A newly minted master of his own estate, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam answered his father's beckoning to his own study in a state of great irritation. With the drama of Miss Bennet's injuries and Lady Catherine remaining under Dr. Smeads care and sedation, Rosings had quieted enough that the Earl of Matlock felt confident in explaining to his son how utterly wretched his decision in matrimony had been.
Richard quietly closed the door behind him and called out to his father sitting in the shadows next to the lone fireplace. “I hope you have an important matter to discuss. My wife and I wish for a night of peace.”
“Did you care for one moment what your marriage might mean for your family? Or was your selfish disdain merely extended to the tip of your own nose?”
“Careful,Father, careful. I respect your opinion, but I am my own man. You had no qualms about forcing Darcy into this marriage, we merely exchanged one man of Fitzwilliam blood for another.”
“Fools! Marriage is not so simple as where you wish to marry, and Darcy will learn first hand when he weds that nothing daughter of some backcountry baronet! There are legal ramifications. Contracts! What settlement did you give Anne? Your paltry Colonel's pay?”
Colonel Fitzwilliam licked his lips and grit his teeth together to bite back his initial reaction. Darcy and he spoke at length how matters were different for their parents; they had no choice. But both men resolved to sow their oats in fields of their own choosing, no matter what the consequences.
“I'm sorry you could not manage your greedy way into my marriage settlement, Father. Perhaps if you had been forthright in your plans I might have considered your wishes into mine. Then again, on second thought, perhaps not.” Richard bowed low and attempted to leave but his father cried out. “Our Maker cares not more for an Earl's son or a candlemaker's son when the bullets fly. Good night.”
“You would see your mother thrown out? On the streets?”
Richard held up his hand with his back to the Earl. “Do not invoke my mother's security. She and Aunt Catherine may bicker over the Dowager House soon as the renovations are complete. Or are you forgetting my brother?”
“He's not made of your mettle, preferring the company of poets and drunks! The legacy will pass to you undoubtedly when his lifestyle catches up to him. And what legacy will there be? You've placed the land of your ancestors in precarious danger with this foolhardy marriage. Rosings is not but a quarter of Matlock's holdings.”
Richard had enough. His leave ended in three days' time and he would need to resign his commission to remain with Anne, but he despised the idea of leaving her, nor could he ask her to travel. He had truly important matters to mind, not the tantrum of a peer.
“Your business dealings are your own, sir. Again, you do not consult me on your own mind, I prefer to keep my own counsel. But don't worry, Father. Pray for the death of your niece and all shall be well. I can still marry that on-the-shelf third daughter of the Duke of Northumberland and his loans will flood your coffers.”
“You knew! You ungrateful, spiteful . . .”
The Colonel shrugged and smirked. “I may keep my own counsel from you, but as you point out, Mother and I are very close.”
The Earl of Matlock and brother to Lady Catherine de Bourgh was left livid and stewing in his own ire while his son Richard enjoyed the last laugh. In the battles of the generations, he and Darcy had won. This round.