A World of Expectations_Book 2_The Confrontation

by Gayle Lynn Messick

  Darcy felt his throat tighten. Seducer of women? Another accusation. I must find out what Brandon is referring to. “Oh? I have heard nothing of which you could accuse him. You should not repeat ugly gossip.”

  Brandon glared at Darcy. “Even if Victoria fell into his trap?”

  Darcy jerked his head back and glared at his cousin.

  “Yes. Your friend courted her all last season, while you remained at Pemberley. He actively pursued Victoria, staying by her side at every ball, dance, dinner, and card party. However, after attending a private ball at Lord Dembry’s, he suddenly stopped his attentions, and Victoria secluded herself in her room, and has been hiding in there ever since.”

  “What did Victoria say about this? Surely you asked her!”

  “Yes, I did ask her if there had been any improper behavior by Blake, and every time I asked, her response was the same. She burst into tears without a single word of explanation. I failed to discover what happened. I suspect he compromised her, or perhaps engaged in another inappropriate behavior. Afterwards, he disappeared from town, I suspect in an attempt to avoid her and her family. By now, I assume he found someone more to his liking, or perhaps a lady with more fortune. ”

  Richmond fussed with folding his paper and laid it on the table, cleared his throat, and presented Darcy with a grin. “You could solve Victoria’s problem.”

  When it came to his daughter, his uncle wanted a titled husband for Victoria in order to elevate the status for any child and grandchildren born to her. Darcy knew, as an heir to a dukedom, Blake fit the requirements. Victoria would be a duchess and her son would one day be a duke. The entire Fitzwilliam family would rise in the social circles. Lord Cheswick preferred achieving a higher social standing to riches as long as it did not detract from his own fortune.

  Brandon, at thirty, had married the daughter of another earl, bringing considerable money into the marriage and a house in London. However, five years after their union, they remained childless, leaving Richmond as the heir presumptive. Although the five-year wait was not unusual for the Fitzwilliams, the couple had hope.

  “I was sorry to hear about your second place finish for the stallion,” the earl said.

  Darcy shook his head. Bingley has no idea the problems he has caused. Did everyone lay down money on me? “Did you lose much?”

  “No. I bet on Lord Blake. He always won the competitions when you two were at Cambridge.”

  “Oh!”

  “Do not be daft, boy. I most certainly did place a rather large wager on you!”

  “Now, Winnie, do not tease Fitzwilliam.” Lady Cheswick glared at her husband. “I am sure he tried his best. Golf is not his game.”

  “If he wished not to be teased, he should have won. Darcy, please enlighten me as to who exactly is this Mr. Kent”

  “He is from Leicestershire. The five of us attended school together and became friends.”

  “Who is his father? Who is his mother?”

  “I believe Kent’s parents died years ago. In fact, all of us had lost our mothers before we met in Cambridge, and that loss bonded us together--young men without their mothers to civilize—

  “Civilize you?” the countess asked.

  “Yes, exactly.” Darcy nodded his head and smiled to his aunt.

  “Who is his family?” The earl tapped the table with his finger. “I am unaware of anyone of importance by that name. You have been friends with Mr. Bingley for years, and you know I have never been pleased with that relationship. His family comes from trade.”

  “As does Mr. Kent’s family, father.” Brandon said and then snickered. “Darcy is expanding his friendships downward.”

  Sighing, the earl set down his silverware. “Darcy, we need to talk seriously about your choice of friends. Even Lord Blake is a problem; he is not welcome here. You know the Duke of Charnwood is nearly bankrupt.”

  Darcy furrowed his brow and glowered at his uncle through tiny slits.

  “Mr. Bingley is headed in the right direction. He purchased the estate, I understand.

  “He was uncomfortable purchasing it with so little information, so he leased it for now.”

  “Well, that is wise. He has no experience in estate business. Humph. I doubt he will succeed.” The earl tapped his chin with his loosely balled fist and then pointed to Darcy. Now Mr. Rawlings is only a second son and quite rebellious, if I recall correctly.

  “Richmond is a second son. I count him as a friend as well as a cousin, even though he, too, has been unruly at times.”

  Richmond scoffed and then returned to hiding behind his paper.

  “He is family,” the earl said. “You cannot help your connection to him. I would like you to befriend men of superior consequence. You must broaden your social connections. Upwards. Surround yourself with others like us. Otherwise, the friends you keep now will drain you. Heed my words, boy.”

  Darcy did not choose to argue this morning. If experience proved true, any further debate on the subject would be unsuccessful. Knowing any dissension on his part would merely keep the lecture going, he allowed his uncle to expound his views until the subject was exhausted.

  “When do you leave for the country, uncle?”

  “Soon. Why do you not join us? The winter season is so dull. With our home so close to Pemberley, Georgiana could spend time with Victoria. She has been most helpful to our girl.

  “Georgiana is remaining in town, as am I.” Darcy crinkled his nose when taking a bite into his pastry. These are definitely not as tasty as the cook’s treats at Netherfield Park.

  “Well, then, perhaps Victoria can remain in town with her. Oh, yes, I must ask a favor before it slips my mind.” When Darcy raised his brows, the earl continued, “Would you escort Victoria to the theater Tuesday? She has expressed an interest in the new play at the Lyceum.”

  “I have no plans for that night, and it would be a pleasure for me as well. I have not had any superior entertainment in a while. Do you know what is playing?”

  “The Rivals.”

  Darcy sighed. I am not interested in a romantic play. “Perhaps the theater at Covent Gardens might be a better choice. I believe Venice Preserved is playing there.”

  “No. Georgiana has mentioned how they both would like to see this play. It is a comedy and she needs to laugh and smile.” The earl leaned forward, and with a scowl, added. “I must also ask that no one else attend with you, especially none of your friends. We need to bring Victoria out slowly, and I do not want her upset. Can I count on you to help her?”

  Darcy nodded.

  The earl settled back in his chair. “Shall you stay for dinner? I would enjoy spending the day in intelligent conversation. I am interested in the competitions, and am anxious to hear more. And if necessary, I believe the Fitzwilliams can supply you with enough challenges. I heard talk of a new billiards game?”

  “Twenty points and my friend Bingley conceived the game.”

  The earl grinned. “There is no competition I cannot win. All it takes is a little sacrifice, and knowing when to make the winning move. I will defeat you, or my name is not Winthrop Fitzwilliam.”

  “Uncle, perhaps both Georgiana and I can attend dinner another day. I have plans for tonight; nonetheless, I think I have the time to demonstrate my superior skill at Twenty Points. Are you positive you wish to part with a few guineas? I lost the stallion with a golf club, although I assure you I am formidable with a cue stick.”

  “We shall see, boy. Now, I wish to offer you a consolation prize to ease your pride in the loss of the Andalusian. Before you arrived, my favorite wine arrived from the Cigar and Wine Shop. I insist you allow me to send over a few bottles. Georgiana has taken a liking to it.”

  “Why would I decline?”

  “I admit my failing to be completely loyal to England. The wine is from the homeland of Le Petit Caporal. I know you have chosen not to patronize anything French at this time. Regardless, they do make the best wine.” His uncle winked as he finis
hed his coffee before they left for the billiard room where the earl’s sons had sped ahead.

  ***

  Dinner at Wolverley House began precisely at eight. Lord Wolverley was a punctual man, and expected everyone else to be equally so. Rawlings had made it a habit never to be late when his father sent for him, and so he entered the dining room at the exact time requested. He was jolted with the hostility enveloping the room. “No need for a blaze today. The looks you are throwing at me have enough fire to heat half of London.”

  “Gerald, be seated.”

  Rawlings nodded to his father and took his seat, sighing loudly as he dropped into the chair. He suspected the meal would not go well, his first visit since his return from Netherfield Park. At least the wine glass is full. His father, along with his elder brother, sat at one end of the table, with him at the other.

  “I am sorry you did not win the stallion. I understand it was a fine piece of horseflesh.”

  Rawlings agreed with a slight tip of his head, his mind racing. It is never good when my father starts out with a compliment. I wonder what it will be this time. Will he lecture me on my drinking, my friends, my lack of competition skills, or on my inaccessibility within the Ton?

  Thomas coughed. “Brother, I would have fared better in the chess game, all the same I doubt if I would have bothered with the ram. Your friends are a bit odd.”

  Lord Wolverly earl dropped all discussion about the competition until the plates were full and he dismissed the servants from the room. He cleared his throat. “Gerald, I wish to speak to you about your friends.” He held up an old Morning Post and pointed to an article about Kent, which revealed his background and how he nearly won the stallion. “I am seriously displeased that you are associating with tradesmen’s’ sons.”

  Rawlings grabbed his wine glass. “I did not know you read that sorry excuse for a newspaper. I was under the impression you only read The Times.”

  “Gerald!”

  “I went to school with them.”

  “Yes, the worthless paper supplied that information. Now, Buxton told me about what happened yesterday. Did you really take tradesmen’s sons to the Four Horse Club?”

  “I invited my friends. They did not disguise their opinion and they treated them in a chilly, condescending manner, as if they were decidedly beneath their notice.”

  The earl slammed his fist on the table. “It was no more than they deserved. If you wish to resign from the club, do so. Driving is such a wasteful endeavor, and I have heard all about the wild behavior up at Salt Hill—drinking, gorging on food, and gambling beyond control. Now is the opportunity for you to surround yourself with more serious people.”

  Rawlings sighed. He had heard this before, although not as forcefully spoken as his father did this time. “You wish me to drop all my associations?”

  “Do not be absurd. Lord Blake and Mr. Darcy are better choices, and I have no objection to your continued relationship with those two, even if the marquis's behavior is at times questionable. However, your so called friendship with the other two must end today!”

  Rawlings sipped his wine while he readied his words and his strength. “You no longer have a say in my life.” He returned his father’s glare. “I shall choose my friends without regard to you or the society to which you belong.”

  The Earl pointed his finger at his son. “You have a duty to your family. You know who is acceptable, and who is not. Neither my name nor your brother’s can be connected with them. I will not continue to allow you to spend your time with them.”

  Rawlings put the glass down and sneered at his father. “Why? Why are these men so unworthy to you?”

  “We have discussed this many times.” The earl shook his head. “Trades people are not honest, they only want you for your money or your connections, and they are probably reformists as well. They want to destroy the aristocracy and that means me. How many French nobles lost their heads?”

  “Bah. Do not be so dramatic, father. We are English.”

  “Still, they wish to take over our lands and steal our wealth. They will not stop until they do.” Releasing a long breath, he swallowed a forkful before sharing a smile with his son. “I want to help you make better decisions.”

  “Father, they have more wealth than I do.”

  Leaning forward, the earl glowered. “Do not damage your brother in such a way with these connections. If you are not careful, they will force their way into our clubs, our social life, and our business affairs, and who knows how low our standards will sink then.”

  “Perhaps they would be better at running the country than we have been, as well as all the other activities, including business.” Leaning back in his seat, Rawlings smirked. “I know Kent and Bingley are better dancers, and both charm the society ladies quite well.” With his attention turned to his plate, he ate the first bite of his dinner.

  “They would risk any financial connection with you just to use it later to purchase a big estate and become a member of the gentry. The risk would be your fortune and your name. They have nothing to lose. They want to be us. ”

  “You mean gamblers, drinkers, and users of women?”

  Slamming his hand down on the table, the earl raised his voice. “You will disconnect yourself.”

  “I will do as I please.” Rawlings noticed his brother smiling at him. “You have your eldest son to play the puppet. When does he marry the fair Lady Christine, and when will it be announced?”

  “The wedding is in four months. I expect you to attend.”

  Rawlings shook his head. “I will be out of the country.”

  “Where are you off to now?”

  “America.”

  “What has gotten into you? First, you disappear to an unknown parish in the middle of nowhere, now America.”

  Thomas dropped his fork. “Brother, have you no self-respect left?”

  “I plan on finding out what life is like in a classless society.” Rawlings patted his lips with his napkin before raising his wine glass to his lips.

  “There is no such ideal. They may not have a titled aristocracy; they do have classes. There will always be the distinctions between those with power and those without.”

  “Well, at least they will not show a penniless duke more respect than a wealthy entrepreneur.”

  “I forbid your leaving.”

  “I forbid you telling me what to do. I have my own fortune now.”

  Thomas cried out. “You mean Margaret’s fortune, which would not have been yours had father not secured the marriage for you.”

  “He did no such thing.”

  “Yes, he did, my ignorant brother. She would not have you. You are just the second son, and she was after someone titled or rich.”

  “Like you.” Rawlings unintentionally spit towards his brother.

  “In her calculations, you were worse than any wealthy tradesman. She had no interest in a penniless second son.”

  “Stop,” the earl yelled. “I will not have you two speak in this manner. This is not the place, nor do I ever wish to discuss what happened. You will not go to America, Gerald.”

  “Well, it seems this dinner is at an end.” Rawlings stood, wiped his mouth with the napkin, and threw it on the table. “Unless you shoot me dead, I will be on the high seas soon.” He marched out without a look back.