"But this is Salisbury's," he muttered.
"He must have seen me," Mrs. Collins reasoned. "He appeared just as you have, made a few conjectures, and pressed this into my hand. It was strange, but there was nothing inappropriate, I assure you."
Mr. Kelly studied the snuff box and the lady, in succession, until he finally decided to bury the offering in his own coat pocket and focus his attention on the lady.
"You have not enjoyed your success," he observed in a flat voice.
"I would have enjoyed my defeat even less," she countered, studying his face.
"And what do you enjoy?" Mr. Kelly asked.
Mrs. Collins’s eyes drifted to the point just beyond Mr. Kelly's shoulder as she pondered the question. The smallest smirk of a smile lit her countenance as her eyes sought her Inquisitor's.
"Solitude," she replied, her voice quivering with mirth, "good humor," she added thoughtfully, "and understanding," she finished with a quiet decidedness.
Mr. Kelly, at length, nodded, after sifting through a rush of memories through these filters. Wordlessly, he offered his arm, and the pair silently began their return to the house.
He had every intention of speaking to Charlotte's maid in order to assure himself that the proper actions would be taken to rewarm her thoroughly chilled body, but upon crossing the threshold, such a chaos, including calls of “It’s time,” and, “The doctor and midwife are on their way,” enveloped them that he was unable to recall at a later time how exactly Charlotte had disappeared from his side.
Chapter 5
"Mistress," the maid beckoned from the doorway, her breathing not quite even since she had raced down the stairs to the kitchens. "A gentleman caller is here," she continued in wondrous tones, "for you." She giggled giddily, adding, "Knowing your likely state, I begged him to wait in the best parlor while I came to fetch you."
Her mirth quickly dissipated though when, a moment later, she spun on her heel to leave, but, in the place of the open doorway, she found, instead, his chest.
The maid recovered with surprising poise, even going so far as to straighten her cap, before bobbing her curtsy and fleeing forthwith.
"Thank you, Mary," Mrs. Collins said with alacrity before turning her gaze to her visitor. "I believe you must be early," she added to him, in the way of an apology for her appearance and lack of welcome.
"So I am," the gentleman replied readily, "but the day was so fine, and the invitation so eagerly received, that I hoped an earlier appointment might be a welcome intrusion."
The lady dropped her eyes to the task at hand but glanced surreptitiously at her assistant whose attempt to maintain a neutral expression was leaving her face rather contorted.
"Martha," the lady began, "you will not mind finishing these biscuits? They are a particular favorite of Mrs. Darcy."
"I believe I can manage, Mrs. C.," Martha replied with as much dignity as she could muster.
"Mary and Martha," Mr. Kelly noted to himself aloud. "How Biblical."
"With the one doing all the work, and the other frittering about making herself ridiculous," the staid Martha retorted.
Mrs. Collins rolled her lips, casting her visitor a knowing look. Casting off her apron, she thanked the cook and led her guest towards the stairs.
"I believe I must have come at an inconvenient time," he said meekly.
"Nonsense," was the amused reply.
The gentleman was still unsure until, pausing at the banister to let the lady attain the narrow stairs first, he happened to catch that special smile she seemed to reserve only for him.
"Though, now you are here," the lady expanded as she mounted the steps, "you shall be put to work." She paused with a foot on the stair above and peered over her shoulder. "I hope you are prepared to walk?" But, without waiting for an answer, she resumed her climb to the floor above. “I shall meet you downstairs directly."
"I brought you a horse. She’s a bit of a nag, but she always had a way with the local tenants and farmers and such," he admitted thoughtfully, "and I hoped she would be useful to you." His eyes burned into hers. "I was not at all convinced that you were ready for such an endeavor as this after all you did for the Darcys."
Charlotte squared her shoulders, smiling bravely. "It was an honor to be of some help to Mrs. Darcy and the midwife," she said simply. "Kate may use her beauty to win approval, but her intentions are focused on others. I wish you could have seen the assistance she provided, as well."
The words were spoken in hushed tones but were nonetheless passionate, as if delivered from one beloved parent to another. It took them both by surprise, and they stepped away from each other involuntarily. The lady recovered quickly, quipping to her companion that it was time to be off.
The horse, laden with saddlebags full of pantry items wrapped in paper, was hitched to a buggy in the driveway. Charlotte sighed at the sight while striding to the beast's side to reassure the animal of her good intentions.
Mr. Kelly could not hear her spoken words, but he might appreciate Charlotte's actions - the unhitching of the buggy and the offer of the two heaviest baskets to her companion.
"Are you opposed to horse-drawn buggies?" he inquired as he took the baskets. Charlotte clenched her jaw but responded within moments.
"Dear Ginger is as old as I am, I am sure, and is deserving of some consideration."
"Perhaps we should hitch ourselves up instead and allow poor Ginger the seat at the reins," Mr. Kelly responded with aplomb.
Charlotte giggled in spite of herself, rolling her eyes towards her ridiculous assistant. "And would it not make the statement of the century?"
"We should make it no further than McLean's, I am sure," he stated with droll amusement, "so let us not attempt it."
While the idea of being represented in a ridiculous caricature was unflattering, still Charlotte could not but be entertained by the thought.
"Well, Ginger will be content to be our escort," she rallied. “The parson here has gone to visit his ailing mother for a week, and I thought a visit to his parishioners would not be unwelcome. I have made it my habit to visit them whenever I am at Pemberley, and that is at least once a year. Do you not agree that making the rounds is in order?”
He nodded. “I do, indeed, though I would not have thought of it myself. What I do not understand is why you refuse to use the buggy I brought for you.”
“Without the burden of a buggy,” Charlotte explained as they traveled along the way, “smaller paths and trails are available to us. We should never have come across Mr. Hawkins on the road, for instance, where we could enquire after his ailing father and pass along an encouraging gift of berry preserves. Nor would we have found Miss Kettering, a cherished elderly spinster, on such a busy highway. She favors the mint jelly.”
However, proudly carrying a package of ribbons and laces home, Miss Laura Lee’s attempt at pleasantries left Charlotte and Mr. Kelly in little doubt of her real intent. She could hardly wait to pass on the news of Mrs. C. with her Town-beau.
Upon arriving at the drive leading to a simple farmhouse, Mrs. Collins paused.
"Mrs. Saxon is a dear friend," she began. "Though we do not share the same status in society, I have long forgotten those lines." Her expression was unsure.
"Any friend of yours must be worthy of my respect as well," replied Mr. Kelly.
Mrs. Collins turned on her heel and led the way down the path towards the respectable house of wood and stone. Additions had been made to the original structure as the family grew in prosperity and number. The land beyond was divided into pasture and crop, and the utilization of both was evident.