Within his bending sickle’s compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
Your devoted betrothed,
E. Bennet
*****
Thursday, May 7, 1812
Darcy’s heart felt lighter than ever after he read Elizabeth’s letter, delivered with a note from the Gardiners inviting him to dine with them. It was a source of wonderment that he could feel so foolishly anxious to read a note from a woman, let alone a woman who only weeks before professed to intensely dislike him. He smiled as he smelled the light fragrance of lavender and read her delicate, feminine script. His smile grew as he recognised all the traits of the Elizabeth he loved most within this first letter. She opened with civility, of course, and then turned towards playfulness. She instinctively put him at ease by asking about his business habits and how he would prefer to spend the year and showed her caring nature by asking after Georgiana and his family. Her curiosity and impertinence only made him chuckle. But what was most unexpected and cherished was that she opened herself to him, with the tenderness of the sonnet and the relation of her private thoughts. Although she did not write of love, she seemed open to loving him and ended by reassuring him of her steadfastness. He felt honoured that such a woman would accept his hand.
“I do think Elizabeth is truly beginning to like me!” he exclaimed to Alfred, who sat at his feet. “If the minx suggests I use the words of poets to convey my sentiments, I will be glad to oblige.”
He penned his reply and was putting away his writing supplies with the intention of stopping by his favourite bookshop before dining with the Gardiners, when his butler entered the library announcing his aunt and cousin.
“Darcy! I demand you announce your engagement to Anne immediately! You are killing her!” Lady Catherine cried in what appeared to be true hysteria.
Darcy looked at his cousin and saw she was about to collapse. He guided her to a sofa and called his butler back in. “Call for my physician at once!”
Anne was mumbling over and over again, “Mrs. Jenkinson…need…Fitzwilliam. I need…Fitzwilliam.”
Lady Catherine shoved Darcy out of the way. “Anne you are here. I brought you to Darcy.”
Anne was attempting to shake her head but was simply too faint, yet Darcy understood her perfectly. He left his aunt and cousin to find his butler and housekeeper waiting outside the door. After dispatching messengers to deliver two quickly penned notes, he arranged for rooms to be prepared for his aunt and cousin and refreshments to be served, although it appeared doubtful Anne could keep anything down.
*****
Lady Catherine watched over her ill daughter and waited for Darcy’s physician to arrive. If Anne survived this illness, she would not rest until she witnessed Darcy and Anne wed at last. It surprised her greatly to see how Anne requested Darcy by her side. She had not thought they had affection for each other. Darcy rarely visited and seemed to ignore Anne’s presence. Anne was timid around Darcy, preferring her other cousin, Richard. Of course, the Viscount rarely visited.
Catherine’s brother, the Earl, had risen to power and wealth nearly upon reaching his majority. He never paid much attention to his older sister, yet doted on their younger sister, Darcy’s mother. Nan, as they called her, was the family favourite. She had not been directed by their mother or guardian whom to marry. Her happiness was considered more important than consequence. Instead, Catherine wed an older gentleman who was heir to a baronet.
The scandal of her father hung over her, and Lewis de Bourgh was the only interested suitor she had in three seasons. She had little dowry, but her marriage settled some of her deceased father’s debt owed to the de Bourgh investors, and they gained connections to an earldom. Her mother and guardian, a paternal uncle, had been very adamant about the match. At the time, she gladly did whatever was necessary to assist her family and restore honour to the Fitzwilliam name. She may have been able to bend her husband into settling more matters but within a few years her brother came of age and would take no charity. Instead, he sold a small estate to remove the family debt. It would have been a foolish thing on his side, but he had also inherited from their maternal uncle. He could not inherit the marquessette, but he did inherit all the family’s holdings and wealth. He was acknowledged as the wealthiest man in England.
Shortly after that he proved notable in Parliament and married, beginning his family and seemingly forgetting Catherine’s entirely. When Nan married his boyhood friend, Robert Darcy, it solidified their closeness. Their estates were not far from each other. Without the watchful eye of her family on her husband, Sir Lewis squandered his wealth with foolish investments.
Anne’s marriage to Darcy would solve many concerns at once for Lady Catherine, but she had never considered their feelings of attachment for one another. Marriage was a business, a contract. Darcy would have another property for reasons of clout, and Rosings would have a prudential master with enough money to cover its debts and implement costly changes to the estate.
To see her daughter desire Darcy’s presence in her time of need provoked a curious emotion in Lady Catherine. She did love Anne dearly and saw to her needs the best way she understood: financial security. Realizing Anne relied on Darcy, and that she would feel emotional contentment in her marriage, brought happiness most parents could not claim to feel while their child lay ill.
At last the doctor arrived and while he attempted to have Lady Catherine leave, she would not depart.
Anne was barely lucid and to save her energy, the doctor interviewed Mrs. Jenkinson as well.
“Madam,” he said to her, “I understand the primary complaint is Miss de Bourgh’s casting of her accounts but that headaches, fatigue, and fainting have accompanied this?”
“Yes, sir.” The companion wrung her hands together.
“How long has she been in such a state?”
“Nearly two weeks,” Lady Catherine replied authoritatively.
The doctor peered at Anne for a moment.
“How old is your daughter, madam?”
She raised her chin as she replied, “She is seven and twenty.”
The doctor made some clucking noise that seemed to be full of disapproval.
“Mrs. Jenkinson, has your charge shown any affinity for any of the servants or locals?”
The woman furrowed her brow in confusion, and Lady Catherine answered for her. “She has nothing to do with the servants and except for riding in her phaeton to the Parsonage with her companion, and never even going inside, she has seen no one since my nephews visited at Easter.”
His eyebrows lifted at the information. “Did you bring her maid?”
“Of course!” Lady Catherine replied, scandalised.
“Call her in.” When the woman stood before him, he asked the most startling question. “When did Miss de Bourgh last have her courses?”
“Doctor!” Lady Catherine shouted, outraged at the vulgarity.
He waved her off and stared intently at the maid until she answered. She looked at her feet. “It was mid-March.”
He only nodded his head and dismissed the woman and Mrs. Jenkinson.
“Lady Catherine, I realise we are in your nephew’s home and at your daughter’s request. It seems that is an excellent thing for I rather believe your daughter is in a delicate condition. Her symptoms are not unusual and I believe she will soon recover with proper rest and nourishment.”
It took her a moment to grasp the doctor’s meaning. First she paled, then turned red. “Darcy!” she shouted as she pulled on the bell cord. She would have him summoned and not allow him to leave until he agreed to purchase a special license immediately. To realise that he had seduced her daughter on his last visit and then left without a word or clear intent to marry her filled Lady Catherine with anger. He was no better than her
father had been. He treated her no better than her brother had and certainly no better than her husband had. She was through allowing men to take control of her life. Now they were harming her daughter.
A weak voice from the bed said, “Mama, no.”
“Anne?” She hastened to her daughter’s side.
“It is Richard.”
“No!” she roared out.
“Please, we are to marry.”
“What! How?”
Anne was struggling to speak, but Lady Catherine was able to make out that it was kept as a secret. She called in Mrs. Jenkinson and the maid. Both confirmed they knew Anne held a fondness for Colonel Fitzwilliam and would receive him privately in her rooms.
Ruined! Her plans were ruined! Now Anne must wed her brother’s second son who had no fortune at all. Once again, she had barbarously been misused by her family. Enraged, she left her daughter in the care of the doctor and found her male relatives in the library.
Upon entering, she saw that her brother and Richard had arrived. They all looked concerned, Richard more so than the others, but it did nothing to assuage her anger. All three men jumped to attention when the library door slammed shut, and Lady Catherine propelled herself forward with alarming speed and fury.
“You!” She shook a bony finger at Richard. Then she turned on Darcy. She felt her face heat as she seethed with rage. “And you!”
Lastly she faced her brother. “And you let them! You have always thought only of yourself and allowed me to suffer!” She stood shaking and breathing heavily for a moment before sagging onto a sofa.
The three gentlemen stood motionless, apparently confused and helpless as to how to calm Lady Catherine. Finally, Lord Denchworth approached Darcy’s wine decanter and brought a glass to his sister.
“Catherine, tell us what this is about.”
“The physician believes Anne is with child. She is very ill.” She looked at the astonished faces of the men before her and glared harshly at her older nephew.
“Richard Bartholomew Fitzwilliam, you cannot be so surprised! She confessed to the activity you two have engaged in.”
“Aunt, I assure you…”
She cut him off and directed her words to Darcy. “Of course, she did. What was she to do, wait on you year after year? You should have done your duty and married her years ago!”
Darcy was not to be bullied. “Lady Catherine, allow me to remind you…”
She interrupted him and, with eyes full of hate, looked at her brother. “Father would be most disappointed in you, Brother. How can you rule the family so weakly?”
His lordship’s face clouded over. “Catherine, you must cease this fantasy you have of our father. It has not been so many years since all of Great Britain knew he was an irresponsible gambler and drunkard who delighted in debauchery and left the family impoverished when he succumbed to his dissolute ways.”
“He was made an earl of Great Britain!”
“At the behest of our grandfather, the Marquess of Spotswood.”
“He was a favourite of the king and my grandfather!”
“No, Sister. Our grandfather only wished to have his daughter honoured after our father seduced her into marriage.”
Lady Catherine’s cheeks blushed scarlet. She was the product of a scandal, born only six months after her parents’ hasty marriage.
Lord Denchworth continued, “Grandfather Harrison was a good man who honoured his duties and obligations. He was rewarded for his service in the proper manner. Father schemed and connived his way to higher rank when he should have been satisfied as Earl of Ireland.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam and Darcy gasped at the revelations about their family.
“He desired to further the family’s consequence!”
Her brother narrowed his eyes. “Like you do? Why it is that you always schemed for Anne to marry William instead of my son, Nicholas? I should think wife of a peer more consequential than wife of a gentleman.”
Lady Catherine stared into her wine glass and refused to answer or look at her brother.
“It is because you know I have put strict measures of control on the funds of the family seat after selling off our other estates to bring us out of ruin. Furthermore, the lands and funds I later inherited from our uncle, Lord Spotswood, have even stricter measures. The Darcy fortune does not have such narrow parameters, and he would be free to invest with you or simply give Rosings money.”
“You do not know the sacrifices I have made for duty and family! I married a ridiculous man of no distinction —heir to a baronet— and I, the daughter of an earl, granddaughter of a marquess.
“Yet his fortune, acquired by trade,” she spat the words, “was to help my family, so I submitted. A fortune he squandered with ridiculous scheme after ridiculous scheme, all to fund some boat— which he named after me! He mocked me with that stupid boat, said he spent his time with his dear Catherine. When a man takes a mistress, his wife knows what she lacks, but am I not more appealing than a boat? And where were you, William? Rising in power and esteem and getting richer each year!”
Tears of mortified betrayal stained her face. Immediately, her brother moved next to her and gently took her in his arms. “Cathy, I am sorry. I was too young to protect you on the marriage mart, like I did Anne. I never realised how desperate your financial situation was becoming until Richard explained it to me last week. My brother Darcy and I would have found a way to support you and Anne years ago, if only your pride had allowed you to ask.”
Lady Catherine sat silently confused. All her life, she had only her pride, and now even that was finally stripped away. Her brother now claimed he would have desired to assist her. For nearly thirty years she had believed he was as ashamed of her existence as she was. He brought an unprecedented level of respectability to the family name. Naturally, he would want to distance himself from the reminder of their father’s deficiencies.
Some would have been humbled by the knowledge of their fatherhood; instead, Lady Catherine clung to the importance of birth and rank over character and manner. Perhaps a tradesman might have acted more honourably than her father, but she was of noble blood. While frequently the recipient of gossip and hurtful remarks in her youth, as a married lady of highest rank in a small parish where no one knew her history, she relied on the lawful distinction of birth. She had even told herself she was higher and more worthy than her sister, who married only a gentleman. She refused to lose that distinction because her husband put his estate in debt.
Rather than debase herself before family she believed neglectful, she tried to force her nephew’s hand and concoct schemes. Now, she saw it meant nothing. She had pushed aside the very people who would have had her interests close to their hearts. Could it really have been so simple? How many years had she wasted due to foolish pride, and how many lives had she disrupted? Now she looked at her brother and his namesake, feeling the full force of her travesties. Can they ever forgive me?
After many minutes, Lady Catherine nodded and whispered, “Yes, my pride. And I almost lost Anne because of it.”
After a shuddering breath, she turned to Richard. “She claims you have been betrothed these three years and worried I would cast her out before she inherited Rosings if you announced it earlier. She loves you dearly. The physician is hopeful she will recover soon. Go to her.” Richard leapt from his seat.
Chapter Thirteen
Thursday, May 7th, continued.
Lord Denchworth must have sensed Lady Catherine’s repentant attitude for, after a look towards Darcy, he said, “Catherine, tell us everything.”
Lady Catherine’s pride attempted to resurface as she tried to brush away her brother’s reproach. “Brother, it sounds as if you know the whole of it. I wished for Darcy to marry Anne, as Rosings is in dire straits.”
Darcys were known for their restraint; however, Fitzwilliams were not, and his lordship displayed the family trait excellently when he slammed his fist on a table. “I have had quite enough o
f this! Now tell me everything before you irreparably harm our family and this poor boy even more!”
He watched his sister tense, but she said nothing, and he continued pressing her for information. “Richard heard your plans against William here. We know of your attempts to force matrimony between Anne and William by employing George Wickham. Now you will tell us everything or...” He gave her a look only close siblings could share —ones who knew the other’s darkest secrets from youth.
She managed to reply quietly, “Perhaps you should tell me what you know first. I promise to fill in the necessary details.”
Darcy and Lord Denchworth exchanged looks, and after a nod of assent from Darcy, the elder man began. “Your motivation for William to marry Anne has always been mercenary. You were trying to manipulate a child, Catherine.” She winced at the truth of his statements.
Lord Denchworth summarised Richard’s findings. Lady Catherine only nodded and braced herself.
“Last summer, you presented George Wickham with a plot to convince Georgiana, our dear Georgie, to elope. And now you have employed him again to prevent William’s marriage to Miss Elizabeth Bennet. I demand you explain these things more fully.”
Looking at the stern expressions of her brother and nephew, she knew the time had come. And the truth shall set you free. “First, let me explain I have no understanding of this new romantic notion of love in marriage. It never occurred to me that either William or Anne would desire anything beyond wealth and connections in a marriage partner. By the time I was proved wrong, I was too invested in my plans and pride to stop.
“In addition to needing money to save Rosings, I knew William would be a good husband and a credit to Anne. I could not bear for her to be sold to some nouveau-riche upstart merely desiring her estate, with no rank or connections. And I did fear for her health, what with the memories of the anxiety I experienced during my first several Seasons. I had no desire to put her through that torment, and I despaired of her ever finding a better match than William.”
Compromising Mr. Darcy: A Pride and Prejudice Variation Anthology Page 16
