Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
THURSDAY, 28 NOVEMBER 1811
W hen the Matlocks arrived at Darcy House at the prescribed time, they were greeted coolly. The introductions were quickly made and the entire party in residence at Darcy House, minus Georgiana, sat down for tea. A few minutes after tea was served, Fitzwilliam joined them.
Lord Matlock was surprised to find his second son in residence at Darcy House. “Richard, I did not know you had returned from Hertfordshire. Why did you not let me know?” he asked.
“I arrived a day or two ago on some business with Darcy and decided to stay to have tea with you all before I return. Mrs. Darcy, I also had news of your family which I have yet to impart,” he began. “Did you know that your cousin Collins, who is to inherit Longbourn upon your father’s death, is our aunt’s rector?”
Elizabeth pretended to be surprised at hearing this news. The Darcys and Fitzwilliam had agreed to share the information in front of the earl to judge his reaction to see what he might reveal. “The same Mr. Collins who is currently in residence at Longbourn and refuses to leave?”
“Yes, and he is the one to whom your father engaged you after you accepted Darcy’s proposal of marriage,” Fitzwilliam replied.
“After?” Elizabeth repeated in genuine shock, having not heard this part of the story before.
“Yes, after,” Fitzwilliam said. “Your father might be rather tight-lipped about the arrangements, but that fool is less so. The marriage contract was not signed until several months after you returned from Derbyshire and likely not until after Darcy came to request your hand.”
“Did Collins know why the engagement was approved?” Darcy asked.
“The elder Mr. Collins orchestrated the arrangement,” Fitzwilliam continued, voice measured. “He aimed to mend a longstanding rift, offering Bennet a way to ensure his widow and daughters would not be left destitute. I suspect Bennet found this quite convenient; it allowed him to continue in his indolence, knowing someone else would assume responsibility once he was gone.”
He paused, studying his father with an intensity that bordered on scrutiny. “And, of course, the ‘incentive’ Bennet received for refusing my cousin’s proposal no doubt influenced his decision as well.”
Lord Matlock’s expression was carefully schooled, his face devoid of reaction. Yet Fitzwilliam noted the faint twitch in his father’s cheek—a minute betrayal of anger. His father’s silence was telling; the flash of irritation in his eyes was enough to confirm what he had suspected.
A shocked silence filled the room before Lady Julia broke it, eyes wide with disbelief. “A bribe?” she gasped. “What on earth are you saying? Why would anyone offer some country gentleman money to refuse a proposal from your family?” She looked from her son to her nephew, incredulous. “What kind of fool would accept it? It would take an extraordinary sum to persuade anyone in their right mind to turn down Darcy’s hand in marriage.”
She shook her head in dismay, glancing at her husband with an expression of both frustration and bewilderment. “Forgive me for sounding mercenary, but I cannot fathom any sum worth alienating a Darcy. Short of a royal command, I cannot imagine anything that would have convinced me to refuse you, had I a daughter of my own.”
"Six thousand pounds upfront, with a promise of another six later," Fitzwilliam replied grimly. "That was the price of his loyalty. He will never see the rest, for Elizabeth married Darcy, not the man he had chosen for her."
“Not that he would have ever received the second payment,” Elizabeth added, her voice steady. “I would have refused the match regardless, even if it meant leaving my home and family. I kept back a small portion of my allowance each quarter, hoping to make my way to my aunt and uncle in London if it became necessary. Although my father forbade any contact with them, I held to the hope they would take me in, at least for a short while.” She turned to Darcy, her expression softening. “In fact, as soon as I reached my majority, I had intended to make my way to London to ask them to help me journey to Derbyshire—to find you at least once more. Even through all those years of silence, I never doubted there was a reason for our separation. I prayed you had not married another and that one day we would meet again.”
Darcy ignored everyone else in the room, wrapping an arm firmly around his wife’s waist and drawing her close. “I love you,” he murmured softly, his voice meant only for her ears. “I know I told you this before, but I came to Hertfordshire for you and you alone. I could not stay away; I had to see you one more time and prayed for the chance.” Gently, he lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a lingering kiss there, unwilling to reveal more in company.
The quiet intimacy of the moment did not go unnoticed by those around them, and all except Lord Matlock averted their gaze, allowing the couple their moment. “Enough of this romantic tripe, Darcy,” Matlock scoffed, his tone dismissive. “You have married the girl; there is no need to play the lovesick fool. Now, let us return to the matter at hand.”
Darcy pulled his eyes from his wife and narrowed them at his uncle. “It is not ‘tripe,’ Uncle, to demonstrate love for my wife. That is why I married her, after all.”
Lord Matlock’s expression was stern as he addressed his nephew. “Nevertheless, your hasty marriage is already the talk of the ton , especially after your wife’s encounter with Lady Blackwell. Her refusal to remain in town and formally introduce herself to society gives the impression that there is something amiss in your marriage. You must stay in London until the spring, attending balls and social events so your wife might establish the necessary connections. My wife will sponsor her, ensuring the proper introductions are made.”
Lady Julia, who had been sitting quietly beside her husband, gave a faint, disapproving glance at her husband. Her lips tightened, but she said nothing aloud.
Darcy held up a hand to forestall further argument. “We have no intention of remaining in town, Uncle. I came only to handle business matters requiring my personal attention. Most of that business is now settled; we will depart as scheduled on Thursday.”
Turning to his cousin, Darcy’s tone softened. “Anne, would you still like me to pay my annual visit to review your accounts? I have done so because my father did before me, but now that you are the recognised mistress of Rosings, you might no longer need my assistance. I know you are fully capable.”
Anne hesitated, then gave a small nod. “I am not certain I am as capable as you believe, Darcy. I would appreciate your oversight, and in fact, I would be glad if you would come to Rosings before returning to Pemberley. But I understand if you wish to spend Christmas with your new wife in your own home, just as I intend to do.”
Elizabeth reached her hand out to her new cousin and grasped it. “We will be delighted to visit you in the spring, Anne. I have heard that Kent is beautiful and am certain Rosings will not disappoint.”
Anne smiled at Elizabeth, but once again, their moment was disrupted by Lord Matlock abruptly standing. His voice, now colder, cut through the air. “Enough of this sentimental nonsense. Darcy, you will stay in London and attend the social season, whether you like it or not. You cannot hide away with your wife, no matter how you wish it. It is your duty to establish connections and strengthen your position in society.” He stood tall, his gaze intense, as if daring anyone to contradict him.
Lady Julia’s eyes flickered towards her husband, but she remained silent, clearly displeased but unwilling to voice her objections in front of the others. Knowing Darcy’s character, she understood that he would not allow his uncle to dictate to him, and doing so would only raise further resistance. Her husband’s forceful nature would only push Darcy further into his resolve.
With a tight smile, Darcy met his uncle’s gaze. “Forgive me if I disagree, sir. My wife and I are well aware of the expectations set by society, but we will not be dictated to, even by our family. I believe you will understand that we are both more inclined to enjoy a quieter life. While I appreciate your concern for our reputations, we would rather enjoy some peace as we settle into our marriage. As I have already made clear, Uncle, our plans are our own. We are hardly required to present ourselves in London at the whim of the ton .”
Undeterred, Lord Matlock fixed a stern gaze on his nephew. “If you think society will turn a blind eye to this—let alone forget your hasty marriage, your choice of bride, or Anne’s unconventional match—you are gravely mistaken. Your reputation, Darcy, and that of your family, is not something to be trifled with.”
Darcy exchanged a quick glance with Fitzwilliam, who leant against the mantle, arms crossed, his expression a mixture of scepticism and concern. They both understood the implications behind Lord Matlock’s insistence, but neither dared voice their apprehensions in front of the ladies.
“Society is fickle, Uncle,” Darcy countered, his voice steady yet laced with an undercurrent of defiance. “What good is a name if it is built on false pretences? We have no intention of being paraded like commodities for the ton to inspect. My marriage to Elizabeth is not a mere social engagement; it is a partnership founded on mutual respect. We have decided to return to our home to spend the winter there, for Elizabeth desires to settle in and become the mistress of Pemberley before she attempts to take on her social duties. Not that we intend to follow society’s dictates since neither she nor I see any reason to.”
Elizabeth, raising her chin slightly, spoke with quiet strength to support her husband. “I am aware, Lord Matlock, that society has certain expectations, but I would much rather my husband and I fulfil our own than those of people who know little of us. Surely, we have not transgressed so deeply by simply choosing to be where we feel most at ease for a time after our marriage?”
Lady Julia, who had remained silent until then, gave her husband a pointed look before speaking. “While I understand your desire to assert independence, Darcy,” she began, her tone cool but measured, “I cannot entirely agree. Society’s approval is not easily dismissed. It is true that a name built on false pretences has little value, but neither does a name without any value at all. Your marriage is not simply a personal matter; it affects the reputation of our family and, in turn, the well-being of our estates. It would be unwise to ignore that.”
Lord Matlock’s expression softened although his intent was still clear. “Perhaps you fail to appreciate what is at stake,” he pressed, his voice dropping to a more measured, coaxing tone. “I only seek to guide you in securing the full respect and status the Darcy name deserves. That influence could extend far beyond merely yourselves—benefitting your families, even your estates.”
Fitzwilliam cleared his throat, cutting through the heavy tension that filled the room. “With all due respect, Father, it seems you are suggesting that our family’s future depends entirely on the whims of high society. Many who hold the status you seek are near bankruptcy, and it is not as if our family is without its own share of faults. We are well aware of Lady Catherine’s machinations, and how she kept Anne locked away at Rosings for years.”
Lady Julia’s gaze briefly shifted to her son, a flicker of understanding passing between them before she turned back to Darcy. “Your point is valid, Richard,” she said softly. “But there must be a balance. Society, for all its flaws, is a force we must navigate—especially when our position depends on it.”
Darcy nodded slightly, acknowledging her words, but remained firm. “I appreciate your counsel, Aunt, but we have made our decision. We will not allow the expectations of others to dictate our lives.”
Fitzwilliam leant forward, his gaze unwavering as he spoke. “Darcy is wise to take his wife away from town, if for no other reason than to protect her from your sister and others like her. The social scene is fraught with dangers, and those who pretend to be allies can quickly turn into enemies.”
Lord Matlock’s expression darkened at his son’s words, but Fitzwilliam pressed on, undeterred. “You speak of alliances, but what of the ones we already have? We have people who genuinely care for us not simply for our fortunes. You have spent too long in the machinations of the ton, equating social standing with security. But it is the connections forged in loyalty and trust that will truly safeguard our interests.”
“Loyalty and trust? What use are those when the world is governed by appearances?” Lord Matlock shot back, his voice rising with irritation. “You act as though you are young and idealistic, Richard, not a seasoned colonel in His Majesty's Army. The reality is that society does not reward integrity; it rewards power and influence. The more visible you are, the more you can control the narrative surrounding your family. You cannot afford to be out of sight, lest you be forgotten and left vulnerable.”
Darcy, standing silently beside Fitzwilliam, felt a knot tighten in his stomach. His uncle’s words echoed with a sense of urgency, a warning that they needed to tread carefully. It was all too clear that Lord Matlock was manoeuvring for something, and Darcy was not about to let his family be pawns in a game they did not fully understand.
“Father, I do not deny the importance of appearances,” Fitzwilliam replied, his voice steady, “but we cannot afford to lose sight of who we are in pursuit of acceptance. If we allow ourselves to be swept into the shallow waters of society, we risk drowning in the very tide we seek to navigate.”
“Enough of this,” Lord Matlock snapped, frustration evident on his face. “Your idealism is misguided. You both need to recognize the weight of your names and what it can bring. I will not see this family squandered on principles that offer little more than self-righteousness.”
As the heated exchange simmered, Darcy caught his cousin’s eye, and they shared a moment of understanding—an unspoken agreement to be cautious, to guard against the earl’s veiled ambitions. The room felt charged with an impending storm, and they knew they would have to remain vigilant.
“Perhaps it is time we consider the practicality of our situation,” Darcy said finally, his voice firm but calm. “We will take your counsel under advisement, Uncle, but our immediate priority is to ensure the safety of the ladies. The last thing we need is to expose them to the predatory instincts of the ton .”
Fitzwilliam nodded in agreement, and the tension in the room shifted slightly as Lord Matlock’s expression hardened. The earl’s ambitions were laid bare, yet he was not willing to concede defeat. It was clear that the battle lines were drawn, and they would have to navigate this perilous landscape with caution and cunning to protect their futures from the machinations of the earl.
The earl scowled at this. “Perhaps we ought to continue this conversation in private, away from the ladies,” he stated, his voice curt. “Let us go to your study, Darcy. We can discuss matters over a glass of port. Mr. Hargrove, you should join us as well.”
Darcy frowned but reluctantly agreed, leading the gentlemen out of the room and into his private study. The air felt heavier as they entered, and the sense of tension that had filled the drawing room followed them in. After pouring them all a glass, Darcy took a seat, his gaze fixed on his uncle.