Elizabeth gave him a brief nod and swept ahead. She would persuade Charlotte to walk into Hunsford village with her that they might escape the attentions of all unwanted men. Be they a Mr Darcy or a Mr Collins.
Chapter 4
Lady Catherine found Anne with Mrs Jenkinson. She sent the companion away and took her daughter’s arm.
“Anne, today you will walk with your cousin,” she ordered.
Anne sighed. She looked at her mother’s stern face and flinched. She swallowed and gathered her courage to speak.
“But why, Mother?” she asked. At her mother’s dark expression, she looked away, already regretting having spoken.
But something was different this time. Until Elizabeth Bennet arrived in Kent, Anne had seen no one contradict her mother before. The first time Elizabeth had done so had been the day they first met her when she demurred admitting her age. Anne had tensed up, waiting for the inevitable explosion. Instead, her mother had seemed intrigued and even spoke of Miss Bennet sometimes with grudging respect. How wonderful it would be to speak freely without trying to assess her mother’s moods to anticipate her response. To know she had the right to speak up for what she wanted without risking her mother’s rage. She tested it now.
“I have a headache, and I am tired. May I not lie down?”
It was true. Anne often felt fatigued and fretful. No physician from London could find the cause.
She could only recall having one brief but blessed reprieve from her mysterious illness. During one particular visit to their house in London, her mother allowed Mrs Jenkinson to attend Anne alone due to the discovery that one of their kitchen maids was in a delicate situation. Lady Catherine made arrangements for the maid and decided to oversee them herself. She told her daughter she would be away for two days. And when the physician came as he always did when the de Bourghs arrived in London, to Anne’s amazement, she felt better than she had done in a long time. Her headache had melted away. She no longer had that perpetual heavy cloud hanging over her that left her feeling exhausted.
But within two days, the illness and fatigue had returned, and she had been afflicted with it ever since. The cause of it was a mystery.
Lady Catherine’s lips tightened, but she did not explode.
“You do look ill. And that is precisely why I want you to walk with Fitzwilliam,” she said. “You need to marry before you have entirely lost what little bloom you have. I want a proposal from him before he leaves. It is high time you were married.”
For a moment, Anne’s heart lifted, but it plummeted again.
Foolish girl! Of course, her mother didn’t refer to that Fitzwilliam - the one she loved. The same one who sat beside Miss Bennet and chatted to her with animation, clearly drawn to her lively spirit.
No, she meant the other one. The cousin she was fond of but would not do for her as a husband. She just did not feel that way about Darcy, and it was no secret he did not feel it either. The thought of marrying him and having to see Richard and treat him as a cousin and perhaps watch him marry someone else was painful.
But of course, her mother’s will dominated.
“If you say so, Mother,” she said in a voice barely above a whisper.
Lady Catherine nodded with satisfaction. She marched away, every bit as strong and energetic as her young daughter was weak and tired.
Lady Catherine ordered a footman to summon Darcy. The footman returned after a while and confessed he could not find him, his eyes fixed to the rug as he confessed his failure. Lady Catherine berated his uselessness and rose from her chair. Did she have to do everything herself?
The Colonel was walking outside with Anne on his arm. Lady Catherine was oblivious to the rare colour in her daughter’s cheek, her attention only on her nephew.
“Richard, where is Fitzwilliam? I have been searching for him, and it is my particular wish he should come to me at once.”
“He is out, Aunt,” said the Colonel. “He said something about going for a walk. No doubt he will return in a few hours.”
Lady Catherine struggled to hide her frustration. If she knew her nephew, he would stay out as long as possible. He would probably spend several hours at the Lodge and only return in time to dress for dinner by which stage their guests would arrive, and there would be no time for him to walk with Anne.
It was not working. Her schemes to throw them together and make him remember what he owed his mother had little effect on him. Anne was too pale and colourless to attract a proposal from him on her own charms. Lady Catherine could not bear that Darcy would leave again and it would be yet another year before she had a chance to coax a proposal from him. Anne would be six and twenty by then, practically middle-aged. Lady Catherine would need to think of something else, and she would need to do it fast.
“Come, Anne. You are tired. You need to lie down.”
“Anne was just telling me how you wished her to walk with Darcy, Aunt.” The Colonel’s face was bland. “As one nephew is not here, I can make up the deficit. I will escort her around the grounds and return her to the house.”
Lady Catherine wavered. “Bring her back in time for her nap,” she snapped.
She strode back to the house, almost quivering with frustration.
What was Darcy about? He knew what he owed his family. She did not take his infatuation with the Bennet girl seriously, but it was possible it distracted him from his duty. And if he would not take his responsibilities seriously, Lady Catherine would have to force him to do it.
Lady Catherine threw herself back in her chair in an uncouth manner she would never display before other people. She chewed her nail as she wracked her brain for a plan that would require Darcy to marry her daughter. A good, old-fashioned compromise seemed the way to go.
But how? She could persuade Anne to visit Darcy’s room late at night and arrange for them to be discovered together. But that would harm Anne’s reputation, and hers by extension. People would smirk behind their gloved hands and know Anne had set out to trap Darcy. While marriage would redeem her, it would not entirely remove the stain. No, that would not do. Lady Catherine would not have it said that any woman of her family needed to resort to such tricks to catch a husband. It would need to happen in a way that would make Anne blameless.
But that would mean making Darcy look like the guilty culprit, and Lady Catherine could not see how that would work. Darcy would certainly not visit Anne’s rooms at night. He was never alone with her, and if they were in a room together, Darcy immediately bowed and left unless another person was present.
No, it would have to be done in a way that would leave both blameless and forced into a situation beyond their control. Lady Catherine drummed her fingers on the arm of her chair as she considered how she might do such a thing.
A memory came to her. There was a time when a wretched kitchen maid of hers in London allowed herself to get pregnant by a worthless cad who had filled the girl’s empty head with tales of marriage and wealth. And of course once had what he wanted, the man pretended not to know the little fool. Lady Catherine ordered him to marry the wretch, but he refused. He was not about to marry a kitchen maid when he fancied he had the chance to marry an heiress who would see him set for life. He denied knowing the girl and would not move from his story.
The problem had been solved when Lady Catherine recalled a man living in Kent who was skilled at persuading people to do his bidding. The persuasion involved fists and bruises, but it got results. Lady Catherine paid him handsomely to take care of the business, and the groom soon found himself standing at the altar, sporting a splendid black eye. It was a crude solution, but it was still a solution, and Lady Catherine had been proud of it.
She could not ask the man to force Darcy into marriage with fists and cudgels. She doubted he could get the better of him, anyway. Darcy was strong, and it was far more likely the man would be the one limping away from the encounter. But he might have a solution she had not considered.
No, she cou
ld not do this. Surely the situation was not so hopeless that it reduced her to hiring a thug to force a marriage? A lady of the noble houses of Fitzwilliam and de Bourgh, the daughter of an earl, no less, did not to stoop to such measures to get a daughter married. It was beneath her. Mamas up and down the country managed to get their daughters wed, and those girls were not as nearly well-bred and wealthy as Anne. Lady Catherine just needed to keep a clear head. Darcy was to spend several more weeks at Rosings. She still had time.
She drummed her fingers and looked towards the window, hoping to see the sight of Darcy coming home where he belonged. A small table stood in front of the window containing some paper and a pot of ink. Lady Catherine recalled Darcy had been sitting there writing a letter to Georgiana yesterday before she had ordered him to walk about the park with Anne.
She hurried over to it, relieved for once he was not there. Perhaps it might contain information she could use to persuade Darcy to stay longer at Rosings. Perhaps he might confide his intentions to his sister though Lady Catherine doubted he would leave such information lying about for anyone to see. But any information at all was better than what she had now.
Only the first page was complete. Lady Catherine knew Darcy wrote long letters to his sister and this one would not be complete until it contained at least five pages. She held it to the light to read. She had to stifle an outraged cry when she saw the information contained within.
“My dear Georgiana,
I write you a brief letter this time as I plan to be in London with you again within two or three days. Richard will come with me. He sends you his love, and he looks forward to seeing you.
I have little news to send you of Rosings. Miss Elizabeth Bennet and her friends have been to dine with us most evenings, and she delights us with her pianoforte playing. I have rarely heard anything that gave me more pleasure…”
Lady Catherine threw the letter down before she tore it in her rage. Two or three days! That left her with no time at all. If she wanted Darcy and Anne married, she needed to do something right away.
No matter how distasteful it might be.
Later that evening, Lady Catherine rode out in an old phaeton she had not used in some time. It was unlikely to be remembered as hers if anyone saw it. She had pulled her veil about her face in a manner which would attract no suspicion on the dry, dusty roads. Her destination was a small copse of trees about halfway between Rosings and Rochester. She jumped out of her phaeton. There was no sign of Steven.
She looked around in irritation when she jumped and barely suppressed a scream. Steven stood just behind her and grinned at her alarm. Lady Catherine pressed a hand to her racing heart and took a deep breath to calm herself.
“Do not do such a thing again,” she snapped.
“I beg Your Ladyship’s pardon,” he said with a mocking bow. “I was surprised to receive your note. What can I do for you? Another kitchen wench in the family way?”
“Not that.” Lady Catherine paused to look at him, taking in his short but broad body, his dull brown hair and eyes, and his flat face. Steven appeared as an ordinary farmer or labourer, someone who would not attract a second look from passers-by. Yet he had a coldness about him that unnerved her. She felt a sudden flash of rage at Darcy. Curse the stupid boy! If he had done his duty, she would not now be reduced to something as sordid as this.
But there was no point in turning back now. She told Steven what she wanted.
“It must look as though it was outside their control,” she warned.
Steven ran his hand along the phaeton. “So what is it you expect me to do? I’m assuming even you don’t want me to beat up your own nephew?”
Lady Catherine took offence at his tone, but this was not the time to argue with him about it.
“Darcy has taken to walking in the woods lately. I am informed he visits a pretty little clearing. Somewhere he never showed an interest in before, but perhaps he has developed a romantic nature. There is a small cottage there that will suit my purpose. I will arrange for my daughter to run into Darcy there. You will appear as if to rob them. Take a few trinkets from them - you will not need more, I will pay you well enough - and then lock them into the cottage together. After that, you can collect your payment and be as far away as you can.”
Steven kicked his feet against the wheel of the carriage, his face lost in thought.
“It is risky,” he said finally. “I am becoming known for my pursuits. If someone hears of it, it will be easy to link it back to me.”
“With the amount I pay you, it will be worth the risk. You can go anywhere you want and start over.”
They discussed payments. Steven’s grin was sly.
“Well, I suppose it won’t be the worst day’s work I’ve ever had. Well then, Your Ladyship. And when do you want this to happen?”
“Tomorrow evening. Darcy will not stay in Rosings much longer, and he is sure to walk in the woods tomorrow. Watch him until he is in the clearing. My daughter will be there, and that is when you can do your - do your work. But they must not be harmed. Do it right, and by the end of this week, you can live a comfortable life wherever you want.”
Steven agreed to the terms and Lady Catherine pushed a small sketch she had made outlining the clearing’s location into his hand. He watched as Lady Catherine climbed into her phaeton. He put a hand on her horse’s neck to prevent her moving and before she could berate him for his insolence, he grinned at her.
“You’re a ruthless one, aren’t you? I’m glad I’m in your pay and not on the receiving end of your tricks.”
Lady Catherine glowered at him. This man beat people for a living and yet he judged her — a respectable, Christian woman? The sooner this arrangement was finished, and she was done with him, the better. She clicked to her horse and drove away as his low laugh followed her on the night air.
Chapter 5
The day had not gone as Darcy had hoped. He sat across from Elizabeth in the drawing room, as usual, observing the sparkle in her eyes as she laughed with Richard. He had hoped by this time to be engaged to her. He would have been enduring the wrath of his aunt, but what did that matter if Elizabeth was to be his bride? He would have had the satisfaction of knowing that in a few short weeks, she would have been his. And now he still sat in a state of limbo because of that idiot clergyman who took it upon himself to intrude at the worst possible time. He sighed in frustration and shifted in his chair.
The movement attracted Elizabeth’s attention. She looked up with a smile.
“You seem out of sorts this evening, Mr Darcy. I have rarely seen you more unsettled.”
“You are right, Miss Bennet. My cousin does seem out of spirits, does he not? What is the matter, Darcy? Tired of Kent already?”
Darcy hesitated. “I had hoped to leave soon, yes.” If he had succeeded in his proposal to Elizabeth, he would now have been arranging to leave Kent for London before travelling into the dreadful Hertfordshire to obtain Mr Bennet’s blessing. He was tired of being at Rosings, of being forced to look at Elizabeth without having the right to hold her and speak with her in private. He would have no contentment until the matter was resolved.
Lady Catherine looked up sharply at his words. “You cannot leave already. I had decided you would finish out the month at least.”
“But that is not what I had decided, Aunt. I have been happy to be here and see you and Anne, but I have other matters I need to attend.”
“And what might those be?”
“Miss Bennet, won’t you delight us with another song? I remember you played a lovely tune one night when you stayed at Netherfield.”
Elizabeth looked surprised by his suggestion but not reluctant. She went to the pianoforte and began to play. To Darcy’s relief, Richard did not join her as he expected. He moved to the seat beside Anne to observe her sewing and spoke to her in a low voice. That left Elizabeth free.
But Darcy found he could not go to her. His heart was too full and his feelings too uns
ettled. His impatience to have the matter resolved was extreme. If he was near Elizabeth now, he did not trust himself not to take her in his arms and demand she marry him at once. While his aunt shrieked in outrage, Darcy would ignore her and everyone else in the room and beg Elizabeth to be his wife.
No, he did not trust himself to be near her. But he would find her tomorrow, and he would ask her to marry him as soon as he saw her. He could not wait any longer.
Darcy rose early. He hoped to leave for the woods at once and wait there for Elizabeth all day if necessary, but he had forgotten he was to visit Rochester with Richard. If he cried off, it would only arouse his cousin’s suspicions, and he wanted no one alerted to his plans until they were complete. It was with barely concealed poor grace he accompanied his cousin to town.
“What on earth is the matter with you, Darcy?” Richard asked. “Miss Bennet is right. You have been out of sorts. I trust nothing has occurred to trouble you?” Richard grabbed his cousin’s arm and forced him to look at him as an anxious thought struck him. “It is not Georgiana? He has not tried to interfere with her again?”
“What? No, of course not. He would not dare go near her again. No, you must forgive me, Richard. I am tired and preoccupied with business I must attend to. It is of no matter. Come, where is this fellow you wish to speak with?”
“Are you in such a hurry to return to Rosings then? Ah, I cannot blame you there,” said Richard as they walked down the street. “Not Rosings as such, but I should not object to an hour or two at Hunsford Lodge. Miss Bennet’s smiles are a welcome relief from our aunt’s society, are they not?”
Trapped at Rosings Page 3