“So you invited the sort of men who accidentally touch their dinner partners, and hired that idiot clergyman Collins, whom you knew would not support Anne and would not be interesting to her.”
“He was my choice.”
Darcy raised his eyebrows. He hadn’t heard about the groping dinner companions, or realized his aunt had hired a clergyman Anne would never fall in love with. Lady Catherine, and Richard, were both more cunning than he’d realized.
“You had a right to make the choice, but you should have consulted Anne.”
Again, silence filled the room. Darcy resisted the urge to look around the doorframe.
“Aunt Catherine, we’re being as kind about this as we can,” Richard said. “It could be much worse. Don’t you see you’ve done things that are illegal? We had to stop you before you went too far. Even a lady can hang.”
“Hang? Don’t be absurd, Richard. I haven’t done anything illegal, let alone to hang for.”
“Forcing Miss Elizabeth into a carriage was kidnapping.” Richard’s voice was soft.
“You forced me to leave Rosings.”
“I seem to remember you sent people to evict one of your tenants, what was it? Three or four years ago?”
“They hadn’t paid their rent.”
“Meaning they had no right to stay. You had no right to stay at Rosings.”
“Rosings is mine,” she snapped.
“No. It isn’t, and hiring someone to kill Miss Elizabeth will not make it yours, and is a hanging offence.”
Lady Catherine gasped. “I did no such thing.”
“I read the letter you wrote to Mr. Wickham. He fled the country because he knew Miss Elizabeth wouldn’t marry him and didn’t want to be a murderer. He was afraid of what you would do to him.”
Lady Catherine started laughing. For his part, Darcy didn’t find anything amusing in what Richard said. Beside him, Bingley shifted. Darcy looked over to see him frowning.
“Fled the country?” Lady Catherine chortled. “I was only going to write an angry letter to my cousin in the government. He would have been able to have Mr. Wickham dismissed from his post. He’s no loss to the militia, I’m sure. I didn’t ask him to murder her.”
“You said he should separate her from Darcy by any means,” Richard said in that same calm tone.
Darcy clenched his fists again, impressed with his cousin’s forbearance. Obviously, it was the right way to handle Lady Catherine, as she was calming. Darcy wasn’t sure he’d be able to manage it, though.
“I didn’t mean murder.”
“What did you mean?”
“He should compromise her. Seduce her, if necessary. Darcy wouldn’t marry her then. She may be alluring to him, but he’d have no use for Wickham’s used goods.”
Darcy started to move forward in anger, but Henry reached past Bingley and caught his arm. Reluctantly, Darcy stepped back against the wall.
“And if she’d refused to be compromised or seduced? How did you expect him to accomplish that without some cooperation on her part? Even if you won’t believe Miss Elizabeth loves Darcy, you can’t imagine a woman who had him on the line would willingly find herself in Mr. Wickham’s embrace.”
This time, the silence stretched out long enough that Darcy began to wonder if they should leave.
“If you thought you were doing something acceptable, you would have signed the letter,” Richard said.
A strange sound came from the room. Bingley turned questioning eyes on him. Darcy held up a hand, trying to identify the noise. After a moment he looked past Bingley to Henry, who appeared as stunned as Darcy felt. Lady Catherine was weeping.
“I’m going to be married soon,” Richard said. “If you invite me, I’ll come and stay with you. I may not be able to stay more than a short time, because I’ve heard they will be giving me a regiment to command. If you want my company, you’ve only to ask, but you must invite my wife as well, and she is Miss Bennet’s sister. She is the kindest woman I’ve ever known. She is aware of what you’ve done, and tried to do, to her sister, but she will forgive you. If you let yourself, I’m sure you’ll come to care for her.”
A chair creaked against the backdrop of Lady Catherine’s growing sobs. Footsteps crossed the room. Richard came out. He nodded to them, seeming unsurprised to see them there. With a gesture for them to follow, he led the way to the door.
Once they were outside, Bingley offered each of them his hand, in turn. “Thank you, gentlemen, my lord. I couldn’t have done this without you. In spite of everything you three and Anne told me, I didn’t realize Lady Catherine was so . . .” He trailed off, looking about helplessly.
“Formidable?” Richard supplied.
“Unyielding?” Darcy suggested.
“Stark raving mad?” Henry said, grinning.
Bingley chuckled. “Perhaps all three. Regardless, you have my thanks. Will you join us at Rosings? I’m sure Anne would be happy to have you.”
Darcy didn’t care to. He wouldn’t admit it to his cousins or Bingley, but he missed Elizabeth. Waking up each morning knowing he wouldn’t see her was bleeding his days of any trace of happiness. He glanced at Richard, who gave a slight shake of his head in the negative. Henry, Darcy noted, was grinning at the two of them.
“No, thank you,” Darcy said, realizing he’d let the silence go on too long. “We have to return to help ready for Richard’s wedding. We’ll still see you and Anne for it?”
“We wouldn’t miss it,” Bingley said. “I’m sure we’ll have things well enough in hand here by then. We nearly do. Mr. Veitch plans to watch Lady Catherine and made it very clear he wouldn’t stand for her returning to Rosings. Also, we’re finding more of the servants were loyal to Anne than we’d suspected, especially the maids and kitchen staff. She was kind to the maids and she ate the cook’s food, not sending every dish back with a reprimand. It’s more a few key positions we need to fill, and we can borrow from Netherfield while we sort it all out.”
“Did you really tell the servants to spy on Lady Catherine?” Henry asked.
Bingley looked a bit embarrassed. “No. It was Anne’s idea to say we were. She made the servants come in one at a time for their wages and she kept some a little longer. James and John were each kept for much longer. I’m sure someone will report it to Lady Catherine as suspicious.”
That did seem too devious for Bingley, but Darcy found himself unsurprised that Anne had thought of it. “We’ll expect you soon, then,” Darcy said.
Bingley left and Darcy set about organizing their return to Pemberley, chaffing at every delay. By the time their property and servants were sorted and all the proper instructions given, his mood was one of impatience. He ushered Henry and Richard into the carriage and knocked on the roof to signal they could be on their way.
Darcy settled into his seat, letting his mind turn to Elizabeth. They were leaving late enough in the day that they might have to spend three nights on the road, so he would have to wait to tell her what had happened in Kent. He worried over what details he should gloss over, to spare her feelings, or if he should tell her all. He was eager to walk beside her again. To hear her voice and her soft laughter. Perhaps visit their glade. Maybe—
“A bit on edge, aren’t you, Darcy?” Henry’s voice intruded into Darcy’s thoughts. “Keen to be reunited with a certain beguiling pair of eyes, among Miss Elizabeth’s other assets?”
Darcy turned a repressive frown on Henry, but that only elicited a grin.
“I don’t know about Darcy, but I’m keen on seeing Jane again. I can’t say I haven’t missed her,” Richard said. “Now that Aunt Catherine’s in hand, you shouldn’t have any trouble getting Mr. Bennet’s permission to marry Elizabeth, Darcy.”
“Would you like me to put in a good word for you?” Henry asked.
“No.” Darcy doubted he’d need help, or that anything Henry would say would be helpful.
“It’s too bad he refused you before,” Henry said. “You’re a week
behind Richard. Otherwise, you could have had a double wedding.”
“You jest, but it would have made Jane happy.” A look of guilt flashed across Richard’s face. “I know Elizabeth hasn’t told Jane about your most recent proposal and Mr. Bennet’s refusal. I’m afraid I did. I can’t seem to help myself. I tell her everything. She’s so accepting, and she always places things in a pleasant light, leaving my world brighter than before we conversed.” He shrugged. “The point is, she would have liked a double wedding.”
“So put yours off,” Henry said.
Richard’s eyes widened. “I, that is, rather--”
Henry laughed, slapping his brother on the back. He reached into his coat and pulled out some papers. Opening one, he read it, refolded it and put it back. He handed one to Darcy and another to Richard. “I think I have a solution.”
“What’s this?” Darcy opened it as he asked. To his surprise, it was a special license for him and Elizabeth. He looked up at Henry. “How do you have this?”
“I got it at the same time as Anne’s. If you’re going to let an archbishop do you a favor, there’s no reason to make it easy on him.”
Darcy didn’t try to hide his smile.
PEMBELREY
In mere hours, Elizabeth would be his. Forever.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The day before their weddings, Elizabeth and Jane were listening to Mary and Georgiana practice the duets they planned to play for the celebration to be held on the marrow. Jane and Richard would have the luxury of leaving the day following the weddings, but Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy would remain in Pemberley, and their guests would as well, at least for a few days. Then, everyone would depart, including Georgiana, who would return to London with Lady Agatha and Mrs. Annesley.
Miss Bingley, who sat reading as far away from Elizabeth and Jane as the room permitted, would also be returning to London, along with the Hursts. She had a sour expression on her face. Elizabeth assumed she was only in the same room as they were because she was too proud to visibly mope. Looking at Miss Bingley’s pinched face, Elizabeth tried not to be annoyed that she and Mr. Darcy must entertain guests on their wedding day. She supposed that was why people didn’t normally host their own nuptials, or at least partially so.
Elizabeth turned her attention from Miss Bingley and back to the happier occupation of listening to Mary and Georgiana play. There was a rustle of fabric. Elizabeth turned to see her mother fly into the room, followed by the other married ladies. They were quite the parade. The group had regained Anne several days ago, and been augmented by Mrs. Gardiner when she and Uncle Gardiner arrived for the weddings. They’d been spending their afternoons in cheerful discussion in a sunny parlor on the west side of the manor.
Cheerful discussion had obviously given way to something more lively today. Mrs. Bennet’s face was red and her breath ragged. Elizabeth stared at her in surprise, for she’d grown accustomed to her mother’s of-late more decorous ways. Mary and Georgiana stopped playing. Both looked over with startled expressions.
“Where is Mr. Bennet?” Elizabeth’s mother cried, waving a piece of paper.
Jane stood. “Mother, what’s wrong? Is everyone well?”
Elizabeth scrutinized the array of women who’d followed her mother in. Mrs. Hurst looked annoyed, which would have been typical a month ago, but was an expression she’d worn much less often since Mr. Bingley’s wedding. Mrs. Annesley’s expression was neutral, Mrs. Gardiner’s undecipherable. Anne and Lady Agatha both appeared amused. “He’s not in the library?” Elizabeth suggested.
“How can my nerves be expected to take a shock like this?” Mrs. Bennet cried, collapsing onto a sofa.
Mrs. Gardiner glanced at her, then turned back to Elizabeth and Jane. “He is not. We looked there first.”
“Weren’t he and Uncle Gardiner speaking to Mr. Darcy about fishing today?” Mary said from where she and Georgiana still sat at the piano.
Mrs. Bennet let out a chortling cry. Jane hurried across the room to her.
Elizabeth followed, worried her mother had spilled over the edge into madness. Perhaps repressing her volatility these long weeks in Pemberley had done her mind harm. “Mother, what is the matter?”
Her mother waved the paper she held. Elizabeth wasn’t sure if she was crying or laughing, and wondered if they should slap her. She decided to read the page first, and caught it after one failed attempt. It contained Lydia’s handwriting. Elizabeth held it so Jane could read it with her.
“Lydia and the Earl of Matlock?” Elizabeth breathed, shocked.
“Your sister and Lord Henry?” Miss Bingley surged to her feet. “Why are they contained jointly in a letter?”
Elizabeth had all but forgotten Miss Bingley was there.
“They’ve eloped,” Mrs. Bennet cried.
Elizabeth realized her mother really was laughing. Not sobbing, or in hysterics, but practically giggling with joy.
“They what?” Miss Bingley screeched. The book she was holding dropped to the floor with a thud.
“Not really eloped, Mama,” Jane said, looking up from the letter. “It says they took Kitty with them as a chaperone for Lydia so it would all be proper before they married and that Papa gave his blessing.”
“Gave it in writing, with witnesses signing as well,” Elizabeth added. “Very thorough. It seems more of a marriage than an elopement, though they did run off this morning to do it.”
“Married?” Miss Bingley’s second screech, louder than the first, caused Elizabeth to wince. “The Earl of Matlock has married your sister?”
Elizabeth composed her face. “So the letter says.” She looked around the room. “You’ve all seen it?”
The gathered women nodded.
Elizabeth turned to Miss Bingley. “If I understand properly, they should be back soon. They have a special license and left early this morning. It’s not really an elopement, but it was unkind of Father not to tell us.”
Miss Bingley let out a high-pitched wail. It echoed about the room as she ran forward, pushing the ladies arrayed across the end of the room aside to reach the door. The sound, uninterrupted, trailed back to them as Miss Bingley fled down the hall.
“Jane with a dashing colonel, Lizzy to one of the wealthiest men in England, and now Lydia to an earl. An earl,” Mrs. Bennet reiterated.
Elizabeth grimaced, casting an embarrassed glance at the women still gathered to either side of the doorway. This was precisely the sort of carrying on she’d been pleased not to see from her mother in recent weeks. The others, though, merely looked amused.
“Yes, Mama, we all heard,” Mary muttered.
Jane sighed. “Trust Lydia to run off and get married the day before our weddings.”
“It’s better than trying to steal attention from us during our weddings,” Elizabeth said.
Mrs. Hurst had turned to face down the hall. “Caroline took that better than I expected.”
Elizabeth wondered how Miss Bingley could have behaved worse, but decided she didn’t wish to know.
“An earl,” Mrs. Bennet murmured, chuckling.
Georgiana stood up, drawing everyone’s eyes. She flushed. “I guess, that is, I mean, congratulations are in order. We should arrange something special for their return.” She looked around. “Shouldn’t we?”
Lady Agatha smiled at her. “Yes, dear, that would be lovely.”
***
Darcy reclined on one of the sofa’s in the library, a snifter held loosely in one hand. He and his cousins were enjoying a quiet drink. There had been many toasts at dinner, perhaps more than were wise. They’d Henry’s marriage to celebrate, and Darcy’s and Richard’s upcoming weddings in the morning to raise their glasses to. Now, though, the celebrating was over for a time. It was quite late. Everyone else had retired. Darcy knew he should as well, but he was too comfortable to move.
Richard chuckled. “I can’t believe you married that girl, Henry.”
“Why’s that? You’re marrying a Bennet
girl. Pretty things, most of them.”
“She’s half your age,” Darcy felt compelled to mention.
“The good half.”
Darcy wasn’t quite sure what that meant, but he joined Richard and Henry in laughing.
“Be serious, though. Why did you run off and do it?” Richard asked.
“You’re not making sense. Do you want to know why I married her or why we ran off?”
“Both,” Darcy said.
Henry shrugged. “We ran off because Lydia thought it would be fun. She wanted to be the first to marry, and she thinks eloping is romantic. She also wants to lord over her two oldest sisters with her new rank. In the normal course of events, we would marry and then leave. Now she gets to do it and stay for their weddings.”
“You eloped to encourage your wife’s bad behavior?” Richard said incredulously.
“She’ll get over it. She needs to do it somewhere. Her family doesn’t respect her, so this won’t change anything.”
Darcy frowned, thinking that through. It seemed to make a great deal of sense, but he was aware he’d drank a bit more than usual. “Why her?”
“Describe her,” Henry said.
“She’s tall, she’s fair, she’s got--” Richard began.
“Not physically. Describe her character,” Henry cut in.
“Headstrong. Energetic. Cheerful. Heedless of what others think. Not very bright,” Darcy offered.
“Now describe me,” Henry said.
Darcy saw his cousin’s point, but he shook his head. “You’re much more intelligent than she is and you care what others think.”
“I was stupid when I was her age and didn’t care what people thought. Now, I court good opinion when it’s useful to me. It often is. I’ll teach her the advantages of that.”
Darcy muddled his way through that one. “Wait, if you court good opinion because it’s useful, why were you courting it in Hertfordshire? What did it gain you?”
“I did it to help you.”
“Now you’re not making sense,” Darcy said. “Not a lick of it.”
Courting Elizabeth: A Pride and Prejudice Variation Page 25