Page 13 of Raised at Rosings (Elizabeth and Darcy True Love Multiverse #4)
Chapter Twelve
Darcy watched the interplay between Mr. Crampton and his aunt and shook his head. While his aunt might have thought herself clever, it was fairly simple to sort out what she was up to. Having observed his aunt’s clandestine meeting with Mr. Dunn, where a substantial amount of money changed hands, the footman Richard had set to follow her next learned a key detail: Mr. Dunn worked in a low-level position at their Uncle Lewis’s law firm.
It had been simple to arrange a meeting with Mr. Crampton, with his own barrister in attendance. After all, Darcy was in possession of a copy of his uncle’s will, though he had not reviewed it since his uncle’s death. Mr. Crampton had been grateful to know that his employee was working for Lady Catherine. With that information in hand, it had been easy to catch Dunn red-handed, in the act of switching out the codicil.
Returning his attention back to the confrontation, Darcy caught the end of Mr. Crampton’s comment. “… you are not the mistress of this house. Your daughter is, and you know it.”
His aunt’s reaction to that was spectacular. She flushed a fiery red, sputtering, “Anne is too feeble, too ill to even have a season, let alone manage anything! She has never managed de Bourgh House or Rosings; the role of mistress was left to me.”
“No, she only let you think that,” countered Mr. Crampton, a sly smile playing on his lips. “Your daughter told me that it was easier to let you think you were in charge than to force you to comply. She made sure that the tenants were cared for and had access to the latest agricultural techniques. She also kept me abreast of her investments and Rosings’ progress through frequent, detailed correspondence."
A bark of laughter escaped Lady Catherine as she crowed, “Now I know you are lying, because I monitored all the mail coming in and out of the estate! Never once did a piece of mail from your firm ever make it to my daughter.”
Darcy resisted the urge to laugh at his aunt. He saw the smug look on her face, but he knew that her latest statement, intended to bolster her case, was actually weakening it. Darcy debated letting her know of her error when Miss Elizabeth spoke up saying, “Anne and I knew you would prevent both of us from receiving any important correspondence, so I made arrangements to ensure that we could both receive and send mail.”
A smile crept across Darcy’s lips as he watched Miss Elizabeth stand up to the tyrant that was his aunt. So many people cowered before the woman that was Lady Catherine, but not Miss Elizabeth. He noticed the subtle confidence in her upward chin tilt and the inner light shining from her emerald eyes. The fact that she had such incredibly lovely eyes didn’t improve the situation. He was practically spellbound.
Lady Catherine, seething with fury, stalked toward Miss Elizabeth and sneered, “You scheming strumpet! How dare you undermine me, you ingrate, when you depend entirely on my largess for your very existence? The audacity!”
When Darcy noticed her arm start moving, as if to strike Miss Elizabeth, he reached out, grasping her wrist in a tight grip, saying, “You would not be attempting to strike Miss Elizabeth, would you, Aunt?” Every fiber of his being screamed at him to squeeze her wrist to the point of pain, but he held back. He had seen the widening of Miss Elizabeth’s eyes as she recognized Aunt Catherine’s intention. It incensed him to know his aunt would put such a look on Miss Elizabeth’s face.
“Unhand me!” Lady Catherine struggled to rip herself free, hissing, “I will discipline my staff in any way I see fit.”
“I see why you felt my visit to de Brough House was so urgent, Richard.” Darcy’s gaze snapped to the doorway where Richard and his uncle stood. It seemed he had missed their entrance while managing his aunt.
With a knowing quirk of his eyebrow and a brief nod towards Darcy, his uncle stepped forward, a silent greeting passing between them. He stepped away from his aunt, giving his uncle the room to face his sister. The air crackled with the anticipation of their conversation. It was a good thing really that his uncle would confront her because Darcy could not say what he might have done if his aunt tried his patience any further.
With a pointed look at Lady Catherine, Darcy moved to Miss Elizabeth’s side. He found he needed to be near her. The idea that she could have been harmed if he had not acted quickly enough was oddly distressing and he needed to assure himself of her well-being. He caught her eye; her smile, though steady, held a hint of weariness, but he was relieved to see it and know his aunt hadn’t completely intimidated her.
Darcy offered her his arm, and she took it without hesitation, standing closer to him than was her typical habit. When Miss Elizabeth squeezed his arm in what he presumed was gratitude or possibly a need for reassurance, he was quick to lay his free hand over her own on his arm. He was so absorbed in the pleasant tingle that had run up his appendage and to his heart that he nearly missed it when his aunt and uncle stopped glaring at each other and began trading verbal blows.
“I know what I saw when I walked in. You would have hit Lizzy had Darcy not stopped you. What could you have been thinking?” Despite a calm tone, Uncle Reggie’s voice held authority, a skill honed, Darcy guessed, through years of parliamentary debate.
Fists clenched at her side, Lady Catherine glared up at her brother, her voice sharp as she ranted, “Your insistence on granting that wretch more worth than she has is a disgrace. She is nothing but a cast-off child who should have been sent to the workhouse and as long as she is in my house, I will treat her how I choose. She does not know her place and I am only attempting to remind her. Frankly, it is your fault, as I blame you and Lewis for giving her delusions above her station.”
Tilting his head, Reginald Fitzwilliam, earl of Matlock, said, “I find it curious that you say that Lizzy has delusions above her station. When frankly, it is you who has forgotten your place in the world, and what little authority you actually have is at risk of completely slipping through your fingers. You risk much in your most recent power grab.” That caused Lady Catherine to take a step back from her brother, her mouth slightly agape.
Meanwhile, Uncle Reginald looked at Mr. Crampton, saying, “While I always enjoy seeing you, Dudley, it seems that you are not here for a friendly visit. What has my sister done this time?” He turned back to his sister, his eyes narrowed, and added, with a low, dangerous tone, “You can wipe that belligerent glare right off your face, Catty, you will not win this day.” The silence that followed was heavy with tension.
Elizabeth watched it all, grateful she was not currently the focus of Lady Catherine’s ire. She wanted to be courageous and say she could have confronted Lady Catherine without Darcy and the others, but admitted that she’d have been much less successful alone. She also found it was much nicer to be brave when the warmth of Mr. Darcy’s hand on her own reminded her he was there to support her. The near-miss with Lady Catherine was almost worth it for the strange pleasure she derived from her current safe and comfortable situation next to Mr. Darcy. It was rare that Elizabeth felt the warmth of protection and she could almost trick herself into believing she was cherished.
“You are familiar with this trespasser, Reginald?” Lady Catherine’s bark drew Elizabeth’s attention back to the confrontation.
“His father and I have worked together in parliament for what seems like decades, Catty. He is yet another person who will not kowtow to you. Now be quiet so that I can learn how much trouble you are in.”
Though there was an odd twitch in his lips, Mr. Crampton managed not to laugh. He cleared his throat and answered the earl’s previous question. “My Lord, it appears your sister had a lackey try to replace a codicil in your brother-in-law’s will for one that favored her.”
Clicking his tongue, the earl shook his head and, looking at his sister, said, “Really, Catty?” He then addressed Mr. Crampton, inquiring, “What did she award herself?”
Looking at Lady Catherine, Mr. Crampton declared, “It would seem your brother-in-law was generous enough to rescind her original jointure, instead bestowing upon her an estate, a substantial sum, and the right to remain Mistress of Rosings for the duration of her life.”
“How singular,” commented the earl, a hint of amusement in his voice. “How would that work with the fact that Rosings goes to my son, Richard, when Anne passes? Does she presume to be mistress over the woman he eventually marries?”
A loud, boisterous bark of laughter punctuated Richard’s dismissive, “Not bloody likely!”
Mr. Darcy spoke up from beside Elizabeth, adding his own inquiry, “My question is how can she stay mistress when in fact Anne has been mistress of the estate since Uncle Lewis passed?”
“You are all ridiculous!” cried Lady Catherine. “How do you know that the codicil in question is not the correct one? My husband was a good man. What is to say that he did not want what is best for me, what I deserve?”
“What you deserve? What you deserve is far less that an estate and control over Rosings. Do not ask for what you deserve, sister, because I may just give it to you!” Approaching Lady Catherine, the earl’s voice lowered, revealing an anger Elizabeth had never before witnessed in the kind man. “Do not think that I was unaware of how you have always treated Lizzie. To my shame, I permitted you to act unchecked until matters had reached this point, but no longer. I tell you now if you step one inch further out of line, you will not like my response.”
Though her eyes widened slightly, Lady Catherine did not shrink back from her brother. Nose in the air, she shrugged, saying, “I still say there is no way to know which copy of the codicil is the correct one. Who is to say that the hussy did not persuade this Dunn to add the codicil in her favor?”
The barb from Lady Catherine caused Mr. Darcy to tense, though had she not been close enough to feel his muscles shift, she might not have known. Looking up, she noticed a muscle in his jaw twitch. A cold rage burned in his eyes, making her breath catch painfully in her throat. While it seemed that Lady Catherine’s comment enraged Mr. Darcy, it was Mr. Crampton who responded first, countering, “Did you really believe I wouldn’t have taken precautions to protect the codicil as securely as the will itself? Just as with the will, there are multiple copies of the codicil with multiple barristers. Should you doubt the codicil’s authenticity, it is simple enough to demonstrate which document is genuine.”
With a venomous glare, Lady Catherine fixed Mr. Crampton in her sights, the intensity palpable but then, slowly, deliberately, her gaze swept across the others. Had her disapproval meant anything to any of them, it would have been quite a blow. It seemed, though, that Mr. Crampton was immune to the glares of disgruntled old women. Elizabeth could almost see the moment Lady Catherine dropped her farce of innocence. She shifted ever so slightly, shrugging as if shedding an uncomfortable cloak before beginning her tirade.
“My husband’s will is an insult to an esteemed personage such as myself. I demeaned myself by marrying him and if father had given me any choice in the matter, I would have married far above him.” Lady Catherine paced as she ranted, and Elizabeth wondered if she was glad to finally be able to vent her spleen. Spinning back around to face the group standing in the entryway Lady Catherine exclaimed, “I assumed that upon his death, I would finally receive my rightful inheritance: his family estate, a lifetime of comfort and even more important, the power I should have always had. I would be the mistress of Rosings with no interference from my weak and meddling husband.”
Though no one spoke up to counter her claims, Elizabeth could feel the weight of their ambivalence in the heavy silence, a palpable wall against her delusions of grandeur. Elizabeth even noticed that Uncle Reginald pinched the bridge of his nose the way he sometimes did when attempting to ward off a headache. It made Elizabeth wonder just how often people got headaches that were induced by being forced to spend time in Lady Catherine’s presence.
“But no,” Lady Catherine continued. “When he died, he left practically nothing to me and instead arranged for Anne, his dying daughter. A daughter who was so weak I could not even arrange a wedding for. Daughters are merely instruments for fulfilling their parents’ ambitions and for strengthening their families’ power, that I learned from my own dear father. And yet Anne could not even get that right. She will be the end of my husband’s line, and he still left most of it to her. Disgusting! What is even more despicable is that he arranged for Richard to get everything once Anne finally dies. When I learned that he even set up a codicil in regard to a girl who should have been nothing more than a servant, my sense of justice called me to act. Why are you hindering my move to correct so many wrongdoings?” Having worn herself out in her manic declarations, Lady Catherine stood there gasping and attempting to catch her breath. What was remarkable to Elizabeth was that she could tell that the woman thought she would have won them over with her impassioned speech.
Darcy glanced at the others, wondering who would respond to the insanity first. His uncle only waited a moment before asking, “Are you finished spewing your ridiculous drivel?” If Lady Catherine’s earlier glares had been icy, sharp shards of disdain, Uncle Reggie’s glare was molten, burning with furious anger.
When Lady Catherine’s mouth opened to gape at her younger brother, the earl took it as assent and said, “I am ashamed of you and, frankly, the way you speak would have most people ready to send you to Bedlam. I am fairly certain that after witnessing your horrendous behavior, Dudley here would be more than willing to help me make it happen.”
With a slight tilt of his head, Mr. Crampton murmured, “It would be a pleasure to help you in any way you request, Lord Matlock.” His comment caused Richard to smile and his aunt to sputter.
Uncle Reggie acknowledged Mr. Crampton’s comment with a smile before continuing, “Despite my inclination to see to it that you get what you truly deserve, I will allow you to remain here until your new home is ready for you to move there.” Glancing up the stairs, he added, “I have been told that my dear niece Anne will not be with us much longer and I expect for you to behave and allow her the courtesy of a loving, peaceful environment in the meantime. Your behavior during this time will dictate where that new home will be. And no, there is absolutely no chance that it will be Rosings.”
This shock moved Lady Catherine to find the power of speech once again, though she did not, it seemed, find discretion, saying, “I am the daughter of an earl, his oldest child. In a just world, I would be the head of this family. You should be doing all you can to assist me to correct this injustice! I deserve better than what he wanted for me, or what you are granting me. This is not to be borne, I insist on being satisfied! You cannot-”
“I can do whatever I deem correct! I am an earl!” he roared, finally stopping her rant before continuing on in a more normal tone. “While you may delude yourself, you have not fooled any of us. You are just a baronet’s widow, a commoner. You have no power to control anything. Any little comfort that you have is what others have deemed fit to grant you.”
Hands on hips, Lady Catherine retorted, “How dare you speak to me so! Our mother would be ashamed to know you.”
“No, our mother would be ashamed to know you , Catherine.” Uncle Reggie shook his head, face hard, adding, “Somehow, you overlooked the quiet dignity, the gentle compassion, and the unwavering integrity that defined our mother. She was exceptional, a stunning contrast to your grasping selfishness; her very memory is a rebuke to your crass behavior.”
For a moment Darcy wondered if his aunt was about to suffer an apoplexy, her face having gone a dark shade of puce and then white. Reginald Fitzwilliam, seemingly unfazed by his sister’s struggle, beckoned a nervous-looking footman standing near the edge of the room, commanding, “Take my sister to her rooms. She is overwrought and will not be partaking in our further discussions. Please stay outside her room to insure she rests as she should.”
The footman, his face pale, gave a shaky bow to the earl before approaching Lady Catherine. After a moment’s hesitation, he gestured for her to precede him up the stairs. With a huff, she marched up the stairs, her back ramrod straight. The group in the entryway stood in silence, the air thick with anticipation, until the resounding slam of the door above shattered the stillness.
The earl clasped his hands, a relieved smile gracing his lips as he stated, “With that unpleasant business concluded, let us proceed with the task at hand.”
Nodding, Miss Elizabeth said, “By all means, let us adjourn to the parlor. I think we could all do with a cup of tea and possibly a treat after everything.”
Darcy instinctively stayed close to Miss Elizabeth’s side, not wanting to leave her, just in case she had been affected by his aunt’s triad than she would allow herself to show. His little sister would have been in tears after such an outrageous display. It was possible that Miss Elizabeth’s composure was a carefully constructed facade; Darcy, a master of self-control himself, could understand an unwillingness to show any vulnerability. He stayed close, watching her as the group shifted locations.
He settled onto the plush settee beside her just as a maid arrived, bearing a gleaming silver tea service laden with delicate china cups and a fragrant pot of Earl Grey for Miss Elizabeth to dispense. Darcy took a moment to look around the room, observing everyone. It was peculiar to witness the soothing warmth and the calming scent of the tea chase away the earlier agitation, leaving a sense of tranquility in the room.
Mr. Crampton was the first to speak from his chair by the fire. “Whatever else I want to say today, I want to make a point of recognizing your fortitude, Miss Elizabeth. To have spent the majority of your life in that woman’s sphere can have only been a tremendous burden. I may have only just met you in person, but I can easily tell that you’ve risen above Lady Catherine’s scorn, showcasing a strength and elegance that any person of sense must respect. Sir Lewis was right about you; your decision to remain at Rosings, foregoing better prospects due to your commitment to Miss de Bourgh and her household, speaks volumes.”
Miss Elizabeth’s eyes widened, her voice softening as she asked, “Did Uncle Lewis mention me?”
“While we rarely met in person, we corresponded fairly often, and your name came up more than once,” answered Mr. Crampton with a smile.
Putting down his teacup on a side table, Richard spoke up. “Though I hate to disrupt the lovely sentimentality, I do wonder at the point of this gathering. It cannot have been solely to route my aunt, though I chiefly enjoyed the experience of seeing her so defeated.”
“Our purpose here,” Darcy said, “is to devise a plan and prepare for Anne’s inevitable death, correct?”