Charlotte

by Linda Phelps

  “I hope my cousin—that is—Elizabeth Bennet obliged you at once,” said Mr. Collins.

  “Hardly that. First, she pretended to have no knowledge of the rumour, although, as I pointed out, surely she and her family were the ones who put it abroad.”

  “I believe it was my sister Maria who first imagined an attachment between Mr. Darcy and my friend,” said Charlotte, eyes downcast to hide her pleasure in this conversation. “Mr. Darcy called almost daily at the rectory, you know, and they were often known to be walking together. Maria drew a conclusion from what she saw.”

  “I did not know,” said Lady Catherine. “Mr. Collins, why did you not report this to me?”

  Mr. Collins, unprepared for this attack, fumbled for words. “Indeed, Lady Catherine, I did not myself know of it. You will appreciate that my duties take up much of my time. I wonder my wife did not keep me better apprised of the situation.”

  Lady Catherine turned her gaze on Charlotte. “Mrs. Collins, since you were aware of the questionable characters of your friend, I think you very ungrateful not to have made me aware of the wiles she was using to lure my nephew into her snare.”

  “I am sorry, Lady Catherine, but from the moment they met, when Elizabeth spoke of Mr. Darcy to me, it was with a certain amount of contempt. Mr. Darcy was quite rude to her when they first met, and from that time, having only her remarks with which to judge their relationship, I was certain that they disliked each other. That they would form an attachment was the last thing I could have expected.”

  As Charlotte had hoped, Lady Catherine was taken aback by this suggestion of improper breeding on the part of her favorite nephew. After a moment she said, “That is further proof that she has schemed to attach him. He should have maintained his first impression, for it was accurate. And she attempted to trifle with me, but I was easily able to see through her. From the time she first entered this drawing room until the day she left your house, I felt reservations about her. I wished from the beginning that she would not stay here so long.”

  “Tell them what Miss Elizabeth said when you reminded her that Mr. Darcy and I were engaged,” said Lady Anne. She sat slightly behind her mother, so only Charlotte could see how her eyes danced.

  “A further outrage. The obstinate girl admitted to knowledge of the engagement but refused, outright refused to promise that she would reject any offer from Darcy on that account. I pointed out to her that she owed me a certain amount of gratitude for the ways I had accepted her into my home last spring, but that reminder did not move her. Then I brought to her attention the immorality of attempting to marry above her station.”

  “I hope she admitted the righteousness of your chastisement,” said Mr. Collins.

  “No, Mr. Collins, she did not. She made it clear to me that she thinks herself the social equal of Darcy, using as an argument the fact that her father is a gentleman. How even such a devious girl can make this comparison is beyond my understanding. The idea is altogether outrageous. She has no fortune, no respectable family connections. The match is entirely unsuitable.”

  “You are in the right,” applauded Mr. Collins. “She has certainly ventured beyond her station. I am in sorrow that you had to listen to her ideas. She was indeed insolent.”

  “I warned that if she were to marry Darcy she would find no friends. Those who care for him, and there are many, would censure, slight, and despise her. She would be isolated from decent society. And she professed to consider these misfortunes as being of a trifling nature. She is shameless.”

  Charlotte, still not daring to look up, asked “And did you receive a promise from her that she will not enter into a relationship with Mr. Darcy?”

  “I did not, Mrs. Collins. The headstrong girl refused to give me that satisfaction. I did, however, force her to admit that she is not engaged to my nephew. That was my only solace.”

  “But recall, Madam, that she did not give you her promise that she would refuse an offer from Darcy if it were tendered,” said Lady Anne. Charlotte hoped that only she could detect the delight in the girl’s voice. She was rid of the threat of marrying her cousin Darcy, with the added pleasure of knowing that her mother had for once been bested.

  “It was not to be borne. I went directly to my coach. She and her entire family will recognize my disapproval by the fact that I did not send compliments or farewells to any of them.”

  Charlotte wanted very much to ask if Lady Catherine had accosted Mr. Darcy on the matter, but she did not dare. She would discover whatever Lady Anne knew in a day or two, when they could meet privately. That Lady Anne delighted in this tale of thwarted love was without question.

  She formed a suspicion when Lady Catherine called for candles and led them upstairs to the ballroom of Rosings. “As you know, I am considering a ball for Anne. Anne is in better health than she has been for some time. She should meet the people of the neighbourhood, and I will, of course, invite the most eminent men within some fifty miles and their sons. And daughters. Tell me, Mr. Collins, what do you think of the dimensions of the room? Will it serve? There has not been a ball here since Lord de Bourgh died. I do not recall the details of that occasion, how it was arranged. I am sure that the musicians performed there, at that end of the room, and that there were potted palms to screen them from the dancers.”

  “I am overwhelmed,” said Mr. Collins. “As I told you earlier, I have not in my life seen a handsomer, more well appointed room for such a purpose. All who attend will be delighted.”

  “It will require dozens of candles,” Lady Catherine said, “and of course food and drink, and this room here will be a delight for those wishing to play at cards rather than dance. Do you dance, Mrs. Collins?”

  “When I have the opportunity, Lady Catherine. I am fond of dancing.”

  “You and Mr. Collins can dance and recall your courtship,” said Lady Anne. “It will be so romantic”

  Charlotte remembered the clumsy way her husband had accompanied her at the Netherfield ball. It was not an experience she was eager to repeat. “We will see if I am in a condition to dance then. When is the ball to be?”

  “Soon. Most gentlemen are in the country this time of year in order to hunt. We must have them here before they go to town for the winter.”

  “I have doubt that anyone would stay in town with the prospect of a ball at Rosings,” said Mr. Collins, “with a hostess renowned for her gracious hospitality, and a handsome daughter dressed in the finest raiment. It will be the event of the season.”

  “It is now October,” said Lady Catherine. “I think it can all be done in two or three weeks. We must discover when next the moon is full and extend our hospitality on that night. I give that task to you, Mr. Collins, and hope to be informed of the date no later than tomorrow. The servants will have to prepare several of the bed chambers for guests who plan to stay for a few days, and the punch, and—Mrs. Jenkinson, make note of what I am saying. I cannot be expected to recall all my plans without a reminder. Mr. Collins, you must determine the number of chairs we will place around the room, and the number that will be needed at the tables for supper. The dining room will seat twenty people comfortably, but we will need more places than that. Mr. Collins, I charge you with determining where they should be placed.”

  Charlotte listened with half an ear. She found standing in this fashion to be very uncomfortable and clutching her husband’s arm she whispered, “I must sit. Please find me a chair.”

  Mr. Collins, wholly engrossed by his new responsibilities, pulled away. He began to pace the room, measuring its length. “I believe, Lady Catherine, that two rows of thirty chairs can be placed against this wall,” he called. Then realizing that he received no answer, he turned to see the assembled women bent over his wife who lay on the floor.

  Chapter Seven

  “MRS. COLLINS!”

  Charlotte woke to the urgent whisper. Her face felt damp and cold. She reached up and discovered a wet cloth on her forehead. Irritably she flung it from h
er. When she opened her eyes, Lady Anne had retrieved it and was attempting to replace it. “I beg you, don’t do that,” Charlotte said. She sat up in the elegant bed where she had spent the night. “I am entirely well.” She swung her legs to the floor, but her attempt to stand was not quite successful.

  “You’ve been ill,” said Lady Anne. “Don’t you recall? You must rest.”

  “Of course I recall,” said Charlotte. “I fainted for a moment. Then Lady Catherine refused to let me return to my home. She insisted I stay in this room until I was well. It was really silly of her to do so.”

  “You were quite pale,” said Lady Anne. “It was as if you were a heroine. They often faint, you know.”

  This remark made Charlotte smile. “I do not believe they faint from the same cause as mine. I am no heroine, and at present I feel quite well. Perhaps a bit of breakfast, and then I will return to the rectory. There are things I must tend to.”

  “Oh, not yet!” cried Lady Anne. “I have arranged that you will have a tray in a few moments. I am so happy you fainted. Now I have a chance to speak to you privately.”

  “I am delighted that I pleased you,” said Charlotte, “but do not expect me to oblige you in that fashion again.” This time she stood with no difficulty. The bedroom in which she had spent the night looked even more magnificent in the light of the day. Charlotte considered how much her husband would have would have delighted in a night spent in such a room. He would have an entirely new area of Rosings to praise.

  Now he knew how one received such an invitation.

  “I want you to tell me about Miss Elizabeth and my cousin Darcy. Do you think they are in love? Do you think they will marry despite my mother’s displeasure?”

  A maid came in with a tray from which came savoury smells. Charlotte went to the table and began to eat. “How can I know, Lady Anne? I have not had a word from Lizzy on this topic. I am sure she would have written me immediately were they engaged.”

  “It is so like a novel!” cried Lady Anne. “They have been forbidden to marry, and yet their feelings for each other cannot be denied.”

  “I do not think it is possible in this age to forbid a couple to marry. Why should they not?”

  “My mother thinks Miss Elizabeth is tainted by the behavior of her younger sister, but I think their behavior illustrates the depth of the love for each other. They will live happily.”

  “Perhaps,” said Charlotte. “Perhaps not. Lack of money is likely to be a problem for them.”

  “Just as it would be should my cousin Fitzwilliam and I run off to be together. We would be very poor, but when there is such love between us we would not care!”

  Charlotte took a gulp of steaming tea. “Now, Lady Anne, I hope you have no plan to do anything as unseemly as what was done by Mr. Wickham and Lydia Bennet. They are not in the least admired for their actions.”

  Lady Anne turned a dreaming face to the ceiling. “Who can say what will happen?”

  “Colonel Fitzwilliam would certainly not displease Lady Catherine on this matter, and you must remember your mother expressing herself on how such a wayward daughter should be treated by her family. Banished forever, that’s what she said.”

  “I would not care if I had my cousin’s, love” said Lady Anne. “I would need nothing more for happiness.”

  “Has he said something to you, made a plan?” asked Charlotte.

  “Perhaps,” said Lady Anne, but although I love you, I do not trust you enough to tell you of any plan. You are so correct that you would likely tell Mr. Collins who would surely tell my mother. It is better for you not to know.”

  Charlotte shook her head. This complication was the one thing she regretted about her dalliance with Colonel Fitzwilliam. She was well and truly trapped into silence, when her responsibility was to prevent Lady Anne from doing anything she might later regret. “Do not act with haste, Lady Anne. I advise you to be sensible.”

  “Oh, Mrs. Collins! Think back. Were you sensible when you met and fell in love with Mr. Collins? Would the disapproval of your father have kept you from marrying the man you cherished? Would you not have entered joyfully into a clandestine correspondence and made plans to run off with him?”

  Charlotte thought for a moment. “Our marriage was more one of convenience for both parties,” she said. “No one could write a novel about it.”

  “But you met at a ball, did you not? Mr. Collins saw you from across the room, came and bowed before you and took possession of your hand to lead you to the floor. From that moment you and he knew you were destined to spend your lives together.”

  “It was not quite like that,” said Charlotte. “However, that is exactly how you might meet the man you will marry. Think about the ball that Lady Catherine will hold. There will be many excellent young men there with whom you may dance. It is possible to love more than once, you know.”

  “You are teasing me,” said Lady Anne.

  “One question, if I may,” said Charlotte. “Are you aware of whether Lady Catherine has communicated with Mr. Darcy?”

  “Indeed I do not know the details, but she has spoken to him and she was displeased with his response. I believe he told her that he loved Miss Elizabeth beyond any creature on earth, that she was the most clever, the most beautiful woman who ever existed, and that he would not live without her.”

  “I see,” said Charlotte. “Why do you think that?”

  “Because she was so angry when she returned home. She spoke of him more disrespectfully than I have ever heard her do before.”

  “She was distressed that he did not wish to marry you,” said Charlotte.”

  “Yes, but she remains unaware that I do not wish to marry him. My heart is not broken by his defection. My mother has ordered a carriage to take you home. I would prefer that you stay, but she says that is not proper at such a time. You must be home. Shall I call the maid to help you dress?

  Charlotte waved her away. As she washed and put on her clothes she memorized the furnishings of the room so as to describe them to her husband. Such details would prevent him asking questions about anything she had done or said in his absence.

  Mr. Collins, while relishing her description of the bed chamber he had never seen, was largely occupied with thoughts of Lady Catherine. “How she suffers,” said he. “Such a generous, good-hearted women to be denied her wish to her see her daughter well married to a man of the quality of Mr. Darcy. How unpleasant for her to be rebuffed by. Elizabeth Bennet. What can my cousin hope to gain by such disobedience and disrespect?”

  “Perhaps she hopes to gain marriage with a man she admires and who admires her,” said Charlotte.

  With a wisdom he could not have shown in the early days of their marriage, Mr. Collins turned to a discussion of the forthcoming ball. He had been given the responsibility of writing the invitations to those guests who were at a distance. For several days that occupation consumed him beyond any other.

  There was a hint of winter in the morning air when Charlotte feed her flock. They ate eagerly, perhaps anticipating a time when they would be entirely dependent on her for sustenance. She promised them that the lack of insects and worms in their diet would be well compensated by grain and skimmed milk.

  At the sound of running feet, she turned to see Nancy gesturing to her. “Come quick, Mrs. Collins! The master is all in a state!”

  Charlotte ran clumsily back to the house. “What is it?” she called. “What has happened?”

  He thrust a piece of paper at her. “A letter from my uncle!” he said “I must give comfort to Lady Catherine.” He left her with the piece of paper in her hand.

  Dear Sit,

  I must trouble you once more for congratulations. Elizabeth will soon be the wife of Mr. Darcy. Console Lady Catherine as well as you can, but if I were you, I would stand by the nephew. He has more to give.

  Charlotte’s delight at this news could not be contained. She laughed with joy. Nancy ran from the kitchen. “Mrs. Collins, are you
ill?”

  “On the contrary. I have had some wonderful news, Nancy. My friend Elizabeth is engaged to marry Mr. Darcy. Isn’t that fine?”

  Nancy looked pleased. “I wondered if it might come to that, what with them spending so much of their time together at Easter. They have both chose well, in my opinion. It’s a good match.”

  “I couldn’t agree more,” said Charlotte.

  “And this means that my Lady Anne won’t be bothered again by Lady Catherine trying to convince her to marry Mr. Darcy herself. She never much liked the idea. But we both know why, don’t we?”

  “I believe we do,” agreed Charlotte. What had Mr. Bennet meant when he advised Mr. Collins to “stand by the nephew”? Was he suggesting that Mr. Darcy had more patronage to dispose of than had Lady Catherine? Immediately Charlotte imagined a rectory, rather larger and more modern than the one they presently inhabited, on the grounds of Pemberly, where she and Elizabeth could be in daily contact as they had been in the past.

  How was Lady Catherine accepting this news? It was possible that she had never before been faced with defiance to one of her wishes. Charlotte felt a need to celebrate. “Nancy, do you know that brown hen, the one who pecks all the others? I think it is time she became the base for a ragout. Will

  you dispatch her?”

  “With pleasure, madam,” said Nancy, smiling. “I’ll fetch the axe immediately.”

  Mr. Collins returned in a state of agitation just as the sun set. “She wants you, Mrs. Collins,” he gasped. “She is extraordinarily angry. She demands that you come.”

  “Lady Catherine?” asked Charlotte. “What does she want with me?”

  “She believes—no, I will let her tell you herself. We must make haste.”

  “I will not make haste, husband. It is time for us to dine. I will not leave this house until we have done so.”