With that, Darcy turned once more, leading Elizabeth towards the stairs, his grip on her hand firm as they ascended to their quarters.
As soon as they entered their rooms, Darcy pulled Elizabeth into his arms, his expression a mix of concern and relief. "Forgiveme, dearest. I ordered that she was not to be admitted, but I am not surprised she still managed to bully her way in. Are you well?" His voice was low and urgent, as he searched her face for any signs of distress.
Elizabeth pulled back slightly, their eyes locking as she steadied herself in his embrace. "I am well, my dear Fitzwilliam," she reassured him, her brow furrowing slightly. "The only thing that troubles me is her claim that she would ruin Georgiana. It does not concern me what society matrons may say about me, but I would hate to see Georgiana's reputation tarnished before she has a chance to show the world what a lovely young woman she is."
Darcy sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping as he pressed a gentle kiss to the top of Elizabeth's head, resting his cheek there for a moment. "I do not believe she will succeed," he said, his voice muffled against her hair. "Richard will quietly let it be known that Lady Catherine is… unreliable. As I told her, it has been years since she has shown her face in London. Those she calls friends have either died or have not spoken to her for so long that they cannot know what she has become. Because of her claims that I was engaged to Anne, I have been forced to avoid corresponding with my cousin, but Richard does. He will assist Anne in claiming her inheritance, especially if Lady Catherine continues to be recalcitrant. Now that I am married, I can also do more to assist her. When we travel to London next month, we will make inquiries about how matters are at Rosings."
"So the colonel will lay the groundwork for Lady Catherine to be disbelieved and perhaps even declared mad if she follows through on any of her threats?" Elizabeth asked, raising an eyebrow as she considered the implications. Her lips curled intoa wry smile. "It is sad, I suppose, but I cannot find it in myself to feel sorry for her. Not when she has done this to herself."
Darcy nodded in agreement, a flicker of anger still simmering in his eyes as he held her close, drawing strength from her presence. "She has caused lasting harm to all of us. It was because of her that we were separated for all these years, and it is because of her that Georgiana was almost stolen from us. Just as you cannot forgive your father for his part in our separation, I find I cannot forgive Lady Catherine, nor do I think we have heard the last from her."
Chapter Sixteen
SATURDAY, 26 OCTOBER 1811
LONDON
To say that Lord Matlock was upset was a gross understatement. His estate of Matlock was deeply in debt, which he blamed on the reckless habits of his eldest son, Lord Andrew Fitzwilliam, Viscount Ashburn. A gambler and rake, Ashburn's latest ill-advised endeavour threatened to push the family into complete financial ruin. The situation had become so dire that the Ashburn townhouse had already been sold, and now even the estate of Matlock teetered on the brink. Though entailed, certain pieces of the estate might still be sold off under particular conditions, but to do so would reveal far too much about the family's precarious financial standing. The sale of Matlock House, however, was something Lord Matlock considered only as a last resort. It would be a public humiliation, and the scandal would ripple through their social circles, damaging the family's standing for generations.
As if his son’s irresponsible behaviour was not enough, Darcy, his only nephew and the hope for securing the family’s future, had gone and eloped with some country chit, a young woman with no dowry or family connections worth mentioning. The announcement of the marriage posted in the Times had felt like a slap in the face and derailed his own carefully laid plans for Darcy. He had always known his nephew would never marry his cousin Anne de Bourgh, despite his sister Catherine’s stubborninsistence on the match. But the earl had other, more ambitious designs for Darcy’s marriage.
In Lord Matlock’s mind, Darcy’s wealth, combined with a politically advantageous marriage, could have bolstered not only Darcy’s standing but also his own. He had even identified a suitable young lady from a family with both wealth and power, one whose father held significant influence in Parliament. Marrying her would have been a perfect arrangement—one that could have led to a title for Darcy. That, in turn, would have increased the overall wealth and status of the Fitzwilliam family, providing the resources Lord Matlock needed to dig himself out of the debt his son had amassed. But now, all those hopes had been dashed by Darcy’s impetuous decision to marry instead of making the alliance that would have secured the family’s future.
That his nephew had thrown that future away to wed a penniless country girl was nothing short of betrayal. Of course he knew of that ill-fated engagement four years ago and had said nothing about Catherine’s plan to separate the pair. Therefore, it came as quite a shock to learn the two had reunited and that Darcy was sufficiently tempted by the chit to run away with her to Scotland.
Fury mixed with desperation as Lord Matlock considered his options. His nephew’s marriage could not be undone, but perhaps there were still ways to salvage something from this debacle. Yet, the anger simmering just beneath the surface was impossible to ignore. Darcy had not just disrupted his own future—he had jeopardised the stability and standing of the entire family. That it was not Darcy’s responsibility to salvage the mess created by his uncle and cousin was of no concern to Lord Matlock.
He read the letter from his second son once more, noting Richard's report that he had not found Darcy in Gretna Green.Richard had been in Newcastle, delivering dispatches from his general to the colonel of the local militia, and was supposed to return to London after that. By now, he should be back, the earl thought, and he promptly sent a note to the army barracks requesting Richard’s presence when he was free. He needed to hear more of what Richard had learned in Scotland, to see if anything had been omitted from his letter.
As soon as the letter was written, he called for a servant to deliver it immediately. Too unsettled to sit, he began to pace the length of his study, his mind racing for possible solutions. While it was unlikely he could undo the marriage, perhaps he could still use Darcy’s influence to his advantage. If he could convince his nephew to lend financial support or use his connections to secure more favourable opportunities, they might avoid total ruin. The real issue, though, was Darcy's stubborn independence. His nephew had always been difficult to control, annoyingly honest, and with this new wife by his side, the chances of him aligning with Matlock's plans seemed even slimmer.
His fists tightened at the thought of his family's impending ruin, his son’s reckless behaviour, and Darcy’s defiance. If Darcy could not be persuaded, perhaps other avenues could be explored—Georgiana’s future was still in play, and Catherine, though insufferable, could be manipulated if need be. Time, however, was running out, and if he did not act quickly, the family's debts and the mounting scandal would swallow them whole.
His thoughts circled back to Richard. The letter had been unusually vague. Though Lord Matlock trusted his son, there was a nagging feeling that Richard knew more than he was letting on. Still, he dismissed the suspicion quickly—Richardwas loyal and had always acted in the family’s best interests. Yet, the earl could not entirely shake the sense that his son was holding something back.
Seating himself at his desk, the earl reached for pen and paper. He would need to tread carefully, but a letter to Darcy was his first step. Flattery, appeals to familial duty, and perhaps a subtle reminder of the scandal his sister could stir up about Georgiana’s past—there were ways to make Darcy see reason. He had to, for the sake of the family. As Lord Matlock began to write, his expression grew more determined.
Nearly as soon as he finished writing his letter, sealing it and setting it aside to be sent with the next post, his sister stormed into the room, fury blazing in her eyes.
“Our nephew is a fool, Silas!” she spat, not bothering with pleasantries.
“I am aware,” Lord Matlock replied drily, barely looking up from the pen still in his hand. “Other than his elopement, what else has he done to ignite your ire?”
Lady Catherine’s hands clenched into fists at her sides, her face flushed with indignation. “He treated me as though I were some common interloper! He refused to recognise my authority at Pemberley, allowed that insolent chit to mock me, and he had the audacity to threaten to sever our familial ties! He said he no longer recognises me as family!” Her voice shook with outrage as she paced the length of the room, her skirts swishing sharply with each turn.
Lord Matlock sighed heavily, rubbing a hand over his face before shaking his head in disbelief. "Cathy, you have lost all sense. You cannot possibly believe Darcy would respond favourably tosuch bluster, especially when you threaten his sister, which I am certain you could not resist doing. That boy would burn London to the ground before he allowed harm to come to Georgiana. Now you have gone and antagonised him even further." He leant back in his chair, studying her with a mixture of disappointment and frustration. "You cannot bully him as you do with those sycophants you employ; he requires careful handling."
“Rosings ought to have been mine!” Lady Catherine shot back, her eyes narrowing with determination. She leaned over his desk, her voice a low hiss. “You must ensure Anne is not allowed to take it from me. I will not be forced into that wretched dower house… or worse.”
Lord Matlock’s expression hardened, his patience thinning. “Rosings belongs to Anne, whether you like it or not. The only reason you have held onto it this long is because she has allowed you to. But mark my words, if you continue down this path, you will lose everything.”
“Perhaps not,” she said with a glint in her eye, straightening and folding her arms.
Lord Matlock’s grip tightened on the arm of his chair, his knuckles blanching white. “You stupid, reckless woman. What have you done?”
Lady Catherine’s lips curled into a smile, but there was no warmth in it—only malice. Her eyes gleamed with satisfaction. “Nothing too drastic. I merely sent Wickham a letter, inviting him to Rosings—and, preferably, with the young lady in question in tow. I did, of course, tell him not to kill her. But if she were harmed in the taking… well, that would not concern me overly much.”
Lord Matlock’s face flushed with anger as he surged from his chair. “I have warned you time and again that you place far too much trust in George Wickham. Not only do Darcy and Richard know him well, but he is also impulsive, unreliable, and greedy. That is why your attempt with Georgiana failed—Wickham was not content to merely make it appear that she had been compromised; he thought he could actually elope with her and get away with it! The same will happen now. He will bungle this, and Darcy will catch him before he gets anywhere near Elizabeth. Especially after your disastrous visit to Pemberley. Darcy will take every precaution to protect his wife.”
