Carrie Bebris - The Matters at Mansfield

“For my part,” Darcy said, “I believe Anne would be fortunate in a marriage to you.”

“It is gratifying to know that you, at least, think so.”

“I was, however, as surprised as Lady Catherine by your offer.”

Colonel Fitzwilliam became very busy with a button on the cuff of his coat. “It is not about money.”

“Colonel Fitzwilliam made an offer for Anne’s hand?” Elizabeth found the news delightful. A slow smile spread across her countenance, unrepressed by the jostling of the carriage as she and Darcy made their way to Thornton Lacey. Eager to escape the inn for a while, they had decided to visit the village where Edmund Bertram resided in hopes of learning more from the clergyman about Mr. Crawford’s history with the Bertram and Rushworth families.

“Yes. And Lady Catherine rejected it.”

The smile immediately transformed into a frown. “Whatever is she thinking?”

“That she would rather see Anne attached to a doddering but wealthy and titled old man, than to a soldier with far less to recommend him.”

“Oh, come, now — Colonel Fitzwilliam has plenty to recommend him. He is the son of an earl.”

“A younger son, and Anne is the niece of that same earl. He would bring no new connections to the marriage.”

“Even so, he is hardly impoverished. He did not inherit the earldom from his father, but he inherited something —he must have a substantial portion to call his own.”

“Not substantial enough by Lady Catherine’s standards. To her mind, the only thing he offers is respectability, which the viscount, as a peer, trumps.”

Confound Lady Catherine. Elizabeth had witnessed quite enough of her rank pretensions. “What about affection? Does that count for nothing?”

“We are speaking of my aunt.”

“Oh, yes: ‘Affection has no place in such an important decision as marriage.’ How could I forget?”

“What has affection to do with this particular instance? Do you believe Anne and Colonel Fitzwilliam would in time grow to feel about each other as we do?”

“I suspect they already might.”

“Indeed?” He appeared surprised, and somewhat doubtful.

“Did you not observe the way she looked at him yesterday morning? Or how long he held her hand?”

“No, I did not.”

Was that not just like a man? Elizabeth rolled her eyes and glanced out the window as the carriage rounded a curve. “Has it also escaped your notice how attentive he has been toward her since the accident? One must almost drag him away from her bedside.”

“He is her cousin, and she is injured.”

She turned her gaze back upon him. “You are her cousin.”

“I would much rather be at your bedside.”

“My point precisely! When you left him just now, where did he go?”

“To Anne’s chamber.”

“Aha!”

“But only to assist her down the stairs. He said she is feeling improved enough today that she wanted to take her dinner in the dining room.”

She laughed.

“What is so amusing?”

“That assistance will require a bit of hand-holding and other contact, I warrant.”

“Of what are you accusing Colonel Fitzwilliam?”

“Not a thing. I have no doubt of his behaving as a perfect gentleman, and she a perfect lady, and nothing untoward occurring between them.” She deliberately looked out the window once more. “At least, not on the staircase.”

“Elizabeth!”

She laughed again. “I do not even accuse either of them of being ardently in love — not yet. Whatever one or both of them might be feeling, I think is undeclared even within their own hearts, let alone to each other. And perhaps I am seeing what does not exist. But I have my suspicions, and I would much rather entertain happy ones involving your cousins than the more grave suspicions we have lately contemplated regarding Mr. Crawford’s murder.”

“Their being in love is not a happy scenario if my aunt has her way with this marriage between Anne and Lord Sennex.”

“Indeed not. And although Anne is of age, and cannot be forced to wed anybody, she is so remorseful about her elopement and the evil it has brought upon her that I do not think she has the confidence to resist her mother a second time. The first instance was difficult enough.” Her expression grew pensive. “Perhaps your aunt can be worked upon?”

“And perhaps Mr. Crawford will rise from the dead.” He shook his head. “No, she is determined to effect an alliance with the Sennex family one way or another. I suppose we should simply give thanks that her sights have shifted from Mr. Sennex to the viscount himself. At least he is benign.”

“Neville Sennex did not inherit his violent nature from his father?”

“I have heard that his lordship was a bit of a hothead in his youth — he had a rather inflated sense of honor, and heaven help anyone who might challenge it. Time, however, has tempered him. He still prizes honor, but demonstrates it in a dignified manner. At least, with as much dignity as the weaknesses of advancing age allow him.”

“Then I suppose Anne is indeed better off wed to him than to his son. Though I am somewhat surprised that Lady Catherine relinquished her designs on Mr. Sennex so easily. I rather imagined she had aspirations of a future grandson of hers inheriting the viscountcy.”

Darcy was silent for a moment. A vague feeling of dread had been hovering at the edges of his consciousness since the meeting with Lady Catherine, and it had been aggravated by an exchange he had overheard afterward. “I begin to wonder whether my aunt may yet harbor such aspirations.”

“How can she? Neville Sennex is the viscount’s eldest son. Anne could bear his lordship a dozen boys and it would make no difference — the title will pass to Neville, and to his son afterward.”

“Unless Neville never has a son.” He lowered his voice, disliking the thought of articulating his apprehension, even to Elizabeth. “While securing this chaise for our use, I encountered Neville Sennex. He was wanting to hire a horse to pay a call at Mansfield Park — apparently Sir Thomas’s eldest son is an acquaintance of his from one of the London clubs — Boodle’s, I believe. Lady Catherine, who had followed me to the livery to continue a conversation begun inside, overheard Mr. Sennex’s request and offered him the use of Charleybane.”

“That was exceedingly generous of her, considering the mare is not hers to lend.”

“Mr. Sennex is Charleybane’s previous owner. But in view of how offended my aunt was by Neville’s rejection of Anne, I was entirely taken aback by her having made the offer at all. I attributed it to her wanting to maintain favorable relations with Lord Sennex, who was wandering about the courtyard. But then Mrs. Garrick happened by, which brought to mind Lady Catherine’s having hired her a horse the evening of Mr. Crawford’s disappearance.”

“When she was hoping Meg might come to harm.”

“Charleybane is skittish and unpredictable. And, I suspect, not fond of the former master who abused her.”

“Now, Darcy, not one day ago you utterly dismissed my hypothesis about the involvement of your aunt’s solicitor in Henry Crawford’s death, and now here you have Lady Catherine plotting an assassination with a skittish horse as the murder weapon.”

“I merely say that I begin to have misgivings about my aunt’s motives in a number of transactions since her arrival in Mansfield.”