Page 32 of Darcy in Distress (Pride and Prejudice Variation #17)

After a largely sleepless night, he had decided to ride to Netherfield and attempt a desperate bluff.

Since no one had seen Lady Anne since she fled Beaumont House in the company of Cecil Fitzwilliam, it was possible – perhaps likely – that his sickly sister had taken refuge in some backwards inn in London.

His youngest son was a lazy fool and not capable of coordinating a sensible plan.

If so, Darcy would still be fearful about his mother’s situation and might be willing to cough up needed money in return for information, even if it was false information.

It was, Matlock knew uneasily, rather a forlorn hope. Lady Anne had probably sent an express to her son, and Darcy was likely already on his way to wherever Lady Anne had hidden herself.

The massive front door of Netherfield opened at last, and the earl felt his heart leap. Darcy was here, and that meant that there was a chance he was still unaware of his mother’s current situation.

Matlock waited, schooling his expression into one of grim determination, as Darcy, Bingley, and his own son, Richard, stepped out onto the wide portico and marched down the steps onto the front lawn.

Behind the three gentlemen filed at least a dozen male servants, all of them tall and strong, some of them armed with pistols and clubs. It was not a propitious sight.

“Lord Matlock,” Darcy said with rigid calm. “What do you want?”

“I want an answer, Darcy, and now. I have waited long enough! You know the options: you will either marry Emma, or Georgiana will marry Richard or Cecil. I am quite out of patience. You will make your decision now, or you will never see your mother again, do you hear?”

A silent moment passed and then, to Matlock’s horrified surprise, Richard started laughing out loud. This provoked a similar reaction in Bingley, and even Darcy chuckled and Lord Matlock knew, immediately, that he had lost.

“My mother returned to Netherfield yesterday,” Darcy said with grim pleasure. “She arrived in a carriage with the Beaumont arms emblazoned on it. Cecil came with her. You have failed, Uncle, and your wretched scheme is over. My mother is safe with me, and you will never touch her again.”

Suddenly furious, Matlock swung down from his horse and took several impetuous steps toward his taller nephew.

“It is not over, you young fool,” he hissed, his eyes narrowed like slits. “It is not! I will take you to court and prove that your mother is insane, and you will be forced to give up guardianship of Georgiana and Lady Anne...”

At this point, his tirade came to a sudden halt as Darcy swung one mighty, ungloved fist and crashed it into his uncle’s protuberant proboscis. The earl fell backwards and found himself lying prone on the ground, panting in disbelief, blood pouring from his nose .

There was a cry of outrage from Aaron, his right hand man, and Matlock staggered to his feet as his lackeys dismounted, their hands going to their pistols. He turned and opened his mouth, ready to order an attack, but remained silent as the tip of a sword suddenly dug painfully into his chest.

He turned to see his son Richard standing in front of him, his right hand holding the sword hilt whose blade was touching his own body in a thoroughly menacing manner.

Matlock’s tongue went completely dry but he managed to gasp, “You would kill your own father, Richard?”

“I do not recognize you as my father anymore, Lord Matlock. Your behavior is repugnant, immoral, and cruel. And no, I will not kill you, but I promise that if you do not send your men away now, I will find a way to ensure that you will not be able to use your right arm for some weeks.”

The father stared fearfully into the brown eyes of the son, looking for weakness, and saw only cold, implacable determination.

“Mount your horses, all of you,” Matlock grated out.

His servants obeyed immediately, and Richard said, “Now tell them to ride to Meryton. You will catch up with them shortly. ”

The earl swallowed again and said, “Do as he says.”

His five minions obediently remounted their steeds, touched heels to horses, and the small cavalcade made its way down the drive, away from the mansion.

Richard slowly lowered his sword from his father’s chest and said, “Leave, Lord Matlock, and do not return. You are dead to me now.”

The earl of Matlock stared wild eyed at first his son and then his nephew. With nothing left to say, he retreated to his stallion, mounted and rode away, his head drooping in defeat.

/

Longbourn

A few hours later

“Oh Jane, oh Jane!” Mrs. Bennet cried with joy.

“Oh, I knew you could not be so beautiful for nothing! Oh, I will soon have two daughters well married. It does not even matter so very much that this child will be another daughter, with two wealthy sons-in-law in the family. Oh Jane, you simply must wait to marry until I am feeling better so that I can arrange for a lavish wedding breakfast. Promise me you will wait!”

Jane Bennet leaned over to kiss her mother on the cheek and said, “I promise, Mama. I too wish for you to be feeling well enough to attend my wedding.”

“Oh, if only I were feeling better, I would be the happiest woman in England!”

/

Netherfield

“Are you well, Fitzwilliam?” Elizabeth murmured. The couple had retired early and were now lying on Darcy’s large bed.

Darcy tightened his embrace around his wife and kissed her hair. “I am very well, though I confess that I am very tired too. It has been an exciting few days.”

Elizabeth chuckled and scooted a little closer to her husband’s tall form. “Indeed it has. If you had told me a week ago that I would be married, I would have thought you completely mad. ”

“You are still pleased we are married, I hope?” Darcy asked, suddenly anxious.

Elizabeth rolled over on her stomach and stared gravely into her husband’s face, her winsome countenance lit by the crackling fire and the wax candles in the sconces. “I am very, very pleased. I truly believe we were meant for one another.”

“I agree. It all happened so quickly. I would feel wretched if you ever felt rushed into such a momentous decision.”

Elizabeth rolled onto her back again and stared up at the canopy bed above her, her right hand questing for, and finding, her husband’s strong left hand.

“I think it was a gift of God,” she mused.

“We are both prickly, peculiar individuals in some ways – certainly more than Mr. Bingley and Jane, who are uniformly loved by everyone! I can imagine a situation where our initial interactions were negative, and we misunderstood one another, and perhaps even quarreled. Instead, thanks in part to the evil machinations of your uncle, we were thrown together and discovered we are one another’s perfect match. ”

Darcy felt liquid in his eyes, and he said huskily, “I love you, Elizabeth.”

“I love you too.”