Chapter Text
“Dear, do you think a sermon on adultery would be appreciated by the congregation? Especially in light of the events surrounding our young cousin Lydia….” Mr. Collins wrote steadily with his quill, Bible opened to the left of him.
“Perhaps one on gossip would satisfy the good people. No doubt it would bring much joy to Lady de Bourgh.” Charlotte reclined on the stiff couch in her husband's study. He smiled in that dopey way she’d grown to despise. Elizabeth was right to warn her, William Collins really is the silliest man in all of England. There wasn’t even a flash of recognition of her intent behind his happy eyes.
“Right you are, right you are indeed.” Collins opened the drawer for a fresh page. She stood with a discontented huff, which of course, went unnoticed by her husband. Who seemed only focused on the task of thinking up and writing down his sermons. Journaling might prove to be therapeutic. Heaven knows she couldn’t tell anyone about her marital struggles. “May I have some pages, I would like to write a letter to our cousin Elizabeth.”
He gave them over with giddiness, clearly delighted in the way their hands touched as she took a few from the stack.
~•~Ideals and Idolatry~•~
The little desk in their room was nothing compared to the one in Mr. Collins study. She sat down hastily and began jotting.
24 July 1812
Although I had no previous affection for Mr. Collins, I presumed that my love for him would grow with time and intimacy. Though none of these assumptions have come to fruition. The only thing that has grown is my embarrassment of his talebearing ways.
How can a man of God go about betraying a confidence? Even his own cousins think he’s the silliest man in England. Mr. Collins scarcely understands a thing being said to him, and what he does understand, especially subjects scandalous in nature, are immediately relayed to Lady de Bourgh.
It is more then apparent that she is the true mistress of this house. Mr. Collins would not dare breathe a sore word about her, and I must admit that I’m quite disgusted in his inability to defend the honor of the Bennets and I. As any man worth his salt would speak up against her malicious words with Christ-like intentions, and do so gladly and whole heartedly.
A knock at the window broke her trance. Collins stood there with his dopey smile, blue eyes squinted in the sunlight. She opened the window with her usual soft expression and looked towards the delphinium he held. The clergyman gently took Charlottes hand and placed the perennial in her palm before closing her fingers around the stem. His hands were warm and slightly dirty, and despite her previous annoyance, Charlotte could feel a slight affection blooming in her chest.
“Thank you, Mr. Collins, it’s beautiful. I didn’t know you intended on gardening today.” The little purple petals she had fondly commented on back when she was first shown the garden had clearly remained within her husbands mind.
“I thought the fresh air would help me with my sermon, as you’ve said before dear, my health greatly benefits from my being outside.”
She nodded, twirling the flower thoughtfully.
“Have you completed your letter?” He was gazing behind her.
“Not yet, there’s much for me to write of.”
“Well, make sure you send her my regards.” He waved before disappearing into the garden.
She watched for a moment, and then returned to the desk.
Though Mr. Collins has many flaws, his good traits serve as a small compensation. I appreciate his attentiveness towards his garden and appearances in general. I’ve never gone without a suitable dress for a proper occasion, and he himself keeps very neat.
He is somewhat tall and masculine in the physical sense, which makes me feel very petite and feminine. I adore how he remembers the small comments I make, it certainly leaves me feeling like an object of admiration.
She picked up the delphinium, and ran her fingers along the cold, damp stem. Suddenly reminded of household tasks which needed her attention.
Leaving the flower by the letter, which she had gently folded despite the slightly wet ink, she exited the room and her writings were soon forgotten.
~•~Ideals and Idolatry~•~
Mrs. Collins squinted against the orange morning light pouring in through the fine glass window as she crawled out of bed.
The covers on William’s side were made up neatly. It was strange for him to be gone so early, usually he waited up for her before he left. She brought her arms above her head in a stretch, but paused. The journal, she realized, had not been hidden away the day previous.
Quickly, she went from the closet to the desk.
Those little pages of repressed feelings and sloppy prose were no longer folded on that chestnut surface upon which they had sat. Instead, it was now completely open faced. Lord, how could one be so careless? Charlotte sat down slowly on their mattress, eyes wide. A wave of sick washed over her, and she put her head in her hands, swallowing shakily.
In the twenty seven years Charlotte had spent at her parents house, never had there been a problem such as this, and never had she ever felt so ill prepared. Oh, how she wished she could take back those unkind words! Thoughts really were meant for oneself, not to be exposed with parchment and ink.
Forcing herself to stand; Mrs. Collins left their bedroom. There was a sort of vulnerability that hung around the empty hallways of Hunsford. It was so dreadful leaving the security of their bedroom.
“Mr. Collins?” She pronounced it softly as she peeked into his study. His office was as cluttered as it usually was, but the sermon which had been written yesternoon was still there, making it apparent that he had not left the property.
A chill pushed goosebumps up her skin, and Charlotte crossed her arms over her chest and bent her knees slightly. Her nightgown and bonnet did little to trap any warmth.
“Mrs. Collins?”
She whipped around so quickly it made her dizzy. “Oh, Mr. Collins! You’ve startled me, dearest!” Leaning against the door frame, she tried to slow her breathing.
“Were you searching for me?” His eyes took her in, they were not as cold as she imagined they would be.
“Yes…. well it’s just that-“ She swallowed weakly, and her knees shook. “You weren’t next to me when I awoke.”
He gently took her hands and they met each others for a moment. William did not look angry, just indifferent, maybe he did not read the letter after all. “I think you need to lie down, you’re looking of a sickly constitute.”
Her husband guided her back to their room and tucked her in. He pulled Charlotte's bonnet down so it covered her ears.
“Is your letter completed? I can take it to the post office today on my walk to Rosings.” He was pulling at his vest, and kept his eyes downcast.
“No Mr. Collins, it’s too out of the way. Perhaps we can go into town this Sunday and drop it off.”
“Yes, uh- well, I suppose I should go now.” He spat out the words quickly and gave her an awkward kiss on the forehead. Charlotte waited till he shut the door to turn on her side. Mrs. Collins pondered if William really had read those harsh things she had written.
It would be better for him to just come out and say he had, for not knowing was becoming hard to bear. Though, with the way she had been as of late, it would not surprise her to discover she had left the journal open by mistake.
Waiting for him to return home would be torturous, but she hoped his actions would be more telling.