Page 21 of A Sisterly Bond

The situation was strange and disturbing; what Mr King could be doing in Kent was impossible to imagine.

Their amazement was complete when, at the door, appeared a very disturbed Mr King, the image of utter distress and misery.

Sir William immediately stood up, while Mr King stepped forward.

“I cannot apologise enough for disturbing you, but I was lost as to how to proceed further! I beg your forgiveness, and I pray Mr Darcy will grant me a few minutes of his time. There is an urgent matter that cannot be delayed and requires immediate attention. Forgive me…it is a great emergency, otherwise I would have never dared to intrude!”

“Mr King, what happened?” Charlotte asked the clearly distraught gentleman. “Are you injured, sir? You look very ill indeed!”

“I must speak to Mr Darcy, if he would be so kind as to grant me a few minutes of his time,” Mr King repeated.

Mr Darcy, dumbfounded, looked at Elizabeth, then at Lady Catherine, who looked utterly furious at the interruption. Elizabeth herself was confused, struggling to guess what could possibly bring Mr King to Rosings in that perturbed state of mind.

She expected Lady Catherine to throw the gentleman out, but, to her astonishment, Mr Darcy stepped towards him.

“Let us go to the library, Mr King, so we can speak privately. A few minutes of my time is not too much to ask. Please begin your dinner without me, and I shall return shortly.”

“But, Nephew, this will not do!” Lady Catherine cried angrily.

“Aunt, the sooner I attend to this matter, the sooner I shall return to dinner,” Mr Darcy replied before showing Mr King out.

Sir William seemed to remember that he had been asked for too; he hesitated a moment, glanced around the table, his face changed colour again, and then he stood up and hurried to follow the other two men.

Behind them, Lady Catherine and the rest of the party sat in silence, lost for words until her ladyship burst out to express her disapproval of such horrible manners and such an appalling breach of decorum.

Elizabeth mused that she had never had so little appetite and so much curiosity during a dinner party. Mr Darcy was the last man in the world to whom she expected Mr King to apply for anything whatsoever.

Chapter 9

Mr Darcy and Sir William returned to the dining-room sometimes later, both silent and visibly distressed.

“And where is that Mr King?” Lady Catherine asked harshly. “Should we expect him to return and ruin the next course too?”

“He has taken his leave of Rosings already, Aunt,” Mr Darcy replied. “I am sorry for the disturbance, but he does not deserve such rebuke. As he mentioned, he had a family problem that required immediate assistance.”

“But you said you did not even know him! How could you be of any help to a stranger?”

“Unfortunately, I could not help much, but I did provide him with some useful knowledge. Now please let us return to our dinner.”

With that, he turned his attention to his plate; only his gaze travelled towards Elizabeth occasionally.

Lady Catherine, whose temper had not improved during their absence, fixed her nephew with a look of severe displeasure.

“Well, I trust this extraordinary interruption is now concluded. I cannot recall a more ill-mannered intrusion in all my years at Rosings. To burst in upon a private dinner — and at such an hour!”

Mr Darcy inclined his head but offered no explanation. Sir William, for his part, knowing the reproach was meant for him, looked as though he had aged a decade in those short minutes and he could scarce meet any eye at the table.

Lady Catherine, however, was not to be denied the satisfaction of expressing her opinion.

“And you, Sir William,” she continued, turning upon him with marked severity, “I am astonished that a man of your standing should encourage such acquaintances. A rude friend, indeed, to force his way into a house where he has no introduction and demand private discourse with my nephew. One wonders what sort of company is kept in Hertfordshire, if such behaviour is countenanced. I should hope, Mr Collins, that you take care in the selection of your connections. It reflects poorly upon the parsonage — and, by extension, upon those who have the goodness to receive its inhabitants.”

Mr Collins flushed a deep crimson and began an incoherent apology, assuring her ladyship that he had never imagined such a breach, that Mr King was scarcely known to him, and that he would take the utmost care in future. Charlotte sat very still, her expression carefully composed, while Maria looked ready to sink beneath the table.

Elizabeth, though heat rose in her cheeks at the implied censure of her own neighbourhood, held her tongue. She was far too occupied with trying to guess what could possibly have brought Mr King to Rosings in such a state, and what private business could have drawn both Mr Darcy and Sir William from the room with equal urgency.

Lady Catherine continued her remarks throughout the remainder of the meal, finding fault with the second course, the arrangement of the candles, the silence of her guests, and the general decline of manners in the younger generation. No one present escaped her notice. Miss de Bourgh was admonished for not eating enough, Colonel Fitzwilliam was told that his regiment must be suffering from his prolonged absence, and Mr Darcy received a sharp observation upon the necessity of attending to one’s own family before strangers.

The dinner ended early. Nobody was in a humour for cards or music, and the usual after-dinner entertainment was abandoned without protest. When the time came for the party from the parsonage to depart, Lady Catherine made no offer of the carriage. They were left to walk the half a mile, a circumstance that Mr Collins lamented in a continuous low murmur all the way down the avenue.