Page 8 of Infamous Relations

Darcy paled, thinking of Jane Bennet and Elizabeth’s anger towards him on her sister’s behalf. “I do not know how I am to face Miss Bennet,” he said guiltily.

Fitzwilliam looked at him curiously, but said nothing as they walked onwards.

Chapter Six

Mr. Collins, meanwhile, had not been idle. He had briefly debated following Elizabeth out into the storm, but a few drops of rain upon his head had rapidly cooled his ardour. Instead, he walked back into the house and stood in the parlour breathing heavily for a moment, before spotting upon the floor the letter that had caused him to lose his head. Stooping heavily to pick it up, he weighed it in his hand for a moment, debating whether or not to read it.

“She should not be receiving letters from gentlemen! Disgraceful hussy!” he muttered darkly to himself, easing a finger under the already-broken seal. Flipping it back, he saw written at the bottom of the page;

God bless you, Fitzwilliam Darcy.

“Ugh!” Mr. Collins closed up the letter again, thought of casting it upon the fire. But no. No, Miss Bennet was not the only one whose shameful behaviour the letter exposed. Mr. Darcy’s actions were despicable; to cavort so with Elizabeth under the very nose of his betrothed! Poor Miss De Bourgh! Her mother would be appalled!

Yes… Lady Catherine. Lady Catherine must be apprised of this shocking turn of events as soon as possible. She would know what to do. Lady Catherine always knew how to act.

It was still raining, though. But peering from the window, he could see blue sky in the distance. The rain would stop soon. He would just wait a little longer before setting out. Indeed, perhaps Elizabeth would reconsider, would return and accept his very generous offer. She was hopelessly compromised now that he had discovered her secret, after all…

“Mr. Collins is here? Now? But I did not summon him!” Lady Catherine said, quite astounded, as her butler announced the parson’s arrival.

Anne, seated close by the fire, watched curiously as her mother seemed to waver for a moment before waving an imperious hand.

“Very well, very well, I am persuaded that the man is not so foolish as to impose himself upon me uninvited for anything less than an urgent matter. Show him in.”

A moment later, the obsequious parson was bowing and scraping before Lady Catherine. Unnoticed by the fire, Anne watched with repugnance as her mother accepted the servility as nothing more than her due. Mrs. Jenkinson had gone to visit her sister and Anne did not wish to be alone; even her mother’s company was better than none today, she had thought. And this impromptu visit promised to be entertaining, at the least.

“Do pardon me, Lady Catherine, for my unheralded visit, but there is a matter of the utmost importance that I have to bring to your ladyship’s attention,” Mr. Collins grovelled.

It was quite remarkable, Anne thought, how for a tall man Mr. Collins could contort himself so small. He bore a distinct resemblance to a toad in his current attitude. She suppressed an unladylike giggle, lest her mother be recalled to her presence and send her from the room before she heard any interesting gossip.

“Pray enlighten me, Mr. Collins, what urgent matter has caused you to see fit to disturb my morning?” Lady Catherine said frostily.

Disturb what? Anne thought. Lady Catherine had been doing nothing of note, merely flicking desultorily through a ladies’ magazine lately delivered and making disparaging remarks about how true ladies would not waste their time with such nonsense. Anne wanted to ask why Lady Catherine continued her subscription, but did not quite dare.

Mr. Collins was still grovelling, blithering on about nothing in his wordy, nonsensical way, until finally he produced a letter and offered it up to Lady Catherine.

“And what is this?” Lady Catherine said frostily, looking at the direction, “do you read your cousin’s mail, then, sir? That is rather intrusive of you…”

Anne bit her lip. She had never received a letter that her mother had not first read. Not even from Georgiana or her aunt Lady Matlock – of course, those were the only two correspondents she had. And what they could possibly say to her that her mother might take offence at, Anne could not imagine. Still, it would be nice to have a little privacy. But apparently, that was not something that young ladies might be allowed. Poor Miss Elizabeth, that Mr. Collins should insist on reading her private correspondence!

“But, your ladyship,” Mr. Collins said anxiously, “I pray you, look at the seal!”

Lady Catherine frowned at him, and turned the letter over.

Her mouth fell open, and she gaped, Anne thought, very much like a carp for several moments. And then she almost ripped the letter in her haste to unfold and read it.

It was a long letter, several pages all folded together. Anne would have loved to move closer, to see what had Lady Catherine turning first puce and then white, and then finally puce again, before taking a deep breath and addressing her parson.

“You did well to bring me this, Mr. Collins,” she said finally. “Very well. Did you read it?”

There was a note in her voice that Anne had never heard before. She did not understand it, but she did recognise the look of triumph that now suffused her mother’s features.

“I did not, your ladyship! Only – I did unfold the last page, and saw the signature…”

“You will speak of it to no one. No one, do you understand?” Lady Catherine stood and crossed the room with quick steps, throwing the letter into the fire. “No one must ever know that my nephew has been corresponding with Miss Bennet.”

“Of course, your ladyship,” Collins grovelled.

Anne was close enough to the fire to see the writing on the paper as it burned up. To recognise it as being Darcy’s firm, close-written hand, not Fitzwilliam’s loose scrawl.