Implacable Resentment

by Jann Rowland

  A commotion sounded behind him, and Darcy closed the door to Anne’s room and turned. He immediately noted the arrival of a man of middle years, tall and slender, with gray at his temples and streaking his hair.

  “Good day, sir,” said the man, greeting Fitzwilliam. “My name is Mayweather. I am the local apothecary.”

  The two cousins greeted the man and swiftly made him aware of the situation, including the argument, Lady Catherine’s assault on her daughter, and the state of the physician who they had attempted to summon. Mr. Mayweather grimaced at that last bit of information.

  “It is well that Mr. Douglas was not available. I have little respect for the man, and most of those in the village will not consent to be seen by him.”

  Darcy frowned. “Then what does he do here?”

  “He is your aunt’s personal physician,” said Mayweather with a significant look. “He tends to your cousin, and your aunt keeps him on.”

  The cousins exchanged looks, but in the interest of seeing to Anne as quickly as possible, the apothecary was shown into her bedchamber with alacrity.

  “What has happened here, Darcy?” asked Fitzwilliam when the man had gone. “I must own to being completely at sea.”

  “I do not know, cousin, but we shall get to the bottom of this.”

  It was a tense wait, for though they might not have been concerned in normal circumstances, Anne was of such delicate constitution that neither could state with a surety exactly what their aunt’s assault had wrought. The minutes seemed to drag on like hours, but it was actually only a very short time before the man emerged yet again.

  “Your cousin will be well,” stated he, forestalling any questions. “I have seen to her, and though I do not doubt that her cheek will give her pain, there should be nothing standing in the way of her making a full recovery. I have left a small amount of laudanum to be used should she be in pain, but I do not doubt she will be well. Or at least as well as she can be in this environment.”

  The apothecary paused, clearly troubled about something.

  Darcy motioned for him to continue. “You have something else to say?”

  “I found . . . certain unexplained bruises and the like on her person, though they were old, and most were only slight discolorations which were almost completely healed.”

  “Where?” demanded Darcy, certain that he had the proof he was looking for.

  “Her ribs, legs, arms. Virtually everywhere. The locations and number of them were not consistent of bumping into furniture or anything of the like. I hesitate to suggest such a thing, but it seems as if she has been mistreated.”

  “I will kill her!” snarled Fitzwilliam. Darcy was forced to grasp his cousin by his shoulders to keep him from leaving the room.

  “While I would like nothing better than to allow you to have a go at Lady Catherine, you need to keep a clear head, Fitzwilliam. There is nothing to be gained from further confronting the woman. We had best focus on removing Anne from this situation.”

  “Please do, sirs,” said Mr. Mayweather. “I believe I now understand why I was never allowed to examine Miss de Bourgh, though I rather suspect that part of it is because your aunt wished to have someone who would agree with her opinions without delay. I am sorry to speak of your relation in such a manner.”

  “Believe me, Mr. Mayweather, your thoughts are much more innocuous than mine,” said Fitzwilliam.

  “Very well,” said the apothecary. It was clear that though he was happy to have been of service, he did not wish to stay and witness the aftermath. “I shall take my leave. Please have me called if something else should develop. And please, for your cousin’s sake, remove her from this place. A proper physician could likely do wonders for her.”

  Thanking him, Darcy saw him to the door, promising that they would indeed change Anne’s circumstances. In another moment, they were alone, and Fitzwilliam looked at Darcy with anger.

  “You knew.”

  “Not until I spoke with our aunt after her actions,” said Darcy. “She would not confirm anything, and as such it was more of a strong suspicion than anything else, though I will own that I had little doubt.”

  Fitzwilliam raked his hands though his hair and slumped down on the sofa. “We’ve failed her, Darcy. How could we have come here every year without noticing this?”

  “I rather suspect that our aunt has been a little more circumspect than this,” said Darcy. “Regardless, let us wait until Anne awakes for more information concerning the matter, shall we?”

  As it was, they had several hours to wait before Anne was to wake. During that time, the two men tried to pass the time with conversation and discussions about the future, but inevitably their thoughts would return to the events of the day, and they would lapse into silence. Fitzwilliam asked him about Elizabeth, and tried to convince him to go to the parsonage, but Darcy refused, stating that he was needed here. He loved Elizabeth Bennet, but he was also aware of her abilities. He was not concerned for her, though he did take Fitzwilliam’s suggestion and wrote a short note to be delivered to the parsonage. He wrote little more than that he had been delayed at Rosings, but he did not doubt that she would understand. He would visit her as early as possible the following morning, and see to her disposition and removal from the area.

  At length, however, Anne did wake, and he and Fitzwilliam were summoned into her room by the maid. Anne was propped up against the head of the bed by a copious number of cushions, and though she moved her head and grimaced a little at the pain she was obviously experiencing, she appeared alert and not a little angry.

  Dismissing the maid—not wishing for any part of their conversation to be overheard—Darcy turned to where Fitzwilliam had already taken a seat beside her bed, eagerly leaning toward his cousin. “Are you well, Anne?”

  As Anne replied to the colonel that she was as well as could be expected, Darcy once again watched the two of them, alert for anything in their interactions which would betray a closer tie than mere cousins. And though Fitzwilliam was eager, Anne appeared shy and reserved, which was certainly not unusual for her. Still, Darcy felt that there was enough to be seen that his hastily conceived plan might have more than a little possibility of success.

  “Anne, I have two questions for you,” said Darcy as he approached the bed. “First, how long your mother has mistreated you? Second, why did you never tell any of us?”

  Anne’s slightly shameful look told Darcy all he needed to know. Fitzwilliam’s reaction was, by contrast, an instant reddening of his countenance and a set to his jaw which told Darcy that he was contemplating murder.

  “Peace, Fitzwilliam,” said Darcy as he crossed the room and sat on the edge of Anne’s bed. “I have already sent an express to your father. Unless there is something occurring in London which prevents it, I expect he will be here tomorrow. At that time, he can confront Lady Catherine as the head of the family. For now, I wish to understand more of what has happened here.”

  “Well, Anne?” asked Fitzwilliam, focusing his attention upon her. “We are waiting.”

  “It is not as bad as all that,” said Anne, though in a hesitant voice. “My mother has always insisted upon her will being followed to the letter, and she has been willing to enforce her commands. When I was a child, it was a rap on the mouth with her knuckles. As I became older, such punishment became more sporadic, though occasionally crueler. She has never slapped me as she did today, which is why I was so astonished.”

  As she said this, Anne’s hand rose to her face, and she touched her bruised cheek, only to pull her hand away with a wince.

  “As long as I obey and speak in what my mother considers to be a pleasing manner, I have little to fear from her.”

  “Then what of the signs of bruising that the apothecary found on you?”

  Anne appeared surprised at that. “My mother consented to allow Mr. Mayweather to see me?”

  “She had little choice,” growled Darcy. “I confined her to her rooms after Fitzwilliam t
ook you away. Fitzwilliam sent for the doctor, but when he was found to be in his cups, we had to look elsewhere for medical assistance.”

  Nodding, Anne said, “Mr. Douglas’s services are generally not required when you are in residence, as my mother does not wish you to see me in anything other than the best light. But when you are not here, he knows only to imbibe at night, as he is not likely to be called in to attend me.” Anne barked a laugh that was devoid of amusement. “Mother does so like to have things ordered according to her schedule. Heaven forbid that I should actually fall ill at night when she is sleeping.”

  “The signs of mistreatment?” prompted Darcy.

  “After your last visit here and your refusal to bow to her whims, my mother was incensed,” said Anne after some hesitation. Darcy stared at her with chagrin, knowing she meant to protect him from his own self-recrimination. “I generally agree with her in order to keep her claws retracted, but that did not always work. She would berate me, blame me for not being pretty enough to entice you, claim that I made no effort to secure you. She would pinch me, slap my hands, grasp my arm and drag me about, showing me what I must do to catch you.”

  “Oh, Anne, I am sorry,” said Darcy.

  Anne only waved him off. “I never told anyone, partly because I was ashamed.”

  “Never be ashamed of another’s mistreatment of you,” said Fitzwilliam, “especially when it is one who should have your best interests at heart.”

  Nodding her head, Anne looked on them both gratefully, though Darcy thought they had done little to deserve it. “As the months passed, her treatment gradually slowed, and we had settled down into our typical indifference by November. But then that little parson arrived with his wife in tow, and you followed soon after.” Anne paused for a moment, considering her words, before she looked up at Darcy. “My mother was instantly suspicious, Darcy, though I do not think she ever knew the extent of your regard for Miss Bennet.

  “I then made the mistake of telling her that I did not wish to marry you,” said Anne in a quiet voice. “The faded bruises that the apothecary saw were a result of that bit of defiance.”

  “Annie, you know that we would have protected you, had we known,” said Fitzwilliam.

  “I know,” replied Anne with a sigh.

  “Then why the blazes did you not say something?”

  “I believe that we should concentrate on what is to be done now,” said Darcy. “There will be time enough for self-recrimination after Anne is removed from this house.”

  “I was planning to ask you to take me with you when you left,” said Anne, looking down at her hands. “I wish to see a physician in London, that I might learn whether there is anything that can be done for me.”

  “I believe that can be arranged,” said Darcy with a smile. He then paused and looked at his cousins, trying to decide how much to say. Given the situation, it seemed as if there was not much point in staying silent. “I have another question. How long have you both had feelings for each other?”

  Their reactions were a revelation, for though Fitzwilliam looked at Darcy as if he was daft, Anne actually blushed and looked away.

  “Of what are you speaking, Darcy?” demanded Fitzwilliam.

  “Anne?” asked Darcy, ignoring his other cousin for the moment.

  Anne glanced at Fitzwilliam for a moment, her manner shy and unsure. “I have always known that you and I you do not suit each other, Darcy. But Fitzwilliam is garrulous and happy, his manner far different from our reserved natures.”

  “Of that, I am aware, Anne,” said Darcy with some amusement.

  “Come now,” exclaimed Fitzwilliam, “I shall thank you not to speak of me as if I was not here.”

  “Then let us speak with you, by all means,” said Darcy, turning to Fitzwilliam. “What are your feelings for Anne?”

  Fitzwilliam gaped at him. “Who are you, and where is my cousin? Can it truly be that Fitzwilliam Darcy is playing matchmaker?”

  Darcy glared pointedly at his cousin. “Is Anne not eligible?”

  “Highly eligible,” growled Fitzwilliam. “But I should not like put her in the same position as that which we are trying to remove her from.”

  “And if she is willing?”

  “Now I shall thank you both not to speak of me as if I was not here,” said Anne, though the starkness of her words was belied by the hint of a smile appearing at her lips.

  “The fact of the matter is—”

  “Of the facts, as you say,” said Darcy, interrupting his cousin, “only a few are important. First, Anne requires protection from her mother. You may amply provide that. Second, you require a woman of fortune, and unless you are hiding her somewhere,” Fitzwilliam glared at him, but Darcy ignored the look, “you have not managed to find one in your thirty years of life. Finally, unless I am very much mistaken, you would not be opposed to it on the grounds that it is Anne, much as she does not oppose the thought of being married to you.”

  “And what of Lady Catherine?”

  “What of her? We are already set on defying her. Is this matter any different?”

  “Will Anne lose her inheritance?”

  “While I cannot state such with any surety, I do not believe that Anne is anything other than her father’s heir.” When both Anne and Fitzwilliam were silent, Darcy pressed forward. “It would behoove you both to consider it. Not only would it resolve several problems, but if what I am seeing before me is any indication, I do not doubt that you would do well together. I will leave you to speak of it, if you require a little time.”

  “Perhaps a little time would be desirable,” said Fitzwilliam. “But regardless, Anne goes to London tomorrow.”

  “I would not have it any other way,” said Darcy.

  “Thank you, Darcy,” said Anne in a quiet tone.

  “You are welcome, cousin,” replied Darcy. “But in the future, I expect to be consulted should you require assistance.”

  Anne nodded, seeming happy for the first time in Darcy’s memory. “I should like to see your Elizabeth again. She is confident and determined, two traits that I lack. I believe I have much to learn from her.”

  “I am certain she would be happy to deepen your acquaintance. I know I would be happy to be in a position to make her a part of your life in perpetuity.”

  “In that case, you had best go and secure her,” said Fitzwilliam.

  With a slight nod, Darcy excused himself in order to allow his cousins to have their long overdue talk. His thoughts immediately went to Elizabeth. A quick check of his pocket watch revealed that it was already approaching the time to retire, and though Darcy wanted nothing more than to ensure for himself that she was well, he knew that it would be difficult to show up at such an hour. Instead, he resolved on going to the parsonage early the next morning.

  Thus, he arose early the next morning and after a quick consultation with Fitzwilliam, he made his way to the stables and then rode to the parsonage. According to Fitzwilliam, the discussion between him and Anne had been a success, though they both decided that they would take proceed slowly in order to become accustomed to their new situation. Darcy wished them well.

  When Darcy arrived at the parsonage, he dismounted, tied his horse to a nearby fence, and approached the door, conscious of the fact that it was still much too early for a courtesy call. But he had stayed away long enough. He did not doubt that Collins would wish to remove Miss Bennet from Hunsford as soon as possible, and if Darcy was to make the arrangements himself, he would need to ensure that his voice was heard immediately. There was no telling what an idiot such as William Collins would do should he be left to his own devices.

  Darcy’s knock on the door went unanswered for several moments, and he was beginning to become worried when the door finally opened and the timid face of one of the maids appeared in the open space.

  “Mr. Darcy here to see Mr. Collins and Miss Bennet,” said he.

  The maid looked about nervously before she replied, “They are not her
e, Mr. Darcy.”

  Surprised, Darcy stared back at her. “Not here?”

  “They left very early this morning for Miss Bennet’s home in Hertfordshire. Mr. Collins declared that he would not have her in his home for one minute longer than necessary.”

  “When did they depart?”

  “More than an hour ago, sir.”

  “Thank you,” said Darcy. He turned and swiftly made his way back to Rosings. A quick change of clothes and a word with Fitzwilliam—who said that he gladly would take care of Anne until the earl arrived—and then Darcy was on his way to Hertfordshire.

  Chapter XXVIII

  If Elizabeth had thought the previous journey to Kent was uncomfortable, it was nothing compared to the insufferable return to Hertfordshire. Mr. Collins sat in the seat next to her in all his injured silence, intent upon ignoring her. Yet at the same time, his silence seemed to accuse her, for he continually flayed her with his injured glances and displayed his ill-used countenance for her to see.

  It was made worse by the fact that Mr. Collins insisted upon taking her the entire way to Longbourn in his two-wheeled and uncovered gig, which was not truly meant for such a journey. Had the season been warmer and the day fine, she might have been able to ignore the man completely and enjoy the scenery as it sped by, but the day had dawned gray, with low clouds threatening snow, and the air held a distinct chill, like winter was finally upon them. Mr. Collins, of course, did not seem to feel the chill of the air; Elizabeth suspected that he was warmed by the force of his self-righteous anger.

  Elizabeth attempted to prevail upon him to stop in London and leave her at the Gardiners’ residence, but she was no more successful in this appeal than in anything else she requested that morning.

  “It would shorten your journey by half, sir,” said Elizabeth, attempting to induce him to see reason.