Page 84 of Compromise & Consequence
“How is it that you know Lady Catherine?” Richard asked again.
“I am the rector at Hunsford. Her ladyship is my patroness.” The heavyset man rocked back on his heels; his manner strangely nervous. “What business do you have, asking about Lady Catherine?”
“She is my aunt.”
“You are a Darcy?”
“No, I am Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam.”
Mr. Collins’s eyes rounded in surprise or horror; Darcy couldn’t quite tell.
“You are the son of Earl Matlock.”
The parson bowed so low in greeting that Darcy wasconvinced his nose touched the ground and prepared himself to grab the funny little man in case he toppled over.
“Mr. Collins, my cousin is not royalty. You do not need to genuflect in his presence,” he admonished.
“I am honored you are here. I have been told so much about your family. Lady Catherine is prodigiously proud of them… rather, she is proud of most of your family...”
The sentence trailed off and Mr. Collins began to turn pale. He cast his gaze longingly after his betrothed and cousin.
“Does she still go on about that cradle betrothal?” Richard asked.
Mr. Collins dragged his attention back to the colonel.
“She is most adamant and very distraught over the whole thing. She has written an expose about Cousin Elizabeth forThe Gazette. She says she does not care how much it costs to purchase a whole page…” Mr. Collins’s voice trailed off when he saw the look on Darcy’s face. “Oh, dear me. I should not have said anything.”
“But you have Mr. Collins, and I demand you tell me everything my aunt has planned, for not only does this concern me, but also your cousin, Mrs. Darcy. It will be her name dragged through the mud, and her family will be hurt. Can you live with yourself if that happened?”
“I… I… She will release me from my living!”
Jane stepped forward and laid a hand on Mr. Collin’s arm.
“Mr. Collins. Standing before you are two very powerful men. I do not believe they will allow their aunt to hurt you in any way, and as a Christian and spiritual leader of your flock, you must see that no harm comes to others.”
The parson continued to open and close his mouth like a fish gasping for air out of water.
“Mr. Collins, I am privy to information you are not.” Richard began. “My father, Earl Matlock, was the executor of the late Sir Lewis de Bourgh’s will. Although Aunt Catherine tends to rule Rosings Park, she has no authority. My cousin Anne is the legal owner as she came into her inheritance upon her majority. Also, the living at Hunsford can only be removed by the archbishop, so if my aunt threatened you with that, rest easy.”
Mr. Collins swallowed hard, looked at both men, swallowed again, and then began to speak.
“She wrote all about the compromise and painted the picture that Cousin Elizabeth set out to trap you on the terrace, with lurid details of her gown being torn and her bosoms exposed to the gaze of everyone who came outside after the fact.”
“That is all?” Darcy demanded, feeling Mr. Collins was not being entirely truthful. When the man swallowed again, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, he knew there was more.
“If this fails to entice you to divorce my cousin, she has hired some men to…” He began to perspire profusely. “They are to take her to an unknown location, keep her there for some time so that her reputation would be thoroughly ruined, and in disgust, you would cast her off.”
Darcy grabbed the man by his neckcloth and dragged him up to his face. In his fury, he did not even register the weight of the man, nor the fact his toes barely touched the ground.
“You were going to stay silent and allow all of this to happen!”
He flung the man from him in disgust and Collins fell to the ground, trembling. He awkwardly rose to his feet and reached inside his greatcoat.
“No! I wrote you an anonymous letter.” He pulled out a letter and handed it to Darcy, the envelope quivering in his hand, he trembled so hard. “It details everything. I was going to post itfrom London on our way to Kent tomorrow.”
Darcy snatched the missive from his hand, seeing his name and direction on the front of the envelope.
“You have earned yourself a reprieve, Collins,” he snarled and stuffed the letter in his coat pocket. “I will read this tonight and if I am not satisfied you have revealed all her plans, do not show up for your wedding because Miss Lucas will be made a widow before the day is over.”
