The problem with secrets is that it can easily lead to misunderstandings.
XOXOXO Elizabeth Ann West
Chapter 28 - By Consequence of Marriage, a Pride and Prejudice Variation
On his fourth day in London, a foggy morning reminded Charles Bingley why he dreamed of owning his own estate. As he strolled the three blocks from his usual rented rooms to the town home of his dearest friend, the dreary yellow haze of London’s sky held no power to diminish his happiness. Walking with a jaunt appropriate for a man in love, he breathed into his chilled hands, despite the leather gloves he wore, and waited for a servant to usher him inside.
Turning to the utter lack of activity on the street behind him, the well-to-do families of Mayfair all gone to their country homes, Bingley noted the inordinate amount of time passing before his knock was acknowledged. It was not uncommon for the knocker to be missing when Darcy was home, so Bingley made a fist and pounded a few times. The door was opened by Mrs. Potter, who recognized the affable young man from his many visits.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Bingley, but my master is not in. Perhaps you’d care to leave your card?”
“I would wait for him, is he due back soon?”
“I’m afraid I do not know, sir. My instructions are to deny entry to all guests. I hope you understand.” The older woman held kindness in her eyes, wishing she might inform this friend of the burdens her master carried in hopes of sending him support.
Taken aback, Mr. Bingley nodded. “Of course Mrs. Potter, I understand your position.”
To fulfill society’s obligations, Charles Bingley dutifully removed his card from the holder in his top breast pocket. Handing over the paper with a fine linen finish, he chuckled. Indeed many years passed since he’d last maneuvered through such formalities to visit his friend Darcy. “Do tell him I shall be at the club if he returns.”
“I most happily shall, sir,” Mrs. Potter said and closed the door.
The abrupt treatment was so foreign to Bingley that he stood there for a moment mesmerized and astounded by the Darcy House staff. Shrugging his shoulders, he turned up his coat’s collar against the chill and questioned his wisdom at forgoing his carriage this morning. He counted on the warmth and hospitality of Darcy, finding the tip of his nose completely cold by the time he reached the club.
Inside his club, Darcy ran his finger around the rim of the disgusting, sugary drink Lord Derby was so particularly fond of drinking. To work on a man, you must know his drink, and to know his drink meant you must show equal appreciation for said selection as an acknowledgment of good taste. Unfortunately, good taste or no, the Earl of Derby was in no mood to budge on his decision. Darcy was stuck drinking the dark, spiced rum for no gain.
“You are a man of tradition, your lordship. I am astounded years of our mutual satisfaction is to go by the wayside over an impetuous decision by a young girl.”
“What you declare were merely the actions of a young girl I take as an indication of the dereliction of duty by her guardian. How am I to be assured your crop yields will not suffer under your direction? Your livestock will produce the same amount of wool as they did under your father’s leadership?” The earl chuckled at the younger Darcy, enjoying his position of power over the heir to the largest non-royal land holdings in their shared county. For years, John Thomas Stanley merely tolerated the business he was forced to endure with George Darcy. The Darcy family, with their French origins, was never politically savvy enough to hold a title for long. How they increased their land holdings was a mystery to the earl.
“For three years you have voiced no concerns, my lord. I wonder at your mysterious change of conscience. Tell me, does this Carmichael hold debts against you?” Darcy asked with complete seriousness, in a low tone.
“Certainly not! You should take care, sir, when you are speaking to a peer!”
Darcy pursed his lips and almost took another sip of his drink before remembering the contents of the glass and returned it to the small side table between them. “No, I should say not. I believe one would call your transaction a bribe, seeing as his wife is your mistress.”
The Earl of Derby stood and scowled at the well-informed younger man. “You accuse in the wrong direction, sir. I scorn your family because my plans were to marry my son to your sister and unite the county under one name. A strong name. The Stanley name. But your ineptitude in protecting your sister’s virtue shall cost you dearly. I take no leave of you.” The Earl of Derby began to walk away.
Darcy bit his tongue to keep his counsel. He would never have allowed Georgiana to marry the degenerate Edward Stanley, fashioned as Lord Strange. He did not wish to alert others in the room of his sister’s marriage. Absent-mindedly, he reached for his glass and took a swig, only to spit it back into the glass as Charles Bingley arrived and took the vacant seat.
“Darcy, old man, fancy finding you in your cups at this hour of the morning!” Bingley motioned for new drinks from the male servant on the far end of the room.
“ Mmmm.” Distracted, Darcy offered a noncommittal reply.
As the drinks arrived, Darcy happily traded his rum for a glass of scotch. Still not fostering the conversation, Darcy drank while Bingley chattered on.
“. . . And I’ve just come from your house to discuss the happy news!” Bingley beamed as he lifted his drink in a toast-like fashion.
The earlier words Darcy had lost in a haze, but the last bit he caught. “Happy news, indeed.” Darcy scoffed, confused as to how the wedding that was supposed to be kept a secret was known to his oldest friend. Perhaps his aunt had invited him . . . but no, the Matlocks were barely civil to the Bingleys when they dined at Darcy House. Aunt Maggie would never invite Charles or his sisters to such an intimate family affair.
“I thought you might be slightly happier than that, old chap. It IS a wedding, after all.” Bingley smiled at his friend with eagerness. Ordinarily, Bingley’s cheer was a balm to Darcy’s sourness, but not today.
“I’ll be there with bells on, Bingley, to play my part. But I cannot promise to match your enthusiasm.”
Bingley laughed, of course his friend could not match his enthusiasm, he wouldn’t be the groom! “Now, I am aware you disdain public displays, but it will mean a great deal that you are a part of that special day.”
Confused, Darcy wondered how Bingley obtained knowledge of Georgiana’s wedding. This was bizarre! Deciding to test the man, Darcy asked his question with a surly tone. “And pray, which day is the special day?”
“Why November the Thirteenth, in the year of our Lord, eighteen hundred eleven, and a glorious day at that!”
Impressed, Darcy raised a glass. “To November Thirteenth and our mutual misery.”
Bingley laughed again, this time halfheartedly, at the tease by Darcy. He was about to continue their visit when he realized the time. “Oh dash it, I must go, errands to run, supplies to collect for the ball. Caroline’s been a right mean taskmaster!” Darcy nodded, still not fully attending to his friend.
Bingley rushed off worried he might miss the appointment with his solicitor, an appointment he dare not miss. Once warm in his own carriage, having the sense to call for it at last, Charles Bingley remembered he meant to ask after Darcy’s sister.
Darcy closed his eyes and continued to enjoy the relative quiet of the club. Without a vessel to ship Pemberley’s wool, and other goods, his tenants would receive only a pittance of what they might fetch from overseas markets. What with the war on and off and on again, shipping anything from the island nation was an impossible ordeal, a puzzle Darcy might not be able to solve.
His mind wandered to the carefree lifestyle of his friend Charles. Darcy remembered spotting an invitation letter in Caroline’s unique hand, but he had cast it to the rarely perused social gatherings pile of correspondence. He would not attend, but his imagination wondered what might happen if he were able to accept.
He’d ask for no less than two sets with the bewitching Elizabeth Bennet. The very idea of his hand clasping hers sent his heartbeat wildly pounding. He opened his eyes with a start and sat up rigid in his chair. Self-consciously, he glanced about to see if any other patrons had been disturbed by his daydream, but none seemed to pay him any mind. Worried he might cause a further scene, Darcy asked for his effects and prepared to leave.
Chapter 29 - By Consequence of Marriage, a Pride and Prejudice Variation
Lady Catherine did not await the fashionable hour to barge in on her brother and his wife at Matlock House. The butler had offered to take the lady’s shawl when the earl and countess of Matlock exited the breakfast parlor with stunned looks upon their faces.
Henry Fitzwilliam recognized the shouts and caterwauling of his oldest sister just before they arrived in the entryway. To witness his sister leave her pretended throne at Rosings was a remarkable sight to behold. He struggled to maintain an indifferent attitude as he diplomatically inquired to the good fortune of this unannounced visit.
“You know very well why I am here!” Lady Catherine banged her walking stick on the floor, staring down the two members of her generation. “I am made privy of reports, yes reports, of the most curious nature regarding our nephew, Fitzwilliam. I am here for your corroboration of these reports, and I shall not leave until I am satisfied.”
“Catty,” the Earl of Matlock attempted to mollify his sister with the childhood pet name he used before he was able say the name Catherine properly, “I have not seen Fitzwilliam in over three months . . .” He glanced to his wife pretending to be mildly amused and relaxed.
“He is here, in London and has been here for a number of weeks. Do not pretend you have not seen him. We employ the same spies, Margaret.”
The time was long past when a direct confrontation with Catherine caused Lady Matlock to pale with trepidation. She was ten years junior to the old earl’s favorite daughter, but Margaret Fitzwilliam held not an ounce of fear as her voice rang loud and clear. “I’m afraid you are mistaken, Catherine. I suffer no need to employ spies against my nephew, for my relationship with him yields me all the intelligence I require.” Lady Matlock smiled at Lady Catherine who did not return the courtesy, neither did the older lady begin another tirade. Just as it appeared the cajoling countess had persuaded Lady Catherine of their ignorance, another exited the breakfast parlor. He was a tall, lanky fellow, with more charm than sense.
“Wickham! George Wickham! Why is a scoundrel such as yourself admitted entrance to Matlock House?” Lady Catherine bellowed, renewed in her investigative efforts.
George Wickham slithered behind the couple hosting him until his wedding vows were made and approached the singular Darcy relative who always saw through his schemes. With the flashy smile he reserved for his most wealthy marks, he bowed with a flourish before her and reached for her hand to kiss in greeting. Lady Catherine pulled her hand back in aggravation and spat at the offensive gesture. The defiled man took a handkerchief from his pocket—the pocket of his new clothes so generously furnished by his future relatives so that he may look the part he was to play—and wiped his cheek that still showed signs of bruising from his earlier rounds of understanding with the Colonel and his brother.
“Now is that any way to treat your future nephew?”
As Lady Catherine’s face flushed and she alternated between glaring at George Wickham and then darting fleeting glances at the shamefaced Fitzwilliams, it took a moment before she managed to regain her senses. “What lies have you told to entrap my niece? I assure you, I have the means to pay. Tell me your price, and you will go away never to darken our door again.”
“Catherine, it’s beyond that now,” the earl growled with chagrin.
“How can he possibly be beyond money? Everyone has their price. Everyone!”
“Perhaps it would be best for your brother to take you into the study for this discussion.” Lady Matlock motioned for the burly footman Seamus to walk forward. “Mr. Wickham, I believe you were just going to your rooms, were you not?”
George Wickham winked at Lady Catherine causing the old lady to scowl further. Raising his hands in mock surrender, he turned on his heel and marched up the stairs with Seamus the footman following close behind. As a man who’d actually seen the inside of a gaol, captivity at Matlock House was certainly no inconvenience.
As the earl steered his sister to his private study, he was not surprised to see Catherine take her preferred seat in the chair next to the old earl’s desk. To the two of them, it was fondly thought of as Papa’s desk.
“May I offer you refreshments?”
“Don’t patronize me, Henry! Start with the most pertinent information I must know.”
The earl raked his hand through his thinning hair in exasperation. The wedding next week would not come fast enough for his taste. But there were protocols, and for the ruse to work, the marriage had to be above reproach.
“It began this past summer when my son and our nephew sent our fifteen-year-old niece to Ramsgate with nary more than a companion who worked deception on all involved. The woman had impeccable references, too impeccable in hindsight, and the boys believed the trip would help Georgiana lose some of her shyness.”
“Why ever did they send her with such little protection? No young woman should be without the protection of a family member! If they tired of her care so much, they might have sent her to me!”
The earl held up his hand to stay his sisters vitriol. “Margaret and I were not made aware of the arrangements until after she was gone. Then, it turns out the companion was an accessory to Wickham’s crime, convincing Georgiana this whole time how little her family cared for her and encouraging the attentions of Wickham. Before long, our niece had convinced herself she was in love with that cad.”
Lady Catherine touched her hand to her forehead and closed her eyes. “I was such a fool to allow that child to be sent to the steward of Pemberley and his wife… Stupid, stupid, stupid!”
“Catty, none of us wanted you burdened with Sir Lewis’ bastard. It’s one thing for a man to have his dalliances, but for him to propose that you take the child in? Well it’s just not done!”
“I believe I’ll have that drink now,” Lady Catherine commanded, relinquishing the emotion of regret as quickly as it came upon her.
Within the half-hour, Catherine and Henry had worked out additional plans to protect the family’s interests. Lord Matlock called his wife in to seal their decisions with her approval, and it did not take much convincing. The siblings thought they were the only ones to know of George Wickham’s true parentage, but Lady Matlock was under no delusions that George Wickham was the natural child of Thomas Wickham and his shrew of a wife, Regina. The fact that the man bore no resemblance to either of his parents was merely affirmation for her suspicions. Still, Margaret Fitzwilliam knew the more secrets one held, the stronger the position one held over her enemies.
Therefore, it was with a smile, a nod, and very few questions that Margaret Fitzwilliam agreed the best course of action was to encourage Darcy to marry his cousin Anne de Bourgh with little delay. For the sake of the family, of course.
NEW RELEASE
For the Love of a Bennet
What if Elizabeth Bennet traveled with Lydia to Brighton?
A reimagining of Jane Austen’s most beloved tale, Pride & Prejudice, join author Elizabeth Ann West as she writes the romantic adventure story she always wanted! When Lizzy and Lydia arrive in Brighton, it’s very clear that the younger Bennet sister came with very serious plans towards Mr. Wickham. Thankfully, an old ally is also in town, with problems of his own to solve. After Mr. Darcy, himself, is summoned to Brighton to hopefully solve two dilemmas with one wealthy member of the gentry, the whole militia is thrown into an uproar by Wickham’s most dastardly deed, yet. Together, Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy have to save Lydia from her own undoing, or it will mean more than just mere reputations are ruined.
For the Love of a Bennet is a novel length story, currently being posted chapter by chapter on Elizabeth’s author site. This story was originally conceptualized in 2019 as a part of the All Go to Brighton challenge.
Chapter 30 - By Consequence of Marriage, a Pride and Prejudice Variation
After leaving his club, the last place Darcy wished to return was home. He momentarily forgot his aunt and George Wickham planned to lunch at Darcy House and was in no mood to play the dutiful nephew. It seemed ironic it was only after Georgiana was engaged to be married she was experiencing any level of chaperoning during her time with the bounder. With Lady Matlock present, Darcy’s presence was superfluous.
Directing his driver to head to the shops beyond Bond Street, Darcy began to anticipate searching out new books and folios for his library in what was largely considered the tradesmen area of town. While others of his acquaintance would die of shame to be seen frequenting the shops in this less fashionable area of town, Darcy learned through his experiences with Bingley the shop proprietors and tradesmen of the upper earnings level kept the most interesting variety of goods for their own community. Darcy had found no less than half a dozen of rare first edition volumes of many of his favorite authors, including the Lake District poets.
As his carriage stopped in front of one of his favorite bookshops, another store caught his eye just two doors down. The wooden sign over the faded royal blue door was the shape of a lady’s hat. Feeling guilty about not wishing to spend time with Georgiana, Darcy ducked inside to shop for a wedding gift for his sister.
The shop was unlike theå places he was accustomed to visiting in Mayfair, and from the shabby decor he doubted his sister would step foot in such an establishment. The wares, however, were another matter. From years of dressing Georgiana, Darcy immediately recognized the fine quality of the few pre-made items displayed for purchase. He admired a set of rich bordeaux gloves trimmed in what appeared to be fox fur when a familiar voice rang out.
“The blush color does not compliment the complexion. Might we be shown fabric in a robin’s blue?”
The voice reminded him of Elizabeth Bennet and for a moment Darcy held his breath. Had his passions for the woman he nearly killed run so mad he was now hearing delusions of her presence? He directed his mind to consider the lavender hat with large plumage on one side and push thoughts of the finest pair of eyes he ever beheld out of his mind.
An assistant scurried from behind the screen and bumped into Darcy as she carried a billowing bolt of the offending blush fabric.
“Pardon me, sir.”
Darcy nodded and moved further away from the screened area of the shop. He now considered the row of cashmere shawls, so soft, they were of much higher quality than he found at his aunt’s modiste in Mayfair. Being a businessman, he smiled, wondering when the Bon Ton would realize connections were key to obtaining the nicest quality, not location. He couldn’t help but overhear the poor assistant explain the problem to a woman who appeared to own the shop.
“The bride don’t like it ma’am. She asks for light blue, perhaps I should fetch the bolts of that lovely shade of sky?”
The prim proprietress raised her spectacles to inspect the blush fabric. She clucked her tongue and gazed at the assistant. “You did well, Millie, good girl starting with the most expensive fabrics. Run along now to the back room and see if you can find that new blue that just arrived from Mr. Pinkerton. I’ll amuse the ladies from Hertfordshire myself.” The proprietor patted the assistant on the shoulder as she carried the blush fabric with both arms outstretched to the backroom. Acknowledging Mr. Darcy, the owner quickly stared him up and down and deemed him a worthy customer.
“How may I help you today, sir? You are shopping for your . . .” she trailed off, learning long ago to never assume the recipient of a man’s favor.
Darcy coughed, trying to find his voice. It was no coincidence, the ladies being from Hertfordshire, the discussion of a bride. It was Elizabeth’s voice he heard earlier and she was to marry another! Darcy’s mouth opened and closed a few times, annoying the proprietress as she awaited his response.
“I see that you are busy, I shall come back another time,” he replied quietly. He reached behind him for the doorknob, backing away from the owner.
The owner shrugged her shoulders and dismissed the mysterious man. Honestly a man shopping for ladies wares was her least favorite customer because he rarely knew the items that would most please his lady and always wished to part with the least money. She picked up a fresh bowl of chocolates to take around the screen to her bridal party.
Mrs. Carlton, the owner of Carlton’s Linens had known the Gardiners for many years. Edward Gardiner was a most trusted supplier of notions and lace. But that Madeleine Gardiner, she had a sharp eye for style. There would be no padding of the draper’s bill with this foursome, though she could not complain about the size of the order.
Utterly demoralized, Darcy began walking, aimlessly, trying to work out all that he had heard. He remembered quite clearly the day he met Miss Elizabeth Bennet, nearly running her over with his horse. The tender moment where he brushed leaves and dirt from her injured forehead, his chest filling with hope when her pretty brown eyes fluttered open, but he also recalled that she had said a name. John. Whoever this mysterious John was to her, he must hold a place in her heart for them to be engaged and already with a wedding date.
Darcy expected his friend Charles would capitalize on the sweet nature of Miss Bennet, why he even went so far as to encourage Charles directly before he took his leave of Netherfield. Whatever happened in the last three months he had quit the county, it was not for him to know. At least not until after Georgiana was wed and out of his concern. Thinking on her groom, he would never rest easy in regard to his own sister’s safety.
The call of his name jerked Darcy’s head up. He hid his embarrassment at his own driver reminding him of his carriage being present. Storming into the carriage, Darcy scowled as he was sure he must look the rich fool, walking along the street as his carriage slowed beside him. Lowering the shades of the window closest to him, the great master of Carver House, Pemberley and Darcy House, closed his eyes and for one of the few times in his life since his parents died, wondered if his life would ever be his own to lead.
The adage goes, be careful what one wishes for, it may indeed come to be. An exhausted, weary Darcy trudged up the steps to his own town home, his feet growing heavier with each step. He had thought losing Georgiana would be the lowest point of his life, but the overwhelming emotions seizing his heart put his previous distress to shame.
In his mind, he had always counted that somehow he’d return to Hertfordshire and offer for his Elizabeth’s hand in marriage. Thoroughly irritated that his familial obligations had prevented him from doing so a month ago, Darcy was aghast at the chorus of voices coming from the dining room. Groaning, he not only recognized Wickham’s and his aunt’s, but also his uncle’s and . . . Lady Catherine’s?
Closing his eyes, he held up a finger to signal Mrs. Potter to secrecy regarding his arrival. The practiced housekeeper grinned at her master and nodded. Darcy walked up the half flight of stairs to the main floor as quietly as possible. He was nearly to his study when his least favorite aunt shouted out.
“There is no need to sneak around your own house, Fitzwilliam. We are aware of your arrival, we heard your carriage coming up the drive.”
Darcy’s shoulders tensed as he grew agitated. Not only was he caught, but was now being ordered around in his own home. He was not able to battle politely with his relatives, and he was quite certain this interview would become disastrous. Yet, never a man to shirk his responsibilities, Darcy turned and went to the dining room.
“Aunt, Uncle, Aunt, I had no advance notice you were to descend upon Darcy House for lunch this afternoon. Had I been made aware of your plans, I should have been here to welcome you when you arrived.” He stood at the head of the table to maintain control in his own home.
“Don’t pretend this to be a social call, Fitzwilliam. I cannot fathom how you and Richard thought you would handle this nasty business on your own, but it is high time we put an end to this nonsense, once and for all!” Lady Catherine sniped.
“As you may know, Lady Catherine, Georgiana and Mr. Wickham are to be married, next week, as a matter of fact. I am sure you were invited?” Darcy glanced to his Aunt Maggie for support, and the Countess of Matlock gently shook her head negatively. “Ah, I apologize. I can only offer that the omission of an invitation was not in any way an intended snub of your role as our mother’s sister, and merely a means to diminish the event itself.”
“Diminish the event? Do you mean to say the whole of my family is against my marriage?” Georgiana Darcy asked, with the naïveté of a child.
Lady Matlock patted her niece’s hand as she was strategically seated next to the young woman. “Of course not, we are happy you have settled your match, Georgiana. The delicate nature of society’s sensibilities, well, they require a certain gentleness regarding your ceremony. After all, how many young women of your status are permitted to marry for love? No, no, if we were to publicly announce your wedding, just think of the repercussions it would cause for other families who are unable to afford such a noble match.”
This explanation satisfied Georgiana, who happily resumed smiling and gazing at her dear, precious George sitting across the table. George Wickham did not return the looks of flirtation, and instead sat morbidly interested in his glass of wine.
“Perhaps it would be best if we retire to Darcy’s study for further discussions, and allow the young couple an opportunity for some time in the music room? With the maid present and the door open, of course,” the Earl of Matlock suggested.
Darcy and Lady Catherine stared at one another and it was Lady Catherine who moved first to approach her nephew standing in the doorway. Darcy had half a mind to stand steady in the lady’s path, but thought better of such an affront and stepped back with his left foot to turn his body to the side, allowing her to pass. The grand woman was of no little status in power, wealth, or girth. If Darcy was not so agitated, he might find the irony in allowing Lady Catherine to think herself in charge of the family despite the unhappy circumstance of being the old earl’s eldest child and a woman. However, she pushed Darcy too far when she entered the study and took a seat in the master’s chair behind the desk.
“Aunt, I believe you have taken my seat.”
“Nonsense, Fitzwilliam. Sit over there.” She said, waving her arm dismissively.
“No madame, this is my study and that is my chair. All persons with business to discuss with the master of Carver House, Pemberley and Darcy House sit on the other side of that desk. I am happy to ask a footman to make an adjustment.”
“You wouldn’t dare!”
Darcy’s other aunt and uncle entered the study to see the test of wills already in progress. Ready and reeling for a fight, Darcy placed both hands on the corners of his father’s desk and leaned forward to be nose to nose with his aunt. “After the day I have had, you do not wish to test me. This is my home you have entered and you will abide by my rules.”
“Catty! Give the boy the chair! You won’t win any battles setting him against you.” The Earl of Matlock escorted his wife to the sofa, but remained standing until his sister would vacate the seat.
“Well, I never have experienced such rudeness to one’s elders. You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Fitzwilliam. If you were not so very tall, I’d bend you over this knee in an instant.” Lady Catherine shuffled out of the chair and walked around the desk, but paused to motion with her finger for her brother, the earl, to move Richard’s favorite armchair by the fireplace closer to the desk. The Earl complied, and Darcy took his regular seat.
As Darcy motioned for the footman to leave them and close the door, he clasped his hands in front of him and placed them on the desk in the signal that this interview was no different than any of the other dozen or so business meetings he held in a week’s time.
“There are many other demands on my schedule today. I would appreciate if you would get straight to the point for this assault on Darcy House.”
“Assault? Nephew, you do exaggerate. Why cannot uncles and aunts come to dine with their relatives?” Lady Matlock attempted to improve the atmosphere of the room.
“I cannot recall any such occasion in which the three of you deigned to visit my home all at once since my father died. So I ask again, what is the matter at hand?”
“The matter at hand is your willful defiance and procrastination on marrying my daughter!” Lady Catherine shouted as the Earl and Countess both cringed. Leave it to Catherine de Bourgh to be the bull entering a china shop.
“My sentiments on that matter are particularly clear, Lady Catherine. I hold no designs to marry my cousin and no amount of bullying shall change my position.” The earl cleared his throat, making Darcy adjust his attentions. “Oh no, not you too, Uncle. You and I both know she is unsuitable. Her illnesses are much too severe for anyone to expect her to carry an heir.”
“There is history, Darcy. History that you were never made aware of and in light of Georgiana’s new alliance, we beseech you to consider this new information before declining your cousin’s hand. That’s all we ask son.”
Darcy gazed earnestly at his uncle, searching for some sign of trickery, but there was genuine shame written in the lines of his frown. “I shall listen. But I tell you now, I cannot fathom a scenario that would encourage me to take her hand in marriage.” Darcy held up his hands as a gesture of exasperation and leaned back in his chair as his aunt and uncle began to relate he history of a child who grew up to be George Wickham.
Darcy listened in utter disbelief. All this time that they grew up as lads, Wickham was actually his cousin by his Uncle Lewis with a mistress! Now it all made sense. He never understood why his father would pay to school a lowly steward’s son; it was not unheard of to pay for lessons in a trade or vocation, but not to send him to the schools of the upper elite! Darcy’s mind raced as memories flashed with a new perspective. The potential ramifications and logical conclusion of this matter came to him before his uncle had to say the words.
“So you see, with Anne battling pneumonia as we speak, if she dies without marrying, that man out there may lay a claim to Rosings.”
“The bastard child of that wench will never inherit that estate while I still live and breathe!” Lady Catherine exclaimed.
Darcy placed his two index fingers and thumbs in a church and steeple configuration and held them to his mouth as he thought through the multitude of consequences of this decision. His family was asking him to perform the most egregious mercenary act of marrying a dying woman, merely to deny a bastard child potentially his rightful inheritance.
On the surface, it was a question of morality that Darcy would instantly disdain, but this was Wickham, a man who was very possibly the most evil, vicious, charlatan of his acquaintance. Why the scores of women he ruined and the families Darcy had paid over the years likely amounted to years of earnings from the income of an estate such as Rosings. To permit that grand property to fall into his hands would be a great tragedy, not only for the family, but for the hundreds of lives that depended on the prosperity of the estate for their livelihood. It would likely take no less than five years for George Wickham to destroy the lives of so many, and Darcy would not allow such willful destruction.
“I agree.” Darcy released a breath, completely indifferent to his decision.
Lady Catherine stood from her chair. “Good, now we can start to plan a double wedding for next week –”
Darcy held up his hand to interrupt his aunt. “I agree to marry Anne, but this is not a decision I wish rush. I require this action wait until my normal Easter visit when I may ask Anne for her opinion on the matter. This decision affects her, does it not?
“It most certainly does not! She will marry whom I decide. Besides, you’ll never be married in the true sense of the word. I do not expect you to spend any significant amount of time at Rosings, Fitzwilliam.” Lady Catherine narrowed her eyes, drawing a line in the sand. Clearly she intended to remain queen and mistress of her kingdom.
“Perhaps you ought to reconsider your position, Aunt Catherine. I demand my properties remain profitable, even personally cutting the fat from bloated budgets and useless additions. “
Lady Catherine’s mouth moved up and down with fearsome anger flashing in her eyes. Before she readied her counterattack, the Earl stepped in.
“Let’s resolve we have agreed on the main issue at hand. The particulars of carrying out our decision will be decided at a later date. We need to work together to protect Georgiana and Darcy will make his annual visit to Kent for Easter with the expectation that he make Anne his wife.” The earl glanced between his sister and nephew offering both an encouraging nod.
“I agree, Uncle, so long as my aunt realizes the ramifications of setting me as owner of Rosings should dear Anne die.”
Lady Catherine’s face began to redden as she held her breath. Her brother gently directed her to the door, calling to Darcy it was past time they return to Matlock House and he hoped to see his nephew and niece soon for another family dinner.
With his relatives gone, Darcy walked over to his sideboard with plans to pour himself a drink. Reliving his decision as he lifted the decanter with only half of his favorite amber liquid filling the vessel, Darcy shrugged and placed the glass down. He carried the decanter back to his desk, taking a swig on the way. As he began his journey into drunken oblivion, he chastised himself to never again question the Lord’s plan to ruin forever the life of Fitzwilliam Darcy.
You’ve been reading By Consequence of Marriage
By Consequence of Marriage, Book 1 of the Moralities of Marriage
a Pride and Prejudice novel variation series
Release Date: December 23, 2014
65,000 words, ~334 pages in print.
When his horse throws a shoe, Fitzwilliam Darcy misses rescuing his sister, Georgiana Darcy, from the clutches of George Wickham by only one day. Now on the hunt to find them both, the gossip beginning to swirl in London forces him to abdicate the search to his cousin, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam, while he plays the wayward gentleman in Hertfordshire with his friend Charles Bingley. After a collision with his future, Darcy struggles to satisfy his attraction to a pair of fine eyes and keep his family’s scandal hidden.
Elizabeth Bennet dreams of nothing more than remaining close to her sister, Jane. When a rich gentleman, Charles Bingley, enters the neighborhood, it seems certain that Jane will make a match with him. After all, Jane Bennet is the sweetest and most beautiful woman in the county! But Elizabeth’s efforts to find her own local match go awry and she feels abandoned by the first man to cause stirrings in her heart. Her parents attempt to marry Elizabeth off to her cousin, William Collins, who is set to inherit the estate. But when she refuses, she soon finds herself In London with relatives, forced to find her own happiness.
+ 23 additional Pride & Prejudice variations are available at these fine retailers . . .
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A Jane-of-all-trades, mistress to none! Elizabeth Ann West is the author of 8 novels and 11 novellas, 18 of which are story variations of Jane Austen’s Pride & Prejudice.
A more in depth coverage of Darcy’s family lineage is more enlightening and realistic as far as the burden Fitzwilliam Darcy bears for family duty.