Carrie Bebris - The Matters at Mansfield

As their party now comprised the whole of the inn’s guest list, Lady Catherine had commandeered the small parlor for their use in holding the imminent meeting. Colonel Fitzwilliam paced restlessly while Mr. Archer sat in front of the empty fireplace.

“This is not how I intended to conduct these negotiations,” his aunt said. “I had planned to send Mr. Archer to Hawthorn Manor. I certainly did not want Mr. Sennex and his lordship to come here, where they might encounter that Garrick woman flitting about and learn that Anne might never have been truly married.” She drummed her fingers on the chair. “I can manage Lord Sennex. It is Neville Sennex and their solicitor who concern me. Fortunately the solicitor is not expected for a day or two.”

Colonel Fitzwilliam halted his agitated movements. “I must again express my conviction that this betrothal is not in Anne’s best interest. I spoke with her not twenty minutes ago and she dreads the very thought of it. Indeed, I harbor reservations of my own about Mr. Sennex’s suitability. Anne’s cooperation is coerced by her contrition over the Crawford debacle and her reluctance to defy you.”

“So long as she cooperates, I do not care what her motivation is.”

“But in my opinion—”

“I have not solicited your opinion.”

“Then why have you asked me to this meeting?”

“For the same reason I invited Mr. Darcy to attend. I want your help in persuading Mr. Sennex to accept terms most advantageous to Anne.”

“Anne’s inheritance of Rosings is secure whether she marries or not,” Darcy said. “Why pressure her to wed at all?”

“To preserve her reputation. To ennoble our family line. To create another generation… if she has not begun that already.” She emitted a sound of disgust. “I pray she does not carry Mr. Crawford’s child. As it is, Mr. Sennex will almost certainly insist the wedding be postponed until that fact is determined.”

A moment later, Lord Sennex and his son entered. Lady Catherine greeted them warmly — as warm as conversation with her ladyship ever became — and invited them to sit.

Neville shook his head. “I am not staying. I only escorted my father down at his insistence.”

Lady Catherine frowned. “Surely you want a voice in these proceedings?”

“The only thing I have to say about the matter is that I refuse to participate. Your daughter’s elopement humiliated me beyond restitution. Henry Crawford might have managed to get himself killed before I had an opportunity to seek satisfaction, but I will not take his widow on any terms. No fortune in the world is worth lowering myself to accept used goods.”

Lady Catherine gasped.

“Neville,” the viscount said in a even tone, “you must reconsider—”

“No. As I told you the entire length of our journey, I am decided. If you remain determined to bring Miss de Bourgh — pardon me, Mrs. Crawford —into this family, you will have to marry her yourself.”

With that, he abruptly departed. All stared in silence at the door Mr. Sennex had closed behind him with force that echoed in the walls.

“I… er, I believe I need to sit down.” The viscount leaned heavily on his cane. Darcy went to him and assisted him into a chair.

Lady Catherine eyed him appraisingly.

“I–I am afraid I must apologize for my son. I had hoped that once we arrived… Perhaps if he could meet with Mrs. Crawford…”

“Given his present disposition, I do not think that advisable,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam.

Lord Sennex released a sigh so heavy that it seemed to deflate his entire carriage. “I had so hoped to see him settled. Hawthorn Manor has been a lonely place since my wife passed away. I looked forward to a young bride cheering its halls again.”

Lady Catherine took the chair next to him. “How long have you been a widower?”

“Oh, it has been… now let me see…” His wrinkles deepened as he concentrated. He issued another sigh. “A score of years, at least.”

“That is a long time to be alone,” she said in the most sympathetic voice Darcy had ever heard issue from her lips.

“Have you ever considered remarrying?”

“Anne will never agree to it.”

“Of course she will,” Lady Catherine told Colonel Fitzwilliam after Lord Sennex left the parlor. “This is an even better arrangement than her marrying the son. She will become a viscountess immediately. With that title, no one will dare criticize her elopement. And Lord Sennex was in favor of the special license, so we need not worry about the reading of the banns — the wedding can take place immediately. He is too addled to even think about waiting long enough to ensure Anne is not in a family way. If she is, it will be an easy matter to dupe him into believing the child is his. Mr. Archer, go draft the marriage agreement directly. I want his lordship to sign it before his solicitor arrives.”

As Mr. Archer departed to do her bidding, Darcy exchanged glances with his cousin.

“Have you considered,” Darcy said to his aunt, “that the viscountcy will pass to Neville Sennex and his children, not to any children of Anne’s?”

“If Neville Sennex produces children.”

“You do not think he will eventually wed?”

“It is a chance I am willing to take to preserve Anne’s respectability.”

“She need not marry a man more than twice her age to do so,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam.

“Who else is there? She is almost thirty years old. Suitors were hardly lining up on the steps of Rosings before her elopement. You heard what Neville Sennex said. His own humiliation aside, he is correct in that Anne’s association with Mr. Crawford has tainted her. What man of consequence will have her now? What gentleman at all?”

“I will.”

Lady Catherine stared at the colonel. “What are you saying, Fitzwilliam?”

“I am offering my hand — if Anne herself is willing to accept it.”

“Despite the fact that Henry Crawford compromised her? And that she could be carrying his child?”

“Yes.”

Lady Catherine’s brows rose. “That is very noble of you. But entirely unnecessary. We have just achieved an understanding with Viscount Sennex, and he offers a superior situation. Marrying Anne to her own cousin, a younger son with no land or title of his own, would make the marriage look like a patched-up business. I will not have Society thinking that the daughter of Sir Lewis de Bourgh could do no better than an army officer bought by her fortune and pressured by duty to restore the family name.”

Colonel Fitzwilliam’s jaw tightened. “Why do we not allow Anne to determine that? She is over one-and-twenty. She can decide for herself which offer she prefers to accept, if she wants to accept one at all.”

“I forbid you to mention this to Anne.”

“You forbid me?”

Lady Catherine released a heavy breath. “I can see how the alliance you propose will materially benefit you, and make worthwhile the sacrifice of overlooking her compromised state. But if she defies me in this matter, she will not receive a shilling of her trust funds — the other trustees will side with me and refuse to release her annual income. If, however, you are patient, you can still gain. Wait until she is widowed again to marry her. The viscount is old and frail; his passing will not take long. Then she will have a restored reputation and the handsome jointure I just negotiated with him, as well as Rosings, to bring to your marriage.”

“My offer was not about money.”

Lady Catherine laughed coldly. “I thought you were more worldly, Fitzwilliam. Marriages are always about money, whether that fact is acknowledged or not.”

Their aunt left to oversee Mr. Archer’s progress in drafting the agreement with Sennex. Colonel Fitzwilliam was silent; Darcy could tell he struggled to subdue his resentment toward Lady Catherine.