A/N: This is the penultimate chapter, leading to the big finish. No more evil cliffys ;) Nobody figured out the antagonist, meaning I left breadcrumbs that were too subtle, or maybe it was because I didn't figure it out myself until yesterday (or rather, I switched from one to another). Enjoy.
"You seem to have the right of it, Miss Bennet."
Everyone in the room gasped, and looked up to see the speaker who must be responsible for this atrocity.
"Oh, dear"
"Louisa, how can you possibly be involved in such an underhanded scheme, without me?"
"Relax Caroline, you're involved now. I didn't involve you at first because I didn't think you had the stomach to do what needs to be done, and frankly, you just can't keep your mouth shut. Besides that, you're pretty much a Pig-widgeon, so you would have ruined the plan somehow."
As usual, the last half of the sentence sailed well over Caroline's head.
"Very well. What needs to be done?"
"You're going to marry Mr. Darcy of course?"
Caroline gasped in obvious surprise and pleasure and started dancing around the room in giddy pleasure like a monkey, although to be truthful, the full import of her sister's words had not quite sunk in yet, and given her overall intellect, might never do so.
Lady Catherine commented, "Miss Bingley, if you're going to dance like a monkey, please at least choose a different breed. I already have a lock on that one. Oh, and you could use an organ grinder as well."
Elizabeth responded to this announcement by grabbing the aforementioned coffeepot, planning to hurl it at Mrs. Hurst. She was unfortunately prevented by the entrance of at least six of the newer rougher looking breed of highwaymen that had appeared recently. When one of them gave her a look just daring her to step out of line while he absently played with the scariest looking knife she'd ever seen, she demurred. By scariest, she didn't mean it was scary because of its size, weight, shape, quality or construction; nor did she mean the skill the ruffian displayed while he played with it. No, it looked deadly because it was absolutely filthy. It looked like it had been soaked in the dead carcasses of the buzzards from chapter 11 for a month, and then left in a chamber pot for a week. No, she wasn't going up against that knife unless she boiled it for an hour first, and that really didn't seem like the best plan for escape when you got right down to it.
Darcy was barely restraining himself, but his ruffians came in pairs, and both of them had swords drawn. Barehanded the bull might have been tempted to take on one of them, and the bear might take on both if alone. Neither bear nor bull though was willing to risk life and limb of the ladies in the room. There would be other opportunities, but he was stuck now. They appeared to be in a bit of a pickle.
Darcy decided to get to the bottom of it.
"And just why exactly do you think I'll marry this snake?"
"Because your little Hertfordshire chit along with her aunt and sister, and your Aunt Catherine will be held at sword point at different places by twenty of my men during the ceremony, and it will be the men that are not only willing to use their weapons, but aren't the most interested in hygiene. I'm not taking any chances. You'll say the vows and sign the papers all right!"
"What papers?"
"Fear not Mr. Darcy, I have them right here. Don't worry, they're nothing too alarming… Just asset transfers. We'll start with little Georgiana's dowry, and then your ready cash, then what you can mortgage. Fear not, you may work your way back to even in a decade."
"But why? What do you hope to gain? And what makes you think my uncle or I won't hire men to hunt you down and kill you in your sleep?"
"Because you're going to transfer enough assets to insure that we're protected before I release the Bennet girls. We'll keep both her and her sister under close guard for at least two months until the transaction is complete. After that, you can do as you like, as we'll be beyond your reach."
"How so?"
"We'll be emigrating to one of the colonies, and we'll keep a security that you don't dare disclose. Should I meet an untimely demise, very bad things will happen."
"But you still haven't explained why?"
"Because, frankly Mr. Darcy, we're bankrupt. You've seen my husband. He's the most industrious man in his family. I can't leech off my brother forever."
"Why not?"
"He's nearly bankrupt too, but just doesn't know it. He's not really the sharpest knife in the drawer, although he may be the cleanest. He'll be out of money by year's end. He can't even pay Caroline's dowry, as I spent it last year. That's why she has to be married before I leave."
That explained a lot. It wasn't particularly surprising that a Bingley woman was avaricious, conniving, scheming, duplicitous, underhanded, treacherous or some combination of the above; or maybe all of them. That was business as usual and altogether unremarkable. That one of them was effective, that was new.
"And what about me?" asked Annie.
"That's the best part. That's why we've been waiting in the woods all this time. I needed more men, and your groom."
"My groom?"
"Yes. You're going to marry Mr. Wickham, and he will transfer funds from Rosings to me similar to Darcy, although I don't know that he'll be quite as good a husband to you as Darcy will be to Caroline."
"Don't count on it. She may die mysteriously in her sleep."
"I wouldn't recommend it Mr. Darcy. We still have ample information to completely ruin you, both personally and financially; and I will retain enough ruthless henchmen to exact any revenge on the rest of the Bennet sisters. Unless you want Pemberley and your beloved's family to disappear entirely, you must have an heir with her. You can have your Miss Bennet back as a mistress after I leave if you like."
"Darcy turned white as a Polar Bear at the thought."
"What do you mean to you? Don't you mean to your husband?"
"Not really. He's dead. I smothered him in his bed last night. I'm my own mistress now."
All right, this was bad. This was very bad. It was one man, four young ladies and one dowager against one batshit crazy woman and sixty armed men.
"Do you mean to tell me you murdered your own husband?"
"Come now Darcy, he wasn't really that much of a husband."
"How can you say that?"
"Mr. Darcy. If I had smothered him on the couch at Netherfield while you were flirting with Miss Elizabeth, how long would it have taken you to notice?"
"I suppose it depends on whether you disposed of the body or not. If you left him in the drawing room, I imagine it would take a week for him to start smelling."
"And suppose I buried him in Miss Elizabeth's favorite path in the garden."
"I'm not sure favorite is the right word. She just liked the gardens at Netherfield because they were mostly Darcy and Bingley free."
"Work with me on this one. Suppose I'd buried him in the garden."
"I probably would never have noticed, unless you tracked dirt in during the process or left an obvious grave in the middle of the path."
"My point exactly, Mr. Darcy."
Darcy was amazed by this exchange, although he couldn't say what was more alarming, that he was having a discussion with a confessed murderer; that she was going to force him to marry an orange wombat; or the sheer ridiculousness of the discussion.
As Mrs. Hurst started giving orders for everyone to get to the coaches for the trip to Gretna Green, Darcy noticed that the crazy conversation did serve one purpose. While he was talking with the crazy woman, he noticed the Dread Pirate Jimmy quietly move across the room to a writing desk, where he did something quite curious. He took a quill, mended it surprisingly well and handed it to Anne de Bourgh. Curiouser and Curiouser! What did it mean? He was completely baffled until both Bear and Wolf caught the look in Anne's eyes as she took the quill, then it all became clear. She was looking at him with the look that meant she was going to sketch him, and he had just given permission.
It looked like it was going to be four ladies, one dowager and two men against one batshit crazy woman and sixty armed men. This he could work with.