Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
A SURPRISING ACQUAINTANCE
The lure of golden light and fresh breezes pulled Richard into the fields the following morning.
What were his bed and blankets to the fresh leaves of spring, gilded with dawn’s glowing rays?
What were the promises of stultifying exchanges with his aunt to the call of the crystalline sky?
On such a glorious day, remaining abed was akin to blasphemy.
No, on such a day, every man with sense would be out glorying in God’s creation.
He rose and dressed quickly, then padded through the house and out to the stables. Rosings possessed some excellent horseflesh in its stables, perfect for a ride through the park, and Richard was intent on availing himself of this amenity.
His ride took him down a secluded grove by a stream through the park, past the fields with their promise of summer’s bounty, and eventually, past the parsonage.
It was still too early for the inhabitants to be about, but the house showed clear signs of life.
Smoke rose from the chimneys, and a maid could be seen outside the kitchen door, hanging laundry and haranguing some other servant whom Richard could not see.
The upper curtains had been drawn open; the family must be awake.
His curiosity would have to wait. He could never call at this time of day; he would have to meet them all later.
He was satisfied with his cousin’s company, but he was a friendly enough man that he enjoyed making new acquaintances, no matter the comments made about the Collinses by Lighton and his cousin.
A foolish man might even provide a certain entertainment, if the exposure to his company were sufficiently limited.
Drawing his horse up short, he sat for a moment watching the house, then turned around for a gallop through the park before returning to Rosings.
Darcy was already in the breakfast room when Richard strode in later that morning, freshly washed and shaven after his ride. “It is a grand day,” he offered by way of a ‘good morning.’ “Have you taken the air yet?”
Darcy nodded into his tea. “I walked down the lane into the village. Little has changed, although the railings on the bridge by the pond need to be replaced. The wood is starting to rot through.”
“I shall inspect it later.” Richard helped himself to some coffee and a selection of breads and cheese for his morning meal. His ride had given him a good appetite.
They sat for some time, discussing the estate and their plans for the day. Neither their aunt nor their cousin Anne joined them, both ladies preferring to take breakfast in their rooms.
Then there came a tap at the door, and the butler entered. “Mr Collins, the parson, is wondering if the gentlemen are at home.”
Darcy groaned, but Richard beamed a wide grin. This might be amusing. “Yes, of course! Show him in, Cardhew.”
Mr Collins was a heavy-set man of about six-and-twenty years with a red face and a cloying expression.
He looked the sort to make the smartest clothing seem like misshapen rags, and current fashions did him no favours.
There was a tracing of mud on his shoes, and he shuffled into the room and turned to face the two men at the table.
His eye slid over Richard before settling upon Darcy, whereupon he executed a most elaborate and old-fashioned bow.
“Mr Darcy! What a pleasure to be once more in your company. You have, I trust, found your aunt and cousin in the very best of health. Lady Catherine always expresses such attention to my own affairs that I am likewise most solicitous of her own well-being. You, sir, I trust are well and had a most pleasant and beneficial journey.”
He did not wait for Darcy to respond but turned immediately to face Richard. “I, sir, am Mr Collins. I hold the living at the church in Hunsford, just down the lane. I am honoured to receive the gracious condescension of Lady Catherine de Bourgh. May I ask your name?”
The little toad! To dare to introduce himself like this, and to demand such intelligence of Richard was beyond insufferable!
Collins must surely know who he was, for he had come to Rosings with the express purpose of making himself known to the newcomers.
Even if he were not aware of Richard’s rank, he had to know that a relation and guest of Lady Catherine must be above him.
If the man had any sort of education or manners, he would wait to be introduced rather than take this duty upon himself.
Every ounce of goodwill drained away. Richard was no longer prepared to be amused.
Darcy’s excellent breeding, however, exerted itself.
He rose to his feet and greeted the unsavoury parson.
“Cousin, may I present to you Mr Collins?” He spoke in an overly formal voice, showing Collins how it ought to be done.
Then he turned to the clergyman. “Mr Collins, my cousin, the Honourable Colonel Fitzwilliam, son of the Earl of Matlock.”
There! That ought to show the toad where he stood in rank.
Collins displayed not the first part of embarrassment. “I must invite you to my parsonage. There are those within who would be pleased to renew your acquaintance, Mr Darcy. My wife, of course, you know from Meryton.”
Richard happened to glance over at his cousin and saw the strangest look come over Darcy’s face.
He was clearly unprepared for this news.
Whatever could that be about? Would Darcy confess under the influence of a barrage of questions and a certain quantity of brandy?
But there was no time to contemplate this, for Collins had more to say, barely pausing to draw breath.
“Mrs Collins has invited to stay with us another whom you know, my own cousin Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Your esteemed presence in my humble home would do great honour to both ladies, who are, I am certain, more than eager to greet you and welcome you to the neighbourhood.”
Darcy’s face went white, and he stared, slack-jawed for the briefest moment.
The expression on his visage had now transformed into something quite different, but no less impenetrable.
Was that disdain that Richard saw? Confusion?
Or something else? He thought he knew his cousin well, but he could not penetrate what was happening in Darcy's mind.
Nevertheless, he was most interested to meet these ladies whom his cousin had known all those months past, no matter how annoying the parson was.
Perhaps he might gain some insight into what about them troubled Darcy so.
“Yes, of course, Mr Collins,” he nodded in his most aristocratic manner.
“By all means, I would be delighted to meet Mrs Collins and her friend. We shall be ready anon. Shall we not, Darcy?”
Darcy looked like he was about to be ill, but he nodded his acceptance.
“Please allow us some moments to gather our belongings, Mr Collins. We shall meet you in the front hall. It is not far to the parsonage, I gather, no more than a ten-minute walk through the park.”
The red-faced parson agreed and bustled out of the breakfast room to await his companions in the hall.
The path between the manor house and the village of Hunsford trailed through the woods and across a short wooden bridge that spanned the stream.
Soon the towers of Rosings were lost to view for the trees, although the distance was not more than half a mile.
This was similar to the path that Richard had found earlier this morning, and he smiled at the recollection.
Eventually the trees thinned, and they emerged into a field speckled with the wildflowers of early spring.
The main path itself continued past the parsonage and into the village, which lay just beyond the church, but a smaller cobblestone path diverted to the back gate of the cottage garden, and thence around the house to the parsonage itself.
Collins led them through the front door, calling out, “Charlotte? Charlotte, my dear? We have company!”
Richard suspected that Mrs Collins knew already of their arrival, since he thought he had seen a shape in the garden as they emerged from the woods. Regardless, when she emerged from the room in which she had been sitting, it was with an unflustered face and a warm smile.
Mrs Collins was a plain woman, about Darcy’s age of eight-and-twenty, with a pleasant and sensible face.
She possessed none of her husband’s fussiness of manner and exuded a calm and competent demeanour.
Only her choice of husband spoke against her character, but women did not always have much control over that matter.
Any husband, unless he were particularly cruel, was preferable to a life of dependence upon impecunious parents or a careless employer.
He thought briefly about Emily’s insistence that she had enough of a portion for an independent life and then wondered what Emily would think of Mrs Collins and her choice. Would she approve?
Mrs Collins regarded the company for a moment before greeting them with civility and more elegance than Richard had expected.
“Mr Darcy, how nice to meet you once more. What a pleasure to have you in my home. You are very welcome. Colonel, it is an honour to know you. Please, come into the parlour.” She led them through a white-painted door and stopped before adding, “Mr Darcy, I believe you know my friend, Miss Bennet.” The look on her face was pointed, and Darcy’s visage took on that stony aspect that he adopted when he felt most awkward.
The parlour was a small but comfortable room with slightly shabby furniture and a large window that looked out onto the laneway outside.
Mr Collins began to babble about Miss de Bourgh riding past on her phaeton and her condescension in stopping for a moment’s greeting, but Richard’s attention was drawn to the other ladies in the room.