Page 27 of Shields and Roses

It was short and not appropriate, but the letter would get his point across. Rising from the desk, Fitzwilliam went to a glass-enclosed cabinet that was built into one wall of the study. He searched along the shelves, which alternated with rows of drawers, until he found name he sought—Bennet. Opening the glass door, he took out a shallow box with a three-by-three-inch square top that was marked with the standard black and white grid and set with proportionally tiny carved ebony and maple chessmen arranged in a game in progress.

Wistfully, Fitzwilliam tipped over his father's king as a sign of the defeat. He stared at the board for a moment, missing his father intently. Wiping a stray tear from his eye, he looked up at all the shelves, with another thirty or so similar boards arranged in the various stages of play, each box marked with a metal plate bearing the opponent's name. Fitzwilliam let out a heavy sigh.

Moving carefully, he tipped the remaining pieces into a shallow wooden bowl that had sat next to the box, and which already contained the men that had been lost in play. Then he lifted the chessboard and began the process of transferring the men into the slots prepared for them inside the box. When every piece was safely put away, he closed the lid over them and fastened the tiny latch. Then, he carried the box back to the desk, putting it down and picking up the letter from Mr. Bennet.

Returning to the cabinet and the spot where the chessboard had been, he opened the drawer below it, which was also labeled 'Bennet'. To Fitzwilliam's surprise it was so full that he had trouble sliding the final letter into the correspondence file. The two men must have played for years with a regularity that outmatched all the others he had looked at so far, aside from that of his uncle, Viscount Rand. With a sense of finality, he slid the drawer closed and turned away. He would pack up the tiny game board and send it off with the letter. That would be the end of any connection between Thomas Bennet and the Darcys of Pemberley.

Chapter 17: Collins

Tap. Tap. Tap. Lady Catherine's fingernail clicked with clockwork regularity against the arm of her chair. She was planning again, her mind wandering freely as she paid minimal attention to the flow of words pouring from the mouth of the young man seated before her.

Said young man, one William Collins, had fulfilled and even excelled all her hopes for him. Although it had been a struggle with a few judicious bribes on her part required to bring about, Collins had managed to complete his studies and pass the examination to become ordained. The bishop expressed doubts about his ability to manage a parish on his own and would probably not approve him if he were offered a living now, but that would change after he spent a few years as a curate. Lady Catherine could probably arrange matters with a little gift to the church. The living she had in mind for Collins was not open yet anyway, so there was time.

Still ignoring his words, she made another quick assessment of the man's looks. Although tall, his pudgy form made him appear shorter, especially given his tendency to stoop. She had noticed when he arrived that he moved awkwardly, lumbering and shuffling instead of walking and never quite picking up his feet. Even his features were bear-like, with his large nose nearly hiding his small, beady eyes. Rough, dark hair seemed to fight with the pomade he had liberally used in an attempt to control it, sticking up in small tufts that made him look completely unkempt. His clumsy movements, combined with his habit of standing too close to those with whom he conversed, suggested he probably had poor eyesight. Unfortunately, his grasp of personal hygiene was equally poor.

"...the beneficent gift of your patronage..." the words briefly caught her attention. At least, he was grateful and certainly not shy about saying so - repeatedly. She could amuse herself with his gratitude and use it to her advantage. Although annoying now, the fact that he whined as he spoke, like a dog begging for a treat even as he feared the whip, would make her eventual plans for him even more amusing. Such a man, if one could call him that, would be a constant embarrassment as a husband to any woman. A woman of intelligence, with the keen sense of self-respect Lady Catherine knew Elizabeth Bennet to possess, would be absolutely mortified by marriage to him. And marry him, she would - when the time was right.

Despite some early setbacks, Elizabeth Bennet had also developed according to plan. Intelligent was probably too mild a description for her. The girl learned quickly, simply soaking up any information to which she was exposed. As expected, Bennet had done his part, educating her as he would have done a son. Even at only fifteen years of age, her grasp of the usual course of studies common at university exceeded that of the average graduate. The girl far outstripped the specimen babbling away in front of Lady Catherine.

The wild manners that had been such a concern in her early years disappeared with age and instruction. Now she moved with grace and elegance that would suit the drawing rooms of the elite. Her speech in company kept pace, although Miss Stanton reported she could still be quite outspoken in private. By all reports, though, the woolly caterpillar was maturing into a glorious butterfly.

In addition to the languages her father had taught - Latin, Greek and Italian - she had gained fluency in French and even some skill in Spanish and German. If Lady Catherine had favored her goddaughter, she could easily have made a brilliant match for her among the diplomatic circles in a few years. It was almost a shame to pass up the opportunity, but Lady Catherine's dislike of the Bennets was too firmly seated. She had hated Thomas Bennet from the moment they met, even before she had married Lewis, and hate was a much stronger and more satisfying motive for her actions.

As with her academic education, Elizabeth's grasp of many other ladylike accomplishments was of the highest order. She danced with grace and put in the effort to keep current on all the latest steps. All the Bennet girls were talented in that regard, and much of their skill was due to Elizabeth insisting they regularly practice what their dance master taught.

She could draw and paint passably well, although art was one subject at which she did not excel. Apparently, it was the next-to-youngest Bennet girl, Katherine, who displayed true artistic skill, with the youngest not far behind. Still, Elizabeth performed well enough to be considered accomplished at art, especially when one considered her skill at fancy needlework. Surprisingly, however, Miss Stanton reported that the girl preferred plain sewing, making useful garments which were generally distributed to their tenants and the poor, to the fancy embroidery that showcased her skill. Low origins would out, Lady Catherine supposed.

At least her musical skills were of the highest quality. The early roughness of her work on the pianoforte had, with diligent and regular practice, smoothed into playing that was a joy to the discerning listener according to her governess. As with dancing, she encouraged all her sisters into playing skillfully, as well as learning to sing competently. Miss Stanton reported that Elizabeth and Jane performed pretty duets that made the older girl appear even more skilled than she was.

In truth, the intimacy between Elizabeth and her sisters that Lady Catherine had hoped to discourage was turning into something that could be used to advantage. The key was the strong sense of family loyalty Elizabeth developed instead of the pride they had attempted to foster in her. Loyalty was a weakness in Lady Catherine's eyes, almost as great a weakness as affection. When the time came, Elizabeth would humble herself more readily to protect her family than she would to protect herself. On Lady Catherine's orders, Miss Stanton was encouraging sororal affection as actively as she had previously discouraged it. Now, it was only the connection to the Gardiner family that was to be minimized. They were too likely to assist the girls with good marriages before Lady Catherine's own plans were completed.

Thoughts of plans reminded Lady Catherine that she would have to make a new plan for influence at Pemberley. How dare George Darcy prevent her from taking over Georgiana's upbringing? That had been a slap in the face that still made her want to throw things some six months after the will had been read, not that she would ever engage in such unladylike physical outbursts. No, she would express her anger in more devious ways.

Her brother and Richard were clearly still working against her, at least regarding the Darcys, even though she had managed to divide them on other matters through the use of that commission. She had even provided the funds for Richard to become a captain when it looked like her brother might be softening and considering financially supporting his son's career. By preempting him, she kept the disagreement alive and put Richard further into her debt. James Fitzwilliam reported that his father and Richard still corresponded only rarely, and Richard's occasional visits home were tense affairs. That, at least, was as it should be. She still needed to bind Fitzwilliam Darcy closer to her somehow, though. Perhaps a marriage would do the trick. He and Anne would be a good match.

Her daughter had turned out very well - quiet, biddable and demure. She never spoke out of turn or put herself unduly forward. Of course, she did not have the same catalog of accomplishments as the Bennet girls, but her higher status made that unnecessary. Due to Anne's frequent bouts of illness as a child, Lady Catherine had not wished to push her daughter into the activities or studies a more robust girl could learn without danger.

Dancing and playing an instrument were forbidden as requiring too much effort. Even singing could strain her lungs, so that was also avoided. Instead, Anne had become highly skilled at the more delicate pursuits like drawing and fancy needlework. Her governess reported that she spoke fluent French and could write an elegant letter. Other studies were discouraged as too heating for the brain. Few men would mind her lack of learning. She would make Fitzwilliam Darcy an excellent wife. Once Anne was installed at Pemberley, nothing would be more natural than for her concerned mother to visit regularly and assume control of the household - to ease the burden on her daughter, of course. Yes, that would be just what was needed.

She stopped tapping her fingernail. "Mr. Collins," she said, uncaring that he was mid-word as she did. The man almost swallowed his tongue in his haste to cease speaking.

"Yes, Lady Catherine?" he gulped out as quickly as he could.

"I wish to discuss your future," she said.

"I am yours to command," he replied, offering a strange, seated bow. "It is my duty as the humble recipient of…"

"Now," she said imperiously, cutting him off with both her voice and a quick, impatient gesture of her hand. He appeared to be swallowing his tongue again and even brought a hand up to his mouth as if to stop the words from spilling out.

"I have spoken to your bishop," she said in the silence that followed. "While you have passed the ordination exam, you require more experience before you could possibly lead your own flock. That suits my plans for you, however. I have arranged a place for you as a curate in a nearby parish."

The urge to speak overcame Collins. "Thank you, Lady Catherine. You are most generous in your support. I shall be ever grateful for your support and unstinting in my praise…"

"Mr. Collins!" she interrupted sharply. Again, his hand flew up to stop his mouth and she continued. "I shall be very clear about my requirements. First off, you are not to tell anyone, under any circumstances, that I am your benefactor until I tell you otherwise. Not a word! Not a gesture! Is that understood?"

Collins's tiny eyes widened as he stared at Lady Catherine in shock. "I…yes…well…" he stopped and then began again. "I see you do not wish to flaunt your good deeds to the world, but…"

"That excuse will do as well as any," she interrupted. "Just remember to remain silent on this point. No exceptions until I say the word. No one should know that there is any kind of connection between us or that you even know me. I insist on this point. If you fail me, there will be repercussions."