A/N: Slightly suspicious at how many people inserted the word 'unpleasant' before 'surprise' in last chapter's cliffhanger, as if I am incapable of pleasant ones. Just sayin ;) Wade
To say that Elizabeth Darcy had gotten over being embarrassed by going in public carried by her husband would be incorrect, for she had never felt the slightest bit in the first place. Twenty years in Longbourn had made her impervious to such scruples. In fact, she suspected that the most negative emotion among their little group was Jane's slight feeling of jealousy. She was certain anyone with a husband like hers should be happy to have him carry her everywhere, and suspected the former colonel might have to keep his strength up in future.
That silly little thought was replaced by her complete surprise at the dog's breakfast of occupants she found in the room. In fact, she amusedly thought that if she was of a scientific bent, like her friends who had made a sobriety scale back in the cabin, she would have to broadly categorize her reactions into several buckets: unpleasant surprise, pleasant surprises, expected unpleasantness, and neutral.
Of course, that did not even count the reactions of the other inhabitants to herself and Jane, some of whom would have considered her attendance unpleasant indeed.
She had never attended an important business meeting, mostly because her father rarely transacted important business, and her Uncle Gardiner preferred to keep his home and business separate.
In this instance, the four found themselves in a large room arranged almost like a stage. In the centre was a largish desk that was obviously staged to look important, since no sensible man would try to work in such an environment. Arrayed around it like an audience was a set of identical chairs, all with name tags like a formal dinner. The chairs were not uniformly spaced, but were instead grouped oddly, as if the participants were being split into tribes. She wondered if Miss de Bourg hoped for some sort of altercations.
As for surprises, the expected unpleasantness category included Lord and Lady Matlock and their eldest son the viscount, sans wife since he remained unmarried whilst approaching thirty, which Elizabeth thought odd. There was an empty seat close to them labelled for Lady Catherine, but she was pleasantly absent, which seemed unusual as they were less than two minutes short of the appointed time, and that lady had always rather pompously insisted on promptness.
To the far side of the Matlocks, she saw another half-dozen people she did not know, which her husband leaned down to identify as the de Bourgh relatives, with Simon (the previous spare) sitting closest to them with an unpleasant, seemingly permanent sneer on his face worthy of Lady Catherine.
In the unpleasant surprises category, the biggest offender was Mr Bingley, who oddly enough had his sister with him. The look he gave Darcy was somewhere between hurt puppy and angry tiger, though in practice Mrs Darcy suspected angry kitten would be closer to the mark. Miss Bingley could curdle milk from twenty paces, but since her most pleasant expression would manage it at ten, it was not so far out of the ordinary.
Mr Bingley was grouped with three other unknown men, and if she did not miss her guess, they all seemed to be unknown to each other as well. Next to the Bingley group, but separated by about a yard, was a group of five men who did not seem to know anyone at all.
There was one more set of three chairs between her own group and the unknown men, so she curiously looked around and gasped at finding the one-lone example of the pleasant surprise bucket. "UNCLE GARDINER! AUNT!" she said energetically, while Jane ran over to give them both somewhat sloppy kisses on the cheek.
The Gardiners came to greet the four happily, bestowing their own bows and sundry pleasantries and kisses on the cheek. Elizabeth wondered if her husband would try to introduce her aunt and uncle to his own, but suspected he felt little pleasure at the prospect. The Fitzwilliam men did not seem keen on the idea, though Lady Matlock did. She determined she might ask the lady if she was interested later (or not).
"What are you doing here, Uncle?" Jane asked for the group.
"No idea, Jane… or I suppose I should accustom myself to Mrs Fitzwilliam now."
"Not on your life. I was once Jane and shall always be Jane. Lizzy and I will have it no other way."
"To answer your question, I got the summons just last evening, and have been searching my mind for a connection, only to come up empty. My best guess is that many in the gentry has investments they keep at arm's length, so they are not exposed to the so-called stench of trade. I have more of those than I can count, so it is entirely possible I have some sort of partnership with the estate that I am unaware of. If so, this would be the natural time and place to extend or terminate it—especially if the business was with a principle and not the estate itself."
Darcy said, "That theory has much to recommend it, Uncle."
Elizabeth agreed with the worthiness of the theory, but mostly loved the way her husband called the man 'Uncle' without thought. She refrained from dragging him down to kiss him on the cheek, but only through a certain bit of iron-willed discipline. Jane looked like she might do the same just to tweak her former suitor's nose, but she kept decorum as well.
The last bucket she labelled absolute indifference, as she saw the long-put-upon Mrs Jenkinson orphaned next to her aunt and uncle's chair. She presumed the companion would likely get a small bequest, unless of course she had been annoying Miss de Bourgh for a decade, which was also possible. Since that lady was sat next to Aunt Gardiner, she obviously had nothing to complain or worry about.
Their attention was pulled to the front by the entry of a man who dressed like a barrister but looked like Mr Small. He was not as enormous as her favourite sailor, but neither was he average either.
Just as a clock outside the door started striking the hour, the doors behind started closing, but before either the clock stopped ringing or the door closed, she heard a bellow.
"One moment! Do not DARE lock me out! Do you know who I am?"
Everyone turned in their chairs, though at least half of the assembled knew exactly who she was.
The door continued closing, and the lady wielded her walking stick as if to strike the footman, when the large man at the front yelled equally loudly, "Lady Catherine, I will allow the last bell to be the meeting time, but you had better be in your seat by then!"
Half the room gasped, while the other half tried their best not to laugh. The man at the door opened it, allowed the 'lady' to enter in high dudgeon, then entered and closed the door behind him. Lady Catherine barely made it to her chair before the last bell chimed, and started to speak, only to be halted by a glare from the man behind the desk.
Elizabeth wondered what meals were like at their office, and assumed they must look like her wedding breakfast because the footman was not that much smaller than Mr Small. That led her to wonder exactly what type of solicitor this was, but then the man gave a smirk worthy of Pirate Darcy, and she found herself perfectly at ease.
The man up front stood behind the desk and boomed out an announcement in a stentorian voice that carried well, sounded authoritative, and reminded Elizabeth of the one-lone sea captain she knew.
"My name is Mr Blackmore and I represent the estate of the late Miss Anne de Bourgh of Rosings Park in Kent. We are here as per her wishes to read her last will and testament, but before we begin, pray listen attentively to the rules of the engagement, as specified by my client. These conditions are non-negotiable —"
Lady Catherine, Lord Matlock, and Mr de Bourgh started to speak, but Blackmore yelled, "SILENCE!"
Once they settled, he continued.
"Your reactions are within a few seconds of what Miss de Bourgh predicted but listen and hear me well!"
Elizabeth thought he was going to a lot of effort to get rather rudimentary civility, but with the crowd in the room, it seemed wise.
"To continue, here are the rules of this engagement."
He stared around the room menacingly, and he could not have been clearer if he cracked his knuckles in anticipation of a brawl.
"The first rule is that there will be no objections or disagreements! In fact, nobody is to speak at all. If you have something to say, raise your hand until I recognize you."
Elizabeth wondered if giggling counted but said nothing.
Lady Catherine said, "Listen here, I will not —" but she was cut off by the man staring at her menacingly until she stopped talking, an unprecedent reaction.
"As I said, you will ALL listen in silence. Any interruption or objection without my leave for you to speak will have you either gagged or dragged out the door, at my discretion. If you cannot agree to these terms, which I might point out would not be difficult for any five-year-old, you may leave now, and I shall notify you of the proceedings in writing."
He looked around the room menacingly. Elizabeth could not help giving the man a smile, as he seemed to be the one-lone good decision Miss de Bourgh had made in her entire life.
As he stared around, each of the participants nodded their heads in agreement, though whether because they were burning with curiosity or cognizant of the fact the two men could thrash the lot of them was hard to say.
"Excellent! You have been warned," Blackmore said, then sat down at the desk, and opened a folder full of papers.
"I will now read Miss de Bourgh's will, but I caution all of you. Exactly as predicted, the will has already been challenged by several in this room," Blackmore said, looking pointedly at Lady Catherine, Lord Matlock, and Mr de Bourgh. It has already been ruled on in both the Ecclesiastical and Chancery courts, and their admonition is to accept it as valid. They will not hear the matter again. This is FINAL!"
He looked around again, and got reluctant nods from all the challengers, who at least had the grace to know when they were beaten.
He gave one more prefix.
"Miss de Bourgh wrote this in the third week of March, a couple weeks after the arrival of the then Miss Elizabeth Bennet, but a few days before the arrival of Misters Darcy and Fitzwilliam. As a caution, she wrote it in my presence, had four witnesses, and had a physician attest to her health and sanity. If you wish to challenge on that basis, it has already been adjudicated."
Darcy whispered in her ear, "She knew what she was up against, that is for certain."
Elizabeth nodded, then shifted her attention back to Mr Blackmore.
With one last look around, he picked up the document and began reading in an authoritative voice that carried well.