Chapter 5
“Thank goodness the old man is gone. Now you can finally take your rightful place.”
John Fitzwilliam couldn’t believe such words escaped his wife’s mouth the moment he had returned from his father’s funeral. He knew she was selfish and ambitious, but he hadn’t realized exactly how heartless she had become.
“My rightful place?” he asked. “And what exactly is that?”
She looked at him as if he was an idiotic child. “Your place as the Earl of Matlock,” she said slowly, emphasizing his new title in such a way that he felt she was hammering a nail into his head.
He didn’t want to be the earl. He had never wanted that. While he wouldn’t mind the extra income, the price he would have to pay for it was that he would have to attend parliament and suffer through even more social engagements than he already did, many of which would revolve around politics.
John wasn’t exactly opposed to being sociable, but he didn’t like the way everyone around him always seemed to hide their true natures.
It was expected, of course. Society operates more effectively if people behave in a way that does not offend those around them, so people keep their emotions, both joy and anger, locked behind gentle smiles and mild sneers.
At least, they did so in public. Natalie no longer did so when she was alone with him.
She had removed her mask mere months after he had married her, and John had been horrified to find that the person beneath the excellent manners and pleasant demeanor was, in truth, harsh and unyielding in her judgment of others.
No one Natalie had ever met lived up to her expectations. Not her parents, her friends, her husband, or even herself. She expected perfection, and when she did not find it, her criticism and vitriol spilled forth.
John was used to such behavior, and he put up with it as well as he could. He simply assumed that all her criticisms hid a perfectionist nature, that she was always displeased with everyone, because she was constantly striving for perfection herself.
Her comment just now, however, hinted at a different motivation, one that was far less tolerable. Perhaps, she wasn’t always striving for perfection but simply striving for more: more money, more power, more friends, more status.
If that were the case, she truly was the opposite of John. He had always strived for less: less restriction, less responsibility, less pressure, less notoriety.
All of this went through his mind in a mere second. As he and his wife stared at each other, he eventually said, “I am glad you are happy.”
He turned around and walked straight out the front door, which he had come through only moments ago. He did not have the capacity to deal with his wife at this moment.
John walked around the neighborhood in almost random directions. As he walked, he sifted through his memories of his father, who he had just laid to rest in the churchyard.
Edward Fitzwilliam, Earl of Matlock. That was how John had known him for the last seven years, ever since his grandfather had died.
Before that, he was simply Father, a stern but kind man who did his best to be what everyone expected him to be.
John knew his father often felt inadequate to his lot in life, but no one outside the immediate family would ever have guessed.
It was something John had inherited, just as he had inherited his curly, sandy hair, his startlingly blue eyes, and his craggy facial features. John had always felt that he wasn’t meant to have power, that he wasn’t formed for status or wealth, despite what his birthright claimed.
He preferred simple clothes over ostentatiousness.
He preferred gin over brandy. He preferred whist over loo.
All of his preferences leaned toward a quieter, more laid-back life, so much so that both his wife and his mother often claimed that he was behaving more and more like a tradesman every year.
Of course, his mother said that about his father as well. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, or so they say.
All of this musing merely emphasized the gaping wound in John’s heart where his father had once lived.
Now, he was gone, and John missed him terribly.
Never again would he hear his father tease his mother gently and affectionately about how much she had spent on a gown.
Never again would he see his father sitting at his desk poring over ledgers that, even after years of practice, he was still absolutely terrible at keeping.
Never again would they drink port together after dinner or play endless rounds of vingt-et-un to pass a boring evening.
Eventually, John was surprised to find that his random path had led him to the home of his cousin, Darcy. He knocked, and he was quickly shown into Darcy’s study.
John was again surprised, but pleased, to find his younger brother, Richard, already there.
In John’s opinion Richard had the best possible position in life, though Richard bemoaned it frequently.
Richard was a colonel, which gave him purpose and responsibility when he wanted it, though he could certainly foist it all off on his adjutant and secretaries when he wished.
Additionally, Richard had an income from his position which was just enough money to live quite comfortably and easily as a single gentleman but not enough to attract a scheming, greedy, or social-climbing wife.
That was beginning to change as the ladies of society were increasingly aware that John had no children, making Richard or Richard’s future son the heir to the title of Earl of Matlock.
After greeting the two men, John asked Richard, “So, what brings you here to Darcy’s?”
Richard shrugged. “Same as you, I imagine. I simply could not bear to go home. I suppose I could have gone to comfort Mother, but I am not certain I am strong enough to bear her sorrow just yet. I will have to before the day is out, though.”
“It might be easier if you simply move back in with her, don’t you think?” asked John. “That way, neither of you will have to face this alone.”
“An excellent plan,” said Richard. “There is only one problem with that. She will have to move out of her home now that you are the earl. I would not wish to burden her at a time like this.”
“Don’t worry about that. I will not do anything for at least three months, and I will make certain Natalie says nothing about it, either,” said John.
“If Mother hasn’t found a place she likes, I can try to hold Natalie back for another three months, but that will be increasingly difficult.
If it comes down to it, we can simply swap houses.
My current place would be quite comfortable enough for both of you, and it will save her the effort of searching for a new one. ”
“Honestly, I think that it would be helpful rather than a burden for Lady Matlock to have one of her sons living with her,” said Darcy. “If nothing else, you can help her when she does end up moving house.”
“Speaking of houses,” said John, “do either of you know of a place in the country I could go that is fairly close to London but that I might not be recognized?”
Both his brother and his cousin gave him puzzled looks. Then Richard said, “It seems an odd time to want to leave when we were just discussing how best to support Mother.”
John felt ashamed of himself, but he continued anyway.
“You can support Mother. I need to get away from Natalie. Do you know, as soon as I came home from Father’s funeral, she said she was glad he was gone?
Most of the time, I can handle her personality quirks, but this is not one of those times.
I turned around and walked right back out of the house.
I know I need to stick around for the next few weeks, but then I thought it might be a relief to escape her for a month or two until Mother is ready to move.
However, I need to stay close to London in case she tries to cause trouble. ”
Both men gave John a sympathetic look, though Darcy’s face might also have held a bit of smugness as well. His wife was nothing like Natalie.
“If you truly think it necessary, I may know of the perfect place,” said Darcy.
“There is a large manor house in the neighborhood where my wife grew up that the owner leases out. It has a large hunting forest on one side, and access to that comes with the lease. Though you won’t be able to hunt at this time of year, it would make a good place to explore and waste time in.
Additionally, though the neighbors aren’t particularly well-mannered, they are friendly and welcoming people.
Honestly, I think you might like them more than you like most Londoners. ”
“And how far away is it?” asked John.
“A little more than twenty miles or so. The last few times I went to the neighborhood, it took just over three hours in my chaise and four.”
“It sounds perfect,” said John. “Do you happen to know if it is vacant?”
“I am not certain, but last I heard it was,” said Darcy. “Here, let me get you the address of the agent, and you can make your own inquiries.”
Darcy scribbled down a note and handed it to John. It gave the name and address of one Mr. Phillips, a solicitor in Meryton.
John stayed at Darcy’s for a couple of hours.
It was somehow comforting to simply chat about nothing with two other men who both shared the same sorrow.
They didn’t talk about his late father. His death was too recent and the pain too raw.
Even so, when John left his cousin’s home, he felt much better than he had when he arrived.
He walked the three blocks home and arrived just in time to change for dinner.
Not three minutes into the meal, Natalie asked, “So, when will we be moving into our new home?”
John stared at his wife. He should have expected this after her last comment, but he did not. He replied, “I hope you have not said anything about that to my mother?”
“Of course not,” said Natalie. “I have the greatest respect for the dowager Countess.”