Undoing

by L. L. Diamond

  “And now you have made me a liar. I shall be forced to play a part while in the company of your family as well as in London society. A perverted twist of irony, is it not? What you appreciated most is what will be lost.”

  “I do not believe that will be so. You may act as though you care for me in public, but the charade will not extend into our private lives. Your essence will remain unchanged.”

  Elizabeth reached a shaky hand into her pocket and removed the handkerchief she had forgotten in the midst of their argument. She set the elegant, lace-trimmed, folded square upon her leg and traced her fingers across the embroidery she had used to embellish the piece. The red roses stood out against the pale white of the fabric, but her fingertips continued until she reached her new initials near the corner.

  Oh, how a part of her pressed to send the offending article flying from the carriage window, but she could not. After all, how would it appear if the Duchess of Leeds threw a temper tantrum by pitching her handkerchief from their equipage? The thought did draw an unladylike noise from her nose.

  “Something amuses you?”

  She pressed the fine linen to her face in order to dry the remaining tears from her cheeks. “I considered tossing my handkerchief from the window, but the duchess having a fit of temper might cause talk amongst the servants.”

  With a laugh, he tilted his head and appraised her. “I was thinking while you were having fantasies of rebellion.”

  “A dangerous occupation for you, is it not?”

  He smirked. “I suppose it is, but I do believe you will like where my mind led me in this instance.”

  “Then, by all means, astonish me,” she said. Her tone dripped with enmity, and her eyebrows lifted. She had no desire to wallow in self-pity or regrets. Those thoughts and feelings were sure to assert themselves from time to time, but it was not in her nature to increase her vexations by dwelling on them.

  “If your sister is to spend even a small portion of the season with us, she will require a visit to the dressmaker. Her usual gowns from Meryton will not be sufficient, and since she is taller, loaning her items from your wardrobe will not work. Perhaps, she should spend a month complete.”

  Her heart leapt. A month with Jane! “She could travel to my aunt and uncle’s prior to our arrival. They could escort her to Madame Bonheur’s establishment and order her some new gowns.”

  “Madame Bonheur has an elite clientele,” he objected. “She will not agree to an appointment for the wife of a tradesman.”

  “I could pen Madame a letter explaining that my sister will be staying with us for part of the season and include a list of gowns she will require. I am certain Madame will make an exception in such a case. It is not as if one can discern my uncle’s profession by setting eyes on my aunt.”

  “You make a valid argument, my dear.” She lifted an eyebrow, and he gave a shrug. “I hope you will forgive me the endearment. I do think of you as a dear friend, and once you forgive me, I hope we can remain on such intimate terms.”

  “Intimate terms? I feel I hardly know you, sir. You do not spend a great deal of time in my company, and you do not share your thoughts. We are but two people occupying the same home.”

  A deep breath helped to quell some of her frustration while she awaited her husband’s rebuttal. She had made a concerted effort to calm herself, to at least temporarily subdue her anger and hopelessness, but he had decided to dredge it all back to the surface.

  The scenery passing outside of the carriage was beautiful, so Elizabeth turned her attention in that direction as her husband had done on several occasions. On this occasion, his continued observation of her was unnerving. She spoke the truth. He could not be surprised by her assessment of the situation since he was present or not present for the entirety of their marriage. After she did not acknowledge him for nigh on five minutes, he returned to reading his book, prompting a droop of her shoulders. Her equanimity could not tolerate another row with her husband.

  “Pardon me, Master Fitzwilliam, but a carriage has been spotted heading towards the house from the main gates. The boy who delivered the message spotted a crest upon the door.”

  His heart jumped and pounded against his sternum. She was here! “Please send word to Mrs. Reynolds of the Duke and Duchess of Leeds’s imminent arrival,” said Fitzwilliam to the butler in as calm a fashion as he could. “I am certain she will wish to prepare bathwater and refreshments for our guests.”

  The butler executed a perfect bow and exited while Fitzwilliam deliberately rose as usual from his father’s desk. As he made his way towards the door, a winded Georgiana slid to a halt against the frame. At least his sister could express herself freely.

  “Did you hear? They are here!”

  He allowed a grin at her excitement and tweaked her nose. “I have heard, Squirt.”

  With an indignant gasp, she pinched his arm. “I despise it when you call me that.”

  He laughed and tugged at one of her curls. “Which is part of the fun, dear sister.”

  “Fitzwilliam,” called his father from behind. Brother and sister straightened as the elder Darcy strode forward to meet them. “Did you finish going over the ledgers?”

  “I did, Father. Everything appears to be in order. We received a few items in the post today. I shall go over them tomorrow.”

  Mr. Darcy listened before nodding in agreement. “I think from now on you can run Pemberley without my supervision.”

  Fitzwilliam’s eyes widened. “Father?”

  “Should you find you require the help, I shall be here to aid you, but you have proven over the past year that you are more than capable. I do not desire you to learn to manage this estate as I did.

  “Despite his long life, my father did not prepare me for the responsibility of an estate as I have prepared you. I made a number of errors before finding my way. My wish when you were born was for you to learn from me, which you have since you graduated Cambridge. Now it is time for you to put your lessons into practice.”

  He gaped at his father. His heart now raced for a reason besides Elizabeth. What if he failed? “All the same, I should appreciate your wisdom and advice.”

  “I shall gladly provide either should it be needed. You may also speak to me of your plans. I would be happy to provide you counsel.” The elder Darcy placed a hand to his son’s shoulder. “I do not wonder if you will make me proud, Fitzwilliam. I know you will be a success. I am already a very proud father.”

  With a heavy gulp, Fitzwilliam choked back the lump that had risen in his throat. He had not anticipated such a move on his father’s part. He was overwhelmed. “I thank you.”

  Mr. Darcy embraced his son. “We should be in the hall to meet Thomas and Lizzy, lest they believe we have forgotten their arrival.”

  When they turned, expecting to find Georgiana waiting for them, she was gone, so they ventured to the entrance hall where she stood before Thomas and Elizabeth while they shed their hats and gloves.

  He paused where he entered the hall, drinking in the sight of Elizabeth as though he had not laid eyes on her in months. Georgiana’s voice broke through his reverie. “I attempted to tell father we would be late, but he was too busy speaking with Fitzwilliam to listen.” She bounced on her toes and grasped Elizabeth’s hands and pulled her into an embrace. “I am so happy you are here!”

  “And we are pleased to be here,” said Elizabeth, smiling, “but where is Evie?”

  Georgiana waved her hand dismissively. “Oh! Father thought her too full of energy, and I did not want to miss your arrival, so one of the footmen is taking her for a walk.”

  His father had stepped forward and greeted Thomas while Georgiana spoke to Elizabeth. Fitzwilliam stepped forward a minute later, shaking his cousin’s hand before stepping over to Elizabeth.

  She smiled softly upon his approach, but as he leaned forward to bow and press a brief kiss to the back of her hand, his attention was arrested by something in her eyes. She smiled and seemed gen
uinely happy to be at Pemberley, yet a hint of something lingered deeper—something that caused an ache deep in his chest. What could have possibly happened since he fetched Georgiana a month prior?

  “I am thrilled to finally set eyes on Pemberley.” Her expression became mischievous. She was to tease him, yet her eyes still held that same dullness—grief. That was the emotion he sought, grief! She wore no mourning, so what could it be?

  “And what think you of Pemberley?”

  “I believe I have never seen its equal for situation and beauty.” He searched her countenance, and saw only an earnest opinion freely given.

  “I thank you for the compliment.”

  “Lizzy! Would you care for some refreshment, or would you prefer to refresh yourselves from your journey?”

  Elizabeth glanced in his direction, eyes dancing at Georgiana’s excitement. With a slight movement of his hand, he gestured towards the drawing room.

  A curve of her lip was the only indication she had paid heed to his movement until she took Georgiana’s arm. “I do believe I should prefer a cup of tea before I am shown to my room. The trip has made me quite parched.”

  His father smiled as Georgiana ushered her friend to the drawing room with the men close behind. “Nice work, Son.”

  “Georgiana has planned the month down to the minutest of details. I only offered Lizzy a small insight in to the correct decision.”

  Thomas drew alongside them. “My wife is quick to laud her elder sister as the best of creatures with her kind heart and gentle disposition, but Elizabeth is much the same in her own way. The difference between them lies in Miss Bennet’s innate ability to only see the good in people. My wife does not have such a blindness to the faults of others.” Thomas opened his mouth to continue, but a familiar voice reverberated through the hall.

  “Godfather!”

  The men all turned at the voice. Fitzwilliam clenched his hands into fists at his sides. Why had Wickham shown himself now? Was he not supposed to be in London? Better there than causing a multitude of problems at Pemberley.

  “George,” said his father with his arm outstretched. His father never saw the bad in George Wickham. He merely saw the resemblance to the father, an excellent man, who he had considered not only a most trusted steward, but also a friend. “Have you come to stay for a time?”

  “Yes, sir.” He bowed to the duke. “Though, I was unaware you had visitors. I hope I am still welcome.”

  “Of course you are. I am certain Mrs. Reynolds can ready your usual rooms before you have need of them this evening. You remember my cousin, the Duke of Leeds.”

  Wickham dipped his head in a formal fashion in the duke’s direction. “Yes, sir. I am pleased to see you, Your Grace.”

  His cousin nodded his head. “Mr. Wickham.” Without further acknowledgment, Thomas joined the ladies in the drawing room, leaving the two of them with Wickham. Thomas had every right to dislike Wickham.

  It was Fitzwilliam who had requested Thomas’s aid years ago when they were at Cambridge. Wickham had been impersonating Darcy while he gambled and bedded women in a nearby village. Thomas had cleaned up Wickham’s mess, namely two girls Wickham had put in the family way, as well as some debts. Fitzwilliam had made Thomas swear not to tell the elder Darcy.

  His father rested a hand on Wickham’s shoulder. “Come, you must greet Georgiana and meet the new duchess.”

  His father did not see his eyes close as he followed them into the drawing room. Georgiana was still too young to be in danger from Wickham. Elizabeth, on the other hand, was not.

  Chapter 7

  Elizabeth removed her spencer and handed it to the waiting maid. “Thank you,” she said before the girl bowed and headed to the servants’ passage. Once she was gone, Elizabeth remained standing in the Pemberley’s hall, studying the ornately painted ceiling and the various murals adorning the walls. The room’s splendour still, even after a fortnight, made her pause to appreciate the view before she continued.

  “Good morning, Lizzy.”

  Mr. Darcy walked down the last two steps where he paused. “Have you just returned from your walk?”

  “Yes, sir. The sky is beautiful and a brilliant blue this morning and the day is not yet too warm. I noticed Fitzwilliam riding back towards the stables. He must have partaken in an early ride while the weather was more favourable as well.”

  “He does enjoy solitary morning gallops across the fields. May I ask where you explored today?”

  “Oh, I walked along the river until I found a small footbridge. I crossed there and followed a path that led through a copse of trees to a lovely rose garden. If I have neglected to tell you before, you have a beautiful estate.”

  He smiled and dipped his chin. “Thank you. I shall have you know that today, you enjoyed one of my wife’s favourite walks. I am certain she would be happy to know someone took as much pleasure in it as she did.”

  “It is indeed a lovely path.” She glanced down at the older gown she wore when she walked out. “If you will excuse me, I should refresh myself so I might join Georgiana for breakfast.

  “Yes, of course. I am certain she will be down soon.”

  Elizabeth swiftly climbed the stairs and headed for her chambers, but when she reached the entrance to the family apartments, she jumped back to avoid running headlong into Georgiana.

  “Forgive me,” said Elizabeth in a gasp. Her hand pressed against her chest while her heartbeat accelerated a bit. “I did not expect you to leave your suite quite yet.”

  A giggle burst from Georgiana. “And I feared I was late to join you for breakfast.”

  “No, I have just returned from my walk.”

  “So, you are to refresh yourself.” Georgiana looped her arm through Elizabeth’s and began to tug her towards the guest wing. “Then if you do not object, I shall keep you company. I hope you had a nice ramble this morning. The weather certainly appears agreeable.”

  “It was definitely agreeable. There is still a gentle breeze keeping the air cool. I enjoyed watching the ducks swim and dive for food, and I saw a few deer.” As they approached her rooms, raised voices could be heard from inside.

  Georgiana frowned at Elizabeth as they stopped and listened for a moment. “If I did not know better, I would swear that is a man’s voice.”

  Unfortunately, they could not hear the subject of the disagreement, but regardless, Elizabeth threw open the door and halted at the sight of Lalande pinned against the wall. The man turned and Georgiana gasped at the sight of George Wickham, who gave an ugly sneer.

  “What is the meaning of this?” said Elizabeth in the haughtiest voice she could manage.

  Lalande’s knee rammed upward with a great deal of force until it hit squarely in between Mr. Wickham’s legs. As soon as she withdrew it, Wickham fell into a heap on the floor while he clutched himself and writhed upon the carpet. “You bunter!”

  Free to rush towards Elizabeth, the moment Lalande reached Elizabeth’s side, she clasped her hands, wringing them desperately. “I returned not five minutes ago from the laundry when I heard a noise in your dressing room. I entered to find this man searching through your jewellery. He is a thief! I swear, Madame. I attempted to pull the bell for aid, but he grabbed me.”

  “She is lying.” Mr. Wickham stumbled to his feet, facing Elizabeth head-on and revealing a series of wide, blood-red scratches marring one of his cheeks. “She invited me here—wanted to lie with me in your bed.”

  Lalande gasped as did Georgiana. Damn! In the shock of the situation, Elizabeth had forgotten the young girl’s presence. The last thing the Darcys would wish was for Georgiana to hear Wickham’s vulgar claim.

  With a determined step, Elizabeth crossed to the door that separated her chambers from her husband’s. She had never had reason to use the entrance before, but today, she most certainly had. Without knocking, she turned the handle, jerked it open, and froze as stiff as a statue. Her jaw worked but no words came from her lips.

  “Wh
at do you think you are doing, Your Grace?” said Wickham from behind her, his voice oozing and dripping disdain.

  Closing her eyes to the scene in front of her, she slammed the door shut before Wickham could see the same picture, and whirled around. “Lalande, pull the bell.”

  “Oui, Madame.” As Lalande moved towards the rope, Mr. Wickham looked back and forth between them, as though he could not decide who to stop first.

  Instead of darting for one of them, he yelled, “I took nothing! She is a lying whore!”

  Elizabeth winced and glanced at Georgiana who should have been anywhere but witnessing this scene. The problem was Elizabeth required a witness beyond Lalande. The poor, wide-eyed girl was all she had.

  After pulling herself up as tall as her stature would allow, Elizabeth pointed to Wickham’s face. “You forget the scratches upon your cheek. Lalande fought you before I entered. You bear the proof of her statements upon your face.”

  The door to her husband’s chambers opened behind her, and Elizabeth struggled to keep from peering behind her. Once they were finished with Wickham, would her husband be furious with her for intruding upon his privacy?

  “What is the meaning of this, Wickham?” he said with a rumbling tone. “Why have you invaded my wife’s bedchamber?”

  “I caught him stealing,” said Lalande, her finger aimed in Mr. Wickham’s direction. “He carries my Madame’s rubies in his pocket.”

  Mr. Wickham raised his fist while his legs ate up the space between him and Lalande, but before he could swing, a hand grabbed his arm and yanked him back.

  “Fitzwilliam!” cried Georgiana.

  Fortunately, Fitzwilliam was taller than Wickham, who he tossed back into the nearest chair. “Empty your pockets.” Without removing his eyes from Wickham, Fitzwilliam gestured towards the door. “Georgiana, you are to leave at once.” Without argument, she hurried from the room. “Well, Wickham? Let us see it. What have you stolen?”