by Leenie Brown
“He did.”
She glanced over her shoulder toward the bed. “She groans. Her eyes flutter open occasionally, but there is very little other response, save for some tears. I fear the injury to her heart is a far greater concern than the one to her head.”
“You fear she will not wake?” asked Mary.
“I do.” She sighed. “If he were to come…”
Elizabeth placed an arm around her aunt’s shoulders. “Hers is not the only heart that has been injured. My husband fears to leave his cousin alone.”
“It is incomprehensible to me that a father should treat his son so,” said Mary shaking her head in disbelief.
“Indeed, it is,” said Mrs. Gardiner. “Now, come. I will send for some tea, and we shall have a lovely chat.” She took each by the arm and led them back to Kitty’s bed. “Kitty, darling, your sisters have come to call. We are going to have tea. Would you care for some?” Mrs. Gardiner waited a moment as if expecting a response before continuing. “Very good, I shall have four cups sent up, just in case you change your mind. We would dearly love to share some with you.”
Mary and Elizabeth each took a place on the bed, one on either side of Kitty’s feet, and in hushed tones, they began a conversation about the very mundane aspects of life. As they were finishing their tea, Kitty began to toss her head as if troubled by a dream.
“It cannot be true,” she muttered in a sleepy, slurred voice.
“Katherine,” Mary scooted up on the bed until she could smooth Kitty’s hair back away from her face. “Katherine, it is true.” She heard a small gasp from Elizabeth and knew that neither her aunt nor her sister would probably approve of her tactics, but in her heart, she believed that Kitty wished to know the truth, even if it was unpleasant. “Colonel Fitzwilliam’s father has done a horrible thing in printing that announcement.” She reached down and lifted one of Kitty’s hands to her lips to kiss it. “It is a wrong that must be righted, and my dear, it would help ever so much if you would wake up so that we could worry together about fixing this mess.” She kissed her sister’s hand once again and lifted it to her cheek. “Please. We need you.” She allowed a tear to fall down her cheek and onto her sister’s hand. Kitty’s hand flinched slightly and her eyes opened briefly. “Are you awake?” Mary asked softly.
Kitty’s mind began to lift from where it had been trapped. She nodded her head slightly, gasping at the pain caused by such a little motion.
“Oh, my dear girl,” she heard her aunt’s voice near her, stirring her senses even more.
“Kitty.”
Was that Elizabeth calling her? Where they all there? She attempted to force her eyes open. Through her lashes, she could make out the forms of two of her sisters and her aunt hovering around her.
It was true. The thought penetrated her foggy thinking, causing her to want to slip away from the reality of it again, but the tears she felt on her hand as it rested against her sister’s cheek would not allow her to retreat. Slowly, she opened her eyes, blinking in the dim light of the candles. “It is true?” she whispered hoping that it had merely been a bad dream.
“It is,” said Mary, “but it is not finished. We must have hope that things will right themselves with a little help.”
The door opened, admitting Jane to the room. “Is she well?” she asked.
“No,” said Kitty. “My head hurts. My eye on one side will not fully open, and I feel as if someone is crushing my chest.”
“Oh, but you will be well,” said Mary. “I shall see to it.” She placed Kitty’s hand back on the bed. “Can you sit?” she asked.
“I do not know,” said Kitty, attempting to pull herself up into a sitting position. “Oh, the room will not stay still.” She closed her eyes. “Ah, that is better,” she said.
“You do not need to see to drink,” said Mary, wrapping one of Kitty’s hands around the cup she held. “I will not let the cup fall, but you must guide it so that I do not pour it all down the front of you.”
After a few sips of broth, Kitty indicated that it was enough, and Elizabeth helped her lie back down.
“Has my husband come with you?” Elizabeth asked Jane.
Jane shook her head, but her eyes sparkled. “No, he and my husband have gone to call on Hurst.” She joined the others on the bed. “I dare say we will be rid of Caroline soon.” She smiled widely. “Charles may be all that is amiable and pleasant, but it seems when pushed beyond his limits, he can be quite the opposite.” She giggled. “Caroline will be married within in a month, or she will be sent to Scarborough and expected to find a husband there.” She sighed. “I should not be so happy about it, but she has been terribly hateful to so many of my sisters.”
“Well, I for one am glad to hear it,” said Mary. “Do not look so shocked. She is reaping what she has sown, as is right and proper.”
“I think it is better than she deserves,” said Kitty. “She is hateful.”
Jane smiled and winked at her. “It is worse than it sounds,” she whispered. She leaned forward toward Kitty and the others followed suit. “I am sure I was not supposed to hear this part, but Charles intends to seek out Mr. Blackmoore.” She grinned widely as her sisters gasped. “He ended his conversation about it with ‘and I do not care if he has to compromise her to make her agree.'”
“Oh, my,” said Mrs. Gardiner.
“Indeed,” said Jane with a smile. “She will not be able to say a word about any other compromises if she falls into one herself.”
“If only the same could happen for her friends,” muttered Kitty. Mary and Elizabeth nodded their agreement, and then at Jane’s look of confusion began to tell her all they knew of Miss Ivison and Miss Pearce.
~*~*~*~*~*~
“One problem well-in-hand,” said Darcy upon entering Rycroft’s sitting room and giving his aunt a kiss. He nodded his acceptance of a drink from Rycroft. “Bingley and Hurst are calling on Blackmoore to see if he is still in need of a wife. One with acceptable connections and who will be happy to be a baroness one day, no matter the arrangements at home.”
“So he will keep his mistress?”
“Georgiana,” scolded Rycroft, Darcy, and Richard in unison.
“I know there are gentlemen who keep one.”
“I wish you did not know that,” said her brother, taking a large gulp of his drink.
“I wish it did not happen,” said Georgiana with a shrug. “I cannot imagine having to abide such an arrangement.”
Darcy groaned.
Georgiana smiled at him reassuringly. “Do not worry, Brother. I have learned many things over the past year about men, and I can promise you that gentlemen who keep mistresses are not on my list of possible suitors, for I shall not abide such a man. A man who touches another woman shall not touch me.”
Darcy squeezed his eyes shut as if in pain. “Could we please speak of something else?” he begged.
“If you wish,” said Georgiana.
Richard could not help the smile that crept onto his lips at the look of relief on Darcy’s face to have the topic turn from his sister becoming a lady of marriageable age. He leaned against the frame of the window and stared out into the darkness that was descending on the city. He peered as far up the street and then down as he could see from his vantage point. Bingley was to see the ladies home from their aunt’s house, and Richard knew when they returned, they would have news of their sister. He glanced at Darcy. Then, he would convince the others that he was capable of not doing himself harm, and he would be allowed to return to his rented room and wallow in his sorrow. He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the frame of the window, attempting to find some peace, but it was no use. No matter how much he tried to think about something, anything, else, he saw her, lips trembling, eyes filled with tears, telling him he had her heart and then turning away.
“I should like to take a walk, Fitzwilliam.” Lady Sophia slipped her arm through his. “I find this room to be rather boisterous.” She gave him a meaningful
look and motioned toward the door with her head. “There are a great deal more rooms in this house that are far less crowded.”
He nodded and, pushing off the window frame, allowed her to lead him from the room.
“Reginald is correct,” she said as they strolled down the hall. “I do have something that may help sway your father from his position. It is in my apartment if you care to see it.”
Richard nodded and turned toward the grand staircase. “I will take whatever help and hope you can give.”
“My brother, your father, has been a selfish creature all his life. The airs he would put on when we were young. It is a miracle he lived to ascend to the title.” She chuckled. “Reginald may have taken orders when he was first enlisted in the navy, but it was never his lot to be on the receiving end of commands but rather the one giving them. So, you can imagine the scuffles that took place when your father had pushed is eldest son role too far.”
Richard smiled despite himself. He would have liked to have seen his father on the receiving end of some unpleasantness.
“Catherine was just as bad.” She shook her head. “Lording her position over Anne and me. Giving instruction on things about which she knew little more than we did.” She sighed. “And the lectures about propriety were more than sufficient to bore even our tried and true governess to tears.” She laughed. “She was constantly telling Miss Blair how the lessons were being presented incorrectly. It is a wonder the lady stayed with us all those years. I dare say my mother paid her well not to leave.”
She drew her key from her pocket and opened the door to her sitting room. “I was glad that Catherine was married before I had my come out. Anne was not so fortunate. Oh, the trials she endured! Catherine was determined to select a husband for Anne and, as you can imagine, was not pleased that Anne chose to fall in love with a mere mister, a very wealthy and well-connected mister, but sadly lacking in a title.” She pulled out a drawer of her desk and lay it aside. She bent to look into where the drawer had been and then reached to the back. Two clicks and she had a small box in her hand. “One of my many secret treasures,” she said with a smile as she handed him the box.
Richard took the box and after examining the detail of it, removed the lid revealing a golden necklace. He lifted it by its chain, suspending it in front of him until he had placed the box back on the desk. Then, he let the pendant, a heart made of woven and twisted gold, drop into his hand.
“It was my mother’s,” Lady Sophia explained.
“It is beautiful.”
“I hope to one day give it to Mary.”
“She would like it.”
Lady Sophia nodded. “There is another necklace just like it somewhere in this world.”
“Did the jeweler make many?” Richard lifted it again and studied the craftsmanship of the heart. The weaving of the metal reminded him somewhat of a bird cage, but instead of a bird, there was a pearl locked away in the center.
“He made only two, and at my mother’s request, he destroyed his mold after the second was cast.”
Richard watched the heart twirl at the end of the chain. “This is the necklace she wears in her portrait, is it not?”
“It is.” Lady Sophia took the necklace from him. “It was a memento of a lost love. Rare as the pearl, precious as the gold that encircles it. That is what Mother would always say to me when I would play with it as a girl.” She lay the necklace gently back in the box. “It is the kind of love she told me to seek and the kind you have found.” She motioned for him to have a seat and then sat beside him on the couch. “My mother was devastated when the necklace went missing from her room. She thought it had been stolen by her maid, and so the maid was dismissed without reference. But, it later appeared in Reginald’s room. My brother pled his innocence, but my mother and father were furious with him and sent him away to sea.” She shrugged sadly. “My brother, your father, told his father that Reginald had taken the necklace to give to a lover, a woman, he claimed, who was of inferior standing, a shop girl.”
“Julie,” said Richard softly.
“That is the name I heard.” She gave him a quizzical look. “She exists?”
He nodded. “She is now a modiste. You know her as Mrs. Havelston.”
Lady Sophia gasped and her eyes grew wide. “The woman who made Mary’s gowns?”
“She is also my mother’s modiste,” said Richard.
Lady Sophia chuckled wryly and shook her head. “Your father must not be aware of the connection. I cannot imagine him allowing your mother to support that fortune seeking adventurist, I believe that is what my father called her.” She patted his hand. “However, that is not what makes this necklace a source of influence.” She stopped and thought for a moment. “Or perhaps it makes it an even greater one.” She shook her head. “Reginald had not taken the necklace. It was your father who had taken it to pay a gaming debt. However, when the news of it having been stolen fell on the wrong ears so that the necklace could no longer be used as payment for his debt, and after a rather heated argument between my brothers, the necklace found its way into Reginald’s room to be discovered by a maid that was more than a little friendly with your father.” She raised an eyebrow and pursed her lips in displeasure.
“So, you know the truth, but Uncle Reginald does not.”
“My eldest brother told me he was not above forcing me to marry someone of his choosing by arranging a compromise. And since I was already in love with my Lord Rycroft and hopeful of an offer, I kept his secret.” She shrugged. “After I was married, his threat held little weight, but Reginald seemed happy at sea, so I never told him. Perhaps I should have.” She shoved the box at him as if it were coal that burnt her hand. “I had hoped this would help you, but oh, my, Reginald will be so displeased.”
“I think he would understand,” said Richard softly. “It is not as if being cleared of the wrongdoing would have made it possible for him to marry Mrs. Havelston.” He opened the box and looked inside once again at the beautiful heart. “You said she had two made. If grandmother had one, what became of the second?”
“She gave the second necklace to a particular groomsman who was not long after dismissed from the stables at Matlock House. It was accompanied by a note explaining its importance to both her and two of her children to act as a protection of sorts for him should he need it. It was her way of keeping her husband from pursuing him any further than having him dismissed from his position.”
“So the rumours of an affair are true?”
Lady Sophia nodded.
“But could my grandfather not just take the necklace and note from the man?”
She smiled. “Your grandmother was clever. You see; it was when she suspected she was with child, shortly before she married your grandfather, that she gave the necklace to her lover with the instructions that he hide it and the note in a safe place known only to him and one other. She never told her husband what the memento was that she had given to the man, just that it had been given with a note that could damage the reputation of the child she carried, who was by then thought to be heir to the Earl of Matlock.”
“Did no one question the timing of the birth?”
Lady Sophia shook her head. “Your grandmother carried twins, your father and Catherine. It is not uncommon for twins to arrive early. Until she told me the story when she passed the necklace on to me shortly before she died, I had no idea that I did not share a father with my two eldest siblings. I had heard rumours of infidelity and seen some amorous exchanges between her and other gentlemen, but I had thought my father would have thrown her out if it were true that she had born him another man’s child. However, I suspect it was easier to accept them as his own and save his reputation than to send them away, and she had made sure he could not send them away quietly since she had happily proclaimed her good fortune of being with child to one and all. She was clever.”
Richard heartily agreed with that assessment. His grandmother had seeming thought of everything ne
eded to ensure the security of herself and her children as well as the safety of her lover. “You do not know what happened to this man?”
“I have no idea what became of him, and if she did, she never spoke a word of it.”
“And this,” Richard held up the box, “has the potential to cause a rift between brothers and, if the other necklace were found, to bring embarrassment to my father?”
“He could lose his title if Reginald cared to put forth a challenge, which he might.”
“But only if the other necklace were ever found?”
“An unlikely event after all these years.” Lady Sophia stood and smoothed her skirts. “However, telling his brother of the truth of that necklace,” she pointed to the box, “has on occasion swayed your father’s position.”
Richard turned the box over in his hand as he began contemplating how best to use the information he now possessed. It was a decision that would take some time and thought, and so standing he stood handed the box back to her. “Tuck it away again until I need it.”
She smiled and did as he suggested. “Shall we go see if Lady Rycroft or Mrs. Darcy have returned with news about your lady?” She slipped her arm through his after locking her door. “You shall marry her,” she whispered, “even if I have to stuff you both in my carriage and whisk you off to Gretna Green by myself.”
Chapter 8
Richard picked up the bottle of port and eyed the glass that sat on the table in his room. He had planned to consume the majority of the bottle last night, but knowing Kitty had awakened and that he had some hope of swaying his father’s position, as well as how an excess of drink would muddle his thinking for more than the night, he had refrained. One could not properly plan strategy while one’s brain was muddled, after all, and he was not giving up Kitty before exhausting every option either he or his cousins could contrive. However ─ he removed the cork and poured a small measure into the glass ─ a small bit for fortification for the day that lay ahead might be a good idea. He replaced the stopper and just as he was draining the last drops from the glass, there came a stomping on the stairs followed by a loud knocking at his door.