by J P Christy
However, as Darcy had observed when he held her to his heart on Oakham Mount, “We all have regrets about certain of our relatives, yet I cannot find it in me to condemn the household that produced a lady as delightful as yourself. Perhaps it was the unfairness you experienced that made you such a passionate defender of others whom you feel have been treated unkindly.”
“Make a virtue of my rude behaviors, by all means,” Elizabeth said with a delightful laugh. “My good qualities are under your protection, and you are to exaggerate them as much as possible!”
≈≈≈
July 29, 1811
On Monday morning at Lucas Lodge, Collins was already eating when Lady Lucas entered the breakfast room. As usual, he had taken the chair beside hers; he rose when she entered and remained standing while she filled her plate at the sideboard, knowing she enjoyed this little courtesy. After settling herself at the head of the table, she asked, “Have you any news of your patroness?”
“I have not heard from Lady Catherine since she and Miss De Bourgh went to Bath. After the Meryton assembly, I wrote her there, but I have not received a reply.”
“Would she still be in Bath? The season ended a month ago.”
“Did it? I confess I do not have a good memory for such things. Still, I have not heard from Charlotte that Lady Catherine is back at Rosings.”
“Does her ladyship have another residence besides Rosings and the place in Bath?”
Collins contemplated this. “There is a townhouse in London. The direction is in my diary.”
“The season in London does not commence for two months or so. Still, Lady Catherine could be in town having new gowns made. I suggest you consider writing her there.”
≈≈≈
August 3, 1811
It was several days later, for Collins was not inclined to send an express when he did not know whether the addressee was in residence, the parson’s letter arrived at De Bourgh House in London. From there, it was forwarded to Rosings.
Since returning to her estate in Kent, Lady Catherine had become ever more critical and ever more desperate to control her domain. The servants responded nervously to her ladyships new demands, including that her bedroom be dusted twice a day and that more elaborate meals be served, although her ladyship was the sole diner. Several servants began making discreet inquiries about employment opportunities elsewhere.
Lady Catherine was having tea in her morning room when a footman delivered the redirected letter from Collins. Expecting to learn no useful or interesting news, her ladyship skimmed the pages of his missive, which was filled with vapid praise of and good wishes for her ladyship and Anne. He also wrote several paragraphs discussing his disapproval of Darcy’s recent engagement to Elizabeth Bennet and his unsuccessful attempts to thwart it. However, a sentence in the middle of the third page caught her attention: Colonel Fitzwilliam was with Darcy in Hertfordshire near the town of Meryton.
Immediately, Lady Catherine sent Mrs. Collins an invitation to tea. Counterfeiting a happy expression, Charlotte reluctantly came to call, but the greeting she received was a scold. “Good day, Mrs. Collins. I expected you to visit yesterday.”
“My apologies, my lady. I had planned to call upon you tomorrow, as I wished to give you ample time to rest after your journey from Bath.” She knew from servants’ gossip that her ladyship had arrived at Rosings in high dudgeon—and alone.
“I have just returned from London, where I spent several weeks. I thought you knew.”
“No, madam. If you told your travel plans to my husband, he did not share them.”
“I do not recall,” Lady Catherine lied, well aware she had not corresponded with the Collinses since leaving for Bath. “Why are you at the parsonage alone?”
“As most of my family are in Brighton, Mr. Collins remains at Lucas Lodge, where he is a great comfort to my mother. Also, Mr. Bennet has been indisposed, so my husband feels he should stay near to assist the family as needed. I, however, have returned, as I enjoy my comfortable home. For that, I must thank you.”
“In Hertfordshire, did you encounter my nephews?”
“Yes, madam. Mr. Darcy has leased a residence there, Purvis Lodge. However, I only saw him and Miss Darcy on my occasional visits to Mr. and Mrs. Bingley at Netherfield Park.”
“Why did Darcy lease a place in Hertfordshire?”
Oh dear, what does she know? What does she think I know? Nervously, Charlotte said, “Just before I left Hertfordshire, I learned Mr. Darcy was engaged to Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”
“So I read in the letter I received from Mr. Collins today. What of my nephew Christopher Fitzwilliam? Did you see him, as well?”
“Yes, the colonel is staying at Purvis Lodge, as is Miss Darcy.”
“Is there aught else I should know?” Lady Catherine gave her a stern look.
Warily, Charlotte said, “I wish to share my good news with you, your ladyship. I am increasing, and my child—that is, Mr. Collins’s and my child—will be born in November.”
Lady Catherine’s frowned. “Madam, I was inquiring about important news, matters regarding my own family.”
Ah, not my unimportant pregnancy. Charlotte struggled to keep the irritation out of her voice when she said, “I have no such news, madam, but I shall write Mr. Collins and ask if he has any.” To the relief of both ladies, their visit ended soon after, and before the day’s end, Charlotte had sent a letter advising her husband that his patroness had returned to Rosings.
≈≈≈
August 5, 1811
Over tea and cake at Purvis Lodge, Georgiana, Anne, and Mrs. Jenkinson were making suggestions to Kitty as she sketched dresses for Mary and Elizabeth to wear at their weddings. “Has Mr. Ainsworth proposed to Mary yet?” Georgiana asked.
“He is waiting until he has a parsonage,” Kitty said.
Mrs. Jenkinson asked, “Do your sisters know you are making these lovely designs?” She was aware that Mrs. Bennet, Elizabeth, Mary were currently discussing wedding plans with Jane.
Before Kitty could answer, Anne jumped to her feet, her face tense with fear. “It is Mama’s coach!” she exclaimed in a panicked voice. Georgiana and Kitty ran to one of the room’s large windows and saw a large, black carriage approaching in the near distance.
Mrs. Jenkinson hugged Anne fiercely. “We will protect you!”
“I will fetch Brother and Christopher!” Georgiana left, closing the door behind her.
“And I will show you what makes Purvis Lodge special,” Kitty said. On either side of the fireplace were large oak panels decorated with hand-sized carvings of roses; she ran to the panel on the left side and pressed her palm against one carved rose. Nothing happened. Giving the other ladies a worried glance, she said, “I fear this hidden door has gone unused for too long.”
Upon hearing Lady Catherine’s carriage roll to a stop at the portico, Mrs. Jenkinson joined Kitty. “Show me what to do; perhaps there is a door in the opposite panel.”
“When you apply pressure to the right rose, the panel opens.”
“Press every rose! I will try the other panel.”
The knocker on the front door of Lucas Lodge sounded.
Mrs. Jenkinson looked at Anne, who was frozen in place, and when their eyes met, it was if a spell was broken. Anne ran to help Mrs. Jenkinson apply pressure to the carved roses.
Suddenly on Kitty’s side, there was the “click” of a latch releasing. As Kitty pulled with all her strength, the oak panel groaned open just enough for Anne and Mrs. Jenkinson to hurry into a narrow, unlighted corridor. With all the ladies pushing from their respective sides, the panel slid closed again.
Mere moments later, the door to the drawing room was opened vigorously by Lady Catherine, closely followed by an annoyed-looking Darcy. After her ladyship scolded the butler for moving so slowly, she entered and looked around. Noticing Kitty, the room’s only occupant, she demanded, “Who are you?”
Sitting in a chair, her sketchbook in her lap, Kit
ty rose and curtsied. “I am Katherine Bennet, madam. I am a friend of Miss Darcy’s.” Her heart was pounding and she felt dizzy, but by clutch-ing her sketchbook, she kept her hands from trembling.
“Heavens, are you related to that upstart Elizabeth?”
“She is my sister, madam. Might I know to whom I have the pleasure of speaking?” she asked in a clear, albeit, soft voice.
Brava, Kitty! Darcy allowed himself a small smile before making introductions. “Lady Catherine De Bourgh, may I present Miss Katherine Bennet.”
“Why are you alone in this room? Where is Georgiana?”
“She went to fetch Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam when she saw your carriage.”
Striding briskly into the room, Fitzwilliam arrived just a step ahead of Georgiana; his bearing indicated he was ready for battle. “Good day, Aunt Catherine.”
“What have you done with my daughter, Christopher?”
“Rescued her.”
“I demand to know where Anne is!”
“She is safe and well,” Darcy said.
“And happy!” Georgiana said. Skirting her aunt, she moved to stand beside Kitty.
Fitzwilliam added, “Indeed. I doubt you would recognize her; being among friends has revived her spirits greatly.”
Dismissing him with a wave, Lady Catherine turned to Darcy. “I insist you tell me where Anne is. I know deception of any kind is abhorrent to you, so I expect an honest answer.”
Darcy circled the room as if looking for his cousin. Then, with a shrug, he said, “I do not know her current location, but I assure you that if I did know, I would not tell you.”
“I am within my rights to have this pile searched! My daughter has been abducted!”
“You have no such rights here,” Darcy said in steely tones.
“Nor was Anne abducted,” Fitzwilliam said firmly.
Examining the faces of her family members, Lady Catherine was annoyed to note that even timid Georgiana managed to meet her gaze with a defiant look. “Very well. I expect you to convey this message. I shall give Anne one month from today to return from wherever she is hiding. If she is still missing at the end of that time, I will tell the world she was kidnapped and offer a reward—paid by the estate—for her return. Perhaps she thinks she will wait to reveal herself after my death. But if she remains gone for one year, I will have her declared dead.”
“And if Anne returns within a month, what are your plans for her?” Darcy asked.
“She must marry. If she does not, I will have her declared non compos mentis. As a madwoman, she will have no control over her inheritance—which includes Rosings.”
“It is you who are behaving like a madwoman!” Fitzwilliam exclaimed.
“One month from today.” Lady Catherine swept out the room as if she held all the best cards in a high-stakes game.
Georgiana ran to the window. “She is getting into her carriage . . . and now it goes down the drive. I feared she might try to trick us into thinking she had left, but she is truly gone.”
Fitzwilliam gave a relieved sigh. “I expected worse from her.”
“Where are Anne and Mrs. Jenkinson?” Darcy asked.
Kitty crossed to the fireplace. “Does it open from your side?”
The slightly muffled voice of Mrs. Jenkinson said, “The carvings on the panel let in a little light—yes, I believe I have my hand on the release.” A moment later, there was a quiet click, and Kitty helped pull the panel open from her side.
Mrs. Jenkinson emerged, followed by Anne, who exclaimed. “Kitty, you saved us! Darcy, might someone oil this door, or whatever one does so that it will open more easily?”
Intrigued, Fitzwilliam said, “Thorpe, bring us a candle.” The butler quickly provided two lit candles so that Darcy, Fitzwilliam, and Georgiana could examine the hidden passageway.
Mrs. Jenkinson had other concerns. “Anne, we must leave. We will go to my brother.”
“It would not surprise me if Aunt Catherine has arranged to have this place watched,” Darcy said. “So, we should arrange for a carriage to collect the two of you at … at ….”
“At Longbourn,” Kitty suggested. “Tomorrow morning early, I will walk here for a visit. Afterward, send me home in a carriage in which Anne and Nora have hidden themselves. Then, you need only arrange for another carriage to be waiting near Longbourn to carry them away.”
“This is most awkward. I have no money,” Anne said.
“A temporary situation,” Darcy said.
“Nor do I have any means of getting funds from my estate.”
“Also a temporary situation,” Fitzwilliam said.
“In Brighton, Peter will tell us what Anne can do under the law,” Mrs. Jenkinson said.
“Take your groomsman. His presence will ease my mind,” Darcy said.
Early the next morning following Kitty’s plan, the secret removal of Anne, Mrs. Jenkinson, and Michaels (smartly attired in a quality suit from Hobart’s tailoring shop) proceeded without incident. The three traveled to Brighton in a hired coach, preferring the safety of anonymity to the comfort of Darcy’s superior vehicle, and sooner than the ladies had dared hope, they were safely in Brighton.
41
“He might not notice the brides are switched.”
August 7, 1811
On Wednesday night at Netherfield, Georgiana was the guest of honor at a small celebration of her seventeenth birthday. With all the recent drama, Darcy had forgotten about the date until the day before, so he was delighted that Elizabeth—with help from the other Bennets—managed to arrange a festive dinner. At the party, Darcy presented Georgiana with the last bottle of port.
≈≈≈
August 10, 1811
When Fitzwilliam entered the drawing room at Purvis Lodge, he found Darcy and Elizabeth laughing over a spirited game of chess while Georgiana and Mary played four-hand piano. “News from a Mr. Peter Shelton—well, his is the name on the outside of the letter.”
“How are Anne and Mrs. Jenkinson faring?” Darcy asked. Mary and Georgiana stopped playing so they could listen.
“Apparently, the ladies have a plan for resolving the matter with Aunt Catherine.”
“Pistols or swords?” Elizabeth asked; grinning, Darcy nudged her foot with his.
“They feared to put their scheme in writing, and they say they need our help. So, Darcy, they ask us to come to Brighton.”
“In a perfect world, I would be married to my lady love by now,” Darcy grumbled, accepting the letter Fitzwilliam offered.
“In a perfect world, Anne would not be hiding from her mother,” Georgiana said.
“Then we are off to Brighton on Monday,” Fitzwilliam said.
“Elizabeth, I would like Georgiana to stay with you and the Bingleys until we return,” Darcy said, and when he saw the happy looks shared by his betrothed and his sister, feelings of contentment surged through him.
≈≈≈
August 12, 1811
Fitzwilliam and Darcy reached the home of Peter Shelton, esquire, late on Monday afternoon. As it was an unusually blustery day for August, the gentlemen were immediately shown to chairs near the fireplace, and Shelton gave each a glass of brandy. On the nearby sofa, Anne and Nora sat with cups of tea in hand.
“Nothing for you to drink, Peter?” Mrs. Jenkinson asked.
“These gentlemen do not know me, Nora, and we are about to propose a fantastical scheme for extricating Miss Anne from an unjust situation.” He gave Anne a reassuring smile, which was noted by both Darcy and Fitzwilliam. “Thus, I shall reward myself with a brandy when we are all in accord.” He seated himself in a chair from which he could see the faces of all parties.
“Allow me to begin,” Anne said. “Christopher, I need your help to secure my future.” Fitzwilliam gave Darcy a worried look that asked, She does not want to marry me, does she?
Reading his thoughts, Anne assured him, “No, I do not want you for my husband.” She exchanged amused looks with Mrs. Jenkinso
n.
Fitzwilliam was more relieved than insulted. “How may I be of service?”
“I need a man who will marry me and then go away. Forever.”
Mrs. Jenkinson explained. “Our dear Anne needs a desperate fellow who will speak the wedding vows in exchange for money and a life on another side of the world.”
Anne turned her attention to Darcy. “Thus, I need you to be seen in Brighton for the next few days, as your presence will convince George Wickham that you are hot on his heels, eager to capture him and throw him in jail.”
“George Wickham? He is here? Good lord, I am eager for exactly those things!”
“Yes, but you mustn’t actually catch him. Instead, your pursuit must instill in him a sense of great urgency so he will accept passage to the Americas on the first available ship. Which, by the way, sails on Saturday. You see, I plan to marry Wickham.”
“What!?” Darcy and Fitzwilliam exclaimed in unison.
Fitzwilliam warned, “He knows your face, your name, and your fortune!”
“As your husband, he will control all; I will not help you ruin yourself!” Darcy declared.
Mrs. Jenkinson said, “Ah, but Mr. Wickham will think he is marrying me, a woman of no consequence. He will not have time to read the lengthy marriage contract—”
“In part, written in Latin,” Shelton interjected.
“But without being aware of it, Wickham will be marrying me,” Anne said. The women touched the rims of their teacups in a toast and drank.
Shelton provided details. “The ladies will be veiled, and during the ceremony, the parson will mumble Anne’s name. Afterwards, Wickham will sign the registry and the marriage contract. Then you, Colonel, will hurry him off to his ship.”
“That is how you can assist me, Christopher. You will ensure Wickham is on the ship, which sails from Newhaven.”
“About three leagues from Brighton,” Shelton explained.
