They acknowledged Georgie had exercised poor judgement but given her age and the skill of the manipulator, they understood why she reacted as she had. Although he appreciated their kindness and attempted to see things as they did, he could not agree with them; neither could his sister.
Thank goodness everyone had agreed Lady Catherine de Bourgh was not to be told anything of the matter, under any circumstances. They knew she would attempt to use the information to bolster the myth she perpetuated that Darcy’s mother, Lady Anne, had agreed Darcy was to marry his cousin Anne De Bourgh in order to unite the great estates of Pemberly in Derbyshire and Rosings Park in Kent.
Such an agreement had never been mentioned before his mother’s death. Everyone in the family knew this was a lie, a fantasy created by Lady Catherine to control Rosings Park and to access Pemberley’s coffers.
Darcy feared, should Lady Catherine learn what had happened, she would attempt to bring his sister under her control. However, his parents had made sure that would never happen. George Darcy not only vociferously refused Lady Catherine; he had ordered her out of his house.
Both of William’s parents had placed stipulations in their wills refuting Lady Catherine’s claims. Further, Lady Anne had expressed her wishes in a letter to her brother Reggie, the Earl of Matlock and head of the family. In it, she made it clear neither she nor her husband had ever agreed to a match between their son and Catherine’s daughter, and no one could claim they had.
They would never force their children to marry without love or against their inclination; neither favoured arranged marriages. Both their son and their daughter would have the freedom to find life partners they would respect and love. Lady Anne had told Darcy before she died that he was to marry for love, and only for love. Her only restriction was his choice should be, at least, the daughter of a gentleman. This was re-stated by his late father before he passed.
Although Rosings Park had belonged to Anne since her five and twentieth birthday, in order to justify retaining control of Anne’s estate, Lady Catherine convinced the family Anne was too ill to manage her inheritance. When Anne reached the age when she might consider marriage, she insisted she had no interest whatsoever in marrying Darcy—but that never deterred Lady Catherine.
After her numerous requests to George and Lady Anne Darcy for a marriage contract had been rejected out of hand, Lady Catherine was displeased. She had always coveted Pemberley’s vast wealth and believe the match she proposed would give her access to the Darcy fortune she lusted after. Her wish for Darcy to marry her daughter grew into an obsession, fuelled only by her greed.
The family was aware she was jealous of her sister, who had made a love match with George Darcy—and thereby gained a husband with one of the largest fortunes in the Kingdom. Lady Catherine’s avarice now knew no bounds; however, she learned to remain silent about the match she desired while Fitzwilliam Darcy’s parents were alive.
After her sister’s untimely passing, she once again had the temerity to demand a marriage contract from her grieving husband, claiming Lady Anne had agreed to it—dismissing the fact both parents had rejected all of her previous requests.
Only days after George Darcy’s funeral, Lady Catherine arrived at Pemberley for the purpose of assuming control of the house she wanted her daughter Anne to be mistress of. She was again seriously displeased when she was unceremoniously shown out and told everyone knew her claims of an agreement were false. She returned to Rosings Park forthwith.
After her return, she began parroting her delusion to anyone who would listen, thinking to force the issue. However, all who knew her were aware Lady Catherine was a fortune hunter disguised as an overbearing mother. Her current interest was in maintaining control over the fortune that now belonged to her daughter, not herself.
Everyone knew one day there would be a war of wills when the time came to remove Lady Catherine from her throne. Any who had seen her guilt-edged raised chair, the one she sat in when company was present, the one from which she dispensed unwanted advice, had dubbed it the throne.
She claimed absolute knowledge of any subject. She would have been horrified had she known nearly everyone knew she was usually wrong. Lady Catherine had little education and even fewer accomplishments. Her family never confided in her.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
In lucid moments, Fitzwilliam Darcy knew he was unhappy with the trajectory his life had taken, but he did not know how to change course. Ever since Ramsgate he needed more and more liquor to relax, to dull his senses, and to quiet his mind. He had begun to hate himself for it.
Darcy was haunted continually by the realisation of his failures. He was unable to sleep; when he tried, there were nightmares. He had difficulty eating; food tasted like dirt in his mouth. He no longer took pleasure in the things that had previously given him enjoyment, not even in performing his duties.
Although he had failed to ensure his sister’s wellbeing, he had kept the promise he had sworn to his parents—to remain celibate until marriage. This meant he did not have the physical outlets most men in his social circle did. He never smiled—unless he occasionally forced a smile for his sister—he was too angry with himself.
One bright hope in his life was that, after many interviews and an exacting confirmation of her characters, he and his co-guardian had hired a new companion for Georgiana, a Mrs. Helena Annesley. She, they had found, had genuine, impeccable references, and was born a gentlewoman.
Mrs Annesley had married at the age of sixteen and was widowed when her husband drowned after falling into a river while fishing. He had not been a good manager of their money; he had lost most of it in risky investments. His widow was left destitute, with no choice but to go into service.
Her previous employers were the Duke and Duchess of Bedford, both of whom had given her a glowing character. Their newly-married younger daughter told them she was only sorry she could not keep her companion with her after her marriage.
They related the entire story of what Georgiana had been through to Mrs. Annesley; it did not daunt her. Darcy and the Colonel were sure she would, eventually, be able to reach Georgiana—something they had both failed to do.
No matter what anyone said, including the voice in his head he ignored, Darcy knew it to be his fault alone. He had failed his father, his family, and his name by failing in his most basic duties.
He acknowledged God must have been with him that day. By pure chance he had reached Ramsgate before the elopement was to take place. Georgiana was now safe in her bedchamber at Darcy House.
Wickham had slunk away to lick his wounds after his latest scheme failed. The investigators Darcy had hired to locate the wastrel reported he had hidden in the bowels of London, in Seven Dials, where only the lowest of the low went to skulk in the shadows. There would be no help for Georgiana’s manipulator if his cousin Richard ever got his hands on him.
Sitting in his study, he reminded himself, were his excellent father still living, he would never have allowed this to happen. It struck Darcy for the first time, that his father may have had some modicum of blame in this as well.
Blind to any of Wickham’s faults, had not his father educated George as a gentleman? Had not his father ignored what he was told about him, saying he was but sowing his wild oats? Wickham had grown up expecting and demanding more and more from his father—and receiving it. For the first time since Ramsgate, seeds of doubt regarding his own culpability were sown.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
After finishing his drink at White’s the Colonel recovered his outerwear from an attendant, returned to his barracks, and asked to meet with his commanding officer, General Grant Atherton. He requested, and was granted, a leave of absence that would start the following Sunday. Armed with this knowledge, he headed to Darcy House after the completion of his duties.
Killion opened the door, took his outerwear, and confirmed the master was ensconced in his study. The Colonel did not have to ask about his cousin’s mood; he could tell by the sombre feeling in the house.
