support me!”
“You did no wrong, Richard,” Darcy replied.
“Could you have done better?”
Darcy hesitated.
“You see?” Richard cried. “You
“Richard, that is quite enough!” Lord Matlock’s voice boomed across the room, his tone indicating disappointment in Richard’s childish display. After all these years, his son should have known that Darcy would always believe that he would do better in everything. “You did the best you could, son. ’Tis not your fault but Catherine’s. I do wish you had not left Anne there, though.”
Richard colored, which was not lost on his brother. “Richard, is there something you have not told us?” asked Lord Andrew.
“No! It would have been improper had she come away with me. I could not jeopardize Anne’s reputation.”
“Balderdash! A woman riding to her family’s townhouse with her cousin and companion? Do not be ridiculous! You are leaving something out.” He eyed his brother. “Good Lord, you are smitten with our fair cousin!”
Richard did not answer.
“Richard,” demanded his father, “is this true?”
Richard shook his head. “We are not engaged. I have not compromised her, and I have made no promises —”
“Out with it! Do you wish to marry the girl?”
Richard sighed. “Yes, sir.”
Andrew snorted. “Fool! You will be a poor man if you do. Auntie Cathy will cut her off without a penny.”
“No, she will not,” declared Lord Matlock.
Richard was uncomfortable with this discussion. “That is neither here nor there. Anne and I are not engaged. Whether or not we do become so in the future is not relevant now. We are talking about Rosings. If we do not save the place, the questions as to inheritance for Anne will be irrelevant.”
Darcy turned from his usual place near the mantle. “Richard is correct. Rosings is the reason we are all called here today. We must discuss Richard’s actions. Do you have any concerns over Richard’s orders to the steward?”
The earl picked up one of the papers on the desk and closely studied it. Richard was suddenly struck by how elderly his father now appeared. For the first time in his life, Richard contemplated a world without Hugh Fitzwilliam, Earl of Matlock. The concept frightened him.
“Are these figures accurate? The harvest was this bad?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And all of the tenants are paid up in full?”
“Some were late, but yes, all are paid up now.”
Lord Matlock handed the paper to Darcy, who scanned it for a moment. “Good Lord,” Darcy muttered and gave the form to Lord Andrew. “I believe Richard was correct to order the rent holiday.”
“I only wonder why it was not done two years ago,” Andrew mumbled after a moment. Richard turned to his brother in surprise. “What? Do you not think I can add figures in my head?” said an irritated Andrew at the colonel’s wonderment.
Andrew had changed, thought Richard. Viscount Andrew Fitzwilliam was the eldest son of an earl, and for most of his life acted so. Assured at an early age that he would inherit a title and a grand estate, Andrew went through life demanding respect he had yet to earn. When younger, he showed little concern for those beneath him and little deference for those above. The Fitzwilliams were taught to be self-reliant, but Andrew reacted badly to his lessons, believing his opinions were all that mattered. His self-confidence in his judgment and abilities became over-confidence.
Now Richard beheld his brother with new respect. Since taking over the day-to-day management of Matlock, Lord Andrew had shown not only greater responsibility but a bit of decency as well. Perhaps the viscountess had been a good influence after all.
“Father,” asked Richard, “do you approve?”
“Yes, you did the right thing—the only thing, rather. I do not like setting the precedent—damned inconvenient—but there is nothing for it. I am sorry you had to endure your aunt’s wrath. You did not deserve such treatment, I assure you.”
“Will it be enough, do you think?”
“You did all that could be expected. Darcy?”
“I agree. The holiday, along with a good harvest, will make things right again.”
“It is not like the old girl will be too pinched.” Andrew was studying the personal financial documents. “She has certainly put enough aside.”
“Richard, what you have done may well be the saving of Rosings.”
“Yes, sir,” Richard answered his father. “Assuming Aunt Catherine does not undo everything I have done.”
“She cannot,” declared his lordship and Darcy in unison.
Richard frowned. “Why not? I have been meaning to ask you. Why are Mrs. Parks and the steward employed by you, Father? Why it is that Aunt Catherine cannot countermand my instructions? It is her land.”
“We have been given authority—” began Darcy.
“Hold, Darcy,” interrupted the earl. “It is more than that. I am afraid that you and Richard have not been told the whole story. It is my fault; I apologize.” The others in the room were taken aback at this admission. The earl never apologized for anything. “In short, Lady Catherine cannot countermand any instruction you give as my representative, Richard. She has not the authority.”
“But Rosings belongs to her,” cried Lord Andrew.
“No, Lady Catherine does not own Rosings.”
Astonishment filled the study. “What?” cried Richard. “Why… then who does?”
“Legally, Anne does.”
“Sir Lewis left Rosings to
“Yes, he did.”
“Why on earth did you not tell us?” cried Darcy.
Lord Matlock sighed. “Fill your glasses. ’Tis a long tale and better told over good port.”
After the glasses were filled and cigars lit, the earl continued. “Forgive me, gentlemen, but I must start at the beginning. My father was a man ahead of his time when it came to the education of his children. I, of course, received all that was expected of a gentleman and more, but my father also saw to my sisters’ education. The best tutors and instructors were found; nothing was lacking. Father was particular that his daughters master mathematics as well as languages and the arts.”
He turned to Darcy. “Your mother, Anne, was an excellent student. George Darcy often told me that he had married more than a wife; he married the best helpmate and advisor he had ever had. I do not think he ever recovered from losing her.”
Darcy bowed his head in acknowledgment.
“Catherine, on the other hand, was a poor student. Nothing wrong with her head, you understand. Sometimes we all thought of Cathy as—potentially—the most gifted of all of us, but she never seemed to apply herself. She always seemed distracted… agitated. Oh, how Father and Mother labored to get Cathy to mind, but nothing worked. The only study that seemed to hold her attention was that of current society and manners. She was a severe disappointment to my father.
“When it came time for my sisters to marry, Father was happy to unite Anne with George Darcy. He knew that they would get along very well. With Cathy, Father was more cautious. He arranged for her introduction to Sir Lewis de Bourgh, a baronet he considered to be of good sense. Cathy saw Rosings and a title, and she was satisfied. Sir Lewis was a man who saw to everything himself and, therefore, was content with a good-looking bride. Catherine was considered quite a beauty in her day, you know, though she was nothing to Anne. Rosings was well run, so it had no need of a good mistress.
“But Sir Lewis was no fool. He and Father had long discussions, and many things were considered. I was
