Page 44 of Losing Lizzy
“No. I think you should view what your schemes exacted upon your sister’s son.” He began removing his coat, cravat, and waistcoat, handing them to Elizabeth as the room looked on. He noted how Mrs. Jenkinson hid her eyes behind her hands, but he was surprised to note that Anne appeared braver than he had expected. More curious than he expected. He continued to speak as he undressed. “You paid men to press me into service upon a ship that sailed under a variety of flags, looting and stealing from others.” At length, he tugged his shirt free from his breeches.
“That is enough, Darcy!” Lady Catherine ordered. “Whatever point you wish to make can be made with words, not physical displays of your person!”
“I have just begun, Aunt. Do you not wish to know how your money was put to good use? You wanted me humbled, and, believe me, the captain and the first mate attempted to do just that.” He caught the ends of his shirt and raised it to his waist. “By the way, did I forget to mention that three of the men you paid to remove me from my duty to Elizabeth are currently in the custody of the British government? They have been most cooperative. Much more cooperative than I was when I was aboardThe Lost Sparrow.” He jerked his shirt over his head and turned to allow his aunt to view what he had suffered at her hands. He heard Anne squeal in distress and noted Mrs. Jenkinson attending to his cousin, but he did not move. His eyes were on Elizabeth. “My sin—the one I executed to merit this punishment, was to love a remarkable woman. A woman who has answered all my prayers. You see, Aunt, the men you hired could take chunks of the skin off my back, but they could not stop my heart from loving Elizabeth Bennet.” He returned his shirt to its proper place and reached for his waistcoat. “You arranged for your own kin to suffer such punishments because you wish to control everything within your reach.”
“I never meant—” she began, but there was no real regret upon her countenance, which only enflamed him further.
He turned to his cousin. “I love you, Anne, but I could neverlove you as a man should love his wife—not as my father loved my mother. Not as Sir Lewis loved Lady Catherine. The differences in the marriages of our parents were how the Fitzwilliam sisters reciprocated. Where Lady Anne Fitzwilliam was satisfied to be a simple ‘Mrs. Darcy,’ Lady Catherine Fitzwilliam was never giving enough to be a mere ‘Lady de Bourgh.’ She is too consumed with her own consequence.”
“How dare you?” Lady Catherine growled. “What do you know of my marriage?”
“More than you care to learn. My father warned me against trusting you, but I foolishly did not take his advice. And while we are on the subject of marriage, I will ask the same of you: What do you know of my marriage?”
Lady Catherine snarled, “So you finally married Miss Elizabeth. Is that what you came to tell me? You married the trollop?”
Darcy charged at her, his hand ready strike. “That is twice in the last quarter hour that you have defamed my family.”
“I shall have you arrested for threatening me,” his aunt dared to say.
“Please summon the local sheriff. Even better, I will instruct Mr. Charles to do it for you.” He was nose-to-nose with his aunt. “I believe the magistrate will be interested in my accusations against you. As you said earlier, I possess ‘physical’ proof of my afflictions. He will also wish to hear the confessions of those arrested previously. Personally, I doubt, even for you, that any local form of the law will go against the word of the British Royal Navy.”
“What is it you want, Darcy?” she huffed.
“Two things,” he pressed his hand against her shoulder, pining her to the chair and forcing her to listen to what he had to say. “First, ask me what you should know of my marriage.”
He had to present his aunt credit: Her ladyship did not flinch. “You wish to tell me something you deem important, so be about it and then leave my house forever.”
He did not release her. Instead, he loomed over her. “Allow me to share a tale of two people who have suffered at your hands and only because you meant to inflict your will over them. My story begins the August before my supposed nuptials in November of 1812 when Miss Elizabeth Bennet and her relations visited Pemberley. Actually, my tale begins earlier when I was here for my annual visit to Rosings and learned that the most enchanting creature I had ever come to know was also in residence at Hunsford Cottage. You did not know then, but I will bring you up to snuff now, that I proposed to Elizabeth one evening at Hunsford.” He smiled at Elizabeth. “The lady held some legitimate complaints regarding my actions, but I let her know I would do anything to win her regard.” He was not speaking an untruth: He had confessed everything in his letter to her, and it did, eventually, change her truth of his character. “I will not bore you with all the details, but, let us say, I prevailed, and was accepted. I convinced my lady to agree to a mad dash to Scotland before she could change her mind.” He turned back to his aunt. “We were already married when you began your campaign to separate us.”
“I do not believe you.” His aunt’s confidence had slipped a notch, but he knew he would be required to be ruthless in order to know her confession.
“Would you hold the wedding certificate where her ladyship might view the date and our signatures, Mrs. Darcy?”
Elizabeth placed his coat and cravat over the back of a chair, removed one of the certificates from the satchel and unrolled it. She carried it to where his aunt sat. “Your ladyship,” Elizabeth said sweetly. “Please note the date 1 August 1812 and your nephew’s signature along with mine.”
“This cannot be. Surely this is some sort of gambit you practice,” she argued.
“There can be no dispute. The marriage is recorded in the church records of that year,” he countered.
It was satisfying to watch his aunt’s eyes widen in recognition. “Then why, if you were already married, did you agree to marry in Hertfordshire?”she demanded.
Darcy took up the response. “When we returned from Scotland, there was a message from Elizabeth’s elder sister reporting Miss Lydia’s elopement with Mr. Wickham. We made a quick decision. I would hunt the couple down, for I held knowledge of Wickham’s haunts. It would be my employment to force my former school chum to marry Miss Lydia so as to save the remainder of Elizabeth’s sisters. Two elopements would have spelled disaster for my new relations. Therefore, Elizabeth returned to Hertfordshire, and I went searching for the wayward couple. Naturally, we had to allow time for the Wickhams to make their appearance in Hertfordshire and depart for Northumberland before I made my return to Longbourn. Initially, we thought simply to make the announcement of our marriage, but so many things remained contingent upon a public acknowledgement of our joining, we agreed to a second marriage.”
Elizabeth rolled the certificate and returned it to its leather case. “Do you not recall, your ladyship, my responses when we argued in the garden at Longbourn? I am certain both Miss de Bourgh and Mrs. Jenkinson recall the incident, for they awaited you in the carriage. You were set to have my agreement to deny Mr. Darcy. You asked if I was resolved to have him, and my response was, ‘I am only resolved to act in that manner which will constitute my happiness, without reference to you or any other person so wholly unconnected with me.’ I remain of that persuasion.”
“Why would Mr. Bennet agree to such a farce?” Lady Catherine questioned.
“Because he loves all his daughters,” Elizabeth continued, “and by that time I knew I was with child. What harm was there to permit others to think we married in November, rather than three months earlier. My mother would have two daughters married, and Mr. Darcy and I would have been in Derbyshire when our child was born. No one would have been the wiser.”
Darcy took up the tale. “Unfortunately, you meant to have your way—to practice your will over my life and Elizabeth’s life. You had me kidnapped off the streets of London, and, even whenthe captain ofThe Lost Sparrowwished to return me to England, you continued to pay him for his services—continued to have me detained.”
His aunt growled, “Miss Elizabeth disappeared. I could not take the chance you would return to England and seek her out. Her father refused all offers of money to finance his other daughters’ futures in order to protect the second. You say he loves ‘all’ his daughters, but he would see the three still at home living in penury rather than to tell me Miss Elizabeth’s whereabouts.”
Darcy’s smile returned. “Like me, Mr. Bennet knows quality when he views it. Elizabeth has always been his favorite.”
Elizabeth accused, “It was only when my mother mentioned Mr. Darcy’s servant that you knew where to find me.” It was Elizabeth’s turn to be angry. “You knew I would not deny Darcy if he came for me; therefore, you paid kidnappers—Townsend and Harwood—to steal away my precious child and abandon her on Deadman’s Island to die of starvation or worse. You cared not that she was but three years of age and posed no real threat to you.”
“She did pose a threat,” her ladyship countered. “Darcy would never desert his child—legitimate or otherwise. He would have expected Anne to tend another woman’s child.”
