Page 59 of The Next Mrs Bennet


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Collins had taken it as a great compliment when the two men had gone among those in the parish to confirm how pleased and impressed they were with him as their spiritual guide. When he had invited them to join him in praying for his cousin’s demise, they had demurred.

The two men had departed the previous day, and now he had one last service to deliver in an hour, and he would depart on Wednesday at first light so he would arrive at four o’clock as he stated in the letter. Lady Catherine demanded punctuality, and he could do nothing less. He looked over the sermon he would preach at the Sunday church service. How privileged his congregation was to hear Lady Catherine’s pearls of wisdom on the importance of the distinction of rank and how much deference she was owed by all who were below her in the area.

Collins hoped his cousin’s daughters were comely. It would not do to marry a homely woman; his father had been very clear on that point. Like many other things, his father had beaten that knowledge into Collins’s head.

~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~

By the second day of their travel towards Scarborough, Bingley had ceased using his own name after being refused entry to some of the inns along the Great North Road. It highlighted for him the reach of those he and his sister had angered.

He was Arthur Medford—his late father’s familiar name and his late mother’s maiden name. From the time he employed the fake name, there were no more refusals for meals or nights atinns. At least his sister had gone along with the ruse after being shocked at the long arms of the Devonshires’ reach, as well as the speed at which it had travelled this far already, almost like a raging wildfire, consuming everything in its path.

With the Duke’s words being proved true at every turn, even in the countryside, Bingley resolved to begin planning to leave the realm. He was more than sure that Caroline would not want to join him—at least he hoped that was so.

To make a new start in the Americas—which was where he desired to be— he was certain he could not do so with the millstone of Caroline around his neck.

Chapter 24

Collins had expected a small to medium-sized estate, but they had travelled far more distance from the gateposts than one did when they entered Rosings Park. He would be late because of the much longer than expected drive to reach his future home. Being tardy was something his all-powerful patroness would never countenance.

He had arrived in the lane outside of the estate’s gates before three o’clock, so he had instructed the driver of the rented gig to wait until five minutes before the hour of four to complete the journey.

Now here he was, and it was already past the hour at which he had stated he would arrive. As much as Collins was aware Lady Catherine wanted to know all, he did not think it would cause any harm if he withheld the information that he had not arrived at Longbourn on time.

The further he rode into the estate, seeing the large park, the more he calculated what his soon-to-be estate was worth. When the driver guided his horse around a turn in the drive and the house came into view, Collins’s mouth dropped open. Rather than the modest manor house his father had described to him, before him rose up an edifice that rivalled the mansion at Rosings Park in size. In fact, the one he was seeing was more than likely larger. God had been very good to him to ordain that he would be the future owner of all of the wealth he saw around him.

One thing Collins was certain of was that he could not describe the truth of his estate to the great lady. Lady Catherine would be seriously displeased if he was to own an estate that was better than her own.

Seeing everything around him only helped reinforce Collins’s opinion that he would have the pick of the Bennet daughters in order for them to remain in his favour for the future. Now, if they, or at least one of them, were comely, his triumph would be complete.

The driver brought the gig to a halt under an enormous portico. Even this, which to his eye would accommodate two coaches at a time, was far larger than the portico at Rosings Park. All he could hope was that her Ladyship would never have occasion to visit Longbourn. He was too afraid of her temper to have it turned on himself. At that moment, he remembered something which assisted him in relaxing.

Miss Anne de Bourgh, the rose of Kent, was engaged to her cousin, a Mr Darcy from Derbyshire. When they married, which Lady Catherine had informed him would be soon, the combined estate would dwarf Longbourn. As such, his patroness would have no cause to be upset with him. He never thought to ask her how one combined estates more than one hundred miles distant from each other.

When the gig came to a complete halt, the largest footman Collins had ever seen, a veritable mountain of a man, stepped forward and placed some steps next to the gig. The man then stepped away and waited. Collins shrank back on the bench. The man instilled fear in his heart even though all the footman did was to watch Collins intently—in his mind the man was glowering at him. He took some deep breaths to calm himself before he began to climb down from the bench.

The driver was already untying his trunk before Collins descended, using the step the giant man had placed. He knew he needed to move, so he willed his long, spindly legs into motion. It was not difficult for him to climb down, but as he fought the fear he felt, Collins used slow and deliberate movements.

As afraid as he was of the big man, once his feet were once again onterra firma, Collins looked around, and his indignation grew when he did not see anyone to greet and welcome him to his inheritance or to show him gratitude for the condescension he was showing the Bennets by extending the olive branch after they had attempted to steal his birthright from him.

Before he could contemplate the slight of the family not being ready to receive him in the drive as was his due, the large, oak front door opened. “Mr Collins?” Hill intoned.

“I am; where are my cousins?” Collins demanded.

“They await you in one of the drawing rooms. The mistress instructed me to lead you to your bedchamber so that you may wash and change from the road,” Hill responded. “I am the Bennets’ butler, Mr Hill.”

Before he demanded to go directly to see his cousins, Collins stopped himself. The mountainous footman had moved closer to him. Hence, he nodded sullenly and followed the butler into the house. Once inside, the butler took the broad-brimmed hat, his winter coat, and gloves from Collins.

Removing the hat exposed a balding head, where the few remaining hairs had been greased in a vain effort to hide his baldness. Collins was a few inches shy of six feet in height and was a slender man. His father used to severely punish him if he ate too much, pointing out the sin of gluttony, all the while eating as much as he had desired for himself. Hence, when he ate, Collins was very careful not to place too much foodon his plate, thanks to many years of physical lessons, not to overindulge.

As he followed the butler, Collins was in awe of what he was seeing. The house was not decorated as spectacularly as Lady Catherine had done in her décor at Rosings Park, but then again, who could come close to equalling her good taste? That being said, looking around, Collins did not miss the obvious wealth that would soon be his.

He followed the butler up to the fourth storey, which he was told wasoneof the guest floors. He was shown into a spacious bedchamber which boasted a bathing room and a little room off to one side with closets, chests of drawers, and suspended bars to hang clothing. He marvelled at the room, which was more than twice the size of his chamber at the parsonage.

Seeing that he believed in keeping clean, Collins was happy to be able to wash off the dust of the road. Before he had been preferred to the Hunsford living, Collins had not bathed above once a fortnight. Lady Catherine’s disapprobation and command to never appear before her without taking a bath first had quickly changed that. Now he religiously bathed each and every day, and sometimes—when he had to see his patroness—more than once.

~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~

“Hill reports that the man is in his bedchamber, and will join us shortly,” Bennet related.