Chapter 5
“Make your choice wisely and do not marry to disoblige your relations.”
-Lady Catherine de Bourgh
Ileft the others in the sitting room while I hurried to catch Lady Catherine’s lady’s maid Bertram, who had been employed for a long time and was in all ways Lady Catherine’s dogged enforcer.
“Is it possible the acrostic necklace was misplaced somewhere?” I asked delicately.
Bertram was a tall, sour-looking woman in her early 50s, with a head of harsh gray hair tightly pulled back from her face, a gimlet eye, and a tendency to quote the Bible like it was a rock she wanted to throw at you.
“Certainly not,” she said. “All of her rooms have been searched from Top to Bottom. I should hope, Mrs. Collins, that I know whether a necklace is stolen or has been Merely Misplaced.”
“Certainly,” I agreed, not put out by her. “Who do you think could have gotten in Lady Catherine’s rooms? Who had access to them?”
“The devil,” she said, “prowls around like a roaring lion, looking for someone to devour, as the Apostle Peter said.”
I sought for a response to this, but did not come up with anything.
“When did you last see the necklace?” I asked.
“That very morning!” she boomed indignantly. “It had just come back from the cleaners. Lady Catherine was going to wear the symbol of her dear Sir Lewis at Christmas.”
The rest of the interview was equally fruitless and I left with Bertram’s parting words ringing in my ears, “I’m not one to speak poorly of the Quality, but I think we are nursing a serpent in our bosoms. Though their speech is charming, do not believe them, for seven abominations fill their hearts. ”
I didn’t know which one of them was a serpent in our bosoms, but I had to admit it was a distinct possibility.
I hurried down the stairs, but my steps stilled as I heard the voices of Lady Catherine and Mr. Collins in the smaller sitting-room, which she always invited him to when she wanted to give him advice without distractions.
“I have given Mrs. Collins a task to do,” Lady Catherine said in her sharp way. “How is she proceeding with it?”
“Very well,” my husband replied promptly.
There was silence for a moment, then Lady Catherine said, “It is too bad you could not have gotten Jane or Lizzy Bennet to marry you. Did you do everything I said? Did you mention my name frequently? Bring up the superiority of Rosings? It should have been a powerful appeal.”
There was a second’s silence, and I felt my stomach sinking, although I told myself firmly that of course my husband would prefer the divine Bennet sisters.
“They are very agreeable women, to be sure,” Mr. Collins said. “But I prefer my wife.”
“Did you use the strategies I advised you on?” Lady Catherine barked again. “Did you inform them of the extensive grounds of Rosings, that it is available to be walked in every day of the week?”
“I did,” said my husband, and his voice was much firmer than it usually was when talking to Lady Catherine. “My attempts were unavailing. Nevertheless, I much prefer my Charlotte, and I must beg of you not to mention the matter to me again.”
I heard a noise like his big body was rising from the chair, and I scuttled off down the hallway, terrified of getting caught, and wondering what my husband’s words might mean. He almost never disagreed with Lady Catherine.