Chapter Fourteen
Rosings Park, Kent
Lady Rebecca had never awoken so unpleasantly in the whole course of her life. Cold water assaulted her face and her thick, curly hair clung to her as she sat up with a jolt to the screeching of her furious aunt.
“Where is she, Rebecca? My daughter is not here. You have deceived me most egregiously! It is not to be borne! Tell me at once where Elizabeth has gone!”
Rebecca rubbed at her eyes and groaned. “Good Lord, what hour is it?”
“Your last,” she thundered, “If you do not tell me at once where my supposedly ill daughter is!”
“I will not! I gave her my word.”
“I think I can guess where she has gone – to be with that insidious, grasping nobody! And I suppose you have concocted this little scheme for her to feign illness and flee, for though I have received daily updates from the physician, my housekeeper informs me that he never set foot in the house!”
Rebecca folded her arms in front of her chest as she sat back against her plush pillows. “If you have come to such conclusions already, I wonder what you need to ask of me.”
Lady Catherine’s eyes flashed with sheer hellfire.
“Is this all the reply I am to expect? Insolent girl! I am Elizabeth’s guardian, and I have a right to know where she is, and who she is with.
She has the reputation of her sister and her young cousin Georgiana to consider – and even your own, though you care little for it. ”
Rebecca arched a brow and gave a little shrug of agreement on that score, which only further incensed her aunt. “Rebecca Louise Fitzwilliam, I demand you get your lazy arse out of that bed at once, and account for yourself! You are not a marchioness yet, and you are a guest in my home!”
Rebecca held her aunt’s stare for a minute or two before she slowly turned and extricated herself from her luxurious bedding. She stood in the sodden night rail and glared defiantly at her aunt. “Do you care nothing for Elizabeth’s happiness?”
“How dare you ask me such a question,” Lady Catherine hissed.
“I love that girl with all my heart, though it may amuse you to think I do not have one. Surely this must be why you have allowed me to believe for three days that she is ill. You have let me fret over her every hour; it is you who are unfeeling, Rebecca, and I will not tolerate it.”
“So sick with worry that you still elected to travel to Beaumont Hall so that you would not be denied a say in the wedding preparations?”
“Wretched, diabolical hoyden! How dare you! The whole family has been distressed by your careless falsehoods, and when I find my daughter, I shall tell her the very same. You have not denied that she has gone to that good-for-nothing social climber, and I shall find her. You will be dealt with later, when I am not so full of violence.”
“She is probably halfway to Scotland by now. You cannot possibly hope to recover her.”
Lady Catherine gave her a parting grimace and swept out of the room, slamming the door behind her, and a moment later Rebecca heard a key turning in the lock.
She flew to the door and pulled with all her might, but she was too late.
Her aunt had locked her in. She pounded on the door.
“Let me out! Let her be with him, you wicked old harpy! Let her be happy!”
As Rebecca tired of pounding on the door, a maid entered from a side door with a breakfast tray. “Begging your pardon, milady; we all heard the shouting, and I thought I might bring your breakfast up before I was told not to.”
Lady Rebecca grinned wolfishly at the girl. “How exceedingly enterprising. What is your name?”
“Emily, your ladyship.” The maid set the tray down and bobbed into a very smooth curtsey.
“Emily, you have been exceedingly obliging already; I wonder if you should like a chance to continue impressing me. I have a letter I need sent in the utmost haste and secrecy.”
Emily smiled. “I can manage that. My mother is ill, and my little brother came with me to work this morning. He’s rather a nuisance and won’t be missed – I should think the housekeeper and cook will be relieved if he should wander off.”
“What age is he? Old enough and sensible enough to manage it well, if there is a sovereign in it for you?”
Emily straightened her shoulders and faced Lady Rebecca boldly. “His discretion can be trusted, but….”
Rebecca was already rummaging through her drawer, where she had hidden the letter of warning she had written in advance, cleverly prepared for just such a crisis as this. "But what?”
“Well, if it’s linked back to me, I could lose my place.”
“Three sovereigns, then.”
Emily wrung her hands. “My father just died, you see, and my mother has been ill. My sister works in the kitchen, but the rest of us are too young to earn.”
“Five pounds, if the housekeeper can confirm that what you say is true – and if you can see that I am not starved while I am locked away. That is my final offer, and if you decline it, I am sure one of the other maids shall soon make you envy her good fortune in my esteem.”
“Yes, of course, your ladyship.”
“Lady Rebecca will do.” She stalked forward and handed the girl the letter.
“I like you, Emily. It takes some nerve to negotiate with me, and an ally dearly purchased is an ally long retained; it is good that you cannot be bought cheaply. Yes, I like you very well. I shall be setting up a household in Scotland next month – if your family should like some new environs, I would retain your services and find a place for your sister.”
“Oh, thank you,” Emily cried, fanning herself with the letter in her hand and looking as if she would fall to her knees. “It is true, what I told you, and my mother is half Scottish, so I know she would love it!”
“I am generous, so long as I am not crossed. I think I shall enjoy having a clever and resourceful creature like you in my service – I daresay your sister will be just as keen for interesting extra work.” Lady Rebecca winked, then began sampling from her breakfast tray.
“Yes, Lady Rebecca.” Emily took in the sight of Rebecca’s wet hair and damp night rail. “Shall I take this down before I dress you?”
“Yes, and do keep an eye out for any letters sent back to me.”
The maid hastened back to the entrance she had come through, a small door that blended into the paneling of the wall.
She stopped as she opened it, and looked back over her shoulder.
“I will much like working for you, your ladyship, and my sister, too. You’re a sly one, and I respect it.
And if you recall, this passage leads two flights down to the servants’ passage – where you snuck Miss Elizabeth out a few days ago.
That passage isn’t well lit, and there’s nobody about from three o’clock until six.
A dozen paces, and then a left turn to the nearest servants’ door. I thought… if you were wondering….”
Rebecca laughed heartily. “Very good, Emily. You will go far in life with such… informative service.”
Left alone once more, she had little to do but enjoy her breakfast and fume over all the spiteful things she wished she had said to her aunt.
She had no respect for what Lady Catherine wished for Elizabeth.
She had been uncommonly lucky that Jane and Richard felt enough affection for one another to accede to her wishes for a match between them.
But Lady Catherine was mad if she truly believed she could bend Elizabeth to such a match.
Rebecca knew herself – she would be perfectly content in a life with the marquess, but she did not share her cousin’s desire for romance and marital intimacy.
And yet, Lady Catherine would have preferred to see her daughter in just such an arrangement, rather than allow her to marry Mr. Darcy and experience a deep and abiding love and respect.
“I am not at all sorry for what I have done,” she said to herself, finishing her breakfast just as Emily returned to dress her.
“Perhaps you might select a modest gown, something that conveys a look of penitence? Her ladyship has summoned the rest of the family, and she is on quite a tear.”
“Think again,” Lady Rebecca quipped. “Lady Catherine is probably going to kill me, and I should like to meet my end in style. You will learn my preferences in time.”
After she was dressed in her favorite, most ostentatious frock, Rebecca had only to wait.
After a couple of hours, she saw the caravan of barouches coming up the front drive, and she knew it was only a matter of time before another of her relations came to take a bite out of her; she wondered who it would be.
She did not expect it to be Jane. Half an hour after her the family returned, a key again turned in the lock, and Jane stormed into Rebecca’s bedchamber. Richard stalked behind her with a severe look for his sister; she supposed he had come to bolster the confidence of his gentle bride.
“Rebecca, what have you done? I know you like a bit of mischief, but you have gone too far!”
“She loves him, Jane! Why should I have stopped her?”
“Because she might be ruined! Her reputation could damage this whole family!”
“Only if you are determined that it should. It might just as easily be all hushed up; a family such as ours can hide a lot worse.”
“Hushed up! Forgive me if I wish better for my sister than hushed up, Rebecca.”
“Better?” Rebecca gestured wildly, and Richard took a protective step closer.
“What better? What does that even mean? She received no other offers of marriage from any of the titled disappointments to manhood that your mother would have had her choose – beyond being unforgivably underwhelming, they all miraculously had the good sense to see that she did not like them. She loves Mr. Darcy, and she believes that he will make her happy. It is hardly as if she has run off with a stable boy! He is a gentleman of property, at least.”
“If Mamma did not approve of him, she must have some reason.”
“I have told you her reasons, Jane! Richard, he is your friend – will you not defend him now?”