Chapter Thirty-Three
The room fell silent at Lord Ashcombe’s declaration. Then Mr. Bennet recovered himself.
“I believe there is some confusion, sir. I am Miss Bennet’s guardian, and I do not recollect ever seeing your face before today, much less signing a contract on your behalf.”
“My father, Alfred Montclair, seventh Earl of Ashcombe, drew up a betrothal contract between myself and Miss Bennet while she was still in her cradle,” Ambrose replied. “As her legal guardian, he possessed every authority to do so.”
“The Earl of Ashcombe her guardian?” said Mr. Bennet. “Because when Trevelyan died, your father wrote to inform me that nothing of the kind had occurred, and that I retained full guardianship over the girl.”
“If he did not become my guardian until my grandfather died,” Elizabeth said, “then I was apparently a remarkably large infant, for I was certainly no longer in a cradle at five.”
Mr. Bennet made a noise that sounded suspiciously like approval. Ambrose continued as though Elizabeth had not spoken.
“My uncle Stephen,” he said, in the tone of a man correcting an insignificant mistake, “had already succeeded in having your guardianship revoked before his death, with my father’s assistance. Upon my uncle’s death, guardianship passed to my father, and the contract was drawn up under that authority.”
“How exceedingly diligent of him,” said Mr. Bennet. “And yet the same man also assured me that no such alteration had taken place, that I remained her guardian in every legal sense, and that Trevelyan had left his estate to him outright. One begins to suspect your father was either a remarkably conscientious guardian or a remarkably accomplished liar, and I confess I find it difficult to make him both simultaneously.”
“You must forgive me if I question the accuracy of your recollection,” he said. “My father was not generally in the habit of discussing private family arrangements beyond those directly concerned by them.”
“As he understood it,” repeated Mr. Bennet. “Yes. I daresay that clarifies everything.”
“I find,” said Elizabeth, “that my own wishes in the matter remain of considerably greater importance to me than any contract drafted over my cradle.”
“Does that mean cousin Elizabeth possesses property? That estate must naturally belong to me. I am to marry her.”
“You are to marry no one,” said Ambrose.
“I have a contract,” said Collins.
“You have a worthless piece of paper.”
“I have Mr. Bennet’s word.”
“Which,” said Ambrose, “appears to carry exactly as much legal authority as Mr. Bennet himself.”
Mrs. Bennet rose in outraged astonishment. “If that girl has property, it ought to belong to this family. We raised her. Twenty years we clothed her and fed her and kept a roof over her head, and never once did anyone mention an estate. If there is money to be had, we deserve our share of it. I deserve it. I have worked myself into nervous misery for this household and I will notsit here while strangers walk away with what ought properly to belong to us.”
“I am already allowing for the five thousand,” Collins said. “Divided fairly, of course, between Mrs. Bennet and the younger girls. A thousand apiece, precisely as agreed. The remainder, together with any estate attached to Miss Bennet, must naturally pass to her husband. One must think ahead. A large establishment requires planning.”
“I want a new dress,” said Lydia. “If everyone is discussing money, I do not see why I should be left out of it entirely.”
“Lydia,” said Mary, from the corner, with the tired disapproval of a woman long resigned to being the only serious person in the room.
The room descended into precisely the kind of argument that Longbourn did best. Mrs. Bennet claimed injustice, Mr. Collins claimed rights, Lydia claimed a new dress, and Mary claimed nobody was behaving sensibly. Mr. Bennet appeared to find the spectacle instructive. Elizabeth endured it as best she could, while Kitty remained quietly at her side. Lord Ashcombe had withdrawn a little from the disturbance, and Jane crossed directly toward him.
"My lord," she said, resting her hand upon his arm, "you must think us a very alarming family."
His eyes dropped briefly to her hand before lifting again to her face. “Only a spirited one.”
Jane smiled. “I hope you will not judge us too harshly. Sudden revelations have unsettled everyone.”
“Such matters generally do.” His gaze lingered upon her another moment. “Still, if certain arrangements are concludedsatisfactorily, I think there may be room for a more agreeable understanding between us.”
Jane lowered her eyes at once, colour rising into her cheeks. Elizabeth, disgusted alike by the implication and by the spectacle her family had made of her future, lost patience entirely.
“And I will not marry anyone because papers were signed over my head before I was old enough to object. Not Mr. Collins. Not Lord Ashcombe. No one except the man I have already chosen.”
Mrs. Bennet immediately began protesting that she had not spent twenty years raising a girl to be spoken to in such a manner, while Mr. Collins declared obedience the first duty of a wife and Lydia demanded once again to know whether anyone intended to address the matter of her dress.
