Mr. Collins arrived in Kent two days after leaving Longbourn. The return trip had been much easier since the cursed heat had abated and the typical chill of November returned. However, each mile that passed gave him much regret and filled the man with trepidation.
He would never forget the look of utter devastation on his beloved’s face as he stood at the bottom of the stairs with her father before leaving without giving her so much as an apology for his betrayal. While the thought of informing his patroness of Mr. Darcy’s peril at the hands of Cousin Elizabeth had heartened him as he set out from Hertfordshire, now the fear grew in his heart.
Lady Catherine would not wish to see him married to Miss Mary if Elizabeth Bennet won Mr. Darcy’s affections! It was a terrible mess his headstrong cousin had made for all concerned.
As Rosings Park came into view, he gathered his courage and thought of how he might best present his case. He would simply tell the truth and hope Lady Catherine might be grateful enough for his interference to allow him to finally offer for the young lady he truly loved.
In moments, he stood before his patroness in her parlor with the dust of the road shaken hastily from his clothing. Upon reflection, he ought to at least have gone to the parsonage and freshened up but the news he carried was much too urgent to delay.
“Your ladyship, I offer my most sincere apologies for my appearance but I could not in good conscience delay. Tis terrible news I bring from Longbourn, news I fear that shall take you quite by surprise.”
Lady Catherine sat stiffly in her chair and cast an eye to her invalid daughter briefly before addressing her parson. “Mr. Collins, out with it before I expire from curiosity.”
The parson hesitated for he did not think it wise to speak of Mr. Darcy’s betrayal before the young mistress of Rosings. Seeing the man’s discomfort, Lady Catherine lost her patience. “Whatever you wish to divulge, Anne may hear it. Though her health is fragile she is not a weak-minded child.”
Mr. Collins bowed slightly towards Anne de Bourgh and strove mightily to maintain his composure. “No, your ladyship, she is not weak. I did not mean to suggest such a thing. It is only that my news involves Mr. Darcy, her betrothed.”
The young mistress struggled to sit up straighter in her chair and her companion moved quickly to assist her. “Mr. Collins, what news have you of my Fitzwilliam?”
Her eyes were unusually bright and Mr. Collins was certain the young lady was feverish. She often was but Lady Catherine would not abide her lying about in her rooms. For the half of each day, her presence was required in the parlor. He supposed the mistress of Rosings sought to convince herself that her daughter was truly not as ill as she appeared.
“I fear it is not good news, Miss. My cousin, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, has captured his attention and though I made an offer for her hand before one and all, she refused me in a most embarrassing exchange. Mr. Darcy himself was present with his friend Mr. Bingley.”
Lady Catherine’s cane rapped sharply against the thickly carpeted floor of her parlor as a strangled cry arose from her daughter. His patroness was no longer the energetic, lithe woman she had once been, he supposed, but her spryness as she leapt from her seat surprised Mr. Collins.
“How might the young lady refuse you? Are not her parents alive? What father would allow such insolence from a child, a daughter nonetheless? An entailment hangs over the home and she was able to dismiss you out of hand?”
Anne de Bourgh was weeping openly, her wailing a most terrible noise that made Mr. Collins struggle to hold his ground. The whole of his being wished to flee from the room. “Her eldest sister, Miss Jane Bennet, has likely married Mr. Bingley by now, your ladyship. There was no concern on Miss Elizabeth’s part, nor that of her father, for a marriage to save Longbourn.”
“Mother,” Miss Anne wailed as Mr. Collins fell silent, “you must go and bring Fitzwilliam home to me. Stop this terrible hoyden from stealing him away!”
Lady Catherine nodded to her daughter’s companion and the woman pulled the bell by the fireplace for assistance. In a moment, Lady Catherine’s own maid appeared with two others and the women whisked a howling Miss de Bourgh from the room.
Mr. Collins offered his apologies for he was quite disturbed by the emotional display. He had never once been privy to such an outburst from the young lady. “I am deeply saddened to have spoken such news before Miss Anne.”
Lady Catherine seemed not the least surprised by her daughter. “Tis nothing a dose of laudanum will not relieve Mr. Collins. I cannot blame her for her fit of despair. It is past time my nephew fulfilled his duty to this family. We shall leave for Hertfordshire as soon as my maid has packed a trunk.”
Mr. Collins had not thought he might be made to return to the scene of his embarrassment and defeat so soon. “I shall take my leave, your ladyship and return refreshed to travel with you.”
The parson turned and was hurrying to the door of the parlor when the voice of his patroness drew him up short. “There is no time for such dawdling, Mr. Collins. You may wait here with me until my trunk has been brought down. 'Tis your fault I must go and sort this mess your family has caused. Pray that my nephew has the good sense to come away from that cursed hamlet and heed my advice, otherwise you may find yourself without the living at Hunsford.”
Mr. Collins bit down on his tongue until his eyes watered from the pain. There was no need to challenge Lady Catherine after such a pronouncement. He had not only failed to save himself by delivering the news of Mr. Darcy and his cousin Elizabeth Bennet, but had nearly achieved the loss of his living and surely the chance to offer for the one lady he truly loved, his cousin Mary.