Jump to new as of April 14, 1998

This story is just the very beginning of a sequel to Tale of Two Letters.
(PS I stole the title from PG Wodehouse novel.)

Part 1.

At Rosings Park

ady Catherine paced back and forth in front of her fireplace, lit by the roaring flames. Her ladyship had just finished reading her brother's letter for the tenth time.

"Foolish rantings! Foolish rantings!" She slammed her walking stick into the floor to punctuate these remarks. She never ranted. How could brother even think such a thought, much less put it in writing. She crumpled the letter in her fist.

"No one but I ever had any expectation of their marriage?" she wanted to question the Earl. Had not she and Anne planned from their birth to unite the two families through the marriage of their children?

Had Matlock lost all sense of responsibility and duty? Was she the only who knew what was due the family? Was she the only one who saw this pairing as the misalliance that it was? "It is my duty as head of the family to make Miss Bennet welcome," she recited, with a sneer, "well she shall receive no welcome from me."

"Edward speaks nothing but praise for the young lady," she repeated. The Colonel had obviously been taken in by the wiles of Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Lady Catherine would have thought that he was a more sensible man, yet now he was behaving like any other man, blinded by a pretty face from seeing the true person.

"I will not follow your wishes in this matter--this is not to be borne. I will have my way in this matter," Lady Catherine stated, though how she would accomplish this goal was as yet undetermined. She resorted to the tried and true tract of blaming the Countess for her brother's unyielding attitude.

Lady Catherine long held the Countess in low esteem--perfectly aware that the feeling was reciprocated. For some reason that Lady Catherine could not comprehend the Countess' disdain broke into her consciousness like no other's ever could or did.

"If only Matlock had married Lady Margaret Pittleswaite--none of this dissension would ever occur," she thought for the thousandth time in the past forty years. Lady Margaret had been Catherine's choice for the position of Countess. She had been wealthy (£20, 000), well connected (the daughter of a duke) and she accepted every word Catherine spoke as gospel. But no, he had to go and offer for Miss Rebecca Longworth who had little wealth (a mere £5, 000), little connection (true she was the granddaughter of an Earl but from the second son) and, most importantly, she disagreed with Catherine on any subject known to man.

She unfolded the letter and read it again, and then again. She grew angrier at each reading. Lady Catherine echoed the sentiments of her nemesis as she resolved to act in a manner that would constitute her own happiness. She would visit the Earl in Bath and persuade him with the very reasonableness of her arguments and if that did not work she would show her brother and his wife just how great her displeasure really was.

Part 2.

At Netherfield, breakfast time.

arcy was in the breakfast room with Bingley, his sisters, and Mr. Hurst. The sounds of cutlery on china intermingled with the voices of the Bingley sisters who were gossiping about their London acquaintances and Mr. Hurst's often audible appreciation of his substantial breakfast.

Darcy ignored the noise around him. Instead he concentrated on the letter he had received from his uncle. It was in response to his own letter which he had sent off to his relations. Darcy had been hoping to dispel any unease they may have felt regarding his engagement, if they heard of it from Lady Catherine, before his own letter arrived. He was sure Lady Catherine would let her displeasure of the match be known and knowing, too, how offensive her letter to him had been, he was sure that Lady Catherine would have no compunction in blackening his fiancee's reputation to his aunt and uncle.

When he first received the letter he had felt greatly relieved that his aunt and uncle were willing, even eager, to meet his Elizabeth. Darcy included the invitation to stay at Netherfield until the wedding with no expectation of it being accepted. The Countess did not like to travel, the jostling of even the best sprung carriage caused her pain. Yet before him now was an acceptance of his invitation.

While he did not mind his aunt and uncle meeting Elizabeth, Jane or even Mr. Bennet, he really did not want to subject his relations to the vulgarity of Mrs. Bennet or Elizabeth's younger sisters. He could not expect providence to bless him with another accidental twisting of Mrs. Bennet's ankle.

To further complicate matters, Elizabeth had just accepted an invitation to visit her aunt and uncle in London. Darcy pondered the possibility of uninviting the Earl and Countess to Netherfield and instead inviting them to London. The plan had merit. He would write to the Earl and re-route their journey.

He pushed away the remains of his barely eaten breakfast.

"Is something wrong, Darcy? I do hope your letter did not bring bad news," Bingley asked with some concern. He wanted nothing to lessen the state of happiness he now possessed.

"What?" Darcy asked, coming out his musings. He looked up to see Bingley's and his sisters' inquiring eyes. Mr. Hurst continued to eat his breakfast, unaware of anything except his next bite.

Darcy did not wish to discuss family matters in front of Bingley's sisters. Instead, Darcy rose from the table. "Excuse me, but I am very not hungry this morning."

Darcy went to his room. He took out a sheet of paper and began a letter to his uncle and Aunt.

he Earl of Matlock opened the door to his wife's parlor. He had a letter he just received by express from his nephew and was eager to share the contents with his wife. He found the Countess seated at the table in the morning room. The table was set in a small alcove, surrounded by a bay window. Bright morning sunshine bathed the room.

She was sipping some tea, while reading the London Times society section. Her glasses were perched on the end of her nose. The Countess shook her head over the follies of the Prince.

"Should you like to visit London, my dear?" the Earl asked, as he kissed her brow, then he sat down next to her.

"London holds little attraction compared to Hertfordshire at the moment, Gerald" the Countess remarked.

"Oh, I believe that you will find that London has attractions heretofore unknown to us." The Earl said, tapping Darcy's letter into the palm of his hand.

"Whatever do you mean?" she inquired, setting down her paper and removing her glasses.

"I have just received a letter from Darcy." The Earl opened the letter, "He sent it express," he cleared his throat and read aloud Darcy's missive:

Dear Aunt and Uncle,

I hope this letter finds you both in continued good health.

I was delighted to learn that you would be able to make the journey to Hertfordshire, even though I know of my dear aunt's dislikes of travel. However, I now find myself in something of an embarrassment. I believe that my anticipation of your meeting Miss Bennet has led me to extend an invitation that I now, much to my dismay, must rescind.

A decision for Miss Bennet and her elder sister (who is to wed my friend, Mr. Bingley) to remove to London for wedding clothes was made quite recently. I will be accompanying her to London commencing this Friday and will remain there until a fortnight before the wedding.

If you still wish to meet Miss Bennet--whom I hope you will not blame for this contretemps, for it is entirely of my making--prior to the wedding, may I suggest that you come to London and visit there for awhile? Miss Bennet would have me inform you that she is very eager to meet you and relies on me to convey her very great wish to meet you both as soon may be possible.

As an added inducement, I will note that Georgiana will also be in London and she would greatly enjoy a chance to visit with you. All that remains is for me to add my wishes to those of Miss Bennet.

On the hope that I will be seeing you in London, I remain,

Your nephew,
Fitzwilliam Darcy.

"There, what do you make of it, my dear?" the Earl asked as he finished the letter.

"Obviously, London is the place to be. I feel that Darcy did not expect us to accept his original invitation," the Countess frowned, "Do you think Darcy felt I would not wish to make the journey because of my health? I am sure that he could not believe we would take Catherine's view in this matter."

"Why not, for there is some truth to all of Catherine's arguments?" the Earl poured himself a cup of tea.

The Countess dismissed this remark as unworthy of an answer, but continued to frown over the letter, which she was now reading for herself. The Earl placed his hand on top of his wife's and gave it a gentle squeeze. "However, Darcy does know of your dislike of travel."

"It is not that I dislike traveling, it is that traveling dislikes my poor bones. And for any reason other than meeting his bride, I am sure I would have had you decline Darcy's invitation."

"Never, my dear. I have known you for over forty years and though there are times when still I cannot fathom what you will do, or say, or think, from one moment to the next, I do know one thing. When your curiosity has been aroused, you will generally go to the ends of the earth to satisfy it. Had you the least hint last April that Darcy was interested in a woman, you would have been on Catherine's doorstep, begging for accommodations."

"I think not, my dear." The Countess looked affronted. "There is a perfectly respectable inn in Hunsford. I would have stayed there."

The Countess looked at her husband and smiled. "It appears that we are going London. Well, from what I have been reading in the paper, London is decidedly wanting in proper company, but I shall enjoy seeing old friends as well as making new acquaintances."

"Then I will write to Darcy, to inform him of our decision." The Earl replied as he got up from beside his wife.

"Wait, my dear," the Countess called, and the Earl paused on his way out the door. "I had almost finished preparing to depart for Hertfordshire, and you, also, I believe?"

The Earl nodded. "There are just few matters that need seeing to."

"Should we be able to depart tomorrow morning, do you think? We will be able to reach London by Thursday, then we can await Darcy on his doorstep."

"Would that not be uncivil, my dear?" asked the Earl.

"No more than he deserves, I am sure, for after all he did invite us to be there 'as soon as may be possible'" she smiled at her husband, "I do believe that this visit to London will be the most interesting in years."

Part 4. Friday Morning, Bath

he morning mist had lifted by the time Lady Catherine's carriage arrived in Bath. She instructed her coachman to head directly to her brother's house. She would be able to meet with her brother before either he or his wife had a chance to leave their house.

When the carriage pulled up in front of her brother's door, Lady Catherine was feeling triumphant. So far, everything was proceeding as planned--she had deliberately sent no word of her coming, for she felt if they knew of her journey the Earl and Countess would have found some way of circumventing her visit. Instead, the Earl and the Countess would be forced by the constraints of polite society into offering Lady Catherine their hospitality, and she was determined to stay until her wishes were granted.

Lady Catherine smiled, as she descended from her carriage, but it was not a pleasant sight.

"Come along, Anne, do not dawdle," Lady Catherine commanded. Anne followed her mother from the coach. She sniffled into her handkerchief.

It was with a great deal of umbrage that Lady Catherine found the knocker off the door of the Earl's house. She commenced banging upon the door with her cane, the knob making marks in the door that was bearing the brunt of her present frustration. The door was finally opened by the butler, who unable to step aside, felt the final blow of the cane upon his chest. Lady Catherine felt no remorse, but pushed past the startled servant.

"Where is my brother," she demanded "take me to him. At once," she added as the butler hesitated.

"I regret to inform you, my lady, that the Earl is not at home."

"Then I shall see the Countess."

"The Countess is also from home."

"Then I shall wait for their return in the drawing room." Lady Catherine barged into the room, ordered the butler to bring her some tea and ordered Anne to sit next to the fireplace, where a housemaid was frantically trying light a fire.

"Clumsy girl," remarked Lady Catherine, as the maid dropped a piece of coal on the ground. "Such sloppiness in a servant would not be tolerated at Rosings Park."

The butler entered with the tea tray. Placing it on the table, he bowed but did not leave the room.

"Excuse me, my lady, but I must inform you that neither the Earl or Countess are in residence. They have left for London."

"Do not try to fob me off with some Banbury tale. The Earl and Countess have not stepped foot in London in over five years. No, I will await for them here."

"My lady, the Earl and Countess, left earlier this week for London. They do not plan to return until January. They plan to go Hertfordshire before returning to Bath."

Lady Catherine's faced went from red with indignation to white with rage. She eyed the butler, who was, as he later mentioned to the housekeeper, shaking in shoes.

"Did you say Hertfordshire?" she inquired through clenched teeth.

"Yes, ma'am. For Mr. Darcy's nuptials," he added helpfully, "but they are to visit London first."

Anne was seized with a sudden coughing fit. "Drink your tea, Anne, and do not interrupt further," Lady Catherine snapped. She was thinking furiously.

To return home was to admit defeat, and Lady Catherine would never admit that. No, she would have to follow the Earl and Countess. She was angry at them for not being at home when she wanted them there.

"I am sure I am never from home when one wants to meet with me!" she muttered.

"Well, I suppose I must set out for London, at once. It is most inconvenient. Had my brother seen fit to consult me with his plans, I would not have bothered with this journey. Come, Anne," she ordered.

"My lady," Anne called faintly to her mother, "I am afraid that I have not the strength to continue the journey today. I feel most ill." She fainted back on the couch.

Lady Catherine called for the servants. "Prepare a room for Miss de Bourgh and one for myself. Our journey is delayed." She found some smelling salts in Anne's purse and waved them under Anne's nose. Anne awoke from her faint.

Anne was escorted to a cheery room. Once settled into the room, knowing Lady Catherine would never actually visit a sickroom, she pulled out a secreted copy of The Mysteries of Udolopho from her portmanteau. Anne lay upon the bed reading. She quickly stuffed the book under the pillows as Mrs. Cleaves entered the room. The housekeeper brought a pot of hot chocolate into the room.

"Here you go, Miss de Bourgh, some nice chocolate. I took the liberty of bringing up a few cakes that might tempt your appetite."

Anne looked at the confections with fained indifference. "Thank you," Anne said with well practiced lassitude.

As soon as Mrs. Cleaves was safely out the door, Anne scrambled from her bed, and greedily ate a poppy-seed cake. After pouring herself a cup of tea, and placing two more cakes on her plate, she returned to bed. Retrieving her book, she settled in for the day. If all went well, maybe she could put off the journey to London for two or threes days. She bit into a cherry cake. Maybe even four days.

Part 5.

London, Friday, Early Afternoon

The Earl's London Townhouse

ell, my dear, it appears that Darcy has arrived in London," the Earl burst into the drawing room eager to deliver this piece of news to his wife.

"Yes, my love, I know," came the reply. The Countess was on the sofa, covered with a cashmere shawl. A book of poetry was lying neglected on her lap.

"But that is impossible, I just heard the news myself from...." the Earl stopped before he revealed his secret.

"From Andrew, the footman you had stationed at Grosvenor Square? You would have been wiser to station him over on Gracechurch street, as James was," replied the Countess, "then you would have received the news a quarter of the hour past."

The Earl was nonplused for a moment, but then gave a reluctant laugh, "One of these days, my dear, I will succeed in surprising you.

"Believe that, Gerald, if it gives you comfort," the Countess smiled at her husband.

"Shall I have the carriage brought round?"

"Whatever for?"

"Why, to pay a visit on Darcy, of course."

The Countess shook her head, "I would never dream of calling on Darcy before he has had the time to refresh himself from his journey."

The Earl gave the Countess a long, hard look. "I see. We are to call on Miss Bennet at Gracechurch street, then?"

"Without a proper introduction? It would be most improper, not to say impolite," the Countess said as she made room for her husband to sit beside her.

"Since when has your curiosity become tethered by such fine notions of propriety? I would have wagered that you would be on Darcy's doorstep the moment he arrived in town. I am sure he will be pleased to be spared your interrogation," said the Earl as he sat down next to his wife.

"Gerald, really, you speak as if I was trying to get a French spy to spill all his secrets."

"I always thought it was a great mistake that the government never made use of your unique talents. Why the war would have been over years ago," the Earl teased his wife.

"You flatter me, I fear," the Countess bowed her head in gracious acknowledgment of the compliment.

"Not at all. So, we are to await for an invitation from Darcy before we meet Miss Bennet?" inquired the Earl, positive that this was not his wife's intended course of action.

"Of course not. I am to meet Miss Bennet on the morrow," the Countess replied.

"So you have it all planned out, do you?" remarked the Earl, amused more than he cared to admit.

"Not quite, I am awaiting the return of Bridget before ..."

"Bridget, ma'am," said the footman as he opened the door.

A maid came hurriedly into the room.

"Ah, Bridget, I was just telling the Earl that I shall be meeting Miss Bennet tomorrow. When and where?"

"According to the Gardiner's upstairs maid, the ladies are to go to Madame Duvall's at ten o'clock tomorrow morning, if you please, ma'am." The maid curtsied and left the room.

"I take it a new gown is in order, one made by Madame Duvall?" inquired the Earl, raising one eyebrow.

"Yes, I fear my Bath modiste is sadly out of date and Madame Duvall is one of the most fashionable dressmakers, my dear. I simply must order two or three new gowns. Would you care to accompany me, Gerald?"

The Earl cringed at the very idea. "No, I shall be meeting with my solicitor most of the morning. But I will expect a full report as soon as you return home. And you may buy a dozen gowns, if you wish."

"A dozen gowns seems a trifle extravagant, my dear. I will settle for no more than eleven," said the Countess, who shifted in her seat, causing the book of poetry to fall on the floor.

"Thank you for taking such economies, my dear, though it is not necessary I assure you," said the Earl as he bent down to retrieve the book.

It was a book of sonnets that he had given her during their own engagement. "Are you feeling sentimental, my dear?"

"All this talk of bridals has gotten me nostalgic. You were ever so romantic as a young man, Gerald."

"And a romantic old man, too," the Earl said as he gathered the Countess in his arms and placed a kiss on her forehead.

"They are at it again," smirked Col. Fitzwilliam from the doorway. The Earl and the Countess jumped apart, looking for all the world like children who been caught filching gingerbread. "Do you suppose you and Miss Bennet will be carrying on so forty years from now, Darcy?"

"It is my dearest wish," Darcy said as stepped into the room.