He chuckled and attempted to prepare a saucy retort, only to groan instead as her fingers nimbly worked the buttons that would free him to her tender ministrations.
“Fitzwilliam?”
Darcy’s eyes flew open as the hand on his shoulder increased its violence to awaken him.
“Brother, are you unwell?”
His glance darted to Georgiana’s concerned countenance. After an addled moment, he shook his head.
Having successfully gained his attention, Georgiana huffed into the chair that was the match of the one occupied by Darcy. “Do I understand correctly, Brother, that the young lady serving coffee is the Elizabeth Bennet of whom you have written?”
Darcy stared at his sister blankly for several moments, vastly disconcerted. She looked at him expectantly, and he was relieved to see that she was unaware of his condition as he had dozed. He straightened himself and met her gaze.
“Yes. Mrs. Collins is her particular friend, and Miss Bennet has been a guest at the vicarage for some weeks. She was due to leave Friday last, but our family’s events and her inclusion in Anne’s will have lengthened her stay.”
“But that is a lucky thing, is it not, that you will see more of her? She seems a pleasant sort of girl.”
“Lucky that our cousin Anne is dead? Perhaps ‘lucky’ is not the word you want, my dear.” Darcy gave his sister a rueful glance.
Georgiana pulled a face. “I know that look, and I do not mean to be irreverent, merely honest. In any case, I should very much like to meet her.”
Darcy smiled more to himself than to his sister. “I shall introduce you when the opportunity presents itself.”
Georgiana blew out a sigh and laughed lightly. “Oh, good. I am relieved.”
“Why should you be?”
“When I was out walking this morning, I met a very pretty, dark-haired lady running through the beech grove like a gazelle. Her exercise brought her colour up; she has a lovely complexion. My being there discomposed her at first, but she laughed in a most pleasing and friendly way, and I thought from your description that she must be Miss Bennet. You will be proud of me. I screwed my courage to the sticking place and introduced myself. We spoke only a few words, but I thought we got on frightfully well.”
Darcy’s eyes closed. Happy thought…Georgie has met Elizabeth without my leave and now quotes Lady Macbeth. He opened his eyes; Georgiana was still sitting forward in her chair, looking pleased.
“I hope you were not indiscreet,” Darcy sighed.
Georgiana appeared offended. “I most certainly was not indiscreet. At most, I might have seemed curious, but I assure you, she would never suspect that I hope at some future time, sooner rather than later if you please”—her words became pointed—“to commence calling her ‘sister.’ I should like it very well.”
Darcy rolled his eyes and groaned. Georgiana laughed at him and skipped from the room.
Charlotte cast a sidelong glance at her friend as they returned to the vicarage. They had covered more than half the distance without speaking a word. “You are quiet, Lizzy.”
“I am in a state of wonderment at Mr. Darcy.”
“I saw that he spoke to you and introduced his uncle. I hope you are flattered. He once again singles you out.”
“I would be flattered if I could comprehend him. I cannot do justice to his kindness. Nor am I sure he would be best pleased to know that I chanced upon his sister this morning in the grove, and she introduced herself. She was not at all what I expected. Even though she caught me running, she seemed forbearing and still sought to be known to me. She was not proud but was all things amiable.”
Charlotte smiled to herself. Darcy continued to admire her friend, and Elizabeth had now met the sister—another hurdle leapt successfully. The impediments to his offering for Elizabeth were gone, dead amidst a scandal of Anne’s making though few yet knew of it. Other than being in mourning, everything ought to progress nicely now. She sighed, feeling quite satisfied.
Charlotte believed her friend much better suited to Fitzwilliam Darcy than to Colonel Fitzwilliam. Why she held so fast to this opinion, she did not choose to ponder.
8 March 1812
I made sure our quadrille table was superlatively stupid, that I might observe EB’s behaviour when above her company in intellect if not in rank.
It was with great interest that I watched when she was informed that Rosings expects a visit from my cousin Fitzwilliam Darcy. I overheard her say to Mrs. Collins, with great expression in her eyes, she might be amused to see how he is received here, assuming to have the hopelessness of a certain Miss Bingley’s designs on Darcy confirmed by observing his behaviour to me! It soon became known to Mama that all of the ladies of the Hunsford vicarage had already been frequently seen by Cousin Darcy when he lately stayed in their neighbourhood. Mama was not at all pleased.
In sum, it appears to me that EB does not like Darcy but is prepared to be entertained by observing him, and the rumour is abroad that he and I are betrothed. How very bothersome. —A de B
30 March 1812
Like bees to honey, Darcy and Alex cannot resist EB. It would seem that Alex defers to Darcy though she seems more at ease and laughs comfortably with Alex. It takes no skill at observation to see Alex likes her very much, yet he holds back in a way so as to make me think there is some conspiracy betwixt my cousins. The men have made their pact, but I do not see that EB might approve of their decision. When Alex talks to her, he is self-conscious; he knows Darcy watches.
Yes, Darcy is the more intriguing study. I watched him as best I could when the Hunsford party visited but without much success. He certainly looked at her a great deal, but the expression of that look was disputable. It was an earnest steadfast gaze, but I could not detect much admiration in it, and sometimes it appeared to be nothing but absence of mind. But who would not be rendered insensate by my mother’s ceaseless prattle dominating all more refreshing opinions?
It is all too interesting. I wish I felt better. It is my condition, certainly, that preoccupies my thoughts and renders me less astute than is my wont. When next we are all together, which I believe will be Thursday evening, I must make a better effort to concentrate. Which cousin is assuming a right to her, and is it the one she prefers? I think one of the men will have to show more regard than he might truly feel in order to secure her. She must be left in no doubt if she is to be won. Please, Darcy…if you have warned Alex off, stop standing around staring and say something flattering. —A de B
Chapter 6
A Will of Iron
Tuesday, 14 April 1812
Over the period of half an hour, those summoned by Andrew Steventon, Esquire to his humble law offices in Hunsford had arrived, and all were seated. Georgiana Darcy entered first, accompanied by her brother and cousin. The colonel had a dual reason to be in attendance as both guardian to Miss Darcy and a beneficiary in his own right.
The colonel and Georgiana were surprised to see Elizabeth Bennet arrive next. She was welcomed most civilly by Mr. Steventon’s clerk and seated near a window. Elizabeth stood nervously from time to time, looking out onto the main road.
“May I ask whom you expect, Miss Bennet?” queried the colonel.
Elizabeth turned to respond. “Mrs. Collins, sir. She is waiting at the vicarage for another person, and both will be conveyed in Mr. Steventon’s carriage. I chose to walk.”
Steventon cleared his throat as if to speak when Lady Catherine de Bourgh swept into the room with a second, blabbering clerk following behind. The poor young fellow was mumbling apologies to his employer, who sighed wearily. “It is of no importance, Waverley. Bring another chair.”
Lady Catherine eyed Elizabeth narrowly, believing her somehow to be the real cause of all the mischief. “Surely, you have no right to any expectation from my daughter, Miss Bennet. You kn
ew her scarce a month.” Lady Catherine did not sound disdainful; her tone was one of plainly stated and obvious truth.
Elizabeth met the comment without alteration in her countenance of benign equanimity. “And yet, Lady Catherine, hither I was bid, and here I am.”
“Miss Elizabeth Bennet is named in the will, your ladyship, as you were previously informed,” stated Mr. Steventon with a hint of impatience.
Moments later a carriage was heard, and Lady Catherine huffed and grumbled when Mrs. Collins and Mrs. Jenkinson entered the room.
“I would sit by the window, Miss Bennet, please.” Lady Catherine spoke with exaggerated civility, standing suddenly as Mrs. Jenkinson was seated next to her. Once all were settled to their liking, the little lawyer began his recitation of the Last Will and Testament of Miss Anne de Bourgh.
“As the heiress of the de Bourgh fortune, it is incumbent upon me to act responsibly in the determination of the future of the fee simple Rosings Park estate and assets. I believe myself to be carrying the heir to Rosings, and should tragedy befall me, I must leave my financial affairs in good order for my child and the lasting betterment of the de Bourgh fortune. With these burdens foremost in mind, and being of sound mind and body [Lady Catherine sighed noisily at this, to be met by the censorious eye of Mr. Steventon], I make the following bequests:
“In the event of my passing, if I leave behind a child of my body of either sex, I request Miss Georgiana and Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy stand as Godparents and Guardians, notwithstanding that at the time of this will, Miss Darcy is not of age. I request the child be raised at Pemberley and such London schools as are deemed appropriate to said child’s interests and inclinations, and that visitation of the child by its maternal grandmother, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, be strictly limited in duration and always with the presence of one or both guardians.”
“This is not…” Lady Catherine began.
Steventon met her eye over his spectacles with a look that would not be gainsaid.
Lady Catherine’s remarks died on her lips.
Steventon resumed. “There is a recent codicil to this portion, dated Friday, the third of April, 1812.”
“It has come to my attention through my acquaintance with Miss Elizabeth Bennet that she might be as fair a Guardian to any infant of mine as Miss Darcy. Because Miss Elizabeth Bennet will be of legal age before the birth of my unborn child, I name her the child’s temporary female Guardian until Miss Georgiana Darcy is herself one and twenty. I believe Miss Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy will act for the benefit of the child.”
Not a head turned in the room. Even Lady Catherine met the request, which would never come to pass, with stunned silence. It may be assumed that Darcy and Elizabeth blushed in mortification. No one dared look at them.
“I set aside in trust for my child the entire de Bourgh fortune and Rosings Park income with exceptions listed as follows:
“I leave to my cousin, Colonel Alexander Richard Fitzwilliam, the sum of 50,000£ so that, at such time as he retires from his military service, he will never know want and may be less beholden to his family. He is a man of merit who did far greater by his office than I have heard of most second sons, and he was a devoted friend to me as well as a relation.”
A surprised inhale of breath was heard throughout the room, contributed rather equally by all of its occupants. Elizabeth unconsciously glanced at the colonel; the sum, having been mentioned between them in jest, was astonishing.
The colonel remembered Elizabeth’s words, a joke about the relative worth of a second son, and felt all eyes upon him. He dared not be distracted by the motion of Elizabeth’s head. He found himself embarrassed in public for the first time since childhood.
Darcy saw Elizabeth’s unguarded response to the colonel’s enrichment, wondering whether it had anything to do with the man’s blush. Was there already something—some familiar regard—between them? The very thought, although a notion that he would publicly support, caused him to frown.
“Such a sum, I trust, will allow him a wider choice as to marriage and, I pray, will allow him a greater likelihood of marrying for affection should he be so blessed as to feel it.
“To my long-time companion, Mrs. Elspeth Jenkinson, I leave 5,000£. Please allow Mr. Steventon or some other sensible person to invest it for you in the four percents to secure a lifetime income surpassing what you were paid per annum by my mother, who will no doubt not think to see to your care if I am gone.”
It should come as no surprise that Mrs. Jenkinson began to quietly weep. Darcy noticed the movement as Elizabeth took one of the lady’s hands.
“A trust will be established on behalf of Mrs. Charlotte Collins in the amount of 10,000£. Andrew Steventon, Esquire, Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, and Colonel Alexander Fitzwilliam will stand as trustees. The funds and any interest accrued may only be paid out to Mrs. Collins at her request in the case of dire need (assuming agreement by the trustees), or immediately upon her widowhood. In the event of her death, the trust will be dissolved and divided for the provision of her children. If there are none, the sum will be returned to the Rosings estate. Under no circumstances will Mr. William Collins hold any right to any monies from the trust, and he may make no claims against it.”
“Oh, Anne,” Lady Catherine sighed in disparagement.
Mrs. Jenkinson was sufficiently recovered to titter nervously.
Elizabeth reached across the lap of Mrs. Jenkinson to clasp Charlotte’s hand and bit her lip to keep from smiling.
“There is a last codicil, also dated from the third of April of this year,” Mr. Steventon stated. His attention turned to Elizabeth.
“Lastly, although our acquaintance is not one of long standing, I have come to know and admire Miss Elizabeth Bennet. The previous bequests will empty the readily accessible monetary assets of Sir Lewis de Bourgh as they were passed to me, but I am in possession of the de Bourgh jewels, and these I leave to you, Miss Elizabeth. I detect in you an intelligent and independent spirit, and knowing your family’s situation, I would not like to think you might need to make a living at some demeaning occupation or marry beneath your value to secure your well-being. At the time of my coming of age a year ago, the gem collection was valued at 30,000£. I know you will wish to see to the settlements of your sisters, but I do hope you secure your future with a major part.”
Here Mr. Steventon handed a separate document to Elizabeth. “She has included an inventory of the jewels, Miss Bennet, and further says…
“My mother is not to be trusted in this, and I include an inventory of the jewels, that you will know what the collection contains—”
“This is ludicrous,” Lady Catherine interrupted, leaping to her feet.
“Lady Catherine, sit down!” Darcy likewise stood and glowered at his aunt until she complied.
Elizabeth sat wide-eyed and nonplussed as Steventon continued.
“Miss Elizabeth will also have the right to any clothing or personal effects of mine which might be of use to her or her sisters. There is much in my wardrobe that was never worn, as my mother insisted I have a new selection of gowns and folderol ordered with the coming of each Season.”
Steventon surveyed the room. “And we conclude with…
“As regards my mother, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, my father’s will stipulated that she continue as Mistress of Rosings Park for the term of her life until I marry. Were I to marry (which I never intend to do), she would be removed to the dower house. Should both my child and I be lost, I leave to Colonel Alexander Richard Fitzwilliam the entire estate, fortune (as excepted by the above bequests), and its management. My dear cousin, I am told by the preparer of this document that the care of my mother is bound by the will of my poor father, and Lady Catherine de Bourgh will remain Mistress of Rosings until your marriage, but you may alter her allowance and household exp
enses as you see fit and prudent. I would advise a hasty marriage, and I wish you joy, Cousin Alex.
“And thus I end my Last Will and Testament and the disposition of my worldly goods. I name Andrew Steventon, Esquire, my executor in this, with payment of 50£ per annum from the Rosings estate for as long as his services in the execution of my wishes are required.”
Mr. Steventon looked up, smiling to have assisted in bringing such largess to them all. “This document and all of its parts have been registered in London with the Commons Court. Colonel, there is a sealed letter for you from Miss de Bourgh.” He handed the missive to its recipient.
The letter was a single sheet, dated “3 April 1812” and read simply:
My dear Cousin Alex,
If you do not secure the hand and affection of Miss Elizabeth Bennet, you are an utter damned fool, and I shall not have chosen my heir wisely. If Darcy will not have her, or as I expect, she will not have him, fill the void. Compromise her if there are no other means—seek atonement after. You will not succeed absent a wife of health and wit and capable of the sound management of my mother.
A de B
Darcy had remained standing and was looking over his cousin’s shoulder. Anne’s hand was elegant and eminently legible. He strode slowly to the window, gazing absently through the glass.
The colonel folded the letter into his pocket as he watched Darcy stalk away, assuming correctly that Darcy had read it.
“Steventon, is this travesty to be published?” Lady Catherine demanded when it was clear that the contents of the letter would not be forthcoming.
“Indeed, your ladyship. As regards a fee tail estate, with bequests outside the family, and since all of the concerned parties have been apprised of its contents, the Last Will and Testament of Miss Anne de Bourgh now transfers into the public record.”
“But my daughter behaved scandalously! I shall fight this. The will of a fallen woman cannot be legal. I shall have you know that I have my own will. You will hear from Messers. Phawcett and Drippe of London within the week.” Lady Catherine glanced imperiously at everyone. “I take no leave of you, sir.” She swept from the room.
A Will of Iron Page 6