Page 33 of Rumours & Recklessness (Sweet Escapes Collection #1)

Chapter 31

“A unt Catherine! How wonderful to see you this morning! I do hope you have not given yourself too much trouble in coming to us here in Hertfordshire.” Richard bowed grandly before his aunt. “And Cousin Anne, delightful to see you again! I had no notion you had travelled as well.” Richard gently took his cousin’s hand and led her to a comfortable chaise within convenient distance of the hearth.

Bingley had joined Fitzwilliam in solidarity as the guests entered his parlour, but with one look at Caroline, he commanded his sister to withdraw. She followed him with an astounding meekness, possibly boding well for future relations between brother and sister. The pair retreated from the ensuing family spectacle, Bingley casting a brief commiserating glance toward Fitzwilliam.

“Fitzwilliam!” Lady Catherine spat. “Where is Georgiana?”

“Oh, likely still dressing, Aunt. Darcy spoils her, you know. She never rises above ten in the morning.”

Lady Catherine pointed her cane at him. “She is a Darcy! I know better, Fitzwilliam. Bring her to me at once!”

“Still in her nightdress! Why, of course, Aunt, I shall try, but her maid is a rather stout young thing. She will not take kindly to….”

“Have her sent down immediately, with all of her luggage!” Lady Catherine bellowed. “I am taking my niece and leaving this barbaric country!”

“Oh, I wouldn’t do that, Aunt,” Richard shook his head, his manner hardening somewhat. “Darcy wishes for her to remain where she is, and do you know… I saw the guardianship papers myself.” His voice was soft, but a practised ear could discern the threatening edge to his tone.

“How dare you, Richard Fitzwilliam!” Lady Catherine raised her cane again as if to strike. “I can bury you! One letter to your commanding officer….”

“And what, Catherine?” boomed a deep voice.

Lady Catherine whirled, her face blanching in denial. Her nephew and brother had entered the room, both looking something the worse for their hasty travels. Darcy had hurriedly donned a fresh coat and combed his hair, but his blouse ruffles remained limp, his cravat pitiful, and his breeches dotted still with flecks of mud.

Matlock crossed his arms, a manner he affected only with wayward children and his recalcitrant sister. “You were saying something to my son, Catherine?” he demanded again.

She found her voice. “You went back to London! What are you doing here, James? Of all the deceitful, manipulative, unworthy conduct!”

“Yes, that is how I would characterize it,” he levelled an icy stare at his sister. “It so happens that I enjoy travelling in freezing weather in the dead of the night. Let me be understood, Catherine. My son is not your concern!”

Lady Catherine’s ire switched to Darcy. “My nephew is! Fitzwilliam George Richard Darcy, you will go down on your knee this instant and do your duty to your cousin! You have shirked your responsibilities for far too long, and your lack of honour has had serious consequences on Anne’s health! You have distressed her long enough, and this time, you will capitulate!”

“No, Aunt Catherine, I will not.” Darcy’s voice was steady and even, as though he were discussing crop rotation with his steward. “I regret to cause my cousin any pain, but I have never desired the connection you say exists. Even should I wish it, my hand is no longer my own to bestow. Another has a claim on my honour.”

“That vile temptress ! You cannot ally yourself with that chit , Darcy! She would taint us all! That the shades of Pemberley should be polluted by such a —a scheming, low-born...” Her words were cut off when Darcy took three long strides and towered over her, his face inches from hers and his eyes blazing.

“You would do well to check your words, Madam !” The lady reeled, and her mouth dropped in scandalized fury at Darcy’s blatant omission of her title. “Miss Bennet is to be Mistress of Pemberley and of Darcy House, and guests shall be welcomed or repulsed at her pleasure. Her nature is more generous than mine, but I promise you, Madam , I will not tolerate any insults to my wife!”

Lady Catherine trembled, her gnarled fingers reaching blindly for a piece of furniture by which she might support herself. “Did you hear that, Brother? Your nephew has lost his mind and become violent besides! I shall see your reputation ruined in the ton , Darcy!”

The earl laughed menacingly. “How might you expect to do that, Catherine? You will exhaust your daughter’s resources and ruin yourself in the process!”

She shot out her hand, extending one long withered finger. “I am not without my means, James!” She rounded on Darcy, pointing that same finger at him. “I know all about Georgiana!”

Darcy staggered back and paled. “What?”

Fitzwilliam was at his side in a moment. “Impossible!” he cried. “What can you possibly….” Darcy stopped him with a subtle shake of his head.

Their fearful exchange was not lost on any of the room’s occupants. Anne’s eyes widened, and Matlock glared quizzically at the pair.

Lady Catherine smelled blood in the water. A triumphant smirk blossomed on her face. “I know,” she stalked closer, “that she was alone at Netherfield with that son of a tradesman! You abandoned your duty to her, Darcy, to call on that trollop and left Georgiana to be compromised! I know he was alone in a carriage with her! She is ruined, Darcy, or will be when my solicitor receives the notice I posted to him yesterday. His directive was to release that information through all of his contacts if you do not satisfy me immediately !”

Darcy and Fitzwilliam both stared in dumbfounded bewilderment. Then, as one, their frames began to quiver. Darcy, however, was beginning to laugh, while Fitzwilliam trembled with rage. “How dare you do such a thing!” the colonel snarled. Had his aunt not been a woman—the word lady was questionably and rather too generously applied—he would have had his hands about her throat.

Darcy halted him with a hand on his shoulder. “An interesting attempt, Aunt Catherine, but Bingley is an engaged man. Additionally, he is very strict with chaperones. There is never a room without a footman, and Georgiana’s maid accompanies her at all times.”

“That matters not,” she waved a hand blithely. “A hint of scandal is all that is required. Do you seriously think anyone would take the word of a maid over mine? She will never make her presentation at court, Darcy! No one would risk an association with a tainted woman. That friend of yours will be forced to marry her if she is to save face at all, and what will happen to your pretty little Miss Bennet then? I fancy she will not defend the Darcy family quite so well once her sister has been abandoned for their sake, will she?

“You see...” she raised her cane, stepping forward, “I know all about her, too! You only barely won her consent, Darcy, and you certainly have not her father’s yet. Her greed may have caused her to accept you after a fashion, but she does not like you. The insolent little chit may have some sense, after all—you never had any prepossessing traits, Darcy! Too much like your father, but that matters not to me. I have only to threaten Georgiana and offend that Bennet girl, and you have no recourse but to do as I wish!”

“Enough!” Matlock pushed between his son and nephew, both of whom by now were taking turns between anguished pallor and righteous fury. “Catherine, you go too far!”

“Do I, James? Why have you never checked him? He has been allowed to disappoint Anne for far too long! Unconscionable that a Darcy should shirk his duty!”

Matlock clenched his fists, then his glare shifted from his sister to, surprisingly, his niece. “Anne?” He lifted his bushy brows in an unspoken question.

Darcy was struggling and gasping for breath with the torrent of feeling washing over him. His selfish obsession with Elizabeth Bennet may have involved those dearest to him in a scandal of magnificent proportions. Regret for Bingley, fear for Georgiana, and abject terror at the threat of losing Elizabeth now mingled with remorse for his treatment of his cousin. Anne had done nothing to deserve his vehement rejection, yet he had stood in this very room and declared a stranger more important to him than the cousin he had known since infancy. What disgust she must feel!

His eyes leaden with sorrow, he watched as Anne rose from the chaise with quiet strength. With each step toward them, she seemed to grow in confidence. By the time she had drawn close, Darcy’s eyebrows were arched in wonder. Anne de Bourgh, his sickly cousin, poised herself next to her mother with every inch the dignity and grace of her rank. His shock at her sudden shift in manner was only exceeded by the soft words which she now spoke.

“Mother, I have no wish to marry my brother.”

The two young men were absolutely speechless with horror, but their reaction paled beside the wrathful being of their aunt. “ Anne! ” She made a grasp for her daughter’s person, which Anne swiftly dodged with surprising adeptness. “ You are not well! ” her mother snarled, her lips curled and her bloodshot eyes flashing. Another vicious swipe of her hand landed on Anne’s shoulder, pushing the young woman back so that, without a quick save by Fitzwilliam, she might truly have fallen.

She recovered swiftly and spun with new energy to face her mother. “No, Mother, I am quite well, and I have been so for years.” She turned her light eyes to Darcy’s, and for the first time, he noticed how very much like Georgiana she did look. Her burst of vigour lent new spirit to her features, and he stared back into the face of… whom? His sister?

Anne darted a quick glance to her uncle, desiring his reassurance, and then drew a deep fortifying breath. “Yes, William. Uncle told me years ago. He thought I had a right to know. I was fifteen, and Mother was starting to make demands on you already.”

“I have heard enough of this!” Lady Catherine sliced her finger toward Matlock’s chest as though she would have skewered him had it been a mite longer. “Anne, we are leaving!”

“ You are going nowhere, Catherine!” the earl roared, his face more violent than either his son or nephew had ever seen. “It is time this was known! I will not see you continue to try to force Darcy into such a shameful, sinful union! Had he shown any inclination for it, I would have told him as well, years ago! Now he deserves to know what you have been trying to foist upon him!”

“You know nothing!” she shrieked. “I will see you ruined as well, James Fitzwilliam!”

“You would not dare risk it,” he scoffed. Turning back to Darcy, his tones mellowed in consideration for his nephew, who looked nearly faint. “My father, the earl, was good friends with your grandfather, Darcy. They determined when we were young that their eldest children—your father and Catherine—should marry. However, your father had his sights set on Anne, the youngest of all of us. He was almost as stubborn as you are, I’m afraid, and eventually, his suit was accepted. Catherine,” he shot his sister a moody glare, “was obsessed with your father, and I believe Pemberley as well, and never forgave him for passing her over.”

He stopped his narrative to calmly deflect a savage blow from that lady’s cane. With a hand tightened around her upper arm, the earl shoved the great and noble lady toward the door. She writhed, her feet dragging behind as she slashed and howled, spewing all manner of vitriol at her relatives. With a firm yank, the earl opened the door of the sitting room and commanded two footmen at the door, “See her to her carriage. Miss de Bourgh shall be staying behind.”

Lady Catherine flailed wildly, thrashing her arms. “Unhand me! How dare you lay a hand on a peeress!”

“They dare at my command, Catherine!” the earl hissed menacingly. “You would do well to remember that! Go back to Rosings and take that vermin of a parson with you!” He slammed the door of the study, only slightly muting the outraged cries of his sister as the strong young footmen dragged her bodily to her carriage.

Matlock returned to the three young people, his manner nonchalant. Anne was smothering a little smile, but Darcy and Richard were by no means master of themselves. Both were white as ghosts. It was Darcy’s place to speak, but it was another moment before he could find any words. At last, he managed a shaky beginning.

“Uncle,” his voice was nearly a whisper, “you level a very serious accusation at my father’s door.”

The earl heaved the weary sigh of the aged. “It was not quite like that, my boy.” He glanced at Anne, then continued. “I doubt he would have even realized… your mother was very ill after your birth, Darcy. It took her years to conceive, and when she did, she had a dreadful time of it. We all thought we had lost her. Your father took it very hard, blamed himself. He spent most evenings closeted in his study with a large bottle. I think the Darcy cellars have never suffered as much plundering as they did in those days. I thank heaven, my boy, that you are not one given to drink! A wealthy man in his cups can be very vulnerable under such an influence.” He shook his head regretfully. “George was not at all master of himself when he drank.”

Darcy and Fitzwilliam exchanged a quick, bemused glance, which the earl promised himself he would get to the bottom of later. Shrugging his shoulders, however, he forged on. “I was at Pemberley, as were most of the family when your mother was so ill. I remember going to check on your father in his study, and Catherine had just emerged. No one else was about. She passed it off as of no consequence, but Anne’s birth later that year was rather coincidentally timed.” He spared his niece a sympathetic smile. “Catherine looked a deal like your mother still in those days. Old Sir Lewis never had any children with his first wife, and there were never any others after Anne.”

Darcy was trembling, and he put a shaking hand to his forehead. “I need to sit down, Uncle.” Fitzwilliam, beginning to recover more quickly, clapped him comfortingly on the shoulder and steered him to the sofa.

Darcy was blinking rapidly, his eyes blurring with the scandalized fear and outrage of what his aunt had wrought. His own father imposed upon, taken advantage of, his cousin the unwitting result of an illicit union, and his own prospects only narrowly escaping such a blight. It was beyond the pale! Nothing could have previously induced him to believe his own family might have concealed such a black secret.

“I know what you’re thinking, my boy,” the earl sighed again, finding his own seat. “Why did I not tell you sooner?”

“I—I suspect that might have come to mind next, had my thoughts been able to organize so well.”

“Well, I never could bear to let your father know. He would never have forgiven himself. I told Anne, and of course, my Lady Matlock. We three decided that Anne should feign poor health until we could decide what else could be done about Catherine’s expectations. You needed a healthy bride, of course; your father was rather insistent on that point after losing your mother. Catherine would never have accepted another suitor for Anne unless you were off the market, my boy. Bloody long time you took going about it.”

Darcy looked again at Anne, the mystery still holding him in awe. “But I have seen you! You are so pale, Anne, and you do not eat….”

Anne’s mouth pulled to the side in a shy smile. “Mother would not be satisfied until I had seen her doctor. He bleeds me frequently and keeps me on the strictest of regimens. I do not get much exercise. Those concoctions he has been using recently make me even more fatigued. Mrs Jenkinson helps me keep up the act as well.”

Darcy dropped his face to his hands, his mind registering the selfish role he had played in the living nightmare his cousin had been subjected to. “I am sorry, Anne,” he murmured. “Had I only acted sooner….”

“It is not your fault, William,” she answered softly. “Uncle has been offering me sanctuary and help claiming my inheritance for years, but I never had the courage to accept. I am going to now.” She held her hand out to him, and with a new appreciation for his cousin—or whatever she was—he took it.

“Do not worry about that letter mother sent the solicitor. Miss Bingley quietly arranged through her coachman for me to send another directly on the heels of it. Rosings is mine, after all, and mother’s solicitor truly answers to me. I made it clear that if he released any harmful information as she had directed, he would never have an income again.”

Darcy’s face grew into a slow smile. “You are remarkable, Anne. I am sorry I had never seen it. All of these years—how can I make it up to you?”

She shook her head modestly, dropping her gaze with a soft blush. “I should like very much to be introduced to your Miss Elizabeth. She sounds wonderful, William. I hope I will be welcomed at Pemberley to come to know her, and… and my sister.”

Darcy placed his second hand firmly over the first. “Of course, you will always be welcome. Georgiana has often lamented that she never got to know you. I never felt safe having her long in your mother’s company. I suppose now I know why. Anne, will you have the goodness to never reveal to her what we have spoken of here? I do not think she would understand about Father. She does not need to be so confused just now.”

Her eyes widened emphatically. “You must know, I have an interest in keeping these things quiet as well!”

“Well, that’s settled!” The earl slapped his knee in satisfaction. “Let the matter rest forevermore. Anne, Lady Matlock accompanied me. I am certain she would wish to visit with you. She also is desirous of meeting Darcy’s betrothed, but that cold journey took some of the starch out of her. I expect she is just emerging from her bath. Shall we impose on your friend, Darcy, to see if a room can be found for Anne?”

Darcy grinned. “By all means.”

B lissfully unaware of the stewing hurricane raging in his drawing-room, Bingley had retired to the library with Caroline. Not a word had they spoken. Bingley’s newfound confidence seemed to grow him in her eyes, and instead of a younger brother, Caroline was put very much in mind of her father.

Stiffly, but not unkindly, he directed his sister to take a chair while he seated himself behind his desk. Never before had he deliberately placed himself in such a position of authority with her, but he had seen Darcy employ the intimidating manoeuvre countless times. If it worked for Fitzwilliam Darcy, it was not too good for Charles Bingley. The second act of the play was to subject his relative to stony silence, which he engaged in with a flourish. His fingers drummed expectantly on the desk.

Caroline slumped in her chair, not even bothering to put on her airs. Her eyes rested on his fingers. Bingley watched as she drew a shuddering breath. “I was wrong,” she confessed at last.

The fingers stopped abruptly. “Excuse me?”

Caroline squeezed her eyes shut, humiliated at what she had said and then shamed that she was required to repeat it. “I was wrong.” Her tones were hushed.

“How so?” he demanded. He would not be content unless she rendered a full confession and of her own volition.

She set her jaw, her old wilfulness flaming, fading, and at last guttering out. “I ought never to have interfered with Darcy,” she mumbled reluctantly.

Bingley arched a brow.

“ Mr Darcy,” she corrected. She glanced up at him and could see he was not yet satisfied. She heaved a deep breath. Her debasement was nearly complete, and there was no further point in trying to save face. Though she would never know the full measure of Lady Catherine’s depravity, she had witnessed first-hand the wholly unbecoming state to which the woman had sunk in her mindless pursuit of the Darcy name. There was nothing , not even the triumph of seeing him reject Eliza Bennet, which could induce her to follow in that lady’s footsteps.

“I will never impose myself upon any of the Darcy family again.”

Bingley stared.

Caroline blinked, her voice cracking with intimidation. “I will beg Mr Darcy and Miss Darcy’s forgiveness for my vanity.”

Bingley’s lips twitched.

Caroline sighed, exasperated. “And I will apologize to Eliza Bennet! Are you happy, Charles?”

“To whom?”

She set her teeth. “Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”

“And what of my staff?”

She hung her head. “They are under your authority,” she muttered.

“Excellent. I believe just now Mrs Nicholls could use some help in organizing the tenant baskets for next week’s festivities.”

Caroline’s eyes flashed to his uncertainly. “Do you mean…?”

“You cannot shirk your duty, Caroline.” His tone was set in iron, but a slight lift of the ruddy brow over his bright eyes gave her hope.

“Yes, Charles.” She rose directly and betook herself to the kitchens.

Bingley grinned hugely, lacing his fingers behind his head and leaning back in his chair. “Dawson!” he called loudly. The butler appeared promptly. “Please give the staff these directions when interacting with Miss Bingley….”

E lizabeth finally rolled out of bed at half-past ten. She was not being slovenly, she rationalized. After all, she had sat up all night in her father’s room, relieved only at six by Mrs Cooper. After the… well, the rather embarrassing interruption of her “conversation” with Darcy, she had remained in wakeful vigil the rest of the night.

Elizabeth’s cheeks warmed pleasantly. It was a most agreeable memory—if, that is, one left out the part about being caught in a passionate embrace with her betrothed by her snickering father. She could only hope that his head injury would prevent him from remembering that event when he regained full consciousness. Darcy might never recover from his mortification!

Jane entered the room as Elizabeth was finishing her hair, all smiles and sunshine despite the wintery day. Elizabeth slanted a knowing glance over her shoulder. “Expecting Mr Bingley to call this morning?”

“Naturally,” Jane sighed. “Lizzy, I am so relieved that Father is improving! Mrs Cooper said he roused long enough to drink on his own this morning. Did he really speak to you last night? Uncle said he awoke for a moment while Mr Darcy was calling. What did he say?”

Elizabeth coloured and made no answer. Jane’s brow dropped suspiciously, and she stepped closer, peering into the mirror over Elizabeth’s shoulder. “Lizzy?”

“Hmm?” Elizabeth inquired around the hairpins she had just stuffed into her mouth.

“Was Mr Darcy in the room with you?”

“Hummm.”

“Alone?”

“Hmmmmhmmm.”

Jane tilted her head. “What were the two of you talking about?”

“Nfffnnggg.” Elizabeth focused her gaze steadily on her reflection, her hands busily engaged with a stubborn coil.

“Apparently.” Jane narrowed her eyes playfully. “And what was it that Father said?”

Elizabeth removed the last pin from her mouth and blew an errant curl off her forehead. She turned to her sister, her lips twitching. “I believe he made some reference to pigs flying.”

Jane sputtered, her hand flying to her mouth to avoid a noisy shriek of laughter. Elizabeth waved her hands, trying to hush her sister’s amusement. “You will have our aunt in here, and I cannot avoid explaining to her if you are laughing so!”

Jane’s eyes clenched, squeezing out a stray tear as her body shook with laughter. She gasped for breath, at length wiping her face. Elizabeth rolled her eyes, trying not to show the smile that threatened to overturn her very proper embarrassment.

“What did Mr Darcy do?” Jane finally managed.

“Dumped me on the floor.”

Jane choked and doubled over, now thoroughly breathless. She clamped both her hands tightly over her own mouth, but little yelping sounds squeaked through her fingers. Helpless to remain on her feet, she sought the bed and curled up on it, burying her face into the covers to smother her squeals. “Oh, Lizzy!” she gasped finally. “I cannot condone this! It is too shocking!”

“Yes, you look very grave and disapproving,” Elizabeth smirked.

“Oh, but I am! Lizzy, you must marry that man right away before you do something truly scandalous!”

“I will take that under advisement.”

“What did our uncle do about it?”

“What, do you think I told him?” Elizabeth was incredulous. “Poor Mr Darcy almost melted through the floorboards as it was!”

“So, he left right away? I cannot imagine he would have remained longer.”

“Sort of.”

“Lizzy….”

“You do not think me the kind of woman who would not offer some comfort to a man in distress, do you?”

Jane shook her head. “You had better be planning on a short engagement.”