Chapter Twenty
They had not long to wait; two messages arrived by the next afternoon while Darcy and Elizabeth were calling on the Bingleys to share their happy news.
The first was from Richard, who had arrived at Rosings and, bearing a note from Miss de Bourgh for the steward, and been granted access to all of Lady Catherine’s ledgers and papers. There was a wealth of incriminating documents, and Richard meant to take possession of them all.
The second missive was from the dowager countess, Lady Margaret Fitzwilliam. She had received her son’s plea for assistance the previous evening and was so eager to bring down Lady Catherine that she had packed her things at once and set out at dawn, her youngest daughter in tow.
Richard returned from Rosings that afternoon, travel weary but ready to wreak havoc, and he barely had time to reveal to Darcy all that he had learnt at Rosings before it was time for the three merry residents of Sandpiper Cottage to meet Elizabeth and Sir Edward at the hotel to greet the dowager countess and her daughter Lady Rebecca.
Elizabeth laughed as Lady Margaret was handed down from her carriage. “I had expected a large and imposing old woman,” she whispered to Darcy. “Your aunt might be mistaken for the sister of her children! Look at my poor uncle’s face!”
Sir Edward indeed appeared awestruck by the sight of the diminutive widow, whose elegant attire was overtly feminine, making her appear younger than her nearly fifty years. Lady Margaret was equally pleased with Elizabeth and Sir Edward as Richard performed the introductions.
“My son Richard devoted many paragraphs to your praise, Miss Gardiner, and it appears none of it was exaggerated, nor was his depiction of this charming village.”
“I thank you, but I am Miss Bennet,” Elizabeth said with cheerful confusion. “My uncle is Sir Edward Gardiner; he is my late mother’s brother.”
The dowager countess cast another appreciative gaze over the red-faced Sir Edward.
“This is not your brother? Well! Forgive my mistake—my impudent son referred to you only as Lizzy. It is a charming appellation, which I do hope you shall grant me the use of—though not my son, for his effrontery must be punished every once in a while.”
Elizabeth chortled and nodded her consent, and then stuck her tongue out at Richard, who recoiled with a hand on his heart. Darcy might have floated away from the lightness in his heart at seeing Elizabeth so easy amongst his relations.
“You will do very well for our dear William,” Lady Margaret declared. “I can see for myself that you are lively and warm, and there is such a glint in your eye that I shall wager a guess you are cleverer even than my nephew, which shall serve you well—for many years, I hope.”
Lady Rebecca was equally effusive in her delight with Sanditon, Elizabeth, and the Tremont Hotel as they all made their way inside.
Sir Edward ordered his footmen to bring the ladies’ trunks to the finest suite on the ground floor, eliciting a laugh from Darcy when he realized that his aunt, also on that floor, had not been given the finest suite—he had no doubt she would have asked for it.
“I hope I may make use of a maid or two from your staff, Sir Edward; I have loaned a few servants to my eldest daughter Roberta, who is lately married and experiencing some difficulties in establishing her household—poor girl is fussy like Catherine, and having a hard time of things. I was delighted to have some excuse to put off helping her myself!” Lady Margaret said, giving an exaggeratedly girlish laugh as she attached herself to Sir Edward’s arm.
Connors the concierge was waiting at attention in the elegant marble lobby, and presented Lady Rebecca with a basket containing cakes, pouches of tea, two pretty painted fans depicting the coastal landscape, a pamphlet detailing the town’s attractions, and other various offerings.
He bowed deeply. “We have two maids ready to assist you in refreshing yourselves from your travels, your Ladyship.
They will also bring hot water for tea and a selection of fresh fruit.
I will be at the desk if you require anything before eight o'clock. At this hour, there is a public dinner in our Sunset Ballroom, though a reduced staff will be available should you prefere to dine in your suite.”
Lady Margaret thanked him, and Darcy shared a private smile with his beloved at the sight of the fastidious and dignified concierge as he realized his error. “Your Ladyships both are most welcome to Sanditon. May your stay at the Tremont be lengthy and enjoyable.”
“Thank you, Mr. Mayor,” Lady Margaret drawled, and they moved down the corridor, leaving a stupefied but satisfied Connors in their wake.
They passed Anne in the corridor, with Miss Lovelace on her arm and her puppy on its lead. She blanched but greeted them cordially. Lady Margaret said only, “I will deal with you later. Be in your rooms with your mother in one hour.”
His aunt asked Darcy and the others to make themselves comfortable in the parlor of her suite, promising she and her daughter would not be long in refreshing themselves.
Darcy occupied the quarter hour they spent waiting on his aunt in regaling Elizabeth and her uncle with tales of his many happy memories with the Fitzwilliams; when Richard began to understand what Darcy was about, he ceased delighting in tales of Darcy’s youthful folly and instead began to sing his mother’s praises to Sir Edward. Darcy heartily agreed with it all.
Elizabeth brushed Darcy’s shoulder as she leaned close to whisper, “The pair of you grow worse than Mrs. Jennings and Mrs. Knightley—shall you next join in their little wager?”
“Not at all,” Darcy whispered back to her. “I am prepared to submit to the superior wisdom of the ladies, as my aunt has commanded.”
When the two ladies emerged from their separate chambers, ready to speak with their visitors, Richard instructed Georgiana to take Lady Rebecca out to the terrace and perhaps stroll down to the beach.
Georgiana looked to Darcy in protest, and though he understood her desire to be included, he could see that their cousin had no wish for her to be pained by whatever was to be revealed—or worse, tempted to speak too candidly of it to Lady Catherine.
“Go and reacquaint yourself with Lady Rebecca—the five years’ difference in your ages must not seem so very great anymore. ”
Sir Edward was not immune to the charms of Lady Margaret, which her son and nephew had extolled.
He served her tea and refreshments himself, and more than once stammered over his words to her.
“I understand if you wish not to include me in your discussion—Lizzy and I have a great deal of admiration—er, preparations—the supper in the ballroom…. It must be a private family matter….”
Lady Margaret smiled indulgently. “It is a family matter, and you are to become family. That is the point of all this, is it not?”
The five of them were seated around a low table in the center of the parlor, and both Richard and the dowager countess had laid packets of old documents upon it; Darcy eyed them with a mounting sense of dread, knowing they must begin but fearing what he might discover.
But Elizabeth was at his side, and he would endure anything if it meant he would find a way to be with her; anything short of destroying his sister’s future.
His aunt smoothed out her skirts, looking every bit like a little queen as she gazed between all her companions with poised benevolence.
“I wish to ascertain that I understand the situation properly. Darcy, you have been coerced by Lady Catherine into affiancing yourself to Anne, and after her marked preference for another, and forming a new attachment of your own, you wish to sever your aunt’s control over you so that you might marry this charming young lady, our dear Lizzy. Have I got it right?”
“Yes,” he said somberly. “I have learned that Anne wishes the same. Her affections lie elsewhere—though thankfully not with the fortune hunter that has now jilted her.”
“Ooh, fascinating,” Lady Margaret purred.
Darcy frowned. “It is a sad circumstance, though she looks forward to a cheerful spinsterhood once her mother has been dealt with. There has been considerable abuse, which I was not aware of.”
“I rather pity her,” Elizabeth said. Darcy had told her every particular of his conversation with Anne, evoking an impassioned and almost protective response toward his cousin, who had been prone to slight her rival.
“You are generous,” Lady Margaret said, appearing even more impressed with her future niece. “Tell me, William—you are willing to break forever with Lady Catherine? Your late mother was uncommonly fond of her.”
“Perhaps my mother was blind to Lady Catherine’s true character, or perhaps my aunt was not so very bad a dozen years ago.
Either way, familial harmony seems impossible with such a tyrant as she has grown,” Darcy replied.
Beside him, Elizabeth squeezed his hand.
There was not pity in her look but pride, and this bolstered his resolve.
Lady Margaret gave a wistful nod of her head. “Very well. I must own to some little regret that I have not been a more diligent aunt to you, and perhaps to Anne, having so many children of my own, though they are nearly all grown.”
“But you have come to Mr. Darcy’s aid now, when it appears he needs you most, my lady.” Sir Edward gave her a reassuring pat on the arm and then hastily withdrew his hand, his face turning furiously pink.
“What I have to tell you does not quite feel like a kindness,” his aunt said, her gaze falling on the packet of old papers.
“But I have been very active on your behalf since receiving Richard’s express.
Some of this information I already possessed, and the rest I obtained from your solicitor, who also works for Rupert, and who knows when not to anger the widow and mother of a peer. ”