by Linda Phelps
Lady Catherine, it seemed, had recognized the need to remind Mr. Collins of his manners and responsibilities.
“Perhaps for a few minutes,” said Charlotte as she rose to her feet. Lady Anne and Colonel Fitzwilliam were at the head for this set. Was it possible that the assemblage did not note and wonder at the looks they gave each other?
From listening to conversations between her patroness and her mother she had discovered which of the invited guests were intended to offer marriage to Lady Anne. None of them exhibited the natural charm of Colonel Fitzwilliam. Lady Anne would dance with each of them before the evening ended. Would any touch her heart as her cousin did? Would her delight in romance ignite another spark in her? Not likely.
“It would be excellent if somehow the lovers could gain Lady Catherine’s permission to wed,” thought Charlotte.
Mr. Collins managed to step on the hem of her dress. The ripping sound drew the attention of several dancers in the vicinity. Waving off her husband’s apologies, Charlotte retired to the room that had been set aside for such emergencies. There a cheerful maid repaired the rent.
“I think, Madam, that perhaps you should rest for a few minutes. I believe it is hot and crowded where they’re dancing, although I’ve not seen it myself.
Charlotte recognized that the girl would very much have liked to be dancing, although her humble position in society prevented such a thing. She thought of all the balls she had attended and all the dances she had enjoyed. She had not before considered the feelings of a pretty servant girl who, because of her rank, would never be asked to attend a ball.
“I went to the balls, and I have a husband and a home of my own,” she thought. “I am one of the lucky ones.”
From this dressing room she heard the music stop and the murmur of voices as gentlemen returned ladies to their chairs before searching for their new partners. Now she would dance with Colonel Fitzwilliam.
He had not approached her when the music resumed. The dancers began to perform their graceful figures, and still he was not there. Mr. Collins sought her out to say, “I am to dance with Lady Anne this time, but I cannot see her. Do you know where she is?” Charlotte could not blame Lady Anne for evading her obligation to Mr. Collins. Atrocious breach of manners as such abandonment was, it was exactly what could be expected of a selfish, spoiled girl who suffered enough for love.
Then Charlotte had a thought. She glanced around the room again to see if Colonel Fitzwilliam was present. She felt her face move into the familiar form of protective indifference, “Oh, perhaps she is with the card players.”
“Do you think I should mention her absence to Lady Catherine?”
He was asking her advice. “No, husband. You might alarm our hostess unnecessarily. Lady Anne will be back to dance with you soon.”
Lady Catherine paraded through the ballroom, being greeted by one and all and thanked for her hospitality. She accepted their congratulations as her due, without tiring at their repetitions. She was pleased with the party she had created. She did not seem to be aware that her daughter was not on the ballroom floor. The bowing, praising guests had all her attention.
Thus it was not until the party was breaking up for supper that Lady Catherine glanced around to seek Lady Anne. At the same moment a page pushed politely through the crowd and handed her a piece of paper.
Charlotte watched her read. She was not surprised when Lady Catherine began to scream.
Chapter Eleven
My dear Lizzy,
I cannot express how grateful I am to have your recent express letter. As you will know, I have been very concerned about the fate of Lady Anne &Colonel Fitzwilliam since their elopement. How wonderful that they managed to get to Gretna Green, marry, & make their way to Netherfield! I am sure the plan was the colonel’s. Further, it contained enough romantic elements to keep Lady Anne happy for years.
She will want to know the reaction of her mother and the many guests at the discovery that the couple had ridden into the night. Lady Catherine became agitated when she read Lady Anne’s letter, & soon had to be removed from the ballroom floor. We could hear her calling imprecations on Mrs. Jenkinson, who I am certain was wholly innocent of any part in the conspiracy. I believe I was the only one who guessed what had occurred to cause Lady Catherine’s reaction, but you can be sure I kept my ideas to myself.
We guests, who had only minutes before been invited to the dining room for a late supper, did not know how to behave. Our hostess had left us, but the food & drink waited. As my mother said, there was no point in letting it go to waste. The servers, not aware of that anything unusual had occurred, moved from diner to diner, offering a variety of delicious items In time we wandered back to the ball room to discover that my husband had taken it upon himself to recall the musicians to their place. As he said later, Lady Catherine, with her inevitable graciousness, would have wanted the ball to continue. Of course Mr. Collins also had no idea what had caused our hostess so abandon us so abruptly or he might have had another thought
The story was not generally known until the next day, but once exposed it moved from house to house with great speed. We here at the rectory have been besieged with callers who assume we are privy to details regarding the elopement. I will admit to you that for some time I had suspected that Colonel Fitzwilliam & not your Mr. Darcy was the object of Lady Anne’s affections. However, I never supposed the couple would do anything so entirely against the known wishes of Lady Catherine.
Please relay my congratulations to the newly married pair. I will send a letter to Lady Anne when I have definite knowledge of the way Lady Catherine intends to deal with the situation. She is, of course, angry, disappointed, & humiliated by the defection of her only child. Mr. Collins, who is needed by her daily for spiritual guidance, repeats to me what she says about the elopement, but I expect that time will soften her views.
I am happy that Mr. Darcy has included his own thoughts on the hastily made match in a letter to his aunt. At one time she respected his opinions entirely, but certain events have caused her to change her attitude.
Your own wedding day is almost here. I will be thinking of you and wishing you and Mr. Darcy the happiness you so deserve.
When Charlotte heard Mr. Collins open the rectory door, she placed the letter in her work basket. Lady Lucas nodded knowingly and continued with the small dress she was sewing. “Husband,” called Charlotte, “we are in the sitting room.”
Mr. Collins’s face showed the strain he suffered. Lady Catherine with a runaway daughter was not the same Lady Catherine who had delegated him to carve at her dinner table. Having no natural gift for understanding the sentiments of others, he was at a loss to understand the repinings she hurled at him as she recounted the wreckage of her life.
“And how is Lady Catherine today?” asked Lady Lucas. “Has she become more resigned?”
Mr. Collins sat heavily. “It is difficult to know how to help her. I remind her of her own words, that such a girl should be thought of as dead by her family, but she does not always seem to agree with me. I remind her that her behavior will be an example for any other parent so unfortunate to be in a similar situation, but she begs me to be silent. I remind her of her own words when my cousin Lydia so recklessly abandoned all she knew to be with a man, but she says the situations are not alike. She mourns Lady Anne as if she were dead, but upon occasion I think her inconstant in her resolve. She will not put her will to forgetting the girl completely.”
“Losing a child is a great grief,” said Lady Lucas. “I have lost one, but she is never lost to my heart. I would think that a parent who causes an estrangement will come to regret it.”
“Lady Catherine is not subject to whims,” said Mr. Collins. “Once she has declared that a wayward daughter should be thought of as dead, she will not retreat from that position.”
“Yet,” said Charlotte, “should she decide to give her daughter a measure of forgiveness, it cannot be considered a whim. It is simple e
nough to explain how people should act, but there are times when one’s own experiences cause one to reconsider their rules for behavior.” She shifted in her chair, which act caused Lady Lucas to look at her sharply.
“My dear Mrs. Collins,” said Mr. Collins, “I believe I have known Lady Catherine longer and more intimately than you have. I beg you, do not profess that you know more of her character than I do.”
Lady Lucas looked at him. “Still, my son, you are a man. I think that tomorrow I will call on her. A man, no matter how holy, is not always the best companion at such a time.”
“I will come too,” said Charlotte. “We will go early. No, Mr. Collins, you must not attend us. You need time to prepare your sermon for Sunday. I pray you, do not select a text that has bearing on this episode. Something general is called for.”
“The story of the good Samaritan always serves,” said Lady Lucas. “In any event, you should not expect Lady Catherine to attend.”
“Perhaps you are right,” said Mr. Collins. “When may I expect my dinner?”
Charlotte and Lady Lucas were escorted not to the drawing room of Rosings, but to a small parlour. The room was shrouded in curtains which kept away the sunlight. Lady Catherine, dressed in elaborate black mourning clothes, greeted them solemnly. Mrs. Jenkinson, dressed in a much simpler black dress, dabbed at her red eyes with a black bordered handkerchief.
“It is good of you to call,” said Lady Catherine. “I beg you sit and keep us company, for we have seen no one but Mr. Collins in several days. He has been giving me counsel.”
“He has other work today,” said Charlotte, “although I expect he will call later. He asked me to give his apologies for leaving you at such a time.”
“He need not call each day,” said Lady Catherine. “I was overwhelmed with grief at first, but now I merely suffer intolerably.”
Lady Lucas asked, “Would you object if I opened these curtains? Charlotte and I are doing some necessary sewing, and daylight is essential.”
Lady Catherine gestured her consent. “I have remained secluded in this room for several days. Perhaps a little light would not be unwelcome.”
“And now that it is brighter in here I might help you with your sewing,” said Mrs. Jenkinson. “I know the time is drawing short.”
The three women gathered about a table and began to ply their needles. Lady Lucas said, “We have not wanted to intrude on your privacy, Lady Catherine, but our thoughts have been with you.”
“I have been very poorly used by my nephew, Lady Lucas. Anne would never have left in this fashion if he had not convinced her to do so. I must be blamed for accepting his presence in this house for so many years, providing him with opportunities to win her heart, but how could I expect such a betrayal?”
“I cannot see that you bear any fault here,” said Lady Lucas. “Young people are so often are determined to make their own paths.”
“Perhaps their affection for each other is genuine,” said Charlotte. “They were much together, and may have fallen in love without design by either one.”
“You think that, Mrs. Collins? I tell you that Fitzwilliam has not a penny. How could he expect to marry my daughter and provide her with the kind of life she has known?”
“You know how girls can be,” said Lady Lucas. “Once they have formed a strong attachment, the prospect of poverty is nothing to them. Besides, a colonel in the army is not destitute.”
Lady Catherine paused. “But I am sure that my nephew expects me to give them a living or a handsome settlement. That is the reason he has tricked my daughter into the marriage.”
Charlotte felt there was a degree of truth in this accusation. Colonel Fitzwilliam had openly expressed to both her and Elizabeth his need for money. “But Madam, he must have known that you would not support him in this marriage, nor would you support your daughter. He could not have expected you to countenance their elopement by giving him money. Therefore it is quite likely that his love for Lady Anne is genuine.”
“And when do you expect to receive them here at Rosings?” asked Lady Lucas innocently. “You must be curious as to how they get on.”
“I do not intend to receive them,” said Lady Catherine. “I know that in your neighbourhood such things are accepted, but not here. I will not have them in this house. My daughter is dead to me, as is my nephew.”
Lady Lucas held up the garment she was hemming. “But think, Madam, there will be children. You would not want to be on bad terms with your daughter when the children come.”
Mrs. Jenkinson looked hopefully in the direction of Lady Charlotte. “Oh, Madam, I do not think I could bear knowing that Lady Anne was to become a mother and I not there to give her aid. I have known her since she was a baby. It is hard to be separated from her now.”
“I confess I had not thought about how you are suffering,” said Lady Catherine. “Your pain is nothing compared to mine, but I can see how you must also be considered as bereaved.”
“Lady Anne was like a daughter to me,” said Mrs. Jenkinson, dabbing at her eyes.
Lady Catherine walked to the window and looked out at the barren ground. “Perhaps,” she said, “I could send you to visit them. They are staying at the house of Darcy’s friend, So says he in a letter I received this morning from him.”
“Netherfield,” said Lady Lucas. “You can be sure they are safe and well tended at Netherfield.”
“Oh, thank you, Lady Catherine,” cried Mrs. Jenkinson. “With your permission I will leave tomorrow.”
“But understand that I have no curiosity about their circumstances or plans. I do not desire any report.”
“There will be none, Lady Catherine, I promise you,” said Mrs. Jenkinson. “Now if I may be excused to make myself ready for the journey—”
Lady Catherine gestured for her to leave. Charlotte and Lady Lucas exchanged glances and smiled..
A few days later Mr. Collins was drawn from his book room by the sound of a carriage. It pulled to a stop in front of the rectory, and to his astonishment, Lady Anne and Colonel Fitzwilliam alit from it.
“Mr. Collins,” cried Lady Anne, “we stop for only a minute to see how Mrs. Collins is faring. Then we will call upon my mother, who has requested we do so.” She entered the house calling for Charlotte. Lady Lucas greeted her. “We are happy to see you here, Lady Anne. However, my daughter cannot greet you as she would wish. I’m sure you understand.” She cast her eyes up the stairway. “Perhaps in a day or two—”
“Oh, of course,” cried Lady Anne, her eyes wide with excitement. “Do pass on my good wishes.”
“I will pass them on, and I will pass to you her congratulations on your marriage.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam, who had entered the house directly after his wife, took Lady Lucas’s hand. “Is all well?” he asked, also looking up the stairs that led to the bed chambers.
“So far all seems well,” said Lady Lucas, “but now if you will excuse me, I wish to go to my daughter.”
Mr. Collins bowed to the couple as they made their way to their carriage. “It has been my great honour to welcome you to my house,” he assured them.
“I believe it will be a day you will never forget,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam as he rapped for the driver to take them to Rosings.
Chapter Twelve
Three weeks later, Charlotte sewed at the table of her sitting room. Ignoring the advice of Lady Catherine on the matter, she insisted the baby sleep near her in a small cradle. The nurse Lady Catherine had engaged disapproved of this intimacy between mother and child, which fact alarmed Mr. Collins. He warned her once or twice about the dangers of such a rebellion.
“”Husband, this is my child and I will have her where I wish. Lady Catherine is not the mother. She may suggest how I may treat the child, but I am in no way required to obey.”
“I only repeat—”
“Do not repeat her words. Nancy is in the employ of Mr. and Mrs. Fitzwilliam, and I have few callers. The babe is good company
now that Lady Lucas has returned to her home.”
The childish contempt Charlotte had felt for babies was forgotten. The love she felt when she looked at Catherine Amelia was sharper than any fantasy of romantic love. She could not bear to be parted from the child.
Mr. Collins tiptoed shyly to the cradle where the baby slept. He looked with wonder at this marvel he had helped produce. Charlotte had never liked him better than when she saw him smile at his daughter. With a little encouragement on her part, he could be taught to hold the baby.
The new maid appeared in the doorway and bobbed a curtsy. “Colonel and Mrs. Fitzwilliam are here,” she announced.
The couple entered, bringing with them the fresh smell of a winter day. Lady Anne looking prettier than she ever had, Colonel Fitzwilliam his usual charming self. The expected questions about the health of family members and Charlotte herself were answered in a manner pleasing to all. Then Catherine Amelia stirred.
Lady Anne, who had possibly never before in her life been close to a baby, started in alarm. Colonel Fitzwilliam rose from his chair and made his way to the cradle. “Come, Anne,” said he. “Come see what lies in store for us.”
Lady Anne coloured a lovely shade of pink. “Husband!” she exclaimed. She joined him to examine the small bit of humanity. “I think she takes after Mrs. Collins,” she said.
“It’s too soon to know whom she will favour,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam. “Only time will tell.”
Lady Anne moved to sit next to Charlotte. “My mother has given us a house!” said she happily, “and an income that will serve us very well. We will be leaving in four more days.”
“That is wonderful news,” said Charlotte.
“I am not myself surprised to hear of such good fortune for you,” said Mr. Collins. “Knowing Lady Catherine as I do, I expected her habitual generosity would soon come to the fore. My wife and I have received more kindness and notice from her than we can ever express. How like her to sacrifice the pleasure she takes in your company for your own well-being. I expected from the moment I heard of your marriage that it would be so. Indeed, I told Mrs. Collins—”