By Consequence of Marriage (A Pride & Prejudice Novel)

by Elizabeth Ann West

  "No madame, this is my study and that is my chair. All persons with business to discuss with the master of Carver House, Pemberley and Darcy House sit on the other side of that desk. I am happy to ask a footman to make an adjustment."

  "You wouldn't dare!"

  Darcy's other aunt and uncle entered the study to see the test of wills already in progress. Ready and reeling for a fight, Darcy placed both hands on the corners of his father's desk and leaned forward to be nose to nose with his aunt. "After the day I have had, you do not wish to test me. This is my home you have entered and you will abide by my rules."

  "Catty! Give the boy the chair! You won't win any battles setting him against you." The Earl of Matlock escorted his wife to the sofa, but remained standing until his sister would vacate the seat.

  "Well, I never have experienced such rudeness to one's elders. You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Fitzwilliam. If you were not so very tall, I'd bend you over this knee in an instant." Lady Catherine shuffled out of the chair and walked around the desk, but paused to motion with her finger for her brother the Earl to move Richard's favorite armchair by the fireplace closer to the desk. The Earl complied, and Darcy took his regular seat.

  As Darcy motioned for the footman to leave them and close the door, he clasped his hands in front of him and placed them on the desk in the signal that this interview was no different than any of the other dozen or so business meetings he held in a week's time.

  "There are many other demands on my schedule today. I would appreciate if you would get straight to the point for this assault on Darcy House."

  "Assault? Nephew, you do exaggerate. Why cannot uncles and aunts come to dine with their relatives?" Lady Matlock attempted to improve the atmosphere of the room.

  "I cannot recall any such occasion in which the three of you deigned to visit my home all at once since my father died. So I ask again, what is the matter at hand?"

  "The matter at hand is your willful defiance and procrastination on marrying my daughter!" Lady Catherine shouted, as the Earl and Countess both cringed. Leave it to Catherine de Bourgh to be the bull entering a china shop.

  "My sentiments on that matter are particularly clear, Lady Catherine. I hold no designs to marry my cousin and no amount of bullying shall change my position." The Earl cleared his throat, making Darcy adjust his attentions. "Oh not you too, Uncle. You and I both know she is unsuitable. Her illnesses are much too severe for anyone to expect her to carry an heir."

  "There is history, Darcy. History that you were never made aware of and in light of Georgiana's new alliance, we beseech you to consider this new information before declining your cousin's hand. That's all we ask son."

  Darcy gazed earnestly at his uncle, searching for some sign of trickery, but there was genuine shame written in the lines of his frown. "I shall listen. But I tell you now, I cannot fathom a scenario that would encourage me to take her hand in marriage." Darcy held up his hands as a gesture of exasperation and leaned back in his chair as his aunt and uncle began to relate the history of a child who grew up to be George Wickham.

  Darcy listened in utter disbelief. All this time that they grew up as lads, Wickham was actually his cousin by his Uncle Lewis with a mistress! Now it all made sense. He never understood why his father would pay to school a lowly steward's son; it was not unheard of to pay for lessons in a trade or vocation, but not to send him to the schools of the upper elite! Darcy's mind raced as memories flashed with a new perspective. The potential ramifications and logical conclusion of this matter came to him before his uncle had to say the words.

  "So you see, with Anne battling pneumonia as we speak, if she dies without marrying, that man out there may lay a claim to Rosings."

  "The bastard child of that wench will never inherit that estate while I still live and breathe!" Lady Catherine exclaimed.

  Darcy placed his two index fingers and thumbs in a church and steeple configuration and held them to his mouth as he thought through the multitude of consequences of this decision. His family was asking him to perform the most egregious mercenary act of marrying a dying woman, merely to deny a bastard child potentially his rightful inheritance.

  On the surface, it was a question of morality that Darcy would instantly disdain, but this was Wickham, a man who was very possibly the most evil, vicious, charlatan of his acquaintance. Why the scores of women he ruined and the families Darcy had paid over the years likely amounted to years of earnings from the income of an estate such as Rosings. To permit that grand property to fall into his hands would be a great tragedy, not only for the family, but for the hundreds of lives that depended on the prosperity of the estate for their livelihood. It would likely take no less than five years for George Wickham to destroy the lives of so many, and Darcy would not allow such willful destruction.

  "I agree." Darcy released a breath, completely indifferent to his decision.

  Lady Catherine stood from her chair. "Good, now we can start to plan a double wedding for next week –"

  Darcy held up his hand to interrupt his aunt. "I agree to marry Anne, but this is not a decision I wish to rush. I require this action wait until my normal Easter visit when I may ask Anne for her opinion on the matter. This decision affects her, does it not?

  "It most certainly does not! She will marry whom I decide. Besides, you'll never be married in the true sense of the word. I do not expect you to spend any significant amount of time at Rosings, Fitzwilliam." Lady Catherine narrowed her eyes, drawing a line in the sand. Clearly she intended to remain queen and mistress of her kingdom.

  "Perhaps you ought to reconsider your position, Aunt Catherine. I demand my properties remain profitable, even when cutting the fat from bloated budgets and useless additions. "

  Lady Catherine's mouth moved up and down with fearsome anger flashing in her eyes. Before she readied her counterattack, the Earl stepped in.

  "Let's resolve we have agreed on the main issue at hand. The particulars of carrying out our decision will be decided at a later date. We will need to work together to protect Georgiana and Darcy will make his annual visit to Kent for Easter with the expectation that he make Anne his wife." The Earl glanced between his sister and nephew offering both an encouraging nod.

  "I agree, Uncle, so long as my aunt realizes the ramifications of setting me as owner of Rosings should dear Anne die."

  Lady Catherine's face began to redden as she held her breath. Her brother gently directed her to the door, calling to Darcy it was past time they return to Matlock House and he hoped to see his nephew and niece soon for another family dinner.

  With his relatives gone, Darcy walked over to his sideboard with plans to pour himself a drink. Reliving his decision as he lifted the decanter with only half of his favorite amber liquid filling the vessel, Darcy shrugged and placed the glass down. He carried the decanter back to his desk, taking a swig on the way. As he began his journey into drunken oblivion, he chastised himself to never again question the Lord's plan to ruin forever the life of Fitzwilliam Darcy.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  The unceremonious deposit of William Collins in front of number twenty-seven Gracechurch Street by a carriage much too refined for a post-chaise spoiled the pretty party of the three Bennet sisters with their aunt and uncle. The Gardiner family took in their distant cousin, all aside from Elizabeth curious as to the circumstances surrounding his abbreviated Kent visit. Unwilling to betray his patroness, the pastor explained away concerns with a romantic tale.

  "I'm afraid I am fallen victim to, as the poets say, a most violent affliction. No sooner had I arrived in Kent and attended my business affairs but Lady Catherine announced she was returning to London. I found myself anxious to return to the side of my beloved cousin Elizabeth."

  This explanation sated Jane Bennet and Mr. Edward Gardiner, devastated Mary Bennet, and raised the suspicions of Mrs. Gardiner. It wasn't the words the pastor had to say, but more the flat and disinterested tone of his delivery that rankled
her nerves.

  "Mr. Collins, what a handsome compliment to pay our Lizzie." The encouragement of Mrs. Gardiner spurred Elizabeth into pulling a gruesome face at her aunt, which only elicited a wink from the older woman.

  "I find I am ever in the happy position to pay ladies compliments. A kind word or phrase raises the spirit in a way few other affections may accomplish. In fact, I am myself a diligent student of the handsomest of compliments for the exalted ladies of my acquaintance." Mr. Collins clasped his hands behind his back and rocked on his heels.

  Elizabeth Bennet failed to resist such a keen opportunity to poke fun and ridicule. "Would you say then, sir, your compliments are the fruit of such practice or are they only the spontaneous thoughts and feelings you find yourself in the throes of when in the presence of such ladies?" Elizabeth tried to conceal her mirth but only managed a half smile awaiting his pompous and ridiculous response.

  "I have, on occasion, taken time to write down the prettiest words and phrases so I am not victim to my faulty memory, but even in the situation where I deliver such compliments, I do take ever such care to give them an air of unpracticed recitation."

  Elizabeth opened her mouth to retort, but her aunt's nod made her hold her tongue. She wanted nothing more than to inform the windbag his compliments were no sooner unpracticed than his manners would be considered practiced! The anger and meanness burned her chest, how violently she disliked her cousin! Mary took Elizabeth's silence as an opportunity to fret over Mr. Collins' wellbeing and inquire as to his plans for lodgings while in London.

  Removing a handkerchief that appeared quite soiled from his pocket, Mr. Collins elicited an unappealing sound as he cleared his nose and sinuses. "I do believe I will inquire about a room for the two days we are to remain in London. The cost of such is an extravagance for most men of my station, but thanks to the economy of traveling with the generous Lady Catherine de Bourgh, I suppose I do possess those funds to spare . . ."

  "Oh Mr. Collins, you should not rent a room! Why, you are a part of our family. Perhaps I might share a room with Lizzie and Jane, Aunt? Mr. Collins may take my room," Mary sounded quite hopeful for such an arrangement, even though it would mean she would need to sleep on a crude mattress on the floor.

  "There's no need for you to run off to the nearest inn, Mr. Collins." Mrs. Gardiner scarcely gave him a warm invitation into her home.

  Mary volunteered to move her belongings from her current room into the larger suite with Lizzie and Jane right away. Mrs. Gardiner left the room for a moment to instruct a servant to move a spare mattress to the larger suite for Mary. All three girls would be cramped, but only for two nights of their weeklong visit.

  Not wishing to remain in the parlor with Mr. Collins and Jane, Elizabeth suggested a walk in a small familiar park in the neighborhood.

  "It is colder today than yesterday, Lizzie. I'm not certain I'm in possession of your vigor for a second walk today." Jane Bennet offered her regrets to her sister.

  "I promise we shall return before Mr. Bingley arrives for dinner." Elizabeth tried to persuade her sister with a concession.

  "Truly that is not my concern . . ." Jane glanced down as she affirmed her position. "Yesterday my hands were chilled to the bone. I am so very sorry, but with the wedding next week, I don't want to risk catching cold."

  "No, it is I who am sorry. I should not expect so much from you during your wedding week. What you say is wise, but as there is no wedding with myself as the bride, I shall ask Uncle if I may take a maid with me." Elizabeth smiled at her sister to show there were no hard feelings. "I wish to keep my foot nimble and strong for the ball."

  Mr. Collins cleared his throat, attracting the attention of both ladies. "I'm afraid to say I believe you are making an error, Cousin Elizabeth, in seeking a second stroll in this wretched weather. I'm sure your Uncle will support me on this matter. If Cousin Jane feels it is a risk to her health, it must be a risk to yours as well."

  Elizabeth rolled her eyes, and glanced to her Uncle Gardiner with her usual smile. "Mr. Collins, I do appreciate your attention but as our acquaintance is little more than a few weeks, I wager you'll find Uncle Edward will not think a second walk a hindrance to my stamina."

  Mr. Gardiner frowned as he studied the faces of the young people remaining in the room. Ordinarily, he would side with Elizabeth without question, but Jane did raise a valid point concerning the family hosting a rather large social event the coming week. Mulling the needs of Elizabeth to take a second walk against the shrill complaints and abuse he would undoubtedly receive from his sister Fanny Bennet should either of the girls fall ill, Edward Gardiner made his decision.

  "Lizzie, I must side with Mr. Collins and Jane. Your mother will heap abuse upon me if any of her girls are ill next week for the wedding. I won't go so far as to prohibit all walks, but I do think it wise you limit yourself to one per day."

  The hideous, smug visage of Mr. Collins inflamed Elizabeth. She was able only to control her anger by fantasizing of rushing over to him and scratching out his eyes! Why was her family against her?

  Inhaling three measured breaths through her nose, Elizabeth spoke through gritted teeth. "I believe I will go upstairs and assist Mary with the room arrangements." Elizabeth made a minor curtsy and bowed her head, quitting the room before any might object or dismiss her. She struggled to walk quietly up the stairs and resolved to avoid the parlor until she was required. If only she might take dinner upstairs!

  When Elizabeth reached the room, she spied Mary glowing with perspiration as she tried to move her effects alone.

  "Here, let me help." Elizabeth offered.

  Mary blew out a labored breath and together the two girls lifted the trunk, tiptoeing it into the already packed room now expected to sleep all three girls. "Did you place everything in here?"

  Mary nodded. "Yes, and now I need to unpack it all."

  Elizabeth held up her hand. "Why don't you allow me? I need to move a few of my things in the closet to make room for your dresses regardless."

  "Truly? You do not mind? I thought you would not desire my move in with you and Jane." Mary said quietly.

  Elizabeth laughed and hugged her sister, her earlier anger no longer stewing, but not forgotten either. "Mary, if you want to sleep with Jane I could just as easily take the smaller room. I am simply used to her snoring since we share a room at home."

  Mary gasped. "She snores?"

  Elizabeth nodded vigorously. "Loudly." The two girls shared a giggle until commotion downstairs alerted them another visitor had arrived. "Poor Jane, Mr. Bingley has arrived early. Go, go, I'll arrange the room and you can allow Jane to give her attentions to Mr. Bingley."

  "You wish for me to talk to Mr. Collins?" Mary's voice did not hold her normal sermonizing tone, for once she sounded like the young woman she was.

  "Of course, you share so much more in common with him than I." Elizabeth hummed as she stared at the closet, wondering how she was going to fit their things when many of their new dresses were to arrive tomorrow. She hid her smile and continued her work as Mary started to leave, then doubled back, dug in her trunk for her trusty volume of good old Fordyce, and then hurried out again. With a fervent prayer, Elizabeth wished more than anything that her cousin William Collins would recognize the perfect wife for him if she placed Mary in his way.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  On the last night before losing Georgiana Darcy forevermore to a new woman, Mrs. George Wickham, her older brother Darcy caught up on the last of the correspondence which accumulated while he searched the whole of England for her. The social event invitations still lay in a pile on the very edge of his desk, but this was not a new development as a result of Georgiana's running away but was a normal avoidance for Darcy, soon he would cast them into the fireplace.

  Although his shoulders ached, he reminded himself he should rest for the following day would likely require a majority of his strength and fortitude to navigate. He had just one last letter for hi
s steward at Pemberley discussing the spring crop rotations. As he worked furiously to finish, the door to his study burst open with a complete lack of ceremony.

  His cousin, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam stormed in wearing his full regimentals, his medals and regalia clinking as they swayed with each of his steps.

  "A man takes one week to answer the call of his Major General. One week to return to training and preparing the young lads who will ship over to the Continent to give their lives for King and country." Richard stopped in the middle of the room, posting nearly at attention. "One week, and I return to find not only is my bachelor cousin to marry, hear me out, he's to marry the one woman he refused to marry for over a decade! Explain yourself, sir."

  Darcy dipped his quill pen into the inkwell and continued to scribble on his parchment, ignoring Richard's tirade. As he exaggerated the final punctuation mark, Darcy began to speak, though his eyes raced over the letter in front of him. "Good evening to you, too, Richard."

  "Are you mad?"

  Darcy affixed his name, sprinkled sand on the letter and shook it free, and picked up the red wax to hold it over the lone candle sitting on his desk. As he held the wax over the flame, it began to melt and he turned it slowly to keep it from dripping before addressing his cousin. "There is a fallacy to your question." Darcy stamped the wax on his letter allowing it to cool for a moment before impressing his signet ring. "Should I answer I am not mad, you will take my actions as proof I am mad and cannot recognize it." He picked up the letter and triumphantly placed it atop the stack of correspondence to send out the following day. "Should I say I am mad, how can you trust the ramblings of a madman?"

  Richard relaxed his posture and performed the famous Fitzwilliam rake of his fingers through his hair. Disheveling his appearance a great deal, Richard looked at his cousin Darcy with distress.

  "I acknowledge you have not lost your faculties, sir. But Anne? Good God, what did they do to you? Should I inspect your person for marks of torture?"