Chapter One
Kympton Parsonage
Derbyshire, England
June 1803
Miss Mary Darcy was a happy spinster of some five and twenty years. Never a beauty, she possessed pleasant features, ordinary brown hair, and eyes. She was content to keep house and assist her father and the parish. Mr Matthew Darcy was vicar in the village of Kympton, gifted the living by his cousin's son, Mr George Darcy. His father, William Darcy, was the rector before he died and the preferment was passed on to the son at his request.
Being cousins to the Darcys of Pemberley meant they were invited to events at the gracious estate. Today marked such an occasion, as Mr George Darcy gave one of two dinner parties he hosted to repay his neighbours hospitality throughout the year.
"My dear, the carriage is here!" Father called.
Mary gave one last tug to her blue muslin evening dress, refreshed for the occasion with new white ribbons and lace. Taking up her shawl, she wound it carefully around her shoulders and studied the effect in the mirror.
"You look beautiful, Miss Darcy," Mrs. Lambert, the housekeeper, said loyally having assisted Mary in readying for the evening.
Mary laughed. "If only some fine gentleman shared your assessment, Mrs. Lambert," she said teasingly to the older woman.
The housekeeper laughed. "Go on with ya now."
"Mary! The carriage is here!" Father sounded more impatient since he had to call her twice.
"Coming!" she called. She removed her shawl, caught up her pelisse and put it on with Mrs. Lambert's help. "Thank you."
"Enjoy yourself tonight, Miss Mary."
With a smile for the long-time retainer, Mary hurried downstairs to her impatient father. "It will not due to keep the Pemberley carriage waiting," he grumbled at her.
"Yes, Father. You look handsome tonight."
"Thank you, my dear." He sounded mollified. A handsome man in his fifth decade of life and somewhat vain about his appearance, he owned to many faults, but pride in the Darcy looks was not one of them.
Still, a little flattery sometimes smoothed the way with many men—a fact learned from watching her mother manage her father—and Mary used that knowledge judiciously.
She took her father's arm and they went out to the carriage. A footman in the green and gold Darcy livery opened the door for them. Her father smiled in satisfaction, pleased with this show of civility from his cousin.
He handed his daughter in and she settled on the forward-facing seat and he joined her. Once the door was closed he used his cane to tap on the carriage ceiling, signalling the coachman to drive on.
"This was Lady Anne's carriage," Father remarked, smoothing the dark blue velvet squabs.
"It was very generous of your cousin to send it for us," Mary agreed.
They chatted in this vein and also speculated about who would be at the dinner as the carriage rattled towards Pemberley.
Once they arrived and disembarked from the conveyance, Mary took in the sight of the great house rising on a knoll with woods behind it. A stream wound around the property and fed a reflecting pond. It was the perfect blend of nature and artificial creation as far as she was concerned.
They ascended the stairs, entered the hall where their outerwear was taken, and were then escorted into the blue drawing room by Reynolds, the butler.
"William, Mary, good to see you," George Darcy boomed in a loud voice coming over to shake his elder cousin's hand.
"Good to see you, George," Matthew Darcy said heartily.
"Thank you for inviting us tonight, sir." Mary dropped a curtsy, and he chuckled.
"Fitzwilliam is in the nursery with Georgiana trying to convince her to eat her supper," George Darcy informed her.
"Is she pouting that she cannot join the adults again?" Mary quipped.
Her cousin laughed. "I am afraid so, and this is only Fitzwilliam's second night home. I should not have scheduled this dinner with him so recently returned. Perhaps you would be so kind as to assist? She is looking forward to seeing you. The other guests will not be here for an hour."
"Of course, I will. Please excuse me." She curtsied to her father and the master of Pemberley and hurried to the nursery. She eagerly looked forward to seeing Fitzwilliam, who just turned nineteen and completed his first year at Cambridge. He was also a favourite of his seven-year-old sister.
She knocked on the nursery door, and it was opened by a maid. "Cousin Mary!" Georgiana squealed. She got up from the table and rushed over to hug her cousin around the waist.
Mary patted the girls back. "I am happy to see you too."
Fitzwilliam stood, his long legs banging against the child-sized furniture. He was taller; he must have grown again at Cambridge. A smile lit his face. "Cousin Mary, it is a pleasure to see you." He bowed to her awkwardly.
"I am pleased to see you as well." She curtsied to the young man, who was a younger version of both their fathers, with his dark, curling hair and blue eyes. The aquiline nose that was too big on her own face fit perfectly with his features. "I was given to the task to ensure Georgiana ate her supper." She gave her youngest cousin a mock stern look. "Do I need to abstain from our tea party next week, or will you cooperate?"
"No! I will eat!" The youngest Darcy ran for the table, sat down, and immediately started shovelling food in her mouth.
"Miss Georgiana! Be a lady, please!" Miss Humphries, the governess, was horrified.
"Would you care to sit?" Fitzwilliam drew an adult-sized chair closer to the table.
"Thank you, that is very thoughtful of you." Mary smiled at him as she went to take the seat. He sat next to his sister again. Fitzwilliam was such a dear young man—quiet, studious, loving, and attentive. He took after his mother in personality. She looked around. "Where is George Wickham?" The steward's son was usually to be found nearby.
Fitzwilliam frowned. "He and his father will not be attending tonight. Dinner is for our family and guests only, not employees and their families," he said haughtily.
So, there was still a falling out and no reconciliation. She would have to question her cousin later if he had spoken to his father about young Wickham's debts and other bad behaviors. Her guess was he was not treating young women well, but, as a gentlewoman, she was not supposed to know such things. As a vicar's daughter, she had more than once seen a girl fall victim to a man with a pretty face and silver tongue. Sometimes the family could force them to marry but at times the girls were sent away or even took their own lives from the shame. She just hoped young George's actions had not caused any woman to behave in such a way.
"Lord and Lady Matlock will be attending with a special guest tonight, the Earl Annesley, which is an Irish title. The earl is looking to buy horses from my uncle and is staying at Matlock Castle."
"I see." Mary smiled. "I am sure Lady Matlock will redirect the conversation as necessary," she joked.
Fitzwilliam laughed. "I am sure my aunt is up to the task." Lord Matlock was renowned for his love of horses and parliament. The two seemed to be his only topics of discourse unless directed otherwise by his lady wife.
"Is there a Lady Annesley?" Georgiana piped up.
"Miss Georgiana, the adults are talking! You should not interrupt them!" Miss Humphries scolded her.
"Why not? They are supposed to be in here visiting me," she whined.
"You are perfectly right, little sister. I am sorry. I do not know if there is a Lady Annesley but I shall ask Aunt Matlock and report back to you tomorrow. All right?" Fitzwilliam said seriously.
She nodded regally. "Very well. I forgive you then."
"Why do you want to know if there is a Lady Annesley?" Mary asked curious to know her little cousin's reasoning.
"If not, I think he should fall in love and marry you. You are one of the nicest people I know!"
Mary felt a tear form in her eye. "Thank you, Georgiana but I am very plain and on the shelf. No man has wanted to court me—never mind marry me. It will be very different for you. You are a beautiful girl, kind, and well-dowered. Any man will be happy to marry you."
Georgiana frowned. "Would a dowry help you to marry?"
"Perhaps." But she was too old, too plain, and a second cousin of the Darcys. If she had Georgiana's dowry of thirty thousand pounds, or her close connections to the Darcys and Fitzwilliams—and a lesser dowry, things would be different. A plain woman became handsome with those connections and fortune. A second cousin to the Darcys was not considered remarkable at all.
"Fitzwilliam, could I give some of my dowry to Cousin Mary?" Georgiana asked earnestly, her forehead scrunched and her blonde ringlets bobbing as she cocked her head.
The little girl's question definitely produced tears. Mary retrieved her handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes. "No, my dear, that is not how it works but I do thank you for the lovely sentiment. Perhaps Miss Humphries will let us have tea tomorrow with cakes as a reward for your thoughtfulness?"
"Of course, Miss Darcy. I think that a fine idea," Miss Humphries declared. Her handkerchief also flicked to her eyes.
There was a knock on the nursery door and the maid answered it.
A footman came in and bowed. "Master Fitzwilliam, Mr. Darcy would like you and Miss Darcy to come to the drawing room. The earls and the countess have arrived."
"Thank you. Please let my father know we are on our way momentarily."
"Yes, sir." The man bowed again and left closing the door quietly.
"May I attend this tea party tomorrow, too?" Fitzwilliam asked with a smile.
Georgiana nodded. "Tea is always at two in the afternoon. Do not be late," she said seriously.
"I will not." Fitzwilliam kissed his sister's cheek. "Goodnight my dear. I shall see you on the morrow."
Mary also kissed the little girl's check. "Thank you again for your very thoughtful idea, Georgiana. Goodnight and I shall see you for tea! Goodnight, Miss Humphries."
The governess curtsied. "Goodnight Master Fitzwilliam and Miss Darcy. Enjoy the dinner party."
"Thank you." Mary took her cousin's arm and he escorted her out of the nursery and down the stairs.
"Georgiana does have a good idea," he remarked. "I shall speak with Father to see what may be done to augment your dowry."
Mary groaned. "I wish you would not. I am happy with my life, the interest on my dowry will take care of me, and you have already promised me you would take care of me should anything happen to my father." She had a five thousand pound dowry invested in the four percents and the interest was reinvested every year. The pin money her father provided was adequate for her simple needs.
"Would you not like a husband, children, and a home of your own? You would be an excellent mother," he said earnestly. "I do not know what we would have done without you after Mother died. You were such a comfort to me, and Georgiana adores you."
She smiled tightly. He meant well but she would never marry, even if her dowry was increased. "Of course I should like all those things, most women do; but I would not wish for either of our fathers to become upset at such a discussion."
"You thought...no." He looked horrified. "Father will understand this is not coming from you, but me and Georgiana. Leave it to me."
"Very well."
Cousin George would say no and that would be the end of it. She was sure of it. They were at the drawing room doors. She pulled her shoulders back, fixed a smile on her face and nodded at the footman waiting to open the doors.
The man looked at Fitzwilliam who nodded his approval. Into the breach once more…
Annesley Castle
Main Drawing Room
Ireland
July 1811
Lady Mary Annesley accepted condolences on the loss of her husband from yet another caller. "Thank you," she murmured over and over again, thankful for the thick mourning veil that obscured her face.
"Lady Annesley, please accept my sincerest condolences," Mr. Harold Annesley—the heir presumptive to the earldom—said with an attempt at sincerity.
"Thank you, my condolences to you as well on the loss of your uncle," she said quietly making sure her posture was perfect and her hands, clad in black gloves, clasped in her lap.
"The solicitors will be here on Thursday and I shall be sure to inform you of what you need to know."
"I am sure you will," she said.
He missed the irony in her tone and smiled toothily before moving away to speak to someone else.
She had to ensure she was in the meeting to protect her rights and that of the child she suspected she carried. That communication would be awkward to make but it must be done.
She stood and excused herself. A visit to the necessary was vital and a chance for a private cup of tea and bite to eat. Her maid rose from the corner and obediently followed her mistress.
The big clock in the hall chimed the hour as she climbed the staircase to her chambers. The shoulder feast should hopefully not last too much longer and then she could be alone and rest. She had sat vigil over her husband's body the whole previous night and was so weary. She just needed to stay awake a little while longer.
"How much debt?" Lady Annesley's voice quavered despite her best efforts. She knew they were in arrears on their obligations but could it be so bad?
"Forty thousand pounds, my lady." The solicitor coughed. "Debts of honour."
"They will not be paid," she said, tapping her fingers on the polished desk. She would make sure the tradesman and the servants were paid first.
"My lady, you do not have that authority," Horace Annesley's voice oozed false charm. "As the new earl that is my decision."
She looked at the solicitor who started to protest but she spoke first. "You are not the earl yet, nor the guardian of my unborn child," she said firmly.
The man spluttered. "You cannot be with child! My uncle never had any issue from his first wife or mistresses!"
That was a better reaction than she had hoped for.
"Sir! Please control yourself!" The solicitor protested, glancing at her anxiously. "Is it certain you are with child, my lady?"
Her husband's nephew's reaction was very satisfying. "No," she admitted, "it is too early to feel the quickening. But until at least that time, Mr. Annesley is still the heir presumptive. I did inform his lordship of my suspicions last month and that is when he appointed my cousin, Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, as my trustee and guardian of any children I may bear."
"Why is Mr. Darcy not here?" Mr. Annesley demanded.
"An express was sent to him in England but you needed to be informed of her ladyship's condition, sir. And she insisted on being present." The solicitor said, attempting to soothe the man.
It did not work. Mr. Annesley snarled wordlessly and stormed out of the study, slamming the door behind him.
Lady Annesley inclined her head. "Thank you, Mr. Lawson. What about dower rights or a jointure?" According to what her father told her, she was supposed to receive at least a thousand pounds a year if widowed.
He shook his head sadly. "Your father compromised and five thousand pounds of your dowry was settled on you instead, and any remaining monies would be yours upon the earl's death, but it is gone."
She sighed. It would not be much, but she would find a way to make it work for her and any babe. She could always go into service as a companion or governess and be known as Mrs Annesley if not with child. She was sure Cousin Darcy would help her find a position if necessary. Oh, if only she had never married the earl!
Pemberley Dining Room
Derbyshire, England
June 1803
The Earl of Annesley had to be almost fifty if he was a day, and very clearly on the hunt for a young wife to produce an heir and maybe a spare. Mary Darcy was amused as his lordship flirted with both ladies seated on either side of him at dinner. One was an impoverished widow a few years older than Mary with one son. The other, Miss Madeleine Howard, the daughter of the vicar at Lambton, was a year younger than Mary and being courted by a Mr. Edward Gardiner. Somehow that information must have escaped Lady Matlock when she planned the seating for the dinner!
"Something amuses you?" Mr. Howard asked slyly.
She lifted her glass of wine and smirked behind it. "I cannot hear what Madeleine is saying, of course, but I look forward to hearing about her conversation with the earl later when we ladies withdraw."
The rest of dinner passed without incident and when Lady Matlock gave the signal, the ladies withdrew to the drawing room for tea and left the gentleman to their after-dinner drinks, cigars, and conversations.
Madeleine and Mary naturally gravitated towards each other and selected a settee near the window in the hopes of a cooler spot and privacy in which to speak. "You must tell me all about your conversation! I must know what he said, Madeleine!" Mary demanded.
Madeleine laughed. "Most of his conversation was about himself, his estate and, of course, the fact he is looking for a new wife. His first wife died a year ago and he is just out of mourning."
"Did the fact you were already being courted by Mr. Gardiner come up?" Mary took a bite of the excellent shortbread biscuit and then laid it back on the small plate resting on the rosewood table.
"I do not believe it did." Madeleine gave a small smirk. "I shall inform the countess so he may be told."
"Would you consider him for a husband otherwise?" Mary asked curiously. Her friend was very handsome with a ten thousand pound dowry to match, a legacy from her mother that had grown to its current value.
Madeleine shook her head. "I am very fond of Mr. Gardiner. I do not believe I would like to wed another."
"I will be the first to offer my congratulations when he makes his proposals," Mary said sincerely. "I believe the countess is coming this way. Now would be a good time for you to inform her of your courtship." Mary rose and went to get herself another cup of tea. She watched as Lady Matlock sat next to Madeleine and engaged in conversation.
A few minutes later, the countess smiled, patted Madeline on the arm and then crossed the room to Mary. "Mary, my dear, Miss Howard just informed me of her courtship with Mr. Gardiner. While he is here in Derbyshire, I am introducing Lord Annesley to young ladies of gentle birth, as he is searching for a wife. I would like to put you forward as a potential match for him. What say you?"
Mary was astonished. "My lady, I do not believe he would consider me with my circumstances and fortune, especially when the Widow Thomas seemed to garner a lot of his attention. She is fair of face and has already produced one son."
"That may be so, but you have a better dowry and are a Darcy. I am sure I could persuade George Darcy to increase your dowry to make you a more attractive match for the earl."
Mary sighed. What was it with everyone wanting to increase her dowry today? "I would consider becoming the earl's wife as long as my father approved," she said carefully.
The countess smiled. "Leave it to me, dear Mary; by this time next month, you shall be the Countess Annesley."
Mary smiled demurely. "I thank you for your consideration, my lady, but let us see what my father, Mr. George Darcy, and the earl think of your idea."
Mary did not believe any of the gentlemen would consider her as a future countess and just desired to placate Lady Matlock, due to their connection through marriage. Mary took her tea cup and saucer, and went to re-join her friend.
"Did Lady Matlock speak to you about becoming a countess?" Madeleine asked.
"As a matter of fact, she did," Mariy said calmly. "I do not believe any of the gentlemen involved will be enamoured of the idea but stranger things have happened, so let us wait and see. Tell me, how is your garden doing this summer?"
Annesley Castle
Drawing Room
Ireland
August 1811
"My lady, Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy and Miss Georgiana Darcy to see you," the butler announced.
Why was Georgiana here with Fitzwilliam? The last Mary knew the girl was with her companion, Mrs. Younge, at Ramsgate. What happened? That was a story Mary would be sure to get out of her cousin later. "Cousins! It is wonderful to see you both! Please come in and be seated. O'Donnell, please arrange for a tea tray and refreshments for my cousins and asked Mrs. Curtis to ensure that rooms are made up for both of them."
"Yes, your ladyship." The butler bowed and left the room, closing the door softly behind him.
Oh dear, neither of her cousins looked very happy. "Georgiana, please come and sit next to me. Fitzwilliam, why do you not take that chair over there?" She gracefully gestured to a sturdy chair covered in red velvet that would suit his tall frame.
"My lady, it is good to see you again." Fitzwilliam bowed to her.
Mary sighed. "In private please call me Mary or Cousin Mary. That has not changed."
"As you wish. Georgina," he prompted his sister.
"I am pleased to see you again, my lady." Georgiana curtsied to the countess and then dutifully sat next to her on the settee.
"My sister will call you by your proper form of address," Fitzwilliam said firmly.
"As you say," Mary agreed. She could work on him later to be more informal in private. As he aged, he just got more stodgy.
"Please accept my deepest condolences upon the loss of your husband," Georgiana offered timidly, looking at the floor.
"Yes, please accept mine as well. Unfortunately, I was travelling and did not receive the express in a timely manner. As soon as I received it, I retrieved Georgiana from Ramsgate and we travelled north to see you as quickly as we could."
"I am afraid my affairs are rather tangled and will require much discussion and work on your part, Fitzwilliam. I apologise in advance."
He smiled gently. "It is what family is for my dear cousin."
Refreshments were brought, and consumed, and her youngest cousin shown to her bedchamber. "Do you not wish to go refresh yourself as well, Fitzwilliam?" Mary asked.
"First, would you please give me a quick summary of what I am facing?"
She smiled grimly. "I believe I am with child and my late husband's debts totaled over 40,000 pounds, most of them debts of honour. I have no idea how such a sum will ever be repaid."
He groaned. "I rue the day that the Matlocks brought the earl to Pemberley."
She laughed bitterly. "No one regrets it more than I." Part of her hoped that she really was not with child. To have a daily reminder of the unhappy life she had lived was not something she wished for her future. The earl had yelled at her constantly, and done everything possible to undermine her with the staff, friends and family, and destroy her sense of self. On the other hand, the babe was innocent, and if she did indeed have one, she hoped it would be a daughter. She would do her best to raise her child to be the exact opposite of its father. She made a silent vow to herself to never raise her voice in anger again. She had faced that too many times from her now deceased husband.
"Oh and there is no jointure or dower rights, just the 5000 pounds of my dowry that was settled upon me in the marriage settlement. The rest of it is gone."
"I know the earl had a temper and was a drunken wastrel." He hesitated. "Did he ever raise a hand to you?"
"He tried once but I reminded him that Matlock insisted upon him treating me well and that Richard was in the Horse Guards and very familiar with a sabre and pistol. Are you going to tell me why Georgiana is so unhappy and you are here sans Mrs Younge?"
"The summary is Mrs Younge colluded with George Wickham to persuade my sister to elope. I arrived in time to prevent it. Your express was forwarded from my London home and I made arrangements for us to travel here immediately. I hope you will excuse the lack of mourning attire."
"Of course. Have you spoken with your sister to see if Wickham…" How could she phrase the question delicately to find out if her young cousin might also find herself with child?
He shook his head. "She will not speak to me and believes the blackguard really loved her."
"I shall ask the questions and tell you what I find out."
"Thank you," he said gratefully. "I would like to go to my chambers now."
"Of course. Please ring for a servant. I do not care to have them eavesdropping outside rooms I occupy."
He laughed. "So I noticed. Your poor butler looked embarrassed at having to open the doors himself."
She smiled faintly. "He will get over it or find a new position." Perhaps she should dismiss him with his wages for the quarter. If she promoted Smith, the first footman, he would not require such a high salary. It was worth thinking about anyway.
