Chapter 14
Mr. Collins walked over to the stables, glancing appreciatively at the sky above him. It was a cold morning, but the sky was blue with but a few fluffy clouds. It was a perfect day to inspect the estate that would be his own when his cousin passed through heaven’s gates.
“I have Columbine ready for you, sir,” the stable boy, Clem, informed the clergyman respectfully, gesturing to the white horse waiting patiently in front of the building.
Mr. Collins eyed the great beast cautiously. He knew how to ride, a little. As a youth, he had spent several summers with a distant cousin on his mother’s side, and there had been horses on their small farm. They were not young, sprightly horses, and tended toward the smaller side, but they were horses. So he could ride, but this particular horse was very tall. He felt quite intimidated. He was not a great horseman and he knew it. But how could he decline the honor of riding such a gigantic animal without losing face?
“Is this Miss Elizabeth’s horse?” he inquired carefully.
The stable boy shifted nervously and shook his head, “No, sir. Miss Elizabeth usually rides Daisy.”
“Daisy?”
“In the second stall, sir.”
Mr. Collins strode over to peer at Daisy hopefully. Based on the name, the horse was almost certainly a female, and females were less volatile than males, were they not? Furthermore, compared to Columbine, Daisy was a dainty creature. Surely she was no threat if such as Miss Elizabeth could ride her.
“I will ride Daisy,” he announced. “Saddle her up.”
Clem’s eyes widened in shock, “But sir, Daisy is Miss Elizabeth’s horse and she is rather dang …”
“Silence, boy!” the clergyman interrupted imperiously. “I will be master of this estate when Mr. Bennet dies, all will obey me. I have given you an order!”
Clem opened his mouth and then closed it helplessly. He had not previously interacted with Mr. Collins but he had heard that the heir to Longbourn was, not to put it too finely, pig headed.
“Yes, sir.”
/
“Mr. Collins?” Mr. Gregory inquired in wonder, urging his own pony forward to greet the man who would inherit the estate.
“Mr. Gregory,” the clergyman responded. “Good morning.”
“Good morning,” the steward of Longbourn returned, his gaze fixed on the filly shifting uneasily under Mr. Collins’s heavy form. “Is Columbine injured, sir?”
Collins blinked in confusion, “Columbine?”
“The white gelding. I expected you to ride him today.”
“I prefer this animal,” Collins replied loftily.
“But Mr. Collins …”
“I suggest you hold your tongue, Mr. Gregory,” Collins interpolated angrily. “If Mr. Bennet passes on to his reward soon, which seems likely based on his poor health, you will find me as your master. I will ride the horse I wish to ride. Is that clear?”
The steward winced, “But sir, Daisy is quite …”
“Silence!”
/
“Miss Elizabeth, Miss Elizabeth!”
Elizabeth, who had been studying the financial ledgers in the study, leaped to her feet, alarmed at the distress on the young maid’s face.
“Is it my father?” she demanded fearfully.
“No, miss, no! It is Mr. Collins! Mr. Gregory just raced back on his horse to say that Mr. Collins has taken a fall. He is hurt, Miss!”
Elizabeth rushed out of the house with Mary and Kitty, who had been attracted by the noise, at her heels. They found the stable yard a maelstrom of confusion, with Mr. Gregory at the center of it all.
“Mr. Gregory!” Elizabeth cried out.
“Miss Elizabeth! I am sorry, Miss Elizabeth! Mr. Collins insisted that he ride Daisy …”
“What!?”
“Yes, and of course she threw him. I had to leave him to get help, but I must return immediately. Would you send word to Mr. Jones that his services are required? I will have several of the lads assist in placing Mr. Collins on Buttercup and we will bring him back as soon as possible.”
“How is Daisy?” Kitty asked worriedly.
“I think she is well enough, Miss Kitty, but I cannot be sure.”
Elizabeth, who had been struck dumb at the very idea of the moronic parson mounting a horse as fractious as Daisy, shook herself, “We will deal with the mare after we care for Mr. Collins. Return to him, and Buttercup will be along shortly with several stout men.”
“Thank you, Miss Elizabeth.”
/
“Well, Mr. Jones, how is Mr. Collins?” Mrs. Bennet asked peevishly, rising from her chair in the sitting room. “Really, Mr. Collins has no compassion on my nerves at all. Is it not enough that he has forced his way into my home and irritated my husband? Now must we wait on him hand and foot while he recovers from falling off a horse?”
The apothecary hesitated a moment before speaking, “Perhaps you should sit down, Mrs. Bennet.”
Jane, who had been working on some needlepoint, shot a worried look at Elizabeth, “Is Mr. Collins seriously hurt, sir?”
Jones sat down with a deep sigh, “I am afraid that he is, Miss Bennet. Indeed, I do not believe he will survive his injuries.”
Elizabeth and Mrs. Bennet gasped and Jane’s eyes filled with horrified tears, “He is dying? How can that be?”
“He hit his head on a rock when he fell, and I believe he fractured his skull. If I may say so, Miss Elizabeth ... Mrs. Bennet, you would be wise to send for a physician from London. Perhaps there is something that can be done for the man of which I am unaware.”
“Why should we send to London?” the nominal lady of the house demanded irritably. “Naturally I am sorry for the poor man, but he was the one foolish enough to fall off a horse. Besides, you are very skilled. Even Mr. Darcy, who is a haughty fellow, declares you to be an excellent medical practitioner.”
“I believe that it would be wise to summon a physician because Mr. Collins is the heir to Longbourn, and he fell off your horse, Miss Elizabeth. I am certain that you would wish it to be generally known that everything was done to succor him.”
Elizabeth winced at these words, “You are entirely correct, Mr. Jones. Thank you.”
/
“Darcy!”
The master of Pemberley had been hiding in his sitting room pouring over the poem The Lady of the Lake , which he had borrowed from Mr. Bennet. He jerked in surprise as his friend shot impetuously through the door.
“Bingley?” he demanded in surprise and some alarm. “What is it?”
“Mr. Collins, your aunt’s parson, the heir to Longbourn, well, the poor fellow took a toss off a horse and is badly injured. Miss Elizabeth just wrote asking if we had any advice on a physician in London to summon. I do not really. Do you? I am also thinking I could go over and comfort Miss... all of them. It must be quite upsetting …”
“He fell off a horse? How?” Darcy demanded, and then shook his head. “That hardly matters, does it? Yes, I have an excellent physician and would be glad to send for him immediately if you like.”
“Please do!”
/
“Mr. Jones has done everything possible, Mrs. Bennet,” Doctor Lee said gravely. “Mr. Collins is unconscious and fading fast. I do not think he will last the night.”
There was a gasp from the lady of the house and Jane cried out in dismay, “Oh, Doctor, are you certain?”
“I fear so,” the doctor responded. “There is little to be done with a major skull injury like this. I have given Mr. Collins some laudanum so that he will not suffer, though I believe at this point, he is not aware of anything.”
Elizabeth, who was pale with distress, rose to her feet, “Doctor Lee, thank you very much for coming so quickly. I hope you will accept a bedchamber here at Longbourn so that you are not required to ride back to London in the dark.”
“Miss Elizabeth,” Bingley interpolated from his place next to Jane, “I have already invited the doctor to spend the night at Netherfield. You have enough on your shoulders with Mr. Collins’s injury, though perhaps you wish to stay to watch over your patient, Doctor?”
“No, Mr. Jones is here and can oversee the man’s final moments. I promise you it will not be much longer. I am very sorry I was not able to do more.”
“We are grateful for your expertise,” Elizabeth assured him. “It is a comfort to us all that everything that could be done, was done.”