I bit my lip and waited for developments.
“Specifically, Wilberforce and Julia,” Lady Catherine said.
Ah. That made matters a little clearer. Wilberforce was a prize-winning pig, renowned across the land for his size and shining coat, and Julia was his regal consort.
“That’s unfortunate,” I said, playing for time, so I could figure out what she wantedmeto do about it.
“I wonder,” said Lady Catherine, “if some Young Person has not been attempting to play a childish prank by stealing Wilberforce and Julia.”
I agreed that this might indeed be so. I was not sure what I could do about it, but I did not say so.
“And,” my husband’s patroness said, drawing her narrow lips together, “my acrostic necklace, given to me by my late husband, Sir Lewis de Bourgh, is also missing.”
I wondered weakly what kind of acrostic her late husband would have commissioned, since Lady Catherine always described him as “not overburdened with brains.”
“Very shameful,” I said, since I saw some reaction was clearly expected of me.
“Mrs. Collins,” said Lady Catherine impressively, as if she was bestowing a rare and valuable gift on me, “I would like you to look into these mysteries and tell me who or what is responsible for them, so I can bring the malcontents to justice.”
“Why me?” I asked.
Lady Catherine had begun to stroke the head of a very old, very ugly pug dog, and she said, “Clearly Mr. Collins married you for your sense, not your looks, so it’s time to show it.”
I couldn’t deny it, but I still felt a little stab of irritation at her words.
“I’ll do my best,” I said.
“Do,” she said. “I would like it solved before my nephew Fitzwilliam Darcy, his wife Elizabeth, and Mr. and Mrs. Charles Bingley arrive.”
Since it was only three days before Christmas, and the Darcys and Bingleys might arrive at any time, this was rather a tall order.
“I don’t want news of this getting Abroad,” Lady Catherine continued.
“I am not sure the Darcys or Bingleys will feel obligated to visit the pig sty,” I said. “So I think we can have tolerable confidence in news not getting abroad.”
“Leave no stone overturned,” Lady Catherine said sharply, a feather in her hair beginning to bend with the violence of her movements.
“Do you have any new servants. . .?” I began dubiously, but Lady Catherine shook her head firmly. “No new servants whatsoever, and the only visitors have been Anne’s two suitors and Mr. Crawford our solicitor, and I have knownhimsince he was in swaddling clothes.”
Lady Catherine said this as if having viewed Mr. Crawford as a baby was proof that he would never dare to commit any crimes as an adult.
“Of course,” I said, making a mental note to ask the housekeeper if it was indeed true that there were no new servants. Lady Catherine had an indefatigable desire to know and advise on every matter, big and small, that had to do with Rosings, but I would not put it past the formidable housekeeper Mrs. McGregor to have snuck in an unapproved parlourmaid if she felt it was necessary.
Then I heard a tempestuous noise in the hallway and my husband was ushered into the room.
My husband was a tall bear of a man, almost knocking his head on the doorway as he came in. William was well over 6 feet tall, with big, broad shoulders, thick, unruly brown hair, big, often clumsy, hands, and a big body.
He gave both Lady Catherine and I unnecessarily deep bows.
“My dear Lady Catherine,” he said to his patroness. “Are you in any difficulties that I could help you with?”
“Mrs. Collins is going to take care of it for me,” Lady Catherine said firmly.
I blinked a bit. I wasn’t sure exactly what I was supposed to do, but I supposed I was grateful she was so confident in me?
“You will stay to tea, of course,” Lady Catherine continued.
“Of course,” William said eagerly. “I would not miss the pleasures of tea at Rosings for theworld.”
