Page 38 of Lord Lonbourn’s Daughter
The duke was buried a week after the papers had been signed.
It was as if he had used the last of his strength to put his affairs in order.
He was reunited with his beloved Vivienne in the hinterland—a prospect he was greatly anticipating; he had said so himself, the last night he was able to communicate.
The next morning, he never fully awoke; his eyes were closed and his breathing laboured until he died in the afternoon.
Lord Matlock had arrived, and the viscount, who had suffered under the misconception that his father would support his endeavour to acquire a borough of two seats in the House of Commons and a large fortune to boot, discovered that he was sorely mistaken when he was escorted by four sturdy footmen to Bedlam.
What eventually drove him over the edge would never be discovered because the treatment did not aid his health, but he made some revelations during the interrogation before he was committed.
In the viscount’s mind, he had thought it out in minute detail.
No harm should come to their own family, which was why he made sure Georgiana’s reputation was protected.
A marriage between his brother and his cousin was inevitable and should suffice if the gossips caught a sniff of the scandal.
Darcy was married off to someone he did not like who despised him in return but with an impeccable linage that would only add to their consequence.
Fighting and racing with the dreaded heir would diminish him in the eyes of the duke and evoke harrowing recollections, but hardly another soul in superior society would lift an eyebrow.
He thought himself so very clever that the only reputation to be tarnished would be that of the Earl of Longbourn’s youngest daughter.
He deemed that sufficient to mark the earl as a lackadaisical father.
Lady Kitty was simply redundant, but he could not leave her gagged among the servants, so he had taken her to a respectable hospital one of his friends had recommended.
It was his only means to hurt the eccentric and reclusive earl, whose only vice was a penchant for reading and delivering sarcastic remarks.
The servants had been tied and gagged so that they would not raise the alarm too soon.
He needed Wickham well on his way with Lady Lydia before anyone was any the wiser.
It was a fine idea since it would allow him to pay Wickham little of his own funds which were depleted from the bribes he been forced to pay in order to inflict his political views upon the House of Lords.
He had to resort to a high interest loan from a moneylender to pay for the abduction and bribe Mrs Younge, which he deemed a pittance considering the two hundred and fifty thousand pounds he would inherit from the duke.
He felt no remorse for the murdered footman; he had not ordered anyone killed and laid the blame at the feet of the ruffians he had hired.
It was fortunate that Richard knew what they looked like and their favourite haunt. All were arrested and charged with burglary and murder. The girls were never mentioned in the trial as they had left before the attack had happened.
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Lord Longbourn sent his youngest daughter north with her husband and a brand-new carriage.
She was firm in her belief she had married well, and his lordship relented for peace in his household.
Mr Wickham had bought a carriage, but as it was still in London, his lordship replaced it with a sturdier model built to stave off the cold in the far north.
Jane had officially followed Elizabeth and her husband to Pemberley.
That she would visit Matlock to pay her respects, and that the colonel would spend most of his time at Pemberley with her, Lord Longbourn did not doubt.
The viscount’s depravity and the havoc that had led to his commitment to Bedlam had taken its toll on the colonel.
He had been forced to resign his commission as he had been appointed sole guardian to the next Earl of Matlock, the honourable Cavendish Fitzwilliam, aged five.
The wedding had been postponed until after the mourning period for the duke had been observed.
They had decided to marry quietly at Matlock with only their closest family present.
Lord Longbourn had been burdened with the tiresome task of overseeing the packing and journeying north to attend the wedding.
He loathed travelling, but it could not be helped.
His carriage was just pulling into the courtyard of his beloved Longbourn, which would soon be Jane’s home. He would only visit it now and would spend more time in town than he liked. He intended to honour his promise to the duke and use his seat in the House of Lords.
He had just overseen the unpacking of Jane’s harp from Bennet House when a tall young man he recognised approached his home—or Jane’s, he should remember. Lord Longbourn groaned at his misfortune.
Mr Collins, the dreaded cousin, had arrived.
Most likely wanting to inspect his inheritance as the heir presumptive to the earldom .
He had visited Longbourn Lodge and had met his housekeeper this spring.
Mrs Nichols had sent him to Bennet House in London, where he had made a not-so-subtle request to marry one of his daughters.
Mr Collins had shown some sense in choosing Lizzy, but she had disabused him of that notion, and the parson had left in a fit of pique.
At the moment, he had no choice but to greet his kin with a bow.
“What brings you to my humble abode, Mr Collins?”
“I have come to attend my wedding, Lord Longbourn. Miss Lucas has done me the honour of accepting my hand in marriage. Lady Catherine de Bourgh insisted that I must stay here, at Longbourn, as the earldom’s future heir. Residing with my bride before we are wed will not do.”
So, the toad was the old cat’s spy, Lord Longbourn thought. He found the obsequious man entertaining, but it was time to be serious.
“ This is Longbourn Lodge, which is not part of the earldom. Longbourn Castle is the estate that belongs to the title.”
“A castle, you say. Why would you not reside at the castle if it is in your possession? I certainly shall reside there when I become the Earl of Longbourn.”
“Yes, I am not surprised. My wife was not fond of the castle. She was of more humble beginnings and thought the rooms were too lofty. You know, big and spacious but cold and draughty. We built Longbourn Lodge for my daughter Jane, but when it was finished, we loved it so much that we decided to move here for a while. My wife liked the society in Meryton, so we never left.”
“Is the castle far from here?”
“No, it is a half-hour ride. Do you ride Mr Collins?”
“Of course, every gentleman rides,” Mr Collins boasted.
The next half-hour proved Mr Collins’s lack of insight into his own abilities.
Lord Longbourn pitied the horse but had little sympathy for his cousin.
He should have ordered the carriage, but it was too late, and they had arrived at Longbourn Castle—or more accurately what was left of it.
It would have been less draughty if it had a roof, but alas, that had caved in more than a decade ago.
Verdure, weeds, and a robin lived in the castle these days; humans had not done so for two decades.
“This is a ruin!” an incredulous Mr Collins exclaimed.
“That is stating the obvious, but yes, it is.”
“But where is the castle?”
“This is it, I am afraid. The fire that killed my uncle and cousin naturally left some damage to the castle as well. Some paint and woodwork are needed, a bit of masonry, and it will be as good as new.”
“There must be another habitable house attached to the earldom!”
“There is not. Well, there is the dower house.” The Earl of Longbourn pointed to a small, overgrown cottage.
“This is the only property that is attached to the title. It has quite a bit of fertile land and twelve tenants with sufficient housing. May I suggest you begin saving, Mr Collins? The fortune that I am obligated to leave you is ten thousand pounds. It will go a long way towards repairing the roof, walls, and floors, but there will not be much left over for furnishings. It would not be wise to use it all at once. There are also the servants’ expenses.
The steward likes a decent salary, and the butcher always prefers to be paid. ”
“I cannot believe this is the abode that comes with the earldom of Longbourn.”
“That will make the situation all the more pitiful for you, but it will have no effect on me. I shall be dead, remember?”
To say the atmosphere was gloomy on the ride home certainly would not do justice to Mr Collins’s petulance. Fortunately, he was invited to supper at Lucas Lodge that evening and would return to Kent after the wedding.
Lord Longbourn could enjoy his home for a fortnight before he set out for the peaks of Derbyshire.