Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
THURSDAY 17 OCTOBER 1811
I t was quite late the following morning when the couple emerged from their rooms, looking well satisfied and happy. Georgiana thought this was a result of them finally catching up on their sleep after many days on the road, but Fitzwilliam knew better. He said nothing in the presence of the ladies, but Darcy knew his cousin would have much to say when they were alone.
Regardless, Darcy and Elizabeth were prepared to answer whatever questions the two had for them, as they also had several of their own. Darcy had learned from his valet that Fitzwilliam received a letter from his father the previous night and was anxious to learn what it said. The letter had been forwarded by Fitzwilliam’s batman, who had been finishing his business in Newcastle while Fitzwilliam chased after his cousin.
After answering all of Georgiana’s questions about how Elizabeth and Darcy had been reunited and what had led to their sudden decision to elope, Georgiana’s curiosity was finally satisfied, at least for the moment. In truth, she had more questions than they had answers for, but Elizabeth and Darcy did their best to provide what details they could. Recognising that the men would likely need to speak privately, Elizabeth suggested that Georgiana take her to speak with the housekeeper so she could begin learning more about the management of the household. With a wink and a smile at her husband, Elizabeth left, a knowing expression on her face.
Before they left their rooms that morning, Darcy had commented to his wife how much he dreaded his cousin’s jests at his expense, and Elizabeth had only teased him about the matter. “It is yet another way that women are far superior to men. We would never jest about such a topic, nor do we seek to embarrass each other as men seem to wish to do.”
Darcy shook his head at his wife with a grimace before turning to his cousin. He suggested they retire to his study, where Fitzwilliam hinted that a drink might be necessary for the conversation ahead. Once they were seated with glasses of brandy in hand, Darcy spoke: "Before you start your teasing, Richard, what did the letter from your father say? What does he know—or think he knows?"
“He knows nothing more than he knew when he wrote to me in Newcastle. I intend to write back to tell him I did not find you in Gretna Green. It is the truth, I encountered you in Coldstream. In fact, I would have departed before you arrived, had I not noticed your coachman exiting the kirk,” Fitzwilliam replied. “After I saw him, I decided to have a drink at the inn while waiting for you to arrive. You have the statements from the minister carefully locked away, do you not?”
“I had the minister write and signed three copies. One for my safe here at Pemberley, one for my solicitor, and another to store at Darcy House. However, now I am uncertain if my solicitor’s office is as safe as I originally thought,” Darcy paused, seeming to consider where else he might store the document. “Elizabeth and I spoke of remaining in Derbyshire long enough to establish her residence here, and then having the banns called so we might marry again in the Church of England. If we marry here, then it makes it harder for any to contest the validity of our marriage, though that is the reason we married in the Church of Scotland. I would think there is nothing your parents or our Aunt Catherine can do to separate us, short of resorting to criminal acts.”
“Are you entirely certain Aunt Catherine would not?” Fitzwilliam asked, his voice uncharacteristically serious. Darcy blinked, caught off guard by his cousin's tone.
“Do you truly believe our aunt would resort to something as extreme as kidnapping, or even worse?” Darcy questioned, his brow furrowing as he studied Fitzwilliam’s expression, searching for any hint of jest.
Fitzwilliam met his gaze evenly, his silence only heightening Darcy’s unease. “You do,” Darcy stated. “Do you know some men who I could hire as footmen to guard Elizabeth? She likes to walk out, though I will have to warn her to never leave the manor unaccompanied.”
“Darcy, I hate to tell you this, but I have suspicions that our Aunt Catherine might have been behind Wickham’s attempt to abscond with Georgiana at Ramsgate. It is possible we will discover the truth of this when that lady arrives here in the next few days,” Fitzwilliam replied.
Once again, Darcy turned to look at his cousin, narrowing his eyes at him to confirm the veracity of his words. “What have you not told me?”
Fitzwilliam let out a slow breath. “When I was in Newcastle, I crossed paths with George Wickham, of all people. Knowing what he had done to Georgie, I thought to… have a chat with our old friend.” He paused, his brows furrowing as he recalled the encounter. “However, before I could confront him, he turned, smirking as if he had been expecting me. I demanded to know what he thought he was doing, attempting to ruin Georgiana’s life in such a way, but he simply laughed. ‘It was not entirely my idea, old chap,’ he said, ‘though I will admit, I saw the benefit in the arrangement.’”
Darcy's eyes darkened. “What benefit could that scoundrel possibly see in such a vile scheme? Other than the obvious.”
Fitzwilliam shook his head. “That was my question as well. I pressed him further, but he remained evasive. The only thing I could gather was that someone else was involved—someone with influence. It was only after more probing that he let slip a cryptic remark about ‘powerful friends’ who had a vested interest in keeping you from forming certain alliances. He did not name names, but the implication was clear.”
Darcy stiffened, his breath shallow as the realisation hit him. “Aunt Catherine.”
Fitzwilliam nodded grimly. “I cannot say for certain, but Wickham’s words—and the timing of his actions—suggest she might have had a hand in it. Aunt Catherine has never been subtle in her disapproval of anything that might interfere with her plans for you and Anne. She must have thought that the scandal of Georgiana marrying the son of Pemberley’s steward would convince you to marry her daughter. Of course, I am not certain how she intended to convince Anne to comply, but she may have believed she had a way to blackmail you both.”
Darcy clenched his fists, fury rising within him. “If this is true, if she orchestrated such a scheme to harm my sister, I will never forgive her. If I find she had any role in separating me from Elizabeth, or if she plans to harm my wife…” Darcy stopped, unable to continue further. The mere idea of his aunt acting to keep him and Elizabeth apart for the last four years, or worse, of someone hurting her now was anathema to him.
A steady hand rested on Darcy’s shoulder as his cousin sought to calm him. “We cannot be certain just yet,” Fitzwilliam said evenly. “However, we must remain cautious when she arrives. I do not trust her motives, especially now that you and Elizabeth have eloped.”
Darcy nodded, his mind racing. “We will be ready. Whatever her intentions, she will not succeed in tearing us apart. But how is it you know she is coming?”
“If my father has not already written to her about your marriage, I feel certain she will learn of it soon enough. Are you absolutely certain of the loyalty of all of your servants? What about your tenants?” Fitzwilliam asked, surprising his cousin further with his implication.
“Before the incident with Mrs. Younge, I would have been absolutely certain of their loyalty. As you well know, the turnover at both Pemberley and Darcy House has always been low, and we have very few new servants. Most have been with the family for over a decade, if not longer. The servants and tenants are all well cared for, and lack for nothing,” Darcy replied.
“How many knew George Wickham? Are there any nearby who would have any reason to keep in touch with him? Is it possible he could have informed Lady Catherine of your engagement four years ago?”
Darcy pondered this for a moment. “Wickham did visit shortly before Elizabeth left that summer. The rector in Kympton had recently passed, and he came seeking the living. I refused, of course. He had already been compensated for it, and I could not imagine a man less suited to serve as a pastor than George Wickham. I took care to ensure he did not see either Elizabeth or Georgiana at the time, but it is possible there was talk in the village. Our courtship was hardly a secret.”
Fitzwilliam nodded, mulling it over. “So, Wickham could have sold news of your courtship to Aunt Catherine which might have contributed to your separation all those years ago. But why would she wait until now to target Georgiana?”
He paused, then continued, answering his own question. “Georgiana had only just turned fifteen—old enough to elope but not to marry legally without permission in most places. Before that, no church in England or Scotland would have sanctioned the marriage. Aunt Catherine would have waited until it was possible for Wickham to elope with her and ensure the union was binding.”
Darcy's expression grew grim. “If Aunt Catherine had a hand in this, her scheming is more insidious than I imagined. Her willingness to manipulate others to impose her will is nearly Machiavellian. What you are suggesting is not just malicious—it borders on madness.”
A soft knock on the door surprised both men. Darcy called for the person to enter, and was surprised when his new wife opened the door. “Fitzwilliam, is everything well?” she asked.
“More or less, my dear,” he replied. “But come in, because I believe there are some things that you will need to know. Where is Georgiana?”
“She is in the music room. Should I get her for you?” Elizabeth asked, her voice hesitant and uncertain.
“No, I believe it is best that we speak first. Afterward, you might help me decide what should be shared with her,” Darcy said, guiding Elizabeth to a seat beside him. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders in a gesture of comfort, disregarding any concern for propriety. “Richard, will you begin?”
Over the next half hour, Fitzwilliam shared with Elizabeth everything they knew for certain, along with several matters they could only speculate about. Elizabeth listened to the whole of the story without comment, though it was obvious that much of what they said affected her, in some cases causing her to blanch.
After listening intently to the conversation, Elizabeth sat quietly for a moment, her brow furrowed in contemplation. When she finally spoke, her voice was composed yet tinged with emotion. “I have always found it strange that my father was able to expand his bookroom shortly after my return from Derbyshire. He told Mama and the rest of us that he had made a good return on some investments. Yet, I suspect he never intended to share any of that money with her. She raised such a fuss, demanding that part of it be used to outfit us girls—and herself—with new clothes. She insisted on funds for redecorating a few rooms. Reluctantly, my father conceded, even allowing her to make minor improvements to the dower cottage which were largely long-overdue repairs.”
Elizabeth’s gaze drifted away as she recalled the details. “I always questioned it because I had been helping him with the estate books, and he had never once mentioned these supposed investments. Now, I cannot help but wonder if that money came from your aunt, if she indeed played a part in our separation.”
Feeling her distress, Darcy tightened his embrace, pulling her closer as if to shield her from the weight of her thoughts. Elizabeth whispered against his chest, her voice barely audible, “I cannot forgive him. If he truly accepted money, regardless of the sum, in exchange for my happiness, I cannot forgive him.”
Fitzwilliam, observing the couple wrapped in each other’s arms, recognised they needed a few moments alone to process the revelations. He discreetly nodded at Darcy before closing the door behind him. As the soft click of the door echoed in the room, Darcy tightened his hold on Elizabeth, wishing he could shield her from the painful truths that had been revealed that morning.