Page 79 of One Night with Mr. Darcy
Suddenly, it was all very clear to Elizabeth, what she must do.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
WHEN SHE TOLDCharlotte about the plan, her friend was horrified.
“That will never work!” she said, and then brought up a number of objections.
Most of them, Elizabeth had thought of and had answers for. A few she had not and she needed to mull over them. Some she solved, others she decided were just the price she would pay for what she was about to do.
Charlotte’s main objection, of course, was her role in all of it. “Elizabeth, I am not taking your husband from you.”
“Because you abhor him and cannot stand to be in the same room with him?”
Charlotte shifted uncomfortably on the chair in which she was sitting and would not meet Elizabeth’s gaze.
“Do you like him, Charlotte? It’s all right, you know. I certainly don’t like him, but if you like him—”
“I can’t say it’s quite that intense of an emotion.” Charlotte looked up at Elizabeth. “But well, he likes me. And there is a certain amount of gratification that comes with such a thing.”
“I know of what you speak,” said Elizabeth. “And your situation will be improved, will it not?”
“Your plan is madness,” said Charlotte.
“I can’t make it work without you,” said Elizabeth. “Can I count on you, Charlotte?”
“Oh, Lord, Lizzy, you know I would do anything for you, but… but…”
“Can I?”
Charlotte nodded, pressing her lips so tightly together that they were white, not pink.
The rest of the preparations mostly involved speaking to lawyers and accountants. Mr. Collins was improved, so she worried that the men she’d spoken to before would have questions about working with her. But—perhaps because she had already established a working relationship with them about finances—they did not.
She explained to them that she wished to set up a trust for a certain young man, and that she would be funding the trust by selling a number of items from Lady Catherine’s estate—paintings, jewelry, fine dresses, even a tiara that she had discovered in Lady Catherine’s old bedchamber.
The tiara turned out to be rather priceless, and selling it proved difficult. No one had the sort of liquid assets to give Elizabeth what it might be worth, but she was able to negotiate a trade for a very small bit of land with a house on it, an estate near to the size of Longbourn—something respectable but not grand in any way.
It was perfect, however.
She secured it, saying the deed must be in the name of the young man, and then designating an executor for the young man’s property—Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam.
She informed the colonel of his new responsibility after she had it done. She was in London that day for business (though she had told her husband she was making a trip to the modiste) and she called upon the colonel since he was there.
She did not tell the colonel her entire plan, but gave him just a bit of it.
He was even more horrified than Charlotte. “That’s the most ludicrous idea I’ve ever heard. Rosings isyours, Elizabeth. You shouldn’t give it up, let it go, like that. And what will become of you? It’s all well and good to secure Willie’s future, but what about your own?”
“Can you find someone who can create the fake documents I need for him?” she said. “I thought you of all people would know someone.”
“Oh, Lord, this is madness,” said the colonel. But he agreed.
It took four months, when all was said and done, to get everything into place. During this time, she’d had a communication from Mr. Darcy, who had—of course—heard some of her plan from Colonel Fitzwilliam, and he wished to know what it was she was doing also. He expressed quite a bit of concern, and he made more offers of assistance. She should allow him to rescue her from this situation. He could provide for Willie and for her. He wanted her to simply come to him.
But she was determined that this was the best course of action for herself, in the end. She wasn’t trying to have a happy ending anymore, that was what others didn’t understand. She was simply trying to save Willie and to undo the mess she’d made of everyone else’s lives.
Yes, she was setting things right.
Finally, the morning she was planning to put it all into place came. It was chilly, late September. There was a mist over the water when she and Willie arrived at the lake out in the woods behind Rosings. She gazed out at the water.
