Page 43 of The Mercy of Chance

D arcy had just settled into his preferred corner at Brooks when Viscount Eastbridge dropped into the opposite chair, brandy in hand.

“Intelligence has been circulated regarding unfortunate circumstances at the property leased by your particular friend.

Netherfield, was it not?”

the Viscount said without preamble.

“Nasty business with flooding.”

Darcy set down his paper, studying the young peer’s expression.

Eastbridge seemed more amused than concerned.

“We were favoured with a most singular caller this sennight past,”

he continued.

“Fellow named Collins.

Came to my father with a rather elaborate scheme regarding drainage alterations.”

“Did he indeed?”

Darcy kept his tone neutral, although his interest sharpened.

“Indeed.

The gentleman was most solicitous regarding certain 'improvements' he proposed to undertake for the protection of our interests.

He expressed particular concern for the damage sustained by our northern pasture.”

The Viscount's mouth formed the slightest suggestion of a smile.

“Yet I perceive this was but a pretext for his true purpose.

He displayed uncommon eagerness to discuss potential...

arrangements concerning that which he anticipates will eventually come into his possession.

His interest in his future inheritance was most pronounced, I assure you.”

“What sort of arrangements?”

“It appears his circumstances are somewhat straitened at present.

He intimated that, once Longbourn falls into his possession, he might be disposed to relinquish certain portions of the estate—at terms he described as exceedingly advantageous to the purchaser.”

Eastbridge swirled his brandy.

“I expressed neither acceptance nor refusal, merely… interest.”

“And now?”

“Well,”

the Viscount leant back, “It occurred to me that such negotiations might be of particular interest to you, as the true proprietor of the estate in question.

Especially in light of certain...

irregularities that appear to have manifested themselves of late.”

Darcy considered this.

“Collins does not know of my connection to the estate.”

“No.

Nor that you have documented his involvement in the sabotage.”

Viscount Eastbridge set down his glass.

“He seems quite convinced he can still extricate himself from this unfortunate entanglement— provided he might secure a willing party to enter into such a prospective arrangement.”

“You are willing to… maintain his misconceptions? Hold him in hopeful expectation”

“I might be persuaded,”

the Viscount said slyly.

“Purely to determine the full scope of his intentions, of course.

Although I would need certain assurances about the eventual disposition of any agreements he might be foolish enough to sign.”

Darcy nodded slowly.

Collins’s desperation might prove useful—particularly if he could be manoeuvred into signing away his interests before learning the true identity of his negotiating partner.

“I believe,”

Darcy said, “we might come to an understanding on that point.”

“I thought we might.”

Lord Matthews stood.

“I will have my man contact you with the details of Collins’s proposal.

Although I suggest we act quickly.

One cannot predict the actions of a man pressed to the wall.”

Darcy watched him leave, already composing a letter to his solicitor in his mind.

Collins had provided them with an opportunity—one that might finally secure the Bennets’ position, if handled with care.

And perhaps, he thought, resolve other matters as well.

Grandfather sat at his writing desk, the faint winter sun casting pale light across the neatly arranged papers before him.

A letter bearing Mr Darcy’s seal lay open, its elegant handwriting stark against the creamy paper.

His brow furrowed as he reread the careful words:

“Dear Mr Bennet,

Recent developments concerning the legal actions initiated by Mr Collins necessitate urgent consultation with my solicitor and barrister in London.

It is vital that you, or a suitable representative authorised to act on behalf of your family’s interests, meet with them promptly.

I urge your swift response.

Respectfully, Fitzwilliam Darcy”

A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. “Enter,”

he called, folding the letter with deliberate care.

Elizabeth stepped into the room, Jane and Mrs Bennet following closely behind, their expressions filled with quiet expectation.

Elizabeth glanced toward the letter in her grandfather’s hand.

“Grandfather, is there news from Mr Darcy?”

“Indeed,”

he replied dryly.

“Mr Darcy wishes me to journey to London—or appoint someone to act on our behalf—to confer with his legal advisers about Collins’s nonsense.”

Jane’s gentle voice was tinged with concern.

“Grandfather, pray, he does not expect you to travel, given the state of your health?”

Grandfather’s chuckle was more of a dry rasp.

“I fear my travelling days are well behind me, Jane.

London would be the death of me, or so your mother would insist.”

He sighed, glancing toward the window where winter’s chill crept steadily into the room.

“Nonetheless, it is clear someone must go.”

Elizabeth exchanged a quick glance with her sister before stepping forward.

“Perhaps Uncle Phillips might attend in your stead?”

Mr Bennet shook his head slowly.

“Your uncle’s presence will certainly be necessary; however, the solicitors and barristers in London require someone vested with direct responsibility for the estate and empowered to make binding decisions.”

Mrs Bennet shook her head.

“Please do not choose me, Mr Bennet, I could never manage such matters!”

“Calm yourself, my dear Fanny,”

he said gently, gesturing for her to sit.

“You shall not be required to leave Longbourn.”

Mrs Bennet exhaled in relief, sinking into a chair near the fire.

“Then who, Mr Bennet? Who could speak for us in London?”

Grandfather met Elizabeth’s steady gaze, then looked toward Jane, noting the quiet strength and composure both young women possessed.

“Elizabeth.

Jane.

It must be the two of you.”

Elizabeth nodded; her expression resolute.

“We shall go, Grandfather.

You may rely upon us.”

Jane reached for her sister’s hand, offering quiet support.

“Indeed, Grandfather.

Together we shall represent your interests and ensure Longbourn’s protection.”

Their grandfather regarded them with a blend of pride and melancholy.

“I know you shall.

Very well then,”

he said, holding out Darcy’s letter to Elizabeth.

“Inform Mr Darcy that he may expect you.

You compose a pretty letter, and I shall sign it.”

Elizabeth accepted the letter with steady fingers, determination lighting her eyes.

“We shall depart for London as soon as arrangements can be made.”

As his granddaughters left the room, Mr Bennet leant back in his chair, eyes closing briefly against the weariness that threatened.

“Well Fanny, the burden of Longbourn’s future, has now passed into the hands of the capable young women we raised.”

Despite the uncertainty ahead, this thought brought him no small measure of peace.

The solicitor’s chambers in Lincoln’s Inn Fields were austere, all dark wood and leather-bound volumes.

Elizabeth smoothed her best muslin dress, conscious of its dated trim, whilst Jane sat perfectly composed beside her.

Their Uncle Phillips shifted uncomfortably in his chair, out of his element in the opulent London office.

Mr Darcy, however, looked quite at home.

He had risen immediately when they entered, ensuring Elizabeth and Jane had the chairs nearest the fire.

Now he stood by the window, his bearing effortless among the trappings of wealth and power that seemed designed to intimidate country clients.

“Miss Elizabeth,”

he said, voice lowering as he approached her chair, “Have you brought the estate records I mentioned?”

“Yes.”

She withdrew the figures from her reticule.

“Although I fear my calculations may need review by more experienced heads.”

“Nonsense,”

he said with quiet firmness.

“Your management of these matters has been exemplary.”

Something in his expression made her pause—a warmth she had not expected.

When he accepted the papers, his manner suggested respect for her work rather than mere politeness.

He drew a chair near.

“Pray explain your findings to me.”

This was familiar ground—drainage patterns and soil composition, yield calculations, and labour costs.

Darcy listened intently to her explanations, his questions showing genuine interest in her expertise.

“Extraordinary,”

he murmured, clearly impressed.

“Only the application of careful attention, Mr Darcy.”

“No.”

His eyes met hers briefly, and Elizabeth saw in his expression respect—and something more complex—in his gaze.

“It is far more than that.”

The arrival of the senior solicitor interrupted whatever he might have said next.

Elizabeth was both relieved and oddly disappointed as Darcy resumed his more formal manner.

But she did not miss how he positioned himself between her chair and the intimidating desk, as if to shield her, nor how his presence made the whole proceeding less daunting.

The solicitor, Mr Graves, settled behind his imposing desk.

Darcy noted how Elizabeth straightened in her chair, all business now despite the intimidating surroundings.

“The sabotage has been fully documented,”

Mr Graves began, shuffling through his papers.

“Mr Darcy, you have brought the surveys?”

“Here.”

Darcy presented the detailed drawings.

“Along with sworn statements from Mr Bingley, his steward, and the local nurserymen regarding the extent of the damage.”

Elizabeth leant forward to examine the documents.

“The western section is worse than we initially thought.”

“Indeed.”

Darcy appreciated her quick grasp of the technical details.

“The foundation damage to the garden wall was discovered only yesterday.”

Mr Phillips nodded.

“And you believe these documents would be sufficient to force Mr Collins to make restitution?”

“More than sufficient,”

Mr Graves said.

“Should the court find in our favour and given his own legal claims of waste and mismanagement.

He has, in essence, invited the court’s scrutiny of these very matters.”

“Although restitution would prove difficult,”

Elizabeth observed quietly, “given his limited means.”

“Which brings us to the matter of alternative arrangements,”

Mr Graves said.

Darcy watched Elizabeth’s expression intently as Mr Graves outlined their strategy.

Her quick mind would immediately grasp the implications of Collins’s attempts to sell his future interests.

“A rather elegant solution,”

she said finally.

“I am sensible of some surprise that Lord Matthews would involve himself in such negotiations.”

Darcy kept his expression neutral.

That was dangerous ground.

“His Lordship has his reasons,”

he said carefully.

“The legal documents are being drawn up now.

We require your family’s agreement to proceed.”

“The entail presents a significant obstacle,”

Mr Graves interjected.

“Mr Collins, as heir presumptive to the Longbourn Estate, has no present interest he might legally convey.

His attempts to sell what he does not yet possess could be viewed most seriously by the court.”

“Indeed,”

Mr Phillips agreed.

“The entail gives him only the expectation of inheritance, not a present right to dispose of any portion.”

“Precisely.

By entering into secret agreements regarding the future disposition of entailed lands, Mr Collins places his position as heir in some jeopardy.

The courts take a rather dim view of such speculative arrangements.”

“Then these agreements he proposed with Lord Matthews…”

Elizabeth asked.

“Would demonstrate Mr Collins’s unfitness to succeed to the estate, particularly when viewed alongside his actions in soliciting the sabotage.

One cannot simultaneously claim concern for proper estate management whilst secretly arranging to damage and dispose of portions of that same estate.”

“Assuming,”

Phillips said slowly, “the court accepts the connection between the sabotage and Collins’s attempts to gain control of the estate.”

“These written arrangements with Lord Matthews,”

Mr Graves continued, “not just proposals but signed agreements to dispose of specific portions of Longbourn - they demonstrate a troubling disregard for both law and property.

He tacitly acknowledges that the cost of repairs at Dunbar Court and at Netherfield will be his to bear.”

“The court’s view would be especially harsh,”

Phillips added, warming to the legal discussion, “given that Mr Collins has already repeatedly brought the matter of estate management before the court through his accusations against Mr Bennet.”

“Precisely.”

Mr Graves selected another document from his desk.

“By his own petition, he has claimed deep concern for Longbourn’s preservation.

Yet these papers show him quite willing to divide and sell portions of that same estate - and to a party who, he believes, has a legitimate claim for damages due to the flooding he caused.”

Elizabeth’s expression sharpened with understanding.

Collins had not only violated legal principles - but he had also revealed the fundamental dishonesty of his position.

“So, by attempting to sell what he does not possess,”

Elizabeth said, “Mr Collins demonstrates that his petition regarding Grandfather’s management was never truly about protecting Longbourn.”

“The court,”

Mr Graves confirmed, “would likely take a most severe view of such duplicity.

Particularly when presented with the evidence of his direct involvement in damaging neighbouring estates.”

“And what remedy would you suggest?”

Phillips asked.

“That,”

Mr Graves said, with a slight smile, “depends on how much pressure we wish to apply.

The law provides several interesting possibilities when an heir presumptive acts against the estate’s interests.”

Elizabeth’s hand tightened on her papers.

The next decisions would not be easy ones, but they could give her family protection against Collins’s machinations.

He only wished he could offer more direct comfort in this moment.

Mr Graves turned to Elizabeth.

“Should we not consult Mr Bennet before proceeding? These arrangements will affect Longbourn’s future disposition considerably.”

A faint colour touched Elizabeth’s cheeks, but her voice was steady.

“Grandfather spoke with Jane and me.

He has… he has entrusted to us the solemn responsibility of determining our family’s course in this grave matter.”

Darcy caught the flash of deeper meaning in her words.

Mr Bennet was far more ill than they had allowed to be known.

His chest tightened at the implications - both for the urgency of their legal arrangements and for Elizabeth herself.

“The timing of his legal actions is damning,”

Mr Graves continued.

“He files a petition claiming grave concern over Longbourn’s management yet simultaneously approaches Lord Matthews about schemes to damage Netherfield’s productivity.

Then, when faced with the potential consequences, he attempts to dispose, in secret, of portions of an estate he does not yet possess.”

He spread three documents across his desk.

“Here we have his petition regarding Mr Bennet’s management, dated the third of November.

Here, evidence of his involvement in the drainage alterations beginning the following month.

And here…”

He tapped the third document significantly, “Lord Matthews’s written account of Collins’s approach regarding the sale of future interests, dated but yesterday.”

“A clear pattern of deception,”

Phillips observed.

“More than deception,”

Mr Graves said.

“The law takes a particularly severe view of an heir who attempts to profit from damaging neighbouring estates.

That he would compound this offence by attempting to sell portions of his expectancy…” He shook his head.

“The courts are most particular about maintaining the integrity of entailed estates.”

“Might the court consider removing him as heir presumptive?”

Phillips asked.

Elizabeth’s posture lifted with hope at this suggestion.

Such an outcome might offer the best protection for her family.

“That would be… extreme,”

Mr Graves said slowly.

“Although not without precedent when an heir has demonstrated active hostility to the estate’s interests.

The sabotage alone might not be sufficient, but combined with these attempts to dispose of his future interest…” He pulled another volume from his shelf.

“There was a case in ‘89 where an heir’s actions against neighbouring properties led to an heir’s removal.”

“But such proceedings could be lengthy,”

Darcy interjected, thinking of Grandfather Bennet’s failing health.

“There might be a more expedient solution,”

Mr Graves suggested.

“One that uses Mr Collins’s own actions to secure a more favourable arrangement.”

Mr Collins,”

Mr Graves explained, “has already demonstrated his willingness to negotiate regarding his future interests.

Rather than expose his improper attempts, we might instead… redirect them.”

“Through Lord Matthews?”

Phillips asked.

“And Mr Bingley,”

Mr Graves added.

“Both have legitimate claims for damages.

Both could offer Mr Collins a way to avoid public exposure of his actions, in exchange for certain binding legal agreements regarding his future management of Longbourn.”

“What sort of agreements?”

Elizabeth asked.

Mr Graves selected another document.

“A trustee arrangement.

Mr Collins would retain his position as heir but agree to place the oversight of specific portions of Longbourn under the direction of a board of trustees - to include Mr Bingley and Lord Matthews’s representative, as neighbouring landowners with vested interests in cooperative drainage management.”

Comprehension dawned in Elizabeth’s eyes.

The arrangement would effectively prevent Collins from interfering with the estate’s current management whilst preserving the appearance of his rights.

“And Mr Collins would agree to this?”

Mr Phillips sounded sceptical.

“When presented with the alternative - public exposure of his actions, lengthy legal proceedings, and possible restitution and removal as heir - I believe Mr Collins could find the trustee arrangement quite appealing.”

Mr Graves smiled thinly.

“Particularly if Lord Matthews implies he might still be amenable to future business arrangements, once the legal difficulties are resolved.”

“A fiction, of course,”

Mr Phillips said slowly.

“Of course.”

Mr Graves gathered his papers.

“But one that might serve all parties’ interests.

Mr Collins retains his position, if not authority.

The estate’s management remains secure.

And the neighbours’ interests are protected.”

“No, no,”

Mr Phillips interjected.

“A trustee arrangement fails to address the imminent concern.

With Mr Bennet’s health…” He glanced apologetically at Elizabeth.

“Indeed.”

Mr Graves set aside the documents and thought silently for a moment.

Elizabeth’s fingers worried her reticule.

“You are quite right.

What we require is not management of the entail, but its dissolution.”

Mr Graves said.

Elizabeth released a long breath.

Darcy straightened.

This was more extreme than their previous discussions had contemplated—and more welcome.

“Can it be done?”

Elizabeth asked directly.

“The entail might be broken,”

Mr Graves said cautiously, “if we can demonstrate both Mr Collins’s active hostility to the estate’s interests and his attempt to circumvent the very purpose of the entailment through these secret sales.

Combined with his sabotage of neighbouring properties…” He retrieved a different legal volume from his shelf.

“The court’s primary concern in upholding entails is preserving estates intact for future generations.

If we can show that Mr Collins’s actions threaten this purpose…”

Mr Graves then set aside the weighty legal volumes, his expression solemn.

“Whilst the evidence we have assembled presents a compelling narrative of Mr Collins’s duplicity and intentions, we must remain mindful that the decisions of the court are never entirely predictable.

Though precedent strongly favours our cause, and the equities as well, we nevertheless remain at the mercy of chance.”

Elizabeth felt a chill run through her, despite the warmth of the fire.

“Do you mean to suggest, sir, that our case might yet fail?”

“Not fail precisely,”

Mr Graves replied gently, “but we must acknowledge the inherent uncertainties of any legal proceeding.

The courts, even upon reviewing identical facts, may weigh matters differently.

It is my duty to prepare you for every eventuality.”

Jane spoke softly, her voice steady despite the gravity of the situation.

“What preparations, then, would you advise us to undertake, Mr Graves?”

Exchanging a brief glance with Mr Darcy, Mr Graves continued.

“Should the court find merit in any part of Mr Collins’s allegations—however unjustified—they may order a detailed inventory and valuation of Longbourn’s assets.

It would thus be prudent for your family to compile all deeds, bills of purchase, and pertinent records that establish ownership of your belongings and movable property.

Such diligence may forestall distressing confusion later.”

“Our uncle has already initiated such preparations,”

Elizabeth said, her tone resolute yet weary.

“Though I had dearly hoped they would prove unnecessary.”

“Let us hope so indeed,”

Mr Graves said kindly.

“Yet prudence demands readiness.

You must create an exhaustive and detailed list, paying particular attention to items whose ownership might reasonably be contested, or those we can document were brought by Mrs Bennet to her marriage.”

Elizabeth inclined her head in acknowledgement.

“We shall proceed accordingly.”

“And the forthcoming trial itself?”

Mr Phillips interjected; his anxiety evident.

“How ought we to best prepare ourselves?”

Mr Graves’s voice was firm and reassuring.

“I will guide you thoroughly in all matters—preparing testimony, presenting documentation, and anticipating the questions likely to arise.

It is imperative that witnesses remain composed and present their evidence clearly and without undue emotion, regardless of provocation.”

Darcy stepped forward, his presence reassuring.

“You may depend upon my continued support in all respects, Miss Elizabeth.

Whatever support you and your family require is yours.”

Elizabeth met his steady gaze and felt her resolve strengthen.

“Your generous assistance is deeply appreciated, Mr Darcy.”

“Very well,”

Mr Graves concluded, rising to signal the meeting’s end.

“We have considerable work ahead.

Whilst I remain optimistic, let me caution you once more: court proceedings invariably carry an element of uncertainty.

We must do all within our power to prevail, yet ultimately, we remain subject to the mercy of chance.”

Outside the solicitor’s chambers, Elizabeth drew a deep breath, steadying her composure in the crisp London air.

Turning to her uncle, she could not completely conceal the turmoil she felt.

“Uncle,”

she said quietly, “is it truly to come to this? Is our entire future—the future of our home, indeed our very lives—to be decided by the judgement of one man clad in a red robe and wig, whom we have never met?”

Mr Phillips smiled gently, placing a comforting hand upon her arm.

“My dear Lizzy, the gentleman beneath that wig is no ordinary man, but one solemnly sworn to uphold the law.

He is bound by oath to weigh thoroughly the facts before him and to render his decision strictly according to established precedent.”

Elizabeth sighed, still unconvinced.

“Yet even the wisest of judges must err at times.

What safeguard have we against such a misfortune?”

Mr Phillips regarded her seriously.

“Should the judge’s determination seem inconsistent with justice or centuries of legal precedent, there remains the possibility of an appeal.

That right alone is no small matter, Lizzy.

It is the safeguard of all who seek redress under the law.

Our legal system—however imperfect—is founded on the principle that every person, regardless of station, is entitled to a fair hearing.

Since the Magna Carta, and more firmly still with the Bill of Rights, the law has stood as a barrier against tyranny and caprice.

We are not wholly at the mercy of any single ruling, for our institutions provide for correction and redress. Our government is based on the rule of law, not the whims of man.”

Elizabeth nodded slowly; her eyes thoughtful as she considered her uncle’s words.

“Then we must trust, it seems, in the integrity of the law and the honour of those appointed to uphold it.”

“Precisely, my dear,”

Mr Phillips replied gently.

“Take heart.

Our case is sound, and we have both justice and precedent on our side.”