Vol 1, Chapter 17 #2
When her father placed her hand on Mr. Collins' arm and kissed her on the cheek, a single tear escaped. Only Elizabeth, who was facing her friend, noticed it drop. The couple stood before Meryton’s minister as he conducted the marriage rites.
When he asked if anyone had cause to object, Charlotte held her breath, hoping for a voice which did not ring out.
She recited her vows in a monotone that proved strength of will and no pleasure, and then, after the final benediction, the register was signed, and Charlotte was Mrs. William Collins.
Elizabeth was one of the few who knew that Charlotte loved Richard, and she suspected that her love was returned.
As much as her heart ached for her friend and for Richard, she had to respect their fortitude and honour in not creating a scandal.
Elizabeth was the last person that Charlotte hugged outside the Church.
“Promise me again that you will come to visit me, Eliza, for I need something I able to look forward to,” Charlotte beseeched her friend. She had not wanted to release Elizabeth from the hug, for when she did, she would have to depart.
“You have my solemn word, Charlotte,” Elizabeth reiterated.
“We need to be on the road, my dove,” Collins intoned, and Elizabeth did not miss the roll of her friend’s eyes at the endearment.
With one last farewell to her family, Charlotte, with her husband, boarded the small, hired carriage that would bear her to her new home.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
The next morning, Richard was sitting in the dining parlour with his cousins nursing a headache from his overindulgence the night before.
He looked at his pocket watch as he had done many times that morning and his shoulders fell lower than any watching had believed they could fall. It was done; she was married.
“Richard, William tells me I will meet the famous Miss Elizabeth when we are at Rosings,” Georgiana stated happily.
It had been heart-warming to see how happy her brother was at the prospect of seeing the lady again and that Miss Elizabeth was willing to hear his apologies.
He was even willing to endure more time in their aunt’s grating presence in order to see the lady.
Georgiana was sure if her brother did not already love the lady, he was well on his way.
“Yes, that is correct.” What Richard did not say was they would also see the new Mrs. Collins. He did not know how he would use that name when addressing Charlotte.
“Do you think Miss Elizabeth will like me?” Georgiana enquired shyly. “Will she not think me a silly girl when or if she is informed of my folly?”
“Gigi, she already knows, and the only one she is angry with is that seducer who is now languishing in Marshalsea, not you. She said the same as all of us when we told you although you should have known better, the fault lies with Wickham and his paramour alone. Knowing about what happened did not change her desire to meet you, if anything it increased it,” Richard assured his ward.
“I told you that did I not, Gigi? She would blame the one that deserves the blame and not you,” Darcy added his assurances.
“How is Andrew’s courtship proceeding?” Georgiana asked, feeling much better after hearing what her cousin and brother said.
“If he had not had to return to personally tend to problems at Hilldale and Snowhaven, I believe he would have proposed to Jane,” Richard opined. “That is another way to say his courtship is proceeding anon.”
“What problems?” Darcy asked.
“A fire at Hilldale. I believe two tenant cottages were severely damaged, but thankfully with no loss of life. At Snowhaven, I believe there are some sundry tenant issues. Andrew volunteered to work with both stewards as he had to be at Hilldale, thus saving my father the journey,” Richard explained.
“Will I get to meet her as well?” Georgiana enthused.
“Sooner or later you will, Gigi,” Darcy confirmed.
“What is reported of their wealth and connections does not give you pause any longer William?” Richard prodded.
“Not at all. Like Andrew, I have more than enough of both. I know how wrong my thoughts were, and I believe I have put the prideful, arrogant man I used to be in the past. I will take every precaution to ensure he will not rear his ugly head again,” Darcy replied with conviction.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Charlotte was happy with her new home. It was built from the same grey stone as the church it was attached to.
There was a dining parlour, sitting room, her husband’s study, and a back parlour—which she chose for her particular use—as the principal rooms on the ground level.
Up the stairs to one side were the master’s chamber, her own was opposite and across the hall.
There were also two small guest chambers.
The first bone of contention was when on gaining her chambers, Charlotte immediately removed the shelves from her closet, so she was able to hang her gowns.
Her husband had protested most vehemently and remonstrated with her on the subject of Lady Catherine’s displeasure.
She had listened calmly, and then as cool as could be asked where, if there were shelves in her closet, her gowns were to be hung.
Her husband had spluttered for but a little while before turning on his heel and leaving her be.
When he had asked when he should come to her, she had claimed her monthly indisposition. She knew she could not put him off for too long, but whatever reprieve from what she was sure would be a distasteful act with her husband, she would take with open arms.
When she was finished breaking her fast, her husband called out for her, sounding somewhat agitated. “Mrs. Collins where are you!”
“Here, Mr. Collins,” Charlotte answered calmly as she stepped into the sitting room.
“Come, my dove, we must not be late for Lady Catherine. She is expecting us, and she cannot countenance those who are not punctual!” Collins worried.
After a walk of no more than fifteen minutes, her husband was huffing and puffing with exertion, and she was privately amused that he was sweating profusely with so little exercise.
As they walked, between his breaths, he still managed to extol the magnificence that was the manor house before them, especially the cost of the glazing and chimney pieces.
The butler, who Charlotte judged was seventy if he was a day, led them ploddingly into her ladyship’s drawing room. Charlotte had never imagined such a gaudy and ostentatious display of vulgar, ill-advised taste could exist let alone she would ever view it.
Seated in the middle of the room was a lady Charlotte judged to be above fifty, with angular features and a severe coiffure, seated on a gilded, throne-like chair on a raised platform.
She had seen her husband bow low before, but not as low as this.
His nose was mere inches from the ground, and Charlotte could not fathom how he did not tip over.
Charlotte curtsied—normally. She was sure her husband would not be happy that she did not genuflect as she would to royalty, but she would not regardless of the remonstration.
“Lady Catherine, I am most humbly appreciative of your beneficence and cond…” The lady cut off his speech.
“Yes, yes, Mr. Collins. Introduce me to your wife at once and stop babbling like a fool.” Charlotte schooled her features so she would not burst into giggles.
“Lady Catherine de Bourgh, my wife, Mrs. Charlotte Collins. Mrs. Collins, the Right Honourable Lady Catherine de Bourgh.” Collins made one of his low bows again, this time fighting to keep upright.
“You look like a pleasant sort of girl who will fit as a parson’s wife, and one who did not think too highly of yourself as to refuse my clergyman as his cousins did.
As my instructions have been followed, I am sure you found the parsonage to your liking, Mrs. Collins!
” Charlotte smiled to herself; for it was a statement, not a question.
Before she could answer, her husband interjected. “I must humbly beg your pardon, your beneficent ladyship. Mrs. Collins removed the shelves from her closet that you had instructed me to place.” He bowed again.
Before her ladyship had a chance to give her lecture, Charlotte spoke.
“My husband must have misunderstood your instructions, your ladyship, as no one with good sense would instruct one to place shelves in a closet leaving no room to hang clothing that needs to be hung up.” It was said with an innocent voice.
“Mr. Collins, how could you have misunderstood me so? Shelves in a closet where clothing should be hung! Do you think me a dimwit that I would advise such a thing?” Lady Catherine bellowed at the cowering clergyman.
Charlotte had just discovered the perfect way to work on her ladyship while preserving the lady’s ego.
Her mother and friends would enjoy her letters most thoroughly after all.
“I…er…yes…no…” Collins did not know how to answer without giving offence to the last person in the world that he wanted to offend.
“You will come for tea in two days,” Lady Catherine ordered and then dismissed the sweating man and his wife with a wave of her hand.
On their walk back to the parsonage, Charlotte was light of step while Collins was reeling, still not understanding what just happened to get him admonished when he was certain he had done all exactly as his patroness had instructed.