Knowing Sarah had been up quite early, Elizabeth suggested she rest if Mrs. Jones did not have need of her. Once the woman was gone, Elizabeth drew a table over to the chair and sat down to begin writing the necessary letters. First, she jotted a note to Rosings and set it aside to be delivered shortly. The second brief note would go to the closest village, requesting the clergyman there come as soon as possible. Realizing these should be sent without delay, Elizabeth rang the bell, hoping someone was available to see the letters delivered.
While she waited, she began a letter to her father. It was her hope that she would be able to return to Longbourn as quickly as could be arranged once Mr. Collins was buried. She knew Anne would suggest she remain until after her child was born, but that was at least two months away. She wanted to be home with her family about her.
She was grateful for the light tap notifying her of a servant’s presence. Mrs. Jones stepped inside, William upon her hip. “Was there aught ya needed, Mum?”
“Yes, Mrs. Jones,” Elizabeth held out the two letters. “These must be delivered at once. Can you request one of the neighbours’ boys to see to it? There should be some coin in Mr. Collins’ study drawer to pay him.” She thought she heard murmuring from the bed but ignored it.
“Yes, Mum. The young Thompson boy who’s sweet on Sarah has been stayin’ near, casin’ we need anythin’.”
“Is he the one who brought my chair upstairs?”
“Yes, Mum.”
“Be sure to give him something extra for his assistance.”
Mrs. Jones gave a crooked curtsey as she held William close. “Yes, Mum.” She turned to leave, but the babe reached toward his mother. “Now, Master William, we must leave your mama be. You’ll be seein’ her later.”
William squirmed and whimpered until Elizabeth left her seat and went to him. Taking him in her arms, she blew a kiss against his cheek and rubbed her nose against his neck. “I will join you for nuncheon, my little love, but for now you must mind Cook.”
He returned to the servant’s arms, if a bit reluctantly, and Mrs. Jones left to carry out her tasks. Elizabeth returned to her seat, sparing a passing glance at Mr. Collins who was awake and glaring at her once again.
“Do you intend to display your anger with me until you pass, sir?” She picked up her pen and began to reread what she had already written. Mr. Collins was silent, so she looked in his direction.
The anger which had filled his gaze was gone, replaced by disbelief. Elizabeth suddenly realized the apothecary had not given his prognosis to his patient. She was certain her expression matched her husband’s.
“Forgive me, sir, I did not mean to speak so irreverently. I thought Mr. Dresden …” How did one tell another person that they were dying? Elizabeth considered how she would want to be told. “When you fell, sir, you struck your neck in such a manner that you are unable to … that is, there is fluid within your lungs and … “
Mr. Collins’ expression had undergone a change as she spoke. Surprise had been replaced by fear which then gave way to irritation. He began gurgling at her which brought on a bought of choking. Elizabeth attempted to help him, but his growls and gurgles went further to making him worse than easing his discomfort. Finally, she stepped back and glared at him.
“You are going to drown in your drool if you continue in this manner, sir. You must relax!”
Though he continued to glare at her, he stopped attempting to speak and soon calmed.
“I have sent for Mr. Templeton so that he might minister to you.” She wiped the drool from the corner of his lips and returned the cloth to the bedside table. “A note was also delivered to Rosings. Is there anyone else you wish me to contact?”
He did not respond, simply stared up at the ceiling.
“Sir? Is there anyone …?”
“Puh ish.”
Elizabeth bit her lip, attempting to discern his words. When she did not respond immediately, Mr. Collins repeated the sounds a bit louder. “Parish?” she finally asked and received a grunt in response. “I am certain word has already spread, sir. It is unlikely any will come. It would be impolite to visit, and the weather keeps most inside near the warmth of their fires.”
“Speerl eedr.”
Now understanding the direction his thoughts were taking, Elizabeth nodded. “Indeed, sir, you are their spiritual leader, but it remains that society demands a family suffering in such a manner not be forced to entertain visitors during this time.” How many times over the years had she attempted to explain simple niceties, yet he always demanded they did not apply to the clergy.
“Speerl eedr!”
She crossed her arms before her and let out a huff of exasperation.
Mr. Collins’ eyes narrowed. “Seh Pee-r toe.”
“Yes,” she growled, “I know. Second Peter chapter two. I know it well after hearing you quote it all these years.”
His eyes opened wider at her admittance of lying earlier. “Jeh sbel.”
“Oh, I am a sinner, Mr. Collins; but not so bad as Jezebel, I hope.” Her heart raced, pumping her anger through her blood until her very toes and fingers tingled with it. “I have listened to your private sermons, telling me how superior you are and that I am nothing, but I am the daughter of a gentleman. What are you? Your father was an ignorant man and he raised a fool for a son. Only the chance of birth set you to gain the rank of gentleman, but even there I have bested you.”
She leaned further over the bed, meeting his heated gaze with her own. “My son will inherit Longbourn, though he is not of your blood. He is named for his father, William Darcy, and he will be the best master; far better than you could even imagine.”
Mr. Collins sputtered as his eyes turned red and she continued.
“The child within my womb is also his. You were not man enough to bring me with child, only Darcy was.”
A strangled, gurgling sounded as he attempted to respond, followed by the horrible choking. The sounds forced the worse of her rage away and she grabbed the cloth once more, attempting to assist him. This time, he would not be calmed, and the gagging grew worse. His eyes opened wider and his lips moved, but no intelligible words were heard. Elizabeth tugged the bell pull thinking he might calm if she were away from him, but a grimace twisted his features. Gurgling followed, and then all was still. Mr. Collins’ glassy eyes stared through her toward the ceiling and every muscle went limp.
Elizabeth stepped back, suddenly shocked and appalled at her behaviour toward a dying man. And one of the cloth, no less. She stumbled to the chamber pot, clutching her stomach, reaching it just before bringing up her meagre breakfast. The door opened as she ran the back of her hand across her lips.
“Oh, Mum,” she heard Mrs. Jones whisper and felt a hand upon her arm. She allowed herself to be led away, undressed, and a nightgown slipped over her head. When she was tucked into her bed, Elizabeth met the housekeeper’s gaze.
“Hush now, Mum. Sarah and I will take care of it all. Rest. You must think of the child.”
Elizabeth closed her eyes, but sleep would not come. She heard the door latch behind Cook and rolled on her side. Wrapping her arms about herself, she relived the scene in Mr. Collins’ room as if she were watching from outside herself. Had she truly said those things? Had she chosen that moment to unleash her frustration and displeasure upon a dying man? Tears covered her cheeks and wet her pillow.
“Oh God, forgive me … forgive me.” She wept bitterly until sleep found her.
*CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX*
Elizabeth stared out the window; her stitching lay forgotten beside her.
“It was kind of Lady Catherine to allow Mr. Collins’ remains be placed in the de Bourgh crypt until spring thaws the ground,” her sister Mary said to no one in particular.
“Yes,” Genie replied.
Silence filled the room once more until Mary made another attempt at conversation. “Do you think it will be much longer? I hate to think of Papa being outside in this cold for long.”
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Heat filled Elizabeth’s countenance as she finished Mary’s sentence in her mind, like Mr. Collins was.
“I am certain he will return shortly.” Genie laid a hand upon Elizabeth’s arm and patted it before returning to her work.
Again, the room fell silent.
Elizabeth truly was thankful for her father and sister making the journey from Longbourn. She was equally grateful Mrs. Bennet had not joined them. Genie’s presence was also comforting, if Elizabeth would allow herself to be comforted. If she believed she was worthy of it. She ran a hand repeatedly over her stomach.
“Will you have more tea, Lizzy?” Genie lifted the teapot and motioned toward the untouched cup sitting upon the table beside Elizabeth.
“No, thank you.” Her voice was hoarse, unused.
“Lizzy?” Mary nearly whispered her name forcing Elizabeth to look in her direction. “You must eat something.”
Her sister’s eyes pleaded with her until Elizabeth could no longer hold her gaze. “I am not hungry.”
“Enough of this, Elizabeth.” Genie placed her hand upon Elizabeth’s arm once more. “Your sister and I both know you had little affection for Mr. Collins. Why are you behaving as though you have lost your heart’s love?”
A tear crept down Elizabeth’s cheek as her throat closed. She could not tell them. She could not reveal how terrible she had been. She shook her head and stood. Her stitching fell to the floor, but she acted as though she did not see it. “Excuse me,” she choked out before fleeing from the room.
Her escape might have succeeded had she not collided with her father just outside the door. He was cold to the touch and his cheeks were a harsh red just above the area his scarf had covered.
“Lizzy!” He embraced her. “It is done, for now, my dear. Mr. Templeton assures me we need not return for the final interment.”
Elizabeth laid her head upon his shoulder as tears fell silently upon her cheeks. She allowed him to lead her back into the room where she was certain the others were watching her with concern written on their features. Once she was settled in her seat, Mr. Bennet warmed himself by the fire.
“There is nothing holding you here, my dear,” he said softly. “Are you prepared to return home?”
She nodded.
“Is there anything to which you must attend before we leave?”
Elizabeth stared at the handkerchief he had pressed into her hand when he seated her and tugged at a loose thread on one corner.
“Your things must be packed, and William’s. What will be done with Mr. Collins’ belongings?” Mr. Bennet sounded as though he spoke to a small child.
“I suppose I should keep the Collins’ family Bible,” she whispered. “There is little else I want of his. I will have Mr. Templeton disperse it to those in need.”
“Anne will not want you to go,” Genie said.
Lifting her head, Elizabeth met her friend’s eye and understood that Genie did not want her to go either. “There is nothing for me here. I wish to be at home when my baby comes.”
“I understand.” Genie nodded. “I hope Hunsford holds some pleasant memories for you, Lizzy.”
“Oh, Genie.” Elizabeth threw her arms about her friend. “You know you are dear to me. Promise me you will write.”
“Of course.” Genie hugged her tightly. “I only wish I could be with you when this babe is born, as I was with William.”
Elizabeth nodded. “I will miss you,” she whispered, and they embraced again.
When they separated, Genie forced a smile. “I shall tell mother you sent your well wishes. It is times such as these when she most dislikes being confined to our home.”
“May I call for our carriage, Mrs. Genie?” Mr. Bennet asked as he moved toward the bell pull.
“That would be much appreciated, Mr. Bennet.” Genie gathered her sewing and said her farewells to the Bennets while they waited for the carriage to be made ready.
After she left, Mr. Bennet took the seat beside Elizabeth and turned so he was able to watch her closely. “I fear your life was far worse than you revealed, Lizzy. What has become of my witty, brown-eyed girl?”
Elizabeth returned her gaze to the handkerchief and the now unravelling threads but said nothing.
Releasing an exasperated sigh, Mary stood and gathered the tea things. “I will have Mrs. Jones prepare some fresh tea for you, Papa.” She took up the tray and left the room.
“Lizzy? Dearest?” Mr. Bennet placed a finger under her chin and turned her to face him. “What weighs so heavily upon you, my child?”
The love in his eyes broke through her wall of shame and her tears flowed freely once more. “I no longer know who I am, Papa.” She threw herself into his arms, turning slightly sideways to allow for her swollen stomach.
“You have not changed, my dear. You will always be my Lizzy.” He rocked her gently. “When you return to Longbourn you will feel yourself once more.”
Unable to argue with this man who loved her so unconditionally he could not see her faults, she nodded against his shoulder. “I suppose you are correct, Papa.” She took a deep breath and added much softer, “I certainly hope you are.”
“Of course, I am. Now, make Mary feel better and take a cup of tea when she returns.” He tapped his finger against her chin as he had done when she was a little child crying over a lost toy or some other insignificant thing.
Elizabeth nodded dutifully.
***********
The Bennet carriage bounced over the ruts in the road causing Elizabeth to wince and place a hand to her lower back. The ride was nothing like Darcy’s coach, or perhaps it was simply the effect of the poor weather upon the ground. More than likely, it was her current condition which caused everything to hurt at some point.
“We are soon home, Lizzy,” Mary whispered as she reached over to rub her sister’s back.
“I will be glad to stretch my legs,” she replied as she smiled gratefully. “This little one does not care for confinement any more than I.” Elizabeth rubbed a hand over her stomach once more.
“Was William this active?” Mary asked as she smiled at the child asleep beside her father.
“No.” Elizabeth shook her head. “He was active, but not as demanding as this child. She seems to be constantly stretching or kicking. I believe she is much stronger than he was also; at least her kicks hurt more than his.”
“Each child is different,” Mr. Bennet said as he stroked William’s hair. “If I remember correctly, you were as cruel to your mother when she carried you.”
Elizabeth glanced out the window. “Perhaps this is my punishment for it.” Her words felt thick in her throat and she sighed as she leaned her head back against the squabs.
“Punishment?” Mary laughed but it sounded forced. “You are being silly, Lizzy. Why would you be held responsible for what you did as a babe in the womb?” She squeezed her sister’s hand.
Without replying, Elizabeth closed her eyes and forced herself to relax. She was on her way home, was this not what she had wanted for the past three years? It had been hard saying goodbye to Anne and Genie, but she was able to see a dawn to a new life on the horizon. Of course, she must remain in mourning for a year, but surely that time would pass quickly as she regained her strength at Longbourn. The baby kicked once more, and she rubbed a hand over the area as she wondered why she was not happier.
How can I be pleased with the death of a man? How can I be happy after the way I have behaved?
“Look, Lizzy.” Mary laid a hand upon her arm. “We are entering the village.”
Elizabeth opened her eyes to find the first few buildings of Longbourn and the church steeple rising above them. “May we stop?” she asked impulsively.
“Stop?” Mr. Bennet frowned. “We are nearly home.”
“Please, Papa.” She looked at him longingly. “It has been so long and,” she caressed her stomach, “once I arrive home, I will not be able to travel far.”
He nodded and knocked on
the roof of the carriage. They rolled to a stop and the footman opened the door. Mr. Bennet left a sleepy William rubbing his eyes upon the seat and stepped out to assist his daughter.
Once on the ground, Elizabeth turned deliberately toward the church. She was a few feet away, when a young woman with a babe on her hip approached.
“Miss Lizzy?” she asked hesitantly.
Elizabeth turned and studied her, not certain who she was for a moment. Seeing the features of the child, she was able to recognize the woman. “Betsy?” she asked tentatively.
“Yes, mum.” She curtseyed. “This here’s my youngest brother, Edward. You haven’t met him yet.” She waved the boy’s hand. “Say hello to Miss Lizzy, Eddie.”
The boy buried his face in his sister’s shoulder as Elizabeth stepped closer. “Hello, Master Edward,” she said as she dipped a slight curtsey. “I easily recognized you as a Rodgers. You are the image of your father.”
The young woman’s smile faded. “We heard of your loss, mum.” Her eyes fell to Elizabeth’s black clothing. “I hate to express such dreadful words, but we are happy you have returned. You were missed.” Her eyes widened as she leaned forward. “Not that Miss Bennet has not been attentive.” Betsy shook her head. “She is a dear, but you are simply well loved, mum.” Her voice faded away and her eyes fell to the ground as her cheeks pinked.
A smile tugged at Elizabeth’s lips, something that had not occurred in more than a week. “I understand, Betsy. I have missed all of you, as well.”
Relief suffused the woman’s features. “I had best return home. Mama will wonder where I’ve been.” She dipped another curtsey and waved as she turned away.
Elizabeth watched her go, and then turned her attention back to the church. She moved no closer as she considered what she had intended. She was not a Papist who would give confession and she could not speak aloud what she had done.
“Lizzy?” Her father’s voice broke through her thoughts. “Shall we continue home?”
“Of course.” Her head dropped and she allowed him to lead her back to the carriage.
Mrs Collins' Lover Page 34
