After reading the document which essentially said what his uncle had, Bennet saw no reason not to sign it and the copies his uncle presented to him. Hill was summoned to witness the signatures of both Bennets.
Henry stood after handing one copy to Bennet for his records. “A suggestion. If I were you, I would inform Fanny of my relocation to this estate as soon as may be. I think the day I move in may be a little too late.” With that, Henry took his leave. He intended to have one copy with Phillips, one for Gardiner, another for Mr Crawley, and the final one for himself. He was glad he did not need to bribe Bennet, something whichwould have sunk his opinion of his nephew even lower than it was already.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Bennet sat in his study for a while after Uncle Henry left it. He was having an internal debate with himself about when to tell Fanny that his uncle would soon be a resident of the estate.
In the end, he decided to take his uncle’s advice and not delay telling her the news. That would allow her enough time—hopefully—to adequately vent her spleen before Uncle Henry moved into the dower house. Of course, there was the possibility she would never cease her complaints. He hoped that his wife’s performance would end soon because his uncle living at the dower house was a certainty thanks to the dratted agreement he had signed. He took a deep breath, stood, and pushed his comfortable chair back with his legs.
Once he was in the hallway, the sounds of his wife’s high-pitched voice intermingled with that of Lydia’s told him the two were in the drawing room. He was sure Jane would be present as well, sitting serenely and keeping her opinions to herself. The other three were at their lessons with the masters who were present that day.
“Mr Bennet! What brings you from your book room in this fashion? Are you ill? Have you come to tell me I am soon to inhabit the hedgerows?” Fanny screeched.
“Mrs Bennet, stop your performance this instant!” Bennet demanded.
Fanny was taken aback. Not only was her husband in the drawing room when he did not need to be, but he was being forceful with her. She closed her mouth without another word.
Jane was glad Mama was not attempting to create discord with Papa. At the same time, Lydia was shocked that her mother had receded so easily.
“On the second day of March of this year, Uncle Henrywill take up residence in the dower house, and, Mrs Bennet,” he looked at his wife so she could see he was serious, “it is not up for debate.”
“I refuse to allow that man who will throw me from my home to live at this estate,” Fanny shrieked, ignoring her husband’s prior words.
“As you are not the master here, you have no say. I have allowed it, so it will be as I said. Before you think that caterwauling will gain you anything, know this. All it will do is cost you your allowance, six months at a time. Now would you like to object again?” He stared at Fanny, daring her to gainsay him.
She turned away and sniffed, trying to force some crocodile tears, but her husband was not impressed and turned to leave the drawing room.
Bennet stopped and turned. “Do not let me hear of any attempts to stop our daughters visiting Uncle Henry or him being turned away from visiting us here. Your loss of allowance will be measured in years.” He turned on his heel and left the room to the sounds of gasps from his wife and the two daughters in the drawing room.
Seeing that she was not willing to risk so very much pin money, Fanny clamped her mouth shut.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Even after he was informed that he had inherited an estate in Surrey from his late Uncle Darcy, Richard was not willing to resign from the army yet. After visiting Pemberley, he had returned to the Royal Dragoons’ training grounds to continue to learn the craft of leading men into battle.
Shortly after Twelfth Night, Colonel Grant Atherton, the commander of the regiment in which Second Lieutenant Richard Fitzwilliam served, informed his officers they would be leaving England’s shores for the peninsula before the end of February.
As he had promised to do, Richard sought out his colonel and told all about his inheritance. Colonel Atherton’s advice was to resign and sell his commission. Richard requested leave to travel north to see his family, as there was something he had to know before he took Colonel Atherton’s advice. Three weeks’ leave was granted.
The next morning, Richard mounted Invictus—the stallion Father had gifted him when he had joined the regiment—and began the ride up the Great North Road. It was cold, but thankfully providence shone on him, as there was no rain or snow for the two and one-half days it took to reach Pemberley, where he knew his parents were still staying. He was cold and tired when he arrived, so he requested to be allowed a hot, steaming bath before he spoke to his family.
Lord and Lady Matlock had always known their younger son was obstinate and proud. True, his pride was not the same as William’s, who looked down on those he felt were below him, but it was pride nonetheless.
Once he had taken a long bath and changed into some of his clothes which were kept in the dressing room of the suite he always occupied when at Pemberley, Richard made his way down the grand staircase to the family sitting room where his parents, brother, and the two Darcys sat. He knew his parents wanted to give Anna as much time as she needed before they moved her to Snowhaven.
Anna, who would be ten in March, leapt into Richard’s arms. “It is so good to see you,” Georgiana insisted.
“As it is to see you, Sweetling,” Richard replied gently. “Anna, would you agree to go practise on the pianoforte while I speak to the adults? I saw Miss Younge in the music room, so I know you will not be alone.” He kissed the top of Anna’s head. The older she got, the more in looks she resembled her late mother.
Seeing that it was he who had requested she leave theroom, Richard offered Anna his arm and escorted her the short distance to the music room where Miss Karen Younge was waiting for her.
On his return to the drawing room, Richard pulled the door closed behind him. He explained why he had come now, before he resigned from the army. “To decide my path forward, there is a question I need answered. I know that everyone in this room is honest to a fault, and that is all I ask of you now.”
“Ask Rich; you know we will tell you the truth,” Andrew assured his brother while the other three nodded their agreement.
“Mother and Father, did either of you ask Uncle Robert to bequeath me Rivington to stop me doing my duty to King and country?” Richard asked bluntly. “I need to know, please.”
“No, Richard, none of us in this room asked that of my late brother,” Lord Matlock assured his youngest son. “No matter how much we did not want you to go into battle, it was not something your mother or I could ask of Robert, and the same is true for your brother.” The Earl turned to his nephew. “William was the only one who could have asked that of his father, but I know he did not. In fact, your late Uncle Robert anticipated this question, knowing that you would class this as charity if one of us asked him to do this. William, will you retrieve the letter from the study?”
