Page 63 of Miss Gardiner
In Kent, Colonel Fitzwilliam made his decision and invited Mr Lincoln to return to Rosings Park to be wed to Miss Anne de Bourgh after calling the banns for three Sundays at the church at Hunsford. In a letter, Lady Catherine invited her brother and his family to attend, and at the dinner table, issued an invitation to her nephew, Darcy, to attend and bring his sister.
“Of course, you will need to provide an appropriate gift for the young couple,” Lady Catherine said as the ladies rose from the table.
‘Young?’Darcy thought.‘Lincoln is two-and-thirty and Cousin Anne is eight-and-twenty.’
“I thought the properties in Gravesend…the income will support…”
Colonel Fitzwilliam interrupted Lady Catherine saying, “Madam, perhaps you can restrain yourself until some other time to aggravate Darcy. You know he will never return the properties that cost him so dear.”
“So dear? What do you mean?”
“Aunt, you attempted to ruin my reputation with the bankers in the city,” Darcy reminded the woman. “I shall not forget or forgive your attempts to force my hand one way or the other.”
Lady Catherine frowned, “You always have been headstrong Fitzwilliam!”
“Careful Aunt, I might seek out George Wickham and pay him to move to Kent and sew discord hereabouts,” threatened Darcy.
Sputtering in anger, Lady Catherine stormed from the room. Darcy took a finger of bourbon. Colonel Fitzwilliam took three fingers of the drink and inquired, “Will you remain for the wedding?”
“No,” Darcy replied, not caring if Lady Catherine listened from the hallway or not. “Georgie will be disappointed, but I shall bribe her with a new dress or new books. And I shall select an appropriate gift for my cousin and her husband that does not cost me seven thousand pounds.”
“Three weeks after Mr Lincoln returns…that will put the wedding in late September,” Richard observed aloud.
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Walking with Miss Elizabeth and Henry Jones the next day, Darcy announced the plans for Mr Lincoln’s return and marriage to Miss de Bourgh in September.
“I hope they will be happy together,” Elizabeth said as Henry let out a yell.
“Will they give the farmers a holiday?” the boy asked with bright eyes. “Old Dragon Skirts hasn’t let us have a fall festival in three years! Says it costs too much…”
“Dragon…” Darcy asked with surprise evident in his voice as Henry turned red with embarrassment to have spoken about Lady Catherine in such a manner. However, Elizabeth’s giggles rescued the man and the boy.
Once her mirth was once again under control, the young woman said, “Mr Darcy, you must speak to the steward if someone has neglected to give the tenants a harvest home in September for several years.”
His face threatening to break out in a grin, Darcy turned to Henry and said, “Mr Jones, we must not speak aloud of Lady Dragon Skirts. And I shall speak to the steward and to Mr Lincoln about providing the tenants a harvest festival this fall to celebrate the marriage.”
“September…” Elizabeth said as they began walking again. “I shall return to London at the end of the month. I need to see…”
“Your new cousin will be two months now,” Darcy said. “I am certain the babe is well. Mrs Gardiner would have written with news otherwise.”
“Will you remain for the wedding?”
Darcy shook his head and explained, “No. I came to Rosings only to support Richard with the selection of Anne’s husband. I shall return to London as well. If Mrs Collins can arrange a suitable chaperone, I would be very pleased to return you to your Uncle Gardiner’s home in my carriage.”
“Once we are back in London, we shall not have our walks,” Elizabeth said sadly. “The month of September will be long.”
“Why won’t you see Mr Darcy in London?” the boy asked curiously.
“My sister died in June, and I cannot have company until October,” she explained.
“But you can write letters,” Henry said. “Miss Eliza writes letters every day, she tells me so.”
“Gentlemen do not write letters to young women.”
Henry shook his head and said, “You swells are hard to understand with rules about letters and keeping company.”
“I shall miss your company, Mr Darcy,” Elizabeth admitted. “I fear my letters to Miss Darcy will empty Mr Bank’s franking purse each week.”
