Page 20 of Reputation, an Easy Thing to Lose (Reputation Verse #1)

Chapter 19

Rumours

Darcy House, Mayfair, Lo ndon

3 June 1813

T he day to depart London for Pemberley was seven days away. One week. One-hundred sixty-eight hours. Darcy had seven peaceful family breakfasts, seven enjoyable luncheons at home or White’s, and seven terribly stressful dinners at some notable townhouse where there would likely be at least one lady trying to get his attention or, worse, some dandy trying to engage Georgiana.

If only he could cancel the bloody house party which would follow them for an additional two w eeks.

His aunt decided that Georgiana would host the most perfect house party for all their most dear relations and friends. So, naturally, nearly sixty people would be invading his home for the last two weeks of June. All six Nottinghams, four Derbys, three Bristols, five Matlocks plus Anne de Bourgh, two Bingleys, two Hursts, one Lady Sefton, plus companions and servants would be coming together in a large caravan to Pemberley. At least Georgiana had been able to issue her own invitations instead of allowing Aunt Matlock to order them. The Darcys were able to include Jane and Mary Bennet in the party without the countess vetoing the ladies’ inclu sion.

Now Darcy needed to figure out how to orchestrate a major catastrophe somewhere on the estate so he could disappear for the entire e vent.

This morning was dedicated to making plans and writing letters detailing instructions to Mrs. Reynolds regarding the party. Elizabeth and Georgiana were organizing several picnics, outings to the local sights, and hopefully a traveling troupe of musicians for one of the last nights. Darcy’s only suggestion so far for an activity was a chess tournament one evening after di nner.

Elizabeth had been making lists of instructions to Mrs. Reynolds for several days now, and was finally putting the finishing touches on her nearly five -p age letter as the front doorknocker sounded loudly and was easily heard from the study where all three Darcys were working. As it was nearly one p.m., certainly not the calling hour, and a Thursday instead of Tuesday, the family ignored the interruption. That is until the interruption came barging into the room with the ridiculous thump - t hump -t hump of a cane and the shrieking voice of Lady Cathe rine.

Wilton Row, Belgravia, Lo ndon

3 June 1813—11AM S harp

The Bingleys’ butler was used to many people coming in and out of the townhouse, and prided himself on knowing the relations of each person who graced his door. But this morning, he was sure he had never seen the supposed lady before, nor had he ever even heard of her from the tittering amongst the various guests who frequented the home. But her card said she was sister to the Earl of Matlock and widow of an unknown knight, so he let the lady into the parlour while he went in search of his mistress, Caroline Bin gley.

At the mention of Lady Catherine’s name, Caroline was thrown into a tizzy. Her normal day for receiving callers was Friday, not Thursday, and she was loathe to entertain this particular guest when she wanted to be sitting at her window watching the fashionable of London meander onto the Rotten Row. But one does not ignore a guest with a title in their home, so she checked her appearance and proceeded into the par lour.

Lady Catherine had found the most ornate chair with slightly taller legs than the other furniture in the room and was sitting in it, as if she were the Queen ready to receive ladies for presentation. Already, Caroline was annoyed, because she usually sat in that chair. But you know what they say about ‘great’ minds. In order to hide her annoyance, Caroline curtsied deeply and greeted Darcy’s aunt into her home, offering tea and c akes.

“No thank you, Miss Bingley. I would like no refreshment. You can be at no loss as to the reason for my visit this mor ning.”

“Indeed, you are mistaken, madam. I have not been at all able to account for the honour of seeing you here.” Caroline tried to remain sweet but strong in her conviction that this was her house, and she was not going to be bullied by a recluse, no matter her t itle.

“Miss Bingley,” replied her ladyship, in an angry tone, “you ought to know that I am not to be trifled with. But, however insincere you may choose to be, you shall not find me so. My character has ever been celebrated for its sincerity and frankness, and in a cause of such moment as this, I shall certainly not depart from it. A report of a most alarming nature reached me last night. I was told that not only was your brother on the point of being most advantageously married to some titled lady, but that you, that Miss Caroline Bingley, would, in all likelihood, be soon afterwards united to my nephew, my own nephew, Mr. Darcy. Though I know it must be a scandalous falsehood, though I would not injure him so much as to suppose the truth of it possible, I instantly resolved on setting off for this place, that I might make my sentiments known to you.”

“If you believed it impossible to be true,” said Caroline, colouring with astonishment and disdain, “I wonder you took the trouble of coming to our home, which you have never before visited. What could your ladyship propose b y it?”

“At once, to insist upon having such a report universally contradi cted.”

“Your coming to Wilton Row, to see me and my brother,” said Caroline coolly, “will be rather a confirmation of it, if indeed, such a report is in existence.” At this, Caroline flipped open her fan and began lazily fanning herself to try and cool the redness coming onto her ch eeks.

“If! Do you then pretend to be ignorant of it? Has it not been industriously circulated by yourselves? Do you not know that such a report is spread to all of Lo ndon?”

“I may have heard that it was.”

“And can you likewise declare there is no foundation fo r it?”

“I do not pretend to possess equal frankness with your ladyship. You may ask questions which I shall not choose to an swer.”

“This is not to be borne. Miss Bingley, I insist on being satisfied. Has he, has my nephew, made you an offer of marr iage?”

“Your ladyship has declared it to be imposs ible.”

“It ought to be so; it must be so, while he retains the use of his reason. But your arts and allurements may, in a moment of infatuation, have made him forget what he owes to himself and to all his family. You may have drawn hi m in.”

“If I have, I shall be the last person to confes s it.”

“Miss Bingley, do you know who I am? I have not been accustomed to such language as this. I am almost the nearest relation he has in the world, and am entitled to know all his dearest conc erns.”

“But you are not entitled to know mine; nor will such behaviour as this, ever induce me to be expl icit.”

“Let me be rightly understood. This match, to which you have the presumption to aspire, can never take place. No, never. Mr. Darcy is engaged to my daughter. Now what have you to say?”

“Only this; that all of London knows that to be a lie.”

Lady Catherine hesitated for a moment, and then replied, “The engagement between them is of a peculiar kind. From their infancy, they have been intended for each other. It was the favourite wish of his mother, as well as of her’s. While in their cradles, we planned the union: and now, at the moment when the wishes of both sisters would be accomplished in their marriage, to be prevented by a young woman of inferior birth, of no importance in the world, and wholly unallied to the family! Do you pay no regard to the wishes of his friends? To his tacit engagement with Miss De Bourgh? Are you lost to every feeling of propriety and delicacy? Have you not heard me say that from his earliest hours he was destined for his co usin?”

“Yes, and I had heard it before. But what is that to me? If there is no other objection to my marrying your nephew, I shall certainly not be kept from it by knowing that his mother and aunt wished him to marry Miss De Bourgh. You both did as much as you could in planning the marriage. Its completion depended on others. If Mr. Darcy is neither by honour nor inclination confined to his cousin, why is not he to make another choice? And if I am that choice, why may not I accept him?”

“Because honour, decorum, prudence, nay, interest, forbid it. Yes, Miss Bingley, interest. For, do not expect to be noticed by his family or friends if you wilfully act against the inclinations of all. You will be censured, slighted and despised by everyone connected with him. Your alliance will be a disgrace; your name will never even be mentioned by any o f us.”

“These are heavy misfortunes,” replied Caroline. “But the wife of Mr. Darcy must have such extraordinary sources of happiness necessarily attached to her situation that she could, upon the whole, have no cause to re pine.”

“Obstinate, headstrong girl! I am ashamed of you! You are to understand, Miss Bingley, that I came here with the determined resolution of carrying my purpose; nor will I be dissuaded from it. I have not been used to submit to any person’s whims. I have not been in the habit of brooking disappoint ment.”

“That will make your ladyship’s situation at present more pitiable, but it will have no effect o n me.”

“I will not be interrupted. Hear me in silence. My daughter and my nephew are formed for each other. They are descended on the maternal side from the same noble line, and on the father’s from respectable, honourable, and ancient—though untitled—families. Their fortune on both sides is splendid. They are destined for each other by the voice of every member of their respective houses, and what is to divide them? The upstart pretensions of a young woman without family or connections, and with a fortune tainted by trade. Is this to be endured? But it must not, shall not, be. If you were sensible of your own good, you would not wish to quit the sphere in which you have been brough t up.”

“In marrying your nephew, I should not consider myself as quitting that sphere. I have been raised as one of the elite of London, and my brother was given a gentleman’s education. My family in this generation is every bit the social equal of the Da rcys.”

“True. You brother has a gentleman’s education but that does not make him a gentleman. Do not imagine me ignorant of your true situa tion.”

“Whatever my connections may be,” said Caroline, “if your nephew does not object to them, they can be nothing to you.”

“Tell me, once for all, are you engaged to him?”

Though Caroline would not, for the mere purpose of obliging Lady Catherine, have answered this question, she could not but say after a moment’s deliberation, “As of today, I am not.”

Lady Catherine seemed pleased. “And will you promise me never to enter into such an engage ment?”

“I will make no promise of the kind.”

“Miss Bingley, I am shocked and astonished. I expected to find a more reasonable young woman. But do not deceive yourself into a belief that I will ever recede. I shall not go away ‘til you have given me the assurance I req uire.”

“And I certainly never shall give it. I am not to be intimidated into anything so wholly unreasonable. Do not think me blind. Your ladyship wants Mr. Darcy to marry your daughter, but would my giving you the wished -f or promise make their marriage at all more probable? Supposing him to be attached to me, would my refusing to accept his hand make him wish to bestow it on his cousin? I must beg, therefore, to be importuned no farther on the sub ject.”

“Not so hasty, if you please. I have by no means done. To all the objections I have already urged, I have still another to add. I am no stranger to the particulars of your family’s assent into the ton . I know it all; that your father and grandfather were nothing but common mill workers who were able to secure financial gain by marrying into the merchant classes, and how your sister’s marriage to the Hursts bought your brother a gentleman’s education, but he still earns his money from trade! And is such a man to be my nephew’s brother? Such a man may be a friend from university, but as a relation and then with connections to the honourable Earldom of Matlock? Heaven and earth! Of what are you thinking? Are the shades of Pemberley to be thus poll uted?”

“You can now have nothing farther to say,” Caroline resentfully answered. “You have insulted me in every possible method. I must beg you to leave my h ouse.”

She rose as she spoke. Lady Catherine rose also. Her ladyship was highly incensed. “You have no regard, then, for the honour and credit of my nephew! Unfeeling, selfish girl! Do you not consider that a connection with you must disgrace him in the eyes of every body?”

“Lady Catherine, I have nothing farther to say. You know my sentim ents.”

“You are then resolved to have him?”

Caroline replied with steel in her eyes. “Yes. I shall have him.”

“It is well. You refuse, then, to oblige me. You refuse to obey the claims of duty, honour, and gratitude. You are determined to ruin him in the opinion of all his friends, and make him the contempt of the w orld.”

“Neither duty, nor honour, nor gratitude,” replied Caroline, “have any possible claim on me, in the present instance. You can be assured that I plan to become Mrs. Darcy by the end of the summer. If his friends believe him ruined or trapped, I shall not be both ered.”

“And this is your real opinion! This is your final resolve! Very well. I shall now know how to act. Do not imagine, Miss Bingley, that your ambition will ever be gratified. I came to try you; I hoped to find you reasonable, but depend upon it, I will carry my p oint.”

At this last declaration, Lady Catherine swept her skirts around the legs of the chair she had been occupying and strode from the room as if she owned the whole row of houses. Her cane made violent strikes on the parquet flooring as she left through the front door without even acknowledging the bu tler.

Darcy House, Mayfair, Lo ndon

3 June 1813

Lady Catherine was still shrieking at the top of her lungs several minutes after the inhabitants of Darcy’s study had overcome the shock of the intrusion. Unfortunately, no one had yet to decipher what it was that she was carrying on about. From the decided sway to her stance and the redness in her cheeks, Elizabeth decided it was time to inter vene.

“My Lady, please, take this seat and I shall fetch you a refreshment. Would you prefer tea, or perhaps a nice wine with which to calm yourself?” The large, overstuffed wingback chair from the side of the room was moved to directly in front of the large desk where all three Darcy’s had previously been working on preparations for the coming house p arty.

Though she stopped her high -p itched speech, Lady Catherine’s ire had not yet abated. “I never drink wine this early in the day. How ridiculous! A lady is liable to get drunk before she is even dressed for dinner. Whatever made you think this uneducated country maid was a suitable companion for Georgiana, William? Tea, Miss Elizabeth, and a strong brew with two lumps of sugar plus a measure of cream. Have the maid bring it and leave us. I must speak to my nephew without the help gossiping behind our b acks.”

Darcy and Georgiana were respectively furious and embarrassed by their aunt’s treatment of the one person in the whole world who was kindly seeing to the comfort of the ridiculous woman. Elizabeth kept reminding herself that it was all for the sake of their sis ters.

Darcy had just about had enough of his relation’s demands this day and was fighting the urge to tell his Aunt to leave and never return. “Aunt Catherine, you can say your piece in front of Miss Elizabeth. She is more a member of the household than a servant, and my house staff is very loyal in any case. Besides, your tirade has already divulged whatever you wanted to keep secret to anyone inside the house and quite possibly the inhabitants of the next address as well. Now, please tell us calmly what has you in such a s tate.”

“Tell me, nephew. Are you planning on offering for that awful Bingley woman? I will not have it, you know! She is wholly unaccept able!”

All three Darcys were so relieved that this easily -d ispelled nonsense was what had Lady Catherine so infuriated, they each let out a surprised laugh. “Truly, Aunt Catherine, this is what you have become enraged about?” Darcy asked. “Some rumour, likely started by Caroline Bingley herself and believed by absolutely no one in the ton , that I am on the verge of declaring myself to her? Let me put your mind at ease: I do not now have plans to offer for her, nor will I ever entertain such a ridiculous notion. Caroline Bingley will turn into a bitter spinster waiting on my prop osal.”

Lady Catherine calmed somewhat, but she was not nearly done with her interrogation of her nephew. “While that is a relief to hear, I am telling you: watch that harpy. She is the kind that would try to entrap you into marriage, and if her sister’s in -l aw decide to get involved with any perceived scandal, it shall take the total combined power of the Fitzwilliam, Darcy, and de Bourgh names to stop Lady Se fton.”

“I assure you, I have known for quite some time that Miss Bingley is determined to have me, and I never allow myself to be separated from the company during social engagements. Richard and Charles Bingley have always been diligent to provide witness that I have never compromised any lady trying to entrap the Darcy fortune. These precautions have saved me from a number of plots since university, and I do not intend to stop now.”

“If you would hurry up and marry Anne, none of this would even be an issue. There would be nothing to entrap. Georgiana could have a suitable chaperone, Miss Elizabeth could move on to more suitable employ, and Anne could be rightfully instilled at Pemberley as the new mist ress.”

Any humour in the situation drained from Darcy in an instant, and he was once again furious with his aunt. “Lady Catherine, I have informed you on multiple occasions that it is not my intention to marry Anne. She is neither inclined towards me nor am I bound to her. There will never be a union between us, so you should start looking elsewhere for her prosp ects.”

“You cannot turn your back on her now! All of London expects your marriage! I have even ordered the invitations for a lovely August wedding in Kent. I had hoped for a June wedding at St. Margaret’s with the wedding breakfast at Matlock house, but you have taken your time with the formal appeal, and my sister Matlock could not be bothered to make the arrangements. Then the new St. Margaret’s bishop, who claims not to know me, refused to schedule the ceremony without confirmation from the groom! Well, my vicar in Hunsford was most obliging, and of course the Rosings Park servants could have the breakfast ready with hardly a day’s notice. After the ceremony, you will take your wedding trip to the Lakes and return home to Pemberley before Michae lmas.”

“Excuse me?” It was Elizabeth who found her voice first and exclaimed the question each was screaming inside their h eads.

“Did I not already dismiss you, Miss Elizabeth? How unacceptable that you should speak to your employer’s family in such a tone. Really, Fitzwilliam, you must let her go this instant. Publish the engagement announcement with the London papers to be run this week and let Anne welcome your guests to the house party as the expected mistress. She can even tour the family apartments during the party and plan updates to be completed before you finish your wedding trip.”

It was Georgiana who spoke up this time. “Aunt Catherine, Elizabeth is my companion to dismiss or keep by my side, and in truth, she is a member of our family in such a way that we do not restrict her movements inside the house. I would never be so impolite as to send her away. You are not mistress of this house, and no matter your relation to the master, your place is not to direct the members of our home. Now, please apologize to Elizabeth for your unending rudeness.” Georgiana spoke with a calm directness that none had yet heard from the young lady. The similarity to Lady Catherine’s sweet, but determined, baby sister was never so apparent. She had never allowed anyone to abuse the Fitzwilliam or Darcy servants, from the most respectable upstairs staff to the lowliest stable boy. Lady Anne Darcy always said that each deserved respect and kindness for all their hard work.

The thought of her beloved baby sister whose life was cut tragically short by the whims of nature induced Lady Catherine to actually issue the demanded apology. “Forgive me, Miss Elizabeth. This is your home and I should not assume the role of mistress where I do not rightfully hold that t itle.”

Elizabeth respectfully nodded her head. “Thank you, my lady, I shall think on it no more.”

When the scene in front of him came to a close, Darcy finally regained his voice. “Lady Catherine, I must insist that you repeat your declaration regarding some invitations to a Kent wedding in August. Did I hear you correctly, that you have actually ORDERED invitations declaring my wedding to your daughter in two mo nths?”

“Yes, Fitzwilliam. I was worried that if you proposed too late in the season, they would not arrive in time to have the wedding when the orchids are in bloom. You know how much Anne loves the orchids in her father’s greenh ouse.”

Fitzwilliam George James Darcy stood from his chair, gathered his full height, straightened his jacket and waist coat, and then fixed his aunt with the most intimidating stare. “I will say this exactly one time more, then the subject shall be forever closed, and no one in this house shall even acknowledge you if you speak on it again. I will not marry Anne, ever. Nothing you do, neither rumours you have spread, nor invitations you have ordered, shall change my mind. I suggest you give up this fool’s errand before you irreversibly hurt your daughter. Incidentally, I had no idea that Anne loves orchids. We are not overly fond of each other and rarely converse beyond mild pleasantries. Perhaps you were thinking of Richard. He is the gentleman who often entertains our cousin during visits to Rosings Park. In fact, I bring him along for most visits to provide a buffer between Anne and myself. Good day, Aunt. I hope you have a pleasant trip back to Kent.” Without another word, Darcy left the study and walked straight up the staircase to the family wing, looking for relief in the one place even his overbearing aunt would not follow: the master’s bedroom s uite.

The three ladies left in the study watched Darcy ascend the stairs, quiet with their own thou ghts.

Georgiana spoke once Darcy turned out of their collective sight. “Aunt Catherine, my brother is very serious on this matter. You should allow my cousin Anne to direct her own future. She is a young woman who deserves to make decisions that will increase her happiness. This season, she has danced with some eligible men and enjoyed the company of her Fitzwilliam family. Surely there is another gentleman of her acquaintance that you would find an acceptable suitor whom Anne prefers to my brother. I believe I can name several right now, and some even with titles of their own. Lord Captain Thurston Finch comes to mind.”

Lady Catherine’s affronted face would have been comical if not for the disgust evident in her features. “An army captain! How ridicu lous!”

Georgiana tried with mild success to hide her eye roll. “A decorated army captain with a valuable commission who is the son of the Earl of Nottingham. The second sons and even third sons deserve to find happy marriages too.”

“Well, perhaps I shall ask Anne what she prefers and allow her to produce a list of alternatives to Fitzwilliam. But if word of your brother’s jilt of my Anne begins to damage her reputation, I shall know how to act! I shall insist he do the honourable t hing!”

This time Georgiana did not even try to stop the eye roll. “Aunt, not one person amongst the ton believes that my brother and my cousin are engaged, even under such particular circumstances upon which you like to expound. She shall not be ‘jilted’ by rumours amongst our social acquaintances, rather, her reputation might be tainted by her mother’s unseemly and presumptuous behaviour. I caution you to cease your proclamations about their impending marriage, for William is not to be moved here. He will not marry Anne.”

“Humph.” Lady Catherine set down her teacup, rapped her cane on the floor twice, and then rose from her seat. “I must be going. I’ve already spent much too long here. Thank you for the tea. Enjoy the rest of your afternoon, dear.”

Georgiana rang for the doorman and accompanied her aunt into the foyer to issue a proper goo dbye.

Just before the grand lady swept out of the front door, she paused and half turned her head and shoulders back towards Georg iana.

“Please let me say, my dear, how much you remind me of my dear sister, Lady Anne, every day. You have certainly grown into a beautiful and graceful young lady.” Then, Lady Catherine was over the threshold, down the front steps, and ushered into her waiting carriage before the lone tear fell from Georgiana’s c heek.