The Darcy Marriage Series

by Zoë Burton

  “Indeed, I have. I will gladly put my skills to work.” Richard bowed, first to his aunt and then to his father, before strolling out of the room and up to his chambers. There was nothing he could do as of yet; he may as well relax for a while.

  Within an hour, Mr. Mortimer, Lady Catherine’s physician, had arrived at Rosings. After consulting with the mistress of the house and her family, he asked to see Anne for himself. He returned after a half hour.

  “How is she?” Lady Catherine was her usual imperious self.

  “She was disoriented; in truth, she was barely awake. It seems that her energy was decimated by her outburst. I expect she will sleep well into tomorrow, even without the tincture I gave her. I have left some powders with her maid; she should have a dose in the morning and in the evening. If that does not keep her calm, the dosage can be increased.”

  Lady Catherine nodded her understanding, relieved that Anne would be so easily kept quiet.

  Shortly after, the doctor left. He had promised to send a list of ladies he had heard of who specialized in being companions to recalcitrant young women.

  Within a week, a new companion had been found for Anne, Mrs. Jenkinson had retired to a quaint little cottage nearby, and the Matlock contingent had returned to London.

  As for the lady herself, Anne spent that week in a daze. Though given laudanum at first, she was thereafter given an herbal sedative that was less likely to lead to dependence and more likely to lend itself to alertness. Though she was still quiet and relaxed with this new concoction, she was not prone to sleeping her days away. To the relief of the entire household, Anne was unable to stir up enough passion to be affronted at anything; instead, when denied her wishes, she merely blinked and acquiesced.

  ~~~***~~~

  Meanwhile, at Netherfield Park

  While the return of his family members to Rosings caused the thought of danger to fade in some minds, Darcy remained vigilant. He could not explain, even to himself, why he remained uneasy. The logical part of his mind scoffed at the idea that his cousin would have actually instigated some action to divide him from his wife. His imagination, however, created a myriad of methods and villains willing and able to do just that. To soothe his restlessness and anxiety, he threw himself into sport with Bingley, and the work of running his estates, albeit from a distance, when Bingley was occupied with other matters.

  Darcy’s steward was in the habit of forwarding all correspondence to the master, no matter where he was. Darcy was far from an absent landlord. Instead, he was actively involved in the making of decisions, including those involved in the running of the mine he inherited upon his father’s death. While many of his station in life scoffed at the thought of being involved in trade in any manner, Darcy was astute enough to see that life as his circle knew it was going to change, and he was young enough to be willing to try new things. As a result of his diligence, he had increased the Darcy wealth substantially in his years as master.

  These efforts at distraction, while keeping him occupied much of each day, did nothing to lessen his vigilance. Thus, he was aware when visitors descended upon Netherfield late one grey morning.

  First to arrive was Mr. Collins. Having learned that his patroness had, indeed, been to the neighborhood and then left a couple days later, he knew he needed to determine the best method of putting into action his plan to separate his cousin from Miss de Bourgh’s. Given the rift between Mrs. Bennet and her second daughter, he could discover nothing at Longbourn. He would have to visit Mr. Bingley.

  Arriving forthwith at Bingley’s estate, Mr. Collins was shown into the parlor, where Elizabeth was sitting with her needlework. She stood as he entered, and curtseyed as she greeted him. Collins, realizing that she was alone, was almost giddy with elation. Obviously, Lady Catherine had not separated Elizabeth from Mr. Darcy, since she was still here. He ought to be able to overcome her and remove her from the house with little trouble. Then, he could spirit her away to Hunsford for a few weeks for his personal enjoyment before he put her on a ship. He was undecided as yet where he would send her; there was plenty of time for that.

  He advanced upon her, his happiness at such an easy conquest showing on his face.

  As her cousin advanced toward her, Elizabeth was unnerved by the smile he wore. She knew from previous experience with him that he was not a sensible man. Indeed, he appeared quite ridiculous the first time they met. The look he had now, however, was more of a cunning one. Elizabeth did not understand why he would call on her alone, and her relief was immense when her father and sisters were announced. She stepped past Mr. Collins to greet them as they entered the room behind the footman.

  “Papa! I am so happy you could come today. And dear Jane,” Elizabeth hugged her father, then her sisters. “Mary, Kitty, Lydia…thank you for coming. Please, sit with me. I shall ring for tea.”

  Thwarted by the unexpected arrival of the rest of Elizabeth’s family, minus her mother, Collins knew he had to retreat and find a different opportunity to spirit her away. He sat, determined to stay until he could get her alone.

  The Bennets had not been sitting more than a quarter hour when another group of visitors was announced. This time, it was the Gouldings, who had been on their way to Longbourn but made a last-minute decision to visit Mrs. Darcy, instead.

  It was this diverse mix of people that Darcy found when he and Bingley joined his wife. That unease that had plagued him for the last day or so had increased dramatically, and he knew the only way he was going to be able to complete his correspondence was to assure himself of his wife’s safety.

  Twenty minutes later, as the Gouldings began to rise to leave, thunder crashed outside, bringing with it a downpour of rain so heavy the gardens could not be seen from the window.

  “Oh!” The noise startled Elizabeth, who had not realized how dismal the sky had looked. She had been out for a walk early in the morning, and it had been overcast then, but once in the house, she had been so busy with other things that she had not taken time to look at the sky again. “It seems,” she continued, “that you must wait. You cannot go home in this deluge. You can join us for dinner; Mr. Bingley will not mind, will you, sir? I know how you love the society of others.”

  “I do not mind at all, Mrs. Darcy. Please, everyone, the weather is atrocious, and I am certain the roads will be impassible ere long. Do say you will dine with us, and stay the night.”

  The gathered guests all smiled, happily agreeing with the scheme. To dine with Mr. and Mrs. Darcy and their ten thousand pounds a year was something!

  Elizabeth rang the bell once more, this time directing the housekeeper to prepare rooms for the guests to refresh themselves, and to inform Cook that they were staying to dine.

  Chapter 9

  Four hours later, Penelope Goulding had been overrun with frustration. She had taken the presence of Mr. Collins in the house as a divine confirmation that he was to be her husband. To that end, she strove to be as near to him as possible at all times. She managed to maneuver herself into the seat beside him at dinner, and again after the men returned to the ladies. She attempted conversation with him on every topic she could think of, to the detriment of the guest on the other side of her, who happened to be Mary Bennet.

  Penelope and Mary, though a few years separated in age, had been friends of a sort for many years. Not bosom-friends, but rather the ones who ended up seated together at every event because no one else wished to partner with them. Their intellects were as different as night and day, Penelope not being very bright and Mary being highly intelligent and an earnest student. Their similarity in the social aspect of life was the glue that held their tenuous friendship together. All this being said, Mary often wondered how Penelope got along in life without an intelligent thought in her head; therefore, Mary was not at all offended that her erstwhile friend threw her over for her ridiculous cousin.

  Despite all of Penelope’s efforts, Mr. Collins barely acknowledged her. If she did not know better, she would
think it Mrs. Darcy who had all of the man’s attention.

  Finally, Penelope had had enough. She knew her parents might not be pleased, but if she could not gain Mr. Collins’ attention, she had no way to charm him. She must compromise him.

  Mr. Collins, his attention on his cousin Elizabeth and his plans to take her away, paid no attention to the young lady who sat beside him. She seemed to be everywhere; he had hardly moved without Miss Goulding appearing at his elbow. Under other circumstances, he would make it a point to flatter her and her mother delicately, but this night he had a more serious purpose.

  As all evenings do, this one eventually ended. Netherfield’s guests retired to their rooms, happily exhausted after their afternoon and evening of visiting and dining. Only two did not fall into their beds and immediately to sleep.

  ~~~***~~~

  Mr. Collins waited quietly in his assigned room for the rest of the house to settle down for the night. He had readied himself for bed with the help of Bingley’s valet, who, along with Darcy’s, was doing double-duty and helping the gentleman visitors. Once the servant was gone, Collins re-dressed. He needed to explore the house a bit, in part to find Elizabeth’s room and in part to find the back stairs so he could sneak her out of the house.

  Once silence fell, Mr. Collins took his candle and exited his room. He had been settled into the guest wing along with the Gouldings and Bennets. Creeping quietly down the hall, he turned when he reached the end, having noted earlier the direction in which his cousin and her husband went when the party retired.

  Relieved to find no footmen on duty in that part of the house, Collins first traversed the length of the hall. Finding the back staircase was no hardship; it was at the far end of the wing, a tapestry hanging across the entrance to hide it. That part of his plan complete, Mr. Collins retraced his steps; he now must find Elizabeth. Pausing in place for a moment, he pondered the best method. This was the family wing; in it were housed Mr. Bingley, as well as the Darcys. Assuming they were all suites of at least two rooms, Collins realized that he could be at this a while, for there was at least a score of doors on each side of the hall. Taking a deep but silent breath, he began with the room closest.

  Ten minutes later, Mr. Collins was left befuddled. Several of the doors had been locked to the hallway. That was no surprise; anyone assigned to that wing was likely sleeping. He did not wish to wake anyone but Elizabeth. His quest had made a strange and unexplainable discovery that left him uncertain where in the house Mrs. Darcy might be.

  Collins had discovered, after going through one of the doors, a lady’s dressing room. There had been a closet full of fine gowns, a table of lotions and hair pins, and a chair draped in a gown and a pair of fine silk stockings that he could not resist picking up and rubbing against his cheek. When he had Elizabeth alone and away from Netherfield, he would have to make certain she wore them for him; he put them in his pocket.

  Realizing the time he was wasting in pondering what must be his cousin’s apparel, Collins crept to the only other door in the room. To his surprise, the bed was empty. Not only that, the door to the next room was locked. Where can she be? For the life of him, he could not figure it out. After a few more minutes of scratching his head, he gave up and made his way back to his room. He would have to think of something else.

  ~~~***~~~

  While Mr. Collins was putting his plan into action, so was Penelope Goulding. She had allowed the maid assigned to her to help her prepare for bed, then claimed a desire to read by the fire for a while and dismissed the girl. Of course, Penelope was not a reader, and her declaration was a ruse. No one must know what she was about to do until the time was right.

  Once the girl had gone, Penelope peeked out the door into the hallway. She was perplexed to see her quarry slinking down the hall, candle in his hand. This unexpected wrinkle caused her to close the door and retreat again to her chair to think. She could not imagine why Mr. Collins was creeping about at night. Whatever his reason, it would be hours before he was asleep and therefore, her plans must be adjusted. She had hoped to have the deed done early, but that was obviously not going to happen. She didn’t even know when he would return to his room.

  Eventually, Penelope decided to sneak into his bedchamber and await him. She, therefore, slunk across the hall and into Mr. Collins’ room. Fortuitously, there was a chair tucked behind the open door between his bedroom and dressing room. It was there she sat, snuffing her candle and setting it on the floor. She tucked her feet up under her legs, covered them with her nightgown, and settled in to wait. Eventually, she drifted off to sleep.

  It was her prey stumbling back into his room that awakened her not long after. She remained still and quiet, listening intently as Mr. Collins changed his clothes and climbed into bed. When she heard his snores, Penelope made her move.

  Moving carefully, she crept across his room to stand beside the bed. Though it was completely dark in the room, she sensed, from the direction whence his heavy breaths emanated, that he was on the far side of the wide mattress. With caution, she lifted the sheet and coverlet and slid in, alert for any indication that Mr. Collins may have awakened. When he continued in his apparently peaceful slumber, Penelope began to relax and soon she, also, was slumbering.

  ~~~***~~~

  Sometime in the night, Penelope and Collins both rolled to the center of the bed. Cuddled together and dreaming, neither was aware that what they were doing was not part of their nocturnal fantasies but was, instead, the real thing. Any bit of consciousness that emerged was lost, first in the feelings of ecstasy and then in the slumber of their satiation.

  ~~~***~~~

  Upon retiring to his bed, Mr. Collins had once again rubbed Elizabeth’s stockings on his cheek before falling into a deep sleep. His night thereafter was filled with wonderful dreams of making his cousin his in every way. The realism of some of the dreams made his unconscious self marvel; he swore he could smell Elizabeth and taste her lips. Unwilling to give up such delightful visions, he fought alertness as long as he could.

  ~~~***~~~

  Penelope finally woke to the sound of feet moving in the hallway outside the bedroom door. At first disoriented at the feel of a heavy arm over her waist and a large presence at her back, she quickly recalled her plan, and exactly where it was that she lay. Smiling at the thought that her plan had succeeded, she snuggled back into her soon-to-be-husband and waited for the culmination of her scheme.

  Said culmination came not a quarter hour later. Mrs. Goulding, knowing her daughter’s habits well, had come to Penelope’s room to walk with her to the dining room so they could break their fast together. When Penelope did not answer her knock, Mrs. Goulding tried the knob. Her alarm at not finding her child within was great. She rushed into the hallway, at the same time that her husband quit their rooms.

  “Mr. Goulding,” the urgency in her voice bringing him to a stop, “Penelope is not in her room!”

  “What? Surely you jest. Where else could she be? Did you look in her dressing room?”

  “Yes, I did. She is not there. Where can she be?” Mrs. Goulding wrung her hands as she looked up and down the hall as though Penelope might be there.

  “Let me look for myself.” Mr. Goulding was one of those gentlemen who believed that all women were prone to hysterics and that if one was anxious, it was because she was not intelligent enough to examine all aspects of the issue at hand. Within a few minutes, however, he was forced to admit that Mrs. Goulding had reason for a fit of nerves.

  Pulling the door to the hallway shut to afford them some privacy, Mr. Goulding inquired of his spouse if she had any ideas. A few minutes of conversation brought to the recall of both what Penelope had said of Mr. Collins and her desire to compromise him.

  “Oh, no, she did not!” Mr. Goulding fairly roared. “I will, I will- I do not know what I will do, but I will do something! I knew your daughter was intractable, but this is simply beyond the pale!”

  “My daughter? She is your
daughter, as well. Do not go thinking you are going to blame me for this. You had every bit as much of a hand in raising her as I did.”

  “Hmph.” Mr. Goulding knew she was right but was not about to admit it. “Let us find Collins’ room before we jump to conclusions.”

  Stepping once more into the hall, Mr. Goulding hailed Mr. Bingley’s valet, who he knew was also assisting Mr. Collins. After a brief interview, he allowed the man to go on his way. Mrs. Goulding then joined him.

  “Collins’s chamber is here and the servant said he has not yet rung the bell; come, let us wake him up.” Goulding had gestured to a door on the other side of the hall and down a couple doors from Penelope’s.

  Not two minutes later, after a firm knock on the door to Mr. Collins’ room, a shriek emanated from within. His eyes growing wide, Goulding grasped the knob to fling open the door. When it would not turn, as it could not because it was locked, he stepped back, lifted his foot, and kicked the door in. The heavy wood gave far more easily than one would think, but Mr. Goulding was built similarly to Mr. Collins: he was tall and heavy looking, though on the elder man it was the solidity of muscle that gave him that appearance, for he was a gentleman who enjoyed physical activity.

  As the door flung into the room and slammed against the wall, Mr. Collins leaped out of his bed. His shock and alarm at having found Miss Goulding in his arms a few minutes ago were compounded by the fright of her red-faced father charging into his room.

  “What is this?” Mr. Goulding roared. “Penelope, what have you done? And you, sir! Why is my daughter in your bed?”

  As Mr. Collins began proclaiming his innocence, Penelope calmly explained that her father’s advice had not worked. Mr. Collins had not given her a second’s notice in the last week; she would not receive an offer of marriage from a gentleman who did not even see her. Therefore, she informed the group, she had taken matters into her own hands.