Dear lovely readers, thank you for reviewing my two other stories. You've given me encouragement to continue. Now I have another little story for your enjoyment. Written together with N.H., this Regency tale is a mystery again (I'm a little bit in love with this genre at the moment). The body count is not high. It has about 20 chapters.

Since a lot of us are confined at home during the pandemic, I will try to post this twice a week, Thursdays and Sundays (Sydney time) so you will have a shorter wait in between cliff-hangers. In return, I hope you will be generous and give me more comments, even with just one word/smiley as encouragement. It will spur me on with the next story. Now without further delay, happy reading! Stay safe and healthy in this challenging time! Big warm hugs from Sydney, Enid.

All rights are reserved. Please do not post it anywhere else or share it without my permission. Thank you.

Happiness in Marriage

Chapter One

"How much do think the shade from Lady Catherine's eight hundred pounds chimney-piece will cast over the parsonage?" Elizabeth jested. "Charlotte may need to have the candle burning when we eat luncheon every day."

Maria giggled, "Charlotte shall not waste money on such extravagance in her home, using the candle during the day!"

"You seem to be in excellent spirits for this leg of our journey, Lizzy. I was worried when we were traveling to London that you might be suffering from a bit of melancholy," Sir William Lucas remarked solicitously as the carriage conveying himself, his daughter Maria, and their friend and neighbor Elizabeth Bennet left the high road and turned down the lane to Hunsford.

"Indeed, I think I was preoccupied with concern for my dear sister Jane. Seeing her so content with our aunt and uncle in London quite allayed my worries, and I am a much more agreeable traveling companion now, I hope," Elizabeth smiled. Sir William was an invariably kind man, but had not the power of making interesting conversation and had perhaps been counting on her to enliven the journey to visit his eldest daughter Charlotte, now Mrs. Collins. "And it is such lovely weather for traveling today. I should almost be sorry to arrive and end our journey, but for the prospect of seeing Charlotte's new home."

"I'm sure the parsonage will be very lovely, especially with the patronage of Rosings. From what Mr. Collins has told us, Lady Catherine de Bourgh would never permit a ramshackle parsonage connected to her estate," Maria Lucas stated solemnly. In his brief acquaintance with the Lucas family, Mr. Collins had decidedly impressed Maria with his boasts of intimacy with Lady Catherine. Elizabeth reflected that Maria was really too young and sheltered to see how empty and foolish those boasts must really be.

"Oh, I believe this must be part of Rosings park that we're driving along," commented Sir William. "We are very nearly to the parsonage now."

Presently the carriage stopped at the gate of the parsonage, which did indeed seem to be a pleasant home. As their party descended from the carriage and began to walk up the short gravel path, Mr. Collins appeared at the door. Elizabeth couldn't help recalling the events of a few short months ago, when Mr. Collins had proposed marriage to her and had been quite baffled at her refusal. His consternation had been nothing compared with her own mother's outrage at Elizabeth's actions. The Bennet family's home was legally entailed to pass to Mr. Collins, who was a relative, on Mr. Bennet's death. If Elizabeth could have brought herself to accept Mr. Collins's offer, she would have ensured that her mother and younger sisters wouldn't be turned out and destitute in the future. Marriage to Mr. Collins had been simply unthinkable, though. Elizabeth still found herself wondering how her dear friend Charlotte could endure being forever yoked with such a silly, insufferable bore.

"Welcome, welcome!" cried Mr. Collins heartily as their small party drew near his doorway. Elizabeth wondered if it was her imagination, or perhaps she was overly-critical of the foolish little man, but there seemed to be something distinctly uneasy in his manner. "Do come in. It's fine weather for early March, but still a bit chilly nonetheless. Lady Catherine always maintains that people are much more susceptible to illness after traveling and I must say I quite agree. There's a lovely fire in the parlour, you must step right in."

The travelers followed their host indoors, regaled every step of the way with Mr. Collins's comments regarding the wallpaper pattern that Lady Catherine had recommended to him, the furniture that she advised him to purchase, and the excellent dinner he had enjoyed with her only the past Tuesday. But there was no mention, Elizabeth noticed, of his new wife. Glancing around the parlour once they entered, she could see no sign of her friend, not even evidence of Charlotte's taste in any of the furnishings.

"Yes, yes, please sit here by the fire. This chair, if I may recommend it, my fair cousin, is particularly comfortable. It actually came from Lady Catherine's study, if you can believe me! It was of no use to her once she refurbished that room, and she very generously thought of me. Lady Catherine is truly the most considerate and kind patroness one could hope to find. I shall just see to the tea, I'll be only a moment." And Mr. Collins disappeared from the room before anyone could reply.

"This certainly is a lovely room," commented Maria as she settled in a chair that apparently did not have the distinction of having once graced Lady Catherine's home, but was nonetheless quite comfortable. "Charlotte must be so pleased to be mistress of such a pleasant home."

"I wonder that she isn't here to greet us, though," Elizabeth frowned. "It's not like her to forget our coming."

"Mama said that Charlotte must be very absorbed with her new duties as a clergyman's wife," suggested Maria. "Mama spent much time during the weeks leading up to the wedding instructing Charlotte exactly how a clergyman's wife must act in every conceivable situation. I was quite exhausted only hearing it all! I imagine Charlotte must be out somewhere attending to ailing parishioners or something like that right now."

"Ah, yes, that must be it," Sir William agreed. "I do think Charlotte has just the temperament to make a fine minister's wife."

"She certainly does. I know of no one so practical and kind as Charlotte." Elizabeth felt this was true, although she often wondered if Charlotte's practicality had not outweighed good sense in the case of marrying Mr. Collins. The Lucas family was large, and in spite of Sir William's title, not very wealthy. Charlotte had been facing spinsterhood, much to her mother's dissatisfaction, as a twenty-seven year old woman with no dowry and very plain looks, and had decided that security and a home of her own were worth marrying someone as ridiculous as Mr. Collins. Elizabeth could not deny the practicality of the choice, but she also could not help feeling disappointed with her friend as well. They had been very close, and Elizabeth knew perfectly well that Charlotte shared her opinion of Mr. Collins as foolish and self-important. Could any amount of security be worth living with a man you could not respect or admire? Clearly the two friends had come to very different conclusions on the subject.

"Here we are, tea for the travellers. Do be careful with that tray, Betty! It was a gift from Lady Catherine." Mr. Collins bustled back into the parlour a few steps ahead of his harassed-looking maid, who set the tea service down with something less than reverence and proceeded to carelessly serve the guests. Once she left the room, Mr. Collins shook his head sadly.

"It has been so very trying to teach the servants to do things as I would wish them done. Lady Catherine said that there are certain standards for service in a minister's home, yet I am afflicted with the most surly creatures."

"It can be quite a plague, I certainly agree," remarked Sir William affably. Elizabeth stared at Charlotte's father. He was a courteous and kind man, but surely he would notice that there was something amiss here.

"I confess I am quite surprised to hear that, Mr. Collins," she stated, setting down her teacup firmly. "Charlotte has always had such a temperament for getting servants to follow her instruction. Indeed back home, I believe Lady Lucas quite relied on her to deal with the servants on a day-to-day basis."

"That's true," agreed Maria. "Mama despaired of getting them to work half so well when Charlotte married. Charlotte was never cross with them, the way Mama so often is, although they must be quite vexing if Mama's temper is any indication."

"Indeed, Lady Lucas has been quite irritable lately," Sir William nodded.

"Ah yes, of course. To be sure!" Mr. Collins rejoined, looking decidedly uncomfortable at the turn of conversation.

"We had just been saying that perhaps it was some duties attending to parishioners that was keeping Charlotte from greeting us today. I should imagine such things would keep her quite busy," Elizabeth tried again.

"The members of my parish have quite a few troubles. Not, of course, any that reflect poorly on the bounty of Lady Catherine!" Mr. Collins hastened to assure them. "Her generosity is quite renowned, I assure you. No, no, the common folk roundabout suffer from ills of their own devising, and it is indeed a Herculean task to keep them on the right path. I feel humbled and honoured each day that Lady Catherine esteemed me to be worthy of such responsibility. It would undoubtedly bow the head of a lesser man."

"Or the head of a man not blessed with such an admirable wife to share the burdens?" suggested Elizabeth brightly and pointedly. Mr. Collins tugged his collar and looked more uncomfortable than ever.

"Quite so! Lady Catherine was saying only Tuesday evening – I am called to Rosings at least twice a week, they are that fond of my company and always send the carriage for me. It is only Lady Catherine and her daughter, Miss de Bourgh, who is an exceedingly charming young lady although, sadly, she is rather sickly. It must be a terrible affliction to Lady Catherine, who has always been in excellent health, for her only child to be unable to learn the accomplishments of other young ladies, or be presented at court. Miss de Bourgh would certainly outshine the other young ladies presented if her indifferent health permitted it! But these happenings are certainly of Divine providence, as I have comforted Lady Catherine many times by saying."

"Certainly that's so," agreed Sir William, as Mr. Collins seemed to have exhausted this topic.

"Mr. Collins, is Charlotte well?" Elizabeth took advantage of the lull in Mr. Collins's praises of his benefactress to press the point that he seemed to be determined to avoid.

"Oh! And Mrs. Jenkinson lives at Rosings, too, I quite forgot to mention her. She is an elderly woman and something of a companion for Miss de Bourgh," Mr. Collins seemed not to hear Elizabeth and took up this new train of thought enthusiastically. "Mrs. Jenkinson is very proper and attentive, but not the most invigorating company. I flatter myself that I am called to Rosings so often because I can offer some interest to the ladies. I have no end of instructive and wholesome lessons for young ladies, as you may well recall, dear cousin, from my previous stays at Longbourn. Although Miss de Bourgh is not well enough for many conventional activities – the pianoforte, for example, would be far too taxing, and any amount of reading strains her eyes terribly- she can of course still benefit from spiritual instruction and guidance. Fortunately, I am well qualified to be of service in this area, which is entertaining as well as uplifting. In this way I have made myself quite invaluable at Rosings. And of course I am able to be of help in many other ways, in fact-"

"Mr. Collins! Where is Charlotte?" Elizabeth interrupted him from running on any more, determined to receive a clear answer once and for all. Mr. Collins visibly started and seemed to become more pale and clammy than usual.

"Cousin, I must say that such bold manners are hardly becoming to a young lady, even one so outwardly beautiful as yourself, if I may be permitted to say so."

"And if I may be permitted to say, Mr. Collins, it is rather poor manners to keep guests from their hostess, who they have made a journey specifically to see. Where is Charlotte and what is keeping her? Is she well?" Elizabeth was undaunted, and she could see how nervous her questions were making Mr. Collins. Sweat was beading on his brow as he looked helplessly to Sir William and Maria for rescue.

"Charlotte isn't ill, is she?" Maria demanded anxiously, finally realizing how odd the situation was.

"Ill? Oh no, I don't believe she is ill. I'm sure she is in excellent health, although…" he trailed off, looking decidedly ill himself.

"You don't believe she is ill? Don't you know?" Elizabeth leaned forward in her chair, pouncing on his words.

"Well the fact of the matter is that no, I do not know for certain if Mrs. Collins is ill or well," he snapped pettishly. "I would give a great deal to know the answer to the question myself! Mrs. Collins has not done me the courtesy of responding to any of my notes or letters in the months since she left to attend to Lady Lucas during her recovery from the carriage accident."

"Carriage accident? What's all this about? My wife hasn't been in a carriage accident!" mumbled Sir William, confusion furrowing his brow.

"Certainly she has! The day after our wedding, Friday the 10th of January, Mrs. Collins received an express letter at The Partridge at Bromley, stating that Lady Lucas had been in a carriage accident and required the assistance of her eldest daughter immediately. Out of natural family concern and feeling, I sent my bride straight back to Hertfordshire while I returned to Hunsford to resume my duties. I confess I have been disappointed to receive no word from my bride during this time. I had thought that your note apprising me of your visit, Sir William, meant you would be accompanying Mrs. Collins herself from Lucas Lodge. It is, after all, high time she returned to her husband."

"But this doesn't make sense at all," Sir William rose from his seat in agitation. "I tell you Lady Lucas has been in no accident of any kind and was in excellent health. None of us sent an express letter of any sort, for that matter. And none of us received your letters."

"Mama is quite well, Mr. Collins," confirmed Maria helpfully. "And none of us have seen Charlotte since the wedding."

"Well Mrs. Collins certainly did receive an express at the inn, and left within the hour. If she didn't return to Lucas Lodge as she planned, Heavens knows where she went." Mr. Collins leaned back in his chair with the air of one who washes his hands of the situation.

"So Charlotte has been missing for months, not responding to your letters, and you did not think it worth while to come to Hertfordshire to make sure she was alright?" Elizabeth demanded, feeling frustration and fear well up in her heart.

"I assumed she was too absorbed in caring for her mother to make time to answer my letters," Mr. Collins protested. "It cost me great expense in procuring The Partridge for our wedding night, to please Mrs. Collins, when we could have made the arduous 50 miles journey to Hunsford. I shall not spend a penny more on her!"

"I am shocked by your lack of urgency in this matter, Mr. Collins. If Charlotte received a false express telling her that her mother was hurt, someone must have sent it. And if she left immediately for Hertfordshire but never arrived, I fear that someone must have deliberately kept her from arriving. Which means she has been in terrible danger for months!" Elizabeth rose from her chair to pace before the fire, unable to sit still any longer. Sir William sat back down to comfort Maria, who had begun to cry loudly.

"Surely it is not all so severe as that," protested Mr. Collins weakly, his eyes shifting away from Elizabeth's gaze.

"Have you the express letter that Charlotte received? Perhaps it might give us some way of guessing who sent it," Elizabeth asked hopefully, determined to do something to discover the whereabouts of her friend.

"The...the letter?" Mr. Collins seemed to hesitate. Was he truly confused, wondered Elizabeth, or was he trying to think of the best answer. In spite of the warm fire and the bright sunlight pouring into the parlour, Elizabeth felt a chill creep over her. Mr. Collins's explanations sounded weak and false to her ears. Surely even he could not be so witless. But why would he lie? Could he have harmed her? "Mrs. Collins, ah, Mrs. Collins took the letter with her, I'm afraid."

"Did you recognize the handwriting on it, though?" Elizabeth demanded.

"Unfortunately I wasn't in the room when she received the letter. I didn't get a close look at it at all. She had the letter in her hand and simply informed me of its contents," Mr. Collins explained with what almost seemed like an air of triumph.

"Come now, Mr. Collins, surely it occurred to you to take some sort of action in all these intervening weeks. You have a responsibility to your wife as well as to your parish, I'm sure you know," Sir William roused himself, somewhat to Elizabeth's surprise. Sir William had never shown such spirit in all of her acquaintance with him. Mr. Collins looked indignant.

"I have of course consulted with Lady Catherine at length on this matter. I certainly have not been sitting here idly by this time. Mrs. Collins's absence has caused me great distress. This is far from the way I envisioned married life."

"What does Lady Catherine have to say on the matter?" asked Elizabeth, unable to keep some sarcasm out of her voice. Mr. Collins's adoration of Lady Catherine had once seemed laughable, but Elizabeth felt only disgust at the moment.

"She has judiciously advised me to wait patiently, reminding me that a new bride would naturally feel a greater sense of duty to an ailing mother than a healthy husband. I have borne the inconveniences of Mrs. Collins's absence just as Lady Catherine suggested, and tried not to count myself ill-used," Mr. Collins stated pompously.

"And Lady Catherine never thought it strange that you received no word from Charlotte this entire time?" wondered Elizabeth.

"We have had many matters to occupy our attention, Cousin Elizabeth," Mr. Collins informed her stiffly. "However, we have been invited to dine at Rosings this evening and we can consult with Lady Catherine at length regarding these distressing new developments."

"I think we had better consult with the magistrate at once!" protested Elizabeth indignantly.

"We shall wait and see what course of action Lady Catherine advises. In the meanwhile I suggest you all refresh yourselves for dinner. Lady Catherine will not think poorly of you for dressing simply, so do not be concerned on that account. Only wear your nicest things and give it no more thought," Mr. Collins swept grandly out of the room. Elizabeth could barely contain her fury. How could he imagine anyone would be concerned with finery when such a terrible thing had occurred? Charlotte could be in terrible danger, or even- but Elizabeth refused to think it.