Fate and Consequences

by Linda Wells

  She snorted and resumed her seat. “He has shown no sign of marrying any woman, so why not Anne if he is so disinterested?”

  “His reticence makes him all the more sought.” He regarded her warily. “You will drop this Catherine. He has enough trouble without your demands.” She rolled her eyes and huffed, but said nothing. “Catherine, I once supported this plan because our sister wished it, but after speaking with Darcy … he is very bitter over his mother’s treatment of him. He feels no compelling desire to honour anything that she might have wished for him. I doubt that he would plant her favourite roses at Pemberley, so he most certainly will not marry Anne. Give this up.”

  Lady Catherine glared at him. “I suppose his father was against the union?”

  Lord Matlock sighed. “I suppose he was.”

  “That man!” She spat. “It was all his doing. If Anne had not married him …”

  “She would have been shunned just as Georgiana is now, and you, dear sister, would have been ruined along with her.” Lady Catherine, about to retort, snapped her mouth shut. Lord Matlock quietly spoke. “She is our concern now. I have hopes that she will someday be able to marry. She is very young. There is time to recover her reputation.”

  She shook her head. “She was completely compromised.”

  “She was not.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Darcy asked her.” He said simply. Lady Catherine sniffed with disbelief. “Catherine, is Georgiana George Darcy’s daughter?”

  Her eyes flashed. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that I am aware of our sister’s habits, as well as our brother’s. I knew the goings on at Pemberley. They were the subject of much gossip in years past, although, the behaviour at the house parties there were not unlike many other of the great homes.” He looked at her carefully. “I ask, is she the daughter of another man?”

  She would not meet his eye. “I do not know.”

  He nodded. “There is nothing to be done if it were true. George Darcy had his doubts, but he accepted her. I always thought it curious that Anne named Georgiana after the husband she disliked, as if the name would curry his favour for the girl when she knew she would die.” Lady Catherine looked at him sharply. “No matter, what is done is done. She is a Fitzwilliam at the very least, so that is good enough for me. I will do all I can to help Darcy through this mess.” He stared pointedly at her. “And you will return to Rosings.” He held up his hand at her furious protest. “No Catherine, I am the head of this family. You will not follow Darcy to Pemberley; you will go home to your daughter.”

  Lady Catherine considered him for a moment and realized further discourse was not going to be productive. She decided to write to Darcy. “I am not through, Henry!” She stood, and in a swirl of skirts she strode majestically from the room.

  Lord Matlock sat silently for some time thinking over the conversation. He knew if Catherine could devise a way to force the wedding she would, but only a total compromise of Anne … and even after that, he doubted Darcy would ever give in. He was strong, he would resist. Georgiana however, was she truly a Darcy? He supposed they would never know. He summoned his butler and informed him the family would remove to Matlock in three days. He could not wait to put London and the gossip behind him.

  “MR. DOUGLASS, it is a pleasure to see you again.” Darcy met the heavyset man in front of the house where he had been taking in the breeze during a break from his endless paperwork.

  Mr. Douglass smiled and shook his hand. “Mr. Darcy, you are looking well, and Pemberley is as magnificent as ever. Your father would be proud of the care you have taken here.”

  Darcy smiled. Mr. Douglass was a very wealthy man, a brewer, owning at least one hundred alehouses in Derbyshire and the surrounding counties, and a very good customer of Pemberley’s crops. He was here for his annual visit, to discuss the harvest, and any ideas for the next year’s production. “I see that you have an assistant this year?” Darcy acknowledged the young man beside him, who could not hide the wonder in his eyes, taking in the beautiful home.

  “Ah, yes, Fitzwilliam Darcy, may I present my eldest son, Marshall?” Darcy bowed as did Marshall. “It is a pleasure, sir. I understand that you have recently finished at University?”

  The young man nodded. “Yes, I did sir, Oxford. Now Father is bringing me along on his calls.”

  Mr. Douglass grinned as Darcy led the way into the house. “Yes indeed, I am glad to finally have him by my side. It will be a few years before my next son can join us.”

  Darcy nodded, “Quite a few, as I recall, he was just entering Eton last year.”

  Mr. Douglass beamed. “Excellent memory, sir. I always like how you and your father remember every detail, whether it be of the granary or my daughter’s favourite sweet.”

  They were about to enter Darcy’s study when Marshall stopped dead, and stared down the hallway. Georgiana had emerged from the music room and stood staring in open-mouthed surprise at the young man. She gave a little cry and disappeared back into the room, firmly closing the door. His head tilted, watching her go, and when he turned at the sound of his father’s clearing throat he startled and straightened. Darcy’s imperious gaze caught his eye and he looked away. The men took their seats around the desk and began to discuss the year’s barley, rye and wheat production. Mr. Douglass suggested trying hops and Darcy took notes, as did his steward who was sitting at a desk nearby. “I understand that you have acquired several more alehouses of late, you have expanded greatly in the past year.”

  He nodded. “Yes, it seems that the proprietors are pleased to have someone supplying the brew, rather than making it themselves. They can concentrate on other aspects, like their food or in some cases, running a good inn. I have men overseeing the houses, of course, making surprise inspections. Nothing with my name on it will be shoddy!” He looked over to his son. “Marshall is coming around with me to see the entire operation, and will decide which part he would like to take over.”

  Darcy raised his brows. “Perhaps you should spend an extended period in each, so that you will learn it all well. My father had me mucking out stalls and harvesting wheat long before I went to Cambridge. I must say that as much as I disliked it, the experience has been invaluable, and gives me more authority when speaking to my labourers and farmers. I have the scars from my first attempt at shearing sheep, and the respect that earns me is worth every bit of the humiliation I suffered.”

  Marshall smiled. “I believe that I have poured enough ale to make all of London drunk, sir, and made enough leaky kegs to waste a year’s worth of profits.”

  The men laughed, and Darcy nodded at him. “I do hope that either your skills improved or someone recognized that the position of cooper was not your calling.”

  He grinned. “Ah yes, I was smartly sent off to work with the brew master.” A knock at the door interrupted them.

  “Come.” Darcy called.

  Mrs. Reynolds entered. “Forgive my intrusion sir, Miss Darcy asks if your guests will join you for the meal.”

  Darcy looked at the men with raised eyebrows, “Well, Mr. Douglass? You are welcome.”

  He smiled. “We would enjoy it, I know. Pemberley has always set a fine table, but we must move on soon. We want to be on our way home tonight. My wife Sarah’s birthday is in a few days, I dare not miss it!”

  Darcy turned to Mrs. Reynolds, “It seems it will only be the two of us then, Mrs. Reynolds.”

  She nodded and curtseyed. “Yes sir.”

  Darcy looked back to his guests and saw Marshall biting his lip. “Was the young lady in the hallway Miss Darcy?”

  Darcy watched him carefully. “Yes, that was my sister.”

  “She seemed, looked … very sad.” He wrinkled his brow. “Is she well?”

  Darcy drew a breath and touched his chest briefly. “She has received a shock recently, but is recovering.” He looked away, obviously unwilling to say more.

  Mr. Douglass saw his discomfort. “Was
that Miss Darcy? Well, she has grown up. I remember coming here to see your father, and she was hanging onto his leg for dear life.” He laughed. “She must be seventeen now?”

  Darcy smiled slightly, remembering her never leaving his father alone. “Fifteen.”

  Mr. Douglass grinned. “Well, that is a relief; I am not as old as I thought.” He glanced over at his son, who looked disappointed at hearing her age. He grinned. “Too young for you, my boy.”

  He startled and his eyes met the stern gaze of her older brother. “I … I thought she was very pretty.” Darcy’s eyes narrowed. “But yes, too young.” His face reflected his regret.

  “Well, we have taken enough of your time, sir.” They all rose and shook hands. “Let me know the yields when the harvest comes in, and we’ll decide on what we would like to purchase for the spring.”

  Darcy nodded and showed them out the door. “Very good, I certainly enjoy doing business with you, and look forward to contacting you or Douglass in the future.”

  Marshall could not stop himself from glancing down the hallway again when they left the study, a move observed by both of his companions. Mr. Douglass met Darcy’s eyes with raised brows. Darcy watched them board their coach and slowly returned to the house, thinking over the young man’s reaction to Georgiana. He wondered if they had known the news of her ruin would she still have earned his interest, or if she was not suitable for a brewer’s son either. It was a match he never would have considered before, thinking her a candidate for the son of a peer, but to be courted by the son of a wealthy brewer was very respectable as well, but something for the distant future. He sighed and returned to the silence of his study.

  DANNY ARRIVED at Pemberley four days after his delivery to Longbourn, and looked forward to delivering Miss Elizabeth’s message. He was a simple lad, seventeen, orphaned four years earlier when his parents’ home burned taking his two sisters and brother. They had been tenants of Pemberley. He easily could have been sent to a workhouse, but Darcy saw how fond he was of horses and found him a place in the Pemberley stables. Darcy watched him exercising the horses one day, and noticing his skill asked how he felt about working as his personal messenger. Danny, already deeply loyal to his master, jumped at the chance to see the countryside. He had formed a friendly sort of banter with the man that most everyone else saw as so solemn and sedate they were sure his face would crack if he smiled. But since Danny started bringing these letters to and from Longbourn, his master had definitely changed. Being a healthy young man, Danny could well imagine why when he saw Miss Elizabeth’s sparkling eyes. He kept his views to himself, but he had a feeling he would soon be wishing his master joy.

  Darcy was just entering his study after a day in the fields watching the harvest begin when Danny made his appearance. “Sir, I have your letter from the solicitor.” He began to open his pouch.

  “I am surprised to see you so soon. I did not expect you until tomorrow.”

  He grinned. “Ah well, I had a feeling I should move as fast as possible, sir.”

  Darcy smiled slightly at his enthusiasm. “I appreciate that, but there was no pressing need to make such haste.”

  “Aye, sir, but that was not the only letter I have, sir.” He pulled out Elizabeth’s envelope. “Miss Elizabeth asked me to wait a moment after I delivered your letters. She went into the house and came back with this.” He handed the bulging envelope to the suddenly speechless Darcy. His heart was in his throat and his hands fairly shook as he received the missive.

  “You say that she gave you this before she read the letters?”

  “Yes sir, I could not stay for her response.”

  “Oh.” He looked from the envelope, to Danny, to the door.

  Danny caught the hint. “I’ll just be going, sir. Oh, and sir, I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so happy to get a letter before.” He touched his cap. “Good day, sir!” He grinned at the dumbfounded expression on Darcy’s face and left the room, closing the door behind him.

  His heart beating hard, Darcy carefully opened the oddly folded envelope. Inside the sheet he found a small bunch of lavender, tied with a yellow ribbon. He lifted it to his face and drank in the scent, feeling surrounded by her. He looked down on the page and gazed in wonder at the simple words.

  I miss you, my friend.

  Elizabeth

  His knees suddenly failed him and he sank down into his chair. “Oh, Elizabeth.” He gently caressed the ribbon he just knew she wore in her hair. “What have you done to me?” He lifted the wilting leaves to his nose again. “Have you read my letter, Elizabeth? Do you regret sending this token now?” What he was feeling was something he could not name. It was so unfamiliar, but all he knew was that it was so very welcome. He closed his eyes and held the lavender, brushing the leaves to release the scent again. “I hardly know her.” He spoke to the empty room. “What am I doing?” He thought of the smile she wore when she spotted him standing by his horse and his heart lurched again. He shook his head. How could she ever entertain a relationship with him, let alone a friendship, now that he had confessed all to her? And he, what was he doing? If there was any hope at all of restoring Georgiana’s place in society, the last thing he should be doing is contemplating a … friendship with a daughter of a country squire.

  Darcy felt the war raging between his heart and head. He feared Elizabeth’s rejection and deeply needed her … friendship. Her still unknown reaction to his letter forced him to turn to the only solid knowledge he possessed, his duty. Darcy stood, straightened his shoulders, and drew a deep breath. He should very quickly marry, and well. That would help more than anything, Aunt Catherine was correct in that. It did not have to be Anne, Uncle Henry assured him he would be welcome in town the next Season, he could just find some heiress and make that marriage of convenience, sacrifice his happiness for Georgiana’s future. Yes. That was what I should do. Stop this foolishness now! He took the small token and turned to toss it in the grate, and realized no fire would be lit there for weeks. He went to pick up a tinder box on the mantle to set it alight, but found his hand shaking when he opened it. Turning to his desk, he pulled open a drawer and dropped the symbol of Elizabeth’s friendship within and closed it soundly shut, letting out a long breath. His chest grew tight, and he unconsciously reached inside his coat to rub the pain, and found himself drawing out her handkerchief. He looked down at the cloth in his hand and sighed. “Oh Elizabeth, what am I to do?”

  Chapter 9

  After another sleepless night, Darcy arose at dawn, eager to join his steward at work on the estate. They were to the grist mill that day, to watch the installation of the new grinding stones, then off to interview tenants about the new type of barley they planted that year, anything, anything to occupy his mind away from the sure knowledge that today a letter would come from Longbourn. During his night of tossing in his bed and then rising to pace the room to stare out at the moonlit lawn, Darcy struggled with the feelings he was carrying for Elizabeth. He refused to label them. If upon receiving her letter, or worse, never hearing from her again, he found himself rejected, he did not want to know that he had offered anything of himself other than his friendship. He had lost friends before, simply by growing apart or by argument, but to lose this friendship, when he knew already it was more than anything he had ever experienced with any woman … it would leave him unable to contemplate ever trying again. So he avoided his home, and worked the day through. Finally exhaustion and hunger forced his hand and he did return. Upon entering he eyed his study door, located just at the right of the entrance, and turned for the stairs. He bathed, he dressed, he descended to the music room where Georgiana could be heard playing. He stood in the doorway, quietly watching her concentrate, and tried to relax.

  Georgiana finished the piece and spotted him. “William!” She stood and smiled at him. “Oh I am so glad you are home!”

  He was stunned. “Georgiana, what has happened to you? Forgive me, but you seem so different, so much happier,
what has inspired such a wonderful improvement?”

  “I received a letter from Elizabeth today.” Her eyes glowed with excitement.

  “You did?” Darcy hardly recognized his voice, it was suddenly hoarse. The letters had come. At least one had. “What did Eliz … Miss Elizabeth have to say?”

  “Oh, William, it was so … positive, so … she told me that whatever was in my past I could not control, but my future I could. She said that even if my future did not become what I had always envisioned, there was no reason that I could not be just as happy, or happier with whatever it did hold for me. She said that it was up to me to determine what caused me to behave the way that I did, and to accept responsibility for the consequences, but that I also must not spend the rest of my days regretting it.”

  He stared at her in wonder. He knew that Elizabeth had taken what she had learned from his letter and combined it with the melancholy of Georgiana’s and determined a way to reach her. A feeling of hope for Georgiana, and for himself, began to rise in his breast. “Eliz … Miss Elizabeth told you that?”

  “Yes, she told me to talk about it, too.” She looked over to Mrs. Annesley. “We have been talking quite a great deal today, have we not?”

  She smiled encouragingly. “Indeed we have, Miss Darcy, and we will for some time, I am sure.”

  Darcy looked between the two and smiled a little. “Would you like to talk with me? I would be happy to hear you, Georgiana.”

  She looked down and her smile faded. “No, not yet Brother. I … I have much to think about. My behaviour affects you in some ways more than me, and I must … I must work through it.” She glanced up with trepidation.

  He gave her hand a squeeze. “Whenever you are ready.”

  They moved into the dining room, and enjoyed a conversation about what each had done during the day, both of them speaking more than they had in weeks, and afterwards, she entertained him for some time with her playing. Eventually he decided that he was being a coward and excused himself to work in his study.