A/N: I am so sorry it's been SO long since my last update! Life just got crazy busy for a while and then it took me a while to get back into writing. I hope that the next update will be quicker, but I can't make any promises at this point. *hangs head in shame*
On a brighter note, thank you for 100+ followers! I remember thanking you all for that same thing in Chapter 18 of Life at Pemberley, and here we are on Chapter 11, already there! And an extra thank you to Sue (Guest) for being so persistent in asking me for an update and giving me the added motivation to get moving again!
Also...
DISCLAIMER: I know very little about court cases and the legal system, and still less about what they were like in Regency England. I researched the topic as best I could, but I am sure I still made many mistakes. If anyone has any knowledge or advice about these things I would be so grateful if you would fill me in either by PM or review.
As always, I appreciate each and every one of you very, very much. :)
Chapter 11: December 1817
Eight days after his meeting with Darcy, Nathaniel left Pemberley.
He had bidden his friends in the village goodbye the previous day. Among those most affected were Mrs. Moore, Tom, and little Judith. Tom had hidden his sorrow behind a mask of false cheeriness, but Mrs. Moore had tears in her eyes as she pressed his hand and Judith had sobbed bitterly, and clung to his neck with great persistence, until her mother removed her.
Nathaniel had visited his own mother's grave one last time and, in the evening, when it was growing dark, he had walked through the woods and stood by the river for a few minutes. There was only the cold, white snow over the quiet grave, and the cold grey of the half-frozen river, with the two stones on its bank, to return his farewell to the two people he had loved the most.
Early the next morning, the Darcy carriage arrived at his door. Nathaniel insisted on sitting with the coachman, though Darcy had no objection to his riding inside. Three hours in a carriage with Mr. Darcy was not something Nathaniel felt he had the resolution to bear just now. If Georgiana should be mentioned…
He left Pemberley and his heart behind.
When the carriage reached Matlock, Nathaniel did not accompany Darcy to the great house. It had been decided that his first meeting with his potential employer would be delayed for the present, since Lord Matlock would be occupied all day in York.
Thus, Nathaniel was set down before the steward's house and left to explore it alone. It was empty now, devoid of the childish laughter which had filled it during the years of the Bartlett's residence. It was a fine house, well-built with spacious rooms, but lonely and hollow. His steps echoed despondently on the bare wood floors as he walked. Echoes of things that were and things that might have been.
Darcy continued on to the Great House, where Richard and Kitty awaited him. Richard was very quiet, and the handshake he offered his cousin and closest friend was accompanied by a long and serious look. Kitty was white with apprehension, but she managed to greet Darcy with a drawn smile and offer him some refreshments before he must spend another four hours in a carriage, traveling to York where the court was being held.
Just before their departure, Kitty ran upstairs to the nursery one final time. When she descended the stairs again her eyes were red and her cheeks were wet, but she held her head high and nodded firmly to the gentlemen's unspoken question as to whether she was ready. The question was unspoken for the simple reason that neither Richard or Darcy was in full possession of his voice just then.
The courtroom was crowded, perhaps more so than usual, for a case to settle a dispute between the nobility was highly unusual in comparison to the far more common criminal trials.
There were seats reserved for the Matlocks and Mr. Darcy and they sat down amid the stares of the onlookers.
A little over ten minutes later, Lady Ashton entered, leaning on Mr. Gangridge's arm. She paused and bowed to Richard and Kitty as she passed by them on her way to her seat across the room, and Richard and Darcy rose and returned the bow. Mr. Gangridge was forced to stop when Lady Ashton stopped, but he offered no salutation of his own.
The High Court Judge entered and took his seat upon the dais. The jury was already assembled, and a moment later, the court was called to order and the case was announced.
"This court has been called upon to determine who has legal and moral right to the guardianship of Miss Farley, only daughter and heiress of the late Lord Farley, son and heir of the late Earl of Ashton. The child's paternal grandmother, The Right Honorable Lady Ashton, contests the right of the child's second cousin, The Right Honorable Lord Matlock, to the child's guardianship."
At the command of the judge, Lady Ashton's barrister, a Mr. Bolter, rose and began his opening statement. "Two years ago, Lord Matlock took the guardianship of Miss Farley upon himself without having the lawful right to do so, and, as I will proceed to show, with naught but his own interests at heart. Lady Ashton, despite having ample reason to feel bitterness towards the Matlocks, is only concerned for her granddaughter's safety and therefore asks for nothing more than that the court be just, and rule that the child may come and remain in her home, where she rightfully belongs."
Mr. Stanton, the barrister whom Richard had engaged, rose to speak. "I will refute the charges you have placed at Lord Matlock's door in good time. I would like to begin by pointing out that he does indeed have a right, both legal and moral, to the child's care. Miss Farley's mother, Lady Farley, requested on her death bed that her cousin, Lord Matlock, take her daughter to raise as his own. Such a touching request cannot help but hold weight with the court. If the child's own mother considered Lord Matlock to be the right choice for her child's protector, how can we presume to know better?"
Mr. Bolter broke in, "This is a court room, sir. A mother's feelings, however tender, can hold no real weight here."
Kitty glanced at Lady Ashton. She was staring straight in front of her, rigid as a statue, her face expressionless. Mr. Gangridge, beside her, was sitting with folded arms, a slight, leering smile affixed to his face.
"I consider them to be a testimony on Lord Matlock's behalf," Mr. Stanton replied. "But his claim does not rest solely on the dying wish of his cousin. After Lady Farley's death, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, Miss Farley's maternal grandmother, signed a document officially conferring the rights of guardianship on Lord Matlock. It is witnessed by Fitzwilliam Darcy of Derbyshire. I have the document with me and request permission to present it to the court."
Permission was granted, the document was examined, and then Mr. Bolter rose to speak again. "I do not question the authenticity of this document," he began. "I do question its legality. Lady Catherine de Bourgh is no nearer a relative of the child than Lady Ashton. She did not have the right to sign over the child's guardianship to Lord Matlock without the permission of the then living Earl and Lady Ashton.
"You see gentlemen," he continued, now addressing the jury directly. "For the first two years of Miss Farley's life, Lord Matlock kept the knowledge of her existence a secret from her father's family. The Ashtons could not give their permission because they were never asked, nor even made aware that there was such a child."
The other lawyer responded coolly, "Which brings me to my second point. The permission of Lord Ashton was asked. A letter was sent by Lord Matlock acquainting him with all the particulars of the matter. He never responded. Does this not signify gross neglect on Lord Ashton's part, rather than on Lord Matlock's? To erase all doubt about the matter, the doctor who attended Lord Ashton in his final illness has testified that said illness did not show troubling signs until six months after the letter was sent. Thus, Lord Ashton's failing to respond cannot be attributed to declining health. What excuse is there then, for receiving such a letter and not acting upon it at once?"
Richard squeezed Kitty's hand.
Mr. Bolter replied, "The letter of which you speak never arrived. There is no mention of it in any of Lord Ashton's documents, neither can it be found among them."
"Nevertheless, it was sent. And thus, there is a possibility that Lord Ashton did receive it and chose not to share its contents with anyone, perhaps even to destroy it."
Richard glanced at his wife. Her eyes were fixed on something and he, following the line of her gaze, saw that she was staring at Mr. Gangridge with a sort of disturbed fascination.
She lifted her free hand and pointed. "Mr. Gangridge—when the letter was first mentioned—his hands started to twitch, as they seem to do when he is nervous."
Darcy, sitting on Richard's other side, was just able to catch Kitty's words, spoken as they were in a low, quiet voice. Mr. Gangridge still had the same, leering smile plastered on his face, but his hands were indeed twitching restlessly.
Although he told himself that there was little likelihood that there was a connection between the letter and Mr. Gangridge's uneasiness, Darcy set himself to watch the man carefully, determined to leave no stone unturned.
"Such claims can proceed no further then speculation. But in reality, the loss of the letter is of little importance," Mr. Bolter said dismissively. "What is more significant is that Lord Matlock sent one letter and then made no further efforts to contact the family. I am sure the court will find that the motives he had for doing so are as easily explained as they are far from honorable."
Here he paused for effect before beginning his narrative. "Lord Matlock has only very recently come into his title and property. Two years ago, he was a simple colonel, a younger son with no prospect of inheriting anything. After the death of his cousin, Anne Farley, Colonel Fitzwilliam convinced his aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, to give him the guardianship of the infant. This is as Mr. Stanton has said. But along with that responsibility, Colonel Fitzwilliam received complete and total charge of Rosings Park, the de Bourgh estate. One wonders why a then unmarried man would want to become guardian of an infant, but one does not have to think very hard to see what would be appealing to a poor Colonel about a free estate. One can easily see that he would not wish to lose the guardianship of the child to her other family when his prosperity depended on her property."
Richard's jaw was clenched tightly shut, but in every other way his face remained perfectly calm as the barrister sat down and his own lawyer stood up to speak.
"Lord Matlock had no knowledge that Lady Catherine de Bourgh would give him the management of Rosings Park when he accepted charge of the child from her dying mother."
"Were there any witnesses to the words of Lady Anne Farley to Lord Matlock regarding her child?"
"No. The lady passed away before witnesses could be summoned. But I call upon Lord Matlock to testify to her words. Will you, Lord Matlock, please step forward to the witness stand?"
Richard rose and made his way to the place beside the dais. He was sworn in, and then he stood, waiting his lawyer's questions.
"Lord Matlock, since you are your only witness in this case, I call upon you to disclose the truth before God and this court. Did Lady Farley say anything to you which would suggest that Rosings Park would be yours upon your acceptance of the child's guardianship?"
"She did not." Richard spoke clearly and calmly.
"Was it in your mind to gain the estate through the child?"
"It was not. It was Lady Catherine who first suggested the idea, three days after I had accepted the child's care from her mother."
"Do I have the court's permission to ask Lord Matlock a question?" Lady Ashton's lawyer queried. When he had received the desired approval, he addressed Richard, asking, "Were there any witnesses to the conversation between you and Lady Catherine de Bourgh?"
"I am a witness to that conversation."
Mr. Bolter spun around hastily, and all eyes turned to see an elderly woman, dressed sumptuously in furs and jewels, standing in the doorway of the courtroom.
"Lady Catherine," Richard was the first to break the silence. "How is it that you are here?"
"I heard of the shameful and false accusations brought against you and came as fast as I could to do what I can to refute them."
Darcy, sitting by Richard's vacant chair, bit back a smile. Would his aunt ever tire of making sudden and unexpected visitations?
Mr. Stanton took the unanticipated arrival in stride while Mr. Bolter was still gawking with the rest of the crowd. "Are you prepared to verify Lord Matlock's testimony on this matter?" he asked.
"I am." Lady Catherine walked over to the witness stand where Richard still stood.
"Aunt Catherine," he began in a low voice, so as not to be heard by all in the room. "This is most unexpected. But your arrival is most timely. I… I thank you for coming."
"You have nothing to thank me for," Lady Catherine said. "I was simply livid with rage when they told me what you were undergoing and what scandalous accusations have been brought against you." Her voice began to rise in volume and Richard remonstrated hastily.
"Hush, Aunt. The accusations are not so terrible as you suggest. The consequences of them… the consequences may be heartbreaking indeed."
Mr. Bolter interrupted, "My lord, I object to this private conversation."
Richard hesitated, but he knew it was wiser not to speak again, even if only to thank her, so he pressed her hand quickly and retired to his seat.
Lady Catherine stood in the place he had vacated and looked out almost scornfully at the crowd. She flicked an invisible piece of dust of the stand and then looked at Mr. Stanton expectantly.
The barrister waited until the clerk had assisted Lady Catherine in taking the oath and then he asked, "Were you indeed the first one to request that Lord Matlock take control of Rosings Park?"
"Of course I was. My nephew asked only for an allowance for my granddaughter, sufficient to allow her to be brought up as a gentlewoman. But I wished to remove to London, and thus I requested that he take on the care of Rosings as well as the care of the child."
"Thank you, Lady Catherine." The lawyer's smile was genuine. "Will you take a seat beside Mr. Darcy?"
Lady Catherine did as she was asked.
Lady Ashton's barrister had recovered by this time. He stepped forward and said briskly, "Whether or not Lord Matlock wished to gain the estate for himself at the very first, I am convinced that it was an inducement later on for making very little effort to make the child's existence known to her father's family."
"Sir," Mr. Stanton's voice was cold, "since that accusation suggests that Lord Matlock cares nothing for the child and only for her money, how do you explain the fact that he is here in court today, fighting for her, when he is now in possession of his own fortune and has no need of hers?" His voice became warmer and louder as he continued, "Does this not suggest the care and interest of a man who cares for and loves the child as his own rather than the actions of a greedy guardian only seeking his own gain?"
"The fact that he has no need of her fortune is no reason to suppose he does not wish to possess it. History is full of men who had incredible fortunes and still coveted more. Indeed, perhaps he even now has his mind set on a larger prize than Rosings Park. Who can say that it has not been in his mind all along to seize control of the Ashton estate on the death of her ladyship?"
Mr. Stanton looked inquiringly at Richard, who nodded once.
Turning back to face his adversary, Mr. Stanton said, "Lord Matlock has enabled me to make a proposition on his behalf. He is prepared to sign documents, stating that he will never interfere with or try to gain control of the Ashton estate. Lady Ashton may appoint a manager of her own choice, to direct all its affairs until Miss Farley is of age. But Miss Farley must remain under the sole care of the Matlocks."
Mr. Bolter turned to Lady Ashton, "We await your answer Madam."
Darcy, watching Mr. Gangridge, saw that gentleman's eyes start out of his head at Mr. Stanton's speech. Darcy was fully aware that the proposal was simply intended to show the court Richard's disinterest in the Ashton estate. He knew what Lady Ashton's reply would be, but he also saw that, had Mr. Gangridge been the one called upon to speak, the answer would have been very different than the one that now fell from Lady Ashton's lips.
She had risen, almost unsteadily to her feet and said, in as firm a voice as she could muster, "My reply is no, sir."
Darcy saw Mr. Gangridge fix his aunt with a look bordering on pure hatred. However little he could condone her selfishness in trying to take away a child from a family who loved her, Lady Ashton was a woman after all, and Darcy's brows drew together angrily at the contempt in her nephew's glare.
"There is your answer, and by it, Lady Ashton's concern and love for her granddaughter is doubly proven," Mr. Bolter said.
"It is true—what he says," Kitty whispered, and Richard, turning to look at her, saw that there were two tears running down her face.
"And," Mr. Bolter continued, "that the Matlocks wish to prevent her from sharing in Miss Farley's childhood is equally obvious by the terms they have given. Lady Ashton has been most unfairly used by them. Lord Matlock sent one letter only! And he cannot produce proof even for the existence of that."
Lady Catherine huffed angrily at the way in which Mr. Bolter had twisted Mr. Stanton's words back at him, but Darcy was again focused on Mr. Gangridge. The gentleman's hands had twitched again at the word "letter". Darcy's knitted brows raised thoughtfully.
But Mr. Bolter had not finished. He continued forcefully, "That such cruel deception was practiced against Lady Ashton, such that could allow her to remain in the dark to her grandchild's existence for a year and a half, is alone, without need for further searching, reason enough for her to demand that Miss Farley be taken from the Matlocks and given into her care."
Mr. Stanton paused, considering what to reply, but before he could, the judge banged on the gavel. All eyes were instantly upon him.
"We have heard enough today gentlemen," he said in his ponderous voice."This case will be reopened in two days' time on the ninth of December, the year of Our Lord 1817."
"Allow me to say a few more words, my lord," Mr. Stanton requested.
"Request denied. This case is closed until the date specified."
Mr. Stanton bowed. Mr. Gangridge smiled.
The tense knot that had rested in Kitty's stomach all day tightened still more. She looked desperately towards the jury, hoping to catch a look of sympathy on at least one face. But the hour was growing late, it was the last case of the day, and most seemed simply eager to leave the courtroom and return to their homes. Her thoughts in a turmoil and her legs shaking with the strain of the day, she rose and allowed Richard to guide her out of the building and to their waiting carriage.
Darcy, realizing that Kitty and Richard would very likely wish to be alone after such an ordeal, and out of genuine gratitude for her aid, performed an act of heroic charity and rode back to Matlock with Lady Catherine in her carriage.
She talked relentlessly of how shocking she found the whole matter to be, and when she had worn out that subject after a mere two hours, she began a seemingly endless narration about her many London acquaintances. Darcy's sacrifice extended only so far as listening, and not to making conversation in return. He was quiet and thoughtful all the way home, only speaking when it was necessary to respond to her enquiries about the family at Pemberley, and even then his answers were brief and somewhat distant.
It was after sunset when the weary party arrived at Matlock. Lady Catherine retired immediately to a guest room, and Darcy did likewise. The aunt slept soundly in her room, tired out at last from her long day of travel, but the nephew sat by his fire for a long time, staring into it. He had promised Kitty that her daughter would not be taken from her while he or any who loved her had ought to say about it. He must keep his word. He could not sleep until some solution had been found. He stared into the fire as if he hoped it might give him the answer. Perhaps it did.
Richard went to his study and worked doggedly away at business letters for half an hour, before throwing down his pen and heading upstairs.
He went to first to the nursery and stopped beside James, smiling a little despite his heavy heart as he gazed upon the cherubic countenance of his sleeping son. Then he crossed the room to Cathy's little bed. Her curls were a tumbled mess about her little face, and one arm was flung out wide, as was her wont in sleep.
He was reminded, as he had been often of late, of the moment when he first saw her. She had been so tiny, so helpless. She had been fatherless, soon to be motherless. He had reached out and she had grasped his finger and held tight. And in that instant, he had loved her. And he had promised her, in his heart, that, while he drew breath, she should never be fatherless again. He could not break that promise now.
Kitty prepared for bed, and then lay down to try and sleep, but every time she closed her eyes the courtroom glowed before her, and her ears rang with the loud murmuring of remembered fragments of speech. She bore it for ten minutes and then rose and began to pace the room restlessly. She felt trapped in her own mind. There were too many thoughts, and too much pain lurking just behind them.
Impatiently, she crossed the room to the door of the balcony attached to her chamber and threw it open. She stepped out into the cold night and looked out over the silver lines which made up the frosty landscape, illuminated as it was by a full moon. The moon lit up her figure too, as she stood there, ghostlike in her white gown. She leaned her elbows on the marble balustrade and let her tired head rest in her hands. Gradually, the peace of the night stilled the swirling thoughts in her mind, and she began to weep quietly, letting the pain wash over her, hot tears rolling down her pale cheeks and dropping through her fingers onto the balustrade and to the ground far below. The only sound that of a mother's heart breaking.
She heard a noise behind her, and Richard's arm closed around her waist.
"Kitty, you'll catch your death of cold."
He pulled her inside, closing the door firmly and drawing the heavy curtains together to ward off any drafts.
"What were you thinking Kitty?"
He turned to her protectively, expecting to find her penitent, steeling himself to find her crying, but though tears were indeed shining on her cheeks, she was smiling through them. For as she had stood there in the winter night, everything had fallen away and the truth had shone clear like a beacon before her, and now she knew without a doubt what she must do.
Head, hand, and heart were in place. They needed only to wait for the morning.