that disgraceful girl, the one who eloped, back. I am told they welcomed, actually welcomed that Bennet girl and her husband into their home and gave dinners in her honour! What can they have been thinking? Whom did they expect to attend? What decent person could bear to be under the same roof as two such miscreants?”
“There was, as you can imagine, considerable curiosity as to how Lydia would conduct herself.” said Lady Lucas. “In general the neighbourhood had not thought poorly of the Bennets before this. There was much sympathy for them since all knew of the entailment. Then when one daughter followed another, and in time there was no further reason to hope for a son, one considered the prospects for the family in the event of Mr. Bennet’s death. The two eldest girls were steady even before they came out and were much admired.”
“I consider any acknowledgement of the existence of this Lydia Bennet to be shameful. Had the elopement been among any of my people, I would have insisted that the entire family be ignored from that point on. The more refined classes have a clear responsibility to serve, with their behavior, as models of correct conduct. The girl should have been denied entry back into her family. I said it then, and I say it now.”
“The Bennets saw it differently,” said Lady Lucas. She did not mention the dinner that she and Sir William had hosted for the newly married couple.
“Mr. Collins and I have been in complete agreement on this matter from the beginning, “said Lady Catherine “The girl should have been treated as one
who has died. That is the only proper way to deal with the situation. I’m sure that should you ever find yourself disgraced by a daughter in this manner, you would refuse to see her again.”
“My girls do not cause me concern,” said Lady Lucas. She did not mention the daughter that lay in her grave before she had lived a year. Then, in a smooth attempt to change the subject, “Now how many people do you expect to attend the ball?”
Since the ball would take place in two days time, there was no lack of topics for discussion. Charlotte, finding her position uncomfortable, excused herself and returned to the rectory.
“Colonel Fitzwilliam has called, “said Nancy, taking her jacket. “He’s waiting in the sitting room. I told him he could find you at the big house, but he said he would wait a while longer.”
Charlotte nodded. “Then I will see him and send him on his way, Do not be concerned, Nancy.”
He stood as she entered the room. To keep herself from having to look at him, Charlotte attempted a small curtsy, but immediately lost her balance. Colonel Fitzwilliam caught her before she could fall. He led her gently to a seat, pulling up a chair next to her. “You must be more careful, Mrs. Collins,” he said. “I would be most distressed if something were to happen to you now.”
“I have become somewhat clumsy, Colonel Fitzwilliam,” said Charlotte.
“And with reason. Lady Anne wrote me that you expect to be confined soon. When is it to be?”
Charlotte welcomed his forthright question. Not for weeks had any man except Mr. Collins looked directly at her. Certainly none had mentioned her condition. “Shortly after Christmas, I hope. I am becoming anxious to see the child, to see who he or she resembles. One likes to recognize the likeness of a parent or grandparent in a child’s face, you know.”
“Such things cannot always be counted upon,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam. “Think of Lady Anne. She does not much resemble her mother. She is smaller and more delicate, and her hair is the colour I remember seeing on my uncle, her father, although that was long ago. In any event, not all children take after a parent.”
“One would wish that there were ways to select the features to pass on to the next generation,” said Charlotte. “I myself received the worst features that my father and mother had to give me. I have his chin, her nose, his hair, and her eyes. It is not a happy combination.”
Glancing to the doorway to see if they were alone, Colonel Fitzwilliam took her hand and said, “I had hoped that when I saw you again you would have given up those ideas. Your intelligence and good nature radiates from you. It is a mystery to me why no man chose you to be his wife before Mr. Collins came your way.”
Charlotte found his words, comforting, although not based on reality. She knew that her face and hands were swollen. She had, in fact, never looked worse. It was pleasant to hear him. However, this talk had no place in her sitting room. “Have you come for the ball, Colonel? I believe it will be quite an excellent affair.”
“Yes. I tried to get Darcy to come with me, but I was made to understand that since he has engaged himself to Elizabeth Bennet he has been disengaged by our aunt.”
“I’m afraid there have been words on all sides that will require the passage of time to be forgotten.”
“Lady Catherine thinks too much of Darcy to be estranged from him for long. She will make her peace soon.”
Charlotte considered. “I am not sure she will ever forgive Elizabeth for winning his heart. Lady Catherine feels that Lizzy is not worthy of marriage to one of the finest men in the land. She speaks of Lizzy “tainting” the name of de Bourgh.”
“What a fool!” said Colonel Fitzwilliam. “She should rejoice that Darcy showed the sense to select such a very superior woman to be his wife. I comprehend now that the courtship began here in Hunsford, very likely in this very room, but Darcy did not confide in me. Perhaps he was not sure of her reply.”
“In any case, you now know why he delayed his departure for so long,” said Charlotte.
“I remain grateful that he did. I would happily have stayed longer.”
“But Colonel Fitzwilliam, you have not asked me about the well being of my sister Maria, or the health of the other members of the family.” Charlotte smiled to show she was teasing him. “You have not even commented upon today’s weather and guessed what will come tomorrow.”
“Yes, I have become very uncivil. Do you think you will dance at the ball? I would very much like to dance with you.”
Charlotte put a hand just below the high waist of her dress. “I think not, Colonel Fitzwilliam. But there will be a number of girls with whom you can dance. Lady Anne is one.”
“And there is the problem,” said the colonel. “If I seem to single Anne out for particular attention, my Aunt Catherine could develop a suspicion that our relationship is not based entirely on the fact that we are cousins. When last Anne wrote, she warned me to be very discreet.”
At his words, Charlotte laughed. “Yes, I believe you have mastered that skill. But now, Colonel Fitzwilliam, I must ungraciously ask you to leave. I am tiring, and there is still the dinner to get on the table.”
“Of course.” He rose. She noticed the grace of his movements. It would be a joy to dance with him. “But tell me another thing.”
“Anything, Colonel. You need only ask.”
“Have you chosen a name for your child?”
“Mr. Collins and I have put considerable thought into our choice,” said Charlotte. “If the child is a girl we will call her Catherine, to honour your aunt. If a boy, he will be named William, after my father. We are hopeful that Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth will serve as godparents..”
“Excellent choices,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam. “If I do not call tomorrow, I will hope to see you at the ball.”
“When Charlotte was again alone, she put both hands on her dress, below the waistline. She whispered, “It will not be long now, Catherine Amelia or William Frederick. You will enter the world soon.”
On the night of the ball, Mr. Collins could barely contain his excitement. “I think, my dear, that I will invite both Lady Catherine and Lady Anne to be my partners. I do not believe I get above myself by so doing. Since our return both have treated me very graciously.”
“An excellent plan, Mr. Collins, but I suggest you observe the manners of the other guests in this matter. It may be improper to make such invitations to people or rank.”
“You persist, my wife, in ignoring the very easy manners Lady Catherine practices when among her inferiors,” said Mr. Collins. “I do not fear she will consider that I am acting above myself.”
“Perhaps not,” said Charlotte. “Still, I advise you to wait.” She looked in the small mirror and down at her best gown. They would ride to the ball so she need not bother herself with concern for her slippers. “I am ready, Mr. Collins.”
The couple heard the cheery calls of the guests as they arrived within the light of torches lining both sides of the drive. Charlotte was surprised to recognize in herself the same mixture of anticipation and dread she had felt when she was an unmarried woman. She took her husband’s hand as he helped her from their little carriage. “Do not forget me tonight, Mr. Collins.”
“Of course not, my dear,” said he, but Charlotte knew his mind was already on the ball and his patroness. It might be difficult to get him back to consideration of her should she need him.
The ballroom blazed with wax candles. Its floor had been polished to the point where the dancers would be reflected in it once the music was played. Lady Catherine and Lady Anne greeted each guest with cordiality. However, Lady Anne took Charlotte’s hand and whispered, “Do you know these people? I do not have acquaintance with most of the people of this parish. Will you stay here and tell me their names?”
“Of course,” said Charlotte. She stood for some minutes as the line of guests greeted their hostesses. Then, before she had prepared herself, Colonel Fitzwilliam stood before Lady Anne.
“Cousin, this looks well.
I congratulate you on the elegance of the ballroom on this occasion.” He took her hand and held it a bit more than was required by manners. “And you, Mrs. Collins. I hope I do not presume when I say that you look very well, but I must ask, are you happy to be standing in this manner?
Lady Anne took his point. “Oh, yes, Mrs. Collins. I have been thoughtless. Cousin, escort Mrs. Collins to a chair. I would not have her fainting again.”
Charlotte took Colonel Fitzwilliam’s arm and allowed him to lead her to a chair on the edge of the dance area. “What is this about fainting?” he asked.
“It often happens to women in my condition,” said Charlotte. “It was nothing.”
He studied her for a moment. “And it is said that women are the weaker sex. Have you decided whether you will dance tonight?” he asked, his voice low so that only she heard him.
“Perhaps once or twice,” said Charlotte. “At present I am grateful to be seated. Could you find me a cup of punch?”
When he returned he said, “I will claim you for the third two dances, but now I must appear to be casually enjoying the company of several ladies
“And your cousin,” said Charlotte, sipping.
The couples assembled as the music began. Charlotte watched Barbara Marsden attempt to stay upright when her partner, Mr. Collins, crashed into her. Would the girl realize that this type of dancing was an unfortunate element in most balls?
Charlotte watched Lady Anne join hands with a man—a boy really—who danced with elegant ease. He must be one of the potential suitors.
Her eyes strayed to Colonel Fitzwilliam, who stood across from Mrs. Marsden. They made a graceful couple. There was no hint of illicit intimacy in their actions.
As the dance ended, Charlotte watched Lady Catherine speaking to Mr. Collins. Both turned their eyes in her direction. Mr. Collins nodded several times and approached Charlotte for the second set. “I do hope such exercise will not be too difficult for you,” said he. “If you do not wish to dance, I will understand.”