by Jennifer Joy
“Darcy, let me be the first to congratulate you,” his cousin, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam, started before sensing the tension in the room.
As all three faces turned to glare at Richard, he cut himself short. “I apologize. I fear I have spoken too soon.” He shuffled his feet and looked quizzically at Darcy.
Getting no immediate answers, he stood next to Darcy as they both watched their Aunt Catherine turn toward Anne.
Aunt Catherine’s presence filled the room and her voice echoed off the walls. “What is the meaning of this?”
Darcy had expected Anne to retreat as he had seen her do so many times, but she stood firmly in place and spoke clearly. “I released Darcy from our engagement, Mother.”
“You foolish child. Would you cast off a promise made and sealed with the death of my sister as if it were of little consequence?”
Darcy winced at the mention of his mother, but Anne stood fast.
Taking a deep breath, she said, “I honor the memory of my Aunt Anne and I do not take your promises lightly either, Mother. However, this concerns my future, and I feel that only I should choose what makes me happy. Please, Mother, let me make this one choice.”
“Your impertinence is not appreciated, Anne. You have no experience in life and lack the wisdom to make such decisions,” Aunt Catherine said condescendingly.
“Perhaps I lack wisdom because I have never been given a chance to live.” Anne’s eyes teared up, but her decisiveness never wavered.
“You have become quite stubborn and dramatic of late, Anne, and I am going to get to the bottom of it. This disrespect for your superiors is unacceptable. This will not do.” Dropping her voice to a hiss, she said, “Do not forget that I can change my will on a whim. If you refuse to marry Darcy, I will disinherit you. I can cast you off without a penny to your name.” Aunt Catherine enunciated each syllable. So intent was her focus on Anne, she did not even blink.
Darcy stood in disbelief. Aunt Catherine was famous for her strict ways, but he had not believed her capable of expressing such cruelty to her own daughter.
“You are in no position to do so, Mother, and you know it.” Anne pulled out a letter. It was aged yellow. When Aunt Catherine moved to grab it, Anne quickly pulled it out of her reach.
Aunt Catherine sucked in air so sharply, Darcy could hear it. His curiosity peaked at the yellowed letter, but this was a private discussion. He and Richard should take their leave.
Darcy looked at the door. It stood wide open as if it were aghast at the scene between the ladies of the house.
Aunt Catherine must have remembered the presence of her two nephews. She spun on her heels. “You two. Out! Out, now!” she demanded as she ushered them out of the room, the door banging behind them.
Darcy and Richard stood in silence out in the hallway. Richard, with a sense of bewilderment, said, “I do not know what Anne is about, but it had a strong effect on Aunt Catherine.”
Darcy had noticed the veins on Aunt Catherine’s forehead bulging, and he imagined he could have seen her pulse.
“Anne said nothing to me about the letter. I only hope it placates Aunt Catherine somewhat, though I doubt it,” said Darcy.
“That is very generous of you, considering she rejected your proposal.”
Leave it to Richard to cut to the chase of an issue. Darcy grimaced at Richard’s blunt words.
“It is not generosity. Anne’s refusal is inconvenient and will cause me no end of suffering when I reach Pemberley with the news. However, I would face the disapproval of my father ten times over before facing the wrath of Aunt Catherine.”
“Like poking a tiger with a stick. I understand, Darcy. You know very well that I am not one to avoid a confrontation, but I would think twice before crossing swords with Aunt Catherine.”
Richard pulled at his sideburns, a grave expression on his face.
They were stepping into the entryway when Richard asked the same question Darcy was asking himself. “What do you think Anne is up to? I cannot imagine what that letter could contain to put Aunt Catherine on edge.” He paused thoughtfully, pinching his chin before continuing, “Maybe we have been underestimating Anne all these years. To think she has the nerve to use the contents of a letter against her overbearing mother…” The awe in his cousin’s tone was unmistakable.
Darcy, too, was curious but he had other problems to contemplate. Craving some fresh air, he said, “I need out of Rosings. Are you staying?
“I would like to go as far as London with you. It would save me time and is much more comfortable than the post coach,” answered Richard.
“Excellent. I shall tell my coachman that we are to leave immediately. I think a note will suffice for Aunt Catherine, under the circumstances.”
“She will be grateful to have us gone. Truth be told, I am ready to be gone as well. There is far too much drama here for my taste. I get enough of that at the barracks.”
Darcy rolled his eyes at his cousin as they strode to the stables. Richard liked a good intrigue just as much as the next person and he could be counted on to know the juiciest bits of gossip about town.
“On second thought, maybe we should both take the post coach home,” Richard said, an unwelcome sight greeting them in the stable.
Darcy remained silent, scanning his surroundings, too disappointed to speak. Pieces of his carriage were strewn about on every spare surface. Mr. Bowers, the coachman, approached them at the doors with a polishing rag and a spring in his arthritic hands.
“Good morning, Mr. Darcy. Care to see how the stagecoach is coming along? It will be in fine condition in a couple days. The apprentice lad is learning the workings of a coach and will be a better driver for it.” His face shone, and he stuck out his chest in pride over his hard work, though Darcy noticed he still would not address his apprentice by his surname.
Darcy wanted to kick the bale of hay in front of him. Instead, he said between gritted teeth, “Mr. Green will lighten your workload, Mr. Bowers, and I trust you will teach him well. You have been hard at work, I see. Whose fine idea was this to dismantle the carriage?”
“Why, it was your father who suggested it, sir.” With a wink, Mr. Bowers added in a conspiratorial tone, “I think he did not want you to return too quickly to Pemberley, if you know what I mean, sir.”
His father. How thoughtful of him, he thought as he clenched his jaw. Why he would bother to delay Darcy’s stay in Rosings when he disapproved of Anne as a wife was a mystery he would have to wait to solve on his return to Pemberley. Darcy had given up trying to understand the workings of his father’s mind ages ago.
Darcy heard a snort come from Richard’s direction. Darcy glared at him, and Richard clapped his hand over his mouth to contain his merriment.
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