Chapter 39
“Collins, what do you want?” Bennet asked curtly as he and Lulu stood on the outside of the criminal’s barred door.
They had decided to hear what the halfwit had to say.
They would, however, not give him much leeway if all he wanted to do was to repeat the lies his father and other Collinses had told him.
“Why have you brought that…” Collins began to question. He closed his mouth when his cousin growled.
“Insult my wife a single time, and we will leave and never return,” Bennet barked. “Now again, and it is the final time I ask, why did you want to see me? As far as I am concerned, there is nothing to be said between us.”
“You are the only one who can save my life. Surely as a good Christian you do not want to see a close relation put to death,” Collins begged.
“Why would I not? Not only did you attempt to have my beloved wife murdered to stop me from fathering a son, but you admitted that I was your next target so you could recover ‘that which was stolen from the Collins line’. That was after you were shown the land register, which proves that a Bennet has held Longbourn since the estate was granted to us, and never a Collins,” Bennet bit back.
“Do not dare raise Christian values when you have none and have been excommunicated. We are all called to forgive those trespasses against us, and one day when the anger fades, I will forgive you, but that forgiveness, even if I granted it now, would not stop justice being done.” Bennet paused as he thought of something.
“We know that your rampant stupidity led to your funds being stolen. I am sure you thought that if you murdered me, you would control my daughters and their dowries. My will would have precluded you from doing so, and you would not have touched one penny of their dowries of thirty thousand pounds each. By the by, Netherfield Park is mine as well. Also, when you swing, whether we are blessed with a son or not, the entail ends, as there are no more males in the family line.”
Collins’s mouth fell open. How could his cousin be so wealthy? If only he could get out and execute his plan. “But y-you m-must s-save m-m-m-me,” Collins cried.
“Why would my husband or I do that when even now you still hold onto the lies you were told as though they are fact?” Louisa enquired. “You are driven by ignorance, pride, and avarice. There is nothing here to save.”
“This is a discussion for men, not a woman who has been marked by…” Before Collins finished the sentence, the Bennets were gone, and with them his last hope for saving his life.
He sat on the floor and snivelled. Not only had the Bennets stolen Longbourn from the Collins line, but now, all this wealth and Netherfield Park as well.
For the time remaining in the Meryton gaol, Collins would rant and rave about all the perceived crimes perpetrated against him and his line by the Bennets.
No one listened to him, and other than sliding his meals, consisting mainly of gruel, through the space in the door, no one had contact with him, especially as the foul odour only got worse every hour.
The Bennets never returned, no matter how many times he demanded they be summoned to come see him.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Collins was moved to the gaol cells located below the court in Hertford on the Friday before he was to stand trial.
Before he had been shackled to the bed of the donkey cart which would convey him, he had again begged the magistrate for mercy.
The knight had told him the Bennets were the only ones who could do so.
It was at that moment that Collins finally realised that his life would soon be over.
After Collins’s departure, the constable in Meryton was heard grumbling about how he now had to remove the stench from the cell the prisoner had occupied.
The trial of William Clem Collins was the first one called that Monday morning. His Lordship had been warned of the foul odour from the accused, and he, like others in the court, had vinaigrettes close by their noses.
The Lord Judge received the confession, the letter which the accused had owned he had written and the affidavits from some of those in Meryton and the magistrate of Hatfield.
After less than a half hour, the judge charged the jury to deliberate.
They were out of the courtroom for only a few minutes before returning with a unanimous verdict of guilty.
His Lordship nodded to a clerk who handed him the black cap, which he placed on the top of his powdered wig. As the accused had been convicted of two counts of attempted murder, the Lord Judge handed down a sentence of death by hanging.
At first light the next morning, on the final Tuesday of November, the condemned man was pulled, pushed, and carried to the gallows.
It took six large men to get the snivelling, crying, moaning, obese man up the stairs.
The hangman had ensured an extra sturdy rope was to be used, given that the prisoner weighed more than twenty stone.
Thanks to his excommunication, Collins was not attended by a clergyman to give him last rites. In his last seconds of life after the rope and hood had been put in place, Collins wondered if he had lost his life over a lie.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
With the trial over and the sentence carried out, Colonel Forster administered the forty lashes to former-lieutenant Wickham. As soon as Mr Jones determined his back was sufficiently healed, Wickham would begin his odyssey.
He would be taken to Portsmouth where his chest would be branded and then be placed on a ship bound for Van Diemen’s land.
All of Wickham’s attempts to gain clemency failed.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
With Mr Pierce’s son, daughter, and their families, as well as the Bennets, Bingley, and the rest of the residents of Netherfield Park as witnesses, Hildebrand Bingley resigned her maiden name for that of Pierce.
The wedding occurred on Saturday, the final day of November.
They were married by the rector of St Alfred’s who came to his friend’s church to perform the service.
A common licence was used, as there was not enough time for the banns to be read.
In a reversal of normal roles, the night before the wedding it had been Louisa who had given her most beloved aunt the pre-wedding talk. She had spoken in generalities, never referring to anything between herself and Thomas.
Hildebrand had gone from being only an aunt to being a stepmother, a stepmother-in-law, and a step-grandmama.
She knew she was past having her own children, but that did not stop her from getting very close to her new family.
The wedding breakfast was held at Longbourn.
Given the proximity to Christmastide, the newlyweds would defer their honeymoon until the spring, when they intended to visit Scarborough so Hildebrand could introduce Christopher to her extended family who lived there.
She still owned her house in the city, so once they arrived, that is where they would reside for the month they intended to be there.
Pierce gained nieces and nephews. When the three Bennet sisters married, he would gain more.
It was a little strange for him that his patron’s daughters whom his Hildebrand considered nieces, had already become his nieces, and even stranger still, Bennet was married to his new niece, making him his patron’s uncle.
He supposed it was less confusing than it would be when his Bingley nephew married Jane Bennet and became both a nephew-in-law and son-in-law to Bennet.
With Hildebrand’s marriage, Charles was left without a hostess. That conundrum was easily solved as Elaine, Marie, and Anne all volunteered for the role as they all planned to remain until the triple wedding. Marie would be the hostess, but she had two who could step in if needed.
Before she fell asleep the night of her wedding, Hildebrand decided she was not at all sorry she would not leave the mortal world as a maiden.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
With each passing day in December, the three engaged Bennet sisters became more excited about the approaching weddings.
During the first week of the month, there was a journey to London. Aside from shopping—gowns and dresses were ordered from Madame Chambourg, Lady Matlock’s modiste—to add to their trousseaus, the three brides-to-be also visited the London house she and her husband-to-be would occupy when in Town.
Elizabeth had been very impressed with Darcy House, not because of its size or value, but rather, she could see it was a home and not one built to impress but to be lived in.
She had heartily approved of the understated elegant design of both the décor and the furnishings.
The only change she had asked for was for the paper in the mistress’s chambers to be changed.
She preferred more muted tones than the pink and peach the late Lady Anne had chosen for herself.
Jane had toured Bingley House in Curzon Street. The only chamber she asked to be completely made over was the one Miss Caroline Bingley used to occupy. Everything within was gaudy and ostentatious and did not fit Jane’s ideas for decorating in the least.
The third house viewed was the former de Bourgh House, now renamed Fitzwilliam House.
Although Fitzwilliam and Mary had both attempted to demur, Anne had insisted that it was a wedding present.
She had accepted a courtship with Ian Medford, who owned his own house in London.
It was not in as fashionable an area as her house on Berkeley Square but knowing that her suitor would not want to give up the house he had inherited from his mother, Anne had decided that a second house was not needed and had made it a wedding present to Mary and Richard.
When she had asked them if they were to insult her and reject her gift, as Anne had known they would, Mary and Richard relented.