Page 4 of Grief and Grievances
The younger girl, pale-faced but resolute, nodded her understanding and hurried off in search of help, her skirts rustling as she disappeared through the nearby hedgerows.
Elizabeth, swallowing hard against the lump that had formed in her throat, remained on her knees beside the fallen heiress. The scent of crushed grass and overturned earth mingled with the metallic tang of blood as she assessed the numerous injuries that marred Anne’s delicate frame. Her hands, though trembling, moved with purpose as she sought to stem the flow of crimson staining the once-pristine fabric of Anne’s gown.
“Stay with us, Miss de Bourgh,” Elizabeth murmured, her voice barely audible amidst the sounds of Mr. Collins’ continued wailing and the frantic movements of the ponies still tethered to the wreckage. “Help is on its way.”
The coppery scent of blood filled the air as Elizabeth pressed a cloth firmly against Anne’s head wound, her hands trembling under the weight of responsibility. Charlotte approached, her skirts rustling softly as she knelt down beside Elizabeth, offering another cloth and her assistance.
“Thank you,” Elizabeth whispered, grateful for her friend’s steady support. As they worked together to staunch the flow of blood, Mr. Collins’ anguished cries rang out, echoing through the now eerily quiet scene.
“Have mercy upon me!” he wailed, wringing his hands in despair. “This is all my doing, for I am cursed with an unfathomable foolishness!”
Charlotte shot Elizabeth a pained look, her eyes pleading for understanding. Elizabeth knew that their friendship was built on trust and loyalty. She nodded subtly, signaling her willingness to keep silent about the true cause of the accident.
“Mr. Collins,” Charlotte hissed through clenched teeth, her voice low and urgent, “pray, cease your lamentations at once! Your hysterics are not conducive to Miss de Bourgh’s well-being.”
As Mr. Collins fell mercifully quiet, Charlotte turned back to Elizabeth, her expression grave. In a hushed tone, she pleaded, “Elizabeth, I must beg you not to reveal the truth about Mr. Collins’ ill-fated dispute with the goose. The consequences could be dire for us all. Lady Catherine, I fear, would not be understanding. She might withdraw her patronage.”
“Very well, Charlotte,” Elizabeth responded in a low tone. “We shall maintain that the goose was the sole instigator of this dreadful accident. I only hope Mr. Collins can manage to keep his own counsel.”
“Thank you, Elizabeth,” Charlotte murmured, a mixture of relief and gratitude colouring her features. “Your loyalty means more than I can express.”
As the two women returned their focus to Anne, Elizabeth’s thoughts whirled with the implications of their pact. She had embarked on a path fraught with deceit, all for the sake of protecting those she loved. While her conscience gnawed at her, she knew that sacrifices must be made, even if they flew in the face of her usual candour.
In the midst of this turmoil, Elizabeth’s love for her friend deepened, for it was in their shared trials that true bonds were forged. Though the future was uncertain, one thing remained clear: they would weather whatever storm lay ahead, united in purpose and fortified by the strength of their friendship.
As Elizabeth glanced over at Mr. Collins, she saw that his state of panic had not abated; indeed, it seemed to worsen with every passing moment. His face was a ghastly shade of pale, and his eyes darted about like trapped animals seeking escape. She leaned in closer to Charlotte, her voice barely more than a whisper.
“Charlotte, I fear our greatest challenge shall be keeping your husband quiet,” she cautioned, her brow furrowing in concern. “The man appears to be on the verge of utter collapse.”
“Indeed, you are right,” Charlotte replied, her eyes narrowing in determination. “But I shall do what must be done to ensure his silence.”
At that very moment, Mr. Collins released a high-pitched wail, drawing the attention of all present. He seemed incapable of stemming the tide of hysteria that threatened to drown him. With a resolute expression, Charlotte strode towards her husband, took a deep breath, and raised her hand. Without a moment’s hesitation, she delivered a firm slap to his cheek, the sound echoing harshly through the air.
“William!” she admonished, her voice sharp as a whip. “You must regain control of yourself! Your continued distress will serve only to draw suspicion upon us, and we cannot afford such scrutiny.”
Mr. Collins stared at his wife, his eyes wide with shock, and then blinked several times as if awakening from a terrible nightmare. The sudden, stinging pain brought him back to reality, and he swallowed hard, nodding his head vigorously.
“Y-yes, my dear Charlotte,” he stammered, his voice quivering but no longer hysterical. “You are quite correct. I shall endeavour to compose myself forthwith.”
As Elizabeth watched the exchange between Charlotte and Mr. Collins, she marvelled at the strength her friend displayed in the face of adversity. The woman who had once seemed content with a life of quiet resignation now stood as a pillar of resolve, unyielding in her determination to protect her family. The sight filled Elizabeth’s heart with a mix of pride and sorrow; for while she admired Charlotte’s courage, she could not help but lament the necessity of such drastic measures.
The air was thick with tension, the quiet broken only by the occasional stifled sob or anguished mutter. Elizabeth’s gaze lingered on Mr. Collins, who seemed to have withdrawn into himself, his hands clasped tightly in his lap. She could see the conflict warring within him—the desire to confess his part in the accident, and the fear of the consequences that would surely follow.
“Mr. Collins,” Charlotte said firmly, her voice low but commanding. “Allow me to speak plainly. Should Lady Catherine learn the truth of this matter, our livelihoods—and indeed, our very home—may be forfeit. While a living cannot be withdrawn once given, Lady Catherine’s influence is such that she could take drastic measures. We cannot risk it.”
Elizabeth watched as Mr. Collins’ eyes widened in alarm, his mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air. She knew he was not a malicious man, merely foolish and weak-willed; his loyalty to Lady Catherine bordered on idolatry, and the prospect of losing her favour would be devastating to him.
“Your duty now lies in your silence,” Charlotte continued, her stern gaze never leaving Mr. Collins’ face. “For the sake of all those who depend upon you, you must keep this dreadful secret locked away in the deepest recesses of your heart.”
“Indeed, my dear Charlotte is correct,” Elizabeth chimed in, attempting to appear reassuring despite the knot of anxiety twisting in her stomach. “We shall maintain the story that the goose startled Anne’s ponies; it is the truth, and a plausible explanation that will spare us all from further scrutiny.”
Mr. Collins stared at them both, his brow furrowed in consternation, as if grappling with the notion of such deception. At length, he drew a deep breath and nodded his acquiescence, his shoulders slumping in resignation.
“Very well,” he whispered hoarsely, his voice barely audible. “I shall do as you advise, though it pains me to keep the truth from our esteemed patroness.”
“Thank you, Mr. Collins,” Charlotte said softly, reaching out to place a comforting hand on his arm. “I know this is difficult for you, but please trust that this action is taken in the best interests of all involved.”
Elizabeth’s thoughts churned with the gravity of their deceit, and yet she could not deny the necessity for it. She glanced toward Anne’s still form, her heart heavy with the knowledge that so much depended upon their silence. As they awaited the doctor’s arrival, she steeled herself for the trials ahead, resolving to support Charlotte and protect the fragile peace they had forged amidst the chaos.
