|
CHAPTER 6
Matlock Manor,
Derbyshire - March 1815
"…and
then Aunt Catherine ordered me out of the house." Colonel
Fitzwilliam took a large swig of his father's port and looked
around the study. "Well, you couldn't expect me to remain
after that performance, could you? I packed up my belongings,
gathered the documents, there," he pointed to the opened
packet on the desk, "and left for my lodgings in London.
The rest you know." Richard looked at each of the other
men in the room, searching their faces for any sense of censure.
His cousin, Fitzwilliam Darcy, was his usual expressionless self,
keeping his opinions hidden behind his oft-used mask of indifference.
His brother, Viscount Andrew Fitzwilliam, stared intently into
his own glass of port. And his father, Lord Matlock, looked deeply
disturbed. "Well? What would you have me do? Father? Darcy
- come man, support me!"
"You did no
wrong, Richard," Darcy replied.
"Could you
have done better?" Darcy hesitated. "You see - you
do think I failed…"
"Richard, that
is quite enough," Lord Matlock's voice boomed across the
room. He was disappointed in Richard's childish display - after
all these years he should have known that Darcy would always
believe that he would do better in everything. "You did
the best you could, son. 'Tis not your fault, but Catherine's.
I do wish you hadn't left Anne there, though."
Richard blushed,
which was not lost on his brother. "Richard, is there something
you haven't told us?" asked Lord Andrew.
"No! It would
have been improper had she come away with me. I could not jeopardize
Anne's reputation…"
"Balderdash!
A woman riding to her family's townhouse with her cousin and
companion? Don't be ridiculous! You're leaving something out…You're
sweet on our fair cousin, aren't you?"
Richard did not
answer. "Richard," demanded his father "is this
true?"
"We are not
engaged. I have not compromised her…I have made no promises…"
"Richard, we
are family. Out with it! Do you wish to marry the girl?"
"Yes, sir."
Andrew snorted.
"You'll be a poor man if you do. Auntie Cathy will cut her
off without a cent."
"No she won't,"
declared Lord Matlock.
"Andrew, father
- that is neither here nor there. Anne and I are not engaged.
Whether or not we do become so in the future is not relevant
now. We are talking about Rosings. If we do not save the place
there will be no fortune to cut Anne off from."
Darcy turned from
his usual place near the mantle. "Richard is correct, uncle.
Rosings is the reason we are all called here today. We must discuss
Richard's actions. Uncle, do you have any concerns over Richard's
orders to the steward?"
The old man picked
up one of the papers on the desk and closely studied it. Richard
was suddenly struck by how ancient his father now appeared. For
the first time in his life, Richard contemplated a world without
Hugh Fitzwilliam, 2nd Earl of Matlock. The concept frightened
him. "Richard, these figures are accurate? The harvest was
this bad?"
"Yes sir."
"And all of
the tenants are paid up in full?"
"Some were
late; but yes, all are paid up now."
Lord Matlock handed
the paper to Darcy, who scanned it for a moment. "Good God,"
Darcy muttered, who then gave the form to Lord Andrew. "I
believe Richard was correct to order the rent holiday."
"I only wonder
why it wasn't two years." Richard turned to his brother
in surprise. "What? Do you think I cannot add numbers in
my head?" said an irritated Andrew at the colonel's wonderment.
Andrew has changed, thought Richard. Viscount Andrew
Fitzwilliam was the eldest son of an Earl, and for most of his
life acted so. Assured at an early age that he would inherit
a title and a grand estate, Andrew went though life demanding
respect he had yet to earn. When younger he showed little concern
for those beneath him and little deference for those above. The
Fitzwilliams were taught to be self-reliant; Andrew reacted badly
to his lessons, believing his opinions were all that mattered.
His self-confidence in his judgment and abilities became over-confidence.
Now Richard beheld his brother with new respect - since taking
over the day-to-day management of Matlock, Lord Andrew had shown
not only greater responsibility but decency as well. Perhaps
the Viscountess had been a good influence after all.
"Father,"
asked Richard, "do you approve?"
"Yes; you did
the right thing. I am sorry you had to endure your aunt's wrath;
you did not deserve such treatment, I assure you."
"Will it be
enough, do you think?"
"Son, you did
all that could be expected. Darcy?"
"I agree. The
holiday, along with a good harvest, will put the farmers back
on their feet."
"It is not
like the old girl will be too pinched." Andrew was studying
the personal financial documents. "She has certainly put
enough aside."
"Son, what
you have done may well be the saving of Rosings."
"Yes sir,"
answered Richard. "Assuming Aunt Catherine does not undo
everything I've done."
"She can't,"
declared his lordship and Darcy in unison.
"Why not? I've
been meaning to ask you. Why are Mrs. Parks and the steward employed
by you, Father? Why can't she countermand my instructions? It's
her land."
"We have been
given authority…" began Darcy.
"Hold, Darcy,"
interrupted the earl. "It is more than that. I am afraid
that you and Richard have not been told the whole story. It is
my fault - I apologize." The others in the room were taken
aback at this admission - the earl never apologized for anything.
"In short, Lady Catherine cannot countermand any instruction
you give as my representative, Richard - she has not the authority."
"But Rosings
belongs to her," cried Lord Andrew.
"No. Lady Catherine
does not own Rosings."
Astonishment filled
the study. "What?" cried Richard. "Why…then
who does?"
"Strictly…Anne
does."
"Sir Lewis
left Rosings to Anne?" sputtered the colonel.
"In a manner
of speaking…" Lord Matlock sighed. "Fill your
glasses, gentlemen. 'Tis a long tale, and better over good port."
After the glasses
were filled and cigars lit, the earl continued. "Forgive
me, gentlemen; but I must start at the beginning. My father,
the first earl, was a man ahead of his time when it came to the
education of his children. I, of course, received all that was
expected of a gentleman and more. But my father also saw to my
sisters. The best tutors and instructors were found - nothing
was lacking. Father was particular that his daughters master
mathematics, as well as languages and the arts." He turned
to Darcy. "Your mother, Anne, was an excellent student.
George Darcy often told me that he had married more than a wife;
he married the best helpmate and advisor he had ever had. I don't
think he ever recovered from losing her." Darcy bowed his
head in acknowledgement.
"Catherine,
on the other hand, was a poor student. Nothing wrong with her
head, you understand. Sometimes we all thought of Cathy as -
potentially - the most gifted of all of us. But she never seemed
to apply herself; she always seemed distracted, agitated. Oh,
how father and mother labored to get Cathy to mind, but nothing
worked. The only study that seemed to hold her attention was
that of current society and manners. She was a severe disappointment
to my father.
"When it came
time for my sisters to marry, Father was happy to unite my sister
Anne with George Darcy. He knew that they would get along very
well. With Cathy, Father was more cautious. He arranged for her
introduction to Sir Lewis de Bourgh, a man he considered to be
of good sense. Cathy saw Rosings and a title, and she was satisfied.
Sir Lewis was a man who saw to everything himself, and therefore
was content with a good looking bride - Catherine was considered
quite the beauty in her day; though she was nothing to my sister
Anne. Rosings was well-run, so it had no need of a good mistress.
"But Sir Lewis
was no fool. He and Father had long discussions, and many things
were considered. I was party to the marriage negotiations, and
after the marriage George Darcy became an advisor, as well. In
the wedding agreement, and afterward in his will, Sir Lewis made
sure that Catherine could do little to damage his family estate.
Rosings would, of course, go to the eldest son upon Sir Lewis's
death. Where Sir Lewis was clever was in the circumstance of
his heir being a daughter. Sir Lewis wanted Rosings to go to
his offspring and not be entailed to some distant male relative.
He also did not trust his wife to be a good manager of his estates;
he knew she did not have the necessary ability to govern or be
advised. So what he set up, in case of his demise, was a system
called usufruct - Lady Catherine would get the income
of Rosings, but the ownership would be held in trust until his
male heir reached the age of majority or, in case no son survived
him, until his eldest surviving daughter married. When either
of those conditions was met, Lady Catherine would receive the
right of dowager, including the dowager house. He also named
George Darcy and me, and our heirs, as trustees.
"When Sir Lewis
died unexpectedly, George Darcy and I acted quickly. We made
sure the solicitors understood the peculiar aspects to Sir Lewis'
will and gained complete control of the ground, farms and household,
as trustees for Anne. The housekeeper at that time was considered
too close to Lady Catherine and the old steward was ready to
retire, so old Darcy and I placed our own people there. We allowed
Cathy to have power over the rest of the household staff, as
a peace offering.
"To say the
least, Catherine was displeased by our actions; our gesture was
as of nothing. Oh, how she railed! She tried everything to overturn
her husband's wishes and our efforts. She even had Mrs. Parks'
and the new steward's contacts burned. Eventually she gave way,
especially after we threatened to force Catherine into the dowager
house immediately, as a cost-cutting move.
"For many years
thereafter, George Darcy and I were responsible for the supervision
of the management of Rosings. When your good father died, Darcy,
you were placed in his stead."
Darcy looked hard
at the earl. "I thought that such an honor was given me
in expectation of my marriage to Anne. You should have told me,
uncle."
"Aye, nephew,
I should have. I offer no excuse. I suppose I was afraid of stirring
things up again with your aunt."
Richard grunted
to himself. You are being dishonest, Father. We both know
Darcy; he would never have tolerated Aunt Catherine's behavior
had he known of his true power over her. War between her and
the family would have been ignited long ago; the enviable has
only been delayed.
"Father,"
asked Lord Andrew. "What would happen if Anne never married?"
"The usufruct
would remain in effect until Lady Catherine's death. It would
be up to the trustees whither to transfer control to Anne or
continue to act on her behalf."
"Ha!"
"What do you
mean by that, Andrew?"
"Don't you
see? This is the genesis of Aunt Catherine's plan to marry
Anne to Darcy! Darcy," he said to his cousin, "there
never was an agreement between my aunts for you to marry our
cousin, was there?"
"No,"
answered Darcy. "My mother wanted me to follow my heart."
And I have.
"But had you
found Anne agreeable…" (At this Richard flinched) "…would
you have quitted Pemberley?"
"Never!"
"Ah, the perfect
solution to her problem. With Anne married to you and removed
to Pemberley, Auntie Cathy would remain Mistress of Rosings rather
than occupant of the dowager house. The income would probably
continue to flow to her, for Rosings' expenses. You always were
soft-hearted, Darcy. It was never about blood; only money!"
The others men were
in a stunned silence. The answer was so obvious they all questioned
their wits. Lady Catherine was more than capable of coming up
with such a scheme.
Lord Andrew was
in his element now. "That's why she never turned to you
to take Darcy's place, Richard. You would have taken over Rosings
in a heartbeat. No - either the old lady finds some other well-landed
suitor for Anne or our cousin never marries!"
A blade twisted
in Richard's stomach.
"I disagree,
Andrew," said Darcy. "Anne is of legal age - she can
marry without permission."
Richard was not
as certain as his cousin. No, he thought, Anne would
never marry without her mother's consent. And now I am Aunt Catherine's
enemy, if Andrew's conjectures are correct. What can I do?
Richard fought to conceal his growing despair.
"Well,"
Lord Matlock rumbled as he puffed his cigar, "I believe
that Catherine will storm for a bit, but no harm will come of
it. The important thing is that Rosings Park is safe."
Andrew turned to
Richard. "What is next for you, brother, now that Bonaparte
is loose?"
"The regiment
is on alert, watching events in France."
At that moment the
butler entered. "Begging your pardon, you lordship, but
there is an express rider at the door."
"Ah, yes,"
the earl got to his feet. "I've been expecting something
from my banker in Town. Please excuse me…" Lord Matlock
followed the butler out the room.
"Well, I expect
we'll be next hearing of that damned Corsican's head on a pike.
The Frogs can't be stupid enough to want him back!" Lord
Andrew declared.
Darcy turned from
the mantle. "I must disagree with you again, Andrew. King
Louis' government is very unpopular. There may well be civil
war."
"Well, there
is something new - you disagreeing with me, Darcy! All's right
in the world as long as Fitzwilliam Darcy finds fault with Andrew
Fitzwilliam! Tell me, is there anyone you totally agree with
except for that wife of yours?" At Darcy's frown Andrew
continued, "Oh, don't take offense, old man! You know we
like Elizabeth very well. She's too good for the likes of you,
you sourpuss - how you ended up with her I will never understand…"
All conversation
ended with Lord Matlock's reentrance, a grim look on his face.
Without a word he handed a letter to Richard. Richard immediately
noted that it was an official letter from the War Office addressed
to Colonel Fitzwilliam. With a murmured apology, he opened the
letter and read in silence.
Finally Lord Andrew
could bear no more. "Richard! What is the news?"
Richard looked up
slowly. "I am recalled to London. King Louis has fled the
country. Bonaparte has entered Paris and declared himself again
Emperor of the French Republic. It is war."
Delaford Manor,
Dorsetshire
Richard Fitzwilliam
was not the only one receiving express letters.
"Do not worry,
my love," Christopher Brandon was telling his wife as his
valet packed his trunk. "I shall only be gone for a little
while; less than a fortnight, I shouldn't wonder."
"But Christopher,
you are requested so urgently!" Marianne observed. "Why
would they want you? You have been…inactive for so very
long."
Because Wellington
wants me, he replied
to himself. We are not ready - we have too many troops on
the other side of the Atlantic because of that insane war with
the Americans. "Perhaps they need a new staff officer
in London during the crisis. If so, you and Joy may join me at
Brandon House. All done there, my man? Marianne, my love, I must
leave…"
Tearfully his wife
embraced him. "Christopher, I am so worried…"
"Never fear,
my dear. Nothing will keep me from returning to you…"
Newcastle
Captain George Wickham
entered his commanding general's office along with the other
officers. "Gentlemen," the general began without any
other preamble, "it seems our old enemy is back. Yet another
Coalition is being formed to contain Bonaparte. All training
regimens are hereby doubled. We leave for Belgium in a month."
Wickham looked about
stupidly. "Begging your pardon, sir - did you say we were
leaving?"
"Yes. Any questions,
Captain?"
Wickham could not
restrain himself. "Why, sir?"
The general gave
the assembled a crooked grin. "It seems we're invited to
the party this time. The War Office has ordered this regiment
to join Wellington on the Continent."
A stunned murmur
arose from the attending officers. Wickham did not join in -
he was too shocked. Finally, thoughts began to form in his head:
War? I am going to war? I did not join the Army to fight a
war! I thought this was a safe regiment… He suddenly
remembered that he did not "join" voluntarily and he
did not choose his regiment - someone else did. Damn that
Darcy!
|
