Chapter 18 #2
“How can anyone think to denigrate one as well-behaved and pleasant as Miss Bennet?” the Duchess of Hertfordshire added.
“I wonder if she knows that the letter full of lies she sent to Jane is in Mr Darcy’s hands.
Our friend Elaine has let it be known that the shrewish harpy is never to be received in polite society again.
She had best leave England to escape the ignominy she has earned herself.
Now run along, Miss Bungles, before you are cut by more people,” Lady Edith said while never looking at the horrified woman. She and her friends moved off.
Louisa Hurst told her footman to get her sister into the carriage. As that was done, Mrs Hurst saw all those inside of Gunter’s turn their backs on Caroline; Miss Grantley and other so-called friends among them. As soon as the door was closed, they were on their way back to Hurst House.
“What… I do not know… How could they…?” Miss Bingley mumbled as they put distance between them and her humiliation.
“Why did you drag me out today when you knew you had been cut the last time?” Mrs Hurst demanded.
“And did I not tell you that the lies you wrote to Jane Bennet would come back and haunt you? No wonder you are not admitted to Darcy House any longer.” She paused for a few moments.
“Charles warned you about overstepping, but no, you knew better than everyone,” Mrs Hurst ground out.
Her fear of Caroline had dissipated. “You are irrevocably ruined! Lady Holder has the right of it; you need to leave England. Hurst and I will go to Winsdale and wait for the furore you have created to die down. As you know, you are not allowed there, thanks to your behaviour towards the senior Hursts, the one and only time you were there. Your choices are to set up your own establishment or follow the countess’s suggestion. ”
Miss Bingley could not fathom how her whole world had collapsed around her. She cursed the day she had ever heard of Netherfield Park, Meryton, and most especially of all, anyone named Bennet.
Through it all, she finally accepted she would need to leave England.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
On hearing the news that Miss de Bourgh had gone to her final reward, after wailing and lamenting the loss of the Rose of Kent, as he kept calling her no matter how ill she had been, Collins had ordered his household into full mourning.
Elizabeth had explained that she had no black dresses, nor would she agree to any of hers being dyed.
However, she told Mr Collins that if he wanted to purchase a mourning dress for her, she would wear it.
As she had known it would, as soon as the prospect of spending money was raised, Mr Collins said her lavender-coloured gown would suit for when they went to pay their respects to Lady Catherine and her family.
Even though Mr Collins was the rector of the Hunsford parish, it amused Elizabeth how her cousin took it as a personal compliment that he was the one to conduct the funeral service at St Cuthbert’s and the service next to the de Bourgh crypt where the late Miss de Bourgh would be interred.
During the service at the church and the interment, Charlotte, Elizabeth, and Maria were at the mansion to condole with the ladies. Lady Catherine looked greatly altered, which was to be expected due to losing a child.
After conveying her sympathies to Ladies Matlock and Catherine, Elizabeth was introduced to a blonde girl who was a little taller than herself.
She should not have been surprised that the description of Miss Darcy which had come from Mr Wickham’s forked tongue was nothing close to reality.
She was a shy, not at all proud, and diffident young lady.
Elizabeth was seated close enough to hear Lady Matlock and Lady Catherine speaking. She was not trying to eavesdrop, but Lady Catherine refused to lower her voice.
“Elaine, as there is no heir, why can I not remain here as mistress?” Lady Catherine demanded.
“Catherine, even had Reggie not told you they know where to find the descendant of Sir Lewis’s great-aunt, the entail disqualified you from remaining here, as you are not a de Bourgh by blood,” Lady Elaine replied in lowered tones.
“But she married far below what her family approved of; surely her line is excluded!” Lady Catherine exclaimed.
“You have been told that argument is spurious. The heir is descended from a de Bourgh; therefore, it matters not what their social standing is, be they noble or tradesman,” Lady Elaine refuted.
“While we are accepting condolence calls for Anne’s passing, this is neither the time nor the place for such a discussion. ”
Lady Catherine looked away with a sniff.
It was hard enough to lose her daughter, and now, her home would be taken from her.
She was still smarting from Fitzwilliam telling her that he knew the truth of her claims regarding the wedding she had tried to force between him and Anne.
If only Anne had been healthy; Catherine was sure she would have succeeded.
Thankfully, Lady Catherine desisted, so Elizabeth was able to turn to Miss Darcy. “I met the Bingleys near my home in Hertfordshire. They claimed an acquaintance with you, Miss Darcy. Miss Bingley especially sang praises about your prowess on the pianoforte.”
“I-I do like to play, and I practise for hours each day. However, as I am not out, my connection to Miss Bingley was slight,” Anna Darcy revealed. “Also, as I am too shy to play in front of those not in the immediate family, I do not know how Miss Bingley knows how well I play.”
There was no mistaking how Miss Darcy’s eyes dropped as if expecting censure for saying something wrong.
Elizabeth decided to put the girl at ease.
“I am out, and I did not enjoy Mrs Hurst’s and Miss Bingley’s company any more than you.
I was fortunate, as they never fawned over me, as I am sure they have over you. ”
Anna smiled a little. “You are correct, Miss Bennet. Miss Bingley does do that and always hints that I will marry her brother,” she revealed. “William told me he heard you play and that your playing delighted him. He said you play very well.”
Neither noticed that the men had returned. Darcy stood watching in awe as Miss Bennet put his sister at ease. He was close enough to hear them. What a sister she would have been to Anna had he not revolted her with his improper pride and rudeness.
“Your brother was having fun for his own reasons because, unlike you, I do not practise nearly as much as I should do,” Elizabeth teased.
“Oh, no! William always tells the absolute truth,” Anna insisted.
Knowing that had not been true for a few months, Darcy felt shame.
He forced himself to speak evenly. “Anna, I said ‘quite well’, not ‘very well’. I did say that I found much enjoyment in Miss Bennet’s playing because of the feeling she infuses into it,” he said as he stepped forward.
He was watching Miss Bennet to make sure he did not discomfort her.
Elizabeth should not have been surprised Mr Darcy was there. She found that she did not feel discomposed by his presence. Mr Darcy looked greatly altered. She did not see an air of pride about him any longer, and he had just teased her.
“Quite well is acceptable. I will not accuse you of perjuring yourself,” Elizabeth responded. “When did you arrive, Mr Darcy?”
“The day Anne went to her final reward. I believe she felt at peace because I told her that one with de Bourgh blood had been located. She had not been sanguine with the possibility that her father’s estate would devolve to the Crown,” Darcy related.
It was not too much later, after his wife prompted Mr Collins that it was time to depart, that the parsonage party took its leave.
As she walked back to the parsonage, Elizabeth was flabbergasted because for the first time ever, she had felt comfortable in Mr Darcy’s company.
If she saw him again, she was determined to apologise for allowing her pique to take over in the way she spoke to him.
The refusal she knew was right, but she could not think about the way she had behaved that night without mortification.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
On their return from Rosings Park, Collins saw an express on his desk.
Per his instructions when he was not home, all post was to be placed there.
He saw from the return direction it was from a Mr Phillips in Meryton.
He seemed to remember that Mrs Bennet’s sister was married to a man by that name, but why would the man be writing to him?
Collins sat down and opened the epistle.
There was some official document from the Court of Chancery.
Was he to receive his birthright now before Mr Bennet was called home?
He was almost ebullient as he read Mr Phillips’s letter.
Soon enough he was calling out, “No! This cannot be! They are stealing from me!” Then he read the document from the court which confirmed what the solicitor had written.
He felt a searing pain in his upper left arm and then the same in his chest. He clutched at the pain, trying to pull it out of his body, but it only intensified.
Those seated in the back parlour heard Mr Collins yelling out about something followed by a loud crash. Charlotte stood and made her way to her husband’s study. He was lying on the floor, on the flat of his back; one hand was on his chest, and his eyes were wide open and unseeing.
Keeping as calm as she could, Charlotte picked up the letter from Mr Phillips.
After she read it, she could not decide if her corpulent husband’s constant overindulging any time he could eat had ended his life, the shock of discovering no Collins was ever in line to inherit Longbourn, or a combination thereof.
She closed his eyelids and walked out of his study to her parlour.
“Charlotte, what was that noise?” Elizabeth asked worriedly. Her friend looked as if she was shocked.
“I am afraid my husband is no more,” Charlotte said before she sat.
Maria began to cry, not because she felt anything for Mr Collins but out of worry. Charlotte just sat staring ahead. Elizabeth took charge. She sent the manservant to the manor house to request the doctor attend them and to inform the butler what had occurred.
The physician confirmed what was already known. Mr Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam began to assist as was needed and did what was required to be done. The undertaker was summoned, and the body removed.
All the while, Charlotte sat as she was. Only after Elizabeth insisted her friend drink heavily sugared tea did Charlotte show emotion, but none of it was sadness.