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Unforgiving Temper

Page 29

by Head, Gail


  “No!” she cried. “That is, I thank you for your concern, but there is no need to trouble yourself. Please, I must go now.”

  Darcy reluctantly released his hold and watched her walk back through the columns and into the ballroom. After all the weeks of agonized searching, their time together had been distressingly short-lived; but tomorrow he would see her again. Then he would perform the difficult task of relating the details of the rumors and what could be done about them, including how prudent it would be to accept his offer of marriage. If fortune was on his side, he could then claim the privilege of accompanying her home. Their time spent travelling together would give him every opportunity to show her he was not the man she had thought him to be last April!

  Elizabeth quickly made her way across the room, and Darcy was compelled to follow at a slight distance, wanting to assure himself that she truly was not in need of his assistance. At that moment, the dance ended and an exchange of partners for the next dance sent a rush of people to fill what little distance there was between Darcy and Elizabeth, pushing them further apart. Suddenly Elizabeth paused, looking back over her shoulder and when her eyes met his across the room, she gave him a brief, unobtrusive smile. With a slight rise of her brow, she then turned and continued on.

  Darcy kept moving forward, noting with frustration that the crowd only seemed to grow between them. He pressed on, keeping the retreating vision of pale blue and silver in sight until he was abruptly halted by a piercing cry of indignation.

  “Watch where you are going, young man! You nearly trampled me!”

  Darcy looked down briefly to see a richly-dressed matron fanning herself frantically, her face flushed with annoyance.

  “I do beg your pardon, madam. I assure you I meant no offense. Please, excuse me!”

  Darcy offered a quick bow and looked back to Elizabeth, only to find her gone. Ignoring the older woman's continued tirade on the abominable manners of the younger generation, he moved in the direction he had last seen her.

  Gaining the top of the main staircase, Darcy caught sight of Elizabeth two flights down, descending with a man and another young lady. He reached the entrance to Hartley Park just as she entered a waiting carriage. The gentleman accompanying her followed her in and Darcy paused at the sight. He had not seen the man's face, but there was something oddly familiar about him.

  * * * *

  Outside in the glowing lanterns that lined the steps, Lord Grissholm hid his anxiety as he shot one final look up to the ballroom windows before hastily handing Rebecca and Elizabeth into the waiting carriage. Following them in, he settled into the shadowy darkness across from the two ladies and allowed himself a small sigh of relief.

  It had been an unwelcome surprise to find Darcy at the ball and dancing with Elizabeth. He wanted them to meet, yes; but not here and not now. He had yet to secure Elizabeth's regard sufficient to deal the crushing blow he wanted Darcy to feel. From his observation of the two, there had been very little conversation, especially on Elizabeth's part. He felt sure the boy he had sent to retrieve her from the corridor had intervened before any real damage had been done, and for once, Elizabeth did not choose to argue the point when he announced his intention to leave immediately.

  Now searching for a plausible explanation for their precipitous departure, he exclaimed cheerfully, “Well, ladies, I do apologize for ending the evening so early; but it seems I have received some news from London and we must be off first thing in the morning.”

  “London!” Elizabeth cried anxiously. “So sudden? Is something wrong, my lord?”

  “Not at all, Miss Bennet. There is no need for alarm. It is only that I finally have news of a certain party,” he said, directing a meaningful glance towards Elizabeth, “and time is short. If it is inconvenient, I could travel alone.”

  “Oh, no, my lord! It is not inconvenient in the least. I am happy to leave any time you wish.”

  Rebecca squeezed Elizabeth's hand in the darkness. “London! I have never been to London. I think I shall not be able to sleep a wink thinking about it!”

  From the pale glow of the carriage lantern, Lord Grissholm could see the same anticipation in Elizabeth, although he was certain hers was not for the same reasons. Regular doctor's reports that had given assurances of her father's well-being, although utterly fictitious, had allowed him to delay their departure to London much longer than he had thought possible. The extra time had done wonders in furthering his relationship with her.

  The more time he spent with Elizabeth, the more he was sure of what he wanted. She was not Catherine, of course – no one would ever replace her – but Elizabeth was spirited and charming; and winning her affection would be a challenging accomplishment. Something that only enhanced the anticipated pleasure of Darcy's keen disappointment.

  The ball tonight had been a critical test and she had passed with flying colors. He had watched her closely, admiring her natural grace and ease in company. Society did not intimidate her nor diminish her spirited nature. Yes, she would do very well.

  Things were moving along nicely, but Darcy's unexpected arrival in Cumberland called for a definite change of plans. The unfortunate meeting tonight necessitated moving the timetable up a bit. It was not a huge setback; however, the last thing he wanted right now was for Fitzwilliam Darcy to be anywhere near Elizabeth. He needed to get her away from Everton as soon as it could be arranged. Even if it meant the servants would spend the entire night packing, they would be well on their way to London ere the sun topped Dent Fell.

  At least Elizabeth and Rebecca will be on their way. He thought to himself in the darkness. I have some business to attend with Darcy before I join them in London.

  Chapter 21

  Standing apart from the other men who were actually enjoying their brandy and cigars, Darcy absently swirled the amber liquid in his glass, drinking very little. Driscoll's dinner party was proving to be informative, but not in the way he had anticipated. Already anxious at Elizabeth's failure to meet him in the park, Darcy had hoped to see her again tonight. When she did not appear, the evening had begun a long, downward spiral that was only to be endured through sheer willpower. Not only was Darcy keenly disappointed by Elizabeth's absence, but other worries began to surface as Grissholm's solitary appearance quickly became the favorite subject of endless speculation among the other guests.

  With a head full of unanswered questions, there was little else Darcy could think of except the whispered comments he had overheard at dinner. Miss Bennet has certainly made an impression at Everton Manor…even if she is a friend of Miss Ballard's, no one knows anything about her…What is Lord Grissholm thinking?…quite surprised she is not here protecting her interest... The references to Elizabeth and the persistent connection to Grissholm's name had only served to increase his concern. Could there be an attachment?

  He allowed himself to consider the possibility for a brief moment, and then the memory of Elizabeth's scathing assessment of his own unintentional arrogance and conceit stabbed at his heart. It seemed inconceivable that she would welcome the attentions of a man of Grissholm's disposition; a man who was never seen to give the least consideration to anyone beneath his social sphere unless it suited his interest. The only exception was Catherine Monroe, and her sudden disappearance from Cambridgeshire their last year at university had done nothing to improve the crestfallen viscount's temperament.

  Grissholm's evident interest in Elizabeth made no sense; but then, after the events of the past several months, nothing made sense any more.

  All through the evening, Darcy's quiet observations had assured him that time had not changed Grissholm in the least. His jaw tightened defiantly. No, he would not believe Elizabeth's affections could be engaged by such a man, not until he heard it from her own lips.

  “Darcy, strange that we should meet so far from London; and in my own little corner of the kingdom,” Grissholm's smooth voice intruded upon Darcy's thoughts. “To what do we owe this rare honor?”
r />   Darcy turned to Grissholm with cool civility, still feeling the old resentment for the unfounded suspicions regarding Catherine Monroe. While the two men had never been more than passing, obligatory acquaintances before their years together at Cambridge, they were now even less; evidenced by the smoldering undercurrent of animosity that instantly filled the air between them.

  “Grissholm. Last I checked, one is allowed to travel about the country without being required to explain oneself – or am I mistaken?”

  “Not at all, not at all!” Grissholm smiled with little enthusiasm. “I just wondered that you would choose to be sightseeing so far north this time of year.”

  “And I wonder that you would concern yourself with my travels at all.”

  “Only when they result in you dancing with a particular lady.”

  “Ah, Miss Bennet, you mean. And when has my dancing partner ever been your concern?”

  “It is my concern when the lady is under my protection.”

  “Your protection? Is there a connection? Are you a relative perhaps?” Darcy probed.

  “No relation – yet. I am feeling generous this evening, Darcy, so I will tell you she came to us as a new acquaintance. My young ward was desirous of female companionship and Miss Bennet was kind enough to oblige.”

  “Hertfordshire is not an easy distance. I am surprised that you would know Miss Bennet at all.”

  “It seems that you are well-acquainted with the lady,” Grissholm countered. “I did not know you enjoyed country society outside of Pemberley.”

  “We met when I was assisting Charles Bingley with some property. Have you been to Hertfordshire, sir?”

  “Not at all. My ward and Miss Bennet were introduced through a mutual friend this past year and the girl was so insistent I thought I had better extend the invitation. Mind you, I was not entirely amenable to the idea at first, but now I confess I find Miss Bennet to be quite delightful. I have had the pleasure of her company for some time now and she is an intriguing piece of femininity. Would you not agree?”

  Darcy forced a smooth, unruffled expression to his face. A tiny twitch of his eye was the only evidence that Grissholm's ill-mannered words had found their mark.

  “I am not in the habit of discussing a lady in those terms and I will ask you not to speak of Miss Bennet in that manner.”

  Grissholm smirked. “If you like. But I will say that for all her independence, she does have a certain vulnerability and she has come to rely upon me in many ways. So you see, I take a personal interest in the company she keeps. One cannot be too careful, you know – especially at a ball. She may very well find herself forced into a most uncomfortable situation.”

  “If you are referring to my dance with Miss Bennet, I can assure you she was not forced into anything. I know the lady to be quite capable of choosing whether she wishes to dance or not.”

  “I did observe a measure of persuasion on your part, Darcy; and a man of your stature – how could she refuse?”

  “You may be surprised. I think you underestimate her strength of mind.”

  “Actually, I am well-acquainted with her strength of mind, along with a number of other very charming qualities.”

  “The question is how well is she acquainted with your qualities.”

  “If one did not know better, one would think you had a particular interest in the lady,” Grissholm peered at Darcy with obvious relish.

  “Only as a previous acquaintance. Nothing more,” Darcy replied tightly. He knew Grissholm was provoking him, and the continued discussion of Elizabeth was eating at his restraint. “If you will excuse me, I would have a word with Driscoll.”

  “Very well, I can see you are finished with our conversation. It has been most enlightening,” Grissholm smirked. “I see now why she chose me over you.”

  Darcy froze in mid-stride and turned, his restraint finally slipping. “What?”

  “The messenger at Sir Henry's ball? I offered Miss Bennet a means of escape by requesting her company. As you have implied, she possesses a somewhat independent nature. She could have waited until your conversation was finished, but she did not.” His lips curled into a malicious grin. “A very prudent choice on her part, I must say.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “It means I have not forgot Cambridge. Young ladies have a habit of disappearing around you, Darcy; and she was wise enough to leave when she did.”

  “That is utterly ridiculous!” Darcy sneered disdainfully. “I say now what I said then. I had nothing to do with Catherine Monroe leaving you. I barely knew the girl. You were the one – ”

  “You can say what you will when there is none to refute you, but I know better. As for Miss Bennet, I felt it my duty to do what I could to keep her safe, and – ” Grissholm paused to give his final words their full weight, “ – evidently she agreed with me!”

  It took every ounce of self-control Darcy possessed to turn and walk away from Grissholm. He would not dishonor his friend, Driscoll, in front of the other guests nor would he give Grissholm the satisfaction of knowing he had provoked him beyond measure.

  Catching sight of Driscoll and his brother standing near the windows, Darcy quickly moved toward them, missing Grissholm's perverse look of triumph that followed him.

  The rest of the evening became an excruciatingly difficult exercise in forbearance. Grissholm's unusual display of high spirits, which Darcy knew to be for his benefit, only deepened his resentment. Driscoll's subtle attempts to smooth over the obvious discord between the two had no effect.

  Therefore, at the exact moment it was acceptable to withdraw without offending his host, Darcy retreated to his rooms, not making any effort to hide his deep disappointment when he saw Denham waiting. A heavy silence reined as the valet assisted him out of his evening clothes.

  After a time, Darcy finally spoke, his voice quiet and somber. The words seemed to be directed more to himself than the valet.

  “Apparently Driscoll was right about the rumors. Everyone seemed to be expecting her tonight; expecting her to be with him! He was insufferable! But what does this all mean, actually?”

  The heaviness closed in once again and contemplation creased Darcy's brow as Denham nimbly stripped the remaining layers of clothing.

  As Darcy's head came through the opening of his nightshirt, he came to life with a sudden idea, nearly causing the startled Denham to drop the silk damask dressing gown he held in his hands.

  “Denham, how well are you received below stairs?”

  Denham paused momentarily in his efforts to retrieve the dressing gown and considered the question. “Well, enough, I suppose – sir.”

  “Do you think you could make some fairly direct inquiries without inciting the servants to gossip?”

  “Yes, Mr. Darcy, I believe so. I have found Mrs. Vickery, Mr. Driscoll's housekeeper, to be a steady, trustworthy sort of woman. I am confident she would be happy to assist me in any way possible.” He showed no emotion as Darcy turned an inquisitive eye on him, and the valet quickly moved away before the color rising in his face could betray him. “What sort of information are you seeking, sir?”

  Choosing to ignore the implications of his valet's reaction, Darcy pursued his newly-formed plan. “I should like to know exactly how Miss Bennet is regarded at Everton Manor. How she came to be in the neighborhood. How she is regarded by Lord Grissholm and his ward; things of that sort. Do you think you can manage it?”

  “I believe so. I will ask Mrs. Vickery for her assistance at the earliest opportunity.”

  “I want to know the moment you have any information – anything at all.”

  “Yes, sir, the very moment.”

  “Thank you, Denham,” Darcy said, feeling the tension of the evening finally take its toll. “That will do for tonight.”

  “Very good,” the valet answered with a small bow. He withdrew quietly, but kept a concerned eye upon his master until the door to the dressing room closed between them.

/>   Darcy stood unmoving in the empty room, the disappointment and frustration of the evening running through his head, especially his encounter with Grissholm; but in his exhausted state, he could not grasp any thought long enough to examine it with any success.

  Acknowledging his need to lie down before he collapsed, he moved wearily to the great four-poster bed that dominated his room and stretched out on the crisp, white cotton sheets. After several unsuccessful attempts to find a comfortable position, Darcy finally gave up and lay flat on his back, staring at nothing. His mind throbbed with an excess of fragmented details as he waited for a merciful, mindless sleep to come – but it did not.

  * * * *

  For Darcy, time crept forward at a snail's pace as he waited on Denham's expertise to gather the needed information from Driscoll’s housekeeper. Long morning rides and shooting parties in the afternoons could not keep his mind occupied. No matter how hard he tried, his tortured thoughts conjured up visions of Elizabeth and Grissholm together as Grissholm's taunting words came again and again. …she chose me over you!

  The third afternoon following the dinner party, Darcy entered Driscoll's library, searching for a distraction. Though a good volume on philosophy normally served the purpose, he could not find anything in the extensive collection to hold his interest for more than five minutes.

  Eventually giving up on the idea entirely, he moved away from the bookshelves and wandered to the window overlooking Driscoll's prized gardens. The view offered only the dying remnants of what had once been lush and verdant summer blossoms full of life and beauty.

  Did Elizabeth really care for Grissholm? If she was not seduced by Wickham, how did she come to be here? The immensity of the implications was slowly pulling him down into a deep despair that offered no hope of relief, no way to ease the desperate anxiety he felt. A sudden noise at the far side of the room caught his attention and he squared his shoulders, drawing in a deep, fortifying breath. He then turned to see Denham entering the library, obviously in search of his master. Darcy waited with eager restraint as Denham swiftly navigated the several chairs and tables that stood between them.

 

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