With a nod, Darcy turned his attention back to the parson. “Yes, Collins, Iama Darcy. Lady Catherine’s connection to the Darcy family stems from her sister’s marriage into the family line. My connection to the family precedes that connection by decades.”
Though surprised, Collins was not lost for words, more was the pity. “It matters not.”
“Yes, it does matter!” said Fitzwilliam. “Lady Catherine’s edicts, though she loves to issue them, do not carry any weight in the family, let alone to those unconnected to her.”
“Furthermore, I have thrown Lady Catherine from Pemberley and will never allow her to enter my properties again,” said Darcy before Collins could spout some other drivel. “If you so much as glance at Elizabeth again in a way I dislike, I will take it out on your hide.”
When Collins drew himself up to his full height, his erect stance doing nothing to hide his ample midsection, spindly legs, and balding pate, Darcy interrupted him.
“I will not discuss this further. Let it go, Collins; you will not prevail.”
“It is beyond my comprehension how you cannot see the benefits of doing Lady Catherine’s bidding. Does Miss de Bourgh not possess far more than my cousin can boast? Does my position as your aunt’s clergyman not offer any weight to my advice?”
“You may not be a clergyman for long, considering your behavior today,” growled Fitzwilliam. “Now, enough of this. It is time to return to the estate.”
“Mr. Bennet will take a dim view of your actions today, Collins,” added Darcy. “Elizabeth is his closest daughter. You had best prepare your effects for an immediate departure.”
Though Mr. Collins continued to jabber his protests, Darcy paid no more heed to him, instead turning to Elizabeth, cradling her hand in the crook of his arm, and leading her down the path to Longbourn. Collins followed close behind, with Fitzwilliam following him, watching his every move, so Darcy did not concern himself with what the man might do. The sooner they returned to Longbourn, the quicker Mr. Bennet would evict the man from his property.
HENRY BENNET COULDnot call himself as diligent a man as Darcy. Despite his daughters’ ineligibility to inherit the estate and Elizabeth’s upcoming marriage to Darcy, the family’s future was secure. Bennet had done what he must on the estate and had saved early with his brother Gardiner’s help, such that even without Darcy’s support, the girls and their mother would have a comfortable situation should the worst happen.
The one consequence of the visit of his cousin was to clarify what sort of man he was. Collins was, to be blunt, one of the most unimpressive specimens Bennet had ever met, and given he had known the man’s father, that was saying something. Now that he knew what was in store for the estate in the future, Bennet was even less inclined to work to improve Collins’s situation. He still did what he could to improve his wife’s position, but he saw little point in making any improvements on the property. Perhaps that was not laudable, but Bennet could not deny how he felt. When he learned of events that day, it would become even worse, though a surprising bit of information would alter his perspective.
The first Bennet heard of the approaching maelstrom was when he presumed Hill opened the front door to the estate. Bennet might have ignored it, for his youngest daughters were not the quietest girls, but the sounds of deeper voices raised his interest. When he heard Darcy’s voice rise above the rest, he knew that something was amiss and departed his study at once to learn the reason for the tumult.
“I swear, Collins, if you say one more word, I will call you out, then carve you like a side of pork! Enough, I say!”
Darcy was enraged about something, and when Bennet reached the vestibule, he could see that his future son-in-law was not the only one. Collins stood in the door facing the rest of the company, and behind him was a man Bennet did not know, while inside Darcy and Elizabeth stood with their backs to Bennet, facing his cousin. Given the rhythmic flexing of Darcy’s fists, it seemed he was on the verge of flying at Collins to throttle him; as Bennet had felt like doing the same several times these past days, he could well understand. Collins had angered Darcy by some means, and given his interest in Elizabeth and Bennet’s conversation with him, Bennet suspected he knew what it was.
“Easy, Son,” said Bennet, approaching to calm the situation. “What has put you in this state?”
“Your daughter has caused this!” exclaimed Collins. “If she would not reach so high, this may all be resolved! Mr. Darcy is to marry elsewhere by the decree of his aunt!”
“For the last time!” roared Darcy, “Lady Catherine isnotmy aunt! Be silent, you witless worm, or I shall horsewhip you!”
“Who is Lady Catherine?” asked Bennet into the rising furor.
“Lady Catherine ismyaunt,” said the tall man standing behind Collins. “I beg your pardon, sir, for there is no time for social niceties, but I am the late Mr. Darcy’s cousin, Colonel Anthony Fitzwilliam. Lady Catherine de Bourgh is my father’ssister, and the late Mr. Darcy was the son of Lady Catherine’s sister.”
“Then what can Darcy have to do with this Lady Catherine de Bourgh?” asked Bennet, still at sea.
“Not another word, Collins!” snarled Darcy, preventing Collins from speaking again.
As he was angry enough to beat the man within an inch of his life, it was fortunate when the colonel again stepped into the breach.
“I shall tell you, Mr. Bennet,” said he, glaring at the rector. “Collins, if you do not be silent, I shall join Darcy in administering the retribution you so richly deserve!”
Though Bennet had not thought it possible, Collins huffed but did not speak again, allowing the man to turn to Bennet. In a few succinct words, he explained the situation, from Lady Catherine’s wish that the previous Mr. Darcy marry her daughter to the transference of her designs to Darcy. Collins had not mentioned her name, likely because he knew Elizabeth would recognize it.
“He accosted me on the path, Papa!” said Elizabeth, interjecting into the narrative when it appeared Collins would speak. “The daft man said he would ruin me, then I would have no choice but to marry him, leaving Mr. Darcy for Miss de Bourgh.”
Bennet fixed a dark scowl on Collins, now understanding what had riled Darcy so. “Is this true?”
Collins drew himself up to his full height. “The dictates of my patroness—”
“Carry no weight here, Collins,” interrupted Bennet, daring the man to continue to make such a silly case. “What I wish to know is if you accosted Lizzy intending to harm her.”
A gasp came from behind Bennet, but while he identified it as his wife, he had no attention to spare for her. The glare withwhich he speared Collins demanded that he speak, and Collins did not hesitate.
