| Colonel Fitzwilliam Lends a Hand Section V |
| Part IX Anne had calmed considerably during the half-day's carriage ride over fifty miles of good road, and now began to wonder at her mother's sudden fatal illness. Of course, she would never actually voice these opinions, but if she had she would have found a willing listener in at least one of her cousins. Darcy had been contemplating the thought of Lady Catherine's possible duplicity since the arrival of the letter, and the closer they got to Rosings, the more suspicious he grew. Georgiana, of course, still could not think so poorly of anyone, and had not the least thought of anything being otherwise than what was said in the letter. At last they pulled into the lane that separated Rosings Park from Hunsford Parsonage, and within a few minutes were greeted at the door by a somewhat haggard looking Charlotte Collins. "Mr. Darcy! Miss DeBourgh! I am so glad you are arrived. Lady Catherine has been asking for you since dawn! Come in, please." None of them had expected to be greeted by Mrs. Collins, and suspicion now grew to concern; either Lady Catherine was going to extreme measures to dupe them, or something was truly amiss. The crisp sounds of a military step alerted them to the presence of Colonel Fitzwilliam in the next room, and the serious look on his face when he met them in the hall did not bode well. "Darcy, Anne, Georgiana, at last. Thank you Mrs. Collins, I will take them in." Charlotte nodded wearily and left for the drawing room. They walked slowly and in silence for a few moments until Fitzwilliam spoke again. "Anne, perhaps you and Georgiana should go in first. She has been asking for you constantly." Anne nodded apprehensively and entered her mother's room, leaving her cousins to talk in the hallway. "Fitzwilliam, what is going on here? Is Aunt Catherine truly on her deathbed?" Fitzwilliam sighed. "When I arrived an hour ago, I found Mr. Collins sitting in the drawing room, completely speechless. Mrs. Collins was bustling about trying to keep the household from falling apart, and the doctor was with Aunt Catherine. He left not too long ago." He paused. "To be perfectly honest, Darce, I thought it was a ruse to get you away from Miss Bennet and get Anne home; I offered to ride ahead to see what I could discover before you arrived. However, it seems that I have overestimated Lady Catherine's wiles: she really is dying." Feelings of guilt flooded through Darcy as he recalled his own suspicions. "I confess, I doubted the truth of it as well. What ails her?" "It seems she has been suffering from a sort of consumption for months, perhaps even years; the doctor says it is impossible to know when it began. He has been treating her since January, but it appears she has come to the end of her rope. The stress of Anne's departure must have taken its toll." Darcy closed his eyes as if the very motion caused him pain, and slowly ran a hand through his hair. "So it is my fault," he said softly. "Your fault? Don't be ridiculous man!" "I am the one who suggested that Anne leave! I am the one who turned Lady Catherine out of Netherfield! Who else would you blame?" he replied angrily. Fitzwilliam laid a calming hand on Darcy's shoulder. "No one is to blame. She is very ill; Dr. Webb says that he was surprised she had lasted this long, and it was only a matter of time before something gave out. It is her time, you must not blame yourself." Darcy made no reply, but merely paced back and forth in the hall until the door of Lady Catherine's room opened and Georgiana's head poked out. "Fitzwilliam, my dear brother, she is asking for you." With a deep breath, Darcy stepped into the room. He was totally unprepared for the sight he saw. Lady Catherine had always been a healthy-looking woman, not what one would call full-figured, but stout nonetheless, and her facial features were always sharp and shrewish; this was what Darcy thought he would see, perhaps just looking a bit piqued. What he found was a woman who had aged ten years in two weeks. She was pale, the skin drawn tightly over her face, accentuating its, for lack of a better word, pointiness. She was thin and haggard, and looked decidedly defeated. Even the coldest heart would have pitied her. As we all know Darcy to have a decidedly warm and compassionate heart, it nearly broke for pity. This pity was to be short-lived. "Darcy? Is that you?" "Yes Aunt, I am here." She squinted up at him. "Well� I am glad you have come to your senses and returned here with Anne. When I am gone she will need to be looked after. I know I can count on you to treat her well. Of course, you must observe an appropriate period of mourning before the wedding; I am excessively attentive to all those things you know. I think six months shall be enough. You have my permission to live at Pemberley, for I know you are excessively fond of it, but I do hope you will not neglect Rosings, and still use it once or twice a year. I had hoped to see my grandchildren before I left this world, but I will die in comfort knowing that my Anne is the mistress of Pemberley." Darcy nearly choked at her words. "I am sorry Aunt, I do not understand you. Of what are you talking?" "Why, of you and Anne of course. You are to be married." It was becoming difficult for Darcy to control his temper now, but he used all his power to keep his countenance. "Aunt, we are not to be married." Lady Catherine's eyes flared with anger. "WHAT? You will deny the last wish of your dying aunt? Is this to be borne? It shall not be! You and Anne WILL marry! How dare you neglect you duty!" Darcy rose. "My duty is to act in a way that will constitute my own happiness! Anne does not wish to be my wife, and I do not wish to be her husband. I promise that I will care for her after your passing, but I will not marry her!" he replied forcefully. Lady Catherine's eyes narrowed into tiny slits. "You are to leave my presence at once Fitzwilliam Darcy. I disown you as my nephew, and disinherit your line from mine. Your descendents shall never inherit Rosings Park! Now what have you to say?" "These are heavy misfortunes indeed. But I have Pemberley, and you do not have the power to remove me from there, Lady Catherine." "GET OUT!! OUT!! I never wish to see you again! Out of my sight and out of my home at once!" Lady Catherine screamed. Darcy bowed, straining to hide his anger. "Goodbye Aunt Catherine. I wish you peace." With that, he turned on his heels and marched out of the room, leaving a furious Lady Catherine still screaming curses on his name. Once outside the door, Darcy leaned heavily against the wall, exhausted from the effort of withholding his emotions. He had hoped that Lady Catherine would have softened at least somewhat on her deathbed, but apparently she was determined to remain hard-hearted to the end. Georgiana and Anne timidly approached him; he shook his head and merely gestured at them to return to Lady Catherine's bedside before he walked somberly to the library for a large helping of brandy. Colonel Fitzwilliam awaited him. "Well Darce? What did Aunt Cat have to say? I don't suppose she gave you her blessing to wed?" he asked facetiously. Darcy gave him a withering glare. "Oh, she gave me her blessing� it was just for the wrong wedding. She continued to insist that I marry Anne! Can you believe the woman? Even on her deathbed she cannot be contradicted!" Fitzwilliam gave a sad little laugh. "Yes, that is Lady Catherine. Steadfast until her dying breath. I must ask though� why did you not just lie to appease her? She will not be around to force you to marry Anne." Darcy looked at his cousin as if he had just said the most absurd thing ever put to words by mankind. "I am a man of my word Fitzwilliam. If I had told Lady Catherine that I would marry Anne, then I would marry Anne. There would be no other choice; disguise of any sort is my abhorrence, and lying to appease her or protect myself is out of the question!" Fitzwilliam could not help but admire his cousin's honesty, but still wished that it didn't go quite so far; a little white lie would have spared him of Lady Catherine's outburst. Darcy drained his glass of brandy and was about to fill another when a bloodcurdling scream was heard from the direction of Lady Catherine's room. The two men looked at each other, then ran for the door. When they arrived, they found Anne lying across her mother's still form, wailing and sobbing. Georgiana sat in the chair next to the bed, quietly weeping into her hands. She turned when she heard the door open, and ran into her brother's arms. "Oh Fitzwilliam� Lady Catherine� she� she� she is dead!" * * * * * * * * * * * * Rosings Park 2 July My dearest Elizabeth, Lady Catherine DeBourgh died this afternoon shortly after our arrival in Kent. She had been suffering from a consumption for some time now, unbeknownst to anyone but herself and her physician. She is to be buried in three days. I regret that I will be unable to return to you for some time; I fear that estate business will keep me in Kent and London for at least a fortnight, and perhaps longer still. I long to see you, my love. Please tell me that you miss me as much as I miss you, and that you long to see me as well. All my love, Fitzwilliam Darcy Tears welled in Elizabeth's eyes as she read Darcy's letter two days later. The wedding would have to be postponed, that was clear; as guilty as she felt for putting her selfish desires ahead of the death of Lady Catherine, she could not help thinking that it was almost as if the woman had planned to die at just the right time to interrupt their plans! She sighed, then went to speak to her father about paying a visit to the Gardiners in London in the hopes of being in town when he was. * * * * * * * * * * Two weeks later... Colonel Fitzwilliam entered Darcy's study hesitantly. Ever since he had returned from the solicitor the day before, he had shut himself up in the room and not come out. Anne had chosen to stay at Rosings, with Georgiana staying to help care for her. Darcy and Fitzwilliam had come to town to resolve the final business of Lady Catherine's will, of which a new draft had been written just two days prior to her death. The solicitor had warned Darcy that a few "peculiar" provisions had been put in, and had requested a meeting. The look of absolute fury on Darcy's face as he returned to his townhouse warned Fitzwilliam not to ask until he was told; after nearly two days, though, he felt that something had to be done. Thus, he found himself entering the small room, which was dark due to the curtains being drawn. The only light came from a single candle that was almost out on the desk. Not one, but two empty decanters of brandy sat in front of Darcy, and the man himself sat in a most ungentlemanly fashion swirling a half-empty snifter. His jacket, vest, and cravat were tossed carelessly on a nearby chair, leaving only his shirt and breeches. His hair was a mess of curls, and his face was red and swollen as if he had been crying, or at least drinking very heavily. Fitzwilliam suspected both. "Darcy," he said softly, "are you ill?" Darcy snorted. "One could call it that, I suppose," he slurred. "My soul is ill� my heart is ill� it will not be long until my body is ill to follow, I'm sure." "Would you care to tell me what is going on here?" "Quite simple cousin. I have been sitting in this room for nearly two days without food or sleep, staring into space and drinking far too much brandy. I would have thought it was obvious!" he laughed bitterly. Fitzwilliam approached and took the seat next to him as he drained the last glass of brandy. "And why would you do that?" "Because I am about to lose all that is most dear to me, and the very thought of it makes me want to die in this chair right now." As he buried his head in his hands, the glass fell to the ground and shattered. Darcy's shoulders began to shake as he wept; Fitzwilliam could only look on helplessly. "Have I not suffered enough, my God? What have I done to deserve so much in pain? I finally had all that I desired, and now it is to be ripped away from me?" "Darcy, of what are you talking? Has Elizabeth broken the engagement?" "No� but I must." "WHAT? That is ridiculous man, why would you ever do that? You love that woman more than life itself!" Darcy stood with an angry glare on his face. "You think I don't know that? She is my world! I cannot bear to think of my life without her! But I don't have a choice. I cannot leave Anne to the fate that will befall her if I ignore Lady Catherine's will." Dejected, he threw himself back into the chair. "Fitz, you shall have to be more specific if you wish for my counsel. What is in Lady Catherine's will?" "It says that Anne will be unable to inherit Rosings Park unless she is married to me. Her independent fortune that we had so counted on is apparently tied in with the assets of Rosings, and if the land and house go to another, the fortune goes with it. If I do not marry her, she will be poor." "But Darcy, surely the rest of the family would take her in! She is not alone in the world!" "Lady Catherine saw to all that. In the event that Anne has not married me by her 27th year, she must immediately report to Mrs. Dionysius O'Gall of Bitternutt Lodge, Connaught, Ireland, to whom she has been promised as governess to her children." Fitzwilliam's eyes widened in shock. "Anne, a governess in Ireland? That is too cruel! Surely Lady Catherine would not force her own daughter into such a life!" Again, a bitter laugh escaped Darcy's lips. "Of course not Fitzwilliam� because she knew that I would marry her if given such a choice." Fitzwilliam shook his head in disbelief. "May I see this document? I must read it for myself." Darcy gestured towards a pile of papers on the desk. After a few minutes of perusal, he found the correct section. " 'To inherit Rosings Park, Anne must marry no further outside her bloodline than first cousin on the Fitzwilliam side. If she has not done so by her 27th birthday, she is to report�' This is outrageous! How can she�" Fitzwilliam was silenced as a thought suddenly occurred to him. "Darcy, you will not marry Anne." "Don't be ridiculous Fitzwilliam. I cannot allow her to be a governess!" "Of course not. But I also cannot allow you to lose the greatest love you could ever hope to find! No Darcy, you will not marry Anne� I will." "What?" Darcy replied, a look of utter confusion covering his features. "I don't understand you Richard." "Perhaps it would make more sense if you had not consumed so much brandy, Fitz. Look, the will does not say 'Anne must marry Fitzwilliam Darcy.' It only says 'first cousin on the Fitzwilliam side.' As you may recall, I also qualify for that position. I am unattached and in need of a wife with fortune. Anne and I are friends; we would be comfortable and I am sure would have an amiable existence. You shall marry Elizabeth and live happily ever after. See how simple it can be?" Darcy's eyes shone with gratitude and hope. "You would do that for me Richard? Truly?" "Of course Darcy! It is only practical. I could do no less." Darcy pulled his cousin into a strong embrace, weeping, this time with joy. "You are a Godsend my dear cousin. This is the second time you have come to my rescue! How shall I ever repay your kindness?" Fitzwilliam humbly shook off the compliments. "Come, come, man, you are too much in your cups I think. I shall be gaining from this as well, you know. I am not the saint you make me out to be." Darcy would not be swayed, though, and continued to shower his cousin with compliments for as long as he could. "Yes, yes, I perfectly comprehend your feelings Darcy. Now come on, go make yourself presentable so that we may talk to the solicitor and get this matter settled. Then I suppose I should return to Rosings and propose to the bride!" With one last grateful handshake, Darcy left for his bath, leaving Colonel Fitzwilliam to wonder what his life would be like as the husband of Anne DeBourgh. PART X Anne accepted the terms of her mother's will with equanimity; she still blamed her mother's death on her previous attempt at independence, and resolved that at least in death Lady Catherine would be obeyed. She was relieved that she would not be stealing Darcy away from Elizabeth, though, and it didn't hurt that Colonel Fitzwilliam was handsome and amiable. They had always been good friends, so if she was forced into a marriage, it might as well be with him. A special license was obtained, and the ceremony was quietly performed at the chapel of Rosings. Only Darcy, Georgiana, and Fitzwilliam's parents were in attendance. The day following the ceremony, the couple left for a brief honeymoon in Bath so Anne could take the waters. Fitzwilliam spent much of the carriage ride looking back and forth between the landscape and his new bride. The wedding night had been terribly awkward, but not wholly unpleasant for either party. Still, she had asked him to go to his own chamber to sleep, and he had been relieved to do so. They still felt too much like family, and not enough like husband and wife, to go beyond obligation just yet. As he looked at her, he wondered whether he could ever come to love Anne as he had hoped he would love his wife. A wave of sadness hit him as he thought of the difference of Darcy's situation; he and Elizabeth were the perfect example of what true, deep love should be. It was consoling to think that he had again helped his cousin to happiness, but this time the cost had been greater. At least Anne was wealthy, and they got along well; the rest could come later. Anne's thoughts were slightly different. Since they had consummated the marriage, she had been experiencing such emotions as she had never had before. She had only asked her husband to leave because she felt that he wished it, for she would have been content to lie in his arms the night through. She knew that he did not love her; she could not truthfully say that she loved him yet either; but her heart had been touched, and the first stirrings of true affection were beginning to grow. It pained her to think that her husband might never feel the same way. Thus continued her thoughts until exhaustion overtook her and she slept. "Anne� Anne, my dear. We have arrived," Colonel Fitzwilliam whispered as he gently shook his sleeping wife. She murmured before opening her eyes to the sight of his warm blue eyes and bright smile. Her heart melted. "Hello sleeping beauty. Are you rested? Come, let's get out of this carriage!" She smiled back at him and accepted his assistance out of the box. He shouted out orders for the footmen to take their trunks to their respective rooms, then offered his arm to Anne. "Shall we?" She nodded and they entered their home. * * * * * * * * * * * * Darcy returned to Hertfordshire the day after Fitzwilliam's wedding. He was still racked with guilt, and only seeing Elizabeth would confirm for his heart that he had done the right thing. He rode hard for fifty miles, making the trip in almost half the time. He stopped first at Netherfield to bathe and change out of his dusty travel clothes so he was fit to be seen, then again rode hard to Longbourn. His intuition told him that Elizabeth was more likely to be outside than not, and decided to first search for her in the garden. To his disappointment, Jane and Bingley were the only ones there. "Mr. Darcy!" she cried out in surprise. "We did not expect you, sir. Has your business been resolved? How fares poor Anne?" "Good day Miss Bennet, Bingley. Yes, my business is done; Anne is as well as could be expected under the circumstances. I will explain in greater detail later. Right now I must see Elizabeth. Do you know where I may find her?" "She will be so happy to see you! I believe you will find her there," Jane replied, pointing towards a prettyish sort of wilderness away from the house. Darcy bowed and went off in search of his lady. Several minutes later, he came across Elizabeth's bonnet sitting on a tree stump near a brook. In it was a handful of hairpins, and on the ground next to it a pair of shoes and stockings. Realizing that his first sight of her in nearly a month would be barefoot with her hair down, he nearly ran down to the water in anticipation. The vision did not disappoint: Elizabeth stood in the middle of the stream, holding her skirts up above her ankles, curls flowing down her shoulders, humming softly and giggling when a small fish would swim by and tickle her. Darcy drank in every detail of her beauty, not yet wishing to make his presence known. Suddenly, a devilish grin appeared on his face as he had a most mischievous idea. He dashed downstream and crossed a little footbridge out of Elizabeth's line of vision. Hiding behind a tree, he removed his coat and boots, then snuck out to surprise Elizabeth from behind. She was still oblivious to his presence, and it was not until he wrapped his arms around her waist that she realized that she was not alone; she shrieked in alarm. "Elizabeth, my love, it is I," Darcy whispered reassuringly, burying his face in her neck and showering it with kisses. She immediately stopped struggling and whirled around to face him, dropping her skirt into the water to put her arms in the more favorable position around his neck. "Fitzwilliam! I have missed you so! Oh, thank you Lord, for bringing him back to me!" she cried out before pressing her lips firmly against his. He pulled her body close to his, as if to blend them into one. Each moment proved to him that he had made the right decision; there was no way he could live without this woman in his arms. He broke away from her mouth and began kissing her face and neck, eliciting passionate responses in Elizabeth that drove him further. When his knees began to weaken, he picked her up and carried her to the grass, gently laying her down and wasting no time in resuming his attentions. All thoughts of propriety and modesty were completely out of mind; they wanted only the consolation of each other's arms after so long an absence. "Elizabeth� we must marry soon� I cannot be without you another day. When can it be done?" Darcy asked between breathless kisses. "We were originally to be married next Saturday darling� it can still be done if you wish it," she replied in kind. "I wish it were today! But next Saturday will have to do. Yes, let it be then, I will not wait a moment longer!" Thus resolved, he again devoted his full attention to the kisses and caresses that were driving himself and Elizabeth quite distracted. It was not until they heard the sound of twigs cracking underfoot and Jane's voice calling them that they broke away from each other. Quickly standing up, Elizabeth hurriedly brushed off as much grass as possible from her skirt, praying that her back would not show evidence that she had been lying in it. Darcy jumped across the stream to retrieve his coat and boots, while Elizabeth met Jane on the path. "There you are Lizzy! I had begun to worry, you have been gone so long! Did Mr. Darcy find you?" Elizabeth blushed a deep crimson. "Yes, he did. We were wading in the stream together. He has just gone to get his boots." Jane smiled to herself, knowing perfectly well that wading had not been the only activity taking place at the stream. "Come on then Lizzy, let me help you arrange your hair. Strange, however did you manage to get grass in it?" she asked innocently, drawing another blush from Elizabeth. She did not wait for a reply but replaced the pins as well as she could. Darcy appeared behind them, having crossed the same bridge as before. When Elizabeth was slightly more presentable, the three of them rejoined Bingley in the garden, then went into the house to get a full report of what had occurred since they were last together. Next section... |