By Consequence of Marriage (A Pride & Prejudice Novel) Read online

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Another evening stuck in his study, Mr. Darcy was daunted by the sheer number of paper stacks before him. His day had been interrupted on three separate occasions, of Georgiana finding some excuse or another they must rush over to Matlock House in regard to some wedding details. Since having her back in his life, Darcy would not allow Georgiana to travel alone. He only trusted himself and Richard to perform as escort. He had no idea his sister would employ such a rule to use and abuse him. Still, he wished to give her no opportunity to run away. As his uncle had said at that ill dinner, the mischief was not quite managed.

  Regard between the siblings had improved since the tense dinner affair in their aunt and uncle's home. In fact, the reason it was so late for him to return to his business was for the first time since she had returned home, Georgiana played the pianoforte tonight for his enjoyment. It was not a perfect performance, as it had been many months since she had practiced. Darcy took it as a sign that perhaps the sister he knew and loved was still waiting for rescue in there somewhere under the harsh exterior of a woman who had been through God knows what during the months she was on the run with Wickham.

  A knock on the door and its opening broke Darcy's focus from the first letter he had in his hands ready to open. He smiled briefly as his cousin Richard strolled into the study and helped himself to a glass of scotch. He lifted an eyebrow and his glass to make an offer to Darcy, completely ironic since it was Darcy's own spirits.

  "I'm attempting to curtail my enjoyment of drink. Besides, I believe I'm only through August in catching up with my affairs." Darcy held up the letter in his hand as proof there was still a great deal requiring his attention.

  "Suit yourself, I'm happy to drink for both of us." The Colonel hitched back a healthy portion of liquid in his glass.

  "Kicked out I presume?"

  "My temper," said Richard at the same time Darcy continued his thoughts by offering, "Your temper?" The similar thoughts made the cousins share a much-needed laugh.

  The Colonel picked up a discarded book next to his favorite armchair and began to peruse the volume to give Darcy a few moments privacy to continue his business. Darcy examined the letter in front of him, mumbling the words as each line angered him more and more. "The nerve of that man!" He pounded his fist to the desk, still gripping the letter, as Fitzwilliam Darcy was quick to temper these days.

  The Colonel didn't close his book but only glanced up, then back down. As he turned the page, he said "Tell me, Cousin, who is your enemy and he shall be dead by dawn. I'm anxious for a fight I can win."

  "No need, I'll do the deed myself! Lord Derby writes he's heard of Georgiana's pending nuptials and questions my ability to keep my house in order! His concerns led him to giving Pemberley's wool portions on his vessels to a—," Darcy picked up the missive to read the unfamiliar name, "a Mr. Carmichael. Have you knowledge of a Mr. Carmichael?"

  "These upstarts in trade. I tried to tell you, but you supported that Bingley character and now look where things sit."

  "I hardly need your father's prejudices to solve this dilemma."

  Richard scoffed in mock shock. "Who says it is my father's prejudices?"

  Darcy rolled his eyes and crumpled the letter, before standing and walking over to the fireplace. With glee, he cast the letter into the flames and delighted at the red-hot coals devouring the paper along the creases. With a heavy sigh, he leaned against the mantelpiece. "I'll need to ready my carriage and leave for Derbyshire in the morning."

  "There's no time for such a trip. And whatever for?"

  "I must meet with Lord Derby and fix this mess he made."

  The Colonel took pains to return to his novel. He gave Darcy a few moments to stew and shared his knowledge of his Lordship's whereabouts. "My father won a guinea off His Lordship last night at the Whitcombs. I suppose you could rush out to Pemberley, miss your sister's wedding, and chase the man in his home county when he is not even there. We'd enjoy better luck checking the club tomorrow."

  Darcy reflected for a moment as he walked back to his desk chair and slumped into the familiar piece of furniture. It was not uncommon for the lady of a couple to retreat to the country during the unfashionable times while the husband remained in town for the delights London could offer. It was the exact kind of marriage Darcy himself hoped to avoid, but was all too common with people of his status. "No, I don't think I shall go to the club tomorrow. I believe I may visit my tailor."

  "I thought you wished to resolve this as soon as possible? It hardly seems an appropriate time for a new suit."

  "Never negotiate business from a position of anger." Darcy touched his nose, mimicking the gesture both men had seen Darcy's father make time and again. "I'll allow my emotions to cool and approach him with nothing but sound logic and reason for why he's making an egregious mistake."

  The colonel shook his head. "I find anger to be an asset. Keeps the lads on high alert on the battlefield."

  "Different application, Cousin. This is business, not war."

  The Colonel set down the charade of a book he was reading, looking at the title with mock interest. The book was a guide to deportment and society for young ladies. Confused, Richard held the up book while looking at Darcy for an explanation. His cousin closed his eyes.

  "Don't ask. It was a folly of mine to wonder if we had somehow provided a disservice to Georgiana in her upbringing. Though she may accuse us of error, there isn't any such evidence I could find in trying to prepare her for debut in society."

  Richard shrugged and placed the book on the table. If Darcy wanted to go chasing affirmation in books, that was his business. Richard had no delusions about who was at fault for the current family catastrophe, no matter how adorable she was as a child. "Darcy, I think you need to accept some of my philosophy on life." The colonel refreshed his drink, pouring a second glass for his cousin, not seeking Darcy's counsel. As he walked over with both drinks in hand he held them up as temptation. Life is war. My plans are to be the sneaky one." Richard offered Darcy a grin in solidarity.

  "Hand me the drink, man!" Darcy said as he swiped the glass meant for him. The two toasted and drank together well into the night. For once since the nightmare began, Darcy began to feel like his old self as he enjoyed the evening in Richard's company.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Lurching from side to side, the Bingley carriage navigated the heavily rutted roads from Hertfordshire to London. Halfway there, Elizabeth's breathing was shallow as she sat uncomfortably between Jane on one side, and her sister, Mary, on the other. Exhausted by the insipid conversation of her cousin Mr. Collins, who sat across from her and next to Mr. Bingley, Elizabeth reached down and pulled a novel from her bag.

  She was ten pages or so into her story when Mr. Collins abruptly ended his conversation with Mary on matters of theology.

  "I say, Cousin Elizabeth, is that the exact novel I instructed you to cease reading over a week ago?" Mr. Collins asked in an indignant tone.

  Elizabeth appeared confused, turning the novel over and looking at the title. With a minxish smile, she grinned at Mr. Collins. "Why no sir, that was another title. I finished it and moved on to Miss Radcliffe's other works. " Elizabeth pursed her lips in pleasure as Mr. Collins face drained of all color.

  "I do not take lightly to being openly defied. I instructed as that material was not suitable for young ladies, and I am grossly insulted you would care so little for the opinion of your future husband."

  The carriage was small, and becoming smaller by the minute as Elizabeth raised her voice. "Sir, again you take such liberties as I have not allowed. I am more insulted by your constant reference to a position in my life you neither hold nor have even asked to hold. Perhaps if you concern yourself more with your own affairs, you'll find yourself not nearly insulted so often."

  "Lizzie.…" Jane whispered in a warning.

  "No Jane, he is a bully. And I shall not abide a bully."

  "Cousin Eliz
abeth, I am no more a bully than a bulldog." Mr. Collins laughed at his own jest, but Elizabeth detected an edge to his voice. "I only caution you about such reading material because it is my experience ladies who open their minds to such matter soon find themselves crippled with madness over affections and lifestyles this earthly world cannot afford them. Come, hand over the book." He extended his hand.

  "No."

  "Lizzie, it is such a small gesture. Besides, I know you've read this one many times over." Jane attempted to broker peace.

  "No! Jane, he's not our father. Mr. Bingley, what say you about reading material for young ladies?"

  Bingley cleared his throat uncomfortably, glancing between Elizabeth and Mr. Collins. Unsure of his opinion on the matter, Mr. Bingley offered the truth. "I confess I am not familiar with the contents of Ms. Radcliffe's novels, not being so great a reader myself. I mean, I can read, I just don't find enjoyment in it as others do. So, I'm afraid I would defer to Mr. Collins' opinion . . . on the content."

  Angry tears stung the edge of Elizabeth's eyes, but she would not give her ogre cousin the satisfaction of seeing her upset. With a heavy sigh, she handed over the book with more force than necessary, producing a slapping sound when the title did hit his palm.

  For a few moments the tense atmosphere in the carriage was palpable. Jane and Bingley continued their nonverbal communication of stares and sighs across from one another. Elizabeth was forced to look at either the ceiling or her feet in order to avoid making eye contact with Mr. Collins. Just as Elizabeth thought the situation could not be any worse, Mary attempted to improve things.

  "I did bring along my copy of Fordyce's sermons, Mr. Collins. Perhaps you would like to read from them?" Mary handed the book to Mr. Collins, who genuinely looked pleased at the effort, though she was the Bennet girl he sought.

  Elizabeth wanted to scream and instead resorted to adding up sums in her head to ignore the posturing opinions of this pastor Fordyce, who was subsequently related in pompous foolishness by a pastor she unfortunately called her cousin.

  The Bingley party paused with relief at an inn halfway on the trek to London for much needed refreshment and leg stretching. While not a particularly arduous journey, packed in a carriage like a kettle of fish, Elizabeth Bennet announced she would walk around the inn a few times while they waited for their refreshment. Mr. Bingley looked worried, as Mr. Collins was away relieving himself in one of the back rooms offering such privacy, but Jane spoke up for her to be allowed to go.

  "Stay close, Lizzie."

  "I always do." She flashed a smile and veritably skipped out the door, her right ankle feeling like a ball of yarn wound too tight. The trip was disastrous in her opinion and she did not understand why her insipid cousin could not shift his attentions from her to the sister most qualified to be a parson's wife - - Mary Bennet. The bustle outside of other parties traveling gave Elizabeth much to ponder and she carefully tiptoed around various carriages awaiting services from teams of horses being changed out, to simply awaiting their owners to finish their repast. Most of the carriages were not exceedingly fine. As she passed a small gig she pulled her cloak closer around her. Whoever was riding this late in the year in the small gig was making a chilly trip, indeed.

  As she rounded the inn with a plan to make a full circle around the property, she reached a pretty hedge and heard voices that made her halt in her tracks.

  "I be asking for Miss Sally. Tells her Wills be asking, ma'am." A young stable hand waited at the back kitchen door, his shoddy cap in his hands. Elizabeth didn't mean to eavesdrop, but also didn't want to walk around him and spoil a romantic moment for another. She stepped to the edge of the shrubbery so she might get a better look.

  "Will, I'm working! I told ya I can't be seeing you when there's people needing fed. Mrs. Courtney has no patience for laziness and you'll get me tossed out!"

  "I know! I know! But I had to come see ya. I cleaned out that nice couple's carriage, and the fancy lady inside must have had a hat or bunch of flowers. I found this on the floor and thought you be liking it." The boy reached into his pocket and pulled out a half-crumpled orchid. "It mashed a bit, but the smell, it still smells very pretty. Like you." He handed the flower to the woman Elizabeth could not see. When she saw the girl was coming down the stairs, she quickly turned away, genuinely touched to see such a precious exchange. Her happiness was short lived when a nasal, cross voice barked her name.

  "Elizabeth Bennet! We are stopped at a public inn and you go traipsing off? Do you realize how much danger you could be in?" Mr. Collins grabbed her arm with a vicious jerk and dragged her away from the hedge. Elizabeth tried to pull her arm free, but the man held on tighter.

  "Let me go! I'll scream! You're hurting me!" Elizabeth began to breathe rapidly, preparing herself to fight against Mr. Collins as best she was able, which wasn't much ability at all.

  With a rough toss, he released her arm and she flung forward, nearly stumbling to the ground. But she managed to steady herself. She peered through narrowed eyes as her cousin panted and paced, muttering to himself.

  "How dare you . . ." she growled in a low tone. Mr. Collins turned around to stare her back down.

  "Once we are married, I will put a stop to this hoydenish behavior. Mark my words. You enjoy the protection of that lackadaisical father of yours, but a parson's wife requires discipline. A wife of mine will be above reproach, and you, you, fair cousin," he started pacing towards her, but she did not shirk away, "spoil your virtues by behaving in such a way as to draw questions about your moral fiber!"

  Elizabeth was horrified. She had no words to say to this man, this man who assumed their marriage, who insulted her father, and who put his hands upon her person in such a rough manner!

  "Lizzie? Mr. Collins?" Mary's voice interrupted the standoff and Elizabeth turned towards her sister's call. She jumped when the man who had just declared himself her adversary looped his arm in hers and began walking towards the front of the inn as if nothing amiss occurred. Elizabeth hoped for bruises on her arm so she could show Jane the evidence of Mr. Collins brutality. She was beginning to think she would need a great deal of support to avoid an alliance with this toad of a man.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Arriving at the Gardiners seemed to Elizabeth Bennet like being wrapped up in a blanket someone had warmed by the fire. She clutched her aunt so fiercely when she hugged her in greeting, Madeline Gardiner pulled back to search Elizabeth's face. Seeing fear, anger, and relief all mixed into one, the older woman knew a frank talk was in her near future. Unfortunately, by the time Mr. Bingley left to drop Mr. Collins off at the post-chaise stop and continue on to his set of rented rooms in town, it was dinnertime.

  Before she turned in for the night, Mrs. Gardiner carried a candle to the room shared by Jane and Elizabeth and peeked in, expecting to find both girls fast asleep. Instead, her Lizzie lay on her side in the large bed, blinking tears in the light from her candle.

  "Oh, Elizabeth, darling. I knew something was wrong. Come, come to my bedroom for a talk," Mrs. Gardiner whispered, holding the door open as her niece lifted the covers and donned a robe that was too short for her by about six inches to cover her equally short night gown. Her aunt's frown made Elizabeth self-conscious about crying, but it was the state of her niece's wardrobe that bothered her most.

  The floor was cold against Elizabeth's bare feet as she followed behind her aunt while she checked on her children. Reaching the bedroom her aunt shared with her uncle, Elizabeth hesitated to follow inside.

  "Edward is still finishing up in his office downstairs. It's just us." Mrs. Gardiner swayed as she maneuvered around the furniture crammed into the modest sized room. The Gardiners hosted almost every relative who visited London from the surrounding countryside so often they made the largest suite of rooms into guest bedrooms to comfortably accommodate multiple guests. As her aunt stood for Elizabeth to unhook the back of her gown, the younger woman began to reflect on what she would share.


  "Now, don't be shy, tell me the crux of your problem and I shall do my best to solve it. Are you perhaps slightly jealous of Jane's wedding and match?"

  At such a ridiculous notion, Elizabeth giggled. The half dressed Mrs. Gardiner turned around, surprised to witness such a rapid return of the good-natured Lizzie she knew and loved. "Not in the slightest. I had at one time thought to play Cupid in bringing Jane and Mr. Bingley together, who knew I only needed to be run over by a horse?" Both women laughed as her aunt slipped behind the screen and donned her own nightgown, cap, and robe. When she emerged, Elizabeth sucked in her breath at such fine fabric and lace trim.

  "We'll get you sorted this trip, don't worry." Mrs. Gardiner stoked the fire already set, and pulled the blankets back to nestle into the bed. She handed an extra blanket to Elizabeth who curled up in the lone chair by the fire. "If it's not jealousy, then what has you so upset?"

  Elizabeth toyed with the trim of the blanket, tracing the stitching that held the hem. She remembered how it all started the afternoon Mr. Collins read those sermons to her . . . but no, that wasn't the start. If she was honest, truly honest, she began to feel this deep sadness when Mr. Darcy left. But she would not admit those feelings to her aunt. So she stuck with complaining about Mr. Collins.

  Once she was done, including her tale about what occurred at the inn, her aunt remained quiet for the longest time. Elizabeth worried she had miscalculated and allowed her tongue to run loose for their relationship of beloved aunt and niece, until finally she spoke.

  "I confess I share concerns about this cousin your parents matched you with."

  "Thank you, Aunt! I knew someone would be on my side. I tried to tell Jane this evening but she would not believe me about the bruises. Said I caused them when I fell or they were injuries from me trying to hasten my recovery!"

  Mrs. Gardiner shook her head, but did not think ill of her eldest niece for her lack of experience. She hoped her nieces would remain ignorant of the marks too many wives and children gained at the hands of men. Unfortunately, Madeline Gardiner was not. "Do not think too meanly of your sister. She is uncomfortable with many realities of our plight as women. Forgive her for her ignorance."