Page 80 of Sweet on Mr Darcy

“Does anyone else have a claim to lay against Lady Barry?” Dr Klein asked as Reverend Stanley resumed his seat. No one volunteered to speak. “In that case, I think it is time to hear from those in the room who are obviously here to defend her. Sir Dudley, you are the magistrate here. Have you observed signs of madness in Lady Barry? What light can you shed to explain her behaviour in the matter of young Mr Stanley?”

The magistrate stood and began to speak. “Lady Barry moved permanently to Ramsgate perhaps ten years ago, though her family owned Nethercourt House for generations and visited often when she was a younger woman, or so I am told. I understand that her previous home, since the death of her husband, was in Hertfordshire, where she was raised, and there she presumably became acquainted with the family Bennet, and the young woman in question.”

Mr Bennet nodded in agreement, and Sir Dudley continued. “Since she arrived, she has not been reclusive, precisely, but she does keep to herself. She has always attended church, and even since her disapproval of Reverend Stanley, she has continued to pay the man’s living, and maintain the rectory for his family. She could let the place fall to pieces and force Stanley to live off his tithes. It is true that she does not often take callers, but she is–forgive me, Lady Barry, I beg you–ageing in years. She has never been a person who tolerates nonsense or mischief, and it is not inconceivable that an older widow might prefer to retire quietly and entertain little.”

“And what of the matter with Stanley’s son?” Dr Klein probed.

“I was not the magistrate then,” Sir Dudley said. “I took it on only three years ago, after the death of the previous man. If it had been in my hands, I would have had young Stanley arrested and sent up to Sandwich for trial. A tenant of Lord Arlington’s found John Stanley attempting to force himself on the farmer’s young daughter. There was a fight, and John Stanley was beaten and marched to the door of the magistrate. The magistrate at the time was old-fashioned. He believed Stanley when he claimed that the family was only attempting to force a wedding to hide the girl’s complicity in what her father saw. He blamed the girl, a mere child, for seducing John Stanley, and then Reverend Stanley belaboured the matter in church, until the entire village, even the other farmers and their families on Arlington’s estate, drove the family to abandon their tenancy and leave Ramsgate. Lady Barry was not the only one to be disgusted and change where she worshipped. My family did the same, and I hope I do not appear mad to anyone here. If Lady Barry wrote to the bishop, it was her duty as Stanley’s patroness, and no more. I would have done the same if I were in her position, and if I may say so, being a man, I likely would have been given more heed. John Stanley was a vicious boy, and he grew up to be known as an even more vicious man. Perhaps the lower orders, the other tenants, might have been easily persuaded by their minister to turn against the tenant family, but the genteel residents of Ramsgate found John Stanley distasteful enough that he could never earn a living here as a solicitor, and was obliged to settle and practice farther away. I certainly would never have given him a living.”

“How appalling.” Lord Matlock appeared outraged. “The young man ought to have been hanged, or at the very least imprisoned.”

“I beg your pardon!” Stanley stood up and objected.

“Address my father again, and you will indeed find yourself begging. Now sit down,” Viscount Fitzwilliam advised.

“And you are absolutely certain that there is nothing irregular, or at the very least, unladylike, about Lady Barry’s behaviour?” Dr Sturt probed.

“Of course not.” Sir Dudley insisted. “My wife and I visited Lady Barry, along with Lady Arlington, the very day that Sir Rupert arrived in Ramsgate. Do you think we associate with madwomen, sir?”

“She only invited you and your wife in a malicious campaign to have my sister and me excluded from society here in Ramsgate,” Sir Rupert spoke up. “Do not lie and say it is not true.”

“I will do no such thing as lie.” Sir Dudley was affronted. “It is my understanding that you came here for purely mercenary reasons…to protect whatever you consider to be your inheritance. It is well known in London–and Derbyshire, I understand–that you were a cruel husband who drove your first young wife to a very early grave, from misery and a broken heart. You arrived wielding intimidation, and you immediately began asking questions publicly about Miss Bennet’s person, her family, her dowry, her habits, and even where she walks to obtain her morning exercise. I have to admit, I was concerned for the young lady’s welfare myself. It would not be difficult to believe you might attempt to force a marriage against the young lady’s will to protect your interests. Then, when society here did our best to block your attempt to access Miss Bennet, you began asking questions about other visiting heiresses, including Lord Matlock’s own niece. It is obvious that you have the potential to be a dangerous man when your interests are threatened or even when you are presented with an opportune moment. No one in our local society wishes to receive you, and only a few of the tourists are willing to sacrifice a daughter and a dowry for a connection to your title.”

“Hear, hear!” Colonel Fitzwilliam said rather loudly. “I am not a local, but my sister and cousins are visiting Ramsgate with my uncle, and I am grateful to the locals for protecting the young women in Ramsgate.”

“Well, perhaps we should proceed with our decision.” Dr Sturt ignored Colonel Fitzwilliam.

“I beg your pardon, but not everyone who wishes to speak for Lady Barry has been invited to do so,” Lord Matlock interrupted.

“By all means, speak your piece, Lord Matlock,” Dr Klein invited.

It is obvious that Dr Sturt has been offered a great sum of money to make this come about. Elizabeth thought. Dr Klein seems to have more care for the person he is examining.

“I have known Lady Barry since I was a boy growing up in Derbyshire,” Lord Matlock said. “Her daughter Isobel was my younger sister Anne’s playmate, and my brother Darcy–Anne’s husband–and I have probably known her as long as anyone living. It is untrue that she has always been cold and reclusive. Even as a younger woman, she was stern and tolerated no mischief. She has never had much use for men or boys, but with her daughter and my sister, and–so I understand–Miss Bennet, she was always warm and supportive. I believe she has also been kind to my daughter, Lady Priscilla, and my two nieces, even Miss Anne de Bourgh, whose mother–my elder sister Lady Catherine–she never liked. She is also warm and welcoming to my nephew Darcy here for his late mother’s sake, and she is tolerant of my sons, which I take as a great compliment. Lady Barry is only carefully selective about who she allows close to her, and that is no crime, nor is it a sign of madness.”

He took a breath and continued. “I have not seen her in some years, but my brother Darcy has been in her company this summer, and he would have told me if she was going senile with age. I have no reason to believe that she will not outlive us all with her mind in perfect clarity. I have no idea what she has done with her will, but I say she has every right to dispose of her fortune as she wishes. In fact, I will use all of my influence to ensure her freedom to do so. This Barry twit merely wants more than he is entitled to. It is entirely true that he barely knows her, and knew her husband not at all. He is nothing more than an heir presumptive of Sir Charles Barry. A distant cousin that no one knew, nor ever cared about. I grew up in and out of their estate, and he was never once a visitor there. He has no claim upon her, nor upon her fortune. The man is desperate, and grasping at anything that might help him, but Lady Barry’s friends are higher placed than his, and in a better position to ensure her welfare.”

Sir Rupert glared at Lord Matlock as Dr Sturt deliberated. “I will now question the young lady. Miss Bennet, from where does this close connection to Lady Barry come?”

Elizabeth coloured as Lady Barry patted her hand. “The gossips visiting Ramsgate have made too much of it, sir, which mortifies me on Lady Barry’s behalf. I have the greatest respect and affection for her, but that is all. She lived in Hertfordshire when I was a girl, at a neighbouring estate called Netherfield Park. She was amused then by my defiance of my mother, who disapproved of my father allowing me to read and educate myself. I believe it was to tweak my mother’s nose that she used to invite me even as a girl from the nursery to read to her. She is the sort of person who dislikes seeing girls and ladies hindered by society. When she moved away, I was ten, and she would write to me occasionally. As I grew up, I wrote back. We exchange letters a few times a year. When I came to Ramsgate with my family for the summer, it gave me great pleasure to visit her twice a week. We do not sit and plot over her will or her fortune, I assure you. We are merely ladies drinking tea and enjoying an hour or two of novels each week. Miss Darcy visits her as well, in the stead of her late mother. Society makes up sensational tales, Dr Sturt, as you must well know. There is no reason to suppose there is anything behind it.”

“And Lady Barry? Can you confirm whether there is merit to the claims of society? Have you favoured Miss Bennet in your will?” Dr Sturt inquired, turning his attention to the object of their discussion.

“You have no right to ask who I shall favour in my will, you vile man.” Lady Barry thumped her cane. “I will not humour you. I will only say that I have not altered my will since I arrived in Ramsgate ten years ago. There is no reason for Rupert to suppose that he would benefit from declaring my most recent will invalid, in any case, for he has never been mentioned as a beneficiary in any will of mine, no matter when it was written. Not in mine, and certainly not in my husband’s. Sir Charles did not leave him so much as a pocketwatch.”

“Bloody hell!” Sir Rupert bellowed. “I will see you rot in Bedlam if it is the last thing I do, old woman!”

“I believe we have heard more than enough.” Dr Klein stood as Colonel Fitzwilliam and the Viscount seized Sir Rupert and dragged him from the house. “My colleague and I have obviously been misled. We beg your pardon, Lady Barry. We will show ourselves out.”

“Oh, thank heavens!” Elizabeth jumped up and embraced Lady Barry impulsively. “I was so frightened!”

“All is well, Lizzy-girl, all is well.” Lady Barry chuckled as she patted Elizabeth upon the shoulder. “Perhaps calling for your father and the men was for the best, little though I like to admit it. Reggie-boy, you certainly selected an opportune moment to turn up. I recall that you did so often as a boy. Always entered a room the moment a plate of biscuits or cake appeared.”

“Anything to hear you call me Reggie-boy again, Lady Barry.” Lord Matlock bowed and kissed the old woman upon the cheek. “It is my privilege to be of service to you.”

Elizabeth dried her eyes and hurried to Darcy to express her relief.

“You raised a fine girl, and if I must admit it, a pair of fine boys too,” Lady Barry said approvingly. “I assume that is due to the efforts of a fine wife.”