Vol 2, Chapter 3
“Cousin Elizabeth! What are you wearing?” Collins was horrified. His cousin was wearing a dress that seemed to be of far better quality than those his patroness wore.
“Did you not tell me to wear the best gown I brought with me, Mr. Collins?” Elizabeth asked innocently.
“Mr. Collins, you know how much Lady Catherine hates tardiness, and if you send Eliza up to change now, we will be late, which will lead to your patroness being most displeased with you,” Charlotte redirected her husband’s attention.
“You are of course correct, my dove, let us depart forthwith,” Collins led the charge towards the front door as his wife and his cousin donned their outerwear and followed him.
It was not long before they caught up with him, as he was huffing and puffing, unable to maintain his initial pace.
Elizabeth pretended not to notice sweat was dripping off the hapless man and was impressed that Charlotte did the same.
Between gasping for breath, he attempted to deliver a dissertation on the many wonders of Rosings Park and its mistress.
After handing their outerwear to a footman, the ancient butler showed the guests into the drawing room. The first thing Charlotte noticed was the absence of Lady Catherine’s throne, and the second was that the lady seemed to be in high dudgeon over the eroding of her perceived power.
Collins introduced his cousin and began to apologise for her dress.
“Mr. Collins, are you insensible?” Miss de Bourgh asked, silencing the silly man mid-sentence.
“Elizabeth is dressed perfectly; it is not her fault my mother has refused to update the style of our dresses for some years now. Please allow me to be the judge of my guests mode of dress or anything else!” Seeing her mother was about to interject, Anne directed a quelling look at the lady, and the protest withered before it was spoken.
A sharp look from his wife silenced Collins on the subject as well.
Collins was having a hard time grasping what was happening around him.
He could not understand how no one venerated his patroness as he did, how it could be that her daughter was usurping Lady Catherine’s power, and how Lady Catherine was seemingly unable to stop it.
Rather than commanding the room with her wise pronouncements, his patroness was sitting subdued in a way he had never seen before.
The butler announced dinner and Mr. Darcy offered his arm to Elizabeth, which she accepted without hesitation.
Richard escorted his cousin and aunt, one on each arm, while Collins followed his wife and Miss Darcy, who seemed to find something they needed to discuss as he approached them to offer his services to escort them into dinner.
As soon as they sat, Lady Catherine gained her voice and started to quiz her parson’s cousin, for she had not missed the way her nephew looked at the lowborn woman.
Her dream of a match between him and her daughter had been squelched.
Although the match was apparently dead, she would not allow him to throw himself away on some floozy with no wealth or connections.
Lady Catherine opened her attempt to cow the country miss, certain in this she would have success, for Mr. Collins had assured her these Bennets were uneducated and uncouth.
“My rector informs me that your mother is the daughter of a country solicitor.” Said rector nodded even as he shovelled large pieces of roast beef into his mouth.
“I am afraid Mr. Collins is misinformed, your ladyship,” Elizabeth responded pleasantly. She noticed Anne was going to warn her mother off, but her friend stopped when Elizabeth gave her a slight shake of her head.
“What is the meaning of this? Mr. Collins, did you lie to me?” Lady Catherine demanded.
“I would never do such, your beneficence,” Collins managed, sending only a little of his food spraying on the tablecloth in front of him.
“My answer was, Lady Catherine, that my cousin was misinformed, not that he lied. Like many,” Elizabeth looked from her to Darcy at whom she smiled. “Mr. Collins made an assumption, and never bothered to ask the pertinent questions.”
“Stop speaking in riddles girl!” Lady Catherine demanded.
Before Elizabeth could answer, Anne decided to join the fray. “Mama, did you know you will be aunt to Elizabeth’s sister soon?”
“Anne, of what nonsense do you speak? Neither Fitzwilliam or Richard is betrothed, and they would not connect themselves to one with what Mr. Collins told me is less than a three-thousand-pound dowry!”
“I am afraid Anne is correct. Andrew is, in fact, betrothed to Miss Jane Bennet, who has a dowry many times larger than the amount Mr. Collins reported,” Richard informed his aunt.
“What?” Both Collins and his patroness exclaimed simultaneously.
“To which part, Aunt?” Darcy asked.
“How much does your sister have?” Lady Catherine demanded.
“As I am sure you are aware, it is vulgar to discuss such things in polite company,” Elizabeth demurred.
“I am his nearest relation, it is my right to know his concerns,” Lady Catherine blustered.
“My parents will be interested to know that you are Andrew's nearest relation, Aunt,” Richard stated.
The more upset his patroness became, the more agitated Mr. Collins became on her behalf, though unlike her, he sought solace by adding more to his fork as he considered how best to assist her.
“How can my brother allow his son to marry one with no connections other than in trade?” Lady Catherine demanded indignantly.
“My sister has the same connections as I do, as my mother accepts her as her own, as do our grandparents, aunts, and uncles,” Elizabeth stated evenly.
“What are you going on about? Oh, that is correct—you mentioned something about your sister’s mother,” Lady Catherine remembered, an off-hand wave proving she believed them as insignificant.
“Yes, my sister’s mother was taken from her days after Jane was born.
My father married my mother, the natural mother of myself and my younger siblings, two years later.
As I said, Jane is accepted as a daughter in all ways by Mama.
You may have heard of her before she wed my papa, Lady Priscilla De Melville,” Elizabeth related calmly, schooling her amusement as she watched Lady Catherine’s eye’s bulge.
“Y-your g-grandparents are the Earl and Countess…” Lady Catherine’s jaw clamped shut, unable to even say it.
“Of Jersey, I think you were trying to say, Mama,” Anne added for her mother. “Which would make her one aunt and uncle a marchioness and marquess, and the others a mere viscount and viscountess.”
Collins could not believe that he, and even worse, his patroness, had been taken for fools. Forgetting he had a mouth full of food, he took a deep breath so he could make his displeasure known, except no sound came out as he drew the food into his windpipe.
No one was looking at him, and so none of the diners were aware there was a problem until they heard his head slam onto the table followed by his corpulent body tipping his chair over as he crashed to the floor.
Richard was first out of his chair and also closest to Collins. The rest of the diners stared for a moment and then everyone started moving until Richard, who had been trying to find a pulse or any sign of breathing, shook his head.
“Anne, please take the ladies with you to the drawing room and have the butler send for the doctor and the magistrate,” Darcy urged.
“Do I need to remain?” Mrs. Collins asked.
Richard walked up to Charlotte and looked her in the eye. “There is nothing that can be done, Charlotte. He is gone.”
Charlotte gave him a small smile of relief even as she nodded and followed the ladies to the drawing room. As she walked in, she heard Lady Catherine say, “I will have to appoint…”
“Under no circumstances will you be appointing another clergyman to the living at Hunsford, Mother. You have about as much theological knowledge as an uneducated child, so your days of writing ridiculous sermons about the distinction of rank are over! If you would like to move to the dower house and live on one hundred pounds a year, just mention once more you that will appoint another one of your sycophants to the position! It is time for Uncle Reggie to be invited to Rosings. I will write to him now,” Anne rounded on her mother angrily.
It was partly her callous disregard for the man lying dead in the dining parlour, and partly that her mother still tried to challenge her authority at every turn which had angered her much, but she would handle this.
“There is no need to bother my brother, Anne.” Lady Catherine showed fear for the first time. She was well aware that her brother, as executor of the Sir Lewis’s will, could make any decision he saw fit and there was naught she could do about it.
“I am requesting Uncle Reggie’s presence, Mother.
One more word, and you will find yourself barred from Rosings the day I turn five and twenty.
Just in case you would consider it, know my will is filed with my solicitor.
If I die or am incapacitated, Richard will inherit, and we both know he would not be manipulated by you,” Anne challenged her mother to gainsay her again.
As much as Lady Catherine liked to have control of everything, she would never harm her own daughter, and the fact Anne thought it a possibility shook her to the core.
As the shock reverberated throughout her being, Lady Catherine truly looked at her daughter.
Anne saw something she could not ever remember seeing—a look of deep regret and tears in her mother’s eyes.
“I would never harm you, Anne. I am mortified I have acted in a way that leads you to believe I am capable of such a despicable act. I love you, Anne. Go, write to my brother,” Lady Catherine replied softly.