A Spy at Pemberley

by Fenella J Miller

  'I take it you've left the eviction to him – a wise move. I sincerely hope that this year will prove to be the last one so packed with drama and intrigue. I long for quiet days filled with our children and family.'

  'About these weddings, Lizzy, I think they should take place as soon as can be arranged. It will be impossible to keep the Sinclair and Hall names out of the hands of the gossips when they eventually unmask the traitor.'

  'My father is determined to have Mary marry Richard by special licence – it might be wise for your cousin and Miss Hall to do the same.'

  'If they send to Doctors' Commons by express they should have the licences before the ball. Why not have the weddings in the morning and the ball as a celebration in the evening? I know Mr Bennet wishes to keep the event intimate, but he can hardly object to it being announced that evening.'

  'My mother, no doubt, will take to her bed in high dudgeon and bemoan the fact that there are to be no visits to warehouses or purchases of bride clothes. That cannot be helped – we shall see the last two unmarried members of our families tie the knot and then we are done with it.'

  'Until all the children are grown and need to be married.'

  'I refuse to contemplate such a thing. I intend to enjoy a peaceful decade or two before that happens.'

  As both their personal servants had been dismissed he would have to assist her disrobe – this was something he enjoyed.

  He had barely drifted into a contented sleep when there was a furious hammering on the door. He jerked upright and was out of bed and pulling on his boots and breeches before he answered.

  'Who is it, Fitzwilliam? Why is someone banging on the door in the middle of the night?'

  'I'm not a clairvoyant, my love, but I'd wager it something to do with the unwanted visitors downstairs.'

  'Do you require me to get dressed and come with you?'

  'Absolutely not. Remain where you are and allow me to deal with it.' By this time he was more or less decently clothed and strode to the door. Rather than speak to whoever it was from inside the bedchamber he stepped out and closed the door behind him.

  Peterson stood there, his hair on end and his expression far from sanguine. He was correctly dressed so obviously had not yet been to his bed.

  'You must come at once, sir, someone has been shot. I've sent for the doctor.'

  Darcy took the secondary stairs at a run. When he was still a considerable distance from the West Wing he could hear the rumpus. There were women shrieking, men shouting and it was only a matter of time before all the guests were awake and wondering what was taking place below them.

  'Where is Colonel Fitzwilliam? Dammit, man, who has been shot?'

  The butler was barely keeping up with him. 'One of the gentlemen, I think, but there is such a furore going on it's hard to tell. The…err...ladies are fighting amongst themselves. It's like a bear garden, forgive me for saying so, sir.'

  'Are carriages ready to depart? Is the baggage loaded?'

  'Yes, sir.'

  'Fetch all the footmen, make sure they are armed with cudgels. This ends now.'

  They had arrived at the double doors that led into this section of Pemberley. It was hard to distinguish one voice from another and he wasn't even sure if his cousin was actually in there. Darcy stiffened his spine and flung the doors open.

  He'd snatched up his loaded and primed pistol as he'd raced from his apartment. He pointed it at the ceiling and pulled the trigger. The deafening noise had the desired effect. The gaudily clad women ceased their screeching and their companions turned as one to stare at him.

  Only then did he see the person who had been shot was his cousin. He was slumped against the wall, a spreading red stain on his left shoulder. He raised a hand to indicate he was not gravely wounded.

  'You will all leave my house this instant. I don't care who shot the colonel.' Whilst he was speaking he drew the second of his duelling pistols, thanking God that he'd had the sense to bring both with him. 'I'm quite prepared to shoot anyone who doesn't follow my instructions to the letter.'

  There was a scuffle behind him and he was surrounded by two dozen men eager to show their loyalty by forcibly evicting anyone who didn't move of their own volition.

  There was another door halfway down this large room which led to a corridor, which in turn opened onto the path that led to the stables. He gestured with his gun and stepped forward – this was enough to set things in motion and within a short while the final carriage was clattering down the drive.

  He returned to see Hugo, looking a bit pale, was on his feet. Peterson had handed him a folded square of clean linen to press against the wound.

  *

  Lizzy ignored Fitzwilliam's order to remain where she was and tumbled out of bed. She grovelled for her discarded garments on the floor where she'd thrown them earlier. This was no good – she would have to light a candle or she would never be able to dress herself successfully.

  Once there was illumination she recovered her undergarments and petticoats and stepped into them. Then it was simple to drop her gown over her head and push her bare feet into her slippers. There was no time to put up her hair so she quickly braided it and left this plait dangling down her back.

  Her mother would be scandalised to see her in such disarray. As Lizzy didn't anticipate meeting her parent before noon tomorrow she believed herself safe to venture forth. Peterson, a normally phlegmatic person, must have been deeply disturbed to arrive at the door in such a state of agitation.

  Whatever her husband had said to her on the subject, she knew what her duty was. If someone had been shot then as the lady of the house she must take care of the injured person.

  It had taken her far too long to get ready and she increased her pace determined to arrive at the West Wing as soon as possible. She had expected to hear raised voices and shrieks but all was quiet. The double doors ahead of her stood open and it was obvious the unwanted guests had already been evicted.

  On stepping inside she saw Fitzwilliam approaching with his arm around his cousin's waist. Hugo didn't look at all the thing and she saw it had been him who had been wounded.

  'Bring him to your study, my dear, we can attend to him there. Has Doctor Bevan been sent for?'

  'He should be here within the hour – unless he's already attending a confinement or someone on his deathbed. You should not have come down, Lizzy, this is no place for a lady.'

  She ignored his comments and issued clear instructions to Peterson about her requirements. It took longer than it should have done to reach the study and she was concerned that the patient was now barely upright.

  The sofa, at least two yards in length, had been prepared as she'd asked. There were also basins of hot water, clean cloths and a variety of other things set out neatly on the table standing to one side.

  The colonel's manservant was waiting to help her husband undress the patient. The sofa, now it had the necessary linen, would make a more than adequate bed until he was well enough to return to his own apartment.

  'I'll leave you to get him settled and then return to do what I can.'

  The clock on the mantelshelf struck two as she left. It was unlikely any of them would get further rest tonight as by the time the physician had attended to the patient it would be dawn.

  Two footmen were waiting outside. 'Can either of you make coffee? I should like jugs fetched to the study as soon as maybe.'

  The taller of the two nodded vigorously. 'I reckon I can, ma'am. The range is burning well as Mr Peterson wanted hot water.'

  'Thank you. If there are any pastries or biscuits available bring them too. We will need at least four cups.'

  He bowed and hurried away to do her bidding. The other servant stared studiously at a point above her head in order to avoid seeing her hair undressed. She wanted to know how Cousin Hugo had come to be injured but could hardly ask a footman. Her lips curved. It was quite ridiculous that she'd been calmly ordering refreshments when Hugo had just been shot.
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  Fitzwilliam called from the study. 'You can come back now, sweetheart, we are ready for you.'

  She deftly cleaned the wound and was concerned to see the bullet remained in his shoulder. It had to come out or the wound would turn putrid. This was something she was not sufficiently skilled to do. 'There, sir, the bleeding has stopped. You will have to wait for the physician to arrive and do the rest.'

  Hugo's valet removed the bloodstained water and dirty cloths, and left them alone.

  'Thank you for your ministrations, Lizzy. I expect you're both eager to know how this injury occurred.'

  Peterson knocked on the door and ushered in the two footmen carrying what she'd requested. They placed it on the table that had been used to hold the basins and bandages and then they too disappeared.

  Fitzwilliam followed them out and she could hear him talking quietly. She hoped was telling them to retire – but she supposed that wasn't possible until the doctor had completed his task and departed.

  Her husband carried over two straight-backed chairs and placed them beside the sofa whilst she attended to the coffee.

  'Now, Hugo, explain to us two things. The first being why you were still in the West Wing at two o'clock in the morning, and the second why you were shot.'

  Lizzy interrupted. 'I also need to know who did it and why they haven't been apprehended.'

  'I could hardly storm in there making demands as they were all my superiors. I talked to the Brigadier – you remember he has the fearsome wife – and he agreed immediately to facilitate the departure of them all.' He sipped his coffee thoughtfully and then with a wry smile continued his story.

  'All was going well and even the ladies seemed resigned to their fate when one of them accosted me. She was less blowsy than the others, I believe she might have been a real lady once, and demanded to know why they had been invited if they were to be evicted so rudely. I explained that only the officers had been included in the invitation. She took offence and struck me across the face…'

  'Good heavens! Why should she do that? You were merely answering her question.'

  His cheeks coloured and he exchanged a helpless glance with her husband as if expecting him to explain. Fitzwilliam left him to flounder before supplying her with the explanation.

  'I expect that Hugo didn't put it as politely as that. He's never been one to mince his words.'

  'Exactly so, Darcy. Unfortunately all might have been well if I hadn't retaliated. My slap landed the doxy on her backside and her protector took offence.'

  Lizzy stared at him. 'In which case, sir, my sympathies are with the female in question. No gentleman slaps a member of the weaker sex.' She placed her cup rather more firmly than was necessary on the tray and stood up. 'If I had known the true circumstances…'

  Fitzwilliam shook his head and his eyes flashed a warning. 'I believe quite enough has been said on the subject, my dear. I shall remain here with my cousin. I suggest that you go up.'

  *

  Darcy scowled at his companion. 'You got your just deserts, I've no sympathy for you. Ah! I can hear footsteps approaching. I shall speak to the doctor and then retire. You must remain in my study overnight. No doubt your man can take care of you.'

  Doctor Bevan was indeed outside. Darcy briefly explained the circumstances and then took the backstairs to his bedchamber. He was shocked that the man he thought he knew so well had behaved so reprehensibly.

  Lizzy was sitting up in bed waiting for him. He stripped off his clothes in the dressing room and joined her. 'This is a damnable mess. Do you think we can let the marriage to Miss Hall proceed knowing what we do about my cousin? Shouldn't we tell her about her future husband?'

  He had thought she would agree with him and demand that he interfere. Yet again his wife surprised him.

  'Initially I thought the same, my love. However, on reflection I think you might have done exactly the same. We didn't enquire, but it's quite possible your cousin warned the woman what would happen if she struck him and she ignored this warning. I'm certain that he would never raise a hand to a real lady or a child, whatever the provocation.' She stretched and smiled. 'Anyway, it's none of our business, is it?'

  'In which case, darling girl, can we finally go to sleep? We will need our wits about us in the morning if we are to come out of this unscathed.'

  She stretched across and kissed his cheek. 'Our guests will be so excited at the prospect of attending not one, but two weddings that everything else will be forgotten. All we have to say is that your cousin injured his shoulder falling down the stairs when in his cups, and that he must remain incommunicado for a few days.'

  He blew out the candle on his bedside table. 'I suppose you intend that I act as proxy for him with his future in-laws?'

  'You will do it splendidly, Fitzwilliam.'

  He slid down beneath the covers taking her with him. The fact that she was now wearing a voluminous nightgown did not pass unnoticed. He abhorred these things and always slept as nature intended.

  'I will speak to Mr Hall but I draw the line at proposing to his daughter in my cousin's stead.'

  She snuggled into his arms, where she was meant to be, before replying. 'I love you, dearest, and have every faith that you will surmount that difficulty as well.'

  Almost immediately her breathing calmed and she was asleep. He was the luckiest man in Christendom to be married to this woman and however much he might dislike it, he would do what she asked of him.

  The End

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