P&P The Untold Stories: Mr Collins Gossips with Lady Catherine

Mr Collins shares gossip from Meryton with Lady Catherine

October 2, 1812

Lady Catherine de Bourgh regarded her parson, feeling fatigued. On the one hand, he was appropriately compliant and deferential; he knew his place and treated her with the admiration she deserved. But on the other hand, he was a bore. How he droned on and on! He had been with her above an hour already this morning, speaking mostly of parish business. Her steward kept her informed of important matters, such as how the harvest was progressing, but Mr Collins provided news of a different sort. Some might call it gossip, but she took an interest in the affairs of those in her domain, and in her opinion, that meant knowing everything there was to know about their lives. How else was she to provide them with the advice they required? They also spoke of his sermons. She reminded him why the one he had given the previous week had been lacking, and told him how to improve the one he was preparing for the upcoming Sunday.

She was only half listening as he spoke about his efforts at gardening, a pastime no doubt encouraged by Mrs Collins, who wanted him out of the house so that she could attend to her duties. On the whole, Lady Catherine approved of her. She was hardworking and sensible, and she accepted Lady Catherine’s counsel readily. Her attention was recalled to the current conversation when she thought she heard her nephew’s name.

“What is it you said? Did you refer to my nephew Darcy?” she interjected. “Tell me again, and do try to make sense. I never knew anyone more capable of rambling on and saying nothing, despite the volume of words leaving passing their lips!”

Although he was sitting, Mr Collins effectively bowed, lowering his upper body almost until his chest rested against his legs. “My apologies, Lady Catherine. I most sincerely regret—”

“Yes, yes, get on with it,” she ordered, waving her hand as though swatting away a fly.

“Of course, I shall do that at once. I was saying that my dear Charlotte lately received a letter from her mother. She wrote that Mr Charles Bingley has returned to the neighbourhood. Their neighbourhood, that is, not this one. He is the gentleman who leased the estate, Netherfield Park, it is called, which is nearby that of my cousin, the one I shall inherit.”

“I am aware who he is. What does that have to do with my nephew?”

Mr Collins nodded, though why, she did not know. His mouth hung open as he did, and she was struck again that he was not an attractive man. He was fortunate Mrs Collins had accepted him, but she supposed he was as good a husband as most, and better than some, in that he was not a vicious man.

“Lady Lucas, my mother-in-law, said that it appears that Mr Bingley will marry Miss Jane Bennet after all, despite rejecting her last autumn. I say rejecting, but of course, I do not mean to imply that she asked him to marry her and he said no, but rather, everyone was speculating that he would propose to her, as is proper, but then he went off to London or elsewhere—I would hardly know where he went, as we only met a few times—but now he has returned.”

Lady Catherine sighed loudly, rolled her eyes, and repeated, “But what does this have to do with Darcy?”

“In her letter, Lady Lucas told my dear wife that Mr Bingley’s friend Mr Darcy, your esteemed nephew, was staying with him, as he did last year. I know it is ridiculous of her to speculate, and there can be no truth in it—why would a great gentleman such as your nephew look at one of the Miss Bennets with anything other than disdain? He is so much their social superior—”

“Mr Collins, I shall kick you if you do not compose your thoughts and repeat what she wrote about my nephew this instant!” She was unlikely to actually kick him, not wanting to injure herself, but she did have a walking stick close at hand, and there were moments when she was tempted to use it, including at present.

He paled and shrank back, and when he began to speak, he stammered. “My mother-in-law told my dear Charlotte that Mr Darcy is often with his friend, making calls, attending parties, riding around the neighbourhood where they might encounter just about anyone. That cannot be wondered at. After all, why pay a visit to your good friend and then never spend time with them? But I digress.”

“Yes, you do,” Lady Catherine muttered ominously, narrowing her eyes.

His head bobbed up and down so quickly, she thought he would injure his neck. “Lady Lucas has seen your nephew speaking to my cousin Elizabeth several times, and since Mr Bingley might marry Cousin Jane, she thought it would be romantic”—he said the word with evident disgust—“if Mr Darcy married Cousin Elizabeth.”

“My nephew marry Miss Elizabeth Bennet!” Lady Catherine exclaimed. “Lady Lucas dared to speculate on that?” She spoke more loudly and less guarded than she would have liked, and blamed the sense of alarm that surged through her, heating her body.

Mr Collins, clearly wary of her mood, stared at her dumbly and gave several shallow nods. She turned away from him, allowing her mind to take her back to the previous Easter. She remembered seeing Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet together on several occasions. They never seemed to have much to say to each other, but had she not seen her nephew gazing at the girl once or twice? There was nothing remarkable about her. She might be pretty, but her manners were appalling, she had connexions in trade, and she was poor. But still, her nephew had sought her out when the girl was at Rosings, and then there was the evening Miss Elizabeth had not come to dinner despite having been graciously invited. Darcy had left immediately after eating, saying he would take a walk. When he had returned some time later, he had claimed to have a terrible headache and returned to his chamber at once. The following day, he had been agitated and insisted he and Fitzwilliam had to depart for London at once.

It has to mean something, but what? Lady Catherine thought. She stared into the distance, unseeing, until sudden awarness struck her. No! It cannot be. That strumpet means to capture my nephew, to make him believe he is in love, and force him to propose. I will not permit it!

Standing, she glanced at her parson. “Go away. I have something important to do and have no need of you. Go! Now!”

Mr Collins scurried from the room. Lady Catherine rang for the butler; she had to make arrangements to go to Hertfordshire at once. There, she would demand Elizabeth Bennet renounce any claim on her nephew.

“I will not leave until she agrees never to marry him! Before the year is out, Darcy will be married to Anne. Anything else is unacceptable.”

© Lucy Marin 2024

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