Chapter 29
Lady Catherine de Bourgh shook off her mortal coil in October of that year. Collins stayed to see her interred in the de Bourgh plot, then returned home. He seemed out of spirits, as if a part of him had been buried with his great Patroness. Elizabeth tried to cheer him up, but nothing seemed to work.
The ladies of the house had bumped heads for the last time. Elizabeth could no longer stand her Mother's overbearing ways and suggested she spend time with Jane. Mrs. Bennet declared it a fine way to treat ones Mother, but had her trunks packed nevertheless.
"I am sorry Jane," Elizabeth wrote, "but Mother has patronized me and my husband for the last time! Do with her as you wish, just keep her away from Longbourn long enough for my head to cool. I am sending Mary to Uncle Gardiner's after Christmas, so Mama may return then, if the roads are passable. Expect her a day or two after you receive this letter."
Mrs. Bennet and Lydia left in a huff the first of November, their parting barely civil. The house was a lot quieter without her Mother's prattle and demands.
"My dear," Elizabeth said one morning as they were taking their breakfast, "the rain has let up, we should inspect the fences and the cottages."
"Yes," was Collins short reply, "I shall ride out after breakfast."
Elizabeth sighed. Collins usual verbose manner had been greatly reduced since Lady Catherine's death. She would have been thankful for her husbands truncated answers before, but now it worried her. When he left Elizabeth took herself to the nursery and spent time with Will before dedicating the rest of the morning to answering letters. It was noon before she realized Collins had not returned. A task that usually took no more than two hours had suddenly drawn out to four.
"Has Mr. Collins returned?" Elizabeth asked Hill.
"No mum," she answered.
Elizabeth walked out to the stables and asked the stable master if her husband had returned, even though she saw Mustard's empty stall. He replied he had not and a dark knot suddenly formed in Elizabeth's chest. She cast her eyes about the property as if she could force her vision to seek her husband out.
"Please, gather some men and comb the land around the fences. I shall go to the cottages."
Elizabeth rushed to the lane where the tenants were housed, knocking on doors, asking if anyone had seen her husband. They all responded that he had arrived earlier asking if their roofs and held up and if there was anything they needed. No one had seen him for hours. She went home hoping someone had some news of him, but none of the men returned.
Luncheon was served, but Elizabeth could not eat a bite for fear it would come back up again. A loud commotion coming from the kitchen startled Elizabeth. A man she recognized entered, cap in hand, huffing and puffing.
"Mrs. Collins, yer husband, he fell. They're bringing him now."
Elizabeth stood up and rushed out the door. Down the drive she could see a crowd of men carrying someone on a stretcher. "No!" She shrieked, falling to her knees. She was half aware of someone helping her up and leading her to a chair.
"Go fetch Mrs. Lucas!" A voice commanded. "Now, now, Lizzy, all will be right."
Little Will's cries could be heard in the other room, more shouting, and Elizabeth's vision blacked out.
When she awoke it was dark and she was in her room. She wondered how she had gotten there, and slowly the events of the day returned to her memory. She turned her head and saw a sleeping Mary in the chair by her bed.
"Mary," Elizabeth called, waking her sister.
"You're awake," Mary rubbed at her eyes then offered Elizabeth a cup of water.
"Mr. Collins broke his leg when he fell from the horse," Mary said as she drank, "he was out in the elements for so long Mr. Jones thinks he may have to amputate if it becomes infected."
A sharp fear pierced Elizabeth's heart. She knew instinctively that this was her punishment for her sins. Why else would the Lord seek to take away her husband but to show her what she had pushed away. It didn't matter that she had tried to make amends over the last year.
Mary helped Elizabeth dress and she made her way to her husbands room. He laid in his bed, deep in sleep. His leg was wrapped in bandages and resting on top of a mountain of pillows. A young serving girl was sitting in the corner mending a garment by candlelight. Elizabeth motioned for her to leave her alone with her husband, and once the door was shut she rushed to his side.
His forehead was shiny with perspiration. Elizabeth grabbed the wet washcloth on the table, soaked it in the bowl of water, then wiped his face down. She adjusted his covers,then brought the empty chair close to the bed and sat beside him. His features were calm and she suspected he was under the influence of laudanum. She remembered quite well the vivid dreams she had had during her own sickness and wondered if Collins were experiencing the same.
"Oh, William," she sighed, grabbing his hand in her own, "please do not leave me."
And then, as if the spoken words opened a door, Elizabeth began crying at his bedside, praying to God, promising she would do anything as long as William Collins could live.
Mr. Collins remained in bed for days before his leg turned gangrenous. Mr. Jones was summoned and he took one look at the leg, the puss oozing out of the wound, and the vivid red lines running up his leg.
Shaking his head, Mr. Jones said, "There is nothing I can do. The infection has spread too fast."
Elizabeth turned to Mary who embraced her sister, wishing she could be of more comfort. Mr. Jones left more laudanum for Mr. Collins and even prescribed a small vial of something for Elizabeth to take with tea. Late at night, when the household was fast asleep, Elizabeth sat awake in Mr. Collins room, refusing to leave his side, hoping she'd get one last time to be with him should he wake. To pass the time she talked of Little Will, what mischief he was getting in to, etc...
"William," she said, determined that he should not die without her confession, "I did not love you when we first married, seeking only to secure my future. I have not been faithful to you, selfishly thinking I deserved love if I could not have it with you. I am sorry, and ask for your forgiveness."
Suddenly his hand was squeezing her own. She looked up into his face and saw his eyes had opened slightly, and the pressure on her hand happened again. Then, as if a gush of wind came through the room, she felt her husbands soul leave his body, which went limp, sinking lifeless back into the bed.
