Page 13 of Collins Takes Charge

The Honourable Lady Catherine de Bourgh

A second reading did not make the writer of the missive seem any less insane than Lankershim had thought her to be at the first reading of the ridiculous letter. It was hard to imagine that anyone would think the drivel, never mind put those deranged thoughts, into writing.

This was not something he would answer with a letter. The bishop rang for one of the clergymen who assisted him and gave directions to prepare his carriage for departure within an hour or two.

He needed to complete a bit of church business first before going to Rosings Park.

~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~

At first light, two coaches departed Grosvenor Square. The Matlock carriage turned in the direction that would take it to Kent, while the Darcy conveyance headed north to Hertfordshire.

To ensure that Miss Caroline Bingley, Darcy’s friend’s cloying and annoying younger sister, would not try to insert herself when they went to view the estate, he had had Bingley sleep at Darcy House the previous night and set the departure for first light, long before that lady would deign to rise.

Darcy’s Fitzwilliam relatives had all pointed out that the way Miss Caroline Bingley behaved would one day result in her own ruin, as well as that of Bingley, especially as her brother refused to check her. Deep down, Darcy knew they had the right of it, and as much as he hated to admit it, he was just too stubborn to openly own the truth of their assertions.

Bingley was the middle child of the three Bingley children. His older sister, Louisa, was married to Harold Hurst, the heir to a minor estate. Charles Bingley was an affable, jovial fellow, but, as his cousin had said the previous evening, he was easily led and always willing to substitute another’s judgement for his own.

The youngest, Miss Caroline Bingley, was an inveterate social climber and fortune hunter. She was the daughter of a tradesman who put on airs and graces as if she had been born to a duke. If that was not bad enough, she had set her cap at Darcy, the heir to Pemberley, the first time she had met him while her brother was still at Cambridge. That was when she had decided that none but he would do. Her pursuit of Darcy had only worsened after his father had passed away, not long after the grieving son had turned two and twenty, when he became the master of all Darcy holdings. Darcy was aware that had the Fitzwilliams, other than Richard, agreed to be introduced to Miss Bingley, she would have set her cap for Andrew, who was as yet unmarried. A future earl was far better than a mere gentleman.

Any time Darcy had the misfortune to be in Miss Bingley’s company, she would grab onto his forearm possessively, and thereby force him to pry her talons from his person. She was not subtle in her hints that she wanted him to offer for her. Given all that, he should have cut her long ago; but for some reason, he had not. He told himself that it was to maintain his friendship with Bingley. However, perhaps the reason he did not was because the Fitzwilliams had all advised him to make sure she knew where she stood, proving once again he was too stubborn to listen to them.

Darcy was so deep in thought he had not heard Bingley speak to him. A kick to his foot woke him to the fact that his friend was attempting to garner his attention.

“Where were you, Darce?” Bingley asked when Darcy finally looked his way.

“I was deep in thought.” Darcy did not want to say more because if he told Bingley the truth of his opinion of Miss Bingley, his friend would be wounded.

“Why did we have to leave at this ungodly hour?” Bingley repeated.

“That, Bingley, is quite simple,” Darcy responded. As Bingley looked at him keenly, an unbidden image of a puppy with Bingley’s head intruded on his thoughts. It was Richard’s fault! “By departing at first light, we will reach Netherfield Park early enough to inspect it and then return to London during daylight hours.”

“It is still very early to rise,” Bingley replied peevishly.

“Not for me, nor is it for any man who manages an estate as it should be done. This way, we do not waste too much of the daylight hours by leaving London at ten or eleven in the morning as you would prefer,” Darcy returned.

“Caroline was not happy she could not join us for dinner yester-evening,” Bingley stated.

“My sister who is not out, is not ready to act as my hostess yet. Before you say it, your unmarried sister would never be acceptable to be my acting hostess. If I were to do that, it would send a very wrong message to her and others,” Darcy responded.

Rather than push Darcy on behalf of his younger sister as she had demanded before he made his way to Darcy House the previous evening, Bingley said nothing. He was well aware that there was nothing which would induce Darcy to offer for Caroline, including compromise. However, it was not something he could tell his more forceful younger sister and escape one of her tantrums.

The friends rode in silence until they reached a coaching inn where the Darcy horses would be rested and watered.

~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~

Bishop Lankershim did not go directly to Rosings Park. Instead, he made for the Hunsford parsonage. When his coach pulled into the drive, he noticed that another conveyance was ahead of his own. His footman opened the door once the step was in place, and Lankershim made for the front door. As he passed the coach and four ahead of his own equipage, he noted the coat of arms on the door with ‘Matlock’ emblazoned below it. It seemed that the letter Collins had sent to London for Miss de Bourgh had brought the earl to Kent.

He rang the doorbell, and one of the two maids employed at the parsonage showed him to the sitting room, where, besides Collins, were four others; three men and a lady. Lankershim surmised the older man was Lord Matlock.

“Bishop Lankershim, were we to meet today?” William Collins queried.

“No, Collins, we were not. However, your patroness sent me a letter that demands a response from me in person. I was going to ask you to accompany me to the manor house, but it seems there are others here before me,” the bishop drawled.

“What has my sister done now?” Matlock asked exasperatedly. “Before we address that, will you make the introductions, please, Mr Collins?”

William did so without delay.

“This is from your sister.” Lankershim removed the epistle from his jacket pocket and handed it over to the earl.