Chapter 13
Having already met with Lady Catherine that morning when she had handed William Collins an outline for his next sermon, the parson hurried home to begin to craft the perfect sermon which would be pleasing to her Ladyship.
He rang the doorbell. It was his own home, but it was his right for a servant to open the door for him. The maid of all work opened the portal.
He did not bother to notify his plain wife he was home. Since his failure to make Cousin Elizabeth jealous, even though it was not Mrs Collins’s fault, Collins spent as much time out of her company as was possible. He thought he was denying her the pleasure of his notice.
His hat and coat were handed to the maid who had opened the door for him, and Collins made directly for his study, ordering tea and many of his favourite shortbread biscuits to be brought to him.
Charlotte was seated in the back parlour, which had been set aside for her particular use when she had first arrived at the parsonage.
She heard the doorbell ring, and after the sound of the door being opened, she identified the voice belonging to the man she married, which she now owned was the worst mistake she had ever made.
Eliza’s words to Charlotte when she announced her engagement to Mr Collins reverberated in her head.
If only, she had listened to her friend.
Now, not even the promise of one day being the mistress of Longbourn was worth being married to the man to whom she was now tied.
If only to herself, Charlotte had to admit that Mr Collins being the heir presumptive of Longbourn had been a factor, but not a deciding one, in accepting him.
She had been a fool, but it was too late to do anything about it now.
She had accepted him in haste and now repented at leisure.
It had not taken long after Eliza arrived before Charlotte had divined the reason Mr Collins had offered for herself—to rub Eliza’s failure in her face.
The only problem was that Eliza did not repine her refusal of her distant cousin and heir presumptive of Longbourn—not even for the smallest measure of time.
Mr Collins had started with subtle reminders about the advantages of being married to him, and the more Eliza did not react, the more overt his statements became.
To say that Charlotte had been mortified, each time her husband had attempted to achieve that which he kept failing to do, was a gross understatement.
Although he had not been physically vicious to Charlotte, Mr Collins had begun to make snide remarks about her failing to make Eliza jealous.
As a result, he kept his company away from her other than to break his fast and for dinner.
She was sure her husband thought it a punishment for her.
The truth was that the less she saw of him the more she liked it.
If Mr Collins had come to greet her, Charlotte would have informed him that an express had arrived from Meryton. It was on his desk; she was sure that he would find it soon enough.
Collins sat at his desk and pulled a few sheets of foolscap from his desk drawer so they sat in front of him, without noticing the epistle on which he placed them.
He worked on the draft of his sermon until the maid entered his study with a tray in hand.
There was a pot of tea, a cup, a saucer, and a plate with about a dozen of his favourite biscuits.
The maid began to lower the tray before her master.
“Not on top of my work,” Collins barked.
He picked up the pages to move them when he saw a letter he had overlooked in his haste to draft his sermon.
He looked at the direction. It was from Mr Phillips, who, if he remembered correctly, was a solicitor.
He picked up the missive and indicated the now clear spot for the maid to deposit the tray.
He put the letter on top of his newly begun sermon, and he poured a cup of tea.
It was still steaming, so he took a biscuit, pushed it whole into his mouth, and began to munch.
He broke the seal and opened the letter.
There were some other documents with it, so he decided to put them aside and first read the words of the man who was so far below him.
8 May 1812
Phillips Law Offices
Meryton
Hertfordshire
Mr Collins:
This letter is to inform you that by the terms of the entail as written by James Bennet in April 1739, there is a clause which, I am afraid, disqualifies you from the line of succession to the estate of Longbourn.
“No, no, no!” Collins exclaimed aloud. “I will not be cheated out of my birthright! This is all prevarication made up of whole cloth.” He returned to the disgusting missive as he stuffed two more shortbread biscuits into his mouth to comfort himself.
Before you cry that this is an attempt to steal what you claim as your birthright, I strongly suggest you review the documents I included.
One is a copy of the Court of Chancery’s decision granting the petition to remove you.
Examine it and you will see the seal of the court affixed thereto.
It also, as it clearly states, ends the entail on Longbourn to heirs male.
A new deed naming Thomas Bennet the owner and not a lifetime tenant is being issued as you read this.
Next, open the entail document (a copy, also with the court’s seal is included) to page 4 and read clause 5.1.
I will paraphrase it. It bars all clergymen or any of their descendants from inheriting Longbourn. Even had you and Mrs Collins had a son, that son or any of his progeny would be expressly excluded.
The reason the late James Bennet added that clause is enumerated in it. I suggest you read it.
You are, of course, free to pay a barrister to represent you in an appeal to the Court of Chancery, but any honest man of law will tell you that you have no grounds to challenge your removal.
That path will only drain your purse, and it will be more than for the barrister’s fee.
If the court deems your case frivolous, they will make you pay for wasting their time over and above the great cost on top of a solicitor and barrister.
If you have thousands of pounds to waste, that is your right.
F.B. Phillips, Esquire
Solicitor
Collins picked up the entail document. It bore the court’s seal near the bottom of the page, and the clause the solicitor listed did, in fact, exclude him because he was a clergyman.
Then he looked at the document ending the entail, and it too was real.
He had to see Lady Catherine; she would be able to put an end to this injustice.
In her back parlour, Charlotte had heard her husband speaking to himself in his study, followed by the opening and slamming of the front door.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
“Mr Collins to see you, your Ladyship,” the Rosings Park butler drawled.
“The man was just here; he should be working on the sermon now! Show him in, so I may berate him for not following my instructions,” Lady Catherine commanded.
The butler bowed as he backed out of the drawing room like his mistress demanded. Soon enough, he was replaced by Mr Collins who bowed and scraped every few feet as he entered the room. When he arrived in front of the raised, throne-like chair, Collins bowed so low he almost fell over.
“Mr Collins, did I not order you to go home and write the sermon I wish you to deliver on Sunday? Why are you here and not doing as I ordered?” Lady Catherine demanded.
“I beg your pardon, my beneficent and wise patroness. That is, in fact, what I was doing when I noticed a letter on my desk. On my arrival home, my wife did not inform me that an express had arrived for me. This scandalous letter is from Meryton. My birthright has been ripped away from me,” Collins reported, bowing a few times during his retelling.
Collins hoped that if he made the story sound better for himself, his patroness would be more disposed towards assisting him.
“Show me this scurrilous letter!” Lady Catherine held her hand out.
As much as Lady Catherine de Bourgh liked to think she could order the world according to her whims, she was not delusional, and after reading the letter, she knew that she had no power in the matter before her.
“Hand me the documents you were sent,” Lady Catherine ordered.
He had hoped that his patroness would not read more beyond the letter. Unfortunately, the additional materials gave lie to his assertions that he had been ill-used and badly done by.
“Mr Collins, this is legal. You were only the heir presumptive, not the heir, and now you have no claim on the estate. This Mr Phillips has the right of it. You could employ every barrister and solicitor in the land, and nothing would change other than the balance of funds you have at your disposal. It is done.” Lady Catherine handed the sheets of paper back to her dejected parson.
As he departed his patroness’s presence, Collins walked out; he did not back out, nor did he bow once.
Lady Catherine was about to recall her underling and berate him for his disrespect. She decided that the shock of no longer being in line to inherit his cousin’s estate had made him forget what he owed her. She would forgive him the lapse this one time only.
There was an unpleasant thought that entered Lady Catherine’s consciousness.
She was stuck with this buffoon as her parson for his lifetime or until he resigned, which now he had no incentive to do.
She had only offered him the living once he had told her how he would be master of an estate in Hertfordshire, which he estimated would be in the near future.
She liked her lackeys to be subservient, but she did not suffer fools, and this one was just that.