“A witness?” Beads of perspiration appeared on Collins’ upper lip. A sheen of moisture covered his forehead. “Why would you need a witness?”
Ignoring the question, Darcy asked, “Who is my uncle?”
“Lord Matlock, the elder brother of Lady Catherine.” Mr. Collins shifted the weight onto the other foot.
“Who is my great uncle on the Darcy side?”
“I…I do not know,” Mr. Collins’ voice quavered.
“How odd.” Darcy’s eyes pierced the vicar. “Are you not familiar with the bishop over Lady Catherine’s estate of Rosings Park?”
“Yes. He tested me on my competency in Latin, my knowledge of the Scriptures, and my familiarity with the liturgy and church doctrine as outlined in the 39 Articles. Lady Catherine recognized my qualifications and offered me the position at Hunsford for life.”
“Then you should know the legal definition of the word ‘calumny.’ Am I correct?”
Mr. Collins fidgeted. “The making of false and defamatory statements about someone in order to damage their reputation. But you…you….”
“Hmmm.” Darcy eased. “Do you think Bishop Russell James Darcy would be interested in hearing the insults you spewed against his favorite nephew? That in charging me with the murder of George Wickham, you would condemn me to hang if the law believed you? Tell me, Mr. Collins, what would the bishop, my uncle, think about the qualifications of a man representing the church who blatantly and repeatedly spoke against the truth? Would he not consider this a serious breach of conduct and dereliction of duty?”
Mr. Collins swallowed. “You cannot…you will not…will you?”
Squaring his shoulders, Darcy said, “Mr. Collins, do not be misled. If you believe I will not see justice done for Mr. Anders, for myself, and against you, then you are a fool.” Turning to the innkeeper, he asked, “Did you hear every word?”
“I did, sir.”
“Very well, I shall send an express to my uncle, the bishop, as soon as we find a rider.”
Mr. Collins collapsed into the chair.
Darcy said, “If I were you, Collins, I would scurry to Hunsford to pack before Lady Catherine hears news of your shame, for do not pretend that she will not shift all the blame to your shoulders. If you do not make haste, there is every likelihood that your possessions will be in an enormous pile outside the parsonage or reduced to ashes.”
The man hesitated.
“Go!” Darcy barked, finally sending the cleric out of the room.
Turning to face the innkeeper, Darcy asked, “Tell me, what do you believe?”
The innkeeper rested his hands on the thick wooden bar. “Abigail Anders was the light of her father’s eye. Had Anders not done what he did, there were any number of us who would have seen it done once we found out what that beast did to her. You have nothing to worry about from us. We only tolerated the clergyman”—he tipped his head to the door—“because we had a bet to see if his heart would fail him, as worked up as he got himself. His efforts were entertaining, at the least.”
“Very well. My wife admires every one of her neighbors here. Misplaced affections would deeply hurt her.”
“No, sir, Mr. Darcy, sir.”
Glancing at Bingley, Darcy declared, “Once I’ve written to my uncle, we will be done here.”
30
Before Bingley left early Monday, he informed Darcy that he had no intention of keeping Netherfield Park any longer than it took to court and marry Jane Bennet. He offered Darcy and Elizabeth the opportunity to remain until the lease expired at Michaelmas the following year.
“His kindness and generosity toward his friends and the firmness with his dealings toward Miss Bingley proves he will be a fine match for my sweetest sister.” Elizabeth brushed a piece of lint from Darcy’s coat. “Are you as determined on your course as Mr. Bingley is on his?”
Darcy wrapped his arms around her, gently pulling until she rested against his chest. In every way, she eased his worries, making him feel invincible. He wanted to be invulnerable for her.
“I am. And what of you, Mrs. Darcy? Did you find a ‘fine match’ in me?” He dropped kisses on her curls.
She chuckled softly. “Mr. Bingley reminds me of the Cedars of Lebanon. The nature of the wood makes it easy to carve and shape. It is also resistant to decay and renowned for its durability.“
“I can see why you would think that about Bingley.” Darcy stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers. “What sort of tree do you see me being?”
