Darcy's Uneasy Betrothal

by Zoë Burton

  Mrs. Collins gasped, her hand going to her throat. She said nothing, however, so Bennet continued.

  “He attacked my daughter. Robbie, the footman, stopped him before he could do more than pick her up.” Bennet noted Mrs. Collins’ closed eyes and slumped posture. “Your husband apparently struck out at my servant and that was all the excuse Robbie needed. He beat my cousin badly, apparently so badly he did not survive.”

  Mrs. Collins straightened. She inhaled, opening her mouth as though to speak but closed it again as she exhaled. She repeated the action twice more before finally speaking. “I am sorry your daughter had to experience such a thing. I know how terrifying it is; how powerless it feels. Is she well?”

  Bennet nodded. “She was frightened when I spoke to her last night and elected to remain with her elder sister to sleep, but she is well.” He paused, cocking his head. “She fought him. Bit his hand.” He chuckled at the memory of Mary’s lifted chin and erect posture as she shared that part of her tale. “She is rather proud of it.”

  A glimmer of a smile crossed Mrs. Collins’ lips. “I would imagine so. Still, I am glad my husband was interrupted. Such action on her part would only have inflamed him and done nothing to protect her.” She paused. “I very much wish to return to my home, though I suppose I must see to his disposition.”

  “Yes. Had he a will?”

  Mrs. Collins shrugged. “I assume so. I was not privileged enough to be told.” Her tone was bitter. “As a mere woman, I was not deemed intelligent enough to understand it. Therefore, I was to remain in ignorance. Thankfully, my father saw fit to share with me the marriage articles, so I know that my dowry returns to me. It is not insubstantial, and I will be able to lead an independent life.”

  Bennet nodded again. “You may still end up residing here, should you be with child. Your husband’s son is next in line to inherit.”

  Mrs. Collins looked Bennet in the eye. “Forgive me if I sound angry or rude, but I hope I am not. His line should end with him. Who knows how much of his tendencies would come naturally to his child and how much could be eradicated with proper training. I would rather not take the risk. Of course, if I am to be a mother, I will do my best to raise the child properly.”

  “I understand. I will contact my solicitor to begin the search for the next in line, but know that should you have a son, this place will still be his.” Bennet paused. “I must apologize to you. I suspected your husband was mistreating you, but without proof, I could say nothing. The law would have been on his side. However, had you come to me, I would have done anything in my power to assist you.”

  “Thank you. Lady Catherine was aware. She has spoken to me more than once about her suspicions.” Mrs. Collins shrugged. “I never said anything my husband could use against me, but somehow she knew anyway. I believe she warned him away from me during her visit yesterday.”

  Bennet lifted his chin as understanding dawned. “And he took his lust out on my daughter in your stead, or tried to.”

  “Yes.” Mrs. Collins blushed. “He has done it before.” She suddenly stood. “I am not sorry he is gone.” She looked around. “I do not know what to do first. I am sorry.” She burst into tears.

  Bennet groaned to himself. He pulled his handkerchief out of his pocket and pressed it into her hand. “Do nothing at the moment. The magistrate is on his way to Longbourn; once his investigation is complete, my family and I will help you make your plans. You will need mourning apparel. I know from listening to my wife that you can have a gown dyed black. If you choose one, I will send the housekeeper up to fetch it and colour it for you.”

  Mrs. Collins sniffed, wiping her eyes. “Thank you. I will do as you suggest.”

  Bennet bowed. “Excellent. Rest a while and I will have you informed when Sir William has gone.” He turned and walked to the door.

  “Mr. Bennet.”

  Bennet turned at his guest’s call. “Yes?”

  “Please thank your footman for me.” Mrs. Collins stood stiffly, the handkerchief gripped in her clenched hands.

  Bennet’s lips quirked up briefly on one side. “I will do that.” With a nod, he opened the door and was gone.

  Chapter 21

  Darcy House, London

  Saturday evening

  The butler knocked on the open door of Darcy’s study, peeking around to see if he was interrupting anything.

  Darcy looked up. “Come in, Baxter.”

  The servant entered, bowing to the master. “Lady Catherine De Bourgh has arrived. She requested an interview with you. I have placed her in the front parlour.”

  Darcy scowled. “I wonder what she wants.” He sighed and stood. “I will go to her now.”

  Baxter bowed and with a murmured, “Very good, sir,” went on to his other duties.

  Darcy tossed his pen on the blotter next to the letter he had been writing. He shook his head, hoping he could remember what he intended to say when he came back to it, and strode out of the study and down the hall to the parlour.

  “Lady Catherine.” Darcy bowed. “What a surprise to see you here.”

  Lady Catherine stood. She sniffed before responding. “I do not see why it should be a surprise after the last letter I received from you.”

  Darcy gritted his teeth. He walked back to the door and shut it, knowing the conversation would not be pleasant and hoping to keep it as private as possible. Then, he strode further into the room. He gestured to his aunt to sit and, with a flip of his coat tails, took a seat close to hers. “I do not see why you should be upset about my letter. I have told you for years I would not marry Anne. She would not accept me if I did ask, so it is a moot point.”

  “She will marry you if I tell her to. She is my daughter and she will do as I say.” Lady Catherine’s sharp tones grew in volume.

  “Regardless, I will not marry her, so your visit here today was a waste of time.”

  Lady Catherine’s countenance suddenly took on a sly expression. “I received a letter from my rector congratulating me on your engagement to his cousin.”

  “Your rector?” Darcy frowned, a crease forming between his brows.

  “Mr. William Collins. I believe he is related to your friend’s neighbours in Hertfordshire.”

  Darcy’s brow cleared. “Ah, yes, I did hear about him. I am surprised you would give a living to one such as he.”

  “So you have heard of his propensities?” Lady Catherine shifted, looking uncomfortable. She rallied, though, and drew the conversation back to her desired topic. “My point is, he thinks you are engaged to his cousin instead of yours.”

  Darcy sat back, crossing his arms over his chest and raising a brow. “I am engaged to his cousin instead of mine. What is your point?”

  “Surely you do not intend to follow through with it. You were formed for Anne. I have met Miss Elizabeth Bennet and she is nothing. She has no grace, no manners,” Lady Catherine waved her hand to emphasize her words. “She will be laughed at and make you a laughingstock. You must break it off with her. We will announce your engagement to Anne and your reputation will be saved.”

  Darcy’s arms came down as he leaned forward. “I do intend to follow through with it. What do you mean, you met Elizabeth? What have you done?”

  Lady Catherine’s chin rose. “I went to meet this girl and to impress upon her the differences in your stations.”

  Darcy rolled his eyes, not caring that it was disrespectful and that his aunt would be offended. “Lovely. I hope she put you in your place. Elizabeth is not one to suffer fools gladly.”

  “I made certain the chit understood you regretted her. As I said before-.”

  “You what? How would you even know if I regretted her? What did you say?” Darcy rose out of his chair as a flush began to rise from his collar to his ears.

  “I told her I received a letter from you and that you regretted a connection.” Lady Catherine smirked. “It was all rather easily done.”

  “You told my betrothed that I wished to brea
k it off with her?” Darcy raised a hand, palm out, when his aunt opened her mouth to continue. “I do not know why you would do such a thing, other than the same nonsense you always trot out that you are my closest relation, which, by the way, you are not. You do not deserve to know any of my business.”

  The implications of Lady Catherine’s visit to Longbourn were beginning to impress themselves upon Darcy’s consciousness, and he felt a tightness in his chest and a roiling in his stomach. “I am telling you now, if Elizabeth calls off our engagement because of you, I will cut off all connection between Rosings and Pemberley. Let society laugh about us behind our backs; I care not.”

  “You do not know what you are saying!” Lady Catherine stood, her eyes wide. “We are family!”

  “I do not care!” Darcy felt a savage pleasure when his aunt leaned away from his snarled words. Afraid his anger was about to overtake him, he strove to get rid of her. “Get out. Go now before I do or say something we both regret.” He pointed to the door. When Lady Catherine failed to move, he roared, “Baxter!”

  The door opened and the butler timidly entered.

  “See my aunt to the door.” Darcy bowed to Lady Catherine and turned, exiting the room without a word. He strode up the stairs, arriving within moments at his bedchamber door. He listened to his aunt fussing at the servant, then entered the room, slamming the door behind him.

  Immediately, Darcy began to pace. He rubbed his chest where the tight feeling lingered. “What must Elizabeth think of me?” He cursed, slamming his fist into the wall before spinning around to stalk in the other direction. “I sneered at her mother’s exuberance and what does my own aunt do? Goes to Longbourn and displays less decorum than Mrs. Bennet!” He pulled his fist back to strike the other wall, but feeling pain as his fingers curled, decided against it. He stilled, dropping his chin to his chest. He sighed, lifting his head to locate a chair, then striding over to it and dropping into it.

  Darcy leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “I could use this to get out of the marriage, but do I wish to?” Visions of Elizabeth danced through his head. He saw her smile, heard her laugh, and felt the smooth skin of her hand in his. A ghost of a smile played about his lips and he sighed. “I do not wish to give her up.” He remembered the strange attachment he felt for her when she was injured and he carried her into Longbourn. “I suspect we were meant for each other,” he murmured. “And that our engagement was simply moved forward because of the incident that brought us together. I still would have fallen in love with you, had the bull not threatened you as it did.”

  That last thought brought Darcy up short. “Fallen in love with you? Have I?” As he further considered his current distress and the feelings Elizabeth had engendered in him from the beginning, he came to realize that, yes, he was in love with his betrothed. He sighed. “What a relief. I will not have to worry so much about our marriage being successful. But, does she love me?”

  Darcy stood once more and resumed pacing the room. His thoughts were consumed with Elizabeth and the methods he could use to win her love. “I have shown her respect already. She has told me so herself. What else should a gentleman in love do to demonstrate his feelings?”

  For a half hour, Darcy plotted his course. Finally, his anger with his aunt released and his plan laid out in his mind, he rang for his valet. When Smith appeared in the dressing room door, Darcy informed him they would be returning to Hertfordshire on the morrow. “I plan to remain for several weeks. I do not wish to be separated from my betrothed again before we are married.”

  “Yes, sir.” Smith bowed. “Will you require a tray brought up?”

  Darcy ran a hand over his empty-feeling stomach. “Yes, I will, but have it taken to my study. I have some correspondence to finish.”

  “Yes, sir.” With another bow, Smith disappeared.

  Darcy returned belowstairs, picking up his letter and, thankfully, recalling what it was he wished to say. When that was finished, he went through the rest of his letters, tossing invitations on the fire and sorting the rest of the missives into piles. When his tray arrived, he sat down by the fire with his personal correspondence and began to read it while he ate.

  Darcy was halfway through his meat pie when Baxter knocked on the door. He bid the servant to enter, wiping his mouth as his order was obeyed.

  “A note has come from Matlock House.” Baxter entered with a silver salver in his hand, the missive positioned exactly in the centre. He approached Darcy, holding it out to him.

  Though a frown pulled the corners of his lips down, Darcy accepted the note and nodded to dismiss the butler. He broke the seal and unfolded the letter.

  “Blast!” Darcy threw his napkin on the table, his meal forgotten. “Why now? I thought we had worked the details out two days ago! Is Lady Catherine at the root of this? I would bet my yearly income she went straight to her brother when she left here.” He stood and paced away from the table, his uncle’s missive in his hand. “The matter cannot wait. I expect you to attend me at Matlock house at eleven tomorrow morning.” He slapped the letter against his other hand. “This will delay my return to Elizabeth by an entire day, if not longer.” He stopped, imagining her reaction to his aunt’s interference. “I am so sorry, my love. I promise I will be there as soon as I can.”

  Longbourn, Monday morning

  Elizabeth set out on her morning tramp, Robbie on her heels. She had not slept well for the second night in a row, leaving her in a foul state of mind. She kept hearing Lady Catherine’s words over and over. Try as she might, she could not stop them for long. It was unlike her, she knew.

  Except for continuing headaches when her emotions were strained for too long or she became overtired, and the loss of her memories of the day of the accident, Elizabeth had recovered from her ordeal. She had been given permission to walk further afield, though she still had to bring someone along when she went out. She was currently taking advantage of the newly-granted freedom, though she felt a little bad for poor Robbie. Thankfully, she thought, his long legs allow him to keep up.

  Feeling as though she were trying to outrun her emotions, Elizabeth charged up Oakham Mount. She reached the top, breathless, and dropped to her favorite seat, a large, flat-topped boulder near where the hill dropped off. She tore off her bonnet and gloves, dropping them beside her, then pulled her feet up, wrapping her arms around her knees. She gazed out over the area, clearly seeing Longbourn’s roof and, in the distance and looking like a small doll house, Netherfield. She sighed.

  As her eyes wandered the familiar and much-loved landscape of her home, Darcy’s aunt’s words skittered through her brain again. Her head dropped onto her knees and she closed her eyes as tightly as she could. I cannot decide if I am more hurt than angry, or more angry than hurt. I cannot believe I allowed him to turn my head the way I did. All these years, guarding my heart against all my mother’s wishes, and Mr. Darcy comes along and tears through my defenses.

  Elizabeth remained in that attitude for several long minutes before finally lifting her head. She wiped the tears off her cheeks with her sleeve and huffed. “I will not cry over him anymore.” Her anger began to rise. “He is clearly not worth my tears.”

  Elizabeth remained at Oakham Mount for another half hour, until the sun rose well into the sky. Then, she and Robbie headed back down to break their fasts and begin the day.

  Though Elizabeth had vowed to think of Darcy no more, she was unable to break the circle of thoughts about him that whirled around in her brain. Over the next two days, her temper became shorter and shorter, until even Jane began to avoid her.

  Chapter 22

  Darcy finally returned to Netherfield on Wednesday, three days after he intended to. Bingley was there to greet him.

  “Darcy, good to see you!” Bingley bowed to his friend. “Were you able to straighten everything out with the earl?”

  Darcy handed his hat, gloves, and greatcoat to the housekeeper. “I was.” He bowed to Bingley. “I do not know how
he managed to confuse everything, but he did. It is a wonder he has not run his earldom into the ground with his ineptness with money.”

  Bingley laughed. “Do not allow him to hear you disparage his abilities so.”

  Darcy rolled his eyes. “Oh, I know. He likes to think of himself as a great manager of everything in his domain. I think it must run in the Fitzwilliam family, this lack of money sense, for Lady Catherine is the same. If I were not reviewing her books every year, Rosings would not still be standing.”

  “Well, let us not linger here in the hallway. Come into the drawing room. Louisa and Hurst are awaiting my return.” Bingley gestured down the hall.

  Darcy stepped beside his friend, walking next to him toward the drawing room. “Mr. and Mrs. Hurst are waiting, you say?”

  “Mmhmm, yes. It is just the three of us now.” Bingley stopped short of his destination. “Caroline returned to town. Miss Grantly invited her to a house party in Sussex. Caro intended at first to turn her down, but her friend informed her that a certain duke was planning to attend. Since a duke outweighs a Darcy …”

  “She threw me over for him.” Darcy shook his head. “My heart is broken.”

  Bingley laughed. “Sarcasm becomes you.” He winked at Darcy before moving toward the drawing room.

  Darcy shook his head again, looking at the ceiling, and then followed his friend into the room.

  A few minutes later, after greeting the Hursts and sitting down for tea, Bingley asked Darcy if he had heard from Longbourn.

  Darcy’s brow creased. “No, I have not. I sent a letter on Monday, but I suppose there was no time for a reply. Has something happened?”