Page 16 of The Fee Entail

He looked ready to leave the topic but added one last thought. “If my plans come to fruition, Wickham’s future will be much more constrained. I have neglected my duty long enough.”

I wondered why now he thought Wickham was his duty, when he did not think so after the scoundrel went after his sister well over a year ago. Perhaps last year, he was obsessed with protecting his sister, so was constrained in his actions. I had to admit I might have acted the same way given the same provocation. After all, I assume my family made no attempt to warn the people of Brighton. Just like Mr Darcy, they would have done everything within their power to keep it quiet so as not to affect my sisters’ marriage prospects and let the citizens of Brighton fend for themselves. I did wish he had seen fit to warn us, though, particularly when he had the chance at the ball, but there was no changing the past.

The question of Mr Wickham diverted Mr Darcy from our original discussion of my plans for the future, and I had no idea if that was for the best or not. I was feeling exhausted and thought it was time to bid him adieu but was strangely reluctant to do so. I still had one question to answer for him but thought perhaps the next day might be a better time.

He looked like he was not quite ready to revert to the earlier discussion when we were somewhat rudely interrupted.

THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!

I assumed it must be an express rider and feared what the message would contain. Perhaps Bennet did not even survive the trip back to Longbourn, or he changed the terms of our bargain. Of course, it could also just be Lady Catherine looking for her wayward nephew, but that idea seemed far-fetched. She would just send a footman.

There was only one way to find out, so I moved the port glasses out of sight, and signalled Mr Darcy with a nod to either leave through the kitchen or go upstairs through the quilts. His curiosity apparently got the better of him, as he chose the latter, and I went to open the door.

Wayward

Lady Catherine

I beat on the door of the infernal parsonage with sufficient heft to let Mrs Collins know I was not to be trifled with. I really did not understand that woman. She spent a year half a mile from my home, yet visited Rosings barely half a dozen times, and paid not the slightest attention to any of my very thoughtful and excellent advice. She was a headstrong and stubborn girl—that is what she was.

I assumed she must also be quite the shrew, as Mr Collins never really seemed himself after he married. He was only half a man in the first place, and after a few months of marriage, he diminished even further, perhaps to a quarter man. When the fever came for him, it was just taking the shell that was left, and I doubted the woman would really miss him when he was gone. She had not even done her duty in producing an heir, despite nearly a year of marriage. Yes, there was definitely something very wrong with Mrs Elizabeth Collins.

The door opened, and I barely managed to keep my countenance. Most of the parsonage was dark, and the lady of the house opened the door personally. Where were her servants? Mr Collins was in possession of a perfectly good living, so why was she answering the door personally? It was most peculiar, but in a moment, I began to see that she was simply ensuring that I was shown the proper deference as patroness. Most likely, she did not trust her servants to perform the office adequately, as they would have very little cause to learn the finer points of etiquette, and might not have the vaguest idea how to behave with a woman of my station. Yes, that perfectly well explained it.

Mrs Collins at least knew what she was about, as she greeted me with all the appropriate civility of bearing, if not the proper attire. She looked more like a goodwife than a lady, but her dress was immaculately clean and well pressed, and her hair was done properly. Perhaps she wished to maintain the distinctions of rank, which was in her favour.

Her greeting was one of surprise and pleasure, which was hardly unexpected considering I was condescending to visit her humble abode.

“Lady Catherine! How good of you to visit! What an unexpected honour! Pray, come in! I am very happy you condescended to visit.”

Her curtsey and bearing left nothing to be desired, so there was nothing to criticise save the deplorable lack of servants. Obviously, we were not to have a conference in the hall, and since she took the duty of greeting me, she also took the task of leading me into the very small parlour.

I was astounded as I entered to see the dining room dark and the stairway blocked by quilts. What a peculiar state of affairs. I determined to get to the bottom of things sooner or later, but for the moment, I sought to reply to her greeting, but she was already performing the next office.

“May I assist with your wrap?”

This was again singular, but perhaps she did not trust her servants to properly care for my clothing. Her care for my person and my property was to her credit, but her inability to manage servants was not. I determined to offer assistance at a later time.

I replied more curtly than her greeting called for, but I was vexed and wanted to get my purpose served as soon as might be done. “No, you may not! I am looking for my nephew.”

The lady of the house astounded me by giving the brightest and pleasantest smile I had ever seen grace her face.

“I thank you for the compliment. It makes me very happy! Very happy indeed! I am truly honoured!”

What in the world was she going on about? How could asking for my nephew be considered a compliment? Perhaps she was not a shrew. Perhaps she was touched in the head… or French.

I looked her over carefully, but seeing no malice or disrespect, I answered with my usual frankness.

“I have not the pleasure of understanding you. To which compliment do you refer?”

“That you find my company worthy of your nephew, of course! I would never have presumed you would approve of your nephew calling on me, but I am most gratified to find that you do. Perhaps I should invite him to supper tomorrow… no, wait, that would be too soon. It must be Friday if I am to have a meal that is worthy. Of course, you should come as well… and bring Miss de Bourgh. That will be wonderful! I can just imagine it now! I have never had such distinguished guests, and of course, I have been hoping to ask your advice on a particular matter, so it will all turn out as it should! Yes, Friday will do nicely. Would six o’clock be convenient?”

Getting more confused by the minute, or perhaps becoming more exposed to her malady, I gave her my most imperious stare, showing I was not to be trifled with. “What do you mean, implying that I approve of my nephew calling on you?”

The lady paused not at all, looking perhaps sane but a touch disturbed. “Pardon me! Perhaps I overestimate your nephew’s complaisance! I could not dream any nephew of yours would do something you disapprove of whilst residing in your own home, but perhaps I am wrong.”

What was this? To imply such a thing was anathema, and I let her know forthwith. “Of course not! You are absolutely correct. My nephews are most affectionate and respectful! They are the very best of men, and they esteem me exceedingly. They would not dare tempt my displeasure, but of course, they never would do anything out of sorts anyway.”

She smiled even more broadly, if possible. “There you have it then! If you disapproved of your nephew calling on the parsonage, you would not be here looking for him, as it would be impossible for him to contravene your wishes. Since you are here, you must approve. It is simple deduction, really, and I must say your approbation is very much appreciated, but of course, with all due humility!”