Page 95 of Colour My World
At precisely four o’clock, Mr Collins arrived.
He descended from the carriage with practised solemnity, his portly frame encased in a coat far too fine for the road. His chin was inclined as though he were to enter some great hall rather than a modest country home. Around him shimmered an oilygoldaire, like gilt rubbed thin over something far baser.
His bow to Mr Bennet was excessively low.
“It is an unspeakable honour to at last make the acquaintance of my esteemed cousins and their most gracious parents. I must first offer my sincerest gratitude to my noble patroness, the inimitable Lady Catherine de Bourgh, whose unparalleled generosity has allowed me the means to travel and perform this most Christian duty.”
Elizabeth exchanged a glance with Jane. Mary pressed her lips together.
Lydia leant closer to Kitty and whispered, “One.”
Mr Collins faltered. “I beg your pardon, Miss Lydia?”
“Oh, nothing at all, sir,” Elizabeth said. “Pray, continue.”
“Ah, yes. As I was saying, Her Ladyship…”
“Two,” Kitty whispered, her voice barely above a breath.
Mr Collins paused again, then carried on. “Her Ladyship, in her boundless wisdom, often remarks upon the importance of familial duty…”
“Three,” Lydia whispered behind her hand.
Elizabeth glanced at her father; Mr Bennet had trapped his bottom lip between his teeth.
“Indeed, Her Ladyship…”
“Four,” Kitty whispered, nudging Lydia.
Mr Collins looked from Jane to Elizabeth, then Mary. “I must say, Cousin, I do not quite—”
“You do not quite what?” Mr Bennet cut in.
Mr Collins’s mouth opened, then closed again. He cleared his throat with exaggerated gravity. “No matter. I shall be pleased to fulfil my duty as your most devoted cousin. Lady Catherine herself…”
“Five.”
A flicker of doubt crossed his features. “Lady Catherine is most generous in her expectations…”
“Six.” Lydia giggled behind her gloved hand.
“Lydia,” Jane whispered, then sighed.
Mr Bennet cleared his throat. “Let us enjoy some refreshment, Mr Collins. I imagine you have many tales to tell of the grandeur of Rosings Park.”
Mr Collins brightened. “Indeed, sir! Her Ladyship herself…”
“Seven,” Kitty whispered, then coughed into her hand.
Jane ushered Kitty and Lydia towards the house. Mrs Bennet grasped Mary’s hand, looked at Elizabeth—and burst out laughing.
Chapter 34
Before supper, the girls took refuge in their mother’s sitting room while she occupied herself with correspondence and household accounts.
“Your father may tend to his odious cousin. I have not the stomach for it.”
The warmth of the fire and the soft sound of a quill scratching against paper made for a peaceful retreat from Mr Collins’s presence. When Mrs Bennet was called away to tend to household matters, they moved to the schoolroom.
