“Your Earlness, I-I mean your Lordship, I am here for my daily meeting with my beneficent and wise patroness to go over what the parishioners have told…er…parish business, and also to ask her to take charge of a fortune that I have come into by the Grace of God, as in her vast business knowledge and intelligence she has condescended to invest my money for me so it will grow just like her funds for Rosings Park grow.” ‘Charlotte is but a woman, how dare she advise me against allowing my patroness to look after our money?’ he sneered in his head. Unfortunately for her, the express from Bennet had not succeeded.
“Mr Collins, would you agree that your patron or patroness must be the owner of the estate that the living is gifted from?” the Earl waited.
“I would, your Lordship,” he bowed deeply and reverently each time he addressed the Earl, “and I am so lucky…”
“Mr Collins, please be quiet and listen and stop bowing every time that you address me,” Lord Matlock commanded.
Collins blanched at the strident tone used by the Earl. ‘Is my deference not pleasing to all of my superiors? Lady Catherine has emphasised many times that the distinction of rank and the classes must be maintained.’ Collins asked himself, not understanding why his beneficent patroness was being so quiet as she would certainly correct the Earl…ah, it had to be in respect for her brother’s exalted rank.
“Did you know that Lady Catherine isnotthe rightful owner of Rosings Park and therefore it was not in her power to bestow the gift of the living to you or anyone else? As such, as the living was bestowed without authority and unless the true owner decides to bestow it, you, Mr Collins, will no longer be the vicar at Hunsford,” the Earl decreed.
Corrected, and informed at the same time, Collins almost burst into tears; how could this be happening? Was he about to lose his living? The Earl looked at his niece where she was sitting next to her Cousin Andrew, loving that Andrew had his arm around his cousin and was keeping her steady, as this had to be difficult, though it was long overdue.
“Anne, the living is yours to bestow. Do you want Mr Collins to have it or should we look for a new candidate? As the true owner of Rosings Park it is your decision,” Lord Matlock deferred to his niece. Both Lady Catherine and Collins started to protest, but they were given the option to be quiet or be gagged.
“Uncle, can we hear from Lady Catherine’s quack, then deal with the will and the house? I will make a decision about Mr Collins before we leave the drawing room,” Anne held her breath as she waited to see how he would handle her request.
“Surely, we can Anne. Now Mr Tetley, as I am sure you know you will be paying for your crimes, but whether it is the gallows or transportation depends on you. If you answer my questions fully and honestly, your life will be spared and you will be transported. Do I make myself clear?” the Earl addressed him formally.
“Y-y-yes my Lord, I understand. And I will answer whatever you ask as I prefer to live,” he replied, now quaking with fear.
“You spineless…” Whatever else Lady Catherine was about to say was lost as the footman gleefully gagged her with his cravat that he had untied while behind her, and then bound her arms to her throne.
“Have you, at the instruction of Lady Catherine, been providing a tincture to my niece, Miss Anne de Bourgh, to make her ill so that her mother could control her inheritance?” the Earl asked in a clear, enunciated sentence so no one could refute what was said.
“Yes, I have, my Lord,” the muffled answer came as the man had hung his head in shame.
“Lift your head man, we need to hear what you say,” he was commanded. Seeing the man acquiesce, the Earl proceeded. “When did Lady Catherine first ask you for the tincture?”
“It was about a month after the late master of Rosings Park passed,” he stated, wincing at the depth of his mistakes now that he faced judgement.
“And she informed you what she wanted and why?” The Earl’s countenance clouded and Andrew tensed, desperate to extract revenge on the man who was poisoning his cousin. Anne rested a hand on Andrew’s arm, calming him just enough so murder was not committed in her defence, though justified as it would have eliminated those that had been her attackers.
“She did my Lord. She told me that she wanted her daughter to seem sickly so that her Ladyship could control Rosings Park and the wealth that went with it. To my shame I went along with her scheme, as I needed money and she offered a handsome payment,” Tetley admitted, his voice high with emotion.
“The dose that you added was to make her ill, but not kill her?” the Earl pushed, not giving a damn about his emotions when he was staring at a man intending to harm his niece intentionally.
“At first yes, my Lord. That changed less than two years ago when she instructed me to slowly start upping the dose to make it look like Miss de Bourgh was getting worse so that if Lady Catherine decided that her daughter needed to die, it would not look suspicious. At first, I refused, as I had never agreed to help her kill her daughter. She threatened me by telling me that she would have me hanged when she exposed me and would claim no knowledge of my actions, blaming it all on me as she would be believed and not me. I felt I was trapped, but only made tiny adjustments to the tincture, as I could not countenance killing anyone. Please forgive me Miss de Bourgh; I was weak and I should have never allowed myself to participate in Lady Catherine’s plot.” Tetley tried to atone but knew forgiveness was not deserved or likely.
“And this is the conversation that you overheard, Mrs Jenkinson?” The Earl looked at Mrs Jenkinson who was sitting on Anne’s other side and holding her hand.
“Yes, it was my Lord, word for word,” Mrs Jenkinson agreed. Andrew who had been silent up to this point as his indignation and disgust at his aunt built, turned to Anne.
“Cousin, why did you not contact us as soon as you found this out. You must have known that father, Richard, Darcy, and I would have protected you at all costs,” he demanded, his frustration intense. He needed to know why Anne had not trusted them when she was so loved by them.
“I should have, Andrew,” Anne agreed. “But I knew that that woman was controlling all of the post in and out of Rosings Park and I foolishly believed that as long as I made it to my birthday just past, that I would finally be able to assume control of what is rightfully mine. It was my folly. I should have at the very least have had Maud deliver a note to William and Richard when they were here the following Easter. I finally did so, and you are here to help me now, so all will be well. And not only will I not have to deal with that self-absorbed…” she swallowed the unladylike word but they all knew it was not ‘witch’ that would have been said were she not their beloved Anne. “The added bonus is that I will no longer have to pretend that I am sick, wan, dull and boring.” She smiled at him and Andrew hugged his cousin again. He hated what she had had to endure at her mother’s hands for so many years, but at least it would be no more.
But mere feet away from where Anne was finally able to see life before her, Collins’s whole world was crashing down about his ears. How could this be, the patroness he revered was not his patroness, and worse she was a murderess, or had attempted to be? A sudden thought hit him like a crashing wave. ‘Will I be tried as an accomplice? How many times did I bring the tincture here from Tetley and passed it on to my patro…no she is not, oh, good Lord I will be…”The hapless parson worked himself up to such an extent, that his heart that pained him from time to time and already damaged by overindulgence, attacked with vengeance, and he lost. He gripped and clawed at his chest, collapsed on the floor and was still with foam dripping from his mouth.
“Lipton,” Andrew Fitzwilliam yelled, “go find a doctor. A real one! Now!”
“My Lord,” Tetley interjected, “I may have done wrong, but I am a physician. And if you allow me to check, I think that you will find that this man is beyond the help of mere mortals and is at this time standing before St Peter answering for his life choices, as I will be judged for my actions.”
“Go to it, man. Lipton, hold on. If as Tetley suspects Collins has shuffled off the mortal coil, then we will need the undertaker, not a doctor. Please have a footman make haste to the parsonage to bring Mrs Collins here forthwith.” Changed direction.
After Tetley checked the parson for signs of life, he shook his head and said, “He is no more, your Lordships. There is no pulse or breath in this man’s mortal remains.” Tetley confirmed.
“In that case, Lipton,” the Earl instructed, “have some footmen remove the body and place it in the icehouse until the undertaker, and I dare say the magistrate, arrive. We will need Lord Metcalfe to help decide what to do with my sister.” The Earl nodded once that the butler could follow his and Andrew’s directions.
