Page 37 of Introducing Mrs. Collins
‘Well, Thomas is the earl now and has a wife and children. Their father died a few years past, and now Thomas has an estate to manage. He struggles to maintain it, in truth. It never had a vast income, as I understand it, and it was fortunate that my mother and her sister married well; my uncle would not have had much spare income to dispose upon his sisters. But the estate has shrunk further since Thomas took it over. But enough of that, Mrs Collins. How is your family?’
Charlotte answered her questions, but she saw Miss de Bourgh’s energy begin to wane, and fortunately it was not long before it was time to retire to the drawing room. This transition was quite an event, because Colonel Fitzwilliam still could not walk and so it was the work of Mr Collins and Figgis to help him from his seat in the dining room to the room next door. This required the colonel to stretch out his arms and lean heavily on the shoulders of his two aides, both of whom nearly buckled under his weight.
All observers – for nobody was polite enough not to watch such a sight – were holding their breath for the duration of the process, praying he would not be dropped and break his other leg. Finally, the colonel was lowered (with not quite enough care) onto a settee, where he could raise and rest his leg. It was clear from his face that his pride was wounded by the charade.
Charlotte sat herself in the chair next to his.
The evening felt pleasingly relaxed, given the setting, and even egalitarian – an assembly of people of different stations who all now knew each other well enough to dispense with undue formality and reserve.
Lady Catherine asked Mr Collins to pull the fireguard around and then engaged him in conversation, having been parted from her preferred companion for all of dinner.
‘Are you feeling well, Mrs Collins?’ asked the colonel.
Charlotte moved her chair a little so she could address him more easily, as he could hardly turn to her in his position. ‘I am, sir, thank you.’ She guessed at a greater importance behind the question than normal, given her recent revelation. ‘But as I have just seen my husband acting as your sedan chair – and a rather shaky one at that – I will immediately return the question.’
Colonel Fitzwilliam smiled ruefully and looked down at his leg with a sigh. ‘I am as well as can be expected.’
‘As well as can be expectedis the answer people give when they are not well at all. Now I think on it, the question in your situation is not a good fit. I can see you are not “well”– you are not healed, but… I would ask, are you in good spirits? You may be frank.’
‘I always feel I may be, with you. I thank you for that. I think, considering my situation, I am content enough. On the one hand, I am pampered here, and I can hardly complain of it. I am very bored, certainly, and probably rather difficult company for my aunt and for Anne. If I am not useful, I am miserable. But your visits have been very welcome. I would be glad of a visit from Darcy, but he seems to be embroiled in some business in London.’
‘You enjoyed an interesting conversation with our new curate?’ Charlotte asked, raising an eyebrow.
Fitzwilliam smiled ruefully. ‘I was perhaps a little harsh the other day. I do not like people who sermonise about things they do not understand.’
‘One might say that a curate has an obligation to sermonise.’ But Charlotte was only teasing him, for she knew what he meant.
He only gave her a rakish half-grin. He was not up to a battle of wits, and she saw that and relented.
‘I think you did not care for him?’
‘I did not. I would have liked to exit theatrically but I could not.’
‘I thought that was the case!’ said Charlotte, with some force. ‘I wished you could!’ She laughed a little, and he watched herclosely, enjoying her reaction. She gathered herself and asked, ‘Has Dr Chappell given you any indication of how soon you might walk?’
‘Yes, and he thinks it will not be soon. I may hobble in a few weeks, but it will be months before I can walk well enough to be on campaign.’
‘Are you keen to return?’
He looked puzzled by the question. He turned from her, taking a moment to consider. ‘Yes,’ he said plainly, then, ‘No. Well, it is my life. I have known little else. I joined at sixteen, and I have not veered off course. So, I suppose I am keen to continue with my life.’
Charlotte nodded. ‘You once asked me what would I do, if every freedom was afforded to me – ignoring what present circumstances dictated. May I ask you the same question?’
She thought he might be unwilling to engage with this exercise, as he did not reply immediately but then he raised his eyes to her and asked, in mock-seriousness, ‘Do I have two working legs in this scenario?’
She grinned. ‘You may have full use of your legs.’
He nodded. ‘I would like not to travel far—’
‘But you must say what youdowant, not what you donot!’
‘You are very particular!’ cut in Fitzwilliam, quite entertained.
‘I am,’ returned Charlotte, enjoying her own folly.
He seemed to be struggling with the question. To prompt him, she offered, ‘Perhaps you should start with something small. What is one object you would like to possess in your life?’
He furrowed his brow in thought. ‘A mantelpiece.’
