A Death at Rosings: A Pride & Prejudice Variation

by Renata McMann

  “You say I am the only person you know of who places luxury below honor?” she said, her tone low and hard. “I tell you now, sir, I know at least two others.”

  He looked at her questioningly. Those were not the words he’d expected from her.

  “The first is yourself,” she said it almost as if the knowledge offended her. “The extent of Miss de Bough’s wealth has been impressed upon me. If you value the material more than ethereal concepts such as honor and love, why haven’t you wed her?”

  “Touché,” he said, not bothering to argue that he didn’t need any more wealth than he had. It would sound like a boast, and they both knew that wasn’t the reason he didn’t wed Anne. “And the second?”

  Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed farther. “My sister Jane. She would not marry simply for wealth.”

  Ah, the source of her sudden anger. “So you say,” he countered.

  “Are you doubting my judgment or my honesty?” she asked in a suddenly honeyed tone.

  Although she said it sweetly, the steely look never left her eyes. Darcy knew he’d landed himself in a hole now, for he couldn’t avoid answering her. “Judgment,” he said decisively. He could hardly call her a liar.

  “So you believe me to have misjudged my own sister?”

  How had he gotten himself into this corner? “I do.” He held up a hand when she opened her mouth to speak. “I observed her closely. I did not see signs of true attachment. I believe she would accept an offer from Bingley for the good of you all, setting her own happiness aside. What I did was as good for her as for him.”

  Elizabeth took several deep breaths. He was very aware that she was struggling not to unleash her temper. He was also very aware that he needed to somehow keep his eyes on hers, not drop them to take in what her deep inhalations were doing to her décolletage. Sadly, he knew she would never appreciate the nearly inhuman effort it cost him.

  “Do you know what I believe?” she asked. “I believe you prefer to think my judgment was false rather than admit yours was. You, the great Mr. Darcy, a man much too good to have set foot in Hertfordshire in the first place, could not possibly have been wrong.” She glared at him. “I admit I erred in judging you and Mr. Wickham, but you erred in your judgment of me. Neither of us has a perfect record. I knew Mr. Wickham for a few months. I’ve known Jane my entire life. She loved Mr. Bingley. You owe it to the happiness of both of them to set him straight on that.”

  “No.”

  “No?” she bit out.

  Darcy frowned. He wished he didn’t have to disagree with her on something she obviously felt so strongly about, but in justice to both Bingley and Elizabeth’s sister he had to stand his ground. “If I go to Bingley and tell him that I believe your sister truly loved him, there are two possibilities. The first is that Bingley is so easily influenced by me that he will act on what I say, as he did when I advised him against wedding her. If that is the case and I now tell him that your sister loved him, it will be almost as good as telling him to marry her. He will act, not out of love but out of obedience. Would you want that?”

  “No,” she said. “Yet you cannot convince me that you think Mr. Bingley would marry someone because you told him to.”

  “Not even if he was almost in love with her, and she had good reason to expect his proposal?” Darcy shook his head. “I’ve seen him in love many times, and it never lasts.” He held her eyes until she looked down.

  “You can’t have known that would be the case in this instance,” she said. He was relieved that her voice was softer, her anger dimmed.

  “Let us look at the other alternative,” he said, pressing his advantage. “That Bingley never loved your sister, even if she did love him. However much he was attracted to her, he didn’t love her very much then and doesn’t love her now. Bingley is very obliging, but he is quite capable of acting on his own. How much could he love her if he’s never made an attempt to see her after all these months?”

  “He loved her last November,” Elizabeth said.

  “If he still loves her, it is the most tepid love I’ve ever seen. He could easily return to Netherfield. My comments should not have carried that much weight.”

  She raised unreadable eyes to his. “Thank you for clarifying your actions.”

  Darcy scrutinized her, unsure how to respond.

  “I believe we’re in agreement about everything except how many additional servants to send for from London,” Elizabeth said, her tone businesslike. She shuffled through her papers. “As I see it, the fair thing to do would be for you to send for two thirds of the servants required to bring the staff back to what Lady Catherine had. We will then wait to see if Miss de Bourgh requires more. I believe this is the correct way to bridge our difference of opinion. It is not just Rosings and Miss de Bourgh I consider here, for she can hire in more servants at a later date. I’m also taking into account uprooting people’s lives to come for a position that may be deemed unnecessary in a short time.”

  Darcy nodded, feeling bereft. Elizabeth hadn’t seemed this withdrawn from him since he’d given her his letter.

  “Here is a list of what would be needed to restore what Lady Catherine had.” She handed him a sheet from her notes. “I will trust you to adhere to our two thirds agreement.”

  He took it without looking at it.

  Elizabeth stood. “I bid you good day, Mr. Darcy.”

  Before he could rise to bow to her, she was gone. It was some time before Darcy stood. He folded the paper Elizabeth had given him and tucked it into his coat. He departed the now silent library to go about his day, feeling disheartened.

  That evening, for the first time since his arrival, Darcy dreaded dinner. He had no idea what his reception from Elizabeth would be. As he dressed for the meal, he considered again that he was lingering in Kent for too long. Yet, with Anne still ill and the running of Rosings’ holdings still in transition, he felt it was necessary for him to stay. All of his Fitzwilliam relatives were hovering over the earl’s bedside, even though word had come that he was awake some of the time and eating soup. Darcy could not pass the responsibility of assisting Anne to someone else, because there was no one else.

  Nor did he wish to leave things as they stood between him and Elizabeth. Not that he was quite sure how they stood. She hadn’t stormed from the library, but he was sure she still didn’t agree with him.

  Darcy descended, walking slowly to the parlor the ladies favored. As he suspected, it contained Elizabeth and Mrs. Allen but not Miss Kitty Bennet, who’d taken to dining with Anne in her room to keep her company. Both women stood when he entered, dropping curtsies. He bowed, holding out his arm to Mrs. Allen.

  “Mr. Darcy, punctual as always,” Mrs. Allen said.

  Darcy nodded to her without giving a verbal reply. He escorted her down the hall to the dining room, Elizabeth trailing behind.

  There were some new footmen now, though Darcy waved the young man on his side of the table back and helped Mrs. Allen with her chair himself. He took his seat opposite Elizabeth, looking across the table at her with mild apprehension. If she was vexed with him, hopefully she had more grace than to show it in so public a place as the dining room.

  Elizabeth was not glaring across the table at him as he’d feared. Nor was she even seated, or turned toward him. Darcy followed her gaze.

  Anne stood in the doorway, Miss Kitty behind her. The new mistress of Rosings was too thin and too pale. She seemed to hesitate on the verge of stepping into the room, Kitty Bennet hovering at her shoulder. Darcy stood, aiming a bow in their direction.

  “Anne, dear,” Mrs. Allen said, jumping up and hurrying across the room. She took Anne’s hands in her own. “It’s so wonderful to see you. Do come dine with us.”

  Mrs. Allen dragged her cousin across the room and Darcy moved to assist Anne with her chair, once again waving off the nervous looking young footman. By the time he had her properly settled, the other ladies were seated. Darcy followed suit. A maid hurried forward wit
h a place setting for Anne and another for Miss Kitty, who seated herself beside Elizabeth.

  “It’s good to see you at dinner,” Elizabeth said to Anne. “And you, Kitty. We’ve missed your talk of meadow dwelling birds.”

  Miss Kitty pulled a face. “You know I don’t enjoy reading about birds. I only did so because Miss de Bourgh insisted. Now she’s making me read about flowers.” She turned worshipful eyes on Anne.

  Darcy looked down at the table to hide his amusement.

  “Kitty,” Anne said in a gentle voice. “Young ladies do not make faces during dinner, and I agree with your sister. We’re going to send you on walks so that you may see some of the birds and blooms you’ve been reading about. It will help you better appreciate the lesson I’m trying to instill, which is that there is much beauty and interest in the Kentish countryside.”

  “Yes, Miss de Bourgh,” Kitty said in dutiful tones. “Will you walk with me?”

  “We shall see,” Anne said.

  Miss Kitty looked hopeful, but Darcy took Anne’s words to be a refusal. He stole another look at Elizabeth, but she, who normally would have asked him of his day, avoided his eye. She turned to her sister.

  “I will walk with you, Kitty,” Elizabeth said. “I would quite enjoy it.”

  Darcy cleared his throat, wishing he dared offer to accompany them. Servants brought their first course, saving him from what would likely be an embarrassing request. As he ate, he watched Anne. She didn’t eat much, but she ate some, which was a good sign.

  To his right, Mrs. Allen kept up a steady stream of conversation between bites, mostly with Miss Kitty. The silence at his end of the table, between him and Elizabeth, grated on Darcy. He hoped the others would attribute the lack of conversation to not wanting to exclude Anne. Elizabeth and he both made forays into engaging her in conversation, but were rebuffed.

  Anne took a very small helping of the second course, almost as if she simply wanted a taste of everything without actually eating it, but there were enough different dishes so that she ate almost a third of a meal. Darcy had more than enough time to observe his cousin’s actions, as Elizabeth didn’t speak to him and avoided his gaze for the remainder of the meal. He ate stoically, wondering if dinner would ever end. Laying down her fork, Anne turned to him.

  “I understand Mr. Whitaker has been helping. Perhaps you should invite him for dinner,” she said.

  “Of course,” Darcy agreed. He narrowed his eyes at her choice of topic. Did she wish the man to court her? He would be an excellent choice for managing Rosings’ farmland. He wasn’t wealthy, but he seemed a decent, hardworking, helpful gentleman.

  Anne turned to Mrs. Allen. “Is the kitchen up to it?”

  “Yes, but the meal will be simple.”

  “I thought we were near to full staff in the kitchen,” Anne said. “The food was good tonight.”

  “Oh, we are,” Mrs. Allen said. “The cook we have is local, however, and not up to your late mother’s fashionable standards. Miss Elizabeth said, and I agree, that there is no need to send to London for a fancy cook and kitchen staff if you are happy with what we have.”

  “I prefer it. The food my mother’s cook made was overly rich for everyday. Will our new cook be prepared for the occasional more elaborate meal or rich dish?”

  Mrs. Allen looked to Elizabeth.

  “Not yet,” Elizabeth said. “She’s very capable, but not accustomed to such a grand kitchen or elaborate access to ingredients and staff. She plans to practice some of the old cook’s recipes, however, and hopes to have enough ready soon.”

  “I’m sure Mr. Whitaker will not mind a simple fare,” Darcy said. Not if the man was being given the opportunity to court Anne. He’d be a fool to let a simple meal ruin such a chance.

  “See to it, then,” Anne said, rising from the table.

  They all stood. “You’re retiring?” Elizabeth asked, looking worried.

  “I am tired,” Anne said. Ignoring the bows and curtsies directed at her, she slipped from the room.

  “I best go read to her,” Miss Kitty said. “She likes to be read to before she sleeps. Excuse me.”

  To Darcy’s surprise, Miss Kitty dropped a curtsy before hurrying away. It was pleasant to see the girl’s manners improving. What wasn’t pleasant was the silence that descended. Darcy wished his manner weren’t quite so refined, for he very much wanted to cut his dinner short too.

  The awkwardness between him and Elizabeth was straining, but fortunately didn’t last long. By the following day, she seemed herself once more. He wasn’t deluded into thinking that meant she’d come round to his line of reasoning or that she’d forgiven him. It was obvious she was perfectly willing to contain her displeasure for the sake of comradery. It pained him to think it, for he’d thought she was growing more fond of him, but such ease in ignoring a vehement disagreement with him must mean she didn’t care very much.

  Three days later, Mr. Whitaker came to dinner, after an enthusiastic acceptance of Darcy’s offer. Anne joined them before the meal began, seeming stronger but still frail. Although she’d requested the man, as far as Darcy could tell, she hadn’t taken any special care with hair or dress, but that could be due to the inexperience of her maid.

  As they entered the dining room, Anne took her place at the head of the table, seating Darcy to her right, as usual, and Mr. Whitaker to her left. Darcy was a bit surprised she hadn’t reverted to a more formal seating arrangement with a guest present, but he wasn’t about to complain. To his pleasure, even though it was a happiness underscored by pain, the addition to their seating arrangement placed Elizabeth beside him. Miss Kitty was seated across from her, on Mr. Whitaker’s left. Knowing his cousin had invited Mr. Whitaker so that she might come to know him better, Darcy felt he’d be free to devote most of his time to speaking with Elizabeth.

  “I hear you’ve been of great assistance to Rosings, Mr. Whitaker,” Anne said. “I would give you my thanks.”

  Whitaker ducked his head, looking respectably humble in the face of praise. “I was merely conducting myself as any considerate neighbor would.”

  “Still, not all were as conscientious as you,” Anne said.

  Darcy thought that was an understatement. Most hadn’t helped much at all and no one had done as much as Mr. Whitaker. He’d learned the man bore a familial sense of obligation to Rosings, but his efforts went above even the requirements of that.

  “As an outdoorsman, you must greatly esteem the Kent countryside,” Anne said.

  “I do,” Whitaker replied. “I know I have my bias, but no other part of our great country can rival the beauty of Kent.”

  “I am not much for the out-of-doors myself,” Anne said. “Miss Kitty, however, has been studying the bounty of our fair county.”

  “Have you, Miss Kitty?” Mr. Whitaker asked, taking his cue to turn to her.

  She looked up from her plate, obviously startled at being addressed. Darcy narrowed his gaze as Mr. Whitaker’s smile widened. He glanced at Elizabeth, who was watching the exchange closely.

  “I’ve been reading an awfully great deal about Kent’s birds and flowers,” Miss Kitty said.

  “And do you enjoy reading of them?” Whitaker asked.

  “Not really,” Miss Kitty said. Her eyes widened the moment the words left her mouth. She set down her spoon. “That is, I prefer to read tales of adventure. Descriptions of plants and birds are a bit . . .” She floundered, shooting a look across the table at Elizabeth. “I suppose it is nice to read what the flowers mean, in case anyone ever brings me any.”

  “Yes, it is,” Anne said, intervening. “Not to mention, as we’ve discussed, once you see the things you’ve been reading of, you’ll appreciate better what you’ve learned.”

  “But no one ever has time to walk with me,” Miss Kitty said. Her voice was a bit breathless, her eyes still on Mr. Whitaker, who hadn’t turned to Anne.

  “I promise to walk with you tomorrow, Kitty,” Elizabeth said.

 
; Whitaker turned a charming smile on Elizabeth. Darcy frowned at the man. Was he there to flirt with every young woman at the table?

  “I would be honored to join you both on your walk, if I may?” Whitaker said, his tone full of entreaty.

  Taking in the man’s charming smile, Darcy resolved that he would be on that walk as well, and any other walk which included Mr. Whitaker. He was not allowing Elizabeth to throw away her intelligence and beauty on a small landholder in a back corner of Kent. He’d thought he liked the man, but he wasn’t as sure now. Why did Whitaker have to be so damn affable, and look at Elizabeth like a hound begging for its favorite treat?

  “And we would be honored to have you, sir,” Elizabeth said, adding to Darcy’s ire.

  The meal continued in a like vein, Darcy saying little as Whitaker engaged both Miss Bennets. Later, as they all lingered over the remains of the dinner, he felt a gentle touch on his arm. Looking down, he realized Anne was trying to gain his attention and felt a stab of guilt. Seated beside her, he should have been attempting to entertain his cousin, not hanging on every word of Elizabeth’s conversation with Miss Kitty and Whitaker.

  “Don’t glower like that,” Anne said in a low voice. “You’ll scare him off.”

  Darcy eyed her. So, she hadn’t wanted Whitaker there for herself. She was playing matchmaker. Well, she could go play it with someone other than Elizabeth.

  “Do not interfere in this, Darcy,” Anne said. Her voice was still low, but held more steel than he’d ever heard her employ before. “This is my way of thanking her for her kindness.”

  Darcy sat back in his chair. He knew he was still frowning, but he couldn’t help himself. Why shouldn’t Elizabeth come away from her time in Rosings with a match? She must marry. All young women must. Who was he to stand in her way? Whitaker was a worthier gentleman than most.