Page 61 of Lizzie’s Spirit

“Your wife, a gentlewoman, manages your estate?”

“In Hertfordshire, she and her mother ran their Longbourn estate during the time her father was paralysed, following his apoplexy. She was also greatly involved as a young girl, for, with no sons, many duties fell to her, being close to her father in inclination, temperament, and understanding.

“Her consequence, in the colony, was not due to her being my wife, but rather, her being able to administer estates, her connections to merchants in London, and her responsibility for the female orphans. No, sir! It was she who lent me consequence.”

“Fitzwilliam, you’re bewitched by Elizabeth; perhaps as I was enamoured of Lady Anne.

But we’ve other issues we need to consider.

Matlock’s note arrived shortly after your appointment with Bathurst. Clearly, the moment you were announced at Whitehall, a message was sent to Matlock—he has ears everywhere.

We must move carefully— we need to recruit our clerks and investigators from outside of London. ”

***

“His Excellency the Honourable Fitzwilliam Darcy, Lieutenant Governor and Judge-Advocate for New South Wales.” Darcy waited until he was announced before stepping into the elegant, though faded, drawing-room of Matlock House in St. James’s Square.

The Earl Matlock, a large, grey-haired man of about sixty years, stood to greet him.

“What’s this, Fitzwilliam? You’re now so high in the instep that I, an earl, should refer to you as Your Excellency ?"

“No, of course not, uncle. My apologies; your butler did not recognise me, so I gave him my card. Shall we start again?”

“Impertinent, as well. Perhaps you forget yourself. It seems the vulgar society of a penal settlement has made you disregard the preservation of rank in this country.”

“On the contrary, I believe my rank is, indeed, acknowledged here as well as in the colony. In fact, Lord Bathurst was all that was pleasant when I met with him yesterday evening. It was the lateness of the appointment and his extended civility that made it impossible for me to visit with you, as requested.” Darcy was pleased to see Matlock was somewhat annoyed by Bathurst’s condescension.

Although he possessed considerable influence in Parliament, he was not in government and envied the rank and privilege of ministers such as Bathurst, Castlereagh, and Liverpool. After a pause, he continued,

“I wished to thank you personally for the very fine speech you gave to Parliament in memory of Frederick—kindly done and well expressed.”

“He was my nephew. As head of the Fitzwilliam family, it was expected of me. Certainly, by doing so, Richard escaped any censure that could impact the reputation of the family. We told all our acquaintances that Frederick was killed by an act of random violence. ‘Tis best if the perpetrator’s prior relationship with the Darcys is not known.”

So, the earl was only concerned with the good name of the family. Darcy knew that his father had the right of it, that Pemberley was to solve the looming problem of Lady Catherine’s bankruptcy. Forewarned is forearmed.

“Anyway, thank you for your words of condolence.”

Darcy let the ensuing silence drag out; he had no intention of introducing what he knew was the purpose of his uncle’s summons. The butler entered and asked if he would take tea or coffee. He accepted coffee, hot without cream, just as he liked it—just as Elizabeth would prepare it for him.

“You know of the Rosings' mortgages?”

“Indeed, my father told me of Frederick and Richard finding the hidden ledger. Lady Catherine is my aunt, but I can hardly respect her amassing such a debt. Some one hundred and fifty thousand pounds…”

“’Tis more—possibly another thirty thousand. In our investigation, we found more mortgages.”

To pay out such a sum would strain even Pemberley’s resources. And the income from Rosings, if purchased, would be insufficient to return interest on the monies, even at the four percents.

“Do you know to whom the estate is mortgaged? Surely the beneficiaries are recorded on the documents—if not, they may not be legal debts?”

“Ah, here’s the rub. The mortgagee is a trust administered by Asquith, Badeley and Chaffers.”

Darcy could hardly refrain from smirking, though it was no laughing matter.

“Oh dear, the inimical attorneys, ABC. I can see why you could search no further—their keeping clients’ affairs confidential is legendary.

They use all sorts of devices to hide their affairs: offshore trusts, joint-stock companies, and the like.

Moreover, they are never involved in any sort of impropriety. Not good, sir. Not good at all!”

“Even as an earl, I cannot make any demands of them.”

“And Lady Catherine? She’s now living on Darcy charity, but her lifestyle is as profligate as ever, I suppose?”

The earl squirmed in his chair but still looked belligerently at Darcy.

“She will not talk of it. Even I, head of the family and an earl, cannot get her to tell what has been done.”

“Cannot the debts be purchased, most likely at a discount? The manor is extremely old-fashioned and in disrepair; also, the leaseholds and the dwellings require much maintenance and investment in drainage, laneways, and bridges.

Matlock thumped the table, causing coffee to spill from the cups.

“Rosings will not be sold—it is Anne’s heritage!”

“Come, sir,” said Darcy, “let us not dissemble. The scandal of Lady Catherine’s bankruptcy would spill over from the de Bourghs to both the Fitzwilliams and Darcys. We are all tied up in this. ‘Tis not only Cousin Anne who has much to lose in this affair.

“I am a lawyer. Moreover, as judge-advocate, I investigated many matters concerning debts, title deeds, and the like. You need a fresh eye on how to unravel Lady Catherine’s finances.

But, before we proceed, I need access to all of the documents.

Perhaps I can find a solution that we can arrange between ourselves, which has eluded your solicitors. ”

It was done. Darcy had achieved all he could hope for at this first meeting. The earl agreed to forward copies of all deeds, wills, and mortgages to the House, and gave the direction of his solicitors if further documents were required.

For now, the issue of Darcy marrying either of his cousins, Felicity Fitzwilliam or Anne de Bourgh, had not been raised by his uncle.

Being the middle of June, it would be another three months before Elizabeth would join him by Michaelmas, the 29th of September—surely he could keep his investigations dragging along until then.

He was uncertain he could play the coquet for any length of time—it was alien to his nature and disrespected Elizabeth.

Maybe, he thought, I could display a certain hauteur and arrogance, as befitting my rank of lieutenant governor; if it were known that I seek a wife—a deceit solely for Matlock’s benefit—then matchmaking mamas will surely dog me at every soiree, card party, or other entertainment.

***

Miss Caroline Bingley could scarcely believe her luck.

Her soiree, unfortunately out of season, was attended by the highest ranked person of her acquaintance.

What were mere knights and baronets to an Excellency !

Though Mr. Darcy was untitled, an omission surely to be remedied because of his service to the Crown, he was tall, handsome, very rich, and the heir to the largest estate in Derbyshire.

“I’m astonished,” said Miss Bingley, “that you could endure living in such a place. Why, society in a penal colony must be very limited indeed.”

“On the contrary,” said Darcy, “there is much to recommend it.”

“How so—surely, there are no drawing-rooms as refined as this?” She preened, waving her hand around the ostentatious drawing-room of her sister, Mrs. Louisa Hurst. Her husband, Mr. Hurst, was a man of fashion and little fortune, so the decoration of the room was designed to impress by its gaudy display—there was nothing of true elegance and refinement.

The place compared very poorly to Mr. Campbell’s parlour at Dawes Point, with its exquisite, carved panels and woven carpets.

Darcy endeavoured to be polite. “Perhaps, Miss Bingley, but London has nothing to compare to a ball held offshore, of a warm antipodean evening, on board a great Indiaman merchant ship. The band upon the poop, dancing on the quarterdeck, refreshments laid out in the Great Cabin. I can assure you, the stars of the Southern Cross and a bright moon provide better illumination than all of the dripping candles we see at balls here in London.”

He had erred towards loquaciousness. It was difficult to remain aloof when his thoughts wandered to Elizabeth, standing at the taffrail, her gloved hand upon his arm, her laugh more refreshing than an easterly onshore breeze, her smile brighter than an ivory moon suspended high in the sky.

And what a clear sky! Not the smog and stench of London—who could conceive of holding a ball afloat that great sewer, the Thames?

“Oh, you tease, sir.” Miss Bingley lightly tapped his arm with her fan. “Certainly, we wouldn’t wish to dance on a merchant ship. How preposterous.”

“Indeed, ma’am.”

“Charles said you’ve a sister. Is she in London?”

“No, she is at our estate in Derbyshire. London air, especially in the summer, agrees with her very poorly. My father and I will shortly remove to the country as well.”

At that moment, Bingley came up to the conversation. “I believe I met your sister, Darcy, but then she was only six years old. She must be quite grown by now.”

“Not as tall as me, of course.” Darcy chuckled; there were none taller than him in the room.

Georgiana was certainly not as tall as Elizabeth, with fair hair to Elizabeth’s dark.

Miss Bingley’s hair had a reddish tint, but darker than Bingley’s.

Fortunately, the peacock feather had been left in the aviary .

“I would so love to meet her,” said Miss Bingley. “She must have attended the best school and be ever so accomplished. I, myself, attended a seminary here in town. I may have met her, without realising who she was, for I know many truly accomplished ladies who went to school with me.”

So maladroit, attempting to forge an acquaintance where none existed. Darcy shifted uneasily. Was all conversation so gauche?

“It’s amazing to me,” said Bingley, “how young ladies have the patience to be so very accomplished, as they all are.”

“All young ladies accomplished! My dear brother, what do you mean?”

“Yes, all of them. They all paint tables, cover screens, and net purses. I scarcely know any one who cannot do all this, and I’m sure I never heard a young lady spoken of for the first time, without being informed that she was very accomplished.”

“Your list of the common extent of accomplishments,” said Darcy, drily, “has too much truth. The word is applied to many a woman who deserves it no otherwise than by netting a purse, or covering a screen. But I’m very far from agreeing with you in your estimation of ladies in general.

I cannot boast of knowing more than one woman, in the whole range of my acquaintance, that is truly accomplished. ”

He almost gave his heart away… There was only one such woman, and he could hardly boast of her accomplishments here.

“Nor I, I’m sure,” said Miss Bingley. “No one can be really esteemed accomplished who does not greatly surpass what is usually met with. A woman must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, and the modern languages to deserve the word; and besides all this, she must possess a certain something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions, or the word will be but half deserved.”

“All this she must possess,” added Darcy, “and to all this she must yet add something more substantial. To be able to converse amiably with merchant, admiral, or lord alike. Mrs. Macquarie, Governor Macquarie’s wife, was one such woman.

She was knowledgeable of world affairs, gained through extensive reading, and well able to support her husband in his vice-regal duties. Such makes the ideal governor’s wife.”

Miss Bingley and her sister, Mrs. Hurst, were not so entirely satisfied with this speech, for they read little apart from novels, only scanned the gossip section of the newspapers, and had never met an admiral.

Of merchants they knew plenty—and they desired to move up in society, which made their new acquaintance with Mr. Darcy so appealing.

He was of the first circles, the nephew of an earl, of vice-regal rank—and, most advantageously, Charles’s friend.

Nothing could be more perfect. At that moment, Miss Bingley decided she would be the next mistress of Pemberley.

Mr. Darcy’s rank of lieutenant governor made him completely charming.