Two Gentlemen of Honor

by Clara Willoughby

  “Nonsense,” Rebecca interrupted. “We have more than enough space. It will be pleasant to have guests in Westerhall once again.”

  “You were not allowed to have guests?” Jane asked.

  Rebecca hesitated for a moment before her brother appeared to give her permission to speak.

  “Our father did not permit guests at Westerhall for many years before his death. He was neither a terribly kind or congenial man. Adrian and my father’s lawyer, Mr. Butterfield, were the only two souls present at the Duke’s funeral. He did not even permit my brother to send for me from school. In the end, he died as he lived, I suppose.”

  Elizabeth could not recall having ever heard a young girl speak so openly about her father, but she was becoming more and more at ease with the family’s comfortable way with one another.

  “I am sorry for your loss, all the same,” Jane said, her eyes still filled with the surprise of Rebecca’s story.

  “Thank you,” Lord Spencer answered in place of his sister. “Shall we begin walking? I will take you on to the west side of the property where my mother’s herb garden is still growing. She treated it as one of her children.”

  The party began their journey in the direction of Westerhall manor, though Elizabeth took hold of her sister’s hand and held her back. Once she was confident they were alone, she spoke.

  “I need to speak to you, Jane. Privately. How may we speak in private if we are in separate rooms?”

  Jane looked at her sister as if she were mad.

  “We will be in different rooms, Elizabeth, not on different estates. Come see me before dinner. My goodness, you are acting silly. Which gentleman is it that has you acting in such a manner?”

  As her sister walked off to join the rest of the group, Elizabeth followed behind slowly, considering Jane’s question. When she at last joined them at the herb garden she realized…

  She did not know which it was, Mr. Darcy or Lord Spencer, who was now engaging her mind and bewitching her good judgment.

  Chapter 6

  The dining room at Westerhall was glowing with the light of a hundred candles, which gave it the warmth of a home that was well lived in. The table had been laid with beautiful silver and some of the most delicious food that Elizabeth had ever seen. Back at Longbourn, Elizabeth was always the first to dinner, anxious to see what Mrs. Hill prepared. This time, however, she was the last to the table, something that caused her more than a fair bit of surprise. She expected, at least, that Jane would be tardy, as they had spent an ample amount of time conversing in her room before their evening meal.

  After they had been shown to their joined rooms, Elizabeth waited for Adrian and Rebecca to depart before slipping over to Jane’s door. When she opened the door, she already looked weary.

  “Lizzy, I pray you have at the very least decided the direction of this conversation because I hoped to rest before dinner.”

  Elizabeth pushed past her sister and into her room, then sat on her bed with a dramatic sigh.

  “Westerhall is lovely, is it not?” she asked.

  “It is, indeed, lovely. But I think it is important to note if you feel affection for the estate or the master.”

  Elizabeth frowned at her sister with the heat of the summer sun.

  “How dreadful, Jane. I should think it is quite clear that Adrian Spencer is a lovely man. Yet, there is something odd about him, as if his mind is somewhere else entirely all the time. Have you noticed this too?”

  Jane sat next to her sister and set her hand upon Elizabeth’s.

  “His mine does seem occupied by something else but Lizzy. His father passed away, he is only just returned from India, and his sister has now become his ward. Perhaps he is overwhelmed by all of his new duties. Even so, you must consider him a more agreeable prospect than Mr. Darcy, no?”

  Elizabeth consider all she had learned about Darcy since their encounter at the Meryton assembly and it did not match with the rude villain she met that evening. She saw something affable in his demeanor, a sort of devotion to Lord Spencer and his sister, that made her believe he was, indeed, capable of expressing warmth toward another living thing.

  “I would not say he is more agreeable, but there is something in his manner that intrigues me. Oh, Jane! I never imagined that I would meet one gentleman that appealed to me, let alone two. What would you do if you were in my place?”

  Jane offered no further advice, instead allowing Elizabeth to talk until the sun set while Jane closed her eyes and only fell asleep on four or five occasions. Finally, it was time to dress for dinner, which was when Jane shooed Elizabeth from her room so they both could prepare. Once alone in her own room, Elizabeth struggled to pick a proper frock for the occasion. She hardly felt fancy enough for dinner in Westerhall Manor, let alone to eat in the company gentlemen such as Lord Adrian Spencer or Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy. Eventually, she came to rest on her favorite blue dress and then made her way down the stairs to join the rest of the household in the dining room.

  Elizabeth sat in the last empty chair at the farthest edge of the table, where Adrian, Rebecca, and their guests were anxiously waiting to start dinner. She did not blame them because the food looked exceedingly delicious. There was roast sirloin and potatoes with chateaubriand sauce, jugged hare, roast chicken with egg sauce, soft-boiled eggs, and so much more. The smell of it all filled the room like a spring mist and for a moment, Elizabeth thought her hunger might overcome her completely. She could not imagine dining like this every evening, or even living in a house as grand as Westerhall Manor, thought perhaps she might be able to if she tried.

  “Now that we are all here,” Lord Spencer said, interrupting Elizabeth’s thoughts, “let us dine.”

  As dinner was served, the dining party was, at first, silent. The delicious food was the culprit to begin with but as time passed, it became clear that no one was positive how to begin a conversation. Finally, Rebecca was the first to speak.

  “Miss Jane, I have heard from a little bird that Mr. Bingley has grown quite fond of you. You are the envy of many a girl in Hertfordshire. London as well, I would imagine.”

  Elizabeth knew that her dear, shy sister would be uncomfortable answering questions about Mr. Bingley, thus Elizabeth asked a question of her own.

  “Miss Spencer, however did you hear a rumor like that?”

  She took a moment to enjoy a few tastes of her food before she answered. If it had been Caroline Bingley or Louisa Hurst who asked the question, Elizabeth would see malice in it. But Rebecca appeared to be asking out of a genial curiosity for which Elizabeth could not fault her.

  “Miss Bingley wrote me a letter alluding to it while I was still in Reading, though I know not why. Her letters are often quite strange and sometimes very unpleasant, but they are also rare for which I am grateful. I am never positive if she is telling me the truth or lies, but I am also rarely in a situation where I might confirm one of her tall tales. So, Miss Jane, is it true?”

  What possible benefit would Caroline Bingley derive from telling Rebecca Spencer about her brother and my sister, Elizabeth wondered. Miss Rebecca hardly seemed the sort to spread idle gossip, a characteristic she only just confirmed when she came to Jane with the rumor rather than ask others in town. Did the Spencer family have some social connections that Elizabeth was unaware of? That seemed like the sort of think Miss Caroline Bingley would be anxious to take advantage of. She wondered until it was clear she had remained distanced from the conversation for too long and needed to return her attention to her dinner companions.

  “And Elizabeth? What do you think of this news from Miss Bingley?” Mr. Darcy asked, his noble brow marked with curiosity.

  “Well,” she began, looking around the table, “it is obvious he is an intelligent and decent man, for he keeps his company well. Besides, any gentleman would be the luckiest in Hertfordshire to marry my sister. She is a treasure and a saint.” Jane’s cheeks turned rosy at the compliment, which they were wont to do.

&n
bsp; “I agree, Miss Bennet. Charles is a wonderful man who would be lucky to have Miss Jane as his bride,” Lord Spencer said, lifting his glass for a toast. “To marriage! And all the pleasure it brings. May each of us be blessed by the holy bonds of it. Except, of course, for my sister, Rebecca, who will be sent straight to our cousins in America the moment she mentions the word.”

  “Oh, Adrian!” Rebecca said with a hearty laugh. Her laugh was cut short, however, when Mr. Darcy stood from his chair, almost knocking it to the floor as he did.

  “I apologize for my hasty departure but I suddenly do not feel well. I think I might lay down for a while and then join you again for tea later. Pardon me,” Darcy said, quickly leaving the room before anyone could prevent him from doing so or enquire further about his illness.

  “More pudding and shrewsbury cakes for us, right Rebecca?” Adrian said with a smile in his sister’s direction. Lord Spencer called for the dessert, a fact over which Elizabeth could scarcely hide her excitement, but she could not help but wonder after Mr. Darcy. What had really hastened his departure so? And why did he depart so quickly once a marriage between Jane and Mr. Bingley was mentioned? Elizabeth could not quite put her finger on the cause of her suspicions, but she knew something was amiss.

  Chapter 7

  Dinner and tea had long since passed, the merriment of which was slightly spoilt by the sudden illness of Mr. Darcy. Lord Spencer sent his housekeeper to check on the gentleman several times throughout the night, and each time, she returned to tell them that Darcy requested only to be let alone so he might sleep. It was the answer that Elizabeth expected from such a steadfast and indifferent man, though she also could not help but worry as she lay in her bed, unable to fall asleep.

  First, she attempted to whisper the prose of study as a girl in hopes the repetition might soothe her mind. When that failed, Elizabeth hummed softly to herself, as her mama did when they were children. At last, when she realized she missed the gentle sounds of her sister sleeping across the room, she stood from the bed and put on her slippers and dressing gown. Once she was protected against the chill of such a large manor at night, Elizabeth slipped out her door and down the first formidable wing of Westerhall.

  When Elizabeth thought that a walk throughout the manor might tire her, she was, indeed, correct. It was not long before she yawned and realized that she was ready to return to her room. There was only one problem…

  She was dreadfully lost.

  Every hall began to look exactly like the last. Even the portraits that hung from the walls appeared to look like one another. The Spencer family was formidable and most forbidding of all, very similar. She could not use one family member to guide her path as a moment later, she would come across an uncle or cousin who looked very much like Adrian. After what felt like hours of wandering, and making no progress, Elizabeth finally believed she saw candle light emanating from a room not far from where she now stood.

  She could not imagine would else would be awake at this late hour of the night. If her sister found herself sleepless, she would have come to Elizabeth’s room. She almost hoped that it was not Adrian. She did not wish for him to discover her sneaking about his home in the middle of the night. Elizabeth knew it was not proper and she was not sure how her transgression would be received.

  With her legs shaking at every step, Elizabeth approached the library, where she found the fire lit as well. There was a glass of port resting on a table and book set next to it. She could see the arm of a gentleman, but Elizabeth could not quite determine to whom it belonged. For a moment, she considered turning and running back into the depths of Westerhall with the hopes that someone found her asleep on the floor when the sun rose. But Elizabeth knew that was not a proper answer to her dilemma, so with hesitation, crept into the library.

  Elizabeth walked slowly to the chair and was only just about to whisper Adrian’s name when Mr. Darcy stood up and frightened her so that she almost fainted dead away.

  “Mr. Darcy! I am sorry for disturbing you. I did not expect to come upon anyone,” Elizabeth said.

  She was yet again tempted to run, until to her great surprise, she spotted a book of poetry in his hand. It was a collection of the works of William Blake, one of her favorites. Elizabeth could scarcely believe Mr. Fitzwilliam was a lover of poetry. It only took a moment of staring before he realized that she was staring at him with great intent.

  “Miss Bennet? Is something the matter? Why are you awake at such an hour?” Darcy inquired.

  She thought she might not tell him the truth, but if she turned on her heel and ran away, she would never find her way back to her room, nor would she look like the proper young woman that her mother insisted she be. If Mrs. Bennet discovered that any of her daughters had been rude to a gentleman of Mr. Darcy’s consequence, she would have them thrown into the stable with the horses for a fortnight. Instead, she stepped toward him and pointed at the book in his hand.

  “You enjoy William Blake? I would not have taken you for lover of poetry or prose,” Elizabeth said.

  Mr. Darcy smiled at her, an expression that made him appear handsome.

  “I am, but Miss Bennet, you did not answer my question. Why are you not in bed? It is very late.”

  Elizabeth pulled her coat tighter around her and realized she must tell the truth, since any other answer would only make her look more odd.

  “I am afraid I have done something quite silly. I could not sleep and thought that a walk might fatigue me. Then I found myself quite lost. I have been wandering through Westerhall for some time now.”

  When he heard what she had been up to, Darcy laughed with a lightness that only furthered to soften his more severe features. Elizabeth felt a soft flutter in her chest that surprised her.

  “Well, Miss Bennet, I must say that I, too, could use a bit of a walk. I slept earlier when I was feeling ill and now I am quite awake. Shall we wander these halls together until we find your room?”

  Elizabeth knew that she should tell the gentleman no. It was not appropriate for her to be with a man at night while she was wearing little more than a dressing gown. However, she did need to find her room again, and if Mr. Darcy could direct her, there was no harm in allowing him to do so…

  Was there?

  Chapter 8

  Elizabeth maintained a proper distance from Mr. Darcy as they began their unexpected night time tour of Westerhall. As they began their journey, neither said a word. Though Elizabeth could not begin to guess the reasons of the gentleman, she chose silence to ensure that she did not say something silly that would embarrass her entire family. It did not help that she knew her sister was asleep somewhere near, reminding Elizabeth that the future of her sister’s marriage to Charles Bingley was tied to the way they behaved in front of Darcy. She did not wish to do or say anything improper and ruin the reputation of her sister in the process.

  After passing what appeared to be Duke Spencer’s study, Darcy lead Elizabeth through the dining room and back to the kitchen. She was in awe of the fancy dishes and unusual foods she saw everywhere. Everything was in its place and sparkling clean. Elizabeth believed she could stay in that kitchen happily for the rest of her life. Even so, she was quite surprised when Darcy stopped there and sat on a stool in the corner near the stove.

  Mr. Darcy gestured to the table in front of him, where a tray of cakes was set out for the next day.

  “Shall we make sure they are good enough for tea tomorrow?” he asked.

  Elizabeth had a love of sweets and there was little that could prevent her from enjoying a cake. She wrapped herself a little bit tighter in her dressing gown and took small steps to where Darcy was now standing.

  “I suppose there is no harm in tasting one,” Elizabeth said as she reached out for one of the small cakes. “Mr. Darcy, I must ask you a question. How is it that you know Westerhall Manor so well?”

  Darcy took a bite of a cake before he answered Elizabeth’s question.

  “I spent more t
han one holiday here as a boy, under the tutelage of Duke Spencer. My father believed I would learn more about being a gentleman from him, but my father was quite misinformed. I would have done better to learn about being a gentleman from one of the pigs.”

  Elizabeth gasped in shock, then, though she did not mean to for fear of appearing rude, she began to laugh. Once she started laughing, she found it quite difficult to stop. Even Mr. Darcy betrayed his decorum and hid his laughter behind his hand.

  “I apologize for laughing, Mr. Darcy. I simply did not expect you to say something so… colorful?”

  The gentleman smiled.

  “No one would ever have accused Felton Spencer of being a kind man. But his wife, Juliana, was the one thing in this world that he truly loved. Her presence seemed to calm him, somehow. Lady Spencer was a dear woman, very much like her children in every way. In spite of the poorly manners of Duke Spencer, Juliana ensured that Westerhall was a home filled with love. Then, one winter, she began coughing. The coughing did not stop until her death in the spring.”

  Elizabeth nodded. She was young when Lady Juliana Spencer passed, but she remembered the day well.

  “After that,” Darcy continued, “Adrian and Rebecca spent many a day at Pemberley. I scarcely remember a Christmas after Juliana died when her children were not with my own family.”

  A question entered Elizabeth’s mind and she knew if she did not ask it then, she might not ever again have a chance.

  “Mr. Darcy, I was wondering if, perhaps, you know why Lord Spencer has spent so much time in India?”

  Darcy hesitated for a moment, a hint of distress resting heavy in the air. When he finally spoke, his voice was void of his usual confident tone.

  “Duke Spencer always had business in India and I believe Adrian has been tending to it for some time, as his father was not well enough for the long journey by ship. I could not speculate any reason beyond that.”