Page 28 of Introducing Mrs. Collins
‘Quite a task to set her, Aunt.’
‘It is, but I know she does such things for others who are embittered by their circumstances; I have seen it in the village. You, nephew, might begin by asking Mrs Collins how she is. Though you are injured, you are not the only person in the world with news to tell.’
Colonel Fitzwilliam looked chastened and sat up a little more. ‘Forgive me, Mrs Collins. It is good of you to come. I did not want to receive you in such a state, but my aunt insisted.’
‘Please, do not make yourself uneasy on that score. I have seen people in worse states than yours.’
Fitzwilliam nodded graciously but remained a little detached.
‘May I ask,’ Charlotte began, then hesitated, glancing at Lady Catherine, as if seeking permission to ask, before continuing, ‘what has happened to you?’
Colonel Fitzwilliam looked surprised. ‘I thought my aunt would have told you. Shot in the leg.’
‘I am sure Mrs Collins need not know the details of your injury, Nephew. You forget you are not in company with your men now,’ warned Lady Catherine sternly.
Charlotte dared not reply after witnessing such a rebuke, but Colonel Fitzwilliam, visibly irritated by this, said tersely to his aunt, ‘I can hardly forget that.’ He then turned to Charlotte. ‘Are you shocked, Mrs Collins?’ he asked roughly.
‘I am not.’ She looked apologetically at Lady Catherine at this minor betrayal. ‘I have seen all kinds of injuries on my visits, so I am unlikely to swoon from mere words.’
Colonel Fitzwilliam nodded, as if he had won an argument. ‘I expected as much.’
Charlotte dared to ask, ‘Is it healing well?’
‘It got the bone. It’s not shattered, thank God, but it’s… I know not –theyknow not the extent of the damage, for sure. But there’s a break of some sort, and it will take its time to heal. I cannot walk on it, which is galling.’
He rambled this off while not looking at her, as if ranting to himself. It was clear to her that he was in very poor spirits, and she was silent, allowing him to rail against his condition. She knew not what he had suffered through, and it seemed fair to her that he would be agitated. But it troubled her that she did not wholly recognise him.
He fell quiet then, taking a breath, said, ‘It has robbed me of my manners, Mrs Collins. How are you?’
‘I am well, thank you,’ Charlotte replied. ‘I have not been shot in the leg.’
Colonel Fitzwilliam laughed at this, then winced, the movement evidently triggering a pain somewhere.
Lady Catherine looked unhappy at the levity.
‘I am glad to hear it,’ he answered, then asked, with visible effort, ‘Your husband is well?’
The door opened at that moment, and Figgis walked in and whispered something to Lady Catherine.
The great lady rolled her eyes and sighed with exaggerated exasperation. ‘Can not Mrs Jenkinson deal with such things?’ she said, in what seemed as quiet a voice as she could muster, which was loud.
Figgis replied again, close to her ear; his ability to convey a message soundlessly was a marvel.
Lady Catherine gave another large sigh and heaved herself from her chair. ‘I must attend to something, Mrs Collins. Pray do not leave; I will return shortly. Figgis, it is very stuffy in here; please open a window – Mrs Collins will be hot.’
Figgis did so, before both he and Lady Catherine left the room. Fitzwilliam and Charlotte looked at each other, smiled awkwardly and looked away again.
It was only now, when they were alone, that the memory of their last meeting rose briefly as a spectre between them. But, as Charlotte had predicted, something had shifted since then. His injury – or rather, his incapacity due to it – had altered him, and it loomed in the room. It was as if he was still at battle, and she could not get near him. She, of course, had her own reason to feel distanced from him, but she would keep it to herself for now.
‘I am glad to be alone with you,’ the colonel started.
Charlotte flushed, thinking that surely he would not now continue in that vein.
Fitzwilliam, seeing her expression, realised how it sounded, and hurriedly continued, ‘That is, I am glad to spend time with someone other than my aunt.’
Charlotte breathed out with relief; she had assigned great effort to putting that intrigue firmly away, for her own well-being, and was not prepared to unearth it.
‘Lady Catherine has been so good as to allow me to convalesce here. She has brought in her doctor and keeps me company daily. But, I confess, to bethis oftenin her company is—’ He struggled for the word.
