Page 14 of Mr Collins in Love
“But, Jem, will you not explain why what you have told me should change anything?”
“Well,” He spoke reluctantly, “Some folk would say I should go back and do my duty.”
Now he had set it out, it was obvious, though it also seemed unreasonable that he should be asked to stay forever doing something so dangerous and so inimical to him.
“But you have done your duty for long enough, surely?You did it nine years or more.”
“Aye, but some might name me a coward, sir.When we are fighting for our freedom because old Boney will not stop at home.”
I could see this was a strong argument.What were the desires of one man, when set against the needs of a nation at war?What even the desires of two men?Because I certainly did not want him to go back to die in some blue Spanish sea.
My thoughts grew thick and slow again.Trafford would have helped me produce a stirring speech; something about how Jem should place his hope in the protection of Heaven and remember the pluck of our jolly Jack Tars, and so on, but for some reason I did not want to turn to Trafford with Jem.In fact, the idea was so distasteful, I shuddered.
“Cold, ain’t you?”Jem said.“I’d give you this jacket but you don’t want what comes along of it.”
“I’m not cold.Listen, you have given nearly ten years to the navy.Surely you are due some time on land?If the French invade, we are but twenty miles from London, and they will doubtless overrun all Kent.We have already lost a lot of men hereabouts to the war.There are more than twenty widows in the parish and some of them have lost sons too.Though it is true not all of them are war widows.Mrs Watt’s husband was kicked in the head by a horse, for example, and Mrs Lambard’s died of a very violent stranguary, but her son died at Walcheren so she has very little, you know, having lost the farm.And there are three widows in the alms-houses who may not be relevant to my argument because they are very old and I don’t know how their husbands died.But my point is that there are fewer men than there were.And you could join the local militia, if need be.They are all just local men, from Rosings and the village, and Mr D’Aubney drills them three times a week, though not at harvest time because then everyone is needed in the fields.Also, growing potatoes at the parsonage is important too.”Speaking of the widows had reminded me.“Because people are hungry, even in times of war, or perhaps especially then.I am hoping to have plenty of potatoes this year so we may give a lot away.”
“So, I may stay then?”
“Of course!”
He put a hand to his face and rubbed his eyes.His voice wavered.“Should have known you would not turn me away.You always were loyal.Always good to me.Always.”
“I want you with me.”My words were plain truth, but somehow they seemed to linger in the air, as if I had said something more meaningful than I knew.
“Aye.”He cleared his throat.“Aye.”
The stable wall had cooled and although I had said I was not cold a moment ago, I was growing cold now.Jem yawned suddenly and I found myself yawning too.
“I should go to bed,” I said.
“Aye.”
“I’m glad you have told me everything.”
“Me and all.”
I shifted forwards on the bench, but as I did so I turned to look at him and he spoke again.
“Strange, ain’t it?Some lies rest easy in the heart.Don’t matter, they don’t, and I’d tell them again.Like telling the pressers I’d go with them.Don’t feel like a lie, that don’t, because them as who you’re telling would do you harm if you told the truth.But some lies just rub and rub and won’t give you no peace.I should have known I cannot lie to you.Anyway, I shall sleep now.Thank you, Master Willie.I shall do my best for you.Always.”
“Good night, Jem,” I said.
“Good night.”
With that, I made my way back through the cool of the garden.I suppose I barred the door and that I was careful on the stairs.I must have undressed and put on my nightshirt, but the next thing I noticed was the pillow beneath my cheek and sleep overtook me.
CHAPTER 5
It was well I slept deeply the night Jem arrived, because for the next three nights I tossed and turned as if the sheets were made of horsehair.
What if Lady Catherine thought me profligate to have taken on a second man?How angry would she be?What if she thought I should have hired a local man?What if she had had some deserving lad in mind for the position but had not yet informed me?What if I was forced to dismiss Jem?What if he hated me forever, or went back to sea and drowned?
The lack of sleep fuddled my memory and I forgot my little notebook at the alms-houses and my hat at old Mrs Meriweather’s when I called on her with a bottle of Mrs Fowke’s last year’s elderberry cordial.And as for Jem, I could hardly bring myself to glance at him in case my joy somehow showed in a way it should not, though I could not help noticing how well he looked in the new brown breeches and jacket that we had got from the tailor.We had got him new boots as well, and he limped no longer.
On Thursday, I received a dinner invitation to Rosings.
I told Lady Catherine about Jem after dinner, over the cards.I had eaten almost nothing.I disliked most elaborate and highly flavoured dishes anyway, and tonight had been unable to choke much down, though I had, of course, been at pains to praise everything most highly.
