Chapter 4
Darcy paced the foyer at Rosings Park as he waited for the physician.
“Is that my nephew?” Lady Catherine shrieked, as she came down the wide staircase in her dinner finery. “What are you doing, Darcy? I see your manners are appalling. Do you expect me to sit at dinner with you dressed like you are going on a fox hunt?” The lady said stridently.
Darcy winced.
He wondered how he never noticed how rude and totally overbearing his aunt was. Only that morning he was thinking of how having Mrs Bennet as a close relation would be insupportable. Now he realised that Mrs Bennet in comparison to his own aunt would be a much less intrusive guest.
Before Darcy could answer her very rude question, he heard the rumble of a carriage driving up to the front door. He did not wait for Mr Gibbs, his aunt's butler to come and open the door; he did it himself and walked out to meet his physician.
The moment the carriage stopped Darcy opened its door, but rather than welcome the man to Rosings he got into it with the physician, Dr. Denville.
The man looked startled, “Mr Darcy, I received your message as you can see sir. But I believed I was summoned to treat your aunt or your cousin.”
“I beg your pardon Dr. Denville if you were led to believe that.”
“So no?” The doctor looked confused.
“No Doctor, you were summoned here to treat Mrs Collins.”
“I see. And who might that be?” The doctor said, peeved.
As the carriage turned onto the road to the parsonage Darcy raised his brow at the physician in annoyance, “Dr Denville, Mrs Collins is a friend of mine and the wife of my aunt’s rector. Have you a problem with treating someone less grand than your customary clientele, sir?”
The doctor looked down at his hands folded on his lap, feeling properly chastised.
“No of course not sir, I will treat anybody who requires my services. But especially somebody closely connected with the Darcys and de Bourghs”
“Very well, here we are then.”
Mr Darcy exited the carriage and without looking back to ascertain if the doctor was following he walked straight to the parsonage door and firmly knocked on it.
Ruby opened the door and moved out of the way for the gentlemen to enter, while curtseying hurriedly, “Mr Darcy sir, do you wish to see Mr Collins?”
“No,” Darcy looked at the maid, surprised, “I brought the doctor to see Mrs Collins. Did Miss Bennet not inform the household that the doctor would be coming tonight?”
“Miss Bennet is upstairs with the mistress sir, while Mr Collins is in the dining room having his supper.”
“Please lead the way to the dining room then, we will inform Mr Collins that the doctor is ready to attend to his wife.”
“This way sir,” the maid nodded.
Ruby knocked on the door and without waiting for permission pushed it open and made way for the two gentlemen to enter.
Mr Collins did not lift his head from his full plate of mutton, potatoes, peas and gravy, which he seemed to be enjoying greatly.
“Mr Collins,” Darcy called, “please accept our apologies for this intrusion during your dinner, sir.”
Mr Collins scrambled to his feet and using his napkin attached to his collar wiped his mouth, “Mr Darcy what do I owe for this honour, sir?” He asked surprised.
Darcy looked confused, “Did Miss Bennet not explain that the physician I sent for from London would be here tonight?”
“Physician? What physician?”
“My personal one; Dr. Denville.”
“Why would I need a doctor?” Mr Collins asked looking a bit miffed.
Darcy glared at the parson, “are you telling me that you are not aware of your wife’s need for a physician?”
“Well…” Mr Collins looked down, finally intimidated. “Mrs Collins is simply increasing, sir.” He said meekly.
“Simply?” Darcy raised his brows mystified. “From Miss Bennet’s distress I witnessed this morning as she tried to find help for your wife, there was nothing simple about this situation, Mr Collins.”
Finally Dr. Denville pushed past Darcy and addressed Mr Collins directly, “whether you knew of your wife’s illness or not, I am here now and I would like to examine my patient, if you please.”
“But…”
“Mr Collins,” Darcy stepped closer to the man looking down at him with all the authority he could muster, “you either lead the good doctor here to your wife’s bedchamber this instant, or we try to locate it ourselves. One way or another, she will be examined by a proper physician.”
Mr Collins looked at his steaming plate of delectable food with yearning…
then he focused on the two formidable gentlemen standing over him, “Very well Mr Darcy, Dr. Denville, please follow me.” He threw his napkin on the table, gave a disgruntled look to the maid standing aside and stepped out of the door with the other two gentlemen following him closely.
Mr Collins rapped on the door and waited.
Elizabeth opened the door and Mr Collins pushed his way past her, addressing his wife and completely ignoring his cousin, “My dear, Mr Darcy is here with a physician from London to see you.” He then turned his sour look toward Elizabeth, “although I have no idea why, since it was Cousin Elizabeth who requested it from Mr Darcy.”
Dr. Denville entered the room without ceremony and addressed Mr Collins, “you sir, may go. The young lady will stay for propriety’s sake.”
“I beg your pardon,” Mr Collins puffed his chest up, “this is my wife and I will not be going anywhere.”
“Yes you are,” the doctor said with authority, “Mr Darcy, please remove Mr Collins.” Then turning to Elizabeth he asked, “What is your name, miss?”
Elizabeth squared her shoulders, “Miss Elizabeth Bennet sir. What is yours?”
“Miss Bennet I beg your pardon,” Mr Darcy intervened, “this is Dr. Denville my personal physician. Doctor this is Miss Bennet and your patient is Mrs Charlotte Collins.”
“Thanks Mr Darcy,” the doctor nodded and bowed to the ladies, “now please remove the husband as we will not require his help.”
“But… but…” Mr Collins tried to protest but Darcy grabbed him by the arm and gently but firmly turned him towards the door,
“Come Mr Collins, very soon we will know more about your wife’s condition and you will be able to be at ease.” Darcy doubted very much that the man cared about his wife’s condition for he was convinced that Mr Collins was nothing but extremely selfish.
The two gentlemen returned to the dining room where Mr Collins proceeded to swallow his dinner as if it were his last. The sounds that emanated from the table were so disgusting that Darcy decided to remove himself to the parlour, saying that Mr Collins could finish his dinner in peace, to which the man simply nodded his approval.
A half hour later the doctor came to Darcy in the parlour, accompanied by both Elizabeth and Mr Collins.
The doctor and Elizabeth looked grim and worried while Mr Collins looked confused.
“Well how is the patient Dr Denville?” Mr Darcy asked.
“Not very well I am afraid.”
“What do you mean Doctor? My wife is simply increasing,” Mr Collins voice was slightly panicked.
The doctor looked at him with an expression of shock, “did your wife ask you to call a physician to see her, Mr Collins?”
“Well…” the man faltered.
“Yes or no sir?” The doctor asked impatiently.
Mr Collins shifted on his feet nervously but appeared to have nothing to say.
Elizabeth waited and when she realised her cousin refused to answer the question, she replied to the doctor herself.
“Yes, she did, sir. But he called the mid-wife instead who said her condition was normal.”
“When was that, Miss Bennet?”
Elizabeth cleared her throat nervously looking at Mr Collins to intervene. But he was looking at his shoes and simply refused to engage.
“A few weeks ago sir, before I arrived in Kent.”
“When did you arrive madam?” The doctor insisted.
“Five weeks ago.”
The doctor turned and glared at Mr Collins, “Mr Collins, is it at all possible that you have watched your wife suffer for weeks on end knowing that her life hangs in the balance, while she carries your child and you, sir,” the doctor waved his finger under the parson’s nose angrily, “did absolutely nothing for her comfort?”
Mr Collins squirmed, “the mid-wife assured me that…”
“That what, sir? I am given to understand that your wife implored you to summon a physician, yet you, in a most ill-judged attempt at economy, sent instead for a mid-wife. She is not, I assure you, upon the point of giving birth yet. She is unwell, gravely so, and it lies quite beyond the proper province of a midwife to determine the nature of such an illness. Do you comprehend me?”
Mr Collins paled and looked as if he might faint. However the doctor seemed untouched by the parson’s discomfort.
“Mrs Collins is in grave danger.” The doctor reiterated, “Not only is her life in jeopardy but also that of her baby.” He finally looked at Mr Darcy, “I understand this household suffers from a scarcity of servants, which will put Miss Bennet under a heavy burden, looking after her friend day and night.”
“What do you recommend Dr Denville?” Mr Darcy asked with a tone of command that seemed so natural to him.
“I recommend we relocate Mrs Collins to the manor house, where not only I can stay to monitor her condition but we also have a plethora of servants, eager helpers to help Miss Bennet and myself in the arduous task of bringing Mrs Collins back into full health.”
“Absolutely not!” Mr Collins protested having found his voice again, “I would not burden my noble patroness with something as mundane as the health of my wife.”
Three pairs of eyes looked at him dumbfounded.
“Mundane?” Miss Bennet looked at her cousin with fire in her eyes.
Darcy suspected she would have throttled him if they had been alone. But she was not done yet and speaks her mind she would,
“How dare you Mr Collins, to speak of your wife’s health so nonchalantly? Does she mean nothing to you, even when she is carrying your heir?”
“Cousin Elizabeth, obviously you do not understand the nuances of the upper-class, madam.” Mr Collins seemed to be on the cusp of launching himself into a lecture about the English Nobility when Mr Darcy interrupted him,
“Mr Collins I beg your pardon, I know Mrs Collins is your wife and ultimately you should have the last say regarding her welfare, but in this instance I am overriding your rights sir. Mrs Collins will, this very night, be transferred to Rosings Park. Her health and safety is more important than upper-class nuances.” Darcy finished the sentence and bowed to the parson.
Then he turned to Elizabeth and said, “Miss Bennet please make sure that Mrs Collins is ready for transfer in the next hour. I will come myself with my carriage and a couple of footmen to assist her.”
“But… but…”
Mr Collins attempted to protest yet again but the doctor interrupted him, “It is decided Mr Collins, the best you can do now is pray to the God you claim to serve that your wife will regain her health and strength to give birth … to your son or daughter.” The doctor spat the last few words looking ill-used.
Then Darcy and the doctor left the parsonage while Elizabeth climbed the stairs to her friend’s bedchamber, where she would begin the task of readying Charlotte for her removal to Lady Catherine’s house.
Elizabeth took a deep breath; she shivered in a moment of uncertainty, wondering what it would be like to live under the roof of the two most disagreeable people in all of England.
She resolved to be polite, but nothing more than just polite, for Mr Darcy deserved no extra effort from her.