Page 69 of Introducing Mrs. Collins
When she exited the vestry, she found Mr Smithson had taken over her job of collecting up the hymn-books. His eyes followed her from the vestry, back up the aisle of the church, narrowed suspiciously. She returned the book she was holding, placing it into his hands, and he idly glanced down at it before putting it on the pile.
‘Did you find what you needed?’ he asked.
‘No.’ She thought quickly. ‘I was looking for my husband.’
Smithson raised an eyebrow. ‘Why, he is still in the churchyard.’
Charlotte hurried from the church, which felt chillier than outside. She found her husband conversing with a parishioner and stood by his side, talking politely and nodding, all while the letter in her sleeve burnt into her skin.
29th January 1813
Charlotte,
I have thought of nothing but you. I know not how I offended you, but my soul aches with the sorrow of it. I had never known such joy as when I last held you, and I have never known such agony as when you left me. Any words I said, I will retract; it is done. Anything I did, I will swear never to repeat. I may not understand all your feelings, but I will endeavour to, and until I do, I will do whatever I can to be near you again and to be worthy of you.
Say that you forgive me. Say that we may meet again. Say that you are still mine, for I am yours.
RF
CHAPTER XII
Smithson was waiting in the parlour at Rosings, standing up straight, running over his lines in his head. He looked around the room, at the high walls, gilded portraits and ornate furniture, and for once, he felt a little nervous, but he quickly gathered up his confidence for the task ahead. He had been preparing for this interview ever since her ladyship’s return from London.
Lady Catherine entered, and he bowed low. She gathered a smile for him – she had grown almost as fond of him as she had of Collins. Yes, he was perhaps a little sterner in his faith than was fashionable, but that need not affect her. For him to call on her uninvited, however, was very unexpected and not a habit she wished to encourage. It was four o’clock; a time when she would ordinarily call for tea, but she put off doing so, in order not to delay his departure.
She sat but did not invite him to do so. She made a beckoning gesture with her hand which indicated he should begin. He hesitated, fiddling with his cuff.
‘You seem rather unsettled, Mr Smithson. You have been enough in this house, surely, to be able to overcome any natural timidity? Pray tell me the purpose of your visit, for I feel certain you would not have presumed to call on me without one.’
‘Thank you, Lady Catherine,’ he said, giving another small bow. He made his face very sombre. ‘If I am unsettled, my lady, it is because I am the bearer of unsettling intelligence, which,thought painful to relate, I am compelled – by both duty and conscience – to disclose.’
Lady Catherine replied with one long blink.
Taking this as encouragement, though her cues were often inscrutable at best, he continued, ‘You know how I have esteemed Mr Collins and have been so grateful to him for my position here. He has been a guide and a friend to me, and I would protect him at any cost, if it were in my capacity.’
After a pause, Lady Catherine said, ‘Some concision would be appreciated, so that you might reach a conclusion before supper.’
After clearing his throat, Smithson hurried on, ‘What I have to say concerns Mrs Collins.’
Lady Catherine raised an eyebrow.
‘And, well, this is delicate, because it also concerns your nephew, Colonel Fitzwilliam.’
Lady Catherine frowned now, and colour rose to her powdered face. She picked up the bell that sat on a tray near her chair and rang it. She kept her eyes fixed on Smithson’s face as she awaited her butler’s entrance, and when he appeared, she requested tea without diverting her stare.
Figgis left, and the door was closed.
‘Continue.’
Without the need for further encouragement, Mr Smithson launched into the speech he had prepared and practised; he was excited to begin. ‘I know for certain that there is an understanding between Mrs Collins and Colonel Fitzwilliam, and I can offer you evidence of it. I would be loath to bring such tidings to you if it were not for a lack of discretion on their part, which I fear invites scandal into our community. I value Mr Collins so very highly, and I also value the good reputation of our parish, so much so that I did not feel I could be idle while such a threat to our village – and an affront to God – is taking place.’
‘What is this evidence you speak of?’
‘Well, firstly that of my own observations: their connection is clear if one is looking for it.’
‘And you were looking for it?’
Mr Smithson faltered. ‘Y-yes. Once I sensed something amiss.’
