Chapter 80
They waited for half an hour, and then the gravel was disturbed outside. Everyone sat up straighter. A wicked grin passed between Kitty and Lydia, but Georgiana and Mary frowned.
“Should I take Georgiana upstairs?” Mary asked into the silence. “Mr. Collins does not know she is here.”
“No, of course not.” Lady Catherine snapped, “No member of this family shall be inconvenienced by a mere clergyman. My niece can stay exactly where she is.”
“But…” Georgiana entreated. Her aunt turned a savage look on her. For the first time, it had no pity. This was the formidable woman whom they had heard about.
“Georgiana, you shall not hide anymore. You have brought yourself to this remove; you shall bear the consequences, and you shall do so with pride. Anything less, child, and I shall be most disappointed with you. There is no reason to be afraid of sheep when you know how to tear their throats out.”
“Aunt!” Darcy said in amazement.
Even by Lady Catherine’s standards, that was a brutal notion. However, it made a strange expression cross Georgiana’s face. Meeting her aunt’s eyes, she sat up a little straighter and raisedher chin in the air. A haughty expression crossed her face, and in that moment the family resemblance was clear.
Darcy breathed out slowly. He had to tell himself that his sister could look after herself. She was not helpless. She was her own person, and by Lady Catherine’s command she was willing to stand her ground.
Indeed, the fierce look Georgiana gave her brother warned him away!
The door opened. Mr. Collins entered clumsily. Somebody had found him a walking stick, but it was clearly made for a much shorter man. He hunched over it, wobbling and muttering to himself as he tried to bow. It was impossible. He looked beseechingly at Lady Catherine at once, ignoring everyone else in the room, and opened his mouth.
“She has been taken from me!”
“So I hear.” Lady Catherine replied.
She should have asked Mr. Collins to sit down in one of the many,manyfree seats, but she did not. This ought to have been a clue to Collins that he was not in favour. From the unfocused set of his eyes, it was clear that he had taken something for his pain. He was not in his right mind, and his voice slid up and down the octaves like an untuned violin.
He pointed at Elizabeth, wobbling dangerously as it threw him off balance.
“It is all her fault! She put such wicked thoughts into her head! Making my sweet Jane into a… a harlot! She talked her into it. I know that she freed the horses! And I… I…!”
“Mr. Collins, if you say another word about my wife or my sister then I shall be forced to take you outside.” Darcy growled, “Guard your tongue, sir.”
“Oh, but I am not insulting them. It is a fact! They are Eve incarnate! They are sinful wicked temptresses, as the Bible warned us, sir! You have done this to me, as much as they, by your ignorance! As Samson was fooled by Delilah, sir, you are deceived and have fallen prey to their wicked arts!”
“Collins!” Lady Catherine finally exploded, turning on him with a savage look, “Cease your infernal wittering this instant!”
The small man recoiled. His Adam’s apple bobbled up and down wildly. His mouth opened and closed. The overall impression was that of a caught fish blubbing beside a bobbing fishing cork. Then he said the foolhardiest word of his entire life:
“But…!”
That was it. That small act of defiance was the final straw. By voicing those three innocent letters Mr. William Collins destroyed years of toadyism and false humility, all of his petty merits and his patroness’s good opinion. As the final nail in the coffin of the word’s hapless journey into damnation, Collins said it in a nasal whine, which offended the ears of all around him.
Lady Catherine’s eye turned spiteful, her mind deadly. With immeasurable restraint, for she was not one to rush an enjoyable dose of righteous wrath, the estimable lady formed her immutable judgement.
“You asked me to intervene in this matter, sir, and so I shall. You, who are so assured of my preference! Why would I bestow it? I find your manner and conduct utterly abhorrent.” She shook her head at him as if he was a disobedient dog. Collins seemed to shrink in on himself, curling down around the canelike a caterpillar perching on a twig. Lady Catherine was not done. In fact, she had only just begun.
“I would say that your behaviour here is out of character, but I fear that this shallow facade is all there is. Beneath your veneer of professionalism, I had always hoped to discover something worth my attention - something that could, perhaps, be nurtured. I see now that there is nothing there at all. You are a puddle, sir, pretending to be a lake. It is no wonder that this poor girl dislikes you. I cannot imagine anyone who would!”
Elizabeth’s heart raced as Lady Catherine stood up. With Mr. Collins hunched over his stick, she towered over him. Her voice fell to a low hiss.
“I hear you have manipulated the girl’s mother. Are you not ashamed? Does it not embarrass you to know that the only one who has championed your cause cares not for your character, Mr. Collins, but only for your inheritance? You are a vulture, sir, picking at the dead. I shall not permit you to prey upon the living.”
“Living…? My living?” he croaked, once again only hearing the words which concerned him.
This was another error. Lady Catherine had only cared to assault his private life thus far. Now, her attention turned towards the man’s other duties. His conduct there had been forgiven by the vague tolerance his fawning had inspired within her. Now, the lady’s eyes were clear.
She was also not completely unaware of Mr. Collins’s sly nature. Sooner or later, it would occur to him to revenge himself upon the family. He would say something, or do something, that would embarrass or shame them. Well, she would put a stop tothat at once. She went and sat back in her chair, back ramrod straight, a queen surveying her lowly jester.
