Chapter 42

Lady Matlock and Elizabeth had spent several hours together on Monday, sewing more garments for Andrew Burris. The Countess had originally intended to call upon Helen the next day. However, when she arrived at breakfast on Tuesday, she appeared pale and indicated that she had arisen with a headache.

The Alsworths were expected that afternoon, in advance of the one month anniversary of Andrew Fitzwilliam's death. A service in his memory was to take place at Claresfont's chapel the next day. As a result, Lady Matlock had decided to cancel her visit to the Burris home, in order to rest for her company.

Since the Alsworths were expected to stay at Claresfont at least until the weekend, it was likely that the visit to Helen would need to wait until the following week. Elizabeth suspected that the Countess would be disappointed by the long delay. As a result, she offered to make the trip in her place.

"Thank you, my dear," Lady Matlock said. "I do wish for her to have the extra things now, so Mr. Burris need not spend all of his waking hours worrying about washing the boy's clothes and diapers. Do you really wish to go?"

"It would be my pleasure, my lady," Elizabeth assured her. "When were you planning to leave?"

"In the late morning, I suppose. But you need only wait for Mrs. Woods to finish preparing her baskets. I imagine that both Helen and Mr. Burris are already going about their day."

When she was done with her meal, Elizabeth decided to go to her chambers, in order to change into a warmer dress, one more suitable for traveling. As she was walking up the stairs, she heard Mary calling up to her. She stopped and waited for her sister to reach her.

"Lizzy, do you wish for some company?" Mary asked. "I would like to see the baby. And perhaps we can walk back afterward, if it is not too cold?"

"I would welcome your company, Mary," Elizabeth replied. "And a walk is a most excellent suggestion. The Burris house is one of the closer tenant houses. We can likely walk back from there in much less than an hour."

~.~

As their carriage came to a stop at the Burris house less than an hour later, Mr. Burris quickly appeared. He was clearly surprised to see only the two young women. Elizabeth introduced her sister to him: she made a point of mentioning her own name as well. She was not fully certain that he would recall it from the previous week, given the state of his nerves on the day that his son was born.

"Lady Matlock is unfortunately indisposed," she said. "As she was eager for Mrs. Burris to have these things, Mary and I volunteered to visit in her stead."

"Yes. Of course. Thank you," Mr. Burris said. "Helen will be happy to see you, I'm sure. Please come this way."

Elizabeth and Mary followed the man into his home, trailed by young Mr. Nadley, who was carrying the baskets sent by Mrs. Woods. They found Helen Burris in the parlor, holding her baby on her lap. Her husband introduced the Bennets to her, then left the room, in order to show the footman to the kitchen.

"Lady Matlock sends her regrets, Mrs. Burris," Elizabeth explained. "She woke up with a pain in her head and did not feel up to leaving the house."

Helen nodded. "Her ladyship sometimes suffers from headaches when she is aggrieved. Looking at light during those times causes her even more pain. T'is her sadness over Lord Matlock, I imagine. How fast the month has gone."

"Yes," Elizabeth replied.

The three women sat quietly for a moment, until the baby began to make noise.

"Oh, have we disturbed him?" Mary asked.

"No, I don't think so, miss. He seems happy to me today. And he has been fed just before you came."

"He is a very handsome boy," Elizabeth said.

Helen smiled at her little son. "I daresay, Miss Elizabeth, that he looks a sight better than when you last saw him. I'm sorry that I didn't have a chance to thank you for your kind help that day. May I do so now?"

Elizabeth laughed. "You had far more important things to do right then, Mrs. Burris. I was glad to be of some small use. And I am pleased to be able to report to Lady Matlock that motherhood agrees with you."

"I think it does. I had not expected any more to find a husband, but I'm very glad that I did."

"How long were you in the Matlock household?" Mary asked.

"For ten years. For the last seven, I was her ladyship's maid. Had I not met Mr. Burris, I would have been quite content to remain with her."

"Mr. Burris seems like a very kind man," Elizabeth observed.

"Yes, he is. You have not seen him as himself, though. He is still so worried about Andrew and me that I fear he comes across very awkward."

"Lady Matlock told us of his prior loss. I am sure that a caring man could not help but be afraid of such a thing happening again."

"Yes. It was something terrible," Helen said softly. "They'd already been married five years before she was got with child. But the babe arrived too soon and she was alone and could not go for help. Martin blamed himself for that. In fact, he'd come to Nottinghamshire hoping to escape the memories. He now raises sheep at Claresfont, for their wool. He'd business with Lord Andrew now and then. And that is how he met me."

"Sheep seem to play an important role in this family," Mary murmured.

Elizabeth turned to her sister and gave her a pointed look. However, Helen herself began to laugh.

"I see you have been told about Lady Felicia," she said. "She is a very sweet woman, although I've never dared tell my husband about her pets. The one time I accompanied the Countess to her estate, I stayed either above or below stairs all the time I could, so as not to stare at the things."

The three of them laughed at that. Then the younger ladies spent some time admiring little Andrew, while Helen looked through the basket of clothes that Elizabeth had given to her. After she had expressed her thanks for the sewing work, they spoke for a few minutes longer and then the sisters left her to her day.

Once outside again, Elizabeth informed their driver and footman that she and Mary would return to the manor house on foot. The driver helpfully pointed out a narrow lane which mostly ran in the same direction as the road, but where the dust would not be as great. Thanking him for his suggestion, they made their way to the path.

The day was a cool one but the sun was shining and there was no wind. Elizabeth suddenly realized how much she missed her frequent rambles in the fields around Longbourn. She gave way to an immediate impulse and grabbed her sister by her hand.

"Come, let us run, Mary. All the way back to the house!" Elizabeth laughed when she saw the look on her sister's face. She tugged her along for several yards, until Mary managed to pull away from her grip.

"Lizzy, you know that I am not much of a runner. Actually, I am not much of walker. I am not a runner at all!"

For a few minutes, Elizabeth continued to skip along, turning periodically to urge Mary on. Finally, she took pity on her and came to a stop, removing her bonnet as she waited for her sister to catch up with her.

"Do not fear, Mary," she said. "I shall not leave you collapsed in a hedgerow, starving for air!" She laughed when Mary rolled her eyes at the familiar reference. Looking around, Elizabeth spotted a fallen log, just then captured by a patch of sunlight. "Shall we take the sun for a time, while you catch your breath?"

The two sisters arranged themselves on their perch and as the sun warmed them, even Mary was inclined to remove her bonnet. They then spent several minutes reminding one another of some of the sillier moments which had occurred in the past, when all of the Bennet sisters were out walking together. They had just finished chuckling over a memory of Kitty flying down the road - after stepping on an errant piece of a vine which she assumed to be a poisonous snake - when Mary suddenly asked Elizabeth about her sudden trip to Pemberley, on the Friday past.

"For you see, Lizzy, the reason that Colonel Fitzwilliam gave to us made little sense. And when I had an opportunity to quiz him about it when we were quite alone, he told me that I must ask you. It caused an uncomfortable feeling, for while I believe him to be a highly honorable individual, I also believe that he was lying about this."

Unsure of how to reply, Elizabeth stared off into the distance, until Mary began speaking again.

"Of course, if this is something personal, Lizzy, which you are reluctant to make public, I understand," she said softly. "I do not think that I would be convinced to break such a confidence by another person, but I do understand that you might have such a concern."

Elizabeth immediately felt terrible. Her relationship with - and indeed, her entire impression of - her next youngest sister had changed radically over the past two months. She still marveled over the fact that a relation whom she had largely ignored in recent years, albeit benignly, or so she hoped, was the one who had risen to her defense when the unpleasantness had began. This will not do, she thought to herself.

"Mary, my lack of a response has nothing to do with trust," she began. "Indeed, I trust you implicitly. It has all to do with my own inability, to explain what took place in a way which will not grieve you."

"Grieve me. Lizzy, you cannot not mean that Mr. Darcy behaved dishonorably towards you! Dear God, I would never have thought him capable of such a thing!"

"Nor should you now," Elizabeth replied with a small smile. "Mr. Darcy is the best of men. He has done nothing to harm me, in any way. I accompanied him to Pemberley on Friday on a mission of mercy, after he did me the honor of consulting my opinion on the matter."

"What do you mean?"

"Last Thursday evening, a man came to the house to speak to William. His name is Lord Everson. He is Lord Harwood's heir."

In response to her sister's gasp, Elizabeth nodded, her expression now grim. "Yes, that Lord Harwood. However, William assures me that this son is as different from the rest of his family as night is from day. Lord Everson came to ask William to take in a servant, one who had been grievously hurt at his father's estate."

"How strange. Why would he need to bring her elsewhere?"

"Because the servant, who was a girl not much older than Lydia, had been hurt by Lord Harwood himself."

"He beat her?"

Elizabeth sighed. She took her sister by the hand again. "Mary, one of my difficulties is that this involves a subject which gentlewomen, in particular unmarried gentlewomen, do not normally discuss. In fact, I am not even certain of my full understanding of the matter. But I will tell you, if you so desire."

When Mary nodded, she continued.

"She had been beaten but that was far from the worst of it. Lord Harwood had ... marital relations with her, against her will." Elizabeth looked away and her voice grew lower but it did not falter. "He raped her. So did his son, Layton and George Wickham, who apparently has taken up residence with them, as well as a servant. They took other liberties with her and were likely to continue to do so. So you see, she was in great danger if she remained there."

When her sister said nothing, Elizabeth turned to look at her again. Mary was staring at the ground, her face drained of color. Elizabeth moved closer to her and put her arm around her.

"At least you may acquit the Colonel of acting a part: he could not easily speak to you of such a thing."

"Will the girl recover?" Mary asked softly.

"William had the family's physician called in to care for her. He was encouraged by . . . by certain things but could not say for sure. Mrs. Reynolds, who is William's housekeeper, will likely send word of her condition to us soon."

"I hope that Lord Harwood and his ilk will not discover where she is hiding," Mary said.

"They have been told that she has died."

The implications of that hung in the air for several seconds, until the two young women decided to resume their walk. They turned their attentions to a happier topic, the expected visit of the Gardiners and Charlotte Lucas.

Chapter 43

As Elizabeth and Mary were making their way back to the manor, Darcy was in the Claresfont library, reading through the three pieces of correspondence which had arrived for him that day. The first letter that he opened was from Jerome Reitling:

25 October 1811

Dear Mr. Darcy,

As you directed, Mr. Durham and I have interviewed both Lady Rutledge and Lady Penelope about the matter in question.

Durham feels that Lady Penelope in particular would prove invaluable, if things progress to their ultimate conclusion. Her enthusiasm and directness cannot fail to impress even the most skeptical audience. Indeed, she has even taken it upon herself to obtain even more direct knowledge .....

Despite the situation, Darcy had to laugh about the obvious fact that Penelope Rutledge had thoroughly captivated two of the most unlikely members of the London legal establishment. He put the letter aside and then turned to the other, from Mrs. Reynolds:

28 October 1811

Dear Sir,

As you requested, I am writing to update you on the condition of our guest.

Mr. Hobson has been to see her each day. He is now confident that she will not succumb to an infection from her ordeal, for he says that signs of it would have appeared by now. He has, however, advised that she continue to be given laudanum several times a day, since she is still having pains. It is also necessary for her to take it before he examines her.

We rouse her a few times each day - Tessa Leston is helping me, since she is completely trustworthy. The girl takes some nourishment and we help her with her ablutions. Her spirits, such as I can tell, are not good. Whilst I believe that she trusts the two of us, she is fearful if she hears anyone else, even if the noise is outside of the house. I suppose none of this is surprising.

She has asked me once what is to become of her. I replied as vaguely as I could, for I do not know what plans have been made.....

Like Mrs. Reynolds, he was also unsure of what would be done for Letty Sares, once she recovered. He assumed that Lord Everson was giving some thought to the matter. By coincidence, the third letter in the group was from that very gentleman and Darcy could not think of another reason for him to have written. However, as it turned out, he was mistaken.

28 October 1811

Rosemont, Derbyshire

Mr. Darcy,

I suspect that you may well wish to never again have contact with anyone from Rosemont; for that I cannot blame you. However, a curious piece of information came my way yesterday and after some thought, I decided to make you aware of it.

On Saturday past, my mother received word that her sister, Lady Granville, had suffered a sudden decline in her health, which had already been poor. At the urging of Lord Granville, my mother departed for their estate in Sussex early yesterday.

Lord Harwood accompanied her and given that the duration of their stay in the south is uncertain, he instructed me to handle the correspondence which arrived for him during his absence, as I saw fit. Not long after they left, a letter was delivered here from his nephew, Mr. Barrington. I would not normally have bothered with it, as I deemed it a personal letter, except for the fact that it arrived by express. As a result, I opened it to determine whether he was writing of a matter which required a timely response.

To my surprise, I learned that he had recently been visited by a Mr. Ruskin, a representative of the Archbishop, who informed him that a report had been made to their offices, one which concern his behavior towards you and Miss Bennet in Hertfordshire. The man had been tasked with reviewing the particulars and based upon his investigation, had determined that Mr. Barrington had acted in a way which reflected extremely poorly on both himself, and on the Church. The inference of their meeting was that he may have effectively ended his chances for future significant advancement.

My reason for writing to you on this matter is thus: whilst I will not bore you by quoting his vitriolic (and quite tedious) prose, he is laying responsibility for this turn of events at your feet. His conclusion is based upon upon his belief that this Mr. Ruskin is a relation of a close friend of your family, the Duchess of Alsworth. In his letter, he entreats Lord Harwood to assist him in reversing these events, although how that is to be done, he does not mention. He also swears his intention to avenge your 'outrageous interference.'

I intend to make no mention of the letter to anyone else, having dislodged its seal in such a way, that it could be affixed again with no one the wiser, one of many tricks shown to me as a youngster by my very indulgent maternal grandfather. Feel free to do with this information as you see fit.

Yours etc.,

James, Lord Everson

Darcy folded the letters and slipped them into his coat pocket. Then he stood up and walked over to one of the room's windows. As he stared outside, without looking at anything in particular, he considered Everson's message. He had not given much thought as to whether Barrington would learn about the Alsworths' involvement in his fall from grace. The Duke had not hesitated to take this action, given that Preston Barrington had sparked the fire which had brought about Andrew Fitzwilliam's death. However, out of prudence, he would mention the matter to the Duke that evening.

A few moments later, his attention was caught by the sight of two young women approaching the house. Even at a distance, he could tell that they were laughing with each other. He watched them as they drew closer, admiring the color which the fall air had given to Elizabeth's face. He surprised himself by briefly contemplating a subject of a decidedly intimate nature, then abandoned his musings and went to meet the sisters as they entered the house.

~.~

When they walked into the entrance hall, Elizabeth informed Mr. Woods of the good health of both his niece and her son. Then they greeted Darcy, as he appeared at the bottom of the stairs.

"Had you a pleasant walk?" he asked.

"Indeed!" Elizabeth assured him, smiling. "Although I confess that I was starting to feel a bit chilled. Her ladyship did not exaggerate when she insisted that winter comes much earlier here."

"You two should have something warm to drink. You have also received a letter from the Gardiners. Shall we adjourn to the small parlor, so we can learn of their plans?"

After asking the butler to arrange for tea, Darcy escorted the two ladies upstairs. When they were seated, Elizabeth opened her letter and quickly scanned it.

"They hope to arrive about two and one half weeks before the expected wedding date, subject to the Matlocks' approval and the availability of your spare coach," she said.

"There will not be a problem, on either point," Darcy noted.

"Does she say anything else about mama wishing to send Jane to London?" Mary asked.

"No, she does not," Elizabeth replied.

"Mr. Darcy, are you certain that the children will not be too much of an imposition on Lady Matlock?" Mary asked. "They are very good youngsters but they will still make an occasional commotion."

"I believe that my aunt is looking forward to their visit," Darcy said. "She has already given orders for the nursery to be cleaned, and for toys stored in the attic to be brought back down."

Elizabeth, who had continued reading her aunt's letter, suddenly interrupted them with her laughter.

"Her ladyship may wish to reconsider," she said. "Aunt Gardiner also asks that I let her know in my reply whether or not Claresfont has a moat."

Mary frowned. "A moat? Would that not be rather uncommon? Surely she is not concerned that they will be unsafe here from marauding Scots!"

"No. Our cousins wish to practice defending a castle keep." Elizabeth looked up. "Harry has been regaling the twins as of late with stories of Saxons and Normans."

"And ever more head chopping," Darcy added. "I remember. Edward will have to come up with a suitable but safe, militaristic activity for them."

"Parade formations." The response came from across the room, as Colonel Fitzwilliam entered it. "Practiced long enough, they cause even the most unruly recruit to have a sound night's sleep. If that does not hold their interest, we can construct a catapult."

"Do not let your mother hear that word coming from you," Darcy advised his cousin, with an uncharacteristic smirk gracing on his face. "I doubt she has forgotten the last one that you built."

"It worked quite well!" Edward insisted.

"Yes. Until Cook had her missing potatoes returned through the kitchen window!"

Edward looked affronted. "That was Malcolm's doing! I was employing mud balls. One should never waste the best ammunition on practice runs!"

"Were no turnips available for your use?" Mary asked. "Or are their shapes too irregular for use as missiles?"

The Colonel turned to the last speaker and was silently relieved to see a small smile on her face.

"They were not in season when this took place. But you are quite correct. Their roots makes their trajectory less certain."

Elizabeth stood up at that point and announced that since Mary and Edward had the defense of the estate well in hand, she was going upstairs to rest, before dressing for dinner. Darcy immediately offered to escort her; the two of them left their relations behind in the parlor. As they walked up the stairs, Darcy asked if he could have a word with her, in her sitting room.

"Do you wish to warn me to keep my cousins away from the kitchens?" she asked, as the two of them took a seat on the sofa.

"No. Just away from unsupervised escapades with Edward, unless you wish for them to become known to Bow Street at such a tender age!"

They both laughed. Then Darcy told her of two of the letters that he had received that day, choosing not to mention the one from his attorney.

Elizabeth reacted much as Darcy had to the two messages. After they briefly discussed Mrs. Reynold's report on Letty Sares' condition, they turned to Lord Everson's communication.

"Did you expect that he would learn of His Grace's role in this?" she asked.

"No, not in particular, since the connection is actually through the Duchess. I very much doubt that her cousin was indiscreet in that regard. I do not know how he discovered it."

"And so we are once again a potential target of Preston Barrington's vengeance," Elizabeth said softly.

"Only in his vile dreams, Elizabeth."

"Will you tell His Grace about this during his stay?"

"Yes, I feel that I should. I intend to do so tonight. However, there is another matter that I wished to speak with you about, since Mrs. Reynolds also asked me about this in her letter."

Elizabeth looked at him expectantly.

"We are to be married in a little more than four weeks."

"Yes?"

"Mrs. Reynolds asked if we intended to return to Pemberley after the ceremony, or if we were to remain at Claresfont or had some other plans. My aunt asked me much the same thing, a few days ago. She reminded me that even though the celebration must be a small one, there will still be a number of guests at the house. Her thought was that if we wished to stay at Claresfont, she would have the Dowager's House on the property refurbished, at least to the degree possible, given that it has not been used in decades."

Elizabeth thought about the weddings with which she was familiar. The married couple often spent their first night together at the house of one of their parents or in the odd case, at an inn on the way to their new home. None of them, however, belonged to the first circle of Society or owned great estates.

"Do you have a preference, sir?" she asked.

Darcy smiled at her. "I do, but I would like to know yours."

Under any circumstances, Elizabeth realized that she would desire privacy for both her wedding night and the days which immediately would follow. Given the irregular nature of their courtship, she desired it even more, whatever might happen that night. Well-meaning relations and well-intended strangers could not provide the seamless privacy that devoted and well-trained servants would. Moreover the appeal....

"Elizabeth?"

She told him simply the last thought on her mind.

"I would like to spend my wedding night at my new home. My only reservation is..."

Darcy knew what she was about to say. "If a suitable solution to that situation can be found, you would wish to return to Pemberley?"

She nodded at him, suddenly feeling quite shy. Thus she was surprised, when in the next moment, that her betrothed suddenly took hold of her hand. He said nothing at all, before lifting it up and gently grazing it with his lips. Then he rose to his feet and told her that he would see her at dinner.

It was some time later before Elizabeth realized that she was still staring at the door through which he had exited.

Chapter 44

The Duke and Duchess of Alsworth had arrived at Claresfont in the late afternoon. When the company assembled for dinner that evening, the Bennet sisters both appeared in dresses which they hoped were more suitable for the family's state of mourning. Mary wore a dark brown gown which, somewhat to her surprise, complimented her coloring rather nicely. She had borrowed the dress from Georgiana, who had insisted that it made no sense for her to dye any of her own clothes, given that she was not related to the Matlocks.

Elizabeth had decided upon a simple dark violet gown provided by the Groton seamstresses. She wore no jewelry, although Sally had used some unusually shaped silver pins with which to fashion and restrain her hair. Upon entering the drawing room, she drew the eyes of the four men already in it, a circumstance that went unnoticed by her, as she went to pay her respects to the Alsworths. It did not go unnoticed by one man in the room but his interest was philosophical, rather than physical.

It had already occurred to Edward Fitzwilliam that Elizabeth Bennet was a beautiful woman, although he wondered if she herself even realized it. Having met her eldest sister, a woman whose looks were more consistent with the contemporary ideal of beauty, the Colonel imagined that Elizabeth did not considered herself as equally blessed. And having met the girls' mother, he suspected that the three of the middle sisters suffered from frequent comparison to the eldest and the youngest Bennet daughters, although the mother's logic, in particular in the case of her last child, quite eluded him.

Alsworth had also discreetly examined the young woman but having known the Duke for his entire lifetime, Edward knew that his actions were not in the least prurient. He was simply a man who appreciated beautiful women, having married one himself. And Victoria Averton never appeared in the least troubled by her husband's distant admiration of other females. It also seemed to him that at that moment, Her Grace herself had also inspected Elizabeth. She had appeared to be pleased, although whether by the suitability of the young woman's looks or by her respectful consideration of the current sad circumstances, he was not certain. Perhaps it was both.

He took the most amusement from his brother's attempt to conceal what was an obvious desire to look at Miss Bennet. He knew that his brother was not a bad sort. But Malcolm had always had an expectation that the three of them - Darcy included - were destined for wives who had a king's ransom to offer, especially in the newly made Earl's own case. The undeniable appeal of the virtually penniless gentlewoman was likely highly confusing to Malcolm. Edward wondered if he might learn a lesson from it. He rather doubted that but perhaps this would be an occasion upon which he was surprised.

However, he was not in the least surprised to see the warm look of approbation that had appeared on his cousin's face, when his betrothed walked into the drawing room. Darcy had immediately stood and then joined her and Mary as they approached the Alsworths. The interaction between the two of them had become increasingly familiar in recent days, although the Colonel would not have, even in his wildest imagination, expected that their recent mission of mercy to have so positively impacted their relationship.

Like his mother, who had broached the topic with him, he thought that Darcy and Elizabeth would do quite well together, despite their unorthodox beginnings. While he suspected that they had shared similar opinions - and abilities - on many matters, their personalities were decidedly different. Some couples experienced such diversity without it leading to divisiveness: he believed that would be the case with his cousin and his wife.

When contemplating Darcy's marital future, Colonel Fitzwilliam could not help but think upon his own. It had not been a topic which had preoccupied him often in the past but between the upcoming nuptials and his father's death, he had found himself dwelling upon it on more than one night, as he sought to fall asleep.

He desired a wife who would be competent in ways beyond the household arts and who would not hesitate to share her opinions with him, on matters of importance. But unlike his cousin, he did not require a wife who would constantly challenge him to change. In truth, he sought a wife whose personality was more similar to his own. As a military officer, a certain consistency was necessary. He hoped to find a wife who would understand and appreciate that.

As Edward watched the two young ladies accept glasses of wine from a servant, he hoped that he had already found such a wife. He once again gave thanks for the long dead great-grandmother, who had enabled her unknown descendant with an unexpected measure of independence. Now he only needed to determine whether or not Mary Bennet felt the same way.

~.~

When dinner was over, Lady Matlock suggested a brief separation of the sexes: they had not made a habit of doing that during the past few weeks, but her nephew had indicated that he had some matters to discuss with the Duke and his cousins.

While the men removed themselves to Lord Matlock's study, the women made their way to the drawing room, where the servants served coffee to them as well as a light sherry. The Duchess first asked after Mrs. Annesley, who, after accompanying Georgiana to Nottinghamshire, had left to visit her son's family not long after the funeral.

"I had a letter from her just last week, Ma'am," Georgiana said. "She professed to greatly miss me but I suspect that seeing her granddaughter, who has just started walking, is a more than adequate diversion! However, she did not forget to remind me of the books which she anticipates we shall discuss once we return to Pemberley."

"Miss Mary is helping you with that, is she not?" Lady Matlock asked.

"Yes. We are reading two books together. We each read a chapter of one book and then exchange them."

"I am sure that is very helpful," the Countess said, smiling at Mary.

"Georgiana is much wider read than I am," Mary said softly.

"But you read much faster than I do, Mary!" her friend insisted.

"Well, I assume that you are each benefiting, in your own way," Lady Matlock said. "Elizabeth, I understand that you received a letter from your aunt today. Have they decided upon an arrival date?"

"Yes, my lady. My aunt Gardiner and her children and my friend, Charlotte Lucas, plan to arrive on the 12th or 13th of November, if of course, that is acceptable to you."

"Certainly, my dear. And your uncle?"

"My uncle will not be able to arrive until 25th or 26th, because of his business."

Elizabeth was not one to be ashamed of the Gardiners, but as she sat speaking with a Duchess and a Countess of her relations, she was suddenly ashamed of her own hesitancy.

"My uncle has two very successful warehouses," she added, decidedly more forthrightly. "Whilst he trusts his senior employees, like any business man, he is reluctant to be away for very long. His personal relationship with his customers is critical to his success."

"That is wise of your uncle. More than one land owner has found himself in desperate straits by relegating all of his responsibilities to a steward, even a competent one," Lady Matlock said.

"Indeed," the Duchess agreed. "What type of business does your uncle have?"

"He is a wholesaler of fabrics, of many types, Ma'am. He also has a second business, importing good from the the Orient."

"How old are your cousins, Miss Bennet?"

"Our eldest, Harry is ten years. His sister, Jane, is seven and the twins, George and Anna, will soon be five years."

"Twins! Your poor aunt!" the Duchess exclaimed. "When I was growing up, a family at a neighboring estate had identical twin girls, a few years younger than me. You may recall them, Susan, although they were older than you. The Tuxfords."

"Of course!" Lady Matlock replied. "Cornelia and Cordelia. They rarely spoke to me but I recall sometimes seeing them in church, dressed the same way."

"Goodness, did they need such similar names to confuse them as well?" Georgiana asked.

"They were peculiar girls, as I recall," the Duchess said. "They often spoke a language of their own making and wanted little to do with others."

Elizabeth smiled. "George and Anna do use words which only they understand, but they are very sweet children."

"It likely did not help that even the adult Tuxfords were themselves somewhat odd!" the Duchess declared. "I am not sure if even the grownups understood one another.

Everyone else laughed at that observation and the ladies' conversation continued.

~.~

For their part, the men had first raised their glasses to the memory of Andrew Fitzwilliam. After the servant in attendance had refilled their drinks, Malcolm asked him to leave them, since he knew that his cousin wished to speak to them in private.

Darcy wasted no time in informing both Malcolm and the Duke of what had transpired at Rosemont and Pemberley during the recent past. At one moment, the Colonel began to rise to his feet to come to the assistance of his older brother, who had turned an unnatural shade of white. Lord Matlock waved him off but accepted yet another glass of brandy when Edward offered it to him.

Darcy then spoke of his family's older history with Harwood, telling the story of Anna Tate, his own father and the Marquess. Finally, he imparted the more positive news concerning Preston Barrington's reversal of ecclesiastical fortune, crediting the Duke of Alsworth for his influence in that regard. Both Fitzwilliams expressed their gratitude to His Grace.

After they unabashedly toasted Barrington's recent woes, Darcy asked his cousins to allow him a few minutes alone with the Duke of Alsworth. After they left, he handed the Duke the letter which he had received from Lord Everson.

"I had not expected to involve you in this publicly, Sir," Darcy said.

"I am not concerned about that, William. In truth, I am more concerned about what to do about these miscreants. They must not only answer for Andrew's death. The Lord alone only knows how many girls they have hurt, perhaps even killed. This cannot continue."

Darcy nodded, a grim look on his face. "I fear, Sir, that any solution will not be one that can be sanctioned by either the Law or the Church."

Alsworth shrugged. "The will of the Divine is not always easy to follow. This man, Lord Everson. I know almost nothing of him. Is he to be trusted?"

"I cannot imagine that he is otherwise, given what he has exposed to me. If you are asking if he would lift his hand against his father, I can not say. On the other hand, his actions may well indicate that he yearns for someone else to do so."

"It may be that we must involve him."

"Yes, but I will do nothing until after Elizabeth and I am wed."

"Of course. Your family's security must be paramount to you. You will marry in four weeks, will you not?"

Darcy nodded. Then it occurred to him to ask the Duke's opinion on the matter of Letty Sares.

"I wish to take my bride home after our wedding. We both want to help the girl as best we can, but her presence there will cast a sadness over my wife, which will spoil that homecoming. She is also occupying my housekeeper's attentions, who based upon her last letter to me, is becoming somewhat frantic over her neglect of the preparations for the arrival of her new mistress. I do not wish to sound petty but . . "

The Duke interrupted him. "Son, you have already been very generous. I suggest that you speak to Lord Everson about this as soon as possible but at the same time, I will ask Victoria for her thoughts. I imagine that between she and Susan, a place for the girl can be found somewhere in Surrey, at one of their relations. I am certain that she will feel safer at a great distance from..."

"Yes. I believe that would be the case."

~.~

The remembrance service for Andrew Fitzwilliam, which took place on the next day, was bittersweet. Lady Matlock had elected to use the house's chapel for its privacy; she was touched by the number of servants and house staff who had attended, with the permission of Mr. and Mrs. Woods. They would all have worked especially hard to assure that their duties would not have been neglected.

Even Mr. Burris was there. No tenants had been invited but he had come on his wife's account, who was not yet permitted to leave her house.

His presence turned out to be a boon for Darcy, who knew that the man had occasional business at Rosemont. Without asking any questions, Burris agreed to promptly call at that estate, in order to speak to Miss Franks, on the excuse of checking with her about her satisfaction with his mutton. At the same time, he would pass a note to the cook to be given to Lord Everson.

As a result, Lord Everson called at Claresfont, on Saturday afternoon. Neither of the Fitzwilliam brothers were at home but he briefly paid his respects to Lady Matlock and the Duchess of Alsworth, before sequestering himself with the Duke and Darcy. After hearing an update on the Rosemont girl's health, he agreed to the plan suggested by His Grace, that she be transported to the Surrey estate of the Duchess's sister, a widow who lived quietly with her son and his wife and who was willing to take the girl into her home.

Darcy had decided to send Tessa Leston to accompany Letty, given that she was at ease with the woman and that Mrs. Reynolds, with whom he had already consulted, felt that would be for the best. He also had arranged for Dr. Hobson to travel with them. Lord Everson immediately insisted that he be responsible for the financial arrangements and after some discussion, Darcy acquiesced.

Once that business was concluded, Marlon Averton asked that he be allowed to speak with Lord Everson alone. While Darcy was surprised by the request, he guessed at his purpose. The night before, over several glasses of port, Darcy had told the older man about his discussion with Dr. Hobson, not long after the physician had examined his patient at Pemberley. To that point, he had told no one else the complete details of what he had learned, despite it having made him physically ill after Hobson had left him. (Note)

The Duke seemed to have sensed that something continued to weigh on the younger man's mind and eventually, he had gotten the full story from him. Darcy suspected that Alsworth had decided to take Everson's measure, in the face of the sins which those closest to him had perpetrated. A quarter of an hour later, the two men reappeared, at which point Lord Everson shook hands with each of them and then departed. When the Duke did not offer the result of their conversation, Darcy decided not to inquire.

~.~

As Lord Everson arrived at Rosemont in the late afternoon, the butler informed him that a guest had arrived during his absence. He did not bother to hide the scowl from his face, when he learned that it was Preston Barrington. As he walked up the stairs to his chambers, he idly wonder how it was that the man spent so much time away from his duties at Mertons. Hopefully, his visit would be a short one: at any rate, the Earl intended to avoid him and the rest of his family until the dinner hour.

Barrington was already in fine form when Everson appeared in the drawing room for pre-dinner refreshments. He quickly determined that his cousin had traveled to Rosemont because he had failed to receive a reply from Lord Harwood, in response to his recent letter.

"No doubt Layton has already informed you that Lord and Lady Harwood are now in Sussex, at the Granville estate, and have been for a week."

"But did he not receive my express?" Barrington demanded. "I sent it on Saturday last."

"A letter did arrive from you, but after they departed. I handle any business correspondence that is received in the Marquess' absence. I do not read his personal mail. Nor did he request that it be sent on to to him."

"But this was a matter of grave importance to me!"

At that moment, the party was called into the dining room, where Barrington continued his rant.

"I have determined that my current difficulties with the Archbishop were caused by that bast.." A long look from his cousin caused Barrington to slightly amend his tone, in consideration of the women at the table. "I was already convinced that it was Fitzwilliam Darcy, who was behind this. But I did not know how he could have accomplished it. But now I know he was assisted by the Duke of Alsworth. I am certain of it!"

"And what did you propose that the Marquess do about this?" Lord Everson asked.

"Why, speak to Alsworth! He could talk some sense into the man, make him see that he has been misled!"

The assistant cook standing at the serving table cleared her throat at that moment and Lord Everson motioned for the soup course to be served. While the servants were doing so, he asked after George Wickham.

"Where is our resident sponge, Layton?" he asked. "Feeling off his feed?"

"George is visiting friends in Yorkshire," Lord Layton muttered.

As soon as the servants left the room, Barrington again began to talk of approaching the Duke of Alsworth. Lord Everson began to wonder for the first time if his cousin was genuinely deranged. However, before he could offer him another acerbic reply, his niece Felicity spoke up.

"Perhaps you could make an unexpected appearance at Mr. Darcy's wedding," she said. "It is to be at Claresfont. I would expect the Alsworths to be in attendance."

Barrington looked at her in confusion. "Darcy is to be wed? To whom?"

"Have you not heard, cousin?" Adelaide Walcott replied, laughing. "He has been caught by that Hertfordshire strumpet. He is marrying Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn, in less than four weeks time!"

"We have had it from the sewing girls at Groton's," Felicity added.

"And where, pray tell, did you hear that Miss Bennet is a strumpet, as you call her?" Lord Everson asked.

"Oh, it is common knowledge in Meryton," Felicity said.

"Your daughters associated with men there with knowledge of such matters?" Lord Everson asked, staring pointedly at his brother and sister.

"No! Of course, they did not!" Lady Layton protested. "Who told you this, Adelaide?"

"Why, it was Miss Caroline Bingley, mother. She kept house for her brother Charles Bingley, at an estate near Meryton, called Netherfield. Mr. Darcy was their guest and she could not help but be privy to the goings-on there. She spoke to both of us of this, both in Meryton and London."

"Forgive me for my skepticism, Adelaide," Lord Everson said. "Fitzwilliam Darcy is thought to be the wealthiest landowner in Derbyshire. He is notorious for his abstemious behavior, not for licentiousness. The notion of his being trapped by anyone is, frankly, rather ludicrous."

"But that is what she said!" Felicity insisted.

"Have a care, girls. Slandering a wealthy man may not be in your best interest."

While Lord Everson was lecturing his nieces, they were all ignoring Preston Barrington. Thus, when their cousin stood up and tersely indicated that he was returning to his room, they were startled not only by his announcement but by the blotched and mottled look on his face. Were he a much older man, they might have thought him on the verge of apoplexy.

Chapter 45 Friday, 8th November: Claresfont

Elizabeth was astonished by how quickly time was passing for her. The week since the late Lord Matlock's memorial had been consumed, or so it seemed, by endless sessions with Mrs. Groton's staff: hours had been spent with pattern books and fabric samples, and the exhortations of her sister-to-be that a Pemberley winter required more warmer clothing than she thought logical. A boot-maker had also been summoned. Elizabeth could not say if he had left the house with orders for two or ten or twenty new pair of footwear.

And then there was the matter of her wedding dress. She did not think that a more lovely gown could have been created, even had the family not been in mourning. A lavender undertone to the gray fabric effectively concealed its matte finish. The bodice of the dress also contained a surprising embellishment of unusual seed pearls, also in a gray color. When she expressed some reserve about the decorations, the Countess herself had told her that the pearls could easily be removed in the future - or not - whatever her desire.

And her family and friend were to arrive in five or so days!

All of this activity should have left her exhausted but she found herself filled instead with a restless energy. However, that evening, the household had mostly abandoned her, Mary, Georgiana and Lady Matlock having all retired to their chambers not long after dinner. William had disappeared as well. Unwilling, however, to wait for some degree of tiredness to overtake her in her bed, she decided to go downstairs to the library. She had previously found a folio there of drawings of the natural fauna and flora of Derbyshire and thought to bring it back to her chambers for her to study it.

Recalling that it would likely be quite cool, she put on her warmest robe and left the room. When she reached the first floor, she encountered the footman, Nadley, who was on duty that evening. She explained her mission, then upon retrieving the drawings, wished him a good night as she walked back upstairs.

She had been back in her chambers for only a few minutes when she heard a light knock at the door to her sitting room. When she opened it, she was surprised to see Darcy standing before her.

"Elizabeth, I hope that I did not wake you. I had a few matters to attend to after dinner. I did not think that they had taken me that long but when I was done, no one was to be found. Then Nadley told me that he had just seen you leave the library, so I thought that you would still be awake."

"No, I was quite awake, sir. Our companions all deserted us, retiring early."

Elizabeth gestured to the folio of drawings that she had placed on the sofa and smiled.

"I thought that I would use the time to become somewhat better acquainted with Derbyshire," she said.

"I had asked one of the kitchen girls to prepare some mulled wine for me, just a few minutes ago. She has likely already sent it up to my chambers. Do you wish to share it with me? I can bring it to your sitting room. As it is, I have some news that I wanted to tell you."

Elizabeth agreed and within a few minutes, Darcy had returned with the drink. As he entered the room, he glanced at the door to Mary's chamber.

"Is your sister asleep" he asked.

"She may be," Elizabeth admitted. "Perhaps it would be better if we spoke in my room?" she suggested, without thinking about what she had said.

Darcy nodded, then he waited for Elizabeth to open the adjoining door for him, since he was still carrying the tray. He set it down on the small table in front of the bedchamber's sofa, then poured them each a glass of the warmed wine.

"Have you had mulled wine before?" he asked.

"Once, perhaps, at some Christmas holiday gathering. My mother did not care for it, you see, so she did not have it made at home."

"It is quite fortifying on a cold night."

Elizabeth took a sip of the drink. "It is also quite delicious. I do not recall it being made with fruit as well as spices."

"I imagine that cooks have their own recipes for something like this," Darcy suggested.

Or not enough funds to use hothouse oranges in drinks! Elizabeth thought to herself. After a few more sips of the wine, she asked him what he had wanted to speak with her about.

"Good news, I believe. When the Alsworths were here, I took the liberty of explaining to His Grace our need to find a more permanent home for Letty. He has done both her and us a very kind service. She will move this weekend to Surrey, to the household of Her Grace's sister. She lives in a very comfortable Dowager's house on the estate of her son."

"Has this been discussed with Letty?"

"Yes. I believe that she is relieved by the distance from Rosemont. And to make matters easier, a servant from Pemberley, one whom she trusts, will go with her, for as long as she needs her. Dr. Hobson will travel with them as well."

"Must they know all that happened to her?" Elizabeth asked quietly.

Darcy hesitated. "Perhaps it was wrong of me, but I saw no need for her to be so deeply shamed, when she did nothing wrong. I asked the Alsworths to only say that she was imposed upon by a member of the gentry but suffered harm while fighting the man off. Since Hobson said no child was likely to result..." His voice trailed off.

"Mrs. Reynolds told me as much."

"I hope that I was not too officious. But I felt a clean start was the best thing for her."

"Oh, William, you were not officious at all," Elizabeth replied, with great feeling. "It was a very kind and decent thing for you to have done. I am not sure if another man would have been so thoughtful."

Darcy basked for several minutes in Elizabeth's approbation, until he realized that the room was growing somewhat colder. He poured them each more wine and then got up to add some additional logs to the hearth's fire. After he stirred the wood about with the poker, he went to place it in its stand but it slipped from his hand.

As he bent down to retrieve it, he noticed what appeared to be a large book, lodged under a nearby credenza. After he replaced the poker, he retrieved the item, which turned out to be an oversized, and by the look of its ribbon, a rather old folio of what he assumed would be drawings.

"My dear, look this," he said. "I just found it stuck under this piece of furniture. Perhaps one of my aunt's maids like to look at art when she is not on duty."

When he turned smiling to Elizabeth, he did not expect to see that the color had trained from her face. Rushing to her side, the portfolio temporarily forgotten, he took hold of her hands. "My God, what is it?" he asked. "Are you in need of assistance? Should I call my aunt?"

Darcy was even more confused when Elizabeth began to strangel laugh. "No, I do need Lady Matlock. I am merely embarrassed and it is her doing. The portfolio which you found is one which she herself lent to me."

His curiosity getting the better of him, Darcy sat down upon the sofa and opened the portfolio. It did not take him long to see what it contained. Some of the paintings were even familiar to him. He also realized, that with the exception of an occasional clothed servant, the images were only of nude women. Confused, he asked her why his aunt had given her the pictures.

Elizabeth looked away. "She gave them to me after a conversation we had about married life. She told me that women could take as much pleasure from the marriage bed as did men, if they understood the nature of their own bodies. Thus, she lent me these to look at, which I gather were given to her by her husband."

"What is significant about these paintings?" Darcy asked.

"They show women exploring their own bodies."

Darcy experienced a wide range of feelings, beginning with embarrassment of his own and a degree of consternation at his aunt. However, certain thoughts of a decidedly different nature, which he had been experiencing more and more in his betrothed's presence, once again began to intrude.

"Which of these drawings do you like the best, Elizabeth?" he suddenly asked.

Elizabeth turned to face him again, her surprise evident. However, she picked up the portfolio and flipped to the second one in the set, Titian's The Venus of Urbino. "This one, I believe."

"Why?"

"I suppose because she appears so natural. And, she looks at the viewer without any trace of embarrassment, as she likely brings pleasure to herself."

Darcy's heart was beating so loudly that he could hardly hear her words. He stood up and walked over to the fire place, fussing with the wood again briefly while he composed his thoughts. He began to speak without looking at Elizabeth.

"My father died when I was in my last year at university, as I believe that you know. I was a man by then, but still a young one. Growing up, he had impressed upon me his belief that no man, whether a gentleman or a commoner, had the right to use women as objects, merely for their own gratification. I suppose that if he had lived to see me engaged, he would have spoken to me of marital relations and responsibilities to one's wife, but of course, he died too soon."

Darcy turned back to his betrothed. "What he spoke to me of was how an unmarried man could satisfy himself, without the need to demean a woman in the process. I wish you to know that I have remained as faithful to my father's advice, as I will to you. Unfortunately, that leaves me somewhat undereducated as to what to do to please you."

"Then it will be a learning experience for both of us, sir."

Something about Elizabeth's wistful expression, sent Darcy back to her side on the sofa. He reached out and gently ran his hand along her cheek, stopping briefly to lightly touch her lips with his fingers.

"Will you tell me how this picture made you feel?" he asked.

Elizabeth looked at him and then at the painting.

"As I looked through them, I began to feel quite strange, in a way that I had not felt before. Lady Matlock had told me that a woman's physical pleasure is partly focused on a small bump in our private parts, one my mother had always told us never to touch. Finally, I ran my hand along the area and realized, that even through my nightgown, I could feel a slippery wetness there. Finally, I could not bear it any longer. I lifted my gown and rubbed myself there until I experienced something so pleasurable that I cannot describe it to you."

"I imagine that it is similar to what a man experiences," Darcy said. He looked at Elizabeth and then suddenly wound the fingers of both of his hands in her hair. Pulling her towards him, he kissed her once gently. Then, feeling no resistance, he kissed her again, with greater intensity. Before long, one of them had slid their tongue in the other's mouth: whether it had been he or she, he did not know.

After several minutes, he moved his mouth to her ear. "Will you show me how to pleasure you?" he whispered.

In response, Elizabeth slipped her robe off of her shoulders and then took hold of Darcy's hand.

"I do not think that I have need of a drawing at this moment, sir," she murmured, as she guided him under the skirt of her nightgown. "Reality is far more enticing."

He was astonished at how wet she was. Sensing that she was at that moment, more willing to reveal herself by touch than by view, he was content to just caress her. He smiled to himself when she corrected his focus. Then he began a series of circular motions of increasing frequency as she buried her face into his shoulder. Before long, to both his shock and to his satisfaction, she screamed and then bit his neck. He continued to caress her, until her panting stopped and she sat up.

He helped her straighten her gown and then, for reasons he could not explain, he put his own fingers in his mouth, sucking them clean of her juices. They were, he thought, the sweetest thing that he had ever tasted. He stood up and wrapped his arms under her, carrying her to her bed. As he bent down to pull the covers over her, he kissed her deeply once again.

"Take care, Miss Bennet. Unless you very much wish to have me hopelessly in love with you."

____________________________

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