"Ah, there goes the man of the hour. Cheers to my brother, the savior of the England!" Frederick, Baron Dunvarr, raised his half-finished brandy just as Colonel Fitzwilliam walked in. The small library at Matlock House was not particularly well-furnished as libraries went, but it was more than adequate as a private club of sorts for the three cousins.
Darcy nodded at the colonel just as the latter sat down across the other two men with a sheepish smile.
"Must you always mock me, brother?" Richard chuckled. He reached for his own glass. "It is not my fault that I seek to fill my life with purpose."
"You wound me with your implications."
"Hardly. Your purpose is to marry and carry on Father's title, which I have been informed you intend to do the very next year with Lady Harriett."
"I live with as much purpose as a breeding horse," Frederick muttered.
Darcy chuckled, his own drink in hand. "Last I heard, you rather fancied Lady Harriett."
"She is easy enough on the eyes and not entirely dimwitted," Frederick admitted. "It helped speed up the courtship, of course, that her father was rather eager to marry her off given that he'd produced a row of six daughters before siring his heir."
"What if Lady Harriett takes just as long to sire your heir?"
Frederick shrugged his shoulders. "Then I shall hope that it is a pleasant enough endeavor to make said children with her."
Darcy and Richard shook their heads at Frederick's resigned tone even as they chuckled. Both younger men knew that Frederick liked Lady Harriett well enough, but one supposed it would not be considered manly for the baron to swoon too openly over his future bride.
"And what of you, Darce?" Frederick chose to divert the attention. "When shall we see you marched down the aisle? With Richard sworn to his spying duties, I can only count on you to join me in the happy state of matrimonial bondage. A nobleman needs a fellow to commiserate."
Again, the younger man responded with wry grins.
"How many times must I correct you?" said Richard. "I am not a spy."
"A spy, an intelligence officer - what does it matter?" Frederick waved his glass in the air. "Although why the Home Office would choose to employ a man as loquacious as you baffles me to this day. Do they not fear that you would betray their secrets?"
"On the contrary, brother mine, they trust my affability to draw out the secrets of others." Richard smiled. "When one is gifted with amiability, one might as well put it to good use."
"I am surprised you do not consider flirting with every debutante until she blushes good enough use."
"Again, I am not you, or Darcy here. My sole purpose in life is not to marry and multiply."
Darcy shook his head with a smile. His parents' difficulties with having children had prevented him from ever having a brother of his own, but at least his cousins filled the void nicely enough.
"I never said that was my purpose," Darcy clarified before taking another sip.
"Oh, but our dear female acquaintances - and their mothers - might beg to differ." Richard teased. "Where is Mother today? Perhaps I might yet convince her to include a few of her goddaughters to her house party next month."
"Don't you dare!" Darcy growled. "I denied my friend Bingley's invitation to Hertfordshire for the sake of the gathering, but I may yet change my mind."
"Still upset about what Miss Thorntrop tried last year?" Richard, the rascal, chuckled openly. "She never did manage to get into your room."
"Only because I had the door locked."
"Don't forget Miss Gallaway," Frederick added, very unhelpfully. "The poor dear ran rather quickly to Darcy once I'd made it clear that I was already courting another."
"Even though you were not," said Richard.
Frederick rolled his shoulders again. "I might have been. I seem to always be courting someone unintentionally. All it takes is an introduction and a smile."
Darcy threw his hands in the air. "It is a wonder Lady Harriett tolerates you."
For the first time all morning, Frederick cracked a smile. "I am lucky she does, although not without stringent promises. It is for her sake alone that Mother has promised not to include any single ladies next month, given that Harriett herself would be unable to attend."
"Thank the Lord for Lady Harriett." Darcy raised his glass.
"I have good reason to stay away from the marriage mart, but I doubt you do, Darce."
"I dislike associating with strangers."
"Not all strangers are bad," said Richard.
"You, of all people, must understand how many guilty secrets the ton harbors."
It was Richard's turn to shrug. "A few rotten eggs does not have me decrying food altogether."
"After what Wickham had tried at Ramsgate this summer." Darcy sighed and shook his head. "I wonder if I can even trust those I have always known."
"You trust too little."
"And you trust too much."
"And both of you," said Frederick, "drink too little. Come now, were we not just raising a glass to my lovely fiancée?"
With another round of wry smiles, the two younger men complied.
"Oh what shall become of us?" Mama sobbed loudly as the five women - four sisters, one parent - alighted at the Philips residence. Their carriage rolled away, never more to serve them. Mr. Collins, the new owner of Longbourn, was set to take over the place by tomorrow, and his reportedly shrewd wife had commanded the previous occupants out before the couple and their child would arrive. "My sister may tolerate us now, but what happens in a month's time? Or two?"
"There would never be enough pin money," Lydia lamented.
"The officers would never dance with us now," added Kitty.
"We can't dance when we are in mourning," Mary grumbled, her usual tone of superiority dampened by the gravity of their situation.
When Papa had complained of a tightening in his chest two weeks ago, no one had thought much of it. It was like him to grumble about small things. It was as if he and Mama needed to compete in being the more dramatic adult in the house. Mama maintained her end with hysterics, Papa with sarcasm and an occasionally cruel wit.
By that night, he was gone.
And his penniless widow and dowerless daughters were doomed for the hedgerows.
"It is kind of Uncle and Aunt Philips to take us in," Jane said as the Philips' servants scurried around to move the trunks that had arrived with the Bennets. Jane and Elizabeth shared one. Mary and Kitty shared another. And Mama and Lydia had three amongst them.
"Oh, but for how long?" Mama cried loudly even as her sister approached them. "If any of you had married as you were supposed to, then we would not be in such a sorry state."
"Mama, we have discussed this." Elizabeth sighed. "It was not as if we have refused to marry all these years."
"Oh my poor nerves! How shall we ever survive?"
Elizabeth gripped Mama's arm as firmly as she could without being forceful. "Jane and I will find employment. We shall not starve, Mama."
"How frightfully wise," Aunt Philips exclaimed as she reached them. She eyed the outfits of each of the Bennets, her gaze judgmental and keen. "Indeed, it would be much better for the young ladies to be industrious."
"My daughters work for others?" Mama's voice rose and fell like volatile waves. "They should be marrying rich men, not working for them."
"Ah, Frances." Aunt Philips took Mama's arm away from Elizabeth's to wound around her own. She marched the lot of them towards the modest house. "But beggars can't be choosers now, can they?"
The cruel reminder that they were now indeed a mere rung above the ladder from actual beggars caused Mama to fall into another mess of tears, with Lydia and Kitty following suit. Mary walked beside the cluster of them with her head hung. Elizabeth and Jane, teary-eyed themselves, plodded quietly behind them all.
"I'm certain we shall find employment soon enough," Jane whispered softly. "We must, you know."
"Indeed we must." Elizabeth sniffed. The loss of Papa, and with him the family's financial security, sat heavy upon all of them. But as the eldest two, and the most sensible of the bunch, Elizabeth and Jane had to bear the brunt of the responsibility of seeing to their future.
Loathe as she was to agree with Mama, Elizabeth knew the Philipses could not house them forever. Mary, with her solemnity, might be able to watch over their mother and younger sisters once they could find a suitable, modest home. But the four ladies would need the resources to do that as well.
"Should we borrow the papers from Uncle Philips? Perhaps there are notices for governesses that we can answer."
"Perhaps," mused Elizabeth. "Though the possibility of other forms of employment may also be considered."
The front door closed behind them.
"There, there," Aunt Philips comforted Mama loudly, as if she were holding a child. "There shall be plenty of room for all of you. With most of your belongings entailed and left at Longbourn, two rooms shall be more than enough to fit you all, don't you think?"
Mama sobbed even more loudly at the pronouncement, and Elizabeth hardly knew to mourn with her or to rue the fact that Mama had ever tried to hope for better. As neighbors, the Philips had never been known to be generous. There was no reason to hope they would suddenly grow more charitable with a gaggle of impoverished relations on their hands.
With little else to do other than to accept whatever kindness was offered them, the Bennets settled into their temporary cramped quarters for the day, with a promise to appear promptly at dinner.
Dinner, once served, was as miserly of an affair as could be expected. The portions were small, the food perversely flavored, and the candles so sparse so as to render whatever dishes there were to appear dark and unappetizing. Aunt Philips mentioned constantly the rising price of produce of late, and Mama stopped her eating to lament her new lowered status every five minutes or so. Elizabeth, for her part, sat in mortification. But there was little else she could do. Neither Mama nor Aunt Philips were wrong, even if they liked to express their thoughts in as crude a way as possible.
Perhaps, if Uncle and Aunt Gardiner did not have four of their own children to feed, the family may seek refuge with them. But it would be too presumptuous and selfish of them to seek help there when they knew Uncle Gardiner, for all his kindness and generosity of spirit, was a frugal man at best.
"Shall we go through?" Aunt Philips said when the dishes had all been consumed, as if she hosted a grand dinner party rather than a cluster of hungry relatives.
"Very well," Mama moaned, clearly unhappy to no longer be mistress of her own establishment.
Her stomach still grumbling, Elizabeth stood as gracefully as she could, and she and Jane trailed the others as they had earlier while they all adjourned to the parlor.
"Jane, Elizabeth, may I have a word?" Uncle Philip called out just before the two sisters could enter the parlor. They stopped and looked at each other, both surprised, before they turned to face their uncle.
"Of course, Uncle Philips," answered Elizabeth.
He nodded. Uncle Philips was slightly younger than Papa, taller and broader in frame, though he was not the sort to ever be noticed with Aunt Philips usually prattling beside him. "Come this way."
The sisters joint hands as they followed Uncle Philips into his study. They had always known the room was his study, of course, but this was their first time entering the room itself. Unlike the rest of the Philips residence, the study displayed a degree of sophistication one rarely associated with their uncle and aunt. The books on the shelves looked costly yet well-perused. The piles of papers on the desk were no surprise, given their uncle's work as an attorney; but the orderly manner of their presentation rather raised Elizabeth's perception of their uncle. Here was the sanctuary of a man who actually worked, unlike her own unfortunate Papa.
"Shall you close the door?" said Uncle Philips.
Jane obeyed, and the sisters stood in cautious anticipation as their current host settled himself on his desk. He bid them to sit, which they did after a moment's hesitation.
"Now, forgive me if this is presumptuous, but I heard from your aunt this afternoon that the two of you were intending to seek employment for the supporting of your family."
Elizabeth sighed in relief. This - she could face. "Yes, Uncle Philips, for there is precious little left behind by Papa upon which we can survive. We were conferring, in fact, if we could consult your papers for positions we could take - perhaps as governesses, companions, or even clerks."
"Clerks?" Uncle Philip raised an amused eyebrow. "I must say I am impressed by your ambition."
Elizabeth smiled. "There is no reason to avoid such a task if I know myself to be capable of it."
"Indeed." He nodded slowly, as if evaluating something. "Now, if the two of you, clever girls that you are, are willing to consider the unconventional - then my task here may be much easier than I expected."
Elizabeth frowned slightly in puzzlement.
Uncle Philips smiled. "It may surprise you to learn of this - but I have been working as an agent of the Crown for the better half of my life. There are many things to learn about for the sake of our country, and there are many of us stationed in smaller towns throughout England to collect information - or to host important visitors - as needed."
Elizabeth gaped slightly in surprised. She looked at Jane, who looked equally bewildered. For all of his wife's gossiping tendencies, Uncle Philips was most adept at secrets.
"No one knows, not even your aunt," he clarified. "She only knows that I often have business in London, and that I regularly return with reward money. She asks for little else."
Elizabeth nodded. "I understand, sir."
"Now, recently, my superior has been asking for recruits - for young men and women adept in gathering information - not in the battlefield or the seedier parts of Town, but in the poshest drawing rooms in the land."
"To spy - amidst the ton?" Elizabeth blurted.
Uncle Philips' smile looked almost like he was proud of her. "Indeed, clever child. I see I have not misjudged you."
"Am I correct in surmising, then, that you wish to recruit me and Jane?" Elizabeth took hold of her sister's hand once more. "I hardly know if we would be considered talented in espionage."
Uncle Philips laughed heartily. "Not espionage, my dear, for that is quite beyond me. We only need some fresh faces - some affable young people able to take upon some assignments without the burden of prior associations to their name."
"Our anonymity helps."
"Indeed, though you may be assigned to take upon new identities, at times."
"Like actresses?"
"Must you make everything sound so complicated, child?"
"No, I apologize," said Elizabeth. "I am only - curious."
Uncle Philips nodded with more understanding than Elizabeth expected of him. "Of course. But, if indeed the two of you agree, this is a profession that can compensate you greatly, in a short matter of time."
And just like that, the recruitment sounded more like an answered prayer.
"Of course, Uncle." Elizabeth took a glance at Jane, who nodded eagerly. "We are honored for the offer."
A/N: New story! I hope you will like this one!