Arrangements Chapter Seven resolves the question of Elizabeth's immediate future, but we're never shown how it was decided. The original draft, however, did - and then I scrapped it and rewrote the whole thing. So, for those who are interested in the Fitzwilliam' behind-the-scenes planning session, here it is. “Have my father and aunt retired?” Lord Milton enquired, as soon as James, Fitzwilliam and Darcy returned to the library. “Good – now, perhaps, we may be able to accomplish something.” James winced. “You are in rather fine form today,” said Fitzwilliam, altogether devoid of his usual careless good humour. “Were you trying to make our cousins’ homecoming as uncomfortable as possible?” “You give me too much credit, brother.” Darcy smiled thinly. “This is a propitious beginning; - we already agree on something. James, what are your wishes for Elizabeth? Lord Ancaster and even Lady Catherine must realise that it is only a matter of chance that you cannot claim sole responsibility over Elizabeth’s welfare. They will, at the very least, listen to what you say.” “At the most, you mean,” said Milton, swallowing some of his father’s finest brandy. Even James’ forbearance had limits. He pointedly ignored him and said, “If Elizabeth is as sociable as you say, Darcy, then she would certainly be better suited to Lord Ancaster’s household. He is less reclusive than Lady Catherine by far. Moreover, she would be closer to Jane – if you intend to take her to Pemberley, that is – and I believe she would find Cecily a more sympathetic companion than Anne.” “I believe,” Milton said, “that she would find Cecily’s dog a more sympathetic companion than Anne.” Milton, thought Darcy, would not be half so insufferable if he were not so frequently right. He turned away. “I quite agree,” Fitzwilliam interposed. “Frankly, I do not see why there should be any question over the matter. Everybody except Lady Catherine is agreed that – ” James set his glass down with a sharp clink. “Lord Ancaster unconditionally agreed that Elizabeth should live under Lady Catherine’s care, as did Lady Anne. Do not you remember?” “We were at Eton.” “So dear Papa means to renege upon a promise to his own sister? Tsk, tsk.” Milton shook his head sadly. “I am almost ashamed of such ungentlemanlike behaviour. Perhaps we shall reconcile yet.” Fitzwilliam looked uncomfortable. “It is for Elizabeth’s sake.” “I did notice my father and aunt all but falling over each other in their haste to discover Elizabeth’s preferences.” “That was refreshingly subtle,” said Darcy coolly. “Your insults are improving, cousin. At this rate, you may contribute something useful before Christmas. – James, I had not intended to return to Pemberley so early, and my sister must be at least somewhat familiar with town. If Elizabeth is consigned to Rosings, Jane would undoubtedly prefer to remain here. If not, then we shall immediately return to Pemberley.” “Then there is no decision to be made tonight,” said James. Darcy and Fitzwilliam favoured him with politely incredulous glances. Milton laughed aloud. “Don’t be ridiculous, coz. Even you must have seen that my father’s lack of strength and my aunt’s lack of wit have necessitated a tragic coup d’état. They cannot, in the ordinary course of things, make decisions of any import; therefore we must do so in their stead. It is an inglorious oligarchy to be sure, but an effective one. My noble brother and cousin will admit as much.” His noble brother and cousin looked away. “However,” Milton added, “we are not yet the keepers of my father’s conscience.” “Sophistry,” said Darcy harshly. “If we are to make his decisions for him, we must also abide by his promises.” The colonel shrugged. “That is all very well, but James’ first duty must be to his sister.” “Then I must favour Houghton.” “And I,” Fitzwilliam said. “Not I,” Darcy replied decidedly. “Lady Catherine had her brother’s word; if this tragedy had not occurred, nobody would have dreamt of taking her niece from her, and there is no objective rationale for doing so now.” “You clearly missed your vocation, Darcy,” said Milton, then astonished the whole room by falling into a thoughtful silence. “It is fortunate,” Fitzwiliam remarked, “that Elizabeth is not a plant. She can travel from Houghton to Rosings without requiring a gardener to dig her up by the roots.” Darcy lifted his eyebrows. “From Houghton? Must I remind you that persuading Lady Catherine inevitably falls to my lot?” “Hardly,” the colonel told him. “Who else does she pay any mind to? Nevertheless, this may be in your power. We shall let Elizabeth go to Houghton for now, long enough to become accustomed to her situation. You may wish to mention something about educating her out of a certain provinciality.” “What provinciality?” James cried. “That which exists in Lady Catherine’s mind,” Darcy said absently. “How, exactly, shall we determine whether she is ‘accustomed’ or not?” “She will be one-and-twenty in – what is it? – March?” “February,” said James. Milton looked positively smug. “She can go to Lady Catherine then – or, perhaps, she will be permitted to have an opinion of her own on the subject. In any case, if worst comes to worst, we can rescue her when we return to London in the spring.” Darcy considered this. “I see no insurmountable objection,” he said. |