Page 71 of Introducing Mrs. Collins
‘This is your first post as curate, is it not?
‘It is, and what luck that it is such a fortunate placing.’
‘You are fortunate indeed. If only Mr Collins were so fortunate.’
‘Quite.’
‘Poor Mr Collins has been burdened with a curate who would concoct stories about his wife, disparage his name, and go behind his back to oust him from his own house and steal his living. I call that most unfortunate.’
Mr Smithson spluttered. ‘I concocted nothing.’
Lady Catherine did not slow her pace to accommodate his increasing levels of agitation as they turned down a narrower, less ornate corridor. She spoke in a controlled, measured tone. ‘I do not believe you, Mr Smithson; let me be very clear on that. The observations you have made amount to nothing and owe themselves to a wild and malicious imagination.’
‘But the letter—’
‘The letter is as fictitious as the rest – a theatre prop. It is not difficult to fabricate a love letter and to sign it with someone else’s name.’
‘I have done NO SUCH—’
Lady Catherine turned suddenly, her movement now sharp as a whippet. She held his gaze, whispering with icy clarity, ‘I suggest that you do not raise your voice to me, Mr Smithson.’
Smithson visibly folded. ‘My apologies.’
She resumed her former demeanour and continued walking, forcing him to keep pace. When they reached a plain-looking wooden door at the end of another hall, she stopped and turned to face him. ‘Now we have established that I have no intention of acting on your little fiction, I will say this to you: I have been surprised by your visit, Mr Smithson, and I have reached an age at which I had not thought surprises possible. That you – a young, inexperienced man of twenty years of age, who has seen nothing of the world and added little of value to it – should see fit to enter my home, uninvited, and proceed to advise me on how to best run my estate and manage my affairs – which I have done single-handedly for many years – astonishes me. Had you brought this nonsense to my late husband, Sir Lewis de Bourgh, I think it unlikely that you would have been allowed through the door. But then, I do not believe you would have attempted such a feat with my husband, would you? To manipulate and then offer advice to themasterof this house? No, you would not. But you would offer it to thelady.’
‘I assure you, I have the utmost respect for your ladyship, and I wished only to act in service of the Church—’
Lady Catherine’s sharp intake of breath was enough to cut him off, and stepping closer to him, she spoke in a low but steady voice. ‘If I should hear even a whisper on the wind of this tale, from anyone in the parish or from farther afield, I shall know it was you who spread it. Should that occur, you will not only be immediately removed from your position, but I will ensure that you never hold any in the Church again. The Church that I know has no place within its ministry for slanderers or dissemblers – orfor those who delight in the downfall of others. I will see to it that you are not welcomed by any good family again, not even your friends the Russells. It will be as if you have not a friend in the world – not a penny, nor a prospect. I think you know Icando this, but I wish to assure you that Iwill. If you give me reason.’
Mr Smithson’s mouth hung open, his eyes wide with horror. He seemed quite at a loss for words.
Lady Catherine, however, did not require a response at this juncture. ‘As for bringing my nephew into this equation – that shows a shameful lack of foresight. You mark yourself as rather stupid by such a suggestion. That said, cleverness is not something I value in a clergyman, or in an acquaintance. Shall I tell you what I do value, Mr Smithson?’
He nodded limply.
‘Loyalty and discretion.’
He blinked.
‘Might I assume that you will cease your…holy missionnow? Or should I write to the archbishop this evening?’
Mr Smithson had no fight left in him. ‘I will cease.’
Lady Catherine nodded. ‘Now, I doubt I will see you here again, Mr Smithson. But might I advise you never to call on a lady at teatime in the future? It is most disturbing.’
She knocked loudly on the wooden door, and a moment later, a maid appeared, shocked to find her mistress at the door. ‘My lady?’
‘Maud, please escort Mr Smithson from the house, via the back stairs. He will not be returning.’
With that, Lady Catherine swept away without a backwards glance at Mr Smithson, who stood, shaking, before being led out like an obedient dog, through the servants’ kitchen, down a set of stairs and to the back door. As soon as he had set both feet on the ground outside, he heard the key turn in the lock.
Back in the parlour, Lady Catherine sat heavily in her chair, as shaken and as weakened as her guest was. Lifting the letter fromthe table, she read it once more and, wearily, pushed herself up out of her chair.
She took a step towards the fire and threw the letter into the hot flames. She watched it closely, until it was burnt to nothing.
CHAPTER XIII
Charlotte pressed her head to the floor in her bedroom, lifting the blankets to peer under the bed. Nothing. She had checked every drawer, every bag and pocket, though she knew that was silly. Sheknewwhere she had left it; it simply wasn’t there.
