Wild Goose Chase

by Sophie Lynbrook

  “Shall we?” Elizabeth asked.

  “If ye ask me, that’s the way to a mort o’ trouble,” the blacksmith contributed, “but each to his own. I won’t take it amiss.”

  Mr. Darcy quickly turned about, realizing what he had said. “I did not mean to be so presumptuous,” he said to Elizabeth, but she was smiling.

  “Nor so blunt,” he added. “It is my great hope that you will consent to be my wife, but I have been trying to think of a romantic way of asking you. I wanted to get it right.”

  “I will,” she said to his astonishment.

  “You will? Marry me, you mean?”

  “Yes, I will marry you.”

  “Oh, that is romantic,” Margery cried. “A proposal before the anvil. It is so unique!”

  “It is that,” Mr. Darcy agreed, feeling quite embarrassed now that he took in the crowd of smiling faces around them, but he graciously accepted the chorus of congratulations.

  “I thought you were perfectly matched,” Annabelle said, an opinion which was repeated by Margery and Clara, who had been peeking out from the back area. She and Edward now emerged to rejoin the others, although they continued to glance cautiously toward the entrance.

  “You did get it right,” Elizabeth whispered to Mr. Darcy as they stepped back to make way for one more ceremony. “It is not the proposal which matters. You got it right in everything you have said and done since we met again.”

  They fell quiet as the blacksmith proceeded with the task of uniting the final couple, which he did without showing any sign of surprise at having a middle-aged pair before him. Mr. Darcy wondered if this was tact or if experience had prepared him for anything.

  Just as they were pronounced man and wife, he heard the voice he had been expecting. The astonished query of “What are you doing here,” was presumably directed at his cousin, but a moment later Lady Catherine appeared in the doorway, and an angry, “I do not countenance this union,” rang through the forge.

  With his hammer in midair, the blacksmith stopped and looked up in surprise.

  “It is a bit too late,” George said.

  Margery giggled.

  “My aunt,” Mr. Darcy said apologetically.

  The blacksmith collected himself and brought his hammer down upon the anvil.

  “You cannot marry Miss Bennet,” Lady Catherine shouted at one nephew, pushing her way past the other, who had no power to send his aunt off. This incursion encouraged the other spectators who started inching closer.

  “Yes, I can,” Mr. Darcy cried, neglecting to address her misconceptions in favour of a strong desire to make his point. “I can do so this very minute,” he added rashly.

  “An excellent idea,” the blacksmith commented.

  “You are to marry Anne. It has been decided.”

  “Not by me. I am at liberty to marry whomever I choose, and that is Miss Bennet.”

  “She is beneath you,” his aunt protested. “She has tricked you into this. You have no idea what you are doing.”

  “I am marrying a lady whom I love and honour,” he said simply.

  “Sounds about right,” the blacksmith said. He began asking a question, but his voice was drowned out by Lady Catherine.

  “Have you lost all sense of what is owed to your family?”

  “Yes,” Mr. Darcy said nonchalantly.

  The blacksmith looked at Elizabeth. So did Lady Catherine.

  “And you, Miss Bennet,” she shouted. “This is no way to repay me for the attention I paid you. How dare you presume to attach yourself to my nephew.”

  “It is not a matter of daring or presumption,” Elizabeth replied calmly. “I love him. I will cherish him as a wife ought to do.”

  “Close enough for me,” the blacksmith said, without anybody noticing him.

  The spectator’s eyes were all fixed upon Lady Catherine, whose angry manner and violent tones commanded their attention.

  “His family will have nothing to do with you,” she decreed.

  “I will,” said the colonel, stepping into room.

  “Wasn’t asking you,” the blacksmith muttered.

  “Be quiet,” Lady Catherine commanded at the same moment. “Do you understand, Miss Bennet, that none of us will acknowledge you?”

  “I do.”

  “Do you care nothing for –”

  “Under the ancient rights and laws of Scotland, you are now man and wife,” the blacksmith pronounced, now raising his voice to vie with the competition.

  “What?” Mr. Darcy cried.

  “We are?” Elizabeth exclaimed.

  They whirled about to face him, but their only answer was the ringing of the hammer striking the anvil.

  CHAPTER 24

  “How can you have exposed yourself in this dreadful way,” Lady Catherine shouted at Mr. Darcy.

  “That is all your doing,” he said without feeling any great concern of his own. “Miss Bennet and I were never eloping. If you had not tried to interfere, we would not now be married.”

  “You cannot fool me. You were standing at the anvil.”

  “I was having a conversation with the blacksmith. About a shoe for one of the horses.”

  “Aye,” said the blacksmith helpfully. “We were talking of horses, and then he asked the young lady to marry him. I offered to do the job, but they wanted a church wedding. Then ye came along, and I lost my head in the heat of the moment.”

  “Quite understandable,” George said. “It was a very heated moment.”

  “Who are you?” She narrowed her gaze at him, but he calmly introduced himself in a tone which said that he did not put up with nonsense from people who thought themselves above him and his friends.

  Spurning his acquaintance, Lady Catherine said to her nephew, “Regardless of your intentions, this was not a proper marriage. You were tricked into it by the blacksmith.”

  “Tricked,” cried the offended blacksmith. “With my own ears, I heard the gentleman say he wanted to be married this very minute.”

  “He did say that,” Margery agreed. “I thought it was very romantic that Mr. Darcy could not wait to be united with Miss Elizabeth.”

  “Who is this person?” Lady Catherine cried haughtily. “I will not brook the interference of strangers.”

  “This is my wife,” George said, “and she is not a stranger to Mr. Darcy. Nor is she the one interfering. It strikes me that we have his best interests at heart, and you do not.”

  “I most certainly do. I am trying to save him from a union with a lady who is barely a lady.”

  “Miss Elizabeth is very ladylike,” Margery protested.

  “I doubt that you are a great judge of such things.”

  “Now that is going too far,” George shouted angrily. “For your information, my wife is undoubtedly a lady. Her background is impeccable. On her mother’s side, she can claim kinship with a duke.”

  “I am not in the habit of mentioning it,” Margery whispered modestly to Elizabeth.

  “And on her father’s side, she is descended from a respectable, honourable, and ancient, although untitled family. Furthermore, the fortune which she received from each side is splendid.”

  Lady Catherine almost looked impressed by this information, but she did not offer any apology. “It is Miss Bennet’s connections and fortune which are at issue here, and she has none. The inequality of a match between her and my nephew is astounding.”

  “I disagree,” Mr. Darcy said. “I am a gentleman, and she is the daughter of a gentleman. That is sufficient for me.”

  “She is a dear girl who will make him very happy,” Margery declared.

  “You know nothing of her connections,” Lady Catherine cried. “I am not ignorant of their condition.”

  “Then you should know that it is a perfectly respectable one,” Mr. Gardiner said indignantly.

  “Respectable?” she shouted. “This marriage will disgrace my nephew in the eyes of everybody. It will have to be annulled.”

  “It will
not,” Mr. Darcy responded. “I never meant to get married over the anvil, but I am not dissatisfied with the result of your interference. I do not think my marriage a disgrace, and I will not tolerate any talk of annulments. Or any further insult against my wife and her family.”

  “I am not done,” Lady Catherine said.

  “I am done listening.”

  “As we all are,” George said in support of him. “I have no wish to hear any more talk of inequalities. That is a particular sore point with me.”

  Margery linked her arm in his. “It is with me as well,” she said. “Your nephew has made his choice, and it is too late for you to object.”

  “I am not accustomed to accepting defeat.”

  “Nor I,” declared George. “Except for one notable occasion, unfortunately. But since then, all my endeavours have met with success, and my purpose today is to enjoy a celebration. I am determined that it will not be spoiled by the whims of an arrogant, inconsiderate, overbearing person such as yourself.”

  Lady Catherine gasped in horror.

  “I apologize for any offence to you,” he added, looking at Mr. Darcy.

  “None taken. I thought you put that very well.”

  “Are you finished at last?” Annabelle’s uncle asked, reappearing in the entrance to the forge.

  Then he spotted his niece. “I knew that you were hiding her,” he cried in outrage.

  He darted forward and grabbed Annabelle, who shrieked. Colonel Fitzwilliam grabbed him in turn, and Mr. Davenport held tightly onto her.

  “You are too late,” the blacksmith said.

  Emboldened by the actions of a comrade, the stepfather now appeared as well and saw his quarry. “You were here all along,” he shouted at Clara.

  He rushed toward her, but George and Margery were quicker. As they blocked his path, the blacksmith repeated his observation that it was too late.

  “You shall not take her,” Margery cried. “We will not let you.”

  “Nor will I,” Edward said, holding her closely. “She is my wife now, and I intend to care for her as you did not.”

  On the other side of the anvil, Mr. Davenport was making the same point clear to his wife’s uncle, while the colonel and Mr. Seton were attempting to pry his hands off the lady.

  Lady Catherine was brandishing her finger at Elizabeth and saying, “You will not realize your ambitions.” To Mr. Darcy’s satisfaction, his wife was capably standing her ground.

  At a side table, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner were occupied in signing their names on two documents. The blacksmith was waving two other soot-stained papers and crying, “Here are the certificates.”

  In the entrance, the blacksmith’s wife and the old man were watching the scene with evident enjoyment. So was the blacksmith’s boy from a corner of the room.

  Mr. Darcy stepped onto a nearby crate and shouted, “Silence!”

  This gained him the attention of everybody.

  “I count three objectors and twelve people who will stand firm in support of each other,” he pronounced. “I assume I can include you, Mr. Seton?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “You can count me in too,” said the blacksmith.

  “Three against thirteen,” said Mr. Darcy.

  “Fourteen,” said the wife, brandishing her broom.

  “Fifteen.” The old man struck the ground with his spade.

  The dog barked his agreement.

  “Sixteen,” said the boy in the corner.

  “Seventeen,” said a fresh voice. To his surprise, Mr. Darcy saw Georgiana at the door. “I am not entirely certain what I am supporting,” she added, “but I feel confident in taking my brother’s part in any dispute.”

  “I quite agree,” Mrs. Annesley said. “Make that eighteen.”

  “Six to one,” Colonel Fitzwilliam cried. “The odds are definitely in our favour. I would not hesitate to bet on it. Nice to see you, Georgiana,” he added to his cousin. “I suppose you came to warn Darcy about our aunt.”

  “No,” she said, “I came for another reason, but it can wait.” She nodded in deference to her brother. “Do continue.”

  “You will unhand Miss Annabelle,” he said to the uncle. “You and Miss Clara’s stepfather have no claims here. The ladies have set their vows, and those marriages will stand. If necessary their friends will protect them from your interference.”

  “Hear, hear,” cried Margery and George in unison.

  Mr. Darcy addressed his aunt next. “You will cease to insult my wife.”

  “Your wife?” Georgiana queried in a voice of astonishment.

  “Yes, Miss Bennet and I are married.”

  “Really?” Georgiana cried. “How exciting!” She and her new sister smiled at each other.

  “It happened by accident, but we both think it a very happy accident. At least, I hope you do,” he said to Elizabeth. “With all this commotion, I have not had a chance to ascertain your feelings.”

  “They are exactly the same as yours,” she confirmed.

  “It is our intention to enjoy a celebration now,” Mr. Darcy continued. “You three are not invited. If you would like to join each other in a commiseration, that is up to you, but I recommend that you vanish from our sight with all haste.”

  Colonel Fitzwilliam again assumed his menacing look. The blacksmith swung his hammer threateningly, and his boy picked up a horseshoe. The broom was waved, the spade was thrust upward, and the dog growled.

  The stepfather departed without further ado.

  “You will be hearing from my lawyers,” the uncle shouted at Mr. Davenport, but he also left.

  “He has no case,” Mr. Gardiner said reassuringly to Annabelle.

  “That just leaves you, aunt,” Mr. Darcy said.

  “I am determined in my resolution,” she said firmly. “I will not leave here until you promise to have this questionable and entirely unsuitable marriage annulled.”

  “I think it worth mentioning that there is a notable lack of accommodation in this village,” Mr. Seton said, “and it has all been spoken for.”

  “I am not accustomed to being denied. I will have a bed.”

  “It is likely to be on the floor in a common room,” he said. “You will find that the innkeeper is not the most accommodating person.”

  “And nothing will make me change my mind,” Mr. Darcy added. “You will be enduring discomfort for no purpose.”

  That threat appeared to take the wind out of his aunt’s sails. Instead of arguing, she stood in thought.

  “I recommend that you make a start upon your return journey,” Mr. Seton suggested. “Perhaps you would allow me to escort you to your carriage.”

  Lady Catherine hesitated, but the dog settled the matter by snapping at her heels. She took the offered arm and allowed herself to be led out, although she could not go without crying, “I take no leave of you, and I shall never acknowledge Miss Bennet.”

  “Mrs. Darcy,” the colonel, Georgiana, and Mr. Darcy all corrected at the same time.

  “Can we really be married when we had no idea what was going on?” Elizabeth asked the man who might be her husband as he stepped off his crate.

  “He did pronounce us man and wife. I think we must be, but we had better have a church ceremony as well for good measure.”

  “And to satisfy my mother. She would not like to miss out on a wedding.”

  Georgiana and Mrs. Annesley were introduced to the group, who made them very welcome.

  Meanwhile, Mr. Seton was politely handing Lady Catherine into her barouche. At that moment, another carriage went by. She did not take any notice of it, but the couple within stared at her.

  “That was Lady Catherine de Bourgh,” the lady said. “With a young man.”

  “One of her nephews, perhaps,” he suggested.

  “No, it was definitely not. I know all her nephews very well. That was somebody I did not recognize.”

  “How very interesting.” His wife knew everybody who was anybody. He turn
ed back for another look. “I do believe they came out of that forge.”

  “Oh,” the lady said with disappointment. “I suppose one of her horses lost a shoe and the gentleman was helping her.”

  “My dear,” he said gleefully, “this village is Gretna Green.”

  “Oh,” she said again, this time with her mouth and eyes open wide. “How very shocking.” She looked more excited than shocked however.

  “They do say there is there is no fool like an old fool,” he observed.

  “I cannot wait to get back to London and tell everybody that I saw them with my own eyes,” she said.

  He nodded. “It will be an excellent story to tell at Whites.”

  CHAPTER 25

  George handed the blacksmith another generous payment and invited him to join the celebration, as well as his wife, the boy, and the old man.

  “Indeed, the whole village is welcome,” George said. “The more the merrier.”

  Mr. Darcy smiled at the repetition of this phrase, which he was considering taking for his own model from time to time. Consistent with his nature, he was looking forward to quiet family moments, but he also had thoughts of enjoying a few more parties in the future.

  When Mr. Seton returned from escorting Lady Catherine, he was again put into service, this time to help with the organization of a feast.

  “I hope this irascible innkeeper of yours will not be too unaccommodating,” George said.

  Mr. Seton laughed. “To tell the truth, he is really a kind-hearted person, with a soft spot for newlyweds. You will find him eager to provide a feast.”

  “What about the accommodations?” Mr. Gardiner asked.

  “On that subject I was not exaggerating. There are very few rooms to be had, but we can find places for you. I have friends and family enough to see everybody settled for the night if you choose to stay that long.”

  “Oh, I think so,” George said. “I was not anticipating an early end to the festivities.”

  “We are in no hurry to return,” Mr. Darcy said.

  “Definitely not,” the colonel agreed.

  “It is a lucky thing my business was postponed,” Mr. Gardiner said. “I should hate to miss this party.”