Unforgiving Temper

by Head, Gail

“Rumors of your compromised reputation were apparently not enough for some. The reports have grown into the belief that obvious consequences require your extended absence for a requisite number of months. You have been gone nearly four months now. Add that to the three or four months where your supposed condition could have gone unnoticed, and you will understand why time is so short.”

  “Do you mean to say that people think I …that I am...that is the condition to which you were referring?!”

  “Yes, I am afraid so.”

  “How could they possibly think that I…oh, this is dreadful! What has been done?”

  “When the rumors first started, every possible attempt was made to quash them, but it could not be done. We then searched for the mysterious woman, hoping to wring an explanation from her, but she left no trace beyond Meryton. No one has any idea of who she is or where she came from.”

  “I know exactly who she was,” Elizabeth flared indignantly. “It was Mrs. Younge! She was furious with me when we parted at Everton, and promised to repay me. I have no doubt this rumor was her revenge.”

  The revelation startled Darcy. “Mrs. Younge? Mrs. Ann Younge!?”

  “The very same woman you dismissed at Ramsgate. Regrettably, I have experienced her duplicity firsthand. It seems she and Mr. Wickham still enjoy one another's company.”

  “I knew it! This whole affair smacked of Wickham, but I could not prove it!”

  “He had everything neatly arranged long before he came to me. It must have been so, because once he had my cooperation, my departure was almost immediate. The only one who knew anything to be other than it appeared was my father, but he did not know the whole of it nor that it was Mr. Wickham pulling the strings – and I had no idea my travelling companion was to be the infamous Mrs. Younge of your letter.”

  “I should have guessed. She and Wickham go back a very long way. Did you not suspect anything in her manner to alert you?”

  “No, nothing at all. She presented herself at Longbourn as a Mrs. Tipton, and was all ease and friendliness. It was only when Mr. Wickham joined us, very soon into our journey, that I discovered her real name.”

  “I am guessing she was the 'distant relation' with whom you were supposed to be traveling?”

  “Yes. To discover her real identity was quite a shock. Your sketch of her character was all I could think of. I could not imagine what was going to happen.”

  “Was there nothing you could do?”

  “Nothing,” she replied a little too sharply, her eyes hardening at the memory. “They took what little money I had even before we left Hertfordshire, leaving me completely at their mercy. Mr. Wickham is every bit the scoundrel you had described, and more.”

  Darcy nodded in grim understanding and they walked a few paces in silence. Elizabeth worked to push the unpleasant memories back into the corner of her mind, and Mr. Darcy, she discovered when he next spoke, had been struggling to dispel unpleasant thoughts of his own.

  “Wickham's deed is unconscionable and I assure you he will answer for it; however, you must know that it is crucial you return to Longbourn as soon as may be. Once you have been away beyond everyone's expectations, it will be very difficult, if not impossible, to disprove the rumors.”

  Utterly frustrated with the perverseness of her situation, Elizabeth struggled to keep her temper in check. “I understand, Mr. Darcy! Believe me, I do! I shall return the very instant I am able to, but there are certain aspects of Mr. Wickham's scheme that must be resolved before that is possible.”

  “If I may ask, Miss Bennet, why did you agree to Wickham's design in the first place? Did you not believe my account of him?”

  “Oh, yes, I quite believed you. Once I began to observe Mr. Wickham without prejudice, I could see that he was not the man I thought him to be. Would that I had done the same for you,” she murmured softly. “I agreed to his scheme, Mr. Darcy, because he threatened to destroy my family's reputation. Mr. Bingley's return to Netherfield had given me every hope that he would renew his addresses to my sister, and I could not allow Mr. Wickham to ruin it.”

  “Your family is one of long standing in Hertfordshire. I cannot imagine any of Wickham's lies would stand against the word of your father.”

  “Indeed not, if his threats were based on lies; but they are not. He holds letters that were written to him by my youngest sister, Lydia. Their content, if known, would be enough to destroy our family, and he has promised to publish them if I return before he wishes. So you see, the letters must be recovered first or my going home would be just as ruinous as staying away. Lord Grissholm has been working diligently to recover them, and I am hopeful he will succeed very soon.”

  “Miss Bennet, I do not wish to offend, however, I know Robert Grissholm too well to believe he would expend his time and resources in assisting a companion to his ward without expecting something in return. I would caution you with all urgency to have a care.”

  Elizabeth studied Darcy's face. She was tempted to ease his mind as to Lord Grissholm's intentions by disclosing the depth of their relationship, but was it wise? Would it help heal the breach between the two men or only make it worse? It took only a moment for her to decide. She had asked for and received honesty from Mr. Darcy, and she could do no less in return.

  “His lordship is not so menacing as you seem to think, sir,” Elizabeth gently rebuked him. “He has done nothing objectionable. Quite the opposite, in fact. When he discovered Mr. Wickham's power over me, he was exceedingly sympathetic and offered to render whatever assistance was needed. As to his expectations…he has made me an offer of marriage.”

  Darcy stopped in midstride, his face draining of all color, and it was a full minute before he regained sufficient composure to respond to the devastating revelation.

  “Have you accepted?” he asked quietly.

  “I have asked for time to speak with my father, or at least try to, before I give him my answer. I only tell you this so that you can see his intentions are honorable.”

  “Forgive me if I do not share your sentiments, Miss Bennet. In spite of what you have told me, I still question his motives. Would it not be prudent for you to question them as well? Marriage is an irrevocable undertaking.”

  “I have no cause to think ill of his lordship,” Elizabeth replied.

  Darcy's eyes seemed to look straight into her soul. “Can you claim a deep affection for him, then?”

  Elizabeth glanced away, unable to meet his eyes. A deep affection? No, but until I know what has happened between Jane and Mr. Bingley, this may be the only chance I have to keep my family from penury. I was once naïve enough to think I would marry only for love – before Mr. Wickham turned my life inside out, before father fell so ill! If he should die, we will all be dependent upon Mr. Collins for our every need; and after refusing his hand, I have no great hope for his charity. I would marry Napoleon himself, if it would keep dear Jane and the rest of the family safe!

  She had been silent too long. “That is not an appropriate question, sir,” she told him.

  “Perhaps not,” he replied with a slight smile before turning serious again. “I had not thought to mention this until I had more information, but under the circumstances, I feel you must know it is very possible that you are being deceived.”

  “In what way, Mr. Darcy?”

  “I have received a report that Wickham has come into a sum of money.”

  “It is quite possible that Lord Grissholm has finally completed his dealings. That is very good news!”

  Darcy remained grave, unwilling to share in her enthusiasm.

  “As I said before, I believe you are being deceived. While I received the information just yesterday, the report suggests that he received the funds no less than three weeks ago.”

  Elizabeth's smile faded at once. Three weeks? That was not possible. Lord Grissholm had assured her he would inform her as soon as he succeeded in his negotiations, and as of this morning there had been no news. There must be some mistake, s
ome misunderstanding that Mr. Darcy was not aware of.

  “Mr. Darcy, did your report indicate where the funds came from?”

  “No, it did not,” he admitted grudgingly. “There are other reports I have yet to receive which could verify the source, as well as other suspicious dealings regarding the viscount.”

  Elizabeth was thoughtful for a moment. Although she had discovered Mr. Darcy to be an honorable man, Lord Grissholm had given her no reason to think him any less.

  “Mr. Wickham is a very resourceful man. It is possible his new-found capital has come from someone other than Lord Grissholm. His lordship's efforts on my behalf deserve far more courtesy than to suspect him of deceit, especially based on so little evidence. I have learned the difficult lesson of not judging a person too quickly, especially as regards the respect due a man who has proposed marriage,” said Elizabeth, looking down with a sudden blush on her cheeks, “and I do not wish to be found wanting a second time.”

  “I understand,” Darcy said softly. “When I have more substantial information, I shall send word.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Darcy.” Elizabeth gave him an understanding smile and offered a farewell curtsy. Looking up to his face as she rose, she was momentarily held captive by the intensity of his gaze. Another enigmatic sensation fluttered through her before she pulled her eyes away.

  “I should be going. Miss Ballard will be wanting my company.”

  She turned and walked away, only looking back after she had put a safe distance between herself and the source of the unexpected sensations. She had left him standing near a large elm, and he was there still, the sun casting a long shadow behind him. She could feel more than see his eyes following her departure. A few more steps and she was hidden from him by a high stone wall.

  Walking briskly now, she shivered at the penetrating wind cutting through her pelisse. The quickened pace brought her back to Peyton House just as the clock in the hallway chimed three o'clock.

  Raising gloved hands to warm her icy cheeks, Elizabeth hurried to check on Rebecca and then went to her own rooms. Within minutes Molly appeared and replaced the fashionable but woefully thin coat with a thick woolen robe, clucking her tongue and wondering at the wisdom of going out on such a cold day. Without complaint, Elizabeth allowed herself to be guided to the large, overstuffed chair that had been moved closer to the fire. She settled into the comfortable cushions, accepting a cup of hot tea as soon as it was brought up and savoring the warmth that spread through her body with each sip. Meditating upon her surprising conversation with Mr. Darcy, she did not stir until Molly returned an hour later to help her dress for dinner.

  Rebecca was still too ill to come down, which left Elizabeth and Lord Grissholm to dine alone. All through dinner and the hours after, Elizabeth watched the viscount with new interest and weighed each word he spoke, trying to detect any of the deception Darcy had pronounced against him.

  Other than an occasional curious look from him, she failed to see anything objectionable in his attentions, but Mr. Darcy's words remained uppermost in her mind the balance of the evening and into the next day as she prepared to tell Lord Grissholm of the rumors circulating in Hertfordshire. It was only a matter of time before they reached London and it would be better that he heard them directly from her.

  Elizabeth only picked at the little bit of breakfast on her plate, too preoccupied with what she would say to Lord Grissholm to eat any of it. When breakfast was finally cleared away and they were alone, she sipped her tea, waiting for the viscount to come out from behind his morning paper.

  After several minutes wherein he seemed totally oblivious to her presence, she took another sip and resolutely addressed the front page of his fortress.

  “My lord, I have something to tell you that will have direct bearing on your offer. I think you will want to reconsider.”

  Her quiet declaration found its mark. The paper wall crumpled instantly, revealing a curious, unhappy countenance.

  “I doubt there is anything you could say that would make me reconsider.”

  Elizabeth slowly returned her cup to its saucer, taking the time to gather her courage.

  “Perhaps you will think differently when you have heard me out. I have just learned that there are rumors circulating in Hertfordshire regarding my character. They are of a unbelievably dissolute nature.”

  “Is that so?” he replied, showing a little interest. “I have heard nothing.”

  “Fortunately, the gossip has not yet reached London, but shall very soon if I do not act quickly. I think I must release you from any obligation.”

  “Nonsense! Do you think me so changeable as to retreat at the slightest difficulty? Exactly what are these rumors?”

  Elizabeth balked at revealing the humiliating details.

  “Come now, you must know that I only want to help you and I cannot do that unless you tell me.”

  “Well, it is thought that I am…that is, I…that I left Hertfordshire to conceal the effects of an illicit affair.”

  Grissholm suppressed an amused smile. “And you think that will alter my wishes?”

  Elizabeth bristled at his patronizing attitude. He was taking the news much too lightly. “Yes, sir, I believe it must.”

  “Not in the least!”

  “Sir?”

  “You are overreacting. It is ridiculous to think that anyone would take seriously the idle gossip of some bitter, disappointed woman. In any case, it makes little difference to me.”

  “But it does to me! It is my character, my reputation at stake. This must be resolved before we can come to any understanding. I would do you no credit. Even with your position in society, I highly doubt I would be accepted by anyone.”

  “I have no doubts whatsoever, my dear, and I see no reason to change anything as far as our engagement is concerned.”

  “It is not an engagement yet – and I do! If you are not troubled by this, my family is! They have suffered enough these past months and I cannot add to their misery by allowing the rumors to stand. I must return home as soon as possible and set things right. Have you no more news from Mr. Wickham?”

  “No, I have not received anything from him for some time. I will see what can be done,” he replied smoothly, giving her a sympathetic smile. Obviously wishing to change the subject, his eyes traced the lines of her figure and lingered mischievously at her lips. “You look lovely this morning, Elizabeth. I particularly like that shade of green on you.”

  Elizabeth quickly took another sip of tea from her cup, hiding a frown behind the rim. His look and words were nothing he had not said or done before, but this morning, instead of provoking quiet feelings of delight, they only added to her irritation.

  Why was he not concerned for her reputation? Everyone else certainly would be if an engagement was announced. He may not believe the lies, but there were plenty of others more than willing to do so, thanks to Ann Younge.

  Elizabeth remembered the woman's parting words at Everton Manor and the motivation that lay behind this vicious retaliation. Lord Grissholm could not have made a more accurate assessment of the woman's temperament. It was almost as if he knew her.

  In the next breath, Elizabeth stifled a gasp, nearly dropping the pale porcelain cup and spilling the few remaining drops of liquid onto her lap.

  “Elizabeth, is something wrong?” Grissholm frowned in concern.

  “No, I am…quite well,” she stammered in reply, nearly undone by the sudden, startling thought. Avoiding the intent gaze coming from across the table, she concentrated on wiping the errant drops from her lap as the alarming suspicion that had flashed through her mind now blossomed into a glaring certainty. She had not mentioned how the rumor started. She was sure of it. Yet he had already known that the source of the rumors was a “bitter, disappointed woman”, almost as if he had personal knowledge of Ann Younge. Mr. Darcy's warning made the connection all the more credible. Of course Lord Grissholm was not concerned with the rumors – he already knew about t
hem; perhaps more than she knew herself! Indignation swept through her, burning away any remaining doubts.

  Feeling Grissholm's eyes on her, Elizabeth forced a reassuring smile to her lips before she looked up to see that he was, indeed, still watching her. She revealed nothing of the turmoil that was raging inside of her. If he already had knowledge of the rumor, what else did he already have? She would have liked to demand immediate answers, but she was certain a direct confrontation would not produce anything sufficient to relieve her growing dread. Mr. Darcy's words of warning sounded in her head, and she hit upon another way of finding the answers she needed.

  “I wonder, sir, if I might trouble you for the use of your carriage this morning. I thought I would see if the music I ordered for Rebecca has come in. She will want to try it out as soon as she is feeling better.”

  “I am sorry to disappoint you, but I have some business with my attorney and will have need of it this morning.”

  “I understand. Perhaps this afternoon then?”

  “Again, I am afraid I must refuse you. I am meeting with some friends at Boodles. If it can wait until tomorrow, I shall make time to personally escort you wherever you wish to go. Will that do?”

  “Yes, my lord, that will do nicely.” Quite nicely, she thought with grim satisfaction. It was true that she wanted to procure the sheets of music, but they were not at the heart of her request. She had actually wanted to discover his lordship's plans for the day. Now that he had obligingly provided them, she had plans of her own, ones that did not include him.

  Chapter 24

  Elizabeth looked down the empty corridor in both directions, assuring herself she was alone, before quietly lifting the latch to Lord Grissholm's study and slipping inside. She closed the door to its frame, leaving it unlatched so that she might hear any approaching footsteps.

  The afternoon sun angled in through the long, narrow windows, casting a surreal light on everything it touched. Pausing only a moment, she made her way across the room to the imposing desk that had been the scene of Lord Grissholm's proposal only two days before.