Men of Consequence

by Francine Rainey

  Seriously, my friend, I have exciting news! John is courting! Her name is Miss Julia Sandford. She is a lovely woman from a neighboring county. I have met her and am certain she and John will soon be wed. And Maria, too, she has caught the interest of Miss Sandford’s cousin. Mama can barely contain her joy. My younger brother and sister will likely soon to be wed! I am happy for them as well, truly I am.

  “Oh, dear, Charlotte,” Elizabeth bit her lip and spoke into the empty room.

  Have you received a letter from your mother? If not, I have no doubt you will soon, for there has been another development. Your cousin, Mr. Collins, has returned! It was odd that he had to leave abruptly last Autumn to return to his patroness, but it seems that she has released him to return to Hertfordshire and to find a wife.

  “Oh, dear! Now, Mother will force me to return home to marry the nitwit.”

  I must tell you, Lizzy, that with you being absent, he has begun to spend much time with me. Oh, Lizzy, I know you thought him ridiculous and have told me quite forcefully of your lack of esteem for him, but I am twenty and eight. I do not desire to be a burden on my parents, nor a poor relation in the home of my brother or sister, depending upon them for charity as they build their families. And I most especially do not desire to go into service! Do you remember, Miss Grant? She became a governess when her father passed. I have heard that she has been importuned by the master of the house and had to flee to keep her virtue. She now lives off the charity of a cousin!

  Elizabeth blew out the breath she had held.

  Dear Lizzy, I know you think it a degradation to marry for any other reason than the deepest love, but tell me, is it less degrading to live off the charity of others? Or to go into service, never knowing what one might be forced to endure in the household of an unprincipled employer? No, I think it far more liberating to marry a respectable man and determine to care for him, to have one’s own home and one’s own little ones. Perhaps deep love is a fairy tale, an illusion. And if it does exist, who knows if one will ever find it, or if the one you love deeply will love you in return? Perhaps deep love is just the companionship that comes from deciding to care and be cared for by a respectable man.

  I ramble, but as you have made it clear that you will never have your cousin, should Mr. Collins, offer for me, I will accept – and I hope you will not despise me for my choice, for the alternative, Lizzy, is a long life of boredom and degradation. I cannot endure it.

  Your friend,

  Charlotte

  Elizabeth leaned back onto the wall of the window seat and closed her eyes, her breathing elevated. “Oh, Charlotte, you are not the only one who faces such a dilemma,” she said as she wiped tears from her eyes.

  “Colonel Saye, ma’am.”

  “Lovely, send him to the drawing, Bridget.”

  Elizabeth looked at Jane. “Are you ready, Lizzy?” Jane asked.

  Elizabeth took a deep breath and exhaled, “I am, Jane.”

  “Are you happy with your decision? Is it what you really want?” Jane asked, looking closely into Elizabeth’s eye.

  Elizabeth nodded, “Yes,” she smiled. Since the receipt of Charlotte’s letter, she had given much thought to what her sensible friend had to say. She did not agree with everything, but she could not deny that Charlotte’s perspective had challenged her as never before. It had helped Elizabeth to decide. “I am certain, Jane.”

  “Very well,” Jane tucked a curl behind Elizabeth’s ear. “Shall we?” Elizabeth nodded and followed Jane to the drawing room, each step connecting her to her future.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  “He has decided to settle in India,” Francesca looked up quickly. “He will go alone and will not return.” Francesca sagged in her chair and exhaled. I will have my boy.

  Francesca looked up at Matlock who sat behind his desk and Darcy who stood behind him. “Thank you. I will leave on the morrow.” Francesca smoothed her dress and prepared to rise.

  “One moment, Mrs. Waters, there is more, but first, I want to make it clear that what we have done, we have done for Alexander who is a Darcy and does not deserve to be abandoned to an uncertain future. Though your conduct has been appalling,” Francesca lowered her eyes, “Darcy is an honorable man, and for the sake of Alexander, he has offered a plan that would secure Alexander’s future and provide a place for you and Cassandra.” Francesca raised her eyes, wide now with surprise, and looked at Darcy who stood straight and stared at the wall behind her.

  Matlock explained the details of the agreement. Alexander would inherit Creston Hill when he reached his majority and part of the current profits would be made available to her now, for their care. “We have not yet seen the current ledgers, but we believe that with a trusted steward, that an allowance of approximately 400 pounds per annum would be plausible for you and your children.”

  Francesca gasped, her eyes wide and her hands to her mouth. Matlock nodded then leaned forward with his forearms resting on the desk. “There is more. A portion of Creston Hill’s profits were placed in trust until Hayden reached his majority. The funds were left to me to administer on behalf of either Hayden or Creston Hill, as I saw fit. I deemed it appropriate to release the funds to Hayden to begin his new life in India. He has declined and has requested that the funds be split between Alexander and Cassandra for their education and for Cassandra’s dowry. While you will have discretion over the yearly allowance, you will have none over the trust, that will be administered by myself and Darcy for the benefit of Alexander and Cassandra. The trust amounts to 18,000 pounds.”

  Francesca gripped the arms of her chair and tears ran down her cheeks. She opened her mouth but was unable to speak. Matlock nodded again and continued. “Do you have someplace where you hope to settle?”

  Francesca nodded and swallowed. “Newcastle,” she croaked. Darcy and Matlock turned surprised glances at her. “Why Newcastle?” Matlock asked.

  “Tis far away, far, far from society. No one will know of me there. Like Hayden, we can perhaps begin again,” Matlock looked at Darcy who nodded.

  “I will send a man to secure lodgings.” Matlock steepled his hands. “There will be much to accomplish. It seems prudent that you remain here until we leave for Bristol, then you can move into the cottage that Hayden now occupies. We will, of course, send a few servants to tend to your needs. In the meantime, we will have Hayden write a note, and we will send our housekeeper and a few footmen to fetch Cassandra and her nurse. When we have finalized the legal matters and secured lodgings in Newcastle, you will be on your way.”

  Francesca rose and curtsied deeply, “Thank you, Lord Matlock,” she glanced at Darcy, “and Mr. Darcy.” She left, and only then did she notice that her cheeks were damp with tears.

  Later that evening, Darcy stood again looking out into the night sky, his shoulders sagged in relief. I am coming home, my darling. This long nightmare is finally over. Darcy sighed. I am a changed man, my love. I will tell you everything, and then I will beg you to end my misery and allow me to love you for the rest of our lives.

  Elizabeth sat in her chambers. She had met with Saye, and it was done. She hoped she had made the right decision, for it would affect the remainder of her life. Elizabeth turned her head at the knock on the door.

  “Enter.”

  “A letter for you, ma’am.”

  “Thank you, Bridget.” As the door closed, Elizabeth examined the letter. “The Countess of Matlock!” Her brow furrowed, “Whatever can she want?” Elizabeth opened the missive with trembling fingers; her eyes anxiously scanning the page.

  Dear Miss Bennet,

  We have not been introduced; please forgive the impropriety of this letter. I write because there is a matter of great urgency and delicacy, and I have been asked to help ensure its resolution. I plead with you to read the second letter enclosed and know that what is written therein is true.

  Though you have no reason to trust the author of that missive, I pray you
would trust me and Mr. Darcy, who has also read and approved of the enclosed letter. I am Miss Georgiana’s aunt. I know you and she are great friends, and she may vouch for my integrity. I would never engage in a scheme against one of my family, and neither would I stand by and allow any one of them, or those they hold dear, to be distressed by lies, rumors, or innuendos. Accordingly, I have determined to correct the gross schemes and lies you have been subjected to in hopes that a new understanding can be had.

  Miss Bennet, I have heard such glowing reports by my nephew and son of your kindness, wit, and beauty that I feel confident that you will be able to recognize the sincerity of my actions and the truth written within the enclosed letter. Any questions you may have, I am certain will be made clear soon. I look forward to meeting you.

  God bless you,

  Lady Sarah Fitzwilliam

  Countess of Matlock

  Elizabeth fumbled with the pages as she reached quickly for the second letter.

  Dear Miss Bennet,

  I will not address you as ‘Elizabeth’ as you have so graciously allowed me to do in the past, that is the address of a friend, but as you have been a friend to me, after you have completed this letter, I have no doubt that you will no longer consider me as a friend to you.

  Elizabeth quickly scanned the bottom of the page for the identification of the writer and inhaled sharply. “Mrs. Waters, what have you done?” she whispered and dropped onto the window seat, a sense of foreboding causing her stomach to sink.

  I have participated in a despicable scheme to trick an honorable man into a course of action that would have taken away his choices and stolen his rights. I attempted to deceive him into taking responsibility for something that was not his doing to gain what I have long desired. It was selfish and unconscionable.

  I cannot be more explicit in this letter, though I would confess all if I were in person, just to purge my soul of this wretched guilt, and to make certain that the gentleman does not lose the one chance for happiness he has discovered. Now, back to what I must opaquely express. I can only say that I knew of one who is strikingly similar in appearance to our mutual gentleman friend, and I recklessly, and without the proper regard for life, delivered my scheme. While I cannot regret what was created; the motive was beyond despicable.

  Miss Bennet, in short, what you witnessed in the park was smoke and mirrors: theater at its crudest. The signet ring I had was an old one that had been presumed lost. I discovered it and used it without permission, knowing full well the lie that it implied. As you may have guessed, I wanted to eliminate you as a rival; it turns out that plan never, ever had a chance to succeed.

  You are a treasure of wit, beauty, and goodness. The gentleman also is all that is honorable; he is the best man I have ever known. I am heartily ashamed of what I have done and must live with my deceit. But the both of you should not. You both deserve only what is good, and I write this in hopes of helping you both to find it.

  I ask not for absolution, but for understanding, not for my sake, but for his.

  God bless,

  F. Waters

  P.S. Do not trust Miss Bingley. Though not privy to all the information, she willingly participated in the scheme.

  Elizabeth’s breath came in gasps as if her lungs were uncertain that they desired air. She sank on the floor, a flood of tears streaming down her cheeks.

  The sun crested over the horizon, casting a beautiful orange glow in the sky. Francesca stood at the window and watched as Darcy mounted his horse and spoke to the carriage driver. Darcy’s pent up energy was impossible to conceal. Francesca wanted to see him one last time. She had known he would leave today. He would wait until his duties were done, and then he would race back to the woman he seemed to breathe for.

  She had waited last night, concealed in the corridor, until he had exited the library. He had halted and tensed when he saw her, and she had quickly told him she only desired to thank him, to tell him he was still the best man she had ever known, and how very sorry she was for her actions. She also told him that she would raise Alexander to be honorable and Cassandra to be a lady. He had bowed slightly. When he turned to walk away, she had called quietly after him that Miss Bennet was a rare gem. She will be waiting for you Fitzwilliam. Darcy had halted. I witnessed her devastation during my despicable ruse in the park, and when she saw the signet ring. I am sorry that I caused her suffering, but great pain can only be experienced from great love – and great love endures despite obstacles. Darcy had stilled for a long while, then he turned to her again, gave her one last look, then he had bowed and left.

  Now she watched as his horse danced in place, seemingly as eager to run as the master. He would be well, and she was happy for him. She wiped the tears from her eyes. Love does endure despite the obstacles. She would know; she had loved him since she met him. She knew she would always love him, but she also knew she must move forward. She watched the sun burst brilliantly upon the horizon. Aye, she would be well, too.

  “A letter for Miss Bingley.” Caroline, Louisa, and Reginald Hurst glanced up at the footman.

  “I thought the post had already come?” Caroline said.

  “This was delivered by messenger, ma’am.”

  Caroline glanced at Louisa, took the letter from the tray, and waved the footman away.

  “Who is it from?” Louisa asked

  “Ugh! It is only from Jane,” Caroline tossed the letter down.

  “Will you not open it?” Louisa asked.

  “I will open it when I am ready. Jane probably cannot determine where to set the candelabra or the centerpiece for some dinner for her low-class friends. Besides, the gossip pages are far more interesting than any drivel that country nobody or her hoydenish sister will have to say.” Caroline waved her hand and returned to the paper.

  “Open it, Caroline,” Hurst demanded. “Perhaps they are requesting your return home… and out of my house,” he said the last bit beneath his breath.

  “I shall return sometime. Mr. Darcy has not yet returned to town; I have a little more time before I have to subject myself to social-climbing Jane and her impertinent sister.” Hurst and Louisa exchanged glances, then Hurst snatched the letter from the table.

  “How dare you! Return my letter at once, Reginald!”

  “I dare because this is my home, and you have caused enough havoc in it. I desire to see if this is a summons back to Bingley’s, and I mean to ensure that you do not ignore it and that your trunk is prepared post haste. Now, open the letter, or I shall have Louisa open it for you.”

  Caroline’s eyes narrowed, “You would not dare.”

  “I would dare,” Hurst matched her expression and the two engaged in a battle for supremacy. Hurst pulled his eyes from Caroline’s first, and Caroline smiled smugly. Presuming victory, she lifted her hand to receive her letter back as a trophy. Reginald handed the letter to Louisa.

  Caroline screeched and stood up, “How dare you! Have you lost your mind?

  Louisa looked at Caroline whose eyes warned her not to open the letter. She glanced at her husband, who stood akimbo, then she sighed and broke the seal.

  “You are mad! Both of you!”

  “Shut up, Caroline!” Reginald barked and then turned to Louisa, “What does it say?”

  “Jane says the enclosed letter came as an express, and she wanted Caroline to have it as soon as possible.”

  Reginald huffed, “So, it is not a summons to Bingley’s home.”

  Louisa looked up quickly, “Caroline, I think you had better open this immediately!”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Caroline gasped, and her eyes opened wide. “It is the Matlock seal,” she said in a hushed, reverential voice. “It must be from Lady Matlock! Louisa!” Caroline flung herself in her sister’s arms, her pique vanquished by joy and anticipation. “You know what this must mean!” she said as she removed herself from her sister’s arm and looked at the letter in awe. “Mr. Darcy
must have made his intentions known to his aunt, and she is writing to become better acquainted with me!” Caroline screeched like a coyote; all her ladylike airs evaporated.

  “Sister! Pipe down and open the letter!” Louisa said. Reginald shook his head and returned to his seat.

  “I am just so happy, Louisa! I have waited for this moment for so long.” Caroline suddenly gasped and frowned, “You!” she pointed to Reginald, “you said I was mad to believe that Darcy would offer for me, but who is mad now?” Caroline raised her chin. “When I am Mrs. Darcy, you shall have to beg for an invitation to Pemberley, and I will only grant it if you can amuse me; however, seeing how that is impossible, you shall never be invited,” Caroline smirked.

  “Stop this at once, Caroline! Open the letter!” Louisa said.

  Caroline huffed and raised her chin. “Very well. I shall open it and read it aloud if only to see your faces when you realize how wrong you have been.” Caroline sat and feigned calmness, but her trembling fingers betrayed her. She opened the letter, and then her placid expression quickly morphed into a deep, unattractive frown.

  “What is it?” Louisa asked, and Reginald looked up.

  “It is from Mrs. Waters,” Caroline said her voice trailing off as she perused the letter.

  “Who is Mrs. Waters?” Louisa asked, but Caroline did not hear.

  Suddenly, Caroline gasped. “It cannot be!” She quickly separated the pages to locate the letter from Lady Matlock. While she did so, Louisa, with Hurst over her shoulder, read the discarded letter from Mrs. Waters.