Miriam looked toward her patient. “Mrs. Collins, do you wish to see your husband, or shall we deny him entry?”
Mary hesitated. “Lizzy, what ought I to do?”
Elizabeth turned to Mrs. Swinton. “Is it customary to admit the husband into the lying-in chamber before the birth?”
Miriam grinned. “No, Mrs. Darcy, it is not generally done. However, I make exceptions when the husband and wife are particularly attached to one another.”
Mary answered firmly. “No, please do not admit him. I should find his presence too distressing, and I have enough upon my mind already.”
Elizabeth crossed to her sister, who stood beside the bed, grasping the sturdy bedpost. “You are in capable hands, Mary. Be strong.”
Then she excused herself and went downstairs to greet her guest and speak with Peter Miller, the footman who carried news of her husband and the hunting party.
Mr. Collins presented himself in her drawing room before Peter Miller appeared. As Walters showed him in, Elizabeth studied the man closely. He carried extra weight, but his height prevented it from detracting from his appearance. His manner remained grave.
He approached and made a formal bow. Elizabeth sat, and he did the same.
She soon noticed a change in his appearance. He no longer wore his hair parted. Instead, it had been cut and arranged in the fashionable Brutus style. The short crop, brushed forward with a little fullness on top, suited his thick, straight hair and the shape of his head remarkably well. He was an attractive man, and the new style made him more so.
Elizabeth regarded him with suspicion. Was this new hairstyle an attempt to attract women during his wife's absence?
She rebuked herself for the thought. What concern was it of hers? She was not his wife.
And what significance would it hold for Mary? Her sister would likely rejoice never to submit to his attentions again. She would soon have two children and need not concern herself with further advances from her husband. Indeed, the more Elizabeth considered the matter, the more convinced she became that Mary would welcome it if Mr. Collins sought comfort elsewhere.
“What think you, Mrs. Darcy?” he asked.
“Sir, I beg your pardon. I was not attending.”
“I asked whether this is not one of the prettiest estates you have ever had occasion to see.”
“Ah, yes. Pemberley House and its lands are among the prettiest I have ever seen, though I confess to a partiality for Longbourn as well. Hertfordshire is particularly lovely in the spring.”
He inclined his head. “It is only natural and proper that you should retain a fondness for your childhood home.”
He paused before adding, “Had you come to me yourself when I applied to your father for a wife, you might have called it home for the rest of your life.”
Elizabeth stiffened. “Sir, I did not mean to imply…”
He interrupted her. “Of course not. You set your sights upon a gentleman of ten times the consequence of your father’s heir.”
Elizabeth bristled. Her eyes narrowed, and her lips thinned.
He lifted a hand. “Forgive me, Mrs. Darcy. Though it is true, it was impolitic of me to state it so plainly.”
He coughed and then asked, “How is my wife, Mrs. Darcy? May I see her?”
“Mary is in labor now, sir. The lying-in was not expected until July, but because she carries twins…”
“Yes, yes. Mary informed me. Twins often arrive early. I suppose there can be no doubt as to their parentage. Had my wife conceived when she was abducted, the pregnancy would not yet be sufficiently advanced for a living child.”
Elizabeth rose at once, angered by his insult. She dropped a curtsey. “You must excuse me, sir. I have matters to arrange for my husband’s luncheon and that of his party.”
She crossed to the bell pull and rang with unusual force. Walters must have been standing just outside the door, for he appeared almost immediately.
“Ma’am?”
“Please show Mr. Collins to his room and have his bath drawn. He will no doubt wish to rest before coming down for dinner.”
