Ruined Forever

by D. L. Carter

  I…” began Lady Catherine, but her brother ignored her.

  “It was humiliating to see her behavior,” said Darcy. “How could she believe her involvement legal?”

  “I do see, Darcy,” said Lord Matlock, sadly. “I have the small advantage of many years exposure to her fits and starts. This one, however, is excessive even for her.”

  “I have a theory, if you will hear it, uncle.”

  The earl nodded.

  “My aunt is either bored or mad. She denied it, of course, but I firmly believe she was seeking some entertainment and distraction to fill her empty hours.” Darcy turned to his aunt. “I know you, madam. You have driven all your acquaintances away with your ridiculous pronouncements of superiority, your abuse and unjust criticism and unsolicited advice. No one responds to your invitations and no one issues them. The London Haute Ton care not for your pretensions of superiority, so you have retreated to Rosings where company and distraction is limited.”

  He turned back to the earl. “It matters not to my aunt that a gentlewoman might end her life at the end of a noose were her will to prevail. All that matters to her is that she be respected, even where it is not earned, feared where she is not respected, and worshiped by those who are supposed to worship God. Uncle, I fear for those who do live under her thumb. Lady Catherine is quite mad.”

  “What?” cried Lady Catherine!

  “It is the truth, Lady Catherine,” continued Darcy. “Solitude has driven you mad. No one likes you or seeks your company, not even your family who attend upon you only when compelled. You are forced, therefore, onto the company of those dependent upon your goodwill, and they, you torture.”

  “Darcy, how dare you?” She half rose from her chair glaring at both her brother and her nephew but both glared back at her with equal intensity.

  “Mrs. Jenkins is a pale creature and cannot play a decent game of whist,” said Darcy to Lord Matlock. “Poor Anne has no skills, no conversation, and cannot be relied upon to bring gentlemen to call on her, to kowtow to Aunt Catherine and bend to her will. I wonder, indeed, about Anne’s mind. I have not had private conversation with her for years. And now, Mr. Collins with his unctuous worship gave my Aunt Catherine the potential for entertainment. She commanded him to seek a wife so that she would have another victim, another woman to bully and abuse and bend to her will. But that is not what happened. He died and when he did, you then sought your entertainment, the elevation of your mood and the illusion of your consequence, by destroying a young woman wholly unknown to you. You want to be lauded for your perspicuity, but in truth you are a bully. You do not care how she is harmed, nor the destruction of her family's reputation and standing as long as you are not bored! Madam, I am ashamed of you!”

  “How dare you!”

  “It is little more than the truth! No one likes you, Aunt. Not even your family. Nor do they respect you. No one heeds your much-vaunted superiority of mind, nor gives your advice a moment's consideration unless they are dependent upon your goodwill, and the wife of your posturing, sycophantic parson would be the ideal victim! But no, Miss Elizabeth Bennet escaped that fate and you could not bear the disappointment!”

  “Darcy,” said his uncle. “I am all astonishment! I have never heard you this eloquent.”

  “It is the motivation, uncle. I have discovered I cannot bear injustice. While I was forced to endure her nonsense alone I could remain silent, so long that it was only witnessed by family, but when she took herself outside the walls of Rosings Park and exposed herself to society, before my friends and acquaintances, I realized this state of affairs could no longer continue. Uncle, she damages our standing in society with her opinions, her fits and starts. It cannot be endured in silence.”

  “If you say so,” said the earl, and grinned at his sister’s discomfort. Then he whispered for Darcy’s ears alone. “This injustice, is she pretty?”

  Darcy blushed which seemed to be all the answer the earl required.

  “I will grant you, Mrs. Jennings is no fit company for a woman of my stature,” said Lady Catherine. “If you had married Anne as you should, Darcy, she would have been dismissed years ago.”

  “You mistake the matter, aunt. If I had been fool enough to marry Anne I should not have lived with you at Rosings. I should have taken Anne far away from your influence. Likewise I would not have invited you to make your home at Pemberly, because, Madam, I do not like you. But I shall not marry Anne in order to make a fourth for whist. I will not wed into your family. Your vicious propensities toward strangers trouble me all the more when I consider that while poor Anne has been left unsupervised in your care, each year, her health fails. Uncle, I request Anne be brought to London and taken to Harley Street to consult with experts. Her perpetual ill health has never been competently addressed and I fear for her.”

  “I will not be denied,” cried Lady Catherine. “You swore you would wed with Anne if I did not argue the case against that woman.”

  “First, I will not marry Anne. Her health will not permit it. And, second, you did persist in bringing case against Elizabeth Bennet. I am therefore freed from that obligation.”

  “I am in agreement with Darcy,” said the earl. “The family bond is too close and when last I saw Anne I was convinced she could never survive a pregnancy.”

  “She knows her duty where obviously Darcy does not! There will be a child. I insist upon it.”

  “I care not for your opinion, aunt,” said Darcy. “The life and death of a young woman is too important to be left to the whims of a selfish old woman.”

  “I find I care for the souls of the people of Hunsford,” said Lord Matlock. “I shall appoint an appropriate replacement to Mr. Collins. Someone with a better education. Better understanding of the responsibilities of a clergyman. To attend to their bodies and souls rather than pandering to a bored old woman.”

  “He is my parson, serving at my gift. I shall choose. I have chosen. Mr. Fitzwallace travels with me to take up his duties!”

  “Indeed, you should meet with Mr. Fitzwallace, uncle. You will find him an education, I assure you.” Darcy turned his back on his aunt but did not lower his voice. “If I did not make it clear in my letter, it was due to haste. Mr. Fitzwallace, curate of Meryton parish, sent letters to Lady Catherine spreading spurious gossip. He engaged in gossip from the pulpit that inflamed the neighborhood against an innocent family and he did it all out of personal greed and ambition. He wanted to receive the living that Mr. Collins’ possessed at his death.”

  “Thank you, Darcy,” said Lord Matlock. “I shall speak to my cousin the bishop about him and see if we cannot get him sent off to Africa or somewhere similar. Somewhere dark, with disease and hunger as a daily test of faith.”

  “Well earned.”

  “That is enough,” declared Lady Catherine, rising. “My horses have rested by this time. I am for home. Darcy, if you are prepared to apologize you may accompany me. Anne, as you know, misses you greatly.”

  The earl frowned. “Can it be possible she has already forgotten what we are discussing?”

  Darcy shook his head. “Astonishing, is it not?” He turned to Lady Catherine. “Thank you, Aunt, but when I next come to Rosings it will be to bring Anne to London to see a competent physician. I shall send a note instructing Mrs. Jennings to pack tonight.”

  “I do not understand this disrespect. I am your nearest relative…”

  “You say that often, aunt, but you are wrong in that as you are in many other matters. My sister is my nearest relative. She and no other may express an opinion upon my life. You have involved yourself in matters that are not your concern and I will no longer tolerate it.”

  “About time, Darcy,” said the earl. “I feared you would spend your life under her thumb.”

  “I see that remaining silent did her no good. I should have clearly refused to accept her interference long ago but I thought the bonds of family should be respected. I forgot that respect must be earned.”

/>   “What is this? I insist being clearly understood. Darcy must marry Anne.”

  “Not after you have brought scandal upon an innocent family. Do you think that threatening an innocent young lady with the noose is an appropriate action? This is not to be borne. It is not justice.”

  The earl applauded.

  “It is a shame that you will not run for Parliament, Darcy,” said Lord Matlock, while Lady Catherine fumed. “I would urge you to reconsider. All this eloquence has been hidden away. Now you have found it, I will not permit you to retreat into silence.”

  “In the past I would have dreaded the burden of public speaking. Strange though it may seem, in the last few days I have discovered in myself an eloquence unfamiliar to me. To speak in defense of the endangered seems to be my point of inspiration. Therefore I must think, in the future if I manage to keep that inspiration in my life I might just do as you suggest. But, for now, I am wearied of family matters. I beg you, permit me to leave this in your hands.”

  The earl looked thoughtfully into the fire.

  “Where is he going? I demand to know!”

  “Trust me, Darcy,” said Lord Matlock. “If Catherine continues to cause trouble I shall have her measured for a room in Bedlam. But it would help if you stayed a few days. At least until you have fetched Anne here. Certainly I shall require your testimony as to Catherine's actions in Hertfordshire.”

  “I will not tolerate this disrespect,” cried Lady Catherine, and was ignored.

  The earl rose and took Darcy by the arm.

  “We gain nothing with this quarreling tonight. It will take some time to settle matters here. Go, rest. I shall have a tray sent up. I must go through the legal steps necessary to take custody of Rosings and guardianship of Anne. We shall speak to the lawyers in the morning.”

  “As you say, uncle.”

  Lady Catherine struck the floor with her walking stick. “What is this? I demand my share of the conversation.”

  “You shall have it, sister, but not until the morning.”

  ***

  Darcy found the next two weeks a trial and a torment. His brief visits to Rosings each Easter had given him an aversion to his aunt’s company but not a full appreciation of it. As the days passed it became clearer that the balance of his aunt’s mind truly was disordered. When he’d first broached the subject of Lady Catherine’s sanity Darcy had only half believed it himself and had spoken the words only to inspire her to anger and foolishness, but it was clear his aunt appeared incapable of hearing those words which displeased her. Not through deafness or stubbornness but her mind rejected all protests. She would have her way. No other views were to be accepted or tolerated.

  Magistrates and lawyers made daily visits to Matlock House to listen to Lady Catherine rant about her rights, the duty owed to her and the coming wedding between Darcy and Anne. Nothing would shake her beliefs. Her obsession.

  “She will not give over, Darcy,” said Lord Matlock. “I had experience with this stubbornness of hers when a child, but she had become more rigid and controlling in her manner over the years.”

  He shook his head as he watched Lady Catherine haranguing the magistrate called to hear her case. She was energetically instructing the man in the organization of his pens and papers, his clothing, his hair and the manner of selecting carriage horses.

  “But,” continued the earl, “unfortunately the magistrate has had ample exposure to opinionated, high-handed and arrogant ladies of the ton. He will not rule against her on the basis of bad-manners.”

  “That is regrettable.” Darcy stared out of the window. His heart, if he were honest, was not in his current dealings. Yes, it was important to attend to the matter of Lady Catherine’s interference in persons wholly unconnected to her. To require the respect of the persons and interests of strangers as well as friends and family. And, if she could not abide by those conditions, to give the authority to control Lady Catherine over to Lord Matlock.

  “What is he doing here?” demanded the earl, from his position near the window.

  “What is going on?” demanded Lady Catherine. “I must know what is going forward.”

  “It is nothing to do with you, Catherine,” said Lord Matlock, then, smiling broadly left the room.

  Darcy was close on his heels. If there were aught to smile in all of this he wished to know it.

  “Son,” cried the earl, throwing his arms wide as a younger, darker version of himself attired in the blue and gold of a colonel in the 1st Dragoons bounded up the stairs.

  Colonel Fitzwilliam, second son of the earl of Matlock, was eternally grateful that the obsession for naming children 'George' had passed him by. Richard was good enough for him, and the family was thankful to have the means to tell Richard Fitzwilliam apart from Fitzwilliam Darcy.

  “Father,” cried Richard, embracing the earl but looking past him to Darcy. “I had not thought to see you here, Darcy. I was prepared to call upon you at Darcy House.”

  “I am assisting your father with an important family matter and did not want to bring this legal noise to impose upon my sister.”

  “Who is it?” cried a familiar voice. “I must know!”

  “Dear God,” said Richard. “I did not expect her to be here. Father, you should hang out plague warnings.”

  “Oh, be still. What brings you here while that Corsican roams free across France?”

  “A message from Darcy,” the colonel shot a look at his cousin. “Have you informed my father?”

  “Not until this moment did I think of it. Other matters held my attention.” Turning to the earl, Darcy continued. “Uncle, George Wickham, the son of my late father’s steward, is serving as a lieutenant in the militia. You remember his propensities from his youth and at college? I had thought to have my cousin call upon Wickham’s colonel and warn him.”

  “Of whom do you speak?” demanded Lady Catherine coming to the door and ignoring the magistrate who was trying to summon her back.

  “George Wickham,” said the earl without thinking.

  “That ingrate? I warned your father, Darcy. Over and over I warned him. The lower orders should not quit the spheres from whence they come. Only see what comes of educating a servant beyond his expectations. Why…”

  “Come, Catherine,” said Lord Matlock, turning her bodily. “You are awaited within. Richard, I expect you will be dining at your club. Take Darcy with you.”

  “As my father commands,” said Richard with a bow. “Come Darcy, put away your Friday face and change your attire. If you have been residing for any length of time with our aunt you can use the reprieve.”

  “As you say, Richard.”

  The two men mounted the main staircase and paused when they saw that Mrs. Jenkins, their cousin Anne’s pale, retiring companion, was descending.

  “Mrs. Jenkins,” said Richard, bowing.

  “Good afternoon,” said Darcy. “Are you going out?”

  “Yes, indeed, Mr. Darcy. I must visit an apothecary for Miss Anne’s nighttime draught.”

  “Has the Harley Street physician a recommendation to aid our cousin?” inquired Darcy.

  Mrs. Jenkins flushed and shook her head. “Certainly not. Miss Anne is to be seen only by Lady Catherine’s personal physician. I sent that London man away.”

  Darcy frowned. “The man was summoned by Lord Matlock’s express order.”

  “There is no need, Mr. Darcy. She was seen by Dr. Phogart only two weeks before we came here. She is not due to be seen for another two.” Mrs. Jenkins gave a simpering smile to the two men. “Lady Catherine is excessively attentive to her daughter’s needs and the doctor comes regularly, every month, to renew her medicines.”

  “And yet she does not improve,” said Darcy. “Which was why a different physician was summoned.”

  “Lady Catherine did not approve,” said Mrs. Jenkins, as if that settled the matter for man, God and the world complete.

  “That will not do, Mrs. Jenkins,” said Darcy, holding out h
is hand. “Give me that receipt. I shall send another message to the doctor and tomorrow Anne will meet with him. What time would be convenient for her?”

  “Well, tomorrow is Thursday and that is the day for her ice bath. After that she is generally too fatigued for company.”

  “What?” cried Richard! “Ice bath?”

  “In the middle of winter?” said Darcy. “Does my aunt want to kill her daughter?”

  “It is to strengthen her,” replied Mrs. Jenkins. “Very sensible, to my way of thinking. Derbyshire being so far to the north Miss Anne must increase her tolerance to the cold before she is wed. But Friday she has her steam inhalation treatment and that generally sets her to rights again.”

  “What is this torture?” murmured Richard.

  “I know not, but I suspect that your father is unaware of this regimen. Be of service to me, Richard. Have Catherine taken out of the study. Mrs. Jenkins, you and I will wait for a few moments in the front parlor then you will speak to the earl.”

  “But,” protested the lady. “I cannot be gone long from Miss Anne. I have only a moment while she sleeps to step out.”

  “Whyfor is that a problem?” demanded Darcy.

  “She is strapped to the backboard and sometimes it pains her before the hour is up and I must talk to her to distract her.”

  “Enough.” Darcy beckoned to a passing maidservant. “Go and release Miss Anne and aide her to bed if necessary.”

  The maid curtsied, then stepped forward, and whispered. “Ask her about the food as well.”

  “Dear God,” whispered Richard and hurried off.

  Chapter Twenty-four.

  As Mrs. Jenkins recitation of Anne De Bourgh's regimen progressed the magistrate and lawyer went paler and paler.

  “How many times a week is she permitted only pap to eat?” the magistrate demanded at one point.