Two days later, Darcy arrived at Rivington and was greeted by his cousins. Darcy went up to his suite to wash and change. By the time he arrived, his valet, Carstens, was already unpacking his trunks. A half hour later, he was on his way back down to meet the brothers.
“So Rich, how are you adjusting to life as a landed gentleman?” Darcy asked as the three sipped madeira before dinner.
“I am making the transition rather well. I thought I would miss the army far more than I have. I would have done my duty to King and country, but that letter your late father wrote to me forced me to look at my former beliefs from a very different perspective. Speaking of fathers, mine was here and assisted me a lot. Now Andy will be with me for another two months, and you are here for several months as well, I hope. I am confident I will learn what I need to know,” Richard related. “Before I forget, you will never guess who darkened my door a day after Father departed to join Mother and Anna.”
“The mistress of Rosings Park?” Darcy guessed withraised eyebrows.
“The very same. Evidently now that I am the owner of an estate, I am eligible to marry her daughter. She would prefer that it be you or Andy, as your estates are much farther away, which would leave her to rule her fiefdom unmolested, or so she believes.” Richard rolled his eyes.
“Our aunt is very transparent. All of her machinations are designed to keep control of the estate for herself and keep it away from Anne’s cousin Albert de Bourgh. Father told us that according to our late Uncle Lewis’s will, if Anne is not married by five and twenty, the estate will devolve to de Bourgh. We all know Anne is not healthy enough to be a true wife to any man, Aunt Catherine’s blustering notwithstanding. That is the only reason she isloweringher expectations to allow Richard to marry Anne. As much as she would dislike a husband who lives close to Rosings Park, she detests the thought that de Bourgh may be able to claim the estate in less than six years even more,” Andrew revealed.
“So after Aunt Cat’s talk of money-grabbing tradesmen, it seems that she is the worst fortune hunter of them all,” Richard summarised. “William, you do not look easy. Is it talk of our aunt and her mercenary ways, or did something occur in London which troubled you?”
“The latter. I made the mistake of…” Darcy explained all about his call to Hurst House.
“We will come back to Miss Bingley, but William, I have always found you rather hypocritical regarding thetaintof trade. Your late father was, and our father is, very close to Mr Henry Bennet, yet you hold him in disdain because he once may have been in trade; how is it you accept Bingley?” Andrew pressed.
“Ehrm, Bingley is going to buy an estate…” Darcy attempted to justify a position his late father had also questioned. Was this just loyalty to his mother, and had her feelings been purely driven by her older sister?
“Darcy, you clodpole,” Andrew shot back, “Mr Bennet owns an estate and has done so for close to twenty years, one which brings in more than Pemberley. If that were not enough, he was an estate owner in India for twenty years before that. Does an estate owner not trump someone who may or may not own one at some point in the future? You do know that unlike Bingley, Mr Bennet was born a gentleman, do you not?” Richard had not been told about Mr Bennet’s vast wealth, and as he was honour bound not to mention it, Andrew did not say anything about the man his cousin was prejudiced against being many times wealthier than himself.
There was nothing Darcy could say. It seemed his mother had been wrong, but how could he acknowledge that and not dishonour her wishes? But then again, was he not doing the very same thing to his father’s desires? Had Father not told him in almost those words that his mother was wrong and had only been influenced by her sister, who Darcy knew was never, or almost never, right? Was he being a buffoon? Before he could ponder that, Richard spoke.
“Besides your hypocrisy in your treatment of Bingley and Mr Bennet, if you do not put your foot down with Miss Bingley, you will have no one to blame but yourself,” Richard asserted.
“I spoke to Bingley at White’s. I once again told him that not even entrapping me will get me to agree to marry the shrew,” Darcy responded.
“William, you know better than any that Miss Bingley wears the breeches in that family. When have you ever seen the puppy stand up to her? Even if he says something, she will ignore him, and well you know it,” Richard rebutted. “You and I both know he needs to grow up and find his backbone.”
As much as he wanted to refute Richard’s words, Darcy knew he could not and still remain honest. For the nonce,he would only meet Bingley at the club because he had no confidence if he invited Bingley, and only Bingley, to Darcy House or Pemberley Miss Bingley would not be with him.
He had much on which to cogitate.
Chapter 11
March 1809
Notwithstanding Jane and Lydia never calling at the dower house to see him, Henry was more than satisfied with the time he spent with Lizzy, Mary, and Kitty. Lizzy had turned eighteen a few days past, Mary would be sixteen in April, and Kitty had turned fourteen in the previous February.
When he had moved in, Kitty had requested he allow her cat, Cleopatra, and two of her kittens, to come live at the dower house and away from Mama. Henry had agreed without delay.
As he had guessed, since the day Cleopatra and kittens had moved in, nary a mouse had been seen in the house. Unless Kitty was spending the night at his house, Cleopatra slept on his bed most nights. As she got older, the cat enjoyed more time sleeping in a warm place than exploring outside.
Lizzy, more so than her next two younger sisters, would spend time with him. Henry was well aware that Mary and Kitty still had lessons with Mrs Bellamy and the masters who were employed, which was why they did not have as much time to be with him as Lizzy did. The only master Lizzy still took lessons from was the music master, even thoughSignoreda Funti had opined she no longer needed lessons on the pianoforte from him and that her contralto voice had been trained as well as singers who took to the stage.
Each day, Lizzy would come to read to him. By Henry’s previous birthday, when he turned nine and sixty, his eyesighthad weakened, and it had become hard for him to read the print on the pages of books. Lizzy had simply volunteered to read to him. Mary and Kitty took their turns when they called. In the mornings before they broke their fasts, Lizzy would arrive to either walk with Henry or join him in the phaeton for a ride, which, thanks to his failing eyes, he had taught her to drive.
The longest walk they would take was to the base of Oakham Mount and back. Thankfully the land was fairly flat, so the mile or so distance from the dower house was not a hardship for Henry.
On his next birthday, in May upcoming, Henry would be seventy. With each day which passed, he felt more aches and pains from his body, often in places he had not previously known existed. As he, like all mortals, had no clue as to when God would call them to His side, Henry decided it was time to show Sherwood Dale to Lizzy and reveal his fortune to her. At eighteen, he was sure she had the maturity to be able to assimilate what he had to tell her. Intelligence she had in abundance, but without the maturity, she would not have the wisdom she needed.
Lizzy had chosen to come out locally the previous year when she had turned seventeen. Contrary to her mother’s assertions that no male would want to associate with a woman more intelligent than themselves, a woman who read books when she was able, and a woman who rode or walked in the countryside like some sort of hoyden, Lizzy had no shortage of requests for dances at the local quarterly assemblies. Henry remembered the first one she attended; he had been there to see her debut in society. It was the first time he had seen envy in Jane. It was not because some males showed a preference for Lizzy over her; it was because Lizzy had not been pushed out at fifteen.
Even with that, Jane would not tell her mother how she felt and never tried to intercede when Fanny would denigrateLizzy away from their father’s presence. Of course, Thomas had not bestirred himself to attend his second daughter’s first ball. Hence, he had not danced the opening set with her. Henry had accepted that honour.
Now he just had to catch Thomas in a good mood so he would grant his permission for Lizzy to travel north with him.
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