“Mama, this ball is intended for only close family and friends.” Elizabeth struggled to explain her wishes for a smaller affair as she ate ravenously from her plate. She did not wish to eat so very much, but stuffed pheasant was one of her favorite dishes, and she suddenly found herself hungrier than she had anticipated, and they were only on the second course!
Lady Matlock raised an eyebrow as she watched her niece by marriage carefully. Mrs. Darcy never ascribed to the fashionable mode of eating like a bird in front of company, but Lady Matlock had never observed her nephew’s wife to indulge a full plate of food.
“A few additional flowers would not be a bad investment, as this is your debut in the neighborhood. But perhaps a compromise would be to inquire with the florist shop in Kympton? Help the local village, and the public sings your praises,” the countess wisely advised.
Just as Elizabeth nodded her head, loud voices erupted from the other end of the table.
“I see! I am to be bargained by my own family!” Robert shouted, his face purple with rage.
Elizabeth Darcy sucked in her breath as the moment of truth had finally arrived. She had hoped Lady Catherine and Lord Matlock would have more sense than to push the issue at dinner, or at least wait until the fourth course, but it seemed she was mistaken. Quickly glancing over for Kitty’s reaction, Elizabeth could not tell if her sister was distressed as Kitty’s eyes were focused upon Robert.
The Viscount Ashbourne rose from his chair and declared he had lost his appetite.
“Please sit down, Cousin, and set a good example,” Mr. Darcy stated calmly, glaring at his aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh.
“They should be married this summer! A unification of the house of Fitzwilliam and the house of de Bourgh, a union even Papa would have approved!” Lady Catherine pronounced.
“But they can’t get married this summer. Richard and Mary are to wed!” Kitty spoke up, to the amazement of many at the table.
“What’s this? You are one of the sisters no doubt. The marriage of a second son can always be moved for the rights of the firstborn. This is how the world operates, girl,” Lady Catherine said.
“Lady Catherine, my sister, Miss Catherine, only meant to say that our large family is already anticipating the nuptials of two others. You were sent an announcement, personally. And I am sure, given the sudden nature of these arrangements, both Cousin Anne and Cousin Robert may wish to court for a time before marching down the aisle,” Mrs. Darcy said, exerting her authority as hostess of the table.
“Robert, do sit down. No one is getting married this evening,” Lady Matlock flatly scolded her son and reached down to squeeze the hand of Anne beside her. The poor girl had turned white as a ghost in humiliation. Even Kitty looked sympathetically at Anne for the shame of rejection so publicly declared by her own cousin, no less.
Elizabeth smartly motioned for the second course to be cleared away, and a new course brought in its stead. Georgiana took the opportunity to talk of the Season, and include her cousin, Anne.
“Kitty was supposed to go with me, but she . . .” Georgiana trailed off as she realized she would be betraying her sister and close friend if she explained why the changes were made, yet the table looked at her expectantly.
“Kitty has decided to remain behind a year and let her sister Mary, shine, as well as assist Mrs. Darcy with the coming babe,” Mr. Darcy explained for his sister who had nearly committed a ghastly faux pas. Georgiana grinned and nodded back at Anne across the table.
“Yes, but now you will be with me, and we can have so much fun! We can be fitted for new gowns, though yours will be much prettier than mine for your trousseau,” the youngest Darcy attempted to lift everyone’s mood with her jubilation.
“There won’t be a trousseau unless Cousin Anne is marrying another,” Robert said sourly.
Silverware clanked in unison as both Lady Matlock and Lord Matlock dropped their utensils in exasperation.
“Oh, honestly, Robert. We raised you better than this!” his mother exclaimed, reaching for her wine.
“You apologize right now to your cousin!” his father scolded.
Robert looked for a single ally at the table. One by one, he was met with expressions of censure, indifference, or outright anger. Finally resting his gaze on Kitty, he felt a shortness of breath hitch in his chest. The young woman was much like her sisters and approved of cruelty towards none. When the two friends locked eyes, it was disappointment that Robert saw. She very somberly shook her head as she was ashamed of his behavior.
Clearing his throat, Robert turned to Anne who was now blushing and daring only to look at her hands in her lap.
“Anne, I do apologize. I fear this has all come as a shock to me. Tell me, when your mother told you of her plans to bring you to Pemberley, did she explain why?” Robert asked, thinking to perhaps shift the role of villain to another at the table.
Anne nodded, and Lady Catherine objected.
“Of course I informed her of the reason we came to my late sister’s home. My child is an obedient, loyal young woman who would be the most sought after debutante this Season if her health would but allow it. We have come in the spirit of charity to our family. To preserve the Matlock title,” Lady Catherine glared at her brother who turned purple at the insinuation the earldom was at stake.
“You will hold your tongue, Catty!” the earl mimicked their late father’s nickname for his eldest daughter, but it did not have the same effect as it had in a long distant past.
“But it’s true, the Matlocks have retrenched. It’s all over London.”
“No doubt by your hands,” Lady Matlock said flatly.
“Why, Lady Matlock, how could I have done such a thing to my dearest family? I’m afraid the source was another, one you sacked,” Lady Catherine indulged the curiosities of many at the table.
The younger women were very confused and Mrs. Bennet, who scarcely knew Lady Catherine, played right into the grand woman from Kent’s designs.
“Oh dear, one of your servants has spread tales?” Mrs. Bennet asked and before Lady Matlock could answer, Elizabeth Darcy, who had been sitting in a silent rage over the poor behavior for the evening, responded.
“No, Mother, one of mine. I do believe dinner has concluded. Shall we separate?” she asked her husband at the far end of the table who nodded as the footmen already marched forward to move Mr. and Mrs. Darcy’s chairs.
As the dining room fell into chaos, Elizabeth pulled Mrs. Reynolds aside as she entered from the foyer and asked for trays to be taken to Georgiana’s sitting room. She sent Anne, Georgiana, and Kitty upstairs. Her sister, hearing the order, objected to being sent away like a wayward child.
“I had hoped to play duets with Georgiana tonight,” Kitty complained, disappointed to be excluded from the grown-up conversations likely to happen in the first-floor drawing room. The drama over the forced marriage sounded far more interesting than an evening with Anne and Georgiana.
“Then go to the music room, upstairs. Please, Kitty, help Anne. Imagine how she must feel. Can I rely on you?” Elizabeth whispered conspiratorially.
Kitty looked to Anne and immediately felt remorseful.
“Perhaps the three of you can discuss the ball and make plans for that?” Elizabeth sweetened the prospect as Lady Matlock walked past keeping Lady Catherine distracted on their way to the formal drawing room instead of the more familial room above stairs where they had held the follies.
Finally joined by Georgiana and Anne, Kitty took the lead to whisper the plans, and the three young women quietly stole away upstairs. Elizabeth caught one last shared glance of solidarity with her husband as he and the men exited the dining room through to the southwestern door to head towards the library in the older wing of the household.
Rubbing her hands over her midsection, now gurgling and protesting at the fullness of both a meal and a baby, Elizabeth Darcy took a deep breath as a slight pain squeezed her backside, and then released. She counted to
ten, and when there was no sign of the pain returning, she reasoned they were only the practice contractions she had long been experiencing.
As much as Elizabeth wished she could take to her bed, she knew it would not serve to keep any peace if she avoided the drawing room. Spying her glass of wine half full on the table, Mrs. Darcy took a long gulp before handing it to a footman clearing the dinner away. Then she left her ruined dinner party for her elder female relations awaiting her across the foyer.
In the library, Mr. Darcy scowled at a portrait of his father over the mantle. He wondered how his father would handle his current predicament and took another sip of his cognac as his male relatives continued to argue behind him.
By keeping his back to the deliberations, Darcy hoped he would not be called for further comment and prayed his wife was making better progress with the women. His cousin Robert held his stubborn position, but even Fitzwilliam knew the man wouldn’t be able to hold out forever. The choice was to smooth things now and have a prayer of a happy marriage or continue to fight and result in an inevitable, but fractious, union between two cousins.
"I have already refused your marriage schemes in London. What makes you believe this time should be any different?" Robert Fitzwilliam repeated his same counter-argument to his father's plan for his son to marry Anne.
"Refused? Now see here, that allowance you enjoy so well-“
"Ha!" Robert scoffed, "you can not tempt with imagined riches."
"They would not be imaginary if you married. Darcy, tell him!" the Earl of Matlock implored.
Unfortunately, two men of the last name were present in the library, and they both spoke at once.
"I could not-" the younger Darcy and master of the house began.
"Perhaps-" the elder Alistair Darcy started.
Both men of the Darcy name glared at each other. But the elder nodded to show deference to his wealthier nephew. Sadly, this did not entirely please Fitzwilliam Darcy because he would have preferred to save his breath for his porridge.
"No, please continue Uncle Darcy," Fitzwilliam managed through clenched teeth.
"I couldn't possibly, after all, I am the eldest bachelor present. A life calling, perhaps, so what do I know of marriage?" he mused.
Darcy twisted his lips in annoyance at his uncle, while his other pounced upon the opportunity.
"Hear that, boy? You don't wish to end up like old Alistair here," the Earl of Matlock clapped his hand on the man's shoulder as his victim winced at the insult. The younger Darcy grimaced as well at his cousin being called ‘boy’ when he had already enjoyed the celebration of his third decade of life.
"’Tis not my fault the money is gone, Father. I am not the earl!"
The Darcy men both coughed as the subject strayed from the matter at hand. But they had all witnessed this exact account again and again. Mr. Darcy had hoped that in finally separating the conversation along gender lines, progress would finally be at hand. But old prejudices and burdens would not lessen.
"Bad business! A misfortune! Happens to the best and brightest, tell him, Darcy." This time the earl looked directly at his nephew.
"Occasionally we all have a bad investment." Mr. Darcy said flatly, disinterested in defending his uncle. The Matlock fortune had not been managed well in generations, that much was true. Fitzwilliam had warned his uncle to diversify as a measure of insurance against a bad crop year jeopardizing the family seat. But a decade of poor choices, indulgent extravagances, and neither of his cousins marrying had depleted the Matlock reserves.
"And your lifestyle was no help!" the earl scolded his eldest son.
“Yes, yes, it was my drunken carousing that drained the coffers,” Robert slunk away from his father and poured himself a drink as all of the servants had long been dismissed. Wagging servant tongues had brought Lady Catherine to the doorstep, but Fitzwilliam didn’t want worse to arrive next!
“ENOUGH!” Fitzwilliam Darcy raised his voice to such an uncharacteristic volume, the other men all gasped. Perhaps it had been the tediousness of the repeated conversations or perhaps it had been watching his cousin indulge himself yet again without an ounce of respect. Regardless, Fitzwilliam now unquestionably held the floor, and he stumbled for a moment to make his sentiments clear.
“There are-” he began, then stopped. He tried again. “Certainly-” Finally, he finished the remaining liquid in his glass and swiped the decanter away from his cousin, holding it as a talisman of his generosity.
“I shall speak plainly and to the point.” Fitzwilliam finally resolved. “There are no further arguments to be had. You will cease this foolhardy stubbornness and marry our cousin, Anne. So help me, you will even find it in you to be the dashing suitor and grant her the regard she deserves. I’ve seen you act, Cousin. You shall perform more than adequately.” Fitzwilliam heard his cousin begin a protest, but he cut him off.
“Tell me, do you love another?” Fitzwilliam did not entirely agree with his wife’s opinion about there being a love match between Kitty and his cousin, but he deferred to his wife’s expertise where it concerned her sisters. However, if his cousin could not declare at the moment a loyalty to another, he would be sparing Kitty greater heartache.
“What do you ask? Another? No, that is-“
“Good, we have that clear,” and Fitzwilliam spun on his heel to address his uncle, the Earl of Matlock.
“And you, sir, shall submit to a plan of fiscal responsibility.”
The Earl of Matlock turned scarlet as his anger piqued. “Now, see here Darcy, you cannot make such demands of your superior!”
Fitzwilliam Darcy grew further irritated as he noticed his other uncle silently slipping away from the conversation and closer to the library doors. Whether he aimed to meet with Mother Bennet or merely avoid his nephew’s censure on financial matters, Darcy could not know. But he disliked Uncle Darcy’s actions all the same.
“You shall submit or there shall be no wedding. Do you believe your sister and I would allow you to plunder the coffers of Rosings as you so thoroughly did Matlock? For shame, that you would seek to take advantage of your own family to compensate for your missteps.”
“All we have is this family, and I am the head of it!”
At this, Darcy would not argue, his uncle did hold the most senior title. And where he may not have a mind for money, his heart had always been large enough to take care of any need his children or nieces and nephews needed.
“I intend to see that you remain so, sir if you would accept a small amount of assistance. Even the King has his advisers. Excel in your sphere and allow me to excel in mine. I am my father’s son and follow his examples.”
This became the final blow. In possession of his late father’s journals, Darcy knew how much his father’s fortune had propped up the Matlock title when he married the daughter of an earl, back when his uncle was the wily Viscount Ashbourne. Invoking his father and how often he was compared to his memory made Darcy believe that perhaps the most significant source of discontent between the father and son before him was their own similarity in spirits.
“And this is what is to become of the great Fitzwilliams,” Robert added in a most unhelpful manner.
Darcy shrugged as the library door trembled closed from Alistair’s exit. “The world is changing, and we with it. Or we are doomed to the pages of history and forgotten.”
Grimly, the two remaining relations to Darcy nodded, and a silence of acceptance stifled any further conversation. As he still held the decanter in his hands, Mr. Darcy performed the gentlemanly task of offering his male relatives a drink.
And in a remarkable peace offering, the Earl of Matlock acted out of character and asked his son for his wishes on his coming nuptials. The conversation turned lighter as they talked of a happier future for all and on balance, even Robert admitted that marrying Anne was not so bad a fate, the woman did at least read.
Despite their notions of schedule and location, all three men knew their opinions wo
uld hold little weight. Those matters would be decided by the ladies. Their responsibilities would begin and end with appearing at the appointed times and signing the papers.
Chapter 10
“As I was saying at dinner . . . ” Lady Catherine turned her head repeatedly, looking around the otherwise empty room save the four eldest women residing in the house, “where is my Anne?”
“I sent Anne with Kitty and Georgiana to the music room,” Elizabeth explained, shifting in the ornate Brighton armchair. Her lower back ached, but she would not give in to rising and taking a walk about the room inviting inquiries into her health.
“I did not consent to that! Where are the footmen? I demand my daughter be fetched at once!” Lady Catherine tapped her walking stick on the floor as she did in her home to signal she needed assistance from the servants who stood along the wall. But there were no such doting footmen at Pemberley.
“Catty, there are no servants here so that we might discuss this family matter,” Lady Matlock explained.
"I should be happy to send for your daughter," Mrs. Bennet offered, but she was ignored.
Lady Matlock began to speak to Lady Catherine of dates, and Elizabeth Darcy addressed her mother.
"Please do not, Mama, do not leave me alone," Elizabeth whispered.
The two grand ladies were still conversing as though Elizabeth and her mother were not present until Lady Matlock turned and addressed Mrs. Darcy directly.
"The ball? It would be such a wonderful time to announce the engagement, allowing Anne a small preview of what she might expect in London this spring?" Lady Matlock inquired, her mind racing faster than her words of how to address the sudden engagement of her son and niece.
"But what about my Mary?" Mrs. Bennet asked as she realized quite quickly her own daughter, though she was her least favorite, was to be set aside for the excitement of the nuptials between Viscount Ashbourne and Anne de Bourgh.
Mrs. Darcy gently shook her head. "I can confidently state that both Mary and Richard will find these new plans very much to their liking."
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