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When her minders believed she was in an opium-induced sleep, they would leave her alone in her chambers. That was the only safe time to write her letter to her uncle. The letter was written and sealed. Anne had hidden it in a crack in the wall behind her headboard. She planned to put it in her pocket on Monday, and after, that is if, Mr Collins called on her mother, she would go for a ride in her pony-pulled phaeton. It was the only exercise Mother allowed her, and of course Mrs Jenkinson always rode with her, which was why Anne had not been able to take a letter into Hunsford to post. They were followed by a footman and groom for her security, or so her mother said. Anne knew better. They were lackeys there to make sure she did nothing to which Mother would object.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
William Collins did not object to visiting his patroness one morning each week. After all, it was possible, although highly improbable, she would have something of sense to say. His hopes were dashed as soon as he presented himself to her on Monday morning.
“Mr Collins, do I need to call the magistrate to arrest you?” Lady Catherine demanded. She needed to intimidate the lowborn man, and this was an effective way to do so.
“Why would the magistrate need to arrest me?” William asked calmly, not rising to the bait.
“One of my grooms reported you have a thoroughbred stallion in your stables,” Lady Catherine insisted. She would put this uppity parson in his place so he would do her bidding. “You cannot afford such an animal, so you must have pilfered it. Of course, you did! It is not like you can afford eight hundred pounds per chimney piece like I am able. The re-glazing of the windows cost three thousand pounds. Can you afford that? No, so I know that you are not able to afford such a horse.”
“Lady Catherine, are you aware you are accusing me of being a horse thief when it is absolutely not true? As such, I am able to have you charged with slander,” Collins stated firmly. “Not that it is your concern, but the Collins family has been at the estate of Collins Hollow, which earns not much less per annum than this one, for longer than the de Bourghs have owned Rosings Park. My father could well afford to purchase stallions for both my brother and me, and he has all the paperwork at his estate which I can send for when I lay a charge of slander against you.”
Rather than feeling smug about cowing her parson, Lady Catherine felt real fear. She could not afford to be found guilty of slander. If she was, no one would believe her when she tried to claim that Anne and Fitzwilliam had wed. As he would not bend to her will, she would sack him and then find a man who would do everything she demanded.
“You are sacked, Mr Collins. I will not have my parson thinking so well of himself to threaten me in my own house. Your appointment was at my pleasure, and it is no longer so,” Lady Catherine screeched.
William let out a bark of derisive laughter. “You cannot sack me,” William shot back. “You may not be familiar with canon law, but I am, and more importantly, so is my bishop. A living is for life once ratified by the local bishop, and there is nothing you can do to remove me. That can only be done by my bishop, and then only for severe misconduct on my part. Not bowing to your desires would not be counted as such.”
“How dare you speak to me in that way? Do you know who I am?” Lady Catherine blustered while she was reeling. How was it that nothing she said to Mr Collins was effective? “Of course I can sack you. You have not been here long enough for a bishop to ratify your appointment.”
“I must respectfully disagree with you. I went to see Bishop Lankershim in Westerham the day you appointed me, and he ratified the appointment right away. You are free to contact his office for verification,” William stated evenly. He paused and decided this was the time to threaten the living being removed from her authority. “Lady Catherine, I was sent to apply for the Hunsford living by my bishop with the express approval of His Grace, the Archbishop of Canterbury. I will speak plainly. They are very concerned at your attempts to interfere in the ecclesiastical realm, not to mention your poor treatment of the parishioners. If you continue on this path, then the Archbishop will remove the living I hold from Rosings Park’s gift for as long as you have authority to appoint a parson.”
There was nothing she could say. She was stuck with Mr Collins. How was she to work on Fitzwilliam to marry Anne now? She sat on her throne looking out, but seeing nothing. Lady Catherine did not see when Mr Collins gave a quick bow and left the drawing room. Nor did she notice when Anne soon took her leave as well.
Try as she may, Lady Catherine could not come up with any plan. She needed time to think. She would conquer this!
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
“Mrs Jenkinson, I intend to ride out in my phaeton,” Anne stated soon after the confrontation between her mother and Mr Collins.
“Do you not need to rest?” Mrs Jenkinson wondered.
Thankfully, Mother was still in a stupor after the shocks delivered by Mr Collins, so she had not issued any orders for Anne to rest. “Has my mother said that I need to rest?” Anne demanded.
“No, Lady Catherine has not said so. However, this is the time you normally have your next drink of cordial and then rest,” Mrs Jenkinson stated.
“You know that my mother is not in the best of moods after Mr Collins was so disrespectful to her. Would you like to go and ask her whether I am allowed to take a ride in my phaeton?” Anne bluffed. She knew that Mrs Jenkinson was far too timid to go and disturb Lady Catherine.
“It is very thoughtful of you to allow your mother some quiet after the way that man spoke to her,” Mrs Jenkinson said in capitulation. “I will make sure I have your heavy shawl and pelisse. Will you wait here or should we meet near the front doors?”
“I will take a slow walk to the stables to have the ponies hitched to the phaeton. If I do not see you there, then the footman, groom, and I will wait for you under the portico in the small carriage,” Anne stated. She saw the lady about to object, but she thought better of it. Mrs Jenkinson made her way towards the family floor to retrieve the items, and Anne made her way down the stairs. She gave her pocket a single pat to ensure that her letter, wrapped in the additional page for Mr Collins, was where it should be.
She passed the butler in the entrance hall, who wisely held his tongue when Anne stepped out of the house. As she walked towards the stables, she admired the verdant trees dotted around the park. Moments of freedom like this one were too few and far between for her not to drink in everything around her. Anne loved the feel of the sun on her face while she walked and enjoyed the birdsong serenading her.
On arriving at the stables, Anne issued instructions to hitch the ponies to her phaeton. A groom and footmen led a pair of geldings out and stood by them while the carriage was made ready. At the same time one of the grooms was checking that everything was connected properly, Mrs Jenkinson arrived with the two heavy items in hand.
As much as Anne did not want to don the heavy pelisse and have the equally heavy shawl draped over her shoulders, she said not a word in complaint as Mrs Jenkinson wrapped her up according to Lady Catherine’s dictates.
Soon enough they were on their way. Anne guided her ponies to the path that led up towards the gaudy folly in the style of a Greek temple Mother had wasted money on having constructed. She did not want to go directly to the parsonage because that would raise suspicions in Mrs Jenkinson, and they would be reported back to her mother.
When they reached the intersection of a few paths, rather than continue on towards the folly on the hill, Anne guided her ponies into the farther of the two groves so she could stop at the glade.
How she used to love spending time at the glade with her late father. Papa had four benches placed around the pond where, ignoring his wife’s objections, he would take Anne to find peace in this little part of natural heaven. There had been a time when Mother had wanted to cut all the trees down in the groves, as they were, in her words ‘untidy.’ Thankfully Papa had overruled her and had a clause in his will stating that anyone who was responsible for cutting the trees down would be evicted from his estate. Whenever she came to the glade, Anne felt closest to her beloved Papa. If only his heart had not been weak, prematurely sending him to be with God.
It was a year after his passing when Mother had her plans to betroth Anne to William rejected again, and she had begun to demand that the cordial be administered. Thank goodness Anne only pretended she was being affected by the drugged drink. If Lady Catherine, or one of her minions, suspected Anne was not drinking the laudanum, they would have found a way to force her to do so.
Even though she was quite capable of alighting without assistance, Anne waited until the footman came to hand her down. She had to maintain the fiction that she was weak and feeble. She did not like prevaricating, but if she needed to be a fabulist to protect herself, then so be it.
