Chapter Seven #2
“Well, we are progressing expeditiously toward falling in love, and that is quite the same thing – though I suppose that makes it a greater tragedy, for I fear we shall never quite get there if we are torn apart like this.” Elizabeth fidgeted for a moment, and then gave her cousin a wicked look.
“Although, I suppose there is another way….”
Rebecca returned her twinkle of mischief. “My dear cousin, there is always a way around one’s overbearing mother.”
“Will you help me?”
Rebecca flopped down on the bed beside her. “What, do you mean to meet with him in secret?”
Elizabeth needed only a moment to consider. “Absolutely! Indeed, I daresay it will be vastly romantic! His very name arouses such ardor in me – that he has been forbidden shall only make it sweeter – I am surprised Mamma does not realize this.”
Rebecca sat up and folded her knees into her chest as she gave Elizabeth an odd look. “I suppose if you require some reason to be often visiting Matlock House, you may claim the excuse of helping me with wedding planning.”
“What?” Elizabeth scrambled to sit up properly, but she leaned forward with interest. “Who is getting married? Has Rose had a proposal and not told me? The cheek of it!”
“No, Lizzy – it is me.”
“No!” Elizabeth tensed a little as she regarded her cousin. Rebecca had sworn never to marry; she jested about it constantly, and had always diverted Elizabeth with her glee in tormenting the opposite sex. “What happened?”
“I accepted a marriage proposal – that is generally what happens before one is required to plan a wedding, Lizzy.”
Elizabeth grabbed her cousin with both hands. “Who??”
Rebecca pursed her lips and gave Elizabeth a satirical smirk. “Lord Douglas – Oscar, I am to call him, now. If you have thought me wicked as the daughter of an earl, I shall be insufferable as a marchioness!”
“Lord Douglas! But, he is... I thought you said… the rumors about Rupert….”
“Which makes it all the more convenient for Oscar, I suppose. And it can be nothing to me; I should hardly want him in my bed.”
“But how? Why? I am all astonishment.” Elizabeth leaned back against the pillows, ready to hear her cousin’s shocking account.
“Well, Oscar Douglas may be debauched, and he may have his particular preferences – including an unaccountable fondness for my brother – but he is not a stupid man. He could see that you were not interested in becoming the lively bride who would distract society from his… singularities… and so he turned to another bold personality.”
“You danced with him twice at the ball,” Elizabeth said, considering that in a new light.
“Yes; he broached the subject of marriage during our second set. It was pleasantly unromantic. I did inform him that I must speak with you before my acceptance was final; I trust you have no objection?”
“Not at all, but it is kind of you to think of me. Rebecca, are you quite sure it is what you want?”
Rebecca shrugged her shoulders. “I should rather have a house of my own than live with my mother forever, and I have no wish to still be at home when the money runs out. Perhaps Oscar might even talk some sense into Rupert, and convince him to cease his profligate spending. He has already done enough damage that one of the daughters of this house must marry well, and it hardly seems fair that it should fall to Rose, who might really make a love match. I am not capable of that, I do not think, and so I shall be the sacrificial lamb on the altar of prudence.”
“You make it sound so bleak,” Elizabeth sighed.
Rebecca screwed up her face. “Really? That is hardly my intention – I am quite pleased with myself. I am sure Lady Catherine will be furious, which will be amusing once the worst of her ire has subsided. The marquess is fond of amusement and society, and can easily afford his lavish lifestyle. We agreed to certain terms – we shall each pursue our own private interests, so long as we are discreet, and I shall have a comfortable allowance and complete liberty to redecorate his homes all to my own taste. I may invite company as often as I choose, reside in any of his homes and go from one to the other as often as I please, and since he has four brothers, he does not care a whit if there is no heir. I should call that an ideal marriage.”
Elizabeth was silent for a few minutes as she considered all this. “But are you quite sure your disposition is not suited to real affection? Under all your bluster, is there no sense of romance at all?”
“None whatsoever, I am afraid. No, I am just black-hearted, self-indulgent Rebecca, though I must say it is rather noble of me to fall upon the financial sword in making a grand match so that Rose may do as she pleases.”
“Oh! Certainly – it is very generous of you. Does she know?”
“She does, and she thinks me quite mad, but she was exceedingly grateful. I should like her to be often with me, though she drives me to distraction – but she is like you, Lizzy, and prefers to be in London, beset by so many beaux.”
Elizabeth made a droll face. “You know there is only one man I am interested in. And I am very interested! Oh Rebecca, I wish you could know such wondrous sentiments!”
Rebecca listened in good humor as Elizabeth waxed poetical on the many charms of Mr. Darcy, not the least of which was the romance and music of his name.
She described their thrilling kiss at Vauxhall and speculated on what she imagined their next embrace might be like, she praised his intelligence and sly, sardonic wit, as well as her desire to acquaint herself with his every opinion and compare all his impressions with her own, and then she resumed her lamentations that they must be parted.
“I should hardly wish to be prone to such powerful affection, now that I see how this impending separation has driven you quite mad! But you paint a very pretty picture, I shall grant you – and you know I am inclined to be of aid to your cause. I have long enjoyed vexing your mother, you know.”