Beginning, Next Section
Part 1
William Collins thought life as a country parson would be an excellent cover for his more exciting other life as a dashing rescuer of people robbed by highwaymen. Lately, the authorities had been rather alert because he had had to dispose of a few crooks in the course of action, and he had not been able to rescue as many people as he used to. That was why he was happy to obtain the Hunsford living that was under the patronage of Lady Catherine De Bourgh. He did not care much for Her Ladyship -- the woman was a terribly authoritative busybody -- and he had never had much interest in the church in the first place, but he had been forced to enter the profession.
Mr. Collins was very careful not to mix his two lives and therefore took great pains to create a great difference in appearance between them. As the Reverend Mr. Collins he usually wore padded shirts and jackets to give the impression of flabbiness, and these thick layers also caused him to sweat a great deal. His hair was usually greasy, unless he was needed -- on such an occasion he did wash it. When he went out in the night, he usually wore black.
He was very attentive to Lady Catherine, knowing it was in his own interest to do so, and he usually complied with all of her wishes. All except one. The woman had gotten it into her head that her parson was of an excellent age and situation in life to marry, which would provide her with another loyal subject in whose life she could meddle. She had found out that Collins had an estate in Hertfordshire entailed upon him, and having her own daughter's wishfully thought engagement to her nephew Mr. Darcy in mind, she considered it to be an excellent and magnanimous idea if Mr. Collins were to marry one of the five female cousins he claimed to possess.
Now this was, understandably, not at all to William Collins' liking. Not only did he think it quite repulsive to marry a first cousin, but also would a wife be a great liability for someone in his situation. He would not be able to keep up the pretense of being an oily toad to a wife, unless she were half-witted, but the thought of procreating something with a half-witted wife was just as repulsive to him as marrying a cousin. Therefore he had to ensure that his cousins at Longbourn would not like him too much.
Part 2
Posted on Friday, 25-Sep-98
Lady Catherine had ordered Mr. Collins to write a letter, and he had done so. She then asked him to show it to her, so she could give her good advice on the matter. Naturally, she had found fault with some of his passages, and this is what he sent off after Lady Catherine's revisions:
Hunsford, near Westerham, Kent,
15th October.DEAR SIR,
THE disagreement subsisting between yourself and my late honoured father always gave me much uneasiness, and since I have had the misfortune to lose him I have frequently wished to heal the breach; but for some time I was kept back by my own doubts, fearing lest it might seem disrespectful to his memory for me to be on good terms with any one with whom it had always pleased him to be at variance. My mind however is now made up on the subject, for having received ordination at Easter, I have been so fortunate as to be distinguished by the patronage of the Right Honourable Lady Catherine de Bourgh, widow of Sir Lewis de Bourgh, whose bounty and beneficence has preferred me to the valuable rectory of this parish, where it shall be my earnest endeavour to demean myself with grateful respect towards her Ladyship, and be ever ready to perform those rites and ceremonies which are instituted by the Church of England. As a clergyman, moreover, I feel it my duty to promote and establish the blessing of peace in all families within the reach of my influence; and on these grounds I flatter myself that my present overtures of good-will are highly commendable, and that the circumstance of my being next in the entail of Longbourn estate will be kindly overlooked on your side, and not lead you to reject the offered olive branch. I cannot be otherwise than concerned at being the means of injuring your amiable daughters, and beg leave to apologise for it, as well as to assure you of my readiness to make them every possible amends, -- but of this hereafter. If you should have no objection to receive me into your house, I propose myself the satisfaction of waiting on you and your family, Monday, November 18th, by four o'clock, and shall probably trespass on your hospitality till the Saturday se'nnight following, which I can do without any inconvenience, as Lady Catherine is far from objecting to my occasional absence on a Sunday, provided that some other clergyman is engaged to do the duty of the day. I remain, dear sir, with respectful compliments to your lady and daughters, your well-wisher and friend,
WILLIAM COLLINS.
For his own part, he hoped it would be enough to put his relatives off. Lady Catherine, great authority on traveling as she was, had informed him that he would arrive at Longbourn at exactly four o'clock, and she had also told him to stay away for a week, so he would have ample time to court one of his cousins. He dearly hoped his cousins were not as stupid as that. For some time he did not receive a reply, and hoped that his relatives had no wish of seeing him. At last, he received a short reply from Mr. Bennet stating that he would be most welcome.
Dressed in black, he sat silently on his horse at a particular point that was very popular with highwaymen, and he pondered the situation. He could not do anything in Hertfordshire -- that would be too obvious. No, he had to wait until he got back. While he was thinking, a carriage approached and he sat up straighter. He had not seen any crooks about, so maybe they were not here tonight. But they were. He saw the carriage being stopped and the occupants undoubtedly being stripped of their valuables. He lowered his mask, rode forward and first took one villain by surprise by hitting him on the head. The other one had his hands full so he could not defend himself properly. It was an easy night. Mr. Collins did not stop to comfort the passengers, but rode away with some of the money he had taken off the one highwayman. Money was always useful.
Two days later he undertook the journey to Hertfordshire. He was received very politely, and upon seeing that some of his cousins were actually nice and pretty girls, he increased his obsequiousness so as not to give any of them a chance of liking him. He was determined not to leave them without proposing to one of them in the most objectionable and repulsive way, so that they would dislike him forever and would never want to see him again, but he feared a proposal would be music to Mrs. Bennet's ears since she was obviously eager to couple him with one of her daughters.
Part 3
Mr. Collins put on his most absurd and ingratiating behaviour, and he was happy to see that the Bennets bought it. He was sure that the young ladies would not accept him if he proposed to them, and if they did, Mr. Bennet could be counted upon to forbid them to accept his proposal. Only Mrs. Bennet did not smirk secretly or roll her eyes.
"Perhaps you would be so kind as to read aloud to the girls," Mr. Bennet suggested.
"Nothing could give me a greater pleasure," Mr. Collins hastened to assure him. In keeping with his image he feigned aversity to reading from a novel, and with an inward sigh he chose Fordyce's Sermons -- he was a clergyman after all. It was not so bad for him as it was for the girls, because he hardly registered what he read, whereas they had to listen to it. Before he could start the fourth page, though, Lydia had had enough of it and she spoke to her mother. He seized this chance to escape Fordyce's Sermons, and he pretended to be offended by Lydia's interruption.
"I have often observed how little young ladies are interested by book of a serious stamp," I personally do not understand how anyone could be interested by such a book, "though written solely for their benefit. It amazes me, I confess; for certainly, there can be nothing so advantageous to them as instruction. But I will no longer importune my young cousin." And please do not beg me to reconsider. "Mr. Bennet, if you would not have any objections to my playing against you, I would gladly offer my humble person as an antagonist."
"I have no objections, Mr. Collins."
"Mr. Collins!" Mrs. Bennet said. "I apologise for Lydia's behaviour."
"It shall not happen again," Jane added.
"Please continue," Elizabeth said insincerely.
"I do not blame Lydia," Mr. Collins assured them. "I am far from being offended, but later, perhaps?" He sat down at a table with Mr. Bennet.
Mrs. Bennet was constantly dropping hints about her marriageable daughters, and he feared that he would only be able to end it if he disgusted one of them deeply by proposing to her. Jane was such a sweet girl that she would probably say yes, so he was immensely relieved that Mrs. Bennet hinted at Jane's almost-as-good-as-certain attachment to Mr. Bingley of Netherfield Park. He did not want a wife. The second in line was Elizabeth, and this was excellent, because Elizabeth was sure to turn him down, and he doubted if any of the younger daughters would accept a man who had been turned down by their elder sister. Even if they were stupid enough to do so, he could claim to be offended. Yes, this was perfect. All he had to do now was to await the chance to propose, but Mrs. Bennet would no doubt provide him with it before the week was over.
After breakfast he attempted to win Mr. Bennet's antipathy in advance by disturbing his peace in his library. He could not have Mr. Bennet overrule Elizabeth's negative answer. At last, Mrs. Bennet asked him to accompany the girls on their walk to Meryton and he amused himself by coming up with the most pompous and inane conversation possible. This was indeed a very difficult task.
In Meryton the girls encountered a few gentlemen, and he recognised the name of one of them as belonging to Lady Catherine's nephew. He noticed that all the girls were much more interested in the gentlemen they encountered than they were in him, and inwardly he sighed of relief.
After that he had to turn on his obsequious charm for Aunt Philips, and she was much impressed. He even joined the young ladies on their engagement with the Philips in the evening, where he played whist while the girls played lottery tickets with the officers.
Part 4
The day had come: Mr. Collins proposed to Elizabeth, urged on by Mrs. Bennet. Fortunately, he expressed himself so extremely toadishly, pretending to misunderstand her rejection even, that the poor girl was even more abhorred than he expected. He was infinitely relieved. Even if Mr. Bennet, unlikely as it might be, would pressure his daughter into accepting, Elizabeth would put up such a resistance that Mr. Bennet would not have a leg to stand on.
He had escaped!
Mrs. Bennet was put out, naturally, but when was she not having a nervous breakdown? Apparently it did not take very much to upset her. The atmosphere in the Bennet household was rather loaded, so Mr. Collins was glad that Miss Lucas invited him over upon hearing of what had happened.
Never cheer too soon. Mr. Collins was soon to find out that there was a great truth in that saying as he walked to Lucas Lodge with Miss Lucas.
When they were out of sight of the house, she addressed him. "I recognise you, Mr. Collins."
Mr. Collins pondered this remark. What is she talking about? "But naturally, we were introduced a few days ago, Miss Lucas."
"I am not talking about that, Mr. Collins, if indeed that is your real name?" she raised her eyebrows.
"How dare you suggest that Collins is not my real name!"
"I dare a lot."
"It does not become a young lady to be daring. Young ladies should be calm and demure and proper," he lectured.
"Blah blah blah. I dare even suggest that this," she said, pounding him in the stomach, "is not your real stomach."
He gasped indignantly. How does she know that? "Miss Lucas!" he sounded shocked. "I am not used to such indecent behaviour."
"You wear something padded," Charlotte stated. "It must be so. One cannot gain so much weight in such a short time."
"I beg your pardon?" Where did she see me?
"I told you I recognised you, Mr. Collins," she said calmly. "I am far from being stupid."
"It would not enter my mind to suggest that," he slimed.
"So, Mr. Collins, I give you two choices. Either I reveal your adventurous side to the world, or you marry me."
He looked at her in disbelief. "Miss Lucas!"
"I am serious. I am twenty-seven years old, and I am past the marrying age. I must grab every opportunity, as you may understand."
"This is blackmail."
"So be it."
"You are mistaken."
"I am not," she maintained stubbornly. "Eyes and hands are difficult to disguise. You came to my aid once, that is why I recognise you."
"Oh dear," he said in a totally different voice. "And it seems I do not have much of a choice, what with the price put on my head."
"Does that mean you will marry me?"
"Yes," he said reluctantly. "Give me some time to work out some wormy proposal. Oh! No wait, I might kill you and then nobody will know."
"Do you really believe that you could kill me?" Charlotte bluffed. She had not taken this into consideration at all.
Part 5
Charlotte left Mr. Collins with her father, and she went to change for dinner. While she was changing, she recalled the time when she and one of her younger brothers had traveled to some relatives a few months ago. She had not told her father that their carriage had been attacked by highwaymen, and she had forbidden her brother to tell him. Before the highwaymen could take off with their money, somebody had appeared. She was not sure what the unknown hero had done, except that he had seemed to fight with the highwaymen. There had been lots of groans and thumps. His face had appeared in the open window of the carriage, and she had seen his eyes in the moonlight. His mouth had been hidden by a cloth. Charlotte had thought it was all terribly romantic. He had taken off his gloves to hand her back her money and jewelry, and that was when she had seen his hands and the small scar on one of them. Never had she imagined that she would be able to recognise anyone by his eyes and hands alone, but she had.
And now...now she had ordered him to marry her. Why? Had that been really necessary? Charlotte pondered the situation. He was certainly an interesting character. She could be just as content with him as with anyone else who did not love her either. It was not very likely that anything better -- unless it would be someone who looked like Mr. Collins in disguise -- would come along for her soon, since she was already twenty-seven, as she had explained to Mr. Collins. Someone as exciting as Mr. Collins was special. At least he seemed to be led by honourable motives now and then. She had to take advantage of the situation. Yes, I have taken the right decision. Let me only hope that he will not kill me. But he will not, surely? He could just as well flee.
Trying to look composed, she walked downstairs.
"Miss Lucas," Mr. Collins drooled. "I trust you are recovered from your walk? You look lovely."
Charlotte thought it was nice to hear him say that, even if the man did not mean half of it. She thanked him gracefully.
"Ahh, Sir William," Mr. Collins began. "You must be very desirous of your children making a good match, with such a large and prodigious family as yours."
"Indeed, Mr. Collins."
"I have a very enviable living, under the patronage of Lady Catherine De Bourgh," said Mr. Collins.
No, really? Charlotte had heard this at least fifty times before.
"Lady Catherine has lately been telling me that it is time for someone of my age and position to start looking out for a wife."
"Indeed, Mr. Collins?" said Sir William.
"Yes, and I had thought perhaps your daughter Miss Lucas..."
"Who? Charlotte?" Sir William Lucas asked, taken by surprise. He had thought he would never get rid of his eldest daughter, no offence meant.
"Yes, Miss Lucas," Mr. Collins said in a tone that sent shivers running down Charlotte's spine. "She has consented to be my wife."
Charlotte had to hand it to him, he was good, very good. She suppressed a smile. Sir William saw part of the smile, and thought his daughter was very sympathetic to the idea. "What an excellent opportunity for her," he said enthusiastically.
"What is, Sir William?" Lady Lucas cried.
"Mr. Collins has offered for Charlotte's hand, I believe."
Several of the younger Lucases let out snorts and groans.
"Oh Charlotte!" Lady Lucas cried. "Is this true, Mr. Collins?"
"Very true. I have chosen Miss Lucas as the worthy companion whom shall have the privilege of spending the rest of her days with me under the patronage of my most worthy patroness Lady Catherine De Bourgh of Rosings Park."
Charlotte underwent it all calmly -- both the joy and relief of her parents, and the censure and disgust of her younger siblings. She could not say how it really was, and neither did she long for some time alone with her fiancé. The truth was that his present disguise made her somewhat nauseous.
She feared her friend Elizabeth's reaction. Elizabeth would not forgive her for acting so stupid. She hoped she would not lose her friendship.
Part 6
Collins' courtship of his fiancée -- not that it amounted to very much, because they both avoided spending much time together -- was rudely interrupted by the necessity of his having to return to Kent to obtain his patroness' approval. The lovers did not part with very much regret, and they bore their separation calmly and composedly.
He had thought that the wife of the late Sir Lewis De Bourgh would not raise any objections to his marrying the daughter of Sir William Lucas, but of course her Ladyship had to be satisfied with explanations of how Charlotte's father had come into his title. When Lady Catherine realised that it would never do for Anne to marry a child of someone elevated to a knighthood, but that it would do very well for her parson, she gave her sanction to the match.
"I am slightly disappointed in your cousins, Mr. Collins, for not seeing the great opportunity you offered them, but it is not worth grieving about. I am inclined to think," she said, "that this Miss Lucas will be a suitable wife as well. Not too high to look down upon what will be her new situation in life, and high enough to be able to make you a proper wife. Yes, Mr. Collins, I think I shall make you the gift of a few chickens of your own."
"Your Ladyship is too kind," Mr. Collins bowed reverently.
"Tell me of Miss Lucas. Is she pretty, genteel, accomplished?"
Mr. Collins had no idea if Charlotte was accomplished. He played safe. "She is tolerably so, Lady Catherine, but her talents and looks do not equal those of Miss De Bourgh." Of course they would not -- they were not identical twins separated at birth.
"That goes without saying, Mr. Collins. Miss De Bourgh has many talents, but as you know her health does not permit her to exploit them."
Unless pretending to be ill is a talent, in that case Miss De Bourgh is certainly taking the exploitation of it to new heights.
"I am sure that if her health had allowed her to practice music, she would have been very accomplished at any instrument, for she always listens to music with great pleasure. Miss De Bourgh also possesses uncommonly good features, and I have yet to encounter a young woman who can rival my Anne's looks. She possesses that very distinctive quality of good breeding and good descent in her features, that gives a person an immediate, unparalleled beauty."
Mr. Collins wanted to say something, but he knew not what, so he bowed again, and mumbled his agreement.
"She is engaged to my nephew Mr. Darcy, who owns Pemberley, as you know, and upon their marriage the two estates shall be joined."
After discussing Mr. Darcy's good fortune to be engaged to the jewel of Rosings for quite a lengthy period of time, Mr. Collins departed.
When he returned to Hertfordshire for the wedding, he stayed with the Lucases in anticipation of the important event. He had, however, stipulated that they would go to Kent immediately after the wedding. It would not be very pleasant to spend the wedding night at Lucas Lodge with the whole family snickering and curious. Collins wondered if Charlotte would demand that he perform his marital duties in the same way she had demanded that he marry her. He hoped she would not push matters so far. Would Lady Catherine ask him if everything had gone to satisfaction? She probably would, so how was he going to get out of this scrape? But then on the other hand, she already knew he was not what he seemed, so he need not fear that his closeness would alert her to the fact.
Part 7
The wedding took ages, Collins thought, and he could not wait until it was over. All the annoying people from Meryton who were eager to see who caught the bouquet were driving him insane. Finally he was on his way to Kent with his wife. He cringed when he thought of it. He had a wife.
They spoke very little during the trip. Mr. Collins was continually engaged in looking out of the window, and Charlotte was engaged in looking at him stealthily. Charlotte was immensely curious about his other self, but she did not want to impose herself more than she already had by forcing him to marry her. She decided to wait. Surely nobody could live his life always in disguise? If she would have read a story about a certain doctor, she would have thought otherwise. She wondered how he would look without the padding. Perhaps his figure was as fine as Mr. Darcy's.
"I hope you do not wish for any children, Mrs. Collins," he broke the silence.
"Why do you hope that?"
"Because I am afraid I cannot provide you with any." He hoped she would not get the wrong idea.
"Are you a woman?" Charlotte asked.
"No, I am not. It would be rather inconvenient in my current situation."
"To be a woman or to have children?"
He hesitated before he spoke. "Both."
"Children would find out and not keep the secret to themselves? Is that what you mean?"
Mr. Collins nodded.
"Surely," Charlotte asked, "you are not planning to continue rescuing everybody for the rest of your life? Surely you will retire at some point? Or will you keep up the heroics despite your failing eyesight and hearing and who knows what else might fail you?"
He stared out of the window. "No, I should think not. I shall probably have had enough of the thrills long before I reach that time in my life, but that time has not come yet," he said with determination.
"Oh, do not fret," Charlotte said in a mockingly indulgent tone. "Everybody gets his thrills out of something. For some it is collecting toothpick cases, and for others it is growing pumpkins, and for you it is this. I shall not deprive you of it."
"I am glad," he answered. "And to keep you occupied, her Ladyship has presented me with a few chickens."
"I am eternally grateful."
"She will inquire after them at every occasion, so it is imperative that they remain in good health," he warned.
"Is she ummm....in good health herself?" Charlotte asked cautiously. "From what I have heard of her I do not get the impression that she is in any way normal."
"She is a bit eccentric, but so we all are."
"Indeed," she said meaningfully. Her new husband was extremely eccentric. She wondered what he thought of her. So far he had treated her as if she were a burden, although he was not impolite. He could have said less.
Part 8
Mr. Collins did not show her the house beyond her set of rooms, and then he left her to explore on her own. He locked himself in his study with his trusted manservant. She had no idea what he was doing, and she was only a little curious. She walked through the house with a rather elated feeling. She had a house. Of her own. Granted, she had to share it with her husband, but she did not expect to see him much. He had made that very clear.
While she walking through the hall, he appeared in the door of his study. "Mrs. Collins?"
"Yes?" she turned.
"I forgot to tell you that I give you a free hand with regard to the housekeeping. You may discuss all matters to that effect with my manservant."
"Thank you," Charlotte said, though she had no idea why she ought to thank him for making her some kind of underservant. He closed the door again and she raised her eyebrows. He was certainly odd. "Well, I had better see about dinner then."
She found out upon entering the kitchen that there were a cook and a maid coming in from the village every day, and another maid coming to clean twice a week. The cook and the cleaning maid had already been coming to Mr. Collins' predecessor, but the daily girl was new, and she had only been hired by him after he had known he was to be married. From the cook she learned that Mr. Collins' manservant took care of his rooms as well, and that the weekly maid had never been inside his rooms.
Charlotte discussed the dinner particularities with the cook, and then she took a stroll in the garden. It seemed a nice enough garden, well-tended to her surprise, and she wondered if Mr. Collins took care of it himself. It was very probable, since she had not heard anything about a personal gardener. Lady Catherine's gardeners sometimes took care of a part of the parsonage's land, but they would not tend to the gardens close to the house.
Lady Catherine's gardeners led Charlotte to think of her Ladyship herself. When would the newly-weds be invited? Surely she would give them some respite? Suppose they were madly in love, Charlotte snorted. Some newly-weds were. It was not that unusual.
Mr. Collins and his manservant were engaged in a serious talk. His manservant Watson was just explaining to him where the latest highway robberies had taken place, and they were bent over a map. Watson was the only person who knew of his master's double identity. He would never disclose it, as he had sworn on it, and besides, he was much too thrilled to ever give the game up. There was something very dashing about riding in the dark with a black mask on and carrying a pistol.
"It looks like some action is needed. What do you say, Watson?"
"I say we go, sir."
"You always say that," Collins replied in amusement. "I had better make it a rhetorical question."
"When do we ride out, sir?" Watson asked eagerly.
"I have just gotten married, as you know," Collins said pensively. "But that will not stop me. Tomorrow?"
"I will have everything ready," Watson promised. "But your wife, sir."
"What of her?"
"Does she know? Does she not expect anything from you?"
"She knows, and she does not expect anything from me."
Watson shrugged. Mrs. Collins had seemed quite all right to him in a quiet, unobtrusive sort of way.
Part 9
Charlotte and Mr. Collins had dinner together, but they ate without speaking. Towards the end of the meal it began to unnerve Charlotte so much that she decided to break the silence. "When do you think Lady Catherine will grant us an audience?" she asked.
This question seemed to startle him. "It will not be long before she does, I expect."
"Had you given the matter any thought?"
"Of course," Mr. Collins answered.
"Then how do you think I should behave towards her? I think I can imagine how you would behave, but I do not think I can do it too."
"You brought this upon yourself," he said coldly. He did not know what to make of her motives. Perhaps she had only forced him to marry her because it was romantic to marry someone mysterious. Although it was too late to rebel against that, he had decided he was not going to make it easy.
Charlotte shrugged. "I hope you like carrots, because they are my favourite vegetables." Her husband looked even more startled, to her secret amusement.
"Uhh, yes."
"Well, it is a start, I suppose," she remarked half-loud.
"Of what?"
"Nothing." If he could be mysterious, so could she. Charlotte observed him from the other end of the table. His greasy locks fell across his face, and she wondered if he never washed it. There was nothing the matter with his face, but one tended to forget that because of his manner. Now that Charlotte had seen through the manner, she could look at his face anew. It is amazing how his manner obscured his features. If he would only wash his hair...I wonder what colour it really is.
"Why are you watching me?"
"Am I?"
"Yes, you are."
Charlotte shrugged. "I thought it would be wise to study your appearance so I might recognise you if we should meet somewhere other than at the dinner table."
"I would make myself known," he said gravely.
"If it would suit you to do so!"
"Perhaps," he replied. "It may not always suit you to be connected to me either."
"Perhaps not, no, but it would be rather unfortunate if I saw you undisguised and I thought you were a burglar," Charlotte explained.
"You want to see me undisguised," Mr. Collins stated. "Is there no end to your demands?"
"It is a reasonable demand, you must admit it. I am your wife. Would you want yourself to be unrecognisable to me until we are fifty? Surely all this concealing and disguising in your own house must begin to tire you at some point? I think it would make your life easier if you let me in on the secret."
Mr. Collins had to admit that it was a reasonable demand, but he would need to give the manner some more thought. It was imperative to know if his new wife was a reliable person first. "I shall need to think about it. It is not a decision one takes easily, Mrs. Collins."
"Of course not," she agreed. "After all, it does involve some serious business, like washing one's hair and wearing different clothes. Do you want me to resort to peeking and poking?"
"Peeking and poking?" Mr. Collins asked with a quivering voice.
"Yes, to determine whether you are wearing padded clothes or not. Or peeking, when you ride off to another adventure."
"All right," he said calmly. "I see shall not be able to conceal anything from you if you are so resourceful. To spare myself the trouble I shall let you in on the secret, as you put it. Tomorrow night."
Charlotte smiled to herself. "Thank you, Mr. Collins."
Part 10
That night passed uneventfully. Mr. Collins did not visit his new wife, and neither had she expected him to do so. In the morning she explored the surroundings, spoke with the cook, and received a message from Lady Catherine. All this time Mr. Collins worked in his garden or in his library, and he went to the church for a while too, for a meeting. They hardly saw each other. Charlotte thought she could bear it very well if every day was to be like this and if Mr. Collins turned out to be a disaster of a man.
After dinner Mr. Collins disappeared into his rooms and his manservant came to bid her over after an hour or two. Charlotte calmly put her needlework aside and went to her husband's rooms. The manservant vanished at some point and she was alone when she entered. Mr. Collins was standing in front of the window, looking out into the night.
"Unwise," Charlotte commented.
He turned. "I beg your pardon?"
"It is unwise to stand in front of an illuminated window," she said as she observed him closely. He wore black trousers and a black coat, but they did not seem to be padded. He was much slimmer. His hair was no longer greasy, but brown, even though it was a little too long to her taste. The light of the candle threw shadows on his face and she could not see its expression, but she saw that its form was good.
Mr. Collins flicked back his hair with an impatient gesture and closed the curtains. He did not really like being reprimanded by a woman, even if she was right. "Are you satisfied, Mrs. Collins?" he asked in a abrupt manner. "This is me. Nothing concealed. All of me." He did a little turn in front of her.
"No, it is not," she stated quietly. "I may know what you look like now, but I still do not know who you are."
"Demanding, are we? Perhaps you shall never know who I am, Mrs. Collins."
"Charlotte."
"No," he answered slowly. "If I call you that, you will insist upon calling me by my first name and that -"
"-- that is ridiculous. Of course, I understand."
Collins looked a little flushed. "It would be incongruous," he said stiffly. "I do not believe in too much familiarity between a parson and his spouse. I think I ought to have become a Catholic priest."
"He would have a housekeeper," Charlotte said boldly.
"I must go," Collins said even more abrupt than before. He averted his eyes and quickly walked past her, leaving Charlotte in his room. She heard him descend the stairs and give orders to Watson. Soon she heard horses ride off. All the while she had been standing in the same place. He had not told her to leave the room, had he? So she would do a little exploring, because she thought his bedroom might hide more secrets than his study.
Slowly she walked to a cabinet and opened a drawer. Its contents seemed fairly innocent. Clothes, undergarments and other accessories. There was more of the same in the second and third drawer. The fourth contained stacks of paper, and she took them out to study them. Unfortunately they were relatively innocent correspondence between Collins and the uncle who had paid for his education, but it provided Charlotte with some very useful information about his background.
Part 11
The next morning at eight Mr. Collins was eating his breakfast as if he had not been out during most of the night at all. Charlotte looked at him curiously if he would bid her a good morning.
He did not. If I am going to say good morning to her, she is going to see this as the sign to interrogate me about where I went last night.
Charlotte sat down without greeting him. She was sick of always having to make the first move. You saw me. If you are not going to say anything, then neither will I. He was reading the newspaper over breakfast and when he put it down, she asked for it. "Could you give me the newspaper?"
Mr. Collins looked surprised. "The paper?"
"That thing you were reading," she nodded.
"Do you want to read it?"
"No, I want to count the number of times the word and appears in it," Charlotte said sarcastically. He gave her a strange look and handed her the paper. "Thank you."
Mr. Collins finished his breakfast quietly, now and then casting a look at the other side of the table where his wife was engrossed in the news. A servant came in to deliver a note. It was from Lady Catherine. She was ready to receive them at eleven o'clock. Totally disregarding the fact that I might not be ready to be received, he commented to himself. I might have been busy. He cleared his throat. "Mrs. Collins, Lady Catherine expects us at eleven. Be ready to walk over at half past ten."
"Does it take half an hour to walk?"
"No."
"Why half past ten then?"
"So we shall not be late," said Mr. Collins in a precise voice.
"Mr. Collins, you are the most considerate of husbands," she said, with the intention to throw him off balance. She succeeded, for he looked very astonished. "We must not keep Lady Catherine waiting, of course. Not after receiving those chickens from her. Did you know that one already laid an egg? I shall look forward to looking for eggs each morning with such anticipation!"
"I am glad," Mr. Collins said dryly. He rose. "I shall see you at half past ten."
"Have a good sleep," Charlotte wished him, and she laughed inwardly when he looked guilty.
At half past ten precisely she waited downstairs in the hall, ready to leave. Mr. Collins joined her and they slowly walked towards Rosings Park. He never spoke a word until they ascended the steps leading towards the front door. "Her manners might not be those of a lady," he warned her.
Charlotte wondered to what she owed this confidential warning. Not to his own manners, I am sure. She observed the stately entrance hall with interest. It was certainly very impressive and designed to give the lower life forms an appropriate feeling of inferiority. Lady Catherine could not be much different. They followed the servants through and anti-chamber. "Why do you think we need to be escorted by two of them?" she whispered to Mr. Collins. "Are your patroness's footmen so half-witted that they need to work in pairs to have one complete wit between the two of them?"
Mr. Collins coughed.
Immediately an authoritative voice called out from the inner room. "Is that you, Mr. Collins? Why are you coughing? Did you not follow my directions with regard to sufficiently warm wedding clothes?"
Part 12
Mr. Collins almost fell over himself apologising and explaining that it had been a speck of dust in his throat.
"A speck of dust?" her Ladyship squealed indignantly. "My servants clean this house well! There is not a speck of dust to be found!" To demonstrate this she ran her finger along the edge of a cabinet. "See?"
"Indeed I do, I do, Lady Catherine," said Mr. Collins hastily.
Lady Catherine fixed her attention on Charlotte. "And this must be Mrs. Collins."
"Indeed it is. This is...Mrs. Collins."
"Mrs. Collins seems to be a genteel sort of young lady, Mr. Collins. I think she will make you a proper wife," said Lady Catherine, observing Charlotte very closely. "Not too high above you. I think her choice of garments is very wise. It is just right for a woman in her position."
Charlotte felt as if someone would be offering to pay for her at any moment.
"How are your chickens?"
"They are fine, Lady Catherine. One laid an egg this morning."
"What? Only one?"
"Yes, Lady Catherine."
"Have you given them enough to eat?"
"Yes, Lady Catherine."
"Hmmph! Perhaps they need some time to adjust themselves to the obviously less luxurious circumstances of the parsonage. I am sure they will start laying eggs in abundance, just like they used to do here. My chickens keep my table filled."
"You might be right, Lady Catherine."
"I am always right," Lady Catherine said decisively.
"You are quite right, Lady Catherine," Mr. Collins said with a bow. "Mrs. Collins, you will find that Lady Catherine De Bourgh is always right."
Lady Catherine gave him an appreciative glance and then turned back. "Mrs. Collins, this is my daughter Miss De Bourgh, of whom I am certain you must have heard many things, none of which have been exaggerated."
Charlotte had not heard anything about Anne yet, since Mr. Collins was not a very communicative person. She found Anne to be very tiny and pale and with a limp hand when it was shaken. Charlotte pitied her and gave her a friendly smile. If she was as different from her mother in character as she was in looks, then she would probably be a nice sort of girl.
Their visit did not last very long. Lady Catherine announced their departure by bluntly saying that they ought to leave so Mrs. Collins could supervise the preparations for dinner. "One must always lay down the law very firmly with servants one is not used to," she disclosed. "I have experienced that this is the best way of preventing them from taking over the household."
"Thank you for your wise advice," Mr. Collins bowed again. All this bowing was going to give him a back ache. Mrs. Collins seemed not to be too impressed by Lady Catherine, which was a good thing. A wife under her Ladyship's influence was something he did not need at all.
"It is nothing, I assure you," said Lady Catherine modestly. "I give good advice on many subjects."
"Invaluable, I say." Mr. Collins bowed again to take his leave, and he and Charlotte departed.
"Well, well," said Charlotte when they walked through the park.
"Well what?"
"I found that most entertaining."
Part 13
"Did you?" Mr. Collins asked.
"Yes. The woman is ridiculous. I hope you did not mean it when you said she was always right, but do not answer that. Perhaps I might come to know you if you told me," Charlotte warned him. "And that, Mr. Collins, would be disastrous, if I have understood your previous communications correctly. I do not know why, but I do not claim to understand the obscure ways in which your mind works."
"It is better not to venture into such dark depths."
"Or dark shallowness?"
Mr. Collins said nothing. His wife was certainly a formidable opponent. Perhaps it was best not to antagonise her too much, and give her what she asked for, but not more. No, certainly not more, but just enough to keep her quiet and satisfied so she would not trouble him anymore. Or something to think about.
An idea occurred to him.
He looked around himself. It could not be done here yet. They were still in view of Rosings, and Lady Catherine was undoubtedly staring after them through one of the windows. The woman was nosy enough for it.
Charlotte noticed his sudden sharp and calculating glance. Alright, no shallowness then. "What are you thinking of, Mr. Collins?"
Mr. Collins glanced back over his shoulder. No, Rosings was still visible. "Something shallow, no doubt," he replied coldly. Does the woman even want to know what I am thinking?
"As long as it amuses you, Mr. Collins. Can you be amused?"
"Perhaps I can, and perhaps I cannot. It is of no consequence."
"Pray explain yourself."
"I shall not attempt to do that."
"You would not succeed, I think," said Charlotte. "But how fascinating to be without any sense of humour and to still be able to appreciate Lady Catherine."
They passed through the gate that led to Rosings Park and Mr. Collins saw they were out of sight of everyone.
"I believe you appreciate her more than you own wife."
"I do not appreciate anyone," Mr. Collins said icily.
"Not even Watson? I am devastated," said Charlotte dryly.
"It is useless to press me into confidences."
"Oh, I shall keep trying, even if I have found out that it is a very unsatisfactory pastime."
Mr. Collins halted and looked around himself. There was nobody to observe what he was about to do. This really went against all of his principles, but he felt he had no choice. He had to give the woman something to keep her quiet, and this was something relatively easy to give. It would not cost him anything. He would not have to surrender anything of his inner self. He would remain as mysterious and elusive as before, but at least he would have done what he saw as a part of his marital duties.
He kissed her roughly. "There. You got what you wanted. Satisfied? Now stop harassing me." And he walked on.
Charlotte stood frozen. This was not at all what she had wanted, but she was too stunned to reply anything.
Part 14
Does he think he can pay me off like that? That is not going to work! Am I supposed to live off that kiss and hold my tongue? He shall not control me like that. No, Mr. Collins such tactics do not make you a good husband. What can I do? Pay him in kind?
Charlotte doubted. She did not know if she had the acting skills required. Even Collins would not believe it if she suddenly did a Mrs. Bennet imitation. No, she had to act more like her usual self and stay calm. Quickly she walked after her husband, a faint red tinge creeping across her cheeks. "Mr. Collins?"
He did not turn his head but kept his eyes fixed on the path ahead.
"Mr. Collins?" Charlotte persisted. "I found that most entertaining too. Impressive, even."
He gave her an alarmed stare.
Charlotte slipped her hand through Mr. Collins' arm and he stiffened. "Now we are truly husband and wife," she said in a satisfied tone.
Mr. Collins pulled away his arm roughly. "We are not."
"There is more to come?" Charlotte inquired.
"There is not."
"You are not very generous for someone who can boast of such noble exploits. But! I shall not complain. I shall be a dutiful wife and I shall be content with every little bit of affection you show me. We do not all display our affection in the same exuberant manner." Charlotte patted his hand and quickly walked ahead. Dear me. What have I got myself into? What kind of man is this? Will he ever kiss me again? She had not felt anything when he had kissed her, just shock, and she was curious how it would be if he did it again.
In the house they both went about their business calmly. It was a riding-out night again - there were some highwaymen in the neighbourhood and he had not found them the night before. Mr. Collins dined with Charlotte in almost complete silence and afterwards he went to prepare himself for his trip. Watson and he studied the map, dressed in black and rode out into the night.
There was one notorious point where travellers were often robbed. Collins knew their tactics. They would ride at a safe distance behind their victims and move in on them at the designated spot. He and Watson sat on the grass beside their horses and waited.
"Carriage approaching," said Watson suddenly.
Collins gripped his gun and got to his feet. The carriage came closer and his experienced ears recognised the sound of extra hooves. They were in luck tonight.
"Stop the carriage!" a gruff voice shouted, and a woman shrieked. "Hand over your goodies! Fast!"
Collins and Watson noticed there were two highwaymen, one to keep the coachman under control, and one to get the loot. They split up according to their habit and moved closer to their targets.
"The necklace!" the bandit ordered a woman inside the carriage. He could see something shiny around her neck by the light of the moon that shone through one of the windows of the carriage.
"I cannot get it off," the woman whined and her fingers trembled.
"That is too bad," the villain sneered. "I like touching ladies. I'll do it for you." He reached out his hand.
"Oh, no you don't," Collins raised his voice and stepped out of the shadows. He counted on Watson dealing with the other crook, but Watson was having a little more trouble with it than usual. He was actually on the ground gasping for breath, and the crook was sneaking up behind the unsuspecting Collins.
Part 15
Mr. Collins was hit over the head with something hard and he sagged to the ground. The highwayman who had hit him had not been very clever, for he had left the coachman alone, and the coachman now whipped his horses. The carriage took off with a jolt. The two highwaymen cried, because they had not actually got any loot yet, and they jumped on their horses in pursuit.
Watson groaned and came to his feet. "Mr. Collins?" he asked, but there was no reply. "Sir? Are you wounded?" He stumbled around and nearly fell over Collins's body. He fell to his knees to listen for a heartbeat, and found out that Collins was merely unconscious. Before the highwaymen would return, he had to get his master out of there. With all of his forces he lifted Collins up, hung him over his horse and got into the saddle behind him. The other horse walked beside them. During the whole trip Collins never showed any signs of regaining his consciousness.
It was nearly morning when he arrived at the parsonage. Dawn would break soon and he had to get Collins inside before people would start going to their work. Watson dragged Collins's body inside and examined him by the light of a candle. He did not seem to have any outward wounds, so why he was unconscious was a mystery to him. Perhaps he had been hit over the head? Yes, there was a nice lump there.
Perhaps he should call in Mrs. Collins's assistance. Watson had never spoken to her much, and he knew that Mr. Collins himself did not seem very familiar with her either. He frowned, and decided it was the best option anyway.
He knocked on Charlotte's door. "Mrs. Collins?"
"Yes?" she answered.
She is already up? Watson wondered. "Mr. Collins is unwell."
Charlotte opened the door. "What is new?" she sighed. "That Mr. Collins was mentally unwell has long been known to me."
"Madam!" said Watson involuntarily. "That is untrue."
"You are not used to normal people, perhaps, Watson?"
Watson looked indignant. "Mr. Collins is really unwell."
"Why should that concern me? I am sure Mr. Collins does not desire my concern."
"He does not," Watson admitted.
"Well then!" Charlotte said triumphantly.
"Because he cannot desire anything. He is unconscious."
"Unconscious? How?"
"Somebody hit him over the head, I believe."
Charlotte looked thoughtful. "Sometimes one hears of people who lose their mind after being hit over the head. Perhaps it will work the other way in this particular instance? Why are you informing me of this all? Is there something you wish me to do?"
"I need your assistance, Madam. He needs to be taken upstairs."
"Ahh." Charlotte told herself that she was doing a charitable deed and followed Watson downstairs. Her husband was lying on the sofa, his eyes closed and dressed all in black.
"If you support his other arm now, Madam," said Watson, and they dragged him upstairs to Mr. Collins' bedchamber. They placed him on the bed and Watson yawned.
"You go to bed, Watson," Charlotte said. "We can leave him alone. He is unconscious anyway!"
"No, Madam. Somebody must stay."
Since Watson almost fell over from sleep, Charlotte grudgingly promised him to stay. She brought her needlework and sat down beside the bed, wondering what on earth she was doing there. After a few hours Collins groaned. He opened his eyes, looked around and at her for a minute before he spoke. "Where am I?"
"You are here," Charlotte said evenly.
"My head hurts. Why am I not wearing a shirt?" he demanded.
"Because Watson took that off."
"Why?"
"I believe you had lain in something that smelled rather disagreeably."
"Could he not have dressed me in another shirt?" Collins asked disconcertedly. He felt very vulnerable and exposed lying in bed without a shirt with his wife - of all people - sitting beside his bed. And his head hurt so badly that he could not even sit up.
Perhaps Watson thought I needed something to look at, Charlotte thought wryly.
"Where is Watson?"
"Sleeping."
"What are you doing here? I do not need you."
"I am doing it for Watson, not for you."
Collins closed his eyes. Wonderful. She is having an affair with Watson. "Go."
"Gladly," Charlotte replied, eyeing him carefully. "That means there will not be anyone to get you anything for at least four hours, but...if that is what you want...who am I? I bid you a good day." She rose.
"Wake up Watson."
"No. If you want Watson to wake up, you shall have to do it yourself." She rather suspected that he was unable to do so. She left the room and saw it was already ten o'clock. Time to start the business of the day. It was his own fault that he was alone now, she told herself. The man was just too disagreeable.
After two hours she looked in again, because she was curious. She had been right. He had not been well enough to summon Watson. He turned his head towards the door and looked at her. "I am thirsty."
"Watson is not up yet, but I shall inform him of that as soon as I see him."
"I need it now!" Collins said in agony.
Charlotte did not really want to kill anybody by neglecting him, but she was no servant. "That is very unfortunate," she said sympathetically.
"Get me something."
"Me?" she feigned surprise. "But you said you did not need me. You told me to go." As they stared at each other she wondered who would be the first to give in.
Part 16
"Would you please get me something to drink?" he pleaded.
Charlotte turned and left the room. She went downstairs and filled a jug with water, took a glass, and went back upstairs.
Mr. Collins looked very surprised when she returned. Because she had not said anything, he had assumed that she had left without intending to bring him anything. "I...ahh..." Charlotte poured him a drink and he sat up, clutching the covers up to his chin.
Charlotte looked amused. "There is no need for that, sir, unless you are cold. You have been lying here in a half-undressed state for several hours. Had you thought I kept my eyes shut? Perhaps you had best not go out without a shirt. You look a little too strong to be Mr. Collins."
Collins looked alarmed at this revelation. He had been observed! "I am Mr. Collins."
"You are not," she said quietly, staring at him defiantly.
"Whatever can you mean?"
"I took the liberty of doing a little research. I looked through your letters."
Collins narrowed his eyes while he tried to figure out which consequences this would have. "My letters?"
"Well, they were supposedly yours, but we both know they were not, were they? The letters to your uncle?"
"And what of them?"
"I found them suspicious from the start, but I am convinced now. You are not Mr. Collins. Certain things do not match. One, the style they were written in was a little different, but styles may change. Two, there was a mention of a knife wound that I had forgotten about, and your hiding your upper body so anxiously made me think of it again. Only, I now saw that you have no knife wound. Not a visible one, at least."
"Based on this evidence you dare to say I am not William Collins?"
"Yes."
"Which would mean you are not married to me," he pointed out shrewdly.
"I find it amazing that this had not occurred sooner to someone with so little interest in the state of matrimony," Charlotte said sarcastically.
"If it had, I must have had my reasons."
"You are not denying anything, therefore it must be true," Charlotte concluded.
"I am not saying that."
"Give it up! We both know the truth, and I find it very dense of you when you keep saying you are not saying anything. What happened to the real Collins?"
"Oh, he died," said Collins matter-of-factly.
"Did you kill him?"
"Yes," he lied. "What are your plans? Are you going to turn me in?"
"And get sent back home to Lucas Lodge?" Charlotte shook her head. "I have come to enjoy my freedom. I shall not endanger that."
Collins looked a little more relieved. "Then you shall not tell?"
"Have I betrayed you yet?" she asked.
He had to admit that she had not. "No, but that does not guarantee that you never will."
"Did you kill him?"
"No."
Now it was Charlotte's turn to look relieved. "You just took over his identity?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
He shrugged. "To have some fun? I have always aspired to be an actor or an adventurer, or both. It was quite impossible to become either in my position, so I had to take on another identity. I shall do this for a few years, then revert back to my old self and you will live happily ever after as the envied widow of the disgusting Mr. Collins."
Charlotte thought this over. It sounded very strange to her, but then, she never had aspired to be anything, and least of all an actress or an adventuress. But he was going to leave her when he was done having fun. She would be mistress of her own house. That appealed to her. One question remained. "Who were you?"
Part 17
"That is a very good question," said Mr. Collins, and he laughed. He had expected her to ask it and he was not surprised, but he could and would not give an answer to it. It was out of the question.
"I suppose you do not want to tell me," Charlotte said perceptively.
"You are quite correct."
"Do you know it at all?" Charlotte asked.
"Indeed. I know very well who I am."
"I am happy to hear that," she said sarcastically. "How is it possible for anyone to take a short holiday from being oneself without people thinking strange things when one returns? You would have to have a very convincing story when you get back, or are you alone in the world?"
"No, I am not alone. My family believes I have been travelling the continent for the past three years," he said solemnly. "I do not worry about their questions too much. I have heard so many stories that I can borrow elements from, so I am really not worried. As long as I keep my facts straight about which beer is drunk where and what the women are likely to be called in a certain country, they will believe it all."
"I cannot believe that is all that young men do when they go to the continent," Charlotte said.
"No, it depends on where their interests lie. I have travelled," he smiled, "though not for three years, so I have only seen some of the things I ought to have seen."
"I still think it is very strange," Charlotte said bluntly. "To be wasting your time pretending to be a parson."
"But think of the moral education I would not be receiving if I did not have to write sermons every week!"
"Nonsense. Anybody can read books."
"Well, I am still convinced that it is useful to see how other people live and to see the world from another side."
"So you did not grow up in these circumstances," she said shrewdly.
"Perhaps I am only confusing you by making you think so," Collins said. "You never know. I have done revealing and you shall not hear any more. You might as well return to whatever you were doing. May I have a shirt?" Charlotte handed him a shirt and he put it on. "That is better. I do not like being exposed. I thank you kindly."
Charlotte was baffled. "Is that blow on your head beginning to work out only now?"
The truth was that 'Collins' was rather relieved after partly confiding in somebody and he felt more favourably disposed towards her. Favourable enough to be reasonably civil and to smile.
Charlotte was even more baffled by his smile and quickly exited the room.
Part 18
Mr. Collins soon recovered from his adventure although his head kept hurting for a while longer. He had no choice, really, because they were expected at Rosings again, and if he did not make an appearance, Lady Catherine would undoubtedly come to the parsonage to size up the situation and prescribe whatever remedy she deemed necessary.
He always walked to Rosings, and the next time they were summoned -- there really was no kinder word for it -- he dragged himself through the park. Arriving at the steps, Mr. Collins sat down heavily and closed his eyes to let his dizziness subside. "I hope she is not looking."
"If she is, Lady Catherine will blame it on your padded paunch," Charlotte informed him.
He groaned. "Somehow I think that is worse, because she will tell me to do this and that to lose weight and probably have somebody supervise the exercises as well."
"If it is me you need not worry."
"I am afraid that she would probably think that highly improper." Mr. Collins staggered to his feet.
"She is merely jealous, I should say," Charlotte remarked casually, and Collins promptly lost his balance.
"Ouch," he groaned.
"You seem a little unstable. Shall I call one of her half-witted footmen?"
"There is no need. Everything is under control now," said Mr. Collins as he got up once more. "Let us ring the bell to announce our presence."
Lady Catherine began speaking immediately, after greeting them with a regal nod. "I have received a letter from my nephew Darcy. He will be paying me a visit some time soon, like he generally does every year. He is such a handsome and charming young man! And engaged to Miss De Bourgh, of course."
Miss De Bourgh's face showed no expression while she said this.
"Their marriage will join their two estates together, for Darcy owns Pemberley -- I believe I may have told you about Pemberley? -- and Miss De Bourgh will inherit Rosings Park. Darcy is my favourite nephew indeed, always so respectful and polite to his dear aunt, but all my nephews are well-bred young men. Miss De Bourgh is very fond of all her cousins."
Again Miss De Bourgh's face betrayed nothing.
"Now Mr. Collins, about next Sunday's sermon..." Lady Catherine addressed Mr. Collins.
Charlotte turned to Miss De Bourgh. She had never exchanged more than a polite smile and a mumble with her, but she was determined to find out whether Miss De Bourgh could really speak. "Were you happy to hear your cousin will be visiting soon, Miss De Bourgh?" she asked, but Miss De Bourgh did not even look at her. She appeared not to have heard. Charlotte voice was much softer than Lady Catherine's, and Charlotte wondered if Miss De Bourgh was perhaps deaf. With a mother who placed such value on her nephews' behaviour, she could not possibly be so rude as to ignore her. Charlotte placed her hand on Miss De Bourgh's arm and the girl looked at her with a startled expression.
"Did you say anything, Mrs. Collins?" she said in an embarrassed whisper.
"Yes, I did. Did you not hear me?"
"You were talking at my wrong ear. I am afraid I do not hear well with one ear," Miss De Bourgh apologised. "I have an inflammation again."
"I asked if you were happy to have your cousin visit you."
"Darcy, you mean? Yes, I am quite happy about that."
"I heard you are engaged to him. I met your fiancé in Hertfordshire," Charlotte said. "He is quite handsome."
Miss De Bourgh blushed and looked at her mother stealthily. "We got disengaged a long time ago," she whispered. "But mother does not know it yet. Fitzwilliam said he does not want to marry his cousin."
That was the longest speech she had ever heard from Miss De Bourgh, and Charlotte was impressed. "I hope you were not upset?"
"Oh, no," said Miss De Bourgh. "Because I was first engaged to another cousin until I was twelve, but he went to London and very little was heard of him since. Engagements do not mean much to me anymore. When mother hears of Darcy's disinclination, she will no doubt engage me to someone else."
"Mr. Darcy does not want to marry Miss De Bourgh," said Charlotte when she and Mr. Collins returned to their house. "He broke off the engagement."
"I hope he did it politely. He can be quite blunt."
"So blunt men can be polite, you think?" Charlotte asked innocently, referring to his own bluntness.
"If they tried, they could."
"Oh! But the effort is too much, I suppose? Did you know that Miss De Bourgh was first engaged to another cousin? Does Lady Catherine ever mention that?"
"She would not mention failures. Poor Anne, to be a woman twice rejected. However, I am sure you could give her a few tips on how to catch herself a husband by employing devious strategies."
"Do you know, you are much more talkative since that blow on your head," said Charlotte.
"Do not tell me you think it was a good thing! I was in serious pain, and I am still dizzy," Mr. Collins protested.
"Perhaps one more blow and you will tell me your name," Charlotte mused.
Mr. Collins shook his head and grimaced when this movement sent sharp pains all through it. "I do not think so, my dear."
Part 19
"Mr. Collins, have you got any more adventures planned soon?" Charlotte asked when they were having dinner a few days later. Although he had been more friendly to her, he still absented himself for much of the day and they rarely spoke before dinner.
"No, there has not been much action in the neighbourhood lately," he said with regret. "But you may depend upon it that we will ride out as soon as the face of evil shows itself in this area. I have to go to London anyway, so I am rather glad that it has been so quiet."
"To London?" Charlotte asked. This was the first time Mr. Collins had ever talked of going away to somewhere other than Rosings, the village and the nearest small town.
"Yes."
"I suppose you are going alone."
"Yes, it is impossible to take you. I have some business to do."
"How long will it take you?" she asked. "Will you be back before Mr. Darcy comes?"
"Of course. Lady Catherine would never speak to me again if I was not here to greet her nephew. I shall be back in time."
"What have you to do in London?" Charlotte tried, but from his face she had already gathered that he was not very likely to tell her.
"Business."
"Business is a very vague term."
"And very useful," he replied.
"I do not care," she said haughtily. "Whatever it is that you are going to do. I shall not resort to begging just to find out that you are trying out a new game of cards or a new variety of ale."
Mr. Collins laughed. "If I were to say that it concerns neither of these things, you would not believe me, so I shall not admit nor deny anything."
Three days later Mr. Collins set off for London. Charlotte watched him leave, wondering what he was going to do there. When he was out of sight she went on with her daily occupations. In the middle of the day a note from Lady Catherine was delivered by a servant who said he was to wait for a reply. Her Ladyship knew about Mr. Collins's trip to town, like she knew about almost everything he did. Charlotte wondered if she even knew how many eggs the chickens had laid. Lady Catherine now invited her to dine with her and Miss De Bourgh that evening. To decline would be uncivil and she did not even have a reason, so she told the servant she accepted.
Lady Catherine had condescended to have Charlotte picked up by her carriage, because it would not do to have her walk over without the protection of Mr. Collins. Charlotte had not dressed with any special care, for it was just Lady Catherine she was going to dine with and it would not do to pretend that her dining at Rosings was any more than an act of great charity and condescension of her Ladyship.
She was shown into a room where Lady Catherine generally held audience. It was a surprise to see that apart from Miss De Bourgh and Mrs. Jenkinson there were more people present. Lady Catherine took it upon herself to make the introductions. The elder was introduced as Mr. Edmund De Bourgh, the brother of the late Sir Lewis, and the younger man, of about twenty years of age, was his son Michael. There was something intriguing about them, but Charlotte could not quite put her finger on it.
Part 20
Lady Catherine had almost only eyes for her male guests, and Charlotte was left to converse with Mrs. Jenkinson and Anne. After dinner they all played cards, except for Charlotte and Mrs. Jenkinson. Charlotte did not mind. Mrs. Jenkinson was a friendly lady. "Have you been with Miss De Bourgh for a long time?" she asked.
"I have always superintended Miss De Bourgh's education and though Lady Catherine is of the opinion that she has been educated enough, I shall stay with her until Miss De Bourgh gets married."
"To Mr. Darcy?"
"That is Lady Catherine's wish," Mrs. Jenkinson said diplomatically.
Charlotte decided not to press Mrs. Jenkinson into being disloyal to her employer by saying she knew it was never going to happen. "The older gentleman I understand to be Lady Catherine's brother-in-law," she said instead. "Does he visit often?"
"About twice a year, I believe. He has a fine estate on the East Coast."
"His son looks to be a fine young man. Will he inherit the estate?"
"No, he has an elder brother, who is the black sheep of the family. You see," Mrs. Jenkinson lowered her voice confidentially. "He was sent to university and he must have turned out quite wild there, because afterwards he left for London to see the world, and his family hardly receive any news from him nowadays."
"Is he the one who was engaged to Anne in the first place?" Charlotte inquired.
"Yes, but it was merely a tacit agreement between the two De Bourgh brothers, which was very strange if you ask me, because Lady Catherine had a same sort of tacit agreement with Lady Anne Darcy." Mrs. Jenkinson was very glad to be able to finally discuss these matters with someone, for if she discussed anything with the housekeeper, it would surely leak out.
"Yes, that is strange indeed."
"Lady Catherine always preferred to have Anne marry into her own family, and I daresay she was right, because Mr. Henry -- I think that was his name, but I cannot be sure -- De Bourgh turned out to be a very wild young man, if we are to believe the reports."
An idea was forming in Charlotte's head, very slowly, but it was gaining more and more substance. Surely Henry De Bourgh's life story was a bit too similar to Mr. Collins's? It would have to be a very big coincidence if the two men were not connected in some way.
She looked at the other two men again. They looked familiar in some way, but she had ascribed it to their family relationship with Anne. Now she looked for signs of a connection with Mr. Collins, but superficially they did not have anything in common. Mr. Michael De Bourgh was red-haired, and his father's hair was grey. It was not until the elder moved his chair backwards and his face was lit from another angle. She saw it now. There was indeed a likeness and it affected her very much.
Fortunately she knew how to control her feelings very well and she faced Mrs. Jenkinson with composure, pushing all the questions that entered her mind into a faraway corner. Later, at home, or in the carriage she would have ample time to consider everything.
When Lady Catherine had enough of playing, Charlotte broached the subject of her departure, and her Ladyship had the carriage ordered for her.