A/N: Anybody wondering if this is a 100% Lizzy Bennet story? It's not, although it will be over half from her POV. Let's check in with the Master of Pemberley.

Wade


"Lady Catherine de Bourgh is here, sir."

"Thank you, Clarke. Please put her in the Blue Parlor, serve her refreshments and tell her I am presently engaged in crucial business, but will attend her within the hour."

Aaron Clarke, who normally acted as the most staid and unperturbable butler that ever lived, gave a small chuckle. "Yes, sir, I can see you are engaged."

Admittedly, butlers were generally known for their staid and unflappable countenance, but since the young Fitzwilliam Darcy had spent considerably more time riding around on the shoulders of the man that would one day become his London butler than his own father, they enjoyed a camaraderie that was quite different from the usual master/servant roles. Of course, not a single person in the world, save his two equally important housekeepers, his cousin Fitzwilliam or his friend Charles Bingley were aware of the fact.

With a last smile and even something approaching a wave, Mr. Clarke went to do his bidding.

It was true that Fitzwilliam Darcy had been working like a galley slave from dawn to midnight for the previous fortnight, as he had much to do while preparing for both his upcoming nuptials, and his lengthy absence from England. The Master of Pemberley wanted to leave nothing to chance, not the least of which was the problem of making certain his sister was well taken care of, his estate was well taken care of, his family did not finish its act of ritual suicide while he was gone; and his new wife would not cause him too much trouble during his absence. The release of Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam was expected to take months of tedious negotiations, where Napoleon and his courtiers would try every trick, dirty or otherwise, that they could come up with, to squeeze out some advantage. They would learn sooner or later that they had the actual heir, and not just a doubly superfluous spare long before it was done, and they would make Darcy pay for that. He only hoped that the price was something his family could afford.

However, at that very moment, the master had been sitting by the fire with his feet up on an ottoman enjoying a quiet lunch and brief half‑hour reading poetry. His house slippers were strewn on the floor, his cravat was undone and his waistcoat astride a chair. Clarke knew that the master could make himself presentable in about 2 minutes but jumping to Lady Catherine's bidding was not to the master's taste, so she could just wait until he was done with his meal and bored with his book.

Exactly 56 minutes later, Darcy gave a great sigh, stood up, rearranged his clothing to its usual impeccable state (more or less), and decided to just brace the dragon and get it over with.

At 59 minutes since the entry of Clarke, Darcy entered the parlor. "Aunt, what brings you here?"

Lady Catherine was a tall, large woman, with strongly-marked features, which might once have been handsome, but presently had an even bigger scowl than was customary – although her usual countenance was not something to be taken lightly. She gave her hand to her nephew, and he gave the most minimal approximation of bowing over it that he could manage, while she started speaking without any preamble or preliminaries.

"You kept me waiting long enough, Nephew. I have been waiting a full hour for you to attend me. You cannot possibly have been doing something that could not be deferred."

Darcy looked at her carefully. "Wait here a moment if you would please, Aunt."

Without another word, he walked out of the parlor, and a moment later, Lady Catherine heard the front door open and remain open for over a minute, before closing. A few moments later, Darcy returned to his place, his cheeks red from the cold.

He said, "My apologies, Aunt, I had to check to be certain. A glance from the lane has confirmed that we are presently in Darcy house. The key word there is 'Darcy', which means that I set the rules. You came without notice or invitation, so you can take your chances on my availability."

The lady gasped at the sheer, affrontery of her nephew refusing to kowtow to her wishes, and that was even leaving aside the matter of the supreme impertinence shown by the stunt of walking outside to belabor his point.

She opened her mouth to deliver a setdown, but Darcy forestalled her. "Once again, Aunt – what brings you here? I am rather busy, so if it is a social call, I fear it must be deferred."

The lady gave a ferocious frown, but decided it was time to get on with it, so she said, "You can be at no loss, Nephew, to understand the reason of my journey hither. Your own heart, your own conscience, must tell you why I come."

Darcy knew perfectly well why his aunt was there but was not presently in a humor to do her work for her.

"Indeed, you are mistaken, Madam. I have not been at all able to account for the honour of seeing you here."

"Nephew," replied her ladyship, in an angry tone. "you ought to know, that I am not to be trifled with. But however insincere you may choose to be, you shall not find me so. My character has ever been celebrated for its sincerity and frankness, and in a cause of such moment as this, I shall certainly not depart from it. A report of a most alarming nature reached me two days ago. I was told that not only were you outright refusing to do your duty with respect to your family, but that some young trollop, a Miss Elizabeth Bennet, would, in all likelihood, be soon afterwards united to my own nephew. Though I know it must be a scandalous falsehood, though I would not injure you so much as to suppose the truth of it possible, I instantly resolved on setting off for this place, that I might make my sentiments known to you."

Darcy thought that if he was in better humor he might go gently on his imperious aunt, but at that moment, he was fresh out of patience. However, since his friends Bingley and Richard had told him a hundred times that he needed to be a bit more playful, he thought to give it a go.

"If you believed it impossible to be true – I wonder you took the trouble of coming so far. What could your ladyship propose by it?"

"At once to insist upon having such a report universally contradicted."

"Your coming to London will be rather a confirmation of it; if, indeed, such a report is in existence."

"If! Do you then pretend to be ignorant of it? I have a firsthand report, directly from my rector, who was present for the debacle. I know it all. You were caught in a trap of your own devising, and I insist on knowing all the particulars so I can help you extract yourself."

Having had his share of amusement, and feeling a bit tired of his officious aunt intruding on his business, he answered angrily.

"I do not pretend to possess equal frankness with your ladyship. You may ask questions which I shall not choose to answer."

"This is not to be borne. Nephew, I insist on being satisfied. Have you made her an offer of marriage?"

Finally, just wishing to get the conversation over, Darcy said, "Yes, I have. The proposal has been made and accepted. I am to be wed on the twenty‑third of December."

With a gasp, Lady Catherine said, "I never! How could you do so without consulting your own relatives?"

"I did consult my own relatives and examined every possible way to escape the connection. Normally, I could just walk away with little material damage to my own and my family's reputation, but in this case it was impossible. Miss Elizabeth Bennet will be Mrs. Darcy, whether any of us want her or not. The die is cast, Aunt."

Slamming her teacup down, the lady said, "Heaven and earth!–of what are you thinking? Are the shades of Pemberley to be thus polluted?"

Darcy snapped, "Yes, they are – although I completely fail to understand how the shades of Pemberley are any of your business."

"What about your betrothal to my daughter? Is she to be tossed aside without even a by-your-leave?"

Darcy, starting to become frightfully short on good temper, backed away from his aunt and sat down on a chair a few feet away, at what he considered to be the optimal distance to prevent himself from doing something ungentlemanly.

"You know perfectly well you made up that whole thing, Aunt. What was it you said, 'While in their cradles, we planned the union', which, as you perfectly well know, is absolute nonsense? To start with, our cradle days were separated by three years. In the second place, did you know I read Mother's journals?"

The lady gasped, but Darcy continued without pause.

"Mother consumed fully two pages describing a particularly ugly set of baby clothes you gifted to me, which she naturally burned as soon as you left. She once spent half a page talking about the wildflowers in the southern fields. She spent a good thirty pages on her rose garden. In all this writing, does it seem reasonable that she would omit entirely a discussion of a betrothal with her sister. I think not!"

Darcy could see that his aunt was seething, looking for another opening, but he was not in much of a humor to indulge her.

"Let me ask you something, Aunt. What does Anne want in a husband? Have you ever even asked her?"

"She wants you, and even if she did not, she will do her duty."

"So, her duty is to spend the rest of her life with a man she does not particularly like, just to make up for your defects in the last two decades of managing Rosings? You think you can use the Pemberley coffers to make up for your own excess?"

Nearly spitting angrily, Lady Catherine slapped the arm of her chair. "How dare you?"

Darcy, equally angry, slapped his own chair. "I dare because my family matters to me. If it did not, I would not have endured Easters at Rosings these last ten years, trying and failing to bring your spending down to the level that you can afford, despite an abundance of willful excess. Let me ask you something, Aunt. When did it become my responsibility to solve all the problems of this family?"

Confused, the lady said, "What do you mean, Nephew? Explain yourself."

"Gladly. Do you know why I had to offer for Miss Elizabeth Bennet, Aunt? Have you any idea what the last straw was?"

"I would if you would speak in plain English instead of riddles."

"Fine!", Darcy spit out, then trying to calm himself, he continued, "As I said, according to you, and Uncle Hough, and everyone else – I am the man that has to fix just about everything in the Darcy, Fitzwilliam and de Bourgh families. Malcolm has the French Disease and will die soon, so we need the heir, who is currently a prisoner in Paris back – my problem! Over the last six months the viscount has gambled away an enormous amount of money that Uncle Hough did not catch soon enough, even enough to break the Matlock finances – my problem. The son of my father's steward is trying his best to sink our family's reputation because I will not support his profligate lifestyle – my problem. My aunt, who should have known better, borrowed far more than she can repay from a disreputable lender – my problem. Miss Bennet is the daughter of an insignificant country squire who could not be bothered to teach his progeny, except for the two eldest, basic manners; nor teach his wife not to entrap young men – my problem. And that is just the start of it. I have worked from before dawn to after midnight for the last fortnight, trying to arrange things so something will be left of this family and its holdings when I return, and I have to defer this important business to listen to you rave incoherently – my problem!"

Lady Catherine gasped, and started to reply, but Darcy held up his hand to forestall whatever tirade she was planning.

"The last straw, Aunt, and I mean truly the very last straw, was the loan you took out to redo your gardens and build a folly. A folly! Those were a stupid idea when they were in fashion, and they have been out of fashion for years. The only thing a folly has to recommend it, is the fact that it is the most perfectly named extravagance in the world. Folly indeed. I might have managed everything else, but that was the end of it. You have no idea how precarious your financial position is because you will not listen to anyone. The Earl had no idea how precarious his position was because he could not be bothered to check his eldest son. All of this has landed on my head, because I care, though I wonder why."

Darcy paused for a second, then sat forward in his chair, staring at his aunt, and trying to get her to understand.

"Understand this, Aunt – I am marrying Elizabeth Bennet because of you. I would not have just abandoned her to her fate, as I am a gentleman, and if our family's reputation been pristine, another way could have been found; but marriage was the only option that would not allow the vultures to descend on the family. I am marrying because of you."

The lady was sitting gasping and staring, not quite certain whether to lash out or listen, although listening was never her strong suit.

Darcy leaned forward, and tapped her knee most impertinently, saying, "This is important, Aunt. Let us dispense with my nuptials, which are now cast in stone. Instead, let us return to my previous question that you blithely ignored. What does Anne want? More importantly, what does she need?"

"She needs to do her duty to her estate, and she wants to marry you."

Darcy just shook his head, unable to deal with such obstinacy, and asked, "Aunt, did you imagine that Anne and I never discussed this, all these years? I can understand your tendency to do so, because we did not – until a few months ago. I was always afraid you might stage a compromise, so I always had a male cousin with me to watch my back while at Rosings."

Catherine made no effort to contradict her nephew, rightly supposing that was water under the bridge.

"All right, Nephew – you have my attention. What does Anne want or need, in your opinion?"

Darcy leaned back a bit. "What she wants is simple. I already fulfilled her first need, and it was easier than you might think."

"Which was?"

"She wanted someone to listen to her and try to understand her point of view. Much to my shame, it took me a decade to do so, but I did eventually."

"All right! So, you listened to her whining. Shall I give you a sweet?"

Darcy just shook his head in frustration. "It is not whining, Aunt, and you know it. She is the least complaining person I know."

"All right, so what did she want?"

"She wanted to get married."

Lady Catherine gasped. "Why did you not say so? We can arrange to get rid of this Miss Bennet somehow. My rector was intending to marry one of the Bennet girls, and he will follow instructions. He can have her, and you will be free to marry Anne. Your reputation will be restored when we explain it. So long as both you and Miss Bennet are married, we can work on why it is not to each other."

Darcy sighed. "Lady Catherine, Anne does not want to be married to me. She says we are, and I quote, 'both dour, bad tempered, shy and aloof individuals'. She states, and I must agree, that the two of us married would multiply our bad characteristics, because they overlap so much. She needs someone who has strength where she has weakness, and vice-versa."

Lady Catherine harrumphed. "I can see you are working your way up to some sort of surprise. Get on with it!"

Darcy nodded. "What Anne wants is simple. She wants a husband who is generally happy, content and of a cheerful and amiable disposition. It does not matter if he is slightly less serious than a gentleman should be, because she has seriousness to spare."

"Is that all?"

"No, just the beginning. She wants a man who is cheerful all or most of the time. She wants a man who is flexible – not so set in his ways that he is immune to amendment. She thinks that her upbringing was so constrained that she does not even know what possibilities life holds for her, so she wants a man flexible enough to explore their options and work it out in a mutual partnership."

Lady Catherine huffed. "That sounds frivolous to me. If she wants to do that, she can go to town and fend for herself."

Darcy sighed. "No, Aunt, that is not all. She hates to see the estate that was her father's and grandfather's and great-grandfather's being run into the ground. I showed her your finances, in quite some detail, and it pains her to see it all being wasted."

"I do not see how that is any of your business."

"And yet, you want me to assist you every Easter. Whether it is my business or not, may I finish?"

The lady nodded in bad tempered agreement.

Darcy continued, "She would like to fix Rosings. Have you looked at Sir Louis' will lately?"

Lady Catherine gasped, but then shook her head.

"It says that Rosings passes to Anne on her twenty‑fifth birthday if she is married, or her thirtieth if not."

Lady Catherine growled. "If you had married her, it would all be yours now. It is still not too late."

"You are right and wrong, Aunt, but I digress. Let me tell you the rest of Anne's wishes."

"If you must."

"She would like a husband who is kind. That is her most important characteristic, and to be honest, I am not a naturally kind man. For a certain, I am dutiful. I take care of my estate, my tenants, the local villagers and even the poor. I see that that my community prospers, and all is done as a gentleman ought – but I am not generally a kind person. You and I share the Fitzwilliam kindness defect. I am trying to learn to do better, and perhaps my new wife will somehow help me with that, but it is a struggle for me, while it comes as naturally as breathing for some."

Catherine grumbled, but was prevented from asking any more, because she was trying to work out what in the world her nephew was getting at.

"But enough of that, back to Anne. If you recall, she wants a husband who is kind, courteous and amiable. It would help if he is a man accustomed to living with disagreeable woman, since there seem to be a surfeit of them at Rosings, and she is not inclined to ship her mother off to the dower house unless she becomes desperate – Anne's words, not mine, Aunt!"

Lady Catherine just growled.

"And, since she would like to save her ancestral home, well, it would be nice to have a husband with money."

Catherine growled again and asked, "What are you getting at, Darcy?"

Unperturbed, he said, "Let me ask you something, Aunt. Take yourself out of the question for a moment and think realistically about Anne's desires. She is an admittedly somewhat sickly girl, although I believe she will grow out of that as soon as she is not coddled. She wants a man with money. With the size and scope of the hold in Rosings finances, it needs to be a man with real money. So, let me ask – what would a man with that kind of finance want with Anne?"

Lady Catherine at least had the grace to give the question it's due, and finally, after several minutes, said, "It sounds like you are describing a man with new money. A banker, or tradesman or something like that. He would want Rosings, even if it did consume all his capital, because he would move directly into the landed gentry. He will naturally assume he can make it profitable. His children would be considered gentlemen. If he bought an estate without a high‑status wife, it might take two or three generations, but by marrying Anne, he could speed the process …"

With a gasp, the lady's ears finally caught up with what her mouth was saying, and she gasped, grabbed her chest with her fists. "What have you done, Darcy?"

"I have not done anything Aunt, aside from introducing two people and getting out of their way. I happened to know a man who met all her criteria, who had recently been disappointed in 'love' to the extent that he gave up on the idea altogether. He resolved that a wealthy man could not depend on such fleeting emotions, since he was as likely to be taken advantage of as not."

Much to his surprise, Lady Catherine jumped to her feet as if she might run out the door, grabbing a battle axe on the way. "I repeat – what have you done?"

Darcy stood up to meet her, stared her in the face and said, "I have done nothing. On the other hand, Anne, who is well past her age of majority has taken charge of her own life."

"What do you mean?"

Darcy glanced at the clock. "If things went to plan, as of 23 minutes ago, Rosings has a new master. You might want to return to Kent to welcome the happy couple, Charles and Anne Bingley."

The lady gasped in shock leaned forward. "You are like a snake in the grass, Darcy. You have destroyed this family. You will taint Rosings with the son of a tradesman!"

Not to be intimidated, Darcy said, "Where do you think that last loan you took came from, Lady Catherine. You are using trade money to build nonsense on the estate. My friend will use trade money to restore the estate to what it should be. Your pretensions do you no good. You would be best served by getting on his good side, but since he has a sister that is just a younger version of yourself, I am certain he has the skills to weather any storm."

She hissed, "You are just like all the rest. You think a woman cannot think for herself."

Darcy calmly replied, "To the contrary, Aunt. I find little difference between the sexes when I think rationally. Anne can think for herself quite well and has taken charge of her life. She is late to the game but making a courageous choice and I applaud her for it. Georgiana has made a few girlish mistakes, but she is much smarter now than anybody gives her credit for. Aunt Margaret is twice as capable as Uncle Hough, and the less said about the soon to be departed viscount, the better. Even my future wife, as much as I despise the circumstances of our marriage, is cleverer in many areas than most of the men I went to Cambridge with. I have no strong opinion about male vs. female – but I do have an opinion about clever vs. stupid. I am entirely fed up with the latter, including my own, and anxiously awaiting evidence of the former."

Lady Catherine hissed, "You will pay for this. I shall not recognize you."

Darcy calmly said, "So be it, Aunt. I will be gone for months, but when I return, you are welcome to reestablish contact any time you like."

With a growl, the lady called loudly for the butler, asked for her carriage, and left, running as fast as possible to see if she could somehow disrupt the abomination that apparently had already happened at Rosings.

Darcy shook his head, wondering if he had finally managed to move one problem off his plate and onto his friend Bingley's. He could only hope!

It suddenly occurred to him that he was, in a small way, happy he was getting married. He could not in any way imagine how insufferable the level of fawning would be for Caroline Bingley once her brother was master of such a significant estate.

With a grim chuckle, he returned to his desk and his toil, wishing to ensure that everything was done properly for a voyage of three to six months, or the slim possibility he would not be back at all. Traveling into a war zone was never a capital idea.