discussed at length, the last ball potted, and Jane had left temporarily to wash her hands, the talk turned to love.
“But Bingley is completely and utterly crazy about her, Aunt G!” said Lizzy, sitting down at a small wooden table and drawing up another stool for her aunt. Lizzy was anxious for her wise aunt to understand the situation clearly.
“Many a young man declares himself crazy about a pretty girl one week and then another the next,” demurred Aunt G.
“Yes, but this is the real thing,” insisted Lizzy, leaning forward. “He is insanely in love. Anyone could see that. He hangs on Jane’s every word, follows her around like a devoted spaniel, ignores all the other Salcombe babes.”
“So why has he abandoned her?”
“Because his sister and the despicable Darcy think she is not good enough for him. They have stolen Bingley away!”
Aunt G gasped at this revelation, recovering only just in time to welcome Jane back to the table, where the evening took a very merry turn as they were joined by the jovial Wickham. Another bottle of blush led to some jolly banter. Aunt G could not fail to notice the glow that passed between Lizzy and Wickham. Common ground in knowledge of the late Mr Darcy was found between Wickham and Aunt G, which led to much discourse about Darcy’s father—a fine old gentleman both agreed—and of his proud, ill-natured boy, of whose characteristics Wickham was quite clear, and Aunt G had to search her memory banks to see if she could recall what the boy was like, but was guided by Wickham until at last she did vaguely recall that he might have been proud and ill-natured. Last orders were called, and the four returned in a slightly unsteady state to 3 Island Street for coffee, where lively conversation continued until the early hours.
Chapter 26
Mr Collins returned. He had the blessing of Lady Catherine de Brrr to marry and was keen to get on with things. Although there had already been four weddings and a funeral at Salcombe church that week, the vicar, once assured by Sir William Lucas that all the correct procedures had been completed, agreed to squeeze in one more wedding for Mr Collins and his fiancée. After the ceremony, the glowing groom whisked his young bride away to Hunsford. Throughout the whole affair, Lizzy tried to be happy for her friend, but she actually felt sick. How could Lottie have sacrificed herself in such a way? Still, they promised to text regularly, though Lizzy felt the intimacy had gone out of the relationship with such a barrier as Mr Collins between them.
Meanwhile, romance for the Bennet girls was seriously on the slide. Jane had buzzed off to London with Aunt G and Uncle G. She had called in on Cazza, who was courteous but cool and said Chas was busy with Darcy. Poor Jane was under no illusion that she had been dumped. Lizzy noticed Wickham’s attentions had moved on, too, to Mary King, a young lady who had just inherited a pink-hulled speedboat. Lizzy’s fortunes were no match for this. Like her dear sister, she, too, had been dumped.
Chapter 27
Yet startling news was to follow. Lady Catherine had condescended to offer the lodge of her magnificent Salcombe holiday home, “Rosings on the Rocks”, to the newly wed Mr and Mrs Collins as a honeymoon holiday destination. Lottie and Mr Collins would be returning to Salcombe to stay in “Little Rosings on the Rocks”, and Lady Catherine herself would be installed in the main house. Lizzy, Sir William, and Maria Lucas, Lottie’s sweet but dim sister, had been invited to stay for a few days at Little Rosings. Lady Catherine felt it would do them good to get out of the damp lowlands of Island Street, into the uplands of Cliff Road, and besides, she wanted to inspect them.
Chapter 28
Lizzy packed her blue-and-white Quba bag and set off in
Chapter 29
Poor Maria was in a state of great anxiety as she rummaged through her kit bag, desperately trying to find something suitable to wear for the evening’s entertainment. Lizzy was pleased with her recent Jack Wills purchases: a pink-and-white-striped shirt, which she wore with the sleeves turned up; a 100 percent cotton, mini- fit, antique denim skirt, which sat low on her hips; a thick, heavily buckled leather belt. Mr Collins was happy that she looked, if anything, a little relaxed for the occasion, as it was important not to outdazzle Lady Catherine.
Rosings on the Rocks was everything Mr Collins had boasted. Set in a concrete frame with steel bracing, it had an excess of glass-curtain walling with unrivalled views of the estuary.
“The structure,” explained Mr Collins, “is expressed as an ornamental order, the style high-tech modern. It has an unapologetic modern façade, combining a jagged profile in an elegant concrete frame that is braced by gunmetal grey and stainless steel rods oozing an airy spirit full of honesty but not lacking in bravado.”
Lizzy was amazed by Mr Collins’s erudite description and, for one horrible moment, thought she might have misjudged him, but Lottie soon explained: “A speech he has practised for some time,” she whispered. “
At that moment, a tall, powerful woman appeared on the balcony. She was dressed in skintight black jeans, a black strappy top embroidered with “Brrr” in diamanté. Her dyed blond hair was piled high, her nails painted blood red, her feet adorned with high-heeled golden slippers.
“Collywobbles, dahling!” she called. “Here you are at last and with all your little friends. Come on in! The Bloody Marys are waiting!”
Lady Catherine condescended to kiss each and every one of her guests on each cheek—twice, as Mr Collins recalled.
“Now you must be little Maria,” she cooed. “What a babe! Lottie, dahling—you never told me your little sis was so cute!” And to the delight of Mr Collins, she went on in this vein, welcoming all her guests.
“Now, Collywobbles—who is this?”
“Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”
“And how old are you, Miss Elizabeth Bennet?”
