Page 36 of Infamous Relations

“Lizzy, Charlotte?” a small voice said. “Whatever is going on?”

They both looked up and startled with horror to see Maria, Charlotte’s sister, standing wide-eyed at the door, staring at them.

Chapter Twenty-Four

“Maria,” Mr. Bennet said behind her then, and Elizabeth sighed with relief as her father, face drawn with shock, nevertheless put a gentle hand on the shoulder of the younger girl and gently pushed her forward. “I am so sorry, but we have some quite dreadful news.”

Charlotte had grabbed a shawl from the back of the sofa as Maria looked away, hastily swathed it around her chest and neck to conceal her bruising. One glance at Elizabeth and it was silently communicated between the two; Maria never, ever needed to know the truth of what had happened here.

“Sit down,” Mr. Bennet said quite gently, to Maria, and then to Jane when she came back in, the tea tray in her hands.

“Papa, whatever has happened now?” Jane said a little plaintively, but she set the tray down and seated herself.

The front door closed again just then, and Elizabeth, closest to the window, looked out to see Darcy, the doctor and Mr. Gardiner hurrying down the path. Something terrible has happened, she thought, and looked back at her father just as he began to speak.

“I am very sorry to have to be the bearer of such news, Mrs. Collins,” Mr. Bennet said, and his voice was very gentle. “Mr. Collins has met with a most terrible accident.”

Charlotte just stared at him. Jane and Elizabeth looked at each other. Maria was the only one who reacted in a manner that Mr. Bennet, ignorant of Mr. Collins’ crimes, thought appropriate. She put her hands to her mouth and let out a horrified cry.

“Oh, no! Oh, my poor brother! Say it is not so!”

“I am so sorry, my poor dear,” Mr. Bennet, unnerved by the silent staring of the other three, turned to Maria in some relief. “It appears that he was on his way to Rosings in some haste when he startled Lady Catherine de Bourgh’s carriage horses. He - did not suffer.”

“Lady Catherine?” Elizabeth asked, startled.

“Yes, the carriage overturned, it must have been quite a collision. Lady Catherine and her companion, a lady named Mrs. Johnson I believe…”

“Mrs. Jenkinson,” Elizabeth corrected.

“Mrs. Jenkinson,” Mr. Bennet gave her a stern look, “have both tragically perished also.”

Charlotte began to cough, covered her face with the shawl. Elizabeth hastily attended to her, found to her shock that Charlotte was actually laughing hysterically even as tears streamed down her cheeks. Maria was crying too, great gulping sobs of real grief.

Jane looked at her father and saw him beginning to hastily retreat, which she thought was probably the best possible thing for him to do, in the circumstances. “Why don’t you go to the library and pen a letter to Mama,” she suggested to him quickly, “I will tend to Maria and Lizzy will stay with Charlotte…” Hastily she urged him from the room, wrapped her arm around Maria’s shoulders and led her out.

“Charlotte, please, you must stop,” Elizabeth begged. “This cannot be good for your throat.” She patted gently at her friend’s back, not at all sure what to say to her as Charlotte choked and wheezed, patting at her eyes with the shawl. “Let me pour you some tea, you must try to take a sip!” She added several spoonfuls of honey, despite knowing Charlotte would despise the over-sweetness; the honey would soothe her throat.

It was several minutes before Charlotte was able to stop her hysterics and calm herself, taking sips of the tea as Elizabeth held the cup.

“Thank you, darling Lizzy,” Charlotte whispered at last, leaning back exhausted.

“You must rest. This is all so… so…” Elizabeth couldn’t think of a word that even began to describe the events of the last few days. “Overwhelming,” she settled for at last, “but you’ve been hurt. I know how frightened for your health Dr. Trent is. You must rest.”

“You too, dear one,” Charlotte tugged gently on her hand. “Come sit with me.”

“Do not try to talk, then,” Elizabeth admonished, and Charlotte nodded. Elizabeth sat down beside her and they waited in silence, Charlotte’s head resting on Elizabeth’s shoulder, both wondering what the outcome would be from the day’s extraordinary events.

Anne’s reaction was not at all what Fitzwilliam might have expected, when he made her sit down and gently broke it to her that Lady Catherine had been killed, along with Mrs. Jenkinson and Mr. Collins. She just stared at him silent for several long minutes, her eyes dark, before nodding.

“I understand. Thank you.”

“Anne?” Fitzwilliam said, puzzled. “Your mother…”

“Do you expect me to weep and wail and gnash my teeth with grief? I am afraid I will not do that, cousin. My mother was not a good person, and I will cry no crocodile tears for her. Her death sets me free, for the first time in my life.”

Anne looked as though a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders, he realised. She smiled at him, her eyes bright. “I will play the suitably grieving daughter in public, of course; I cannot bring shame upon the family, but cannot you be at least a little happy for me, Fitzwilliam?”

“Dear one,” he said fondly, crossing the room and kneeling to take her hands in his, “to see that smile on your face, I would have gladly slain her myself, the old dragon.”