The Challenge of Entail

by Jann Rowland

  Lady Catherine glared at them, a mutinous glint in her eyes. “I do not see that at all. It seems to me a man is cheating another for his own family’s gain and after his own failure to provide for them. Do you think Mr. Collins did not ensure I know every detail?”

  “From what I understand,” replied Darcy, “Mr. Collins was at Longbourn for less than two days complete. Is he of such experience and intelligence that the workings of an estate are an open book? He has never trained to manage a property and has not even had the benefit of being raised where he may have gained some insight through simple observation. Is his account to be trusted?”

  “What is the meaning of this inquisition?” asked Lady Catherine, looking at them through narrowed eyes. “What can it mean to you?”

  “I am asking you the same question, Lady Catherine. What is it to you whether Mr. Collins inherits an estate or remains at Hunsford for the rest of his life as your parson?”

  “What matters is I am attentive to all such injustices as that which is being perpetrated on Mr. Collins.” Lady Catherine glared at them each in turn, and for a moment Darcy thought she would once again challenge him on his own interest in the matter. In the end, she did not, saying: “How could I not assist when I heard his cousin’s betrayal?”

  “Then let me clarify matters for you, Lady Catherine,” said Darcy. “In fact, though it is unfortunate that Mr. Collins is now not in a position to inherit an estate, Mr. Bennet has acted as was his right, and nothing was done in contravention of the law. I am acquainted with the Bennets and know every detail of these transactions. Mr. Collins can win no appeal to the law—his suit would be dismissed in an instant, and he would be left a laughingstock, as would all those who support him.”

  “Are you suggesting I am not familiar with the law?” demanded Lady Catherine.

  “We believe you lack the facts,” said Fitzwilliam. “If you were aware of the great disadvantage which must come of the imprudent decision to support Mr. Collins, you would judge different.”

  Lady Catherine paused and considered them, and Darcy held a smirk in check. There was no better way to induce Lady Catherine to desist than to insinuate harm to the family, for whatever else she was, Lady Catherine was proud of their position and reputation in society. When she did not speak to press her point, Darcy knew she had been persuaded. It was just as well, for Darcy had been prepared to pit himself against her, to support the Bennets against Lady Catherine and the fool of a parson. That, he knew, she would not have received well.

  “It may be I have been hasty in agreeing to support Mr. Collins,” confessed Lady Catherine. It sounded like it was being unwillingly drawn from her lips. “This Mr. Bennet has a strong case in the law?”

  “The strongest,” replied Darcy. “The papers for the common recovery of his property were submitted and executed by his solicitor to a judge. There is little Mr. Collins can do except make a fool of himself.”

  “What of this business of a daughter inheriting?”

  “Come now, Lady Catherine,” said Darcy, annoyed she would even bring up such an objection. “Was Anne not set up as your late husband’s heir? There is nothing in the law that prevents a woman from inheriting property—the only stipulation is the property becomes her husband’s when she marries.”

  Lady Catherine glared at him, suspicion radiating from her agate-hard eyes. “Can I assume you have no interest in this matter? I presume you understand to what I refer.”

  As it happened, Darcy well understood the thrust of her comment. “No, Lady Catherine, I have no interest in Miss Bennet, or at least in the manner you are suggesting.” It was true, even if Darcy omitted the interest he had in Miss Bennet’s sister. Lady Catherine did not need to know that.

  “Then I shall cease to support Mr. Collins,” said Lady Catherine.

  “That is for the best,” replied Darcy. “It is a mark of your intelligence you have seen the sense of our arguments.”

  Lady Catherine nodded tightly. “Now I have agreed to withdraw my support to Mr. Collins, perhaps you would be so kind as to explain what interest you have in this matter.”

  “The Bennet family are friends,” replied Darcy with a dismissive shrug. “I would not see them ill-used, nor would I wish our family to be pulled into his dispute under false pretenses. If Mr. Collins persists, it will not end well for him, and it would not reflect well upon you if you continued to support him.”

  Lady Catherine grunted, and while she desisted, she continued to regard him with open suspicion. “Yes, well, perhaps it is best you warned me. I shall have strong words with my parson—of that you may be assured.

  “Now, this business of leaving at once is nonsense,” said she, shifting the topic. “You must stay at least two weeks. Anne will be so happy to see you, as she always is. Let me have the housekeeper show you to your rooms, for Anne will arise before long.”

  “As I stated, Lady Catherine,” said Darcy, “I must return to town today, as I have business waiting for my attention.”

  “No business can be as important as obliging your family! Come, Darcy, I insist!”

  “You may insist all you like,” replied Darcy, rising to his feet, pulling Fitzwilliam along with him. “But we shall depart at once. I thank you for your time and commend you for making the right decision regarding Mr. Collins—I suggest you warn him against any future actions on the matter of the estate, for he shall not prevail.”

  Lady Catherine rose along with them, though by this time her expression was most unfriendly. The scathing look she directed at them suggested she knew something, and Darcy wondered what stories her stupid parson had been spreading about the Bennets.

  “Are you to return to Hertfordshire?” asked she, her bluntness more acute than usual.

  “Yes, though there are matters in town which require my attention before I do,” replied Darcy.

  “Then I shall bring Anne to London. It is high time you announce your engagement. Though it is not the height of the season, I believe it will still be a matter of much interest—we shall announce it before Christmas.”

  Darcy suppressed a weary sigh. It had been foolish, he supposed, to hope to escape Rosings without having this conversation. Then again, given his ardent attentions to Miss Elizabeth, he supposed now would be as good a time as any to have it. Darcy would not put it past her to journey to Hertfordshire to set him to rights or to abuse Miss Elizabeth into refusing his proposal.

  “There will be no need for you to go to London,” said Darcy. “I have already stated I will not be there long. Furthermore, though I have told you many times before, you have not heard me, so I will say it one last time: I will not marry Anne.”

  “Yes, you shall,” said Lady Catherine, her voice laced with steel. “It was the favorite wish of your mother and hers. It is your duty, and I shall see it done.”

  “Lady Catherine is a break between my house and yours what you wish?” asked Darcy. He could be every bit as blunt as she. “For let me state without disguise: if you push me on this subject, that is what will happen.”

  The glare with which she regarded him might have frozen a lesser man into a block of ice. “You would not dare.”

  “I most assuredly would.”

  The two combatants stood eye to eye, neither giving an inch. For Darcy’s part, he was entirely calm, for he knew there was little Lady Catherine could do to force him into acting as she wished. It was up to her to determine how this confrontation would end, for good or ill, and while she might think she could bend him to his will, she would soon know disappointment. In the end, she attempted conciliation.

  “Come, Darcy, you know this is what your mother wished. Let me show you to a room so you can consider the matter before making a hasty decision.”

  “My decision is not a hasty one,” replied Darcy. “It is the work of many years. I am not bound by so irrational a demand as yours in the most important choice of my life.”

  “You behave lik
e a spoiled child,” spat Lady Catherine. “Do you think I will recede? If you do, you know me less than I might have expected.”

  “And you know less of me if you believe I will give way, no matter how long you insist.”

  “And, thus, you have proved yourself a weak man, tempted by thoughts of pretty young gentlewoman on the hunt for a wealthy man. Do you think Mr. Collins has not informed me of his cousin’s family? It is obvious you have allowed your head to be turned toward one of the man’s daughters, for otherwise you would not be so hard-headed.”

  “On the contrary, Lady Catherine,” replied Darcy, “I made this decision long ago. I have not insisted you accept my determination because I knew what your response would be. I am no longer willing to listen to your diatribes on the subject, nor will I allow you to crow to all and sundry of my future as your son-in-law. If you cannot accept this, all connection between our families is dissolved until you are more reasonable.”

  Sketching the woman a perfunctory bow, Darcy turned and stalked from the room, eager to be away from Rosings as soon as possible. It was a surprise she did not follow him, haranguing him as he went, but Darcy was grateful for her forbearance, however it had been achieved. When he entered the carriage, it became apparent why, for Fitzwilliam had not followed him. His cousin came striding out of the house and entered the carriage soon after.

  “You have stirred up the hornets’ nest, Cousin,” said Fitzwilliam as he gave the driver the command to depart. “Had I not stopped her, I might have thought she would follow you and bury a dagger in your back.”

  Darcy arched an eyebrow at his cousin and said: “Et tu, Brutè?”

  Fitzwilliam laughed and shook his head. “Lady Catherine will not allow this to rest unchallenged.”

  “Then I shall have a word with your father. As for myself, I will not allow Lady Catherine into any property I own until she begins to behave in a rational manner.”

  “Then her banishment will be permanent,” replied Fitzwilliam. “I would not expect her to ever relent.”

  The mood Darcy was in, the need to lash out at someone or something was nigh overpowering. Thus, when the carriage attained the main road and swept past the parsonage, the sight of the rotund parson filled Darcy with a cold determination, and he gave the command to halt the vehicle. Then he stepped out and confronted the man, who was clearly astonished by his actions.

  “Mr. Collins, I presume?”

  It was not polite in any way, but Mr. Collins seemed to take no notice, for he bowed low and began to babble. “You must be Lady Catherine’s nephews. Never would I have imagined I would be so fortunate as to make your august acquaintances so soon, for it is my understanding you visit but once a year. Please allow me to take the opportunity to—”

  “A simple yes or no will suffice!” spat Darcy, silencing the stupid man’s ineffectual mutterings.

  But Mr. Collins had no way to respond, as he straightened and stared at Darcy, his mouth hanging open. Darcy glared at him, but it seemed to make no difference.

  “You had best say something, Cousin,” said Fitzwilliam, “for if you do not, I fear a bird will take up residence in his mouth.”

  Mr. Collins’s mouth snapped shut, and for the first time, he showed a little spirit in the glare with which he responded. Darcy was not about to allow him to speak.

  “I know who you are, so you need not reply. Heed me well, Mr. Collins, for I will not repeat myself. If you have any notion of suing Mr. Bennet for control of Longbourn, I suggest you drop it at once, for not only will you bankrupt yourself, but you will make yourself a laughingstock. And you should know that I will support the Bennets in their fight against you. My influence is not insignificant, sir, and you would do well to take note.”

  By this time the parson had recovered his wits—what there were of them—and he essayed to reply: “I have secured the support of Lady Catherine in my fight against the wrong done to me.”

  “You will find Lady Catherine is less eager to lend her assistance now and distracted by other matters.” Darcy stepped closer to the silly man, prompting him to cringe away, and hissed: “Stand down, Mr. Collins. I will ruin you if you persist.”

  Then Darcy turned on his heel and walked back to the coach with Fitzwilliam following behind. When the carriage departed, Darcy looked back to see the parson hurrying toward Rosings, no doubt to discover for himself the truth of Darcy’s words. A snort alerted him to Fitzwilliam’s dark amusement.

  “Do you not think Lady Catherine will support him if only to spite you?”

  “No,” was Darcy’s short reply. “This cradle betrothal Lady Catherine has concocted in her mind is of utmost importance, beside which Mr. Collins’s concerns are nothing more than an infant’s mewling. When I speak to your father, I shall ensure he knows to warn Lady Catherine away from such a disastrous course.”

  “A wise plan, Cousin. I would put nothing past the old bat, and you have made her angry enough to provoke her to anything.”

  Darcy did not reply. Instead, he glared out the window at the passing scenery. The visit with his aunt had been as bad as he had expected, and now it was past, he longed for the comfort of Miss Elizabeth’s smiles, her laughter, and above all, her sympathetic ear. He could not return to Hertfordshire soon enough.

  Chapter XXIII

  Though unfortunate, the return to Hertfordshire was to be delayed, at least until the following afternoon. When the cousins arrived in London, both were ready to seek their beds, though their hunger was such that a small meal taken in their rooms was necessary. The following morning, having recovered from the long journey the day before, Darcy and his cousin approached Lord Matlock.

  The earl was a good man, in Darcy’s opinion, who, though perhaps proud of his position in society, was nevertheless kind and genuine, one who did not look down on others. Tall and aristocratic in bearing, Lord Matlock was a man of more than sixty years, still hale and active, blessed with excellent health and a keen intellect. He was also little disposed to enduring his sister’s tantrums and determined to prevent her from staining the family name.

  “Darcy, Anthony,” said he when the cousins entered his study that morning. “I suppose I might have expected to see you some time or another, Darcy, given what my son has told me of your exploits in Hertfordshire.”

  “Exploits?” drawled Darcy, turning a hard eye on his cousin. It had as little effect on him as usual.

  “A poor term, perhaps,” said Fitzwilliam. “There are matters of interest to the family occurring in Hertfordshire, you must own.”

  “I had not thought my private actions were bandied about the entire family.”

  “Oh, do be reasonable, Darcy,” said Lord Matlock. “Anthony informs me of the general state of matters, and I make my own inferences from there. Even you must own that any attention you pay to a young woman must be a subject of interest for us all, given your usual practice of keeping them at arms’ length.”

  “Be that as it may,” said Darcy, deciding it was best to come to the point, “we have just come from Rosings last night and have some tidings of Lady Catherine of which you ought to be aware.”

  That caught Lord Matlock by surprise. “The last I heard of you, you were in Hertfordshire—it must have been a matter of some import to take you to Rosings. Please, let me know what my sister has done now.”

  And so, Darcy shared his knowledge with his uncle, informing him of the entire matter without holding back. When he was finished speaking, his uncle was shaking his head with disgust.

  “It is just like Catherine to stick her nose into matters like this with no thought of the consequences.” Lord Matlock paused and then eyed Darcy. “This neighborhood in which your friend has leased his estate must be backwater if they use entails to ensure the solvency of their estates.”

  Darcy shrugged and said: “It is not uncommon for small neighborhoods to be less versed in such matters.”

  “Strict settlements have been i
n use for many years.”

  “Yes, they have,” replied Darcy. “But the state of the neighborhood’s knowledge of present events are not the point. Mr. Bennet did nothing that was not done many times in the past. For Lady Catherine to support Mr. Collins in his mad quest to overturn it would lead to nothing more than infamy for her, for she would be ridiculed by society.”

  “As Lady Catherine rarely leaves Rosings,” added Fitzwilliam, “she would not bear the shame of it. We would.”

  “Have no fear,” said Lord Matlock. “I have no intention of allowing Catherine to have her way in this matter.” Lord Matlock paused in thought for several moments, before continuing slowly. “Though it may be best if I should visit Rosings to rein her in, this business of you rejecting Anne once and for all will almost certainly bring her to my doorstep soon enough anyway. Thus, I think I shall spare myself the inconvenience of going into Kent and wait for her.”

  Having said that, Lord Matlock again turned a discerning eye on Darcy. “This matter of you refusing to offer for Anne, however, is a change from your previous practice of avoiding the subject at all costs. Do you care to share the exact reason with me? I knew you were interested in a young lady of the country, but I did not know your interest was that far advanced. Perhaps my sister’s suspicions are correct for a change—God knows she must be right occasionally.”

  Fitzwilliam laughed, while Darcy could only shake his head. “A stopped clock is correct twice a day.”

  “Exactly,” said his uncle. “So? Will you share it with me?”

  “There is nothing to share at present.”

  “Oho! But there will be something in the near future?”

  “She is a lovely young lady,” said Fitzwilliam, unhelpfully in Darcy’s opinion.

  “I was expecting it, but I must own to some surprise.” When Darcy fixed him with a questioning glance, Lord Matlock shrugged. “As I said before, you avoid young debutantes like they carry the plague. As a young man in your position, you could have the pick of any young lady in society, perhaps even as high as the daughter of a duke, if you set your mind to it. To turn your nose up to all these and instead choose a young woman of the country, no matter how capable or suitable she may be, will set tongues wagging and earn you enmity in some quarters.”