Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
“ T hat foolish woman,” Lord Matlock muttered, resuming his pacing in front of the fireplace. The shadows from the flames danced across his face, highlighting the lines of worry etched into his brow. “What is the last I heard about Wickham? We told him to disappear, but do we know where he went?” He continued his mutterings, his voice rising and falling as he wrestled with the implications of his sister's reckless actions.
As he paced, his hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, betraying his mounting frustration. The fire crackled ominously, echoing the turmoil in his mind. After several moments lost in thought, he looked up to find his son standing in the doorway. Fitzwilliam was dressed in full military regalia, his uniform crisp and polished.
“Richard, how are you, my son?” Lord Matlock greeted him, forcing a smile.
Fitzwilliam stepped further into the room, his expression carefully guarded as he eyed his father. He had heard enough of Lord Matlock's muttering to wonder just how deeply involved his father was in all that had transpired with the Darcy family.
Crossing his arms, standing tall and resolute, he replied in a measured tone. "I have just returned from Newcastle. As I told you, Darcy did not go to Gretna Green, and there is no record of his marriage in that town." It was not a lie, but Fitzwilliam did not mention that he had not actually gone to that particular town and that Darcy was well and truly married.
"Do you think he went elsewhere in Scotland then?" Lord Matlock pressed.
"It is possible," Fitzwilliam replied. "I assume you saw the announcement in the paper."
His father only nodded, so Fitzwilliam continued. "My general showed it to me nearly as soon as I arrived, wondering if I had seen it. It appeared in an issue last week, I believe. Do you know anything about his bride?" This last was said with a questioning tone, wondering exactly what his father might reveal through his comments.
"She is a nobody, and as I understand it, brings no dowry into the marriage," Lord Matlock said.
"Really? The amount of her dowry was not included in the announcement. How did you learn of it?" Fitzwilliam asked.
"From Catherine. She was here," Lord Matlock began, his voice still showing his frustration with his sister. "She must have seen the announcement and set off immediately to Pemberley. Of course, she returned with her tail between her legs, having failed to bend Darcy to her will. I sent her back to Rosings, warning her to keep her opinions on the marriage to herself."
He stopped pacing before continuing with a sigh. "You know how stubborn she is, still clinging to the ridiculous notion that Darcy would eventually marry Anne, despite all of us telling her it would never happen. She mentioned something about her rector being related to the girl's family—the man was apparently engaged to the same girl Darcy has married. Catherine had no idea of the connection until the minute she heard of the marriage, and I think that discovery has stoked her fury even more."
Lord Matlock shook his head in disbelief. "She is angrier than usual, and that is saying something, for my sister has never been pleasant when riled."
Fitzwilliam's eyebrows shot up at the revelation. "I did not know of the connection either," he said thoughtfully. "Does Lady Catherine have a new rector? Did Anne appoint him, or was it my aunt's doing? For, technically, Father, you know that Lady Catherine has no standing to make any decisions regarding Rosings. The estate is Anne's by right and has been for a few years, even if she has been unwilling to exert her claim."
Lord Matlock grimaced, his hands tightening behind his back as he resumed pacing. "Your aunt has clung to her authority far longer than is appropriate or necessary. Anne is either too timid or too ill to fight her, and Catherine exploits that. This new rector—Collins, I believe—is likely another sycophant, handpicked by Catherine to do her bidding. She might not have the legal authority, but she certainly acts as if she does."
"Anne is not nearly as ill as her mother believes—or claims—her to be," Fitzwilliam replied, his brow furrowed. "She has simply lacked the opportunity to exert her will. You know that even if Anne wished to take control, her mother would have found a way to silence her. However…” He paused, as if lost in thought.
"However, what?" Lord Matlock demanded sharply. "Do you know something I do not?"
Fitzwilliam hesitated, then shook his head. "Forgive me, Father, it was just an idle thought. Nothing of consequence. But at some point, Lady Catherine will have to bow to Anne's rightful authority as mistress of Rosings. Anne will not let her mother reign over her forever. When the time comes, I only wish I could be there to witness the confrontation."
Lord Matlock snorted. "It will be a battle, no doubt. Catherine will not relinquish control easily."
"Does she intend to remain in London?" Fitzwilliam asked, changing the subject slightly. "Do you know if she's opened her townhouse, or did she come straight here?"
"I do not know," the earl replied, rubbing his temples in frustration. "But, Richard, I suggest you steer clear of any family confrontations at Rosings. No one will win in that fight. Your aunt will ensure everyone is miserable unless she gets exactly what she wants. I suspect she will stop at nothing to keep her hold over Anne—no matter the cost.”
Fitzwilliam sighed, knowing his father was right. He thought about leaving, but his father called him back. "Richard, I wanted to ask you what you found when you travelled to Scotland. However, if he has announced the marriage, I suppose there is truly nothing that can be done about it now. He is well and truly married, however little good that will do."
Turning to look at his father appraisingly, Fitzwilliam asked. "What would be done about it? If Darcy was convinced to elope, it is no doubt for a very good reason. If I am not mistaken, Elizabeth Bennet is the woman he has wished to marry since he first met her four years ago. He was terribly upset when her father denied his request for her hand, claiming a prior engagement. However, there was a crisis at Pemberley not long after he returned from Hertfordshire and he was forced to go deal with it."
Fitzwilliam remained silent for several minutes, his brow furrowed as he sifted through memories. He began to wonder if the "crisis" could have been more orchestrated than genuine. In the months following that event, Darcy had been run ragged, dealing with a series of issues that seemed to follow one after another at both Pemberley and Rosings. Fitzwilliam recalled that for nearly a year, Darcy had been constantly on the move, travelling between the two estates, barely having a moment to catch his breath as he managed one problem after another.
Shaking his head to clear it of these thoughts, he returned his attention to his father. "Darcy is well and truly married now, Father, and he would not have married in such a way for any reason other than love. There is nothing that anyone could have said to dissuade him once he made his choice. If you have any concerns about his marriage, I suggest you keep them to yourself if you want to continue to have a relationship with him."
Lord Matlock nodded thoughtfully but said little else. Soon, Fitzwilliam took leave of his father and returned to his barracks. There, he wrote a letter to his cousin about the interview with his father.
Army Barracks, London
Saturday, 26 October, 1811
Darcy,
My father knows more than he is saying. While he might act as though he supports the match, at least at present, I am uncertain that he does not have an ulterior motive for doing so. Be wary of him, Darcy. Lady Catherine will be more overt in her attacks, but my father, well, I am not sure what he might have planned.
I have visited your solicitor’s office as you requested. What I found was a clerk who is all too willing to speak of private matters. I mentioned your name in passing, and he spoke very openly of your wedding and the settlement you had drafted. It seems the knowledge that your bride came with no dowry has reached the ton quickly. Of course, I know that is not the case, for your investments with her uncle have paid off tenfold. I should thank you for introducing me to him and for helping me with the funds to get started.
After speaking with my general, I will be able to journey to Hertfordshire in a few days. It seems there is a militia unit scheduled to arrive in a nearby village, and I requested to be assigned to assist them for a few weeks while they settle in. I will visit the Bennet family soon after I arrive and will make inquiries about who might have bribed your father-in-law to forbid the match.
Fitzwilliam added a few final lines to the letter before sealing it with wax and handing it to a private to send with the next post. As soon as the soldier left, he returned to his desk, deep in thought. Pulling out a fresh sheet of paper, he began to meticulously write out everything he could remember from his conversation with his father. He included the details of what he overheard before Lord Matlock noticed his presence
His hand hesitated as he considered the weight of his father’s muttered words. The situation was more complex than he first thought, and he found himself questioning what had triggered it. On the off chance he would learn something, he quickly drafted another letter, this one addressed to an investigator he knew—a former soldier injured in battle who now made a living in London uncovering information for a fee. In the letter, Fitzwilliam asked him to quietly gather details about the finances of both Rosings and Matlock. As an afterthought, he added a request for information about Ashburn, his brother’s estate. Though he had not seen his brother in some time, he was all too aware of his reputation.
Unlike Darcy, who shunned such vices, Fitzwilliam was no stranger to gambling dens and brothels although he was careful not to overindulge. His brother, however, showed no such restraint. As heir-in-waiting, Ashburn had embraced the life of the idle rich, squandering money and status with reckless abandon. Fitzwilliam could not help but wonder if his brother’s excesses had contributed to the precarious state of the family’s affairs.