Pemberley

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by Kirsten Bij't Vuur


  Manners was at his most affable, which in his case was very much so. He bowed politely and waited for his mother-in-law to greet him. Aunt Catherine did not disappoint, she seemed so much less arrogant all of a sudden.

  'Mr Manners, I'm so pleased to meet you, I read in the papers that you and Anne were married but I'm glad you did me the honour of writing that kind letter. I must admit I did feel slighted. Some might say you married too quickly, but I want you to know I am very happy to see my dear daughter so well loved. Thank you, Mr Manners.'

  No officious advice? No hidden slights?

  'I am also honoured to meet you, Lady de Bourgh. Anne and I are very happy together, as we'll show the world this coming winter when we move to London.'

  More polite phrases were exchanged and they sat down together talking, whilst Anne chatted with Prince George. Georgiana gestured for Darcy to come to her at the piano, which she wouldn't have dared as little as a year ago. Now she handed him a letter and quietly spoke to him.

  'Mr Collins is here, he gave me this letter for Elizabeth and said he didn't want to come but he didn't dare tell aunt Catherine the truth either. He is with Simon in the servants' quarters, and Simon offered to bring him to you in the confidence room when you ring the bell there. He was frightened almost to death, Fitzwilliam, Mr Collins, not Simon. We'll entertain aunt Catherine for awhile, once Frederick is done charming her.'

  'Thank you for receiving aunt Catherine so nicely, Georgie, and for finding a

  neat solution for Mr Collins. I'm glad he is not in the drawing-room right now, Elizabeth would be mortified to have him meet Prince George.'

  'You already knew he was here? How? Did you see Mrs Reynolds?'

  'No, one of aunt Catherine's servants remembered Elizabeth from her visit to Mrs Collins, he told her about Collins' presence. And she told me. We'll seek him out in about ten minutes, it cannot hurt to let him stew a little. I'll hand that letter to Elizabeth straight away, thank you again, Georgie.'

  'It was my pleasure, my dear brother. I'm almost grown now, I can handle a few light responsibilities. Better go to Elizabeth, she is waiting.'

  And she was, she was probably not looking forward to dealing with her obnoxious cousin, but they would find a way to manage him. If they removed the Zumpe to headquarters maybe they could keep him upstairs, he loved Fielding's music. But Prince George did, too, after his little tour of the second floor yesterday he would certainly want to join the younger crew there. Well, Collins wasn't that smart, if Prince George sat up there whilst he and Elizabeth entertained aunt Catherine downstairs, there was the least chance of anyone discovering his true identity.

  Sitting with Mr Collins in the confidence room for what might turn into an hour altogether would not be pleasant to either of them, so Simon decided to take Mrs Darcy's cousin to the common-room. It was a bit beneath his dignity, but Mr Darcy would not appreciate having him on the loose, and at least in the servants' quarters they'd have people to talk to and and some entertainment, something was always going on in there with so many people about.

  Still feeling a little apprehensive about treating Mrs Darcy's cousin with inappropriate familiarity, Simon did it nonetheless. He was an independent man, he had a fortune, he chose to pretend to be a servant and he was not going to scrape and bow to a mere clergyman if the Prince of Wales treated him with geniality. Common courtesy would have to do.

  'This way, please, Mr Collins. Have you ever been to Pemberley?'

  'Indeed I have not, though I have wished to. I've heard the library is without equal, I would so have loved to spend some hours there browsing Mr Darcy's treasury of religious literature.'

  He didn't sound put out at all but rather pathetically relieved. He'd probably expected to be summoned to leave immediately, in utter disgrace. He might still be sent away but Simon guessed not in disgrace, Georgiana had more or

  less promised the wretch to at least fabricate an excuse if he had to go, and to help him find a place to stay. Mr Eliot would be an excellent choice, he had a near-boundless patience and Mr Collins might learn something from a truly superior minister.

  Simon longed to observe that though the current Mr Darcy kept his collection of religious works scrupulously up to date, his father and grandfather had neglected that part of the library in favour of the kind of books most people hid carefully. But of course he didn't. Instead, he invited the clergyman to seat himself comfortably on a padded bench and offered him coffee and a hearty snack, which Mr Collins did not refuse. To be polite, Simon poured himself a cup of coffee as well and had a slightly less hearty version of the pastry Cook had on offer for the servants with an appetite between meals, notably the youngsters and the stable and garden staff.

  'You're Mr Darcy's housekeeper in London, aren't you? You look different without the livery, did you get a promotion to be housekeeper here as well?'

  'I used to be Mr Darcy's valet until he promoted me to housekeeper when the butler left. But Mrs Reynolds is the housekeeper here, I left London because I changed situations, I've taken service as Mr Manners' valet. I'm here because he is staying over for the summer.'

  'But Mrs Fielding asked you to take care of me?'

  'As a kind of favour. We're friends. In London, I befriended Mr Fielding, and when he married Miss Darcy we became friends as well. A valet generally isn't a very busy servant, Mr Collins, we help our master dress twice or three times a day, then spend the rest of the day spying on the other servants or improving our own looks or conversation. As a breed we're very vain.'

  Mr Collins actually laughed at Simon's wit, and while he did that he looked much more sympathetic than Simon remembered him. Then he sobered up.

  'But you're expected to be at your master's beck and call. Isn't that rather demeaning?'

  'That depends on one's master. Fortunately I have a reputation for being very good at my job, I can choose my employer and demand some privileges others cannot.'

  'Did you change employers because Mr Darcy wasn't good to you?'

  This time, it was Simon's turn to laugh, for Mr Collins sounded a bit rueful.

  He'd certainly run headlong into the worst aspect of Mr Darcy's character.

  'Actually, no. I always loved working for him. But now he is married I suspect he will stay at Pemberley most of his time, and not need perfectly tied

  cravats and fashionable pantaloons, meaning I'd have virtually nothing to do but fight with Mrs Darcy's maid for a chance to clear away their laundry.

  Besides, I'm a city boy, I'd miss London. Mr Manners is an important man in London society and he will need my attendance every evening coming winter. I'm looking forward to it.'

  'And when you get older, or want to start a family, what will you do?'

  'I'm saving up to start my own business in London. Gentlemen's fashion, I've a real mission to improve the look of every man who can afford good quality clothing.'

  'Sadly, some of us cannot be helped, Mr Close.'

  He meant himself, poor man. He indeed wasn't a good-looking man, but some of that was his own fault. Prince George's features were only slightly more refined and he looked perfectly proper because he dressed well and took care of himself. Well, had himself cared for. Even if his finery was about a decade out of date. Though Mr Collins would never be able to afford those brocades and silks, he was free to follow fashion, which the prince wasn't, not really, though Simon thought he might do it slowly enough that no-one would notice until it was too late. But that was a foolish dream of Simon's. Still, there was certainly hope for improvement for Mr Collins.

  'Nonsense, Mr Collins, we can all dress better. Not all fashionable men have natural beauty, clothes do make the man.'

  At this point, Nick entered with Hughes in tow, the latter still a rather attractive man despite being in his forties already. He wore a livery and he did that very well, looking almost as good as Simon did himself, and he had an unconscious air of calm and self-assurance. His face was weathered but in the way of a man
ageing well, making him more attractive instead of less.

  Though Simon had known Hughes for a long time, all the ten years he'd been Mr Darcy's valet to be precise, Simon noticed only now that he and Nick had a certain stance in common, which had most likely to do with both being in charge of security.

  'Collins!' Hughes exclaimed informally, 'did you get banned from the drawing-room?'

  His voice betrayed some vexation, they seemed to be positively friendly with each other. Simon would have guessed Mr Collins to look down upon a mere staff member, but it appeared he didn't at all.

  'I'm glad not to be on the road to the village, Hughes, it's five miles. Mrs Fielding has promised she'll get me a place to stay with their minister if her

  brother refuses to let me into his house. And she said she'd lie to the mistress why I'm gone. Now don't get angry, Hughes, I did something unforgivable, Mr Darcy has every reason to be angry with me, really.'

  Mr Hughes shook his head, but accepted Mr Collins' soothing words. Nick took this opportunity to say, 'Hughes, you remember Simon, no doubt?'

  Simon took the offered hand as the tall guard replied heartily, 'I most certainly do, though he looks even smarter than he used to. I heard you've changed employers, Simon?'

  'I did, I work for Mr Manners now. He lives in the thick of public life, I love it.'

  'And so does Nick here, apparently. You are lucky fellows, a kind master, living in London at least half the time and spending the rest moving from fashionable family to fashionable family. If I were your age I'd envy you.

  Which brings me to my reason to accompany my mistress, as I've already told Nick: Dora. Frank is out of his mind about her, but she seems to prefer the life you are all leading now. Is there any chance for him to make an impression on her? If not, he'd better find out now and set his sights on some other girl.'

  'Nick knows her best, Hughes, I just know she loves her duties and being in town. Oh, and she has a really promising talent, she picks up the latest fashions instantly, she can hold her own even amongst a gaggle of London servants, and she can hold her tongue. I'm impressed with her performance, and she is improving every day.'

  'That is what I wanted to know from you, thank you. So I guess Frank's suit is rather hopeless then.'

  'Well, not if he is patient. They're both still very young, a year or two of following her mistress around from party to party may make her yearn for the quiet of the country. Or he might try his luck in town.'

  Simon really thought Dora and her admirer were rather young to plan out a future together. They could easily live their own lives and write letters for a few years, couldn't they? Until they both knew what they wanted with their lives? It was what he'd advise any youngster in love. Eric and Georgiana were the exception, they knew exactly what they wanted and they wanted exactly the same thing, but most men and women were rather different and needed some more time. Nick put Simon's sentiment in words.

  'I see no problem, Hughes. They're young, they can be in different houses and still stay in touch by writing. A lot of people do. If we can give them a few

  hours together each day for as long as your mistress resides here I suppose that is more than they were expecting to get. Dora never thought of Frank as he did of her, she has gotten used to the idea but that doesn't mean she'll love him instantly. And she has changed, she is much more self-assured than he remembers her. He may be disappointed in her.'

  Before Hughes could answer, the door opened and Mrs Reynolds entered, grumbling to herself, clearly audible to anyone close enough, which were all four of them.

  'Annoying woman, arriving without giving proper notice then complain. As if we were going to kick out someone of real consequence to please a windbag.

  Some people at least know how to be polite, he may come here unannounced any day, imagine having the p...'

  Suddenly realising there were two strangers in the common-room she shut up instantly, losing some of her unshakeable dignity to stammer, 'Oh, I wasn't expecting anyone in here at this time of the day. I'm sorry.'

  Well, she should be, she called the two men's mistress an annoying windbag, but worse, she almost betrayed the true identity of the Prince of Wales to the worst gossip alive. Mr Collins at one time had made up a story about Miss Elizabeth Bennet being about to enter an engagement with Mr Darcy, right after her sister had accepted Mr Bingley's offer. Of course it had eventually led to their union, making Mr Darcy the happiest of men, but still it had been a nasty piece of gossip that might have done quite a bit of mischief.

  Hughes actually laughed out loud.

  'Never mind, my dear lady, we've called her worse. Elderly ladies like our mistress often handle new situations badly, except I've worked for Lady Catherine for several decades and she was always like that, even when much younger still. We tend to ignore it, though Mr Collins here is still an apprentice in that art.'

  He was positively charming, and Mrs Reynolds was not insensitive to his kind words.

  'Thank you, sir. Here I am trying to teach these two scoundrels a few manners, then let myself get caught behaving inappropriately. I'll never live this down. And they're not even mine to command anymore.'

  Well, well, who would have known that Mrs Reynolds had it in her? That sounded suspiciously like a sense of humour!

  'I'm certain neither of us will ever breathe a word of what we heard. In fact, we only heard you say you'd like a cup of tea, which it will be our pleasure to

  make for you.'

  Hughes looked at Mr Collins significantly while he said this, not because he expected the man to jump up and make tea, but to make sure he'd keep his mouth shut.

  'Rupert Hughes at your service, ma'am, very pleased to meet you.'

  Nick, meanwhile, had moved to the kitchen, presumably to fetch all of them some tea.

  'Thank you, Mr Hughes, and thank you for your sense of humour. I really don't make a habit of insulting honoured guests. I'm Mrs Reynolds, the housekeeper.'

  Simon could see these two highly ranked servants had taken an instant liking to each other, and the next half hour would be very interesting for all of them.

  Maybe Mr Collins would be able to forget for a few moments that he could be summoned to Mr Darcy's study any time now.

  With Lady Catherine deep in conversation with Frederick, and Anne working and chatting with Prince George, or rather, Lord Chester, for he seemed a different man altogether, much less a charmer and more a faithful companion, Georgiana and Eric had apparently decided they could return to their own activities. And instead of providing background music, they set to serious practising, which meant playing the same few bars of music over and over again, sometimes stopping to discuss a finer point, then continuing as before.

  Frederick was as immune to the constant repetition as Fitzwilliam had ever been, and Prince George likely knew the price of true excellence. Elizabeth herself had gotten used to the constant repetition a long time ago and Anne was learning to ignore it as well, but Lady Catherine was very obviously disturbed by what could best be described as a continuous jangling noise.

  Was Georgiana doing this on purpose?

  'I think it's time for us to see to your cousin, my love,' Fitzwilliam breathed in Elizabeth's ear. He didn't seem all that put out, actually. Maybe Mr Collins still stood a chance of being allowed to stay.

  'My aunt is pleasantly engaged for now, and Lord Chester will make sure she doesn't pester Anne. A perfect time to do our duty. Besides, I'd like to have it over with.'

  'I think you are right, let us be done with it. To the confidence room then?'

  'I suppose so. Or should I have him in my study?'

  'He is probably ready to faint already, my love, please take a little pity on

  him.'

  'If he treats you with respect. If not I'll have Hugo take him to Mr Eliot, I'm sure he will be thrilled to have a confrère over.'

  Knowing Mr Eliot, he probably would. The man was almost too kind to be true, except his benevolence
was so real he very nearly shone with it. But frankly, Elizabeth preferred they'd take care of their own unwanted guests, even if that meant Fitzwilliam going back on his word. It was not as if Mr Collins would be gloating over getting a reprieve, he'd be pathetically thankful. Besides, his situation obviously hadn't changed, as far as she knew Lady Catherine hadn't asked after him once since their arrival. Didn't she find it at all peculiar that he'd disappeared? Or was she merely glad to be rid of him once in the company of her own kind? He was good enough as a companion on the road, but as soon as someone better could be had he seemed to be forgotten.

  Once in the confidence room, Fitzwilliam rang the bell to summon their unwelcome guest. A few minutes later a knock on the door announced Simon's arrival with Mr Collins, Elizabeth taking care to check Simon's face for signs of irritation over her obnoxious cousin's behaviour. It would give a hint of what was to come.

  Surprisingly enough, Simon seemed a bit concerned for his companion, that was something to take into account. It implied that Mr Collins had somehow won his sympathy. And though Simon was more easily won over than his impeccable looks suggested, so far Mr Collins had always been more likely to rile up the staff than make friends with them.

  'Is there something we need to discuss, Simon?' Fitzwilliam asked kindly.

  'If you please, Mr Darcy.'

  They still knew each other so well, no need for words between them, Fitzwilliam could see Simon had some information to share. He followed Simon out, leaving Elizabeth by herself with Mr Collins. Inadvertently remembering his pompous proposal to her that time at Netherfield, less than a year ago though it seemed ages, she was struck by the difference in his attitude. Mr Collins had not had an easy year, though it had also brought him a superior wife and a lovely baby son.

  'I'm pleased to see you looking fine, Mr Collins. Was Mrs Collins well when you left?'

  'Dear Charlotte was in perfect health, Mrs Darcy. She sent you a letter, which I gave to Mrs Fielding, since I wasn't certain how long I could stay. I wanted

 

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