Page 128 of Shields and Roses

With all the anger, hatred and haughtiness drained from her expression, and even discounting for the swelling, it was like looking at someone else entirely. It surprised him that, for someone who had loomed so large in the lives of so many, she now appeared small and fragile.

As Darcy expected, Mr. Jones held the surface of the mirror close to Lady Catherine's lips and waited. The apothecary then lifted the mirror and was examining it minutely for any hint of mist when Mary rushed in carrying a small bottle made of dark-tinted glass.

"I have the tincture you made for me in case I was stung again." She tried to offer him the bottle, but Mr. Jones shook his head.

"It will do no good, Miss Mary," he said gently. "She is gone."

The news surprised and shocked Mary. She physically reeled back at his words, and Darcy put a hand on her shoulder to steady her.

"Would it be wicked to say I am glad?" Anne asked from just outside the door.

They all turned to look at her. She shook her head slightly and continued.

"Mother came here intending harm. That is who she was. She has spent a lifetime manipulating, controlling and hurting others. Granted, that is not how things always turned out and on some occasions her manipulations resulted in good. Still, all the good that has come out of her evil does not absolve her from her crimes of intention."

"What you say is true," Richard agreed. "I tried to offer her the love and respect due to my father's sister, and I do appreciate the military commissions she paid for no matter what her intent was in doing so. All the same, I spent so much time and energy countering her harmful schemes, I cannot claim to be very upset by her death. Right now, I feel only pity, not sorrow."

Peter Fitzwilliam had joined Anne at the door as Richard spoke. His son's words and a look at the figure on the bed told him all he needed to know.

"I cannot fault you, son," he said. "She was my sister, but all I can feel is pity as well, and that is primarily pity that she wasted her life scheming against others instead of loving and being loved. The bigger question is what we should do now. There is a houseful of guests just sitting down to dinner."

"And a garden full as well," Richard added. His father shook his head and Richard subsided, looking slightly ashamed of the interruption.

"The point is," Peter continued, "if we tell them now, many will feel they should leave in order to show respect for the supposedly grieving family. The party will be ruined, the food and preparations will be wasted, while many may go home with nothing for dinner."

The others in the room all looked at Mr. Jones as the expert on how the locals would behave. He considered for a moment before he spoke, looking at the woman on the bed.

"I think," he began seriously, "that people in the neighborhood would want to know the truth before they leave, but not until after they have had their dinner, for exactly the reasons Viscount Rand has mentioned. Mrs. Bennet's meals are too good to be missed, especially if you, who are the deceased woman's closest family, do not deem it an insult for the party to continue downstairs."

"I think I should deem it an insult for the party to break up on my mother's behalf," Anne muttered.

Peter looked sadly at his sister. "And letting that happen would give her continued power to disrupt our lives, at least for tonight. I think you are both correct. Announcing her death later will also present the best opportunity to release the secret regarding the other recent deaths in our family."

"Other deaths, Viscount Rand?" Mr. Jones asked.

"Yes, deaths that mean you address the wrong man with that title. My father and eldest son recently died in an accident. I had been waiting to publicly announce it until I could tell my sister in person. I just missed her when I visited with that intent yesterday and never had the chance today."

"So, you are now the Earl of Matlock?" Mr. Jones said slowly, making a question of the statement.

"I am. The title of Viscount Rand now belongs to my son, Richard."

"I congratulate you both, along with my sympathies for your losses."

"Thank you. It is always an ambiguous moment. One cannot gain the family title without losing a family member. All the same, I had wanted to announce it when it happened but felt my sister deserved to learn the news directly from me, not from gossip."

Mr. Jones nodded. "That is very understandable, my lord. Well, if you announce that news this evening, it may distract from any morbid feeling over your sister's sudden death. What you say is true about the ambiguity, but there is always something of a spirit of romance in the eyes of the gossips when someone they know inherits a title. You and the new Viscount are well-liked here and the new Lady Rand is the daughter of one of our most popular citizens. That will brighten the spirits of those here greatly."

"And how it would have annoyed Aunt Catherine to know they will be more interested in Charlotte's good fortune than in her, even though she would also declare their interest as below her disdain." Richard smiled fondly at the figure in the bed as he spoke.

"Richard!" said his father with equally fond exasperation. "I think you have seen too much death in your career to take even this loss seriously."

Richard shrugged and his father continued, "Mr. Jones, I hate having you miss the dinner, but if you go down, we may as well tell all now. I propose you, Anne and I, at least, stay upstairs. Despite his current jocularity, I think Richard can be trusted, along with Will, to rejoin the company and arrange to have a meal sent up for us."

"And send Martin to come and comfort me, please?" Anne asked with a slight smile, "although I do think we should dine in my room, not here. No one will be the wiser."

Peter nodded in agreement with her plan. He turned to Mary. "How are you doing, Mary? Since you are one of those whose betrothal is being celebrated, I think you should go down as well, but we will be guided by your preference."

"I am upset, but that will be attributed to concern. While I will not lie to anyone, I can avoid the subject until you make the announcement."