Darcy the Admiral

by Harriet Knowles

  With an effort, he managed to get into the house. “I’m going to sleep for an hour or so, Mr. Jones,” he told the butler. “Miss Darcy may arrive with Colonel Fitzwilliam and her companion. Please tell them not to wait for me for luncheon.”

  He hurried up the stairs to his familiar chamber, hesitating as he passed the master’s chambers. He must get those cleared, he supposed. If Stephen was hanged, then they would become his own chambers.

  He sighed. Perhaps it was as well that the mourning period was so extended. He’d want Elizabeth to have the benefit of the main chambers.

  Perhaps it was just that he was tired. In the familiar room of his boyhood, he recalled his rapid route to promotions. A friend or colleague would be cut down in battle. Within a few hours, he’d be expected to fill that man’s shoes — and his bunk. The dead man’s few effects would be parcelled up to send home to a grieving family, the poor remnants of a life barely lived.

  He stripped off his waistcoat and cravat, kicked off his boots, and rolled onto the bed. Life was short and unpredictable. But he wanted a new, more peaceful life. With Elizabeth.

  He woke to the sun appreciably lower in the sky. He knew she’d been right. He was better now.

  Stretching, he rose and went to the window, looking down on the street below. It was not too late, fortunately, and he rang the bell. Some hot water and a shave, and he’d be himself again.

  While Mr. Maunder was shaving him, he had his cox’n called up.

  “I’m happy you were willing to take to shore life with me, Mr. Duncan,” he said, “although it is hardly as peaceful as I’d hoped.”

  “That’ll come soon enough, Admiral.” The man was loyal and Darcy trusted him. Without an estate, he’d asked the man to be his personal steward. Now, until he knew both Mr. Reed at Pemberley and Mr. Leigh at Darcy House better, and their loyalty to the estate, he would use Mr. Duncan for sensitive investigations.

  “I want you to go to Derby for me. I want you to discover what the word on the street is regarding Mr. Stephen and his trial. I want to be here in London, and not be in contact with the lawyer I’ve appointed for him, or the judge. I must be seen to be outside the situation.”

  “I understand, sir. I’ll inform you of the rumours I hear.” Duncan bowed his head and left the room.

  “I’ve finished, Admiral.” Mr. Maunder proffered the towel, and Darcy nodded.

  “Thank you.” He rubbed his face, feeling rather better than he had before he’d left.

  He took the stairs two at a time, and the butler bowed. “Good afternoon, Admiral. Miss Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam are in the drawing room.”

  He hesitated. “Thank you, Mr. Jones. Have they been here long?”

  “They arrived for lunch, sir. I informed them you had said not to wait.”

  “Of course.” He was hungry now, but it would have to wait.

  He turned into the drawing room. “Good afternoon, Georgiana, Richard.”

  His sister hurried to him and he bent his head for her affectionate peck on the cheek. “I’m glad you’re home.”

  “They said you’d gone to rest.” Her face was troubled. “It seems unlike you.”

  He forced a smile. “I am well-restored now, dear sister. I hope you can forgive me.”

  “Oh, of course. I was just anxious you might be unwell.”

  “I’m very well, thank you.” He smiled. “But I am hungry. Perhaps you could order pastries with our tea.”

  “Oh, I’m glad you’re hungry.” Georgiana rang the bell. “You must be feeling all right.” She didn’t look at him. “I have some questions to ask you.”

  “Look at me, Georgiana.” Darcy waited until she met his gaze. “There are some things you do not need to know. You can ask me whatever questions you like, but I will decide whether or not you ought to hear the answer.”

  Richard smiled wryly. “I have already gone through this, Fitz. You’ll find Georgiana is determined.”

  “Very well.” Darcy smiled at her. “Let’s sit down, and when I am fortified with tea, I will endeavour to assist you.”

  “Good.” Georgiana sat down and smoothed down her gown, seemingly nervously. “The mourning for George is six months, isn’t it?”

  Darcy’s eyebrows went up. This sort of question was permissible — and understandable. “Yes, it is. We will go into half-mourning after two months, I think.”

  “Thank you,” she said quietly. “During these first two months, I know I cannot attend social events or entertain formally. But may I ask Elizabeth to come here to be with me — or call on her discreetly?” She seemed close to tears. “I’ve never had a friend like her.”

  Darcy glanced at Richard. “I don’t see that you could not do that. It’s not as if you’re forgetting that we’ve lost a brother, and she can help you grieve as only another lady can.” He grimaced at Richard. “After all, Aunt Alice went with you to Gracechurch Street.”

  “Mother is mourning a nephew, not a brother,” Richard reminded him. “But, I agree.” He smiled at Georgiana.

  “I think Miss Bennet is a good friend to you, and I don’t see that should not still be possible. If you’re going there in the carriage, have the blinds drawn, though. Then no one can object.”

  She nodded. “Thank you. Will … will the six months start again if Stephen … Stephen is …?”

  “No.” Darcy said harshly. He rose to his feet and stared out of the window. “Only for George.”

  Georgiana nodded. But she could still surprise him. “I know it’s still very early, but would you be permitted to make an offer to Elizabeth while you’re in mourning, or will you have to wait the whole six months?”

  He spun round and stared at her. “That is entirely the sort of question you don’t ask, Georgiana!”

  “I was hoping for so much,” she whispered. “I’m so sad about it.”

  “Enough!” Darcy was angry at his temper. But he didn’t wish to have the whole question discussed — especially not in front of Richard, whose quizzical look portended a further round of questions when they were alone.

  But if Georgiana were to invite Elizabeth here, then he could see her. He ought not to call on her — at least, not yet. Today he had been too tired to care about the proprieties, he’d only known he must see her.

  25

  Two days later, Darcy sat in his coach as it turned onto the Great North Road. He was grateful that Richard had suggested he travel with him, even if he might ask difficult questions about Elizabeth.

  They would find an inn in Derby itself for the trial. Pemberley was just a little too far away to travel daily.

  “What troubles you most about the trial?” Richard’s gaze was thoughtful.

  Darcy shrugged. “He has to conduct his own defence, of course, and the trial judges are not known for their patience.” He shook his head. “I made sure Stephen has a good lawyer to advise him on how to present his case, and I have no doubt that he will have advised Stephen to plead insanity.”

  Richard’s eyebrows went up. “He won’t do that, will he? He will think he would then be committed to an asylum and you’ll snatch Pemberley from him.”

  Darcy nodded. “I agree. But the evidence against him is very strong. He might believe the advice that it would be better than being hanged — but I agree with you. He is convinced he is sane, and therefore, he will try and bluff his way out of the charge.”

  “Then he is mad to do so.” Richard ran his hand through his hair. “If the jury listen to his ranting, they’ll find him insane without even trying.”

  “And that is what concerns me, Richard.” Darcy glanced at him. “He will undoubtedly try and be examined again and found sane. Then Pemberley is in great trouble.” He sighed. “George didn’t really try in the last three years. Stephen never bothered with learning estate management. There are good people there, but the place won’t be able to keep them for long if it falls into decay.”

  “You’re going to be busy then.” His cousin smiled slig
htly.

  “I don’t want it!” Darcy glared at him. “I retired to have a quiet life, make a home for Georgiana, settle down. I don’t want to run a vast estate like Pemberley. I haven’t been educated to it, haven’t been privy to decisions being made. It will be tremendously hard work.”

  “Starting with the trial.” Richard’s eyes were half-closed as he contemplated the toes of his boots, resting on the seat opposite. Darcy scowled.

  “The sooner it is over the better. At least the Darcys are still commoners. If he had a title, he’d be sent to London to be tried in the Tower by his fellow peers.” He smiled, reluctantly amused. “It takes months. I read up on the last one — Earl Ferrers, in seventeen-sixty.”

  “What happened to him?” Richard seemed interested.

  “Oh, he tried the insanity route. But the planning of the murder and the motive all helped to convict him.” Darcy sighed. “The delays were all because of his earldom. The trial was three months after the crime, instead of a few weeks, and the execution was delayed about two weeks instead of being two days — they had to prepare for huge crowds at Tyburn, to watch a peer of the realm being hanged.”

  “None of which will be able to be used by Stephen.”

  “No,” Darcy said morosely. “But I am not looking forward to it. He will undoubtedly say I have interfered with the evidence, have framed him, or something similar; the motive being to gain Pemberley.”

  “It will be mortifying for you.” Richard’s gaze was astute. “But if he is to be hanged, then it will only be a week and you will be free of this poison around you.”

  “Yes.” That was the only thought in Darcy’s head at the moment. That, and trying to think when he could reasonably break mourning enough to speak to Elizabeth, try and gain an understanding between them at the very least.

  “Tell me about her.” Richard’s voice intruded on Darcy’s thoughts, and he jumped.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Tell me about Miss Bennet.” They were sitting in the coach for the second day, and only an hour or so from Derby. Darcy wondered if Richard could read his thoughts.

  Elizabeth had been with him, he thought. He could almost feel the press of her body as she sat beside him, feel the heat of her touch. Even when she was just in his mind he could find satisfaction observing her. Most of the time, she was wearing a torn gown that clung damply around her body.

  He smiled slightly, and Richard chuckled. Darcy scowled.

  “I don’t question you about every partner you take!”

  “No, but I must.” Richard was an astute man. “My mother is bound to ask me.”

  Darcy could barely sustain his growl, and Richard looked complacently at him. “Young ladies will be all over you once they know you’ve inherited, and Mother will think you need her advice to select a suitable person.”

  “Yes, and I have been storing away their likenesses in my mind, Richard. I can be completely certain that if they change their tune, it is because of the estate, my wealth, that they try to beguile me. None showed any interest in me as a younger son.”

  “But it seems that Miss Bennet is different.” Richard’s eyebrow went up.

  Darcy nodded reluctantly. “She is. But it is not easy.”

  “In what way?”

  “When I told her that I had retired, left the navy, she thought I ought to return to the sea.”

  “What!” Richard seemed astounded. “Why would she say that?”

  Darcy glanced over. “She has the measure of me, having seen me there. She said it was obvious that I loved being at sea, loved the life, and I would be desolate without it.”

  Richard frowned. “How could you love a life like that?”

  Darcy smiled wryly. “And that is why she is right and you are wrong.”

  “You’re not going back?” Richard leaned forward. “You have an enormous estate to run — and Georgiana to care for. How can you even consider it?”

  “I didn’t say I was considering it!” Darcy was irritated. “I just said no one else has ever realised just what it means to me.”

  Richard shrugged. “Well, if you are thinking of making her an offer, then being master of Pemberley can be no bad thing.”

  “That’s your opinion,” Darcy muttered. “I am afraid she will think I am too above myself now to wish to make her an offer.”

  “Because her aunt lives in Cheapside, you mean?” His cousin frowned. “But when Mother and I took Georgiana there the other day, I thought them very amiable people, nothing to worry about at all.”

  Darcy glanced at him. “What did your mother say?”

  Richard chuckled. “She was more discomposed that you said you had not completed your call there — and that was after you said you had driven straight there from Pemberley. I believe that told her a great deal.”

  “I was very weary. Perhaps I said more than I should have done.”

  “I think she was afraid you might oblige yourself.” Richard’s glance was astute.

  “Elizabeth wouldn’t permit it. She said I was very tired and she did not wish me to say anything I might regret.” He smiled slightly. “She told me to go home and rest.”

  Richard smiled slightly. “It seems she’s trying to save you from yourself, Darcy.”

  Darcy nodded glumly. “But how long do I have to wait during this mourning period? I don’t want to breach protocol, of course, but I have a life to live — and I certainly cannot manage Pemberley alone.”

  Richard leaned forward. “But you are no longer a third son, Darcy. As the master of Pemberley, you have to be careful in the wife you choose. Do you have any knowledge of Miss Bennet’s family?”

  Darcy shrugged. “All I know is that she is the daughter of a gentleman.” He turned to Richard with despair. “I will marry no other.”

  “Let’s leave the subject for now.” Richard looked sympathetic. “I can see you feel very strongly about it.”

  Darcy looked suspiciously at him. “You know something. I suppose your parents have decided to look into her background.” He scowled. “You might wish to warn them that I am ever more determined.”

  26

  Elizabeth sat quietly in the garden at Gracechurch Street with her book. It was the only disadvantage of staying with her aunt, she thought — the inability to go for long walks that was her greatest pleasure when she was at Longbourn.

  Part of her wished to return to Hertfordshire and go back to the old routine. But she knew it would not help. The storm and the wreck of the schooner had changed her forever. She would never be the same.

  She wished acutely that the last weeks had not happened. She knew she and the admiral could have been well suited to each other, and she knew that he had intended to make her an offer.

  But now everything had changed. His eldest brother was dead — at the hand of the middle brother. She wasn’t sure when the trial was — or even if it had already happened. She shivered, she was glad she’d never known him.

  Georgiana had called yesterday, and the conversation had turned to Pemberley. The girl had shrugged when Elizabeth had asked what it was like. “I think it’s considered very beautiful, but I don’t remember it as a particularly happy place.”

  Elizabeth had smiled. “I suppose happiness depends on the people who live there. Not just the family, but all the servants and farmers, too.”

  Georgiana nodded. “I think you’re right. Father worked very hard on the place until Mother died, and then for ten years he did only what he had to.” She looked sad. “Aunt Alice says it is because I look like my mother that I was sent to London. Then when my brother’s wife died, and the baby, too, George lost interest.”

  Elizabeth had continued her sewing. “So you never really lived there?”

  “No.” Georgiana had looked pensive. “It’s very big. I was always a little afraid of getting lost.”

  No, Elizabeth knew that her admiral was now from a completely different level in society. He would not be able to marry for love, but
be expected to marry where it was expedient to.

  And she was under no illusions that the Bennet family could be in any way considered suitable.

  She heard the great glazed doors open and glanced up. He was there, standing still, his eyes on her.

  She smiled slightly, he looked just as weary as he had before. But she rose and curtsied.

  It seemed he didn’t know how unsuitable her family was for his new position.

  He came across the garden to her. “Would you be kind enough to permit me to join you, Miss Bennet? Your aunt has said she will remain at her window to observe the proprieties.”

  She dipped her head. “Of course, sir. Would you prefer to sit here with me, or take a turn around the garden?”

  He hesitated. “Would you be satisfied with sitting on the bench, Miss Bennet? Perhaps we might take a turn later.”

  “As you suggest.” She sat down and glanced round the garden. Anywhere, rather than look at his exhausted features. There was silence for a few moments. Eventually she looked round.

  “When did you return to London, Mr. Darcy?”

  He smiled. “About ten minutes ago, Miss Bennet. I wanted to speak to you before I went home to see my sister.”

  “I see,” she murmured. What can he possibly want?

  “Can you tell me, has she discussed her brothers with you in the last few days?”

  She glanced up, surprised. “She has indeed. She talks a lot about her brother George, and has taken comfort, I think, from her earlier memories in happier times.” She tried to unclench her fists.

  “I think she still does not quite believe that her other brother could possibly have committed the offence he is accused of.”

  He sighed. “That is what concerns me. I need to know how to convey to her that our brother was convicted of murder. In accordance with the law, he was publicly hanged two days later, and buried within the prison walls.”