Page 21 of Darcy in Distress (Pride and Prejudice Variation #17)

Matlock House

London

“Richard,” the earl of Matlock said affably, though he did not rise from the chair behind his desk, “Good morning.”

“Where is Lady Anne, Father?” the colonel demanded, his eyes narrowed, his tone carefully controlled. “Is she here?”

The earl chuckled humorlessly and shook his head, “No, of course not. She is being accommodated somewhere else, in a place you will never find without my assistance. Tell me, will Darcy be joining us today?”

Richard tightened his lips and sat down on the chair across from his father. “No. I advised him that I would do better to meet with you alone today.”

The earl nodded, reached out lazily toward a decanter of brandy, and poured a glass for himself. “Would you care for a drink, Son?”

“No, thank you. I find it rather too early in the morning to be drinking brandy,” the colonel replied evenly .

“I disagree,” the earl returned with a satisfied smile.

“This particular brandy is one of the best Spain has to offer. But come, on to business. I confess to some disappointment in my nephew. It is he that is most concerned in this business, not you. In fact, I would expect that you, as my son, would be more interested in the fortunes of the Fitzwilliams than the fortunes of the Darcys.”

“Then you would be incorrect, sir,” Richard said, his eyes as hard as flint.

Matlock sighed dramatically and leaned back in his chair, his left hand idly playing with his glass. “I wonder where I went wrong with my sons. Ewan is a dull fellow, you have no loyalty to your family of birth, and Cecil is a tiresome dandy. Ah well, one cannot choose one’s own family, I suppose.”

“Indeed,” Richard said dryly and lapsed into silence.

For a full five minutes, the study was quiet. Richard knew that the earl enjoyed using long silences to unnerve his family and underlings. Unfortunately for Matlock, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam was a skilled strategist and quite capable of using his sire’s method against the man.

“Georgiana will marry Cecil, whereupon I will release Lady Anne into Darcy’s care,” the earl finally said, apparently realizing that Richard would neither plead nor yell in outrage .

“Georgiana will not marry Cecil,” Richard responded implacably. “She is my ward and entirely too young. Furthermore, my brother would be a very poor husband to a girl not yet out of her teens.”

“You no longer have any choice in the matter, Richard,” the earl said through gritted teeth. “I have Lady Anne, and I will not release her until her daughter has married my son!”

“No!” Richard snapped back. “I do not pretend to know Lady Anne very well, but I am confident of her devoted love for her daughter. She would rather suffer in your uncertain care than doom Georgiana to a marriage with a man whom she can neither love nor respect.”

“Faugh! Love! Respect! Marriage is not about such things, you fool! It is about connections and money. In this situation, money most of all!”

Richard shook his head and said, “No. I do not despise Cecil as I do you, but he would not be a good husband to my young cousin. I have a responsibility to Georgiana!”

Matlock glared at his son, his fists tightening in his lap.

Why had he permitted Richard to enter the army?

His other sons, his daughters, and his wife, knew that he was the master of the family, that he held the purse strings, but Richard had been unpleasantly independent ever since his first campaign on the Peninsula .

“I will cut off your allowance,” Matlock warned.

Richard laughed mockingly. “You are on the precipice of financial ruin, and thus will soon be without money to pay out allowances. Such threats are meaningless. Come, sir – let us be reasonable. Darcy is willing to pay a substantial amount as a ransom for his mother, but Georgiana is not for sale.”

Matlock stared grimly into his son’s face and then leaned back to think. Three more minutes passed in silence, and then the earl said crisply, “Very well. If you are too much a hero to allow Cecil to marry your ward, I am willing to consider two other options.”

/

Beaumont House

Russell Square

Cecil, who had been sitting in the drawing room flicking through the pages of a periodical, leaped to his feet and scurried out into the front corridor. “Nurse Deborah! ”

The girl turned, her apron swaying gracefully around her slender form, and bobbed her head. “Yes, Mr. Fitzwilliam?”

“How is Lady Anne feeling today?” Cecil asked politely.

“She is well enough, sir,” Deborah said with a gleam of white teeth. “She was very calm through the night, which is an excellent thing. Nurse Mildred is looking after her now, and if you like, you can go up and visit Lady Anne.”

“No, I am quite at ease with two such diligent nurses looking after my aunt,” Cecil assured her.

He had no interest in spending any additional time with Nurse Mildred.

The woman was quite attractive with black hair and dark brown eyes, but she was at least thirty years of age, and she seemed not at all impressed with him in spite of his exalted rank as son of an earl.

The lovely girl in front of him was far more to his liking; not only was she handsome, she was respectful and, unless he very much mistook her behavior, welcoming of his flattering words.

“Thank you, Mr. Fitzwilliam,” Deborah answered, and blushed.

/

Mr. Bennet’s librar y

Longbourn

Samuel lowered himself to one knee, bowed his head, and said, “Your Royal Highness.”

Tears filled Lilia’s eyes, and she exclaimed, “Oh Samuel, please do get up! I cannot bear the thought that this change in my circumstances would drive us apart!”

Samuel rose obediently to his feet to reveal a sorrowful countenance. “Lilia, you are the crown princess of the land of Mirandia, and I am but a humble shepherd. Our circumstances have changed.”

“Oh Samuel!” Lilia exclaimed, stepping forward to embrace him.

He put up his hands to meet her own and held her away, his face contorted with grief. “Your Highness, I am unworthy of you now. It appears it was always but a dream, destined to be torn away by events beyond both our imagination...”

“Sir?”

Mr. Bennet looked up and blinked rapidly several times. His butler, Mr. Hill, stood across from his desk, his gloved hand clasping a silver tray upon which reposed a sealed letter .

“Yes?” Mr. Bennet asked, pulling himself reluctantly into nineteenth century England. A glance at the library clock showed it was but ten in the morning. Most of his family was still abed at this hour.

“A letter from Miss Elizabeth at Netherfield, sir,” Hill said. “The servant boy indicated that it was urgent.”

“Thank you,” Bennet answered, reaching out to grasp the letter. He started to open it, then he stopped and looked up into the face of his loyal butler.

“Hill, would you be horrified if you read a novel and the female protagonist, the crown princess of a country, married a humble shepherd?”

The manservant tilted his head to one side and considered for a long moment before saying, “I believe, sir, that such a course of action would be considered absurd to the point of ridiculous for most readers. However, it has happened in the course of history that men have been ennobled through some great feat of bravery. King David was, of course, a shepherd before he killed Goliath the giant, and later he was crowned king.”

Bennet leaned back in his chair and stroked his chin thoughtfully, then nodded. “He could rescue the crown princess, or her sister, from great peril. Perhaps he could find the younger sister, who would ... yes, that would do very well. Thank you, Hill. ”

“Of course, sir,” the butler answered, allowing a slight smile to cross his face.

Bennet grinned at him and waved a casual dismissal.

There was a reason that Mr. Hill was very well paid for a butler.

In addition to being excellent at his duties, Hill was also the only other man at Longbourn to know of Bennet’s career as an author.

He, along with Elizabeth, often provided insight on plot points.

Bennet slit open the letter, opened it, and laid it on his desk.

Netherfield Hall

Papa,

I hope it would be convenient for you to call at Netherfield this morning. Mr. Darcy is coping with a difficult circumstance, and he wishes to ask for your advice. It is a most challenging situation; it reminds me of poor Seraphina’s situation in Olivia Bluebell’s novel, Fireflies at Twilight .

With much love,

Lizzy

P.S. Mr. Bingley indicates that he would be most pleased if Jane were to visit with you .

“Hill!” Bennet called, rising to his feet and hurrying toward the door. “Hill! Have my carriage readied!”

/

Bingley’s study

Netherfield

“That is absolutely dreadful, Mr. Darcy!” Mr. Bennet exclaimed sympathetically. He generally looked upon the world with a satirical eye, but this account was truly horrifying to him.

“It is indeed,” Darcy agreed heavily. “If I were not experiencing it, I would say it was far too lurid for real life, and more appropriate for one of Frances Burney’s or Olivia Bluebell’s novels.”

This provoked a gleam of amusement in Bennet’s dark brown eyes, but to his credit, the master of Longbourn refrained from making any humorous remark about female novelists. “How can I assist you?” he asked instead .

Wickham, who had taken up his usual place by the window, said, “Miss Elizabeth suggested that we ask for your assistance in learning how Matlock discovered that we gentlemen were away at the time of the raid on Netherfield. We fear that Bingley may have a treacherous servant who is in Matlock’s employ. ”

Bennet frowned. “Where did you hire your servants, Mr. Bingley?”

“A few of them came down with me from my house in London, and I trust those men and women as they have served our family for years. We hired many servants locally, mostly at the suggestion of Mrs. Riley, who has been caring for the Hall before I leased it.”

After a brief pause, Bennet responded, “I would be happy to look over your list of servants and question some of my own people, but I doubt any local folk would conspire against you and your friends in such a way. Most of them have lived in Meryton for generations and depend on the goodwill of the gentry for their sustenance. I think it far more likely that Lord Matlock had someone watching the house from the hill to the southwest. If memory serves, there is a horse path to that site. I can well imagine someone spying out the lay of the land and, perhaps, waiting there until most of the men had left the mansion. He could signal your uncle by firing a pistol, or waving a flag, to alert Matlock and his men to storm the house while you were away. ”

“I did hear several pistol shots when we were out yesterday!” Wickham exclaimed.

“I did not,” Darcy said doubtfully.

“You were focused on the fences and crops and the like.”

“I suppose that is true,” Darcy admitted.

“Mr. Bennet, I have one additional favor to ask of you. My sister Georgiana is greatly distressed by my mother’s abduction, which is no surprise.

She has taken a great liking to Miss Elizabeth.

Indeed, she clings to her, as your daughter saved her from kidnapping by guiding her to a safe hiding place here at Netherfield.

Would you be willing to allow Miss Elizabeth to stay here with my sister for a few more days?

I assure you that she will be entirely secure as we have armed, trusted servants guarding the doors now. ”

Bennet considered. On the one hand, he would miss Elizabeth, who was his favorite, most intelligent daughter.

On the other, he was sympathetic toward the Darcys’ grievous situation.

Furthermore, given Mr. Collins determination to court his second daughter, he would be doing Elizabeth a great service by allowing her to stay at Netherfield.

“Yes, of course. Elizabeth is welcome to stay if she wishes. Now, Mr. Darcy, may I inquire what is being done to rescue Lady Anne? ”

Darcy swallowed and said, “My cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, is meeting with his father this morning to make arrangements for her return.”

“I see,” Bennet said sympathetically.

Bingley, who had been casting increasingly frequent glances at the study door, now suggested, “Perhaps we might join the ladies now?”

“Certainly,” Bennet agreed. “I do believe it is incumbent on me to mention that Mr. Collins is here. He insisted on accompanying Jane and me.”

Wickham and Darcy exchanged pained glances and the latter said heavily, “I understand, sir.”