The Darcy Cousins

by Monica Fairview

  At her words, Robert Darcy came to his feet immediately, anger written all over his face.

  “Now you are going too far, Lady Catherine. You forget that she is my sister.”

  “I forget nothing, Mr Robert Darcy. And I meant every word I said.”

  “Enough, Aunt,” said Darcy, springing to his feet as well. “You are overwrought and do not know what you are saying. We will make allowances, given the unfortunate events that have recently transpired. But you cannot speak to my cousin in this manner.”

  “I will speak as I wish under my own roof!” replied Lady Catherine. “I do not need my sister’s child to tell me how or how not to conduct myself. I hope you will not be foolish enough to continue in your defence of a young girl who has had only one goal since she arrived, and that is to turn my own daughter against me.”

  Darcy’s face darkened. “Come, Lady Catherine,” he said, maintaining control over his temper with difficulty. “Surely you do not mean to suggest that a mere child of seventeen could have such an influence over a lady of twenty-nine? If Anne is really so easy to persuade, then you can hardly blame Clarissa for it. It is patently absurd to suggest such a thing.”

  Lady Catherine stared coldly at Darcy.

  “I am not accustomed to being addressed in this manner. I resent it exceedingly,” she said. “You will cease your support of this unruly child at once.”

  “I have no intention of doing so,” said Darcy, “Once again, Lady Catherine, these are exceptional circumstances. I am sure that in the normal course of things, you would realise that a mountain is being made out of a molehill. I suggest that we wait until tomorrow. By then, the whole thing will have blown over.”

  “I have given you my warning, Darcy,” said Lady Catherine relentlessly. “As long as you continue to support the person who is responsible for my current unhappiness, then you leave me no choice in the matter. Do you withdraw your support?”

  “No,” said Darcy.

  Her ladyship paused to take a deep breath, then announced, “You will see that I am perfectly capable of being reasonable. I will not require you to leave tonight. You will all arrange to leave Rosings by tomorrow morning.”

  Chapter 13

  Clarissa and Georgiana tried not to make their pleasure at leaving Rosings too apparent. For Georgiana, perhaps, the task was a little easier, for she was more accustomed to restraining herself. In vain, however, did she remonstrate with Clarissa, who ran excitedly down the stairs of the house and danced a jig as soon as they were outdoors, though they could have been easily seen through the tall windows.

  “I know, I know, Georgiana, I ought not to be happy. Not when I caused a rift between my family and Lady Catherine. I feel terrible about that. And I feel even worse about Anne’s situation. My feelings are no reflection on her, I assure you. I’m consumed with worry about her. But I shall be so glad to go away. Anywhere in the world would be better.”

  She twirled round, stretching her arms out above her and looking up at the sky.

  “I will be so glad to leave! You have no idea how much I have loathed living in this house, where I have been trapped since I arrived from Boston. If only I had never come! I have been on the verge of melancholy since the day I arrived. I certainly would have understood Anne if she had decided to drown herself in a pond. I was quite ready to do it myself.”

  Georgiana was shocked by Clarissa’s statement. Even the fact that she could think that way horrified her. “You must never say things like that! You know you cannot possibly mean them.”

  “But I do mean them. Not the part about the pond, perhaps, but about the melancholy.” She paused and stared into the distance. “You really do not know how it has been for me. At least at the beginning, I had Frederick here, and I could talk to him. But now he has gone, and I do not know when I will see him again. I really miss him.”

  Georgiana understood Clarissa’s sentiments very well, for she had missed her brother for years, longing for the holidays to come so she could be reunited with him.

  “It will become easier, with the passage of time,” said Georgiana. She hesitated, then added shyly, “And I hope you will come to see me as a sister one day, as I already see you.”

  With that Clarissa threw her arms around Georgiana, and, embracing her tightly, said she need not fear, for she already thought of her as not only a sister but a friend.

  ***

  The young ladies would not have felt quite so guilty about being happy to leave if they had heard Elizabeth speak to Darcy. Elizabeth was another person who was only too glad to be expelled from Lady Catherine’s presence. For, as she told her husband later, she had had the most difficult time reining in her temper on several occasions.

  “You have not heard half the things she said to me,” said Elizabeth, all the petty moments surfacing now that she was free to express them. “Would you believe that she told me the boy was ill-favoured because he did not resemble the Darcy side of the family?”

  Darcy’s indignation at his aunt’s behaviour rose rapidly to new heights.

  “And listen to this,” said Elizabeth, her eyes dancing now in anticipation of Darcy’s reaction. “She told me that the name Lewis was not worthy of the dignity of an old family like the Darcys!”

  “What?” said Darcy. “When I especially chose this name to honour Sir Lewis with an eye to appease my aunt?”

  “I know. Really, Darcy, we are well out of here. I am glad, in a way, that this incident with Clarissa occurred. It was unfortunate for Clarissa, of course, but it was time we left, and you could never have left Rosings as long as Anne’s fate was undetermined.”

  “Of course not,” said Darcy. “But I cannot be happy about this schism. I am very reluctant to leave my aunt to her own devices under the circumstances.”

  “It is for the better,” said Elizabeth firmly. “In London you can engage the services of someone who can make discreet enquiries. You cannot engage the services of the Bow Street Runners without evoking a scandal, but some quiet questions in the right places from someone with experience in matters of this kind may well help us uncover the truth.”

  “You may be right,” replied Darcy. “In any case, I can help you settle in London, and if nothing else can be unearthed, I will return here. My aunt will not turn me away, I am sure, particularly if I am here to help. With Robert and Caroline in London as well, you will not miss my company overmuch.”

  At this Elizabeth protested, stating archly that she would miss his company very much, but she understood well enough that he preferred Lady Catherine’s company to her own.

  ***

  The Darcys departed for London the next day without much ado. Lady Catherine did not emerge from her chamber at the last moment—as the young ladies had feared—miraculously contrite and begging them to stay.

  “Though I had half hoped she would,” whispered Clarissa, as their carriage rumbled down the long entrance and she knew they were safely away. “I would have felt better about the whole thing then.”

  As they passed the Hunsford parsonage, they caught a glimpse of Mr Collins, his nose pressed to the window.

  “If it were not so early,” said Elizabeth, with a half smile, “he would be running to Rosings by now to find out the reason for our early departure.”

  “Oh, he is quite capable of setting out for Rosings without even noticing the time,” said Darcy.

  Georgiana’s pleasure in leaving Rosings would have been much stronger if it were not for two factors. The first was her anxiety over her cousin. She tried not to think of Anne locked up in some darkened room, left to her own devices, deprived of all forms of comfort. How would someone as delicate as she survive if treated brutally? Would her abductors realise that she was sickly and that she needed to be kept warm? Would they even care? Suppose she were to die as a result of their neglect?

  The second was the knowledge
that her fate and her cousin’s hung in the balance. For what everyone knew, but no one mentioned, was that it would be impossible for the young ladies to fling themselves into the social activity in London until Anne was found. For Georgiana, whose Season had already been delayed one year because of the baby, the thought that it could be delayed once again weighed heavily on her spirits.

  All this she expressed in a half-whisper to Clarissa, since Darcy and Elizabeth had long since drifted into their own private conversation.

  “I have prayed and prayed that she is safe,” said Georgiana. “And I do hope Lady Catherine was wrong, and that it is not our fault that she was abducted.”

  “I am trying my best not to think about it all the time,” said Clarissa, “but my mind seems to be coming up with more and more gruesome possibilities. As for feeling guilty—how could I not feel responsible? Even if Lady Catherine had not made a point of it, I would have felt very uncomfortable about our role in this whole calamity. Of course, Lady Catherine made sure to put the blame squarely on us.”

  The two ladies were silent, each struggling in her own way to deal with her qualms of conscience.

  “But sometimes I wonder if your brother was right. If Anne—who is much older than us—chose to follow our advice, are we really so much at fault? Are we really responsible for the actions of a woman over ten years our senior?”

  Despite her protestations, however, she sank into a gloomy silence, and sat staring absently out of the window. Georgiana too sank into gloom. Whatever way one viewed it, Anne’s disappearance was nothing short of a nightmare.

  Even Anne’s situation, however, was not enough to quell their spirits as the carriage rolled into London, and the hustle and bustle of Town overwhelmed their senses. A more extreme contrast to Rosings could not be found. The motley cries—newspaper boys, knife grinders, chimney sweeps—the streams of conveyances—carts overloaded with vegetables jostling for position with shining yellow barouches—the hoards of people—the costermongers, the bands of charity school children, the porters, the fashionable ladies, the merchants. They had entered a different land.

  Once in London, they separated. Georgiana went to her home in Berkeley Square, while Clarissa lodged with Robert and Caroline in Grosvenor Street.

  “’Tis the first time I will be alone with Caroline and Robert since I arrived here,” said Clarissa. “I hope it will go well and that you and I will not be prevented from visiting each other by our separate lives.”

  There was no need for her to fear a separation. It was not long before they were thrown constantly together again.

  For despite the uncertainty surrounding Anne, a decision was made by the guardians to start with some of the preparations, which at the very least should include acquiring an appropriate wardrobe. No one said anything directly to either of the young ladies. But the rounds of shopping began. For a young lady who wishes to attract a husband must be in possession of everything fashion dictates she should have.

  Caroline, whose taste in clothing was well established, soon took over the task of escorting the young ladies to the modiste, for Elizabeth quickly tired of the task, and with the excuse of keeping an eye on baby Lewis, laughingly absolved herself of all responsibility.

  “For you must know that I scarcely know one end of a pattern from the other and have barely the patience to let myself be fitted for a gown, let alone spend hours surrounded by chattering debutantes who can never make up their minds about anything.”

  “Oh, I do not mean you,” she remarked as almost identical expressions of dismay appeared on their faces. “You are very decided on what you want and are far quicker at choosing than any young ladies I have met. But we are never alone, not at this time of the year. I do not enjoy finding myself with debutantes who giggle and gossip and disparage everyone around them, while you are busy being fitted. In any case, I am sure you are in far better hands with Caroline, who has always had superior taste.”

  Elizabeth would have been surprised to know that it was not Caroline, in fact, who guided Georgiana’s taste, but Clarissa, and that it was she who approved or disapproved Georgiana’s choices.

  Nevertheless, in the midst of shopping expeditions and an endless succession of fittings, Georgiana found a grey shadow inside her, a constant reminder that something was wrong. It was there even when she laughed and wondered at the new self that was emerging in the mirror. But most of all, it emerged at night, when she was haunted with all kinds of fears about her cousin Anne’s fate.

  ***

  News came one morning, when Mr Darcy, who made it his habit while in Town to go over his business in the mornings with his secretary, was looking over some accounts that had been presented to him. The morning caller—a non-descript gentleman of average height and ordinary clothing—called at an unusually early time of the day, which immediately aroused Elizabeth’s suspicion. He remained closeted with Mr Darcy for such a long time that Elizabeth had to prevent herself any number of times from inventing an excuse to scratch at the door and enter. A few minutes later, Georgiana, who had heard the visitor arrive, came down to enquire if there was any news. The two women stood waiting impatiently in the hallway for the visitor to leave.

  After what seemed like hours, Mr Darcy emerged and accompanied the caller to the door.

  “You will send me news by express if you hear anything at all, no matter how trivial,” he said.

  From his tone, Georgiana quickly surmised that the news was not all bad. Elizabeth let out a breath she did not know she was holding.

  As the door closed behind their visitor, Mr Darcy turned and frowned at them.

  “Surely you have not been waiting all this time in the hallway?” he said. “I hope you, at least, Georgiana, did not stoop to eavesdropping. I would not put it beyond Elizabeth however.”

  Elizabeth answered his frown with one of her own. Georgiana came to Elizabeth’s defence and reproached her brother with mock severity for impeaching them without any proof.

  Darcy gestured to them to enter the library.

  “Well, are you going to tell us, or do you propose to keep us in suspense all morning?” said Elizabeth.

  “The news is good,” he said, shutting the door firmly behind him. “At least, we know that until a few days ago she was alive and well, and we know that she was not abducted.”

  Georgiana wanted to cheer. She had never heard better news in her life.

  “So she has been found?” asked Elizabeth.

  “We have not been so fortunate. But we have managed to follow a trail of hers. She travelled north toward York, where she stayed a few days, apparently with friends, for there was no news of her at any of the inns. She was then seen travelling further north in the company of a young gentleman and a servant. Her trail now has been lost, but we are hoping to pick it up again soon. It may well be that she is heading for the border.”

  “An elopement?” said Georgiana in shock.

  “I am glad that she is alive at least and not in any immediate danger,” said Elizabeth. “Did your sources say whether she was travelling of her own volition, or was she being forced?”

  “Everything indicates that she is travelling of her own volition, though it is too soon to be sure.”

  “Why, then, did she not leave a note informing us of her intentions?” said Georgiana.

  “I can only surmise that she does not wish to be found,” said Darcy grimly.

  There was, however, still the possibility that she was being coerced into marriage by some ruthless fortune seeker and that she was in need of rescue. Through some contacts of Colonel Fitzwilliam, men were dispatched quickly north to watch North Road and to intercept Anne if she tried to reach the border.

  A rider was also sent out with an express to deliver to Lady Catherine. The rider returned the next day, however, with Darcy’s letter unopened.

  Georgiana had not seen he
r brother so borne down by emotion since the unfortunate incident with Wickham four years ago.

  “Is there no end to my aunt’s folly? Does she not wish to hear news of her daughter? Does she think pride more important than her daughter’s safety? At times like this, I cannot believe that Lady Catherine could bear any relation to my mother, who was so gentle—”

  Elizabeth interrupted this futile torrent of words by laying her hand on his arm. He stopped and turned to her, as he always did, with a half smile. They moved away together, leaving Georgiana alone in the hallway.

  ***

  The news of Anne’s sighting brought Georgiana enormous relief. The grey shadow that had dogged her as she went about her preparations dissipated, along with the nagging guilt she felt about continuing with her life as if Anne had never existed. Anne was safe. That alone was enough to bring more of a spring into Georgiana’s step. She could set aside nightmarish images of Anne’s death. She was alive and in no physical danger.

  With the issue of Anne’s safety now resolved, they could finally start to plan for the Season.

  Both Darcy families gathered in Berkley Square to discuss the matter. The situation was very delicate, argued Caroline, who was generally Elizabeth’s guide in matters of etiquette. However one looked at it, they needed to tread carefully. It was only too easy to draw the disapproval of society, who would relish the smallest whiff of scandal related to Lady Catherine, who had always put on airs and consequently alienated a great number of people in London society.

  Clearly it would be too heartless for the young women to be launched into full-scale festivities when no one knew yet exactly what had happened to Anne. It was one thing to know definitively that she had eloped of her own volition, another entirely to have the issue still unresolved. From this perspective, it would be wiser to keep the young ladies’ activities limited, in case something unexpected occurred and they were forced to withdraw.

  The other aspect that had to be considered was the elopement itself. If Anne had indeed eloped, then what would happen when the news broke out? Unless there was a serious attempt made to keep it quiet, then it would sooner or later become the subject of scurrilous gossip. How would it then affect the young debutantes’ chances for marriage? This seemed yet another reason to limit the scope of their introduction until matters were clearer. The fewer the people were who knew the young ladies, the less impact the widespread knowledge of an elopement could have on them.