Page 39 of Elizabeth is not a Bennet
Adair’s House
Kelso
Half An Hour Later
It was oddly quiet in the room, the crackling of the fire and rustling paper the only sounds. Elizabeth sat drowsily in the warmth. Her husband had insisted that she take the chair nearest the hearth, and as dusk fell and the temperature dropped, she found herself grateful for her place.
Although the room was quiet, it was not relaxed. Darcy sat protectively near his wife, glowering at Moira Stowe, who was sitting across from them, upright and regal as a queen. She gazed into the fire, haughtily ignoring her stepdaughter and Darcy alike, as well as the footman hovering behind her to prevent any desperate acts. Wickham had stationed himself beside the door. Adair sat close to Harold and stared at the fire from a distance, his face lit by the candles on the table nearby.
Harold was at the table, reading through the letters there intently, bloodless lips moving soundlessly on occasion. A full, sweetened cup of tea sat at his right hand, while a maid lurked in the corner ready to refill his cup as needed. Everyone in the room glanced at him frequently, except for his mother, who stared into the fire while maintaining a proud indifference to her only son.
Elizabeth took a moment to watch her half-brother compassionately. He had sustained several severe shocks over the course of the day, and she could not help sympathizing with him. To learn that his long dead half-sister was indeed alive, the estate he had always been told was his was not, and that his mother was wicked and conniving. Well, better to know the truth than to live blindly surrounded by lies, but it all must be a shattering blow to the young man.
Yet, even in the midst of her sorrow and sympathy, Elizabeth felt a thread of excitement in her heart. The Bennets had welcomed her as a daughter and a sister of the house, and she loved them as her own. Darcy openly adored his wife, and Elizabeth likewise adored him. But her feelings towards Harold were new and complicated; he was her own flesh and blood, her own half-brother. She could only hope he would feel similarly interested in coming to know her.
Harold set aside the last letter in his pile, swallowed hard, and turned haunted eyes toward Mrs. Stowe.
“It is true, Mother,” he whispered. “I would recognize your hand anywhere, and your style of writing, too. Do not bother to deny it! ”
She rose to her feet, her expression fierce, and took a step nearer to Harold. Darcy’s footman, in turn, took three steps for her one, and placed himself between mother and son.
“I did it for you,” she said, her eyes dark with fury. “Do you not understand? I did it for you and your future! Greymere is deeply in debt. Three fields flood every year, two tenant families have left! Our only hope was to gain control of Ravenswood, and why should we not have it? Isobel Stowe was a weak woman who could not even birth a son! I am the one who provided an heir for Ravenswood and Greymere! This upstart woman has no right…”
“Silence yourself, Madame,” Darcy interrupted, tightening his grip on Elizabeth’s hand. “My wife has every right.”
“Mother,” Harold said, and now tears were in his eyes. “Mrs. Darcy is my sister!”
“Your half-sister!” the woman proclaimed.
“My half-sister, yes,” Harold said, and suddenly salty droplets were sliding down his face. “I … I always wanted a sibling, and all this time…”
“Ah, and now you are weeping like an old woman! How could I have possibly raised a son who could not even… ”
“Enough!” Darcy snapped, and now he was on his feet, his expression so thunderous that Mrs. Stowe actually cringed. “I will not hear you denigrating either your son or my wife! You have submitted to this entire company that you attempted to cause the death of Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy, your stepdaughter and my wife in order to steal what is legally hers. That is enough to see you hanged!”
Harold wobbled in his chair, and Adair reached out a hand to sustain him, while Moira Stowe, recovering herself, shook her head, turned on her heel, and wandered over to sink gracefully back into her chair.
“I hardly think that you would wish for that kind of family scandal.” she said loftily. “Not if you would like to be happy here in Kelso. I was born here and raised here. My parents lived and died here. I have many relations in the area, including Adair himself! What do you think will happen if you have me hauled off to prison? After all, it was not I who shot Mrs. Darcy.”
Wickham, who had been watching, said, “No, but it was you who manipulated Denny into doing your dirty work, and you attempted to do the same with me. You are as guilty as Denny is.”
“Mrs. Stowe is correct, however, that we may not want to deal with a great scandal,” Elizabeth mused. “There must be another option. ”
“Why, of course, my dear step-daughter, there is,” Mrs. Stowe said with a saccharine smile. “Harold and I will return home to Greymere, and we will all avoid each other for the rest of our natural lives. You need have no further fears at my hand, Mrs. Darcy. You are of age, and as you said, if you were to die, Ravenswood will devolve to your husband. I confess to being defeated.”
“You are certainly not returning to Greymere,” Darcy said coldly.
“Oh, but I am,” Mrs. Stowe said, with a flutter of her eyelashes. “You must see, Mr. Darcy, that I am entirely harmless now, thanks to Mr. Wickham’s trickery. Moreover, my son is not yet of age, and it would be too cruel to separate a child from his mother, would it not?”
“You have hardly been a very good mother,” Elizabeth said in a tone of wonder. “You concealed from him that he has a half-sister.”
“I am certain that Harold would agree that a tidy estate is worth more than a half-sister.”
“I most certainly do not!” Harold Stowe exclaimed, obviously horrified.
“You would prefer a half-sister and penury?” Moira demanded. “Well, you have your wish, because with the mortgages on Greymere, we will soon lose the estate. No more horses, and carriages, and decent clothes, and that Madeira wine you like so much…”
She turned a tragic gaze on Darcy and said, “Indeed, both my son and I will be punished enough.”
Elizabeth leaned forward to glare into her stepmother’s face. “You are the one who has spent recklessly for many years, Madame, and your suffering is on your shoulders. Moreover, I believe it is helpful if you understand something; my husband is master of a grand estate worth many times more than Ravenswood. We have no need to settle here in Scotland, and I doubt that any scandal will penetrate to Derbyshire. If it does, it will dissipate quickly. The Darcys have owned Pemberley for generations and are trusted throughout the area.”
Mrs. Stowe looked startled and, yes, afraid, and then her nostrils flared and her eyes narrowed. “So you are already rich! And yet you seek to wrench away what belongs to your own brother!”
“Mrs. Stowe, this is absurd,” Darcy said. “Elizabeth is legally the owner of Ravenswood. Moreover, Adair has, under your orders, been saving up much of the rents in the bank instead of fixing cottage roofs and draining fields at Ravenswood. You have obviously been a wretched mistress of Greymere and would be the same for Ravenswood. The only question now is whether you will be arrested and thrown in jail, possibly to hang, or if you are amenable to some other solution which will keep you out of the public eye for the rest of your life.”
Moira rose to her feet and stared up into Darcy’s face, her lips trembling, her bosom heaving. “Surely you could not be so cruel, sir? Please, I beg of you...”
“You tried twice to have my wife killed,” Darcy interrupted. “My sympathy is with your son, my wife, and your tenants; they do not deserve to have such a horrible woman as mother, stepmother, and mistress!”
Mrs. Stowe turned on her son, who was still sitting, slack jawed and pale. “Will you not say something to defend your mother, Harold? Or are you too weak to do even that?”
“Mr. Adair,” Elizabeth said, turning toward their host, “Would it be possible for Mrs. Stowe to retire to a guest bedchamber, perhaps? She obviously has no intention of allowing us to discuss this situation in any rational way.”
Adair hesitated momentarily, and then nodded. “Yes, of course. Mrs. Stowe, would you be so kind as to...”
“I will not leave without…,” Mrs. Stowe began, and then trailed off as Darcy and the footman took a few steps closer. She wilted for a just a moment, and then lifted her chin again and said, “I see that you have no hesitation in using force against a vulnerable woman. I wi ll go now, but I hope you realize this is not the end. My son and second cousin may be cowards, but there are some men in Kelso who will defend me against such cruelty.”
She shot one last furious glance at her son and then marched out of the door with Darcy and the footman in her wake, leaving a clearly shaken Harold Stowe.
“I cannot ... I simply do not know what to think,” he said shakily.
“You have every right to be disconcerted,” Elizabeth said sympathetically. “You have experienced a great many shocks. I know you have no reason to trust me...”
“I have more reason to trust you, a woman I have never met, than my own mother,” Harold rasped and began sobbing aloud, his shoulders heaving.
Elizabeth, filled with sympathy, rose to her feet and walked over to him. She felt a strong desire to embrace the young man; he was her brother, but also a stranger, so she confined herself to a gentle hand on his shoulder.
Darcy returned before Harold had entirely recovered, and Darcy said, “John will spend the night guarding Mrs. Stowe. ”
He turned to his brother-in-law. “Mr. Stowe, may I suggest that you join us at The Frog and the Toad? There is an available bedchamber near ours, and it will be easier for you to make decisions if your mother is not nearby.”
Harold lifted a tear-stained face and, after accepting Elizabeth’s handkerchief, mopped it.
“I do not know what to do,” he confessed drearily.
“Of course you do not,” Elizabeth said soothingly. “Nor is it necessary to make any decisions at the moment. Everything will seem better in the morning.”
“I sincerely doubt that,” her brother replied with a deep sigh, “but yes, I would like a bedchamber at The Frog and the Toad. Thank you.”