Chapter 45
Chapter Forty-Five
THURSDAY, 16 JANUARY 1812
G eorgiana and the Bennet ladies remained at Pemberley while Richard, Darcy, and Elizabeth travelled to Matlock. Despite the absence of any direct threat to Pemberley or the Darcy family, they stationed footmen at all the manor house entrances. The footmen who had been employed for the protection of Georgiana and Elizabeth in London were still at Pemberley and would accompany the ladies any time they left the house. Though Georgiana was related, she had rarely been in company with her oldest cousin, and Darcy and Fitzwilliam both judged it best that she remain far from Matlock.
Though Fitzwilliam might have preferred to ride, out of consideration for Elizabeth, they travelled in Darcy’s coach. Fitzwilliam’s horse was ridden ahead by a groom to Matlock, as he had not yet decided what to do after the funeral. Much would depend on the meeting with Lord Matlock, and some of his plans would be shaped by that conversation.
Lady Julia was due to arrive at her husband’s home sometime that morning, with Lord Matlock likely to arrive the following day. That gave Fitzwilliam and Darcy time to speak with her, informing her of all they had learned, and to make some decisions about what to do next.Since the three had first spoken of their plans in Darcy’s study, there had been several additional conversations as the plan evolved.
One remaining difficulty was the uncertainty of whether there were funds to pay off Lord Matlock’s debt, though a letter had been sent to Rosings via the messenger who delivered Anne’s to see what could be discovered. If Lady Catherine had indeed hidden funds without her brother’s knowledge, the questions remained: where might they be and could they be used to settle the debt? Darcy and Fitzwilliam had already debated this matter extensively, driving each other mad with their endless speculation. Though both men were deeply reluctant to touch the money—tainted as it was by its origins—they could not ignore the possibility that it might be sufficient to save Matlock from financial ruin.
Of course, there was the matter of the debt itself. Was it truly money owed to the investors or merely money they sought to recoup a loss? Only Lord Matlock held the answers to these questions, but given his nature, obtaining clear and honest responses seemed highly unlikely.
A few servants greeted them at Matlock’s entrance and guided them to their rooms. Lady Julia, having arrived only a short while earlier, was resting but had requested their company for tea in an hour.
Fitzwilliam shared that he had always been fond of his grandfather, despite the man’s reputation for bluster and hot-headedness. He recounted how the elder gentleman had grudgingly approved of his daughter’s marriage to Silas Fitzwilliam, then Viscount Ashburn, though he had never held a favourable opinion of the man. Learning of Lord Matlock’s involvement in such disgraceful dealings was certain to push his grandfather beyond the bounds of tolerance. Fitzwilliam warned them that his reaction to the news could be explosive.
All too soon, everyone gathered behind closed doors in the family sitting room, where the tea service had already been set out. Lady Julia greeted her son as he entered. “Richard, I am glad to see you again so soon although I wish it were under different circumstances. From the letter you sent about Andrew’s death, I gather this conversation will not be a pleasant one. Am I correct in assuming his vices finally caught up with him?”
Her voice wavered slightly, and her red-rimmed, puffy eyes betrayed her grief. Her hair was styled neatly in a simple chignon, a far cry from the fashionably groomed appearance she always displayed in London. She turned to greet her other guests. “Darcy, Elizabeth, welcome to Matlock. Again, I wish the circumstances could have been better, but I am pleased to welcome you here. Allow me to introduce you to my father, Edmund Hawthorne, the Marquess of Greystone,” she said, finishing the introductions. Darcy had met the gentleman once or twice in London, but had rarely had much contact with him.
Once everyone was seated, with a cup of tea or something stronger in hand, Lord Hawthorne broke the silence. “Enough of this equivocation. Richard, tell us what has happened to Andrew and anything else we need to know. You and Darcy have exchanged far too many glances for me not to suspect my daughter’s husband has done something I am not going to care for.”
Fitzwilliam grimaced at his grandfather, drawing in a deep breath. “You are not going to like what I have to say. Not at all.”
He then began to recount everything he had learned over the past weeks and months, concluding with his brother’s confession and Anne’s letter, both of which confirmed the marquess’s worst fears. The revelation of Lord Matlock’s involvement in such an immoral scheme left them both stunned. To learn that the entire family was now at risk of scandal and that the viscount had been killed in what appeared to be retribution was almost more than they could bear.
When Fitzwilliam finished speaking, a heavy silence fell over the room. The tension was palpable as Lord Hawthorne absorbed the revelations, his face growing darker with every passing moment. Then, without warning, he erupted.
“How dare he!” Lord Hawthorne thundered, slamming his hand against the arm of his chair. “That wretched scoundrel dared to disgrace this family—and my daughter—with his reckless, conniving schemes!” His voice rose with each word, his fury evident as the vein in his temple pulsed visibly.
Lady Julia flinched but remained composed, clutching her teacup tightly. “Father, please,” she said softly, her voice trembling. “This is not the time for anger. We must focus on what can be done now. I feel certain Richard and Darcy would not have asked to speak of these things unless they had some idea of what could be done to set things right.”
“Set things right?” he bellowed, turning his glare on her. “How, Julia? How can we possibly set this right when Matlock has dragged his entire family into the mud? Andrew—my grandson—killed because of his father’s greed? If this becomes known in society, then your whole family is ruined, and perhaps even the Darcy name and mine as well. Your husband has, in essence, committed treason against the Crown. Not only could they imprison him, but they could imprison you as well. They could seize the estate and every asset belonging to Matlock, possibly even your dowry.”
With a calm voice, Darcy interjected, “My Lord, anger will not undo what has been done. We must focus on mitigating the damage and protecting the family’s name. If there are resources hidden as Anne suggested, we must locate them and determine how best to proceed.”
Lord Hawthorne’s sharp gaze shifted to Darcy. “You think that will solve this? Even if the funds exist, they will not erase the scandal or Andrew’s death!”
Fitzwilliam stepped in, his tone measured. “Grandfather, no solution will undo the harm he has caused, but we cannot allow it to grow worse. If we do nothing, the creditors will come for us, and the family’s name will be irreparably tarnished. Anne’s letter is our best lead. We must act on it.”
For a moment, Lord Hawthorne said nothing, his expression torn between anger and resignation. Finally, he exhaled sharply, the fire in his eyes dimming slightly. “Very well. Show me the letter. If there is a chance to salvage this mess, we shall take it. But mark my words, Richard—if Matlock were here now, I would see to it that he paid for his betrayal in full.”
Fitzwilliam nodded grimly, exchanging a glance with Darcy. After a moment, Darcy spoke, carefully outlining the plan he had initially dreamt up but that had been augmented by his cousin and wife.
“We must first determine the legitimacy of the debt—whether it is truly owed to creditors or business partners—and, if it is real, pay it off to avoid further scandal. Once that is settled, Matlock must disappear.” He paused, glancing at Lord Hawthorne to gauge his reaction before continuing.
“If I recall correctly, he has a hunting lodge in Scotland. I own a sheep farm not far from Glencoe, and there are certainly other remote locations where he could be sent. We believe that, together with the two of you, we can persuade him that vanishing is in his best interests. With him out of the picture, Richard could take on the responsibilities of the viscount and make Matlock solvent again.”
Darcy’s expression darkened slightly as he added, “Perhaps, after a few years, we can allow word to spread that the earl has passed away. At that time, Richard would formally inherit the earldom.”
He hesitated briefly before concluding, “As for the funds Lady Catherine might have hidden away, we must say nothing of them to the earl. Our strategy depends on his continuing belief that he is in danger and reliant on us for protection.”
Lord Hawthorne’s lips pressed into a thin line, his brow furrowed in thought. “A bold plan,” he admitted, his tone begrudging. “But if it ensures the survival of this family and its honour, I will consider it. However, this is not a decision to take lightly. You had best be certain Matlock will comply.”
Fitzwilliam leant forward, his voice steady. “We believe he will. His survival—and what little dignity he has left—depends on it. But we will need your support, Grandfather. Father is far more likely to listen to you than he is to Darcy or me. You know he still fears you, not to mention you have the political power to see that it is done. Mother, you will need to spread the rumour that he is ill and has gone away for his health. Of course, you will be in mourning for some time, and that will further add to the veracity of your story.”
Lord Hawthorne exhaled sharply, the weight of the situation bearing down on him. “Then let us see to it that this is done properly. No loose ends, no room for error.”
Darcy and Fitzwilliam exchanged a glance at that comment, their relief evident in their expressions at having secured the agreement of the room. Darcy, feeling the tension ease slightly, leant back in his seat and instinctively reached for his wife’s hand. His fingers brushed lightly against hers before entwining, his thumb tracing gentle patterns on her skin.
The quiet intimacy did not go unnoticed. Fitzwilliam grinned openly, his amusement evident, while Lady Julia tilted her head, a soft curiosity flickering in her gaze. Lord Hawthorne, seated across from them, arched his brows nearly to his hairline at the unguarded display of affection.
“You and your wife have been married only a short while, I believe?” Lord Hawthorne remarked suddenly, his tone a mixture of curiosity and mild disbelief.
Startled, both Darcy and Elizabeth turned towards him, as if only now remembering they were not alone. Elizabeth’s cheeks coloured slightly, but she answered with poise, her voice steady. “We were married in October, my lord.”
“An elopement, was it not?” Lord Hawthorne pressed, his sharp gaze fixed on her.
Elizabeth straightened, her chin lifting almost imperceptibly. “Indeed, it was,” she replied, meeting his eyes without hesitation.
Darcy, still holding her hand, added calmly, “Circumstances dictated the necessity, my lord. It was not a decision made lightly. We had already been separated for many years due to the intervention of others and refused to allow them to keep us apart any longer.”
Lord Hawthorne’s eyes narrowed slightly, his expression inscrutable as he regarded them both. “Hmm,” he murmured, his tone neither approving nor condemning. “Did my son-in-law have anything to do with that?”
“Not as far as we are aware. It was Lady Catherine although Elizabeth’s father allowed himself to be manipulated into keeping us apart,” Darcy explained.
The marquess harrumphed. “I suppose there is little to be done about the matter now. You seem… unusually comfortable for newlyweds of your situation and after being kept apart for so long. It is a love match, then?”
Fitzwilliam chuckled softly. “Grandfather, leave them be. If their marriage is strong enough to endure the separation and now this mess, I daresay they are better off than most.”
Darcy shot his cousin a grateful look, while Elizabeth offered a faint smile. Lord Hawthorne simply grunted in response, his focus shifting back to the matters at hand.
“When do you plan to broach this subject with Matlock?” Lord Hawthorne asked after a moment. “I recommend addressing it directly after the funeral. Though he is only my son by marriage, I will ensure his safety and care until this threat is resolved. You might add my cottage on the Isle of Man to the list of possible locations for his… exile.”
His words hung in the air for a moment before Darcy nodded. “Thank you, my lord. Your support is invaluable in this matter.”
For the next hour, the five of them deliberated alternatives, considering every possible location and scenario for Lord Matlock’s disappearance. Discussions ranged from practical logistics to potential contingencies, with each member offering their perspective.
By the time their discussion ended, a tentative plan had begun to take shape. There was still some uncertainty—chiefly over how Lord Matlock would react when he was told what would happen. One point, however, was beyond doubt: he would have no say in the matter of his disappearance. His only input would be in selecting the location of his exile.