Page 12 of Infamous Relations

“Madam, do not think that you will find an ally in my father if you seek to remove Georgiana from her brother’s custody. He is well aware of the – situation – and fully supportive of our actions in the matter. And if you should attempt to blackmail Darcy in this matter by threatening to destroy Georgiana’s reputation, know one thing.” He loomed over her, glaring straight into her eyes. “If you do, I will see you ruined. I will have you consigned to Bedlam. And do not think that I cannot, madam. Darcy and I have friends in very high circles.”

Darcy had been standing, quietly putting puzzle pieces together in his mind, and finally spoke up.

“There is only one possible way in which you could have come into possession of this information, Lady Catherine,” he said in a quiet, yet lethal tone. “How did you gain sight of my letter?”

“Letter? What letter?” Colonel Fitzwilliam gave him a confused look.

“I wrote Elizabeth a letter, explaining certain things, including my animosity for Wickham. She has met him, you see, and been inveigled into believing his side of the story…”

“She’s whoring herself for a steward’s son, too, and still you want to defend her? You shared the news of Georgiana’s disaster with such a person?” Lady Catherine harrumphed.

“Lady Catherine, I have never in my life struck a woman. That record may be blemished unless you tell me, right now, how you came to have sight of that letter – and where it is now?” Darcy clenched his jaw with rage.

“She burned it,” Anne said helpfully, when Lady Catherine did not seem inclined to speak. “Mr. Collins gave it to her.”

“And how did he come into possession of it?” Fitzwilliam looked at Darcy, who could only shake his head.

“Thank you, Anne. Lady Catherine, I take no leave of you. After your actions this day, you deserve none. Come, Richard. We shall depart today, instead of tomorrow: I daresay our bags are still mostly packed. Your pardon, Anne, but I cannot stay another night under a roof where Lady Catherine believes herself to be in authority. We shall put up at the Inn in Sevenoaks for tonight; we should be there by dinnertime and we can come to the Parsonage tomorrow to check on Miss Elizabeth and see if we may offer her any assistance.”

“As always, I am at your disposal, cousin,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said dryly, but he was quite in agreement with Darcy. They both bowed over Anne’s hand and walked out of the room without acknowledging Lady Catherine, who scowled, enraged at being thwarted, but could not think of anything to say.

In the end, she shouted at the door as it closed behind them; “I am most seriously displeased!”

The door opened again, and Darcy looked back at her. “Frankly, dear Aunt, I don’t give a damn.”

Chapter Nine

Hurrying away from Rosings, Mr. Collins was in a dilemma. He had to obey Lady Catherine’s directive, of course. Elizabeth must be gone from his house, as soon as possible. He did not want her there, indeed not, the ungrateful wretch! He had best confront her as soon as possible, order her gone from his house directly.

The only problem was, what if Elizabeth should say something to Charlotte? He wrung his hands anxiously, feeling a cold sweat spring up on the back of his neck. Outside of his own volition, his steps slowed, and he diverted onto a path which would take almost twice as long to return him to the parsonage. He needed time to think.

On his eventual return to the parsonage, Mr. Collins was most annoyed to find the front door standing wide open and unattended. “What is this!” he cried in annoyance, but there was no one there to hear him. Shedding his coat and hat, he checked swiftly in the parlour and in his study; finding them unoccupied, he proceeded up the stairs and encountered Charlotte coming out of Elizabeth’s room.

“Where is Miss Bennet?” he snapped, panicking instantly that the two ladies should have been talking to each other.

Charlotte shook her head. “It is too awful, husband! Poor Lizzy took a fall while out on her walk, fell into the stream and hit her head.”

Mr. Collins’ mouth gaped wide. For one blissful moment he thought Charlotte was about to tell him Elizabeth had died – then all his troubles should be over, and Lady Catherine would be quite pleased, indeed – but she continued.

“She lies unconscious yet; Dr. Trent has been to Rosings to fetch some ice for her poor head, you have just missed him, and Maria is next door helping his housekeeper make up an ointment for her wounds.”

“But,” Mr. Collins said after a moment of attempting to gather his scattered wits, “this cannot be! She has to leave, at once! Lady Catherine has commanded it!”

Charlotte stared at him, her eyes narrowing. “Mr. Collins, what Lady Catherine commands is neither here nor there in this situation. Did you not hear me? Elizabeth is gravely wounded. She cannot be moved.”

Angered and frustrated, Mr. Collins actually stamped his foot like a petulant child. “She has behaved disgracefully; Lady Catherine has decreed that she cannot stay a moment longer! I must insist that you pack her bags at once!”

“I will not!” Charlotte folded her arms and glared at him. “This is unChristian behaviour, Mr. Collins! You cannot demand such a thing!”

“I will not have her beneath my roof!” Mr. Collins shouted. “I cannot sleep in the same house as that woman any longer!”

“Mr. Collins,” Charlotte said icily, “in that case, you had best pack your own bag. If you are unable to find rest in the same house as someone of whom Lady Catherine so heartily disapproves, then I recommend you find somewhere else to spend the night. No doubt Lady Catherine will be able to find a bed for you at Rosings.”

Shocked and furious as Charlotte turned her back on him, Mr. Collins stormed away, going into his room and slamming the door in a huff.

Incredulous, Charlotte returned to Elizabeth’s side, checking the ice wrapped in cloth upon her brow. “Fool of a man,” she muttered under her breath, sitting down and taking Elizabeth’s hand in hers. After a long few moments, Charlotte sighed. “I will take care of you, Lizzy,” she promised finally. “No matter what.”

About half an hour later, there was a tap at the door. Charlotte got up wearily and went to see who it was, hoping for Maria returning. She was in desperate need of a cup of tea, and the promised help from Rosings had not yet arrived.