3

Parson William Collins hurried self-importantly to bring the latest news to Lady Catherine De Bourgh. He could hardly contain his impatience as the butler slowly made his way inwards through the spacious rooms towards the large hall where Lady Catherine held court, even when only she and her daughter, Anne, were in attendance. After announcement of his wish for an audience was intoned in sepulchral tones by the old man, the Lady Catherine gave the slightest nod of her head, and the little man was waved forward. He made a deep obeisance to the woman seated like a queen on her throne.

"I come bearing grave news, Lady Catherine," he said and hesitated until she nodded her head for him to continue. "There has been a murder…" She cut him off and his hands flew his mouth and covered it lest he should speak while her Ladyship was speaking. His commoners' words should not intrude on hers in any circumstance. "Of what possible interest is a homicide to me and my daughter," she asked haughtily, and raised her chin in dismissal.

"Perhaps I should have mentioned at once that the homicide has been here in Rosings Park," he continued. His mouth opened to continue but a raised hand silenced him once more.

"In Rosings Park, you say!? That is not to be tolerated!" she proclaimed in a voice that was almost shrill with its indignation. Anne leaned forward and asked in a near whisper. "Who was the unfortunate victim?"

"Ah," Collins, continued, happy to have arrived at the most exciting part of his proclamation. "It was the daughter of your gamekeeper. Her name eludes me, of course, since I have little to do with such people…" Once again he froze and clapped his hands over his mouth at her Ladyship's sharp gesture.

"Why that would be my scullery girl… Jewel, I believe her name is. This is not to be borne! All her training has gone to waste. I must have the kitchen staff instructed to find and begin the training of a replacement."

Anne shot her mother an expressionless glance and then addressed the Pastor again. "Has the perpetrator of this foul act of villainy been identified and detained?"

Her mother raised the imperial hand again. "Of what possible interest is it to us of the doings of such maudlin and common folk, Anne? We must not allow our serenity to be disturbed by such as them."

Ann whispered in a barely audible tone. "If this murderer is still on the loose, we must take steps to increase out security, surely? Perhaps we should have Cousin Richard address the matter?"

"Ah!" the Mr. Collins began. "It was to request his assistance in this matter that made me hurry here without finishing my breakfast." Lady Catherine ignored him. "I shall ask that he send several men from the regiment to stand guard on the grounds and at the entrances to the manor. We must not be inconvenienced by such marauders."

Anne again turned her attention to the hapless clergyman who stood, clearly bursting to continue his narrative. "What funereal arrangements are being made for the poor girl?"

Collins cast a glance first in the direction of Lady Catherine, seeking permission to continue. She gave no indication of even having heard her daughter's question. He took her silence as acquiescence and ventured an answer. "Since her father is a widower, my wife, Mrs. Collins, has taken it upon herself to prepare the..." he hesitated, looked wildly around as though hoping the correct word would be hanging in the air before him, cleared his throat, and continued, "the… ah… the remains… for internment."

Lady Catherine again waved a dismissive hand. "If there is no other matter, Mr. Collins," she intoned, "you may return to your cottage and finish that breakfast you inform us was interrupted."

"Ah, yes, of course, Lady Catherine. A good day to you and Miss De Bourgh." Bowing and scraping his hat on the floor, he beat a hasty retreat. He was sweating profusely even before he left the manor and entered the bright sunlight. To his surprise he found his wife waiting for him, pacing nervously under an elm tree.

"What are you doing here, my dear? I thought you were performing a great act of Christian charity by attending to the funerary preparations."

"Indeed, I was doing just that and I have made such an enormous discovery that I hastened to find you to see if you would seek the counsel of Lady Catherine as what course of action we should follow.' She held out a trembling hand. "Maggie is continuing with the ablutions of the poor child, but I brought this to you. I found it clutched in the deceased's closed fist."

Rector Collins was almost annoyed when he realized that what she was showing him was a button! "And you thought to disturb her Ladyship with a button?" he asked, incredulity in both his voice and his face.

"Don't you see, my dear," his wife said in soothing tones. "It is a button from a jacket. Surely torn from the jacket of the monster who killed her as she was fighting for her life. There was a small amount of flesh and blood under her fingernails, also showing how she clawed at her attacker in defending herself."

"Hmm, I see your reasoning now and find it compelling." He pursed his thin lips. "I have just left her Ladyship and I am not sure she will welcome another intrusion to pursue a matter she does not seem to think concerns her. I would certainly not wish to convey to her that her opinion is not shared by all of us who depend on her good graces for both home and providence."

"Yes, I agree," his wife said, soothingly, "but what we want of her is not her concern in this matter, but her knowledge. If you look closely, husband, you will see there are faint lines on the surface of the button that seem to be a manorial crest. They are so faded from wear and age that I cannot make them out, but surely a woman of her Ladyship's pedigree and education will discern what we less fortunate mortals cannot. It may be she will deign to assist in the identification of the scoundrel we seek."

Collins shifted uneasily. On the one hand it seemed an opportunity to reveal his perspicacity in helping solve a foul murder. On the other there was the chance of offending her Ladyship by intruding once more on her morning. Finally, the possibility of self-aggrandizement won out and he beckoned to his wife, peremptorily, to follow him as he retraced his steps to the door of the manor where he once again summoned the butler by pulling on the bell cord.

A few minutes more and they were standing in front of Lady Catherine and her daughter. So far as Collins could discern neither had altered their position or occupation, both staring at him and wondering what this new interruption of their solitude meant, other than sheer impertinence on the part of the Parson from Hunsford Parsonage! Eyes shining with excitement, Collins stepped forward, his wife staying prudently in the rear. Bowing as low as he could without falling over, the little man extended a closed fist towards her Ladyship. "Forgive me for once more intruding on your privacy this morning, Lady Catherine (he nodded slightly in Anne's direction to include her in his apology- after all, who could tell when she would be mistress here… and his patron). "My wife… Mrs. Collins…" he said, breathlessly, "has made a most extraordinary discovery and we thought it best to bring it at once to your attention to seek your wisdom as to its meaning."

After a few moments pause, her Ladyship, said "Well?" in the most impatient tone she could muster.

"Oh yes… yes…" he stammered. He held out a somewhat shaky hand and opened it to reveal the button. Both woman leaned forward slightly to peer at the object. "Well!?" repeated her Ladyship. "What is it you are holding there?"

"Why… why… a button, Your Ladyship." He stammered, sweat breaking out profusely on his brow. He started to swipe at it and almost dropped the button. "My wife, in preparing the…uh… the remains for the funeral found it clutched in the dead girl's hand." Both woman recoiled sharply as though he held a live snake that writhed on his palm. Anne gave a slightly strangled shriek.

"I realize it is not the thing to discuss with gentle ladies," he continued in a rush, "but there are markings on the button which are faint and defy easy identification. We hoped with your superior knowledge you might recognize them and advance identification of the miscreant who has committed this atrocity on your property."

After a few moments she waved him closer. He held his hand up closer to her and said, "It seems to have been ripped from the waistcoat of the felon during the frenzy of her defense of her life and virtue. My wife and her assistant also found bits of flesh and blood under her fingernails which suggested she clawed at the man." Anne turned away, made a retching sound, then slid off her chair and fled the room.

Lady De Bourgh straightened herself. "You surely do not suppose I will take that object into my hand?" she demanded in a shrill voice. Collins shrank back, at a loss. "Of course, n… not, Lady Catherine," he stammered, looking wildly about for an escape route from the disaster he had put himself into. A moment later his wife was at his side. "If I may, Lady Catherine," she said. Covering her hand was a finely crocheted hanky. She took the offending button in her hand and placed in on the cloth. Holding it up towards the woman, she used a finger to push the button in a direction that allowed the lights in the room illuminate the object. Lady Catherine deigned to bow her head closer, peering at the faint lines. A moment later she gave a gasp of astonishment. Forgetting herself, she snatched the button up and peered closely at it in every direction, turning it over and over.

"Incredible," she whispered, mostly to herself. She looked at the woman before her. "And you say you found this clutched in the unfortunate's hand?" Mrs. Collins curtsied slightly (to her husband's delight at the show of respect fully warranted by her Ladyship's esteemed personage). "It was clutched in her right hand, as though torn from a jacket or waistcoat." She hesitated a moment, unsure whether to continue pressing for information. Curiosity won out. "Do you recognize the markings, Lady Catherine?" Without looking up, the older woman proclaimed, solemnly, but with a hint of glee in her voice. "Yes, Mrs. Collins, indeed I do. Faded with wear, but none the less, to me as clear as though newly minted. It is the emblem of House Pemberley!" she announced in ringing tones. "Now we will see justice done against those that took so lightly a solemn oath sworn between mothers!" she finished, triumphantly.

Mr. and Mrs. Collins looked at each other uneasily, uncertain as to the meaning of what they were hearing. "Ah, yes, Lady Catherine," Collins began, timidly. "You feel you have discerned some aspect of the matter that should be brought to the attention of the Magistrate, then? I understand one is in the area judging some cases of poaching…" She cut him off with an imperious gesture.

"Speak nothing of this object to anyone," she cried. "Do I have your word?" She glared from one to the other. "Oh, of c…c… course," Collins stammered. "Whatever your Ladyship decrees shall be done." She shifted her glare to his wife, who answered stiffly. "I follow the instructions of my husband, of course." Lady de Bourgh frowned slightly, but in the end gave a nod of satisfaction. She put the button, wrapped in the dainty handkerchief in her chatelaine.

"I shall see that the course of justice is indeed pursued by a Magistrate, whether this local one, or perhaps one from London with a good reputation for hanging miscreants," she announced as she rose and left the room. The couple hesitated a few moments until the butler cleared his throat. Wordlessly, the trio moved to the front doors. The footmen opened the door and bowed respectfully as the Pastor and his wife departed. The butler merely stared after them as though assuring himself they were indeed leaving. Finally, he nodded and the footmen closed the doors.