Unforgiving Temper

by Head, Gail

  * * * *

  Darcy leaned wearily against the cushions as Harrison urged the horses away from the church. It was done. George Wickham and Lydia Bennet were married. He looked across to his cousin and allowed himself a little smile.

  “Thank you, Richard. I could not have done it all in so little time without you.”

  “I am always happy to help, cousin. I certainly hope Miss Bennet appreciates the sacrifices you have made on her behalf.”

  Darcy stiffened. “She does not know anything of my involvement and I would not have her enlightened. I ask that you respect my wishes in this.”

  A concerned frown crossed Richard's brow. “Very well, I shall not say a word; but why would you go to all this trouble only to have her ignorant of your involvement?”

  “She has gone back to Hertfordshire; and if she has any feelings for me, they must be genuine – not out of gratitude for what I have done.”

  “What fools are made from love,” Richard murmured to himself. “I fear you are making a mistake with the lady.”

  “A lot has happened these past six months to unsettle her mind, not the least of which is her father's illness. Once she has had time to sort everything out, I will determine how much she should know. If she feels only appreciation for my part in restoring her to her family, then she need not know any more.”

  “As I said, I think you do her a great injustice, but it is for you to decide. What will you do in the meantime?”

  Darcy sighed. “There are a couple of details to attend and then this whole affair can be put behind me for awhile. The first one is a meeting with Grissholm, as soon as I have dropped you off.”

  “You are a better man than I. I cannot bear to share the same room with him. That he behaved as he did and suffers no consequence is more than I can stand.”

  “I do it for Elizabeth. She still claims that she cannot remember very much, which is a great blessing in itself if it is true, and she wants it forgotten by everyone else as soon as possible. There is one last matter to settle concerning Wickham and then I will be done with him as well.”

  The carriage halted at the steps of Tipton Manor, and Colonel Fitzwilliam stepped out of the door now held open by one of his father's footmen. “Will you come in and say hello to Mother? She has been asking about you, you know.”

  “Yes, I know. Lady Matlock is a very attentive aunt,” Darcy grinned good-naturedly. “Tell her I will bring Georgiana on Sunday.”

  With a final nod to the footman, the door was closed and Darcy sat back to watch the passing view as Harrison expertly navigated the busy London streets directly to Peyton House. Upon reaching Robert Grissholm's address, Darcy shrugged off the lingering irritation of having to deal with the man and presented himself at the door.

  Within minutes, he was once again sitting across from the viscount, engaged in a heated exchange.

  “We had agreed you would do nothing until we discussed it!” Darcy cried angrily.

  Ignoring the outcry with strained patience, Grissholm's reply was dismissive, “Now or three months from now, what does it matter?”

  “It matters a great deal! They were married only this morning and if nothing else, his new wife deserves some consideration. You could not wait?”

  “No, I could not. You are lucky I waited until after the wedding. George Wickham is going to pay dearly for depriving me of ten years of happiness, and the sooner the better.”

  “Given your ignoble behavior, I suppose I should not be surprised that you did not keep your word.”

  “Under the present circumstances, I will ignore that insult, Darcy; but be aware that in the future you will answer for any loose words.”

  “Once we are finished with Wickham, there will be no occasion for words between us, you may be sure.”

  “At least we agree on that,” replied Grissholm, returning to the reason for Darcy's outrage. “He has chosen pistols for the duel. My reputation with a sword was a little too much for him, I believe.”

  “Perhaps he fancies himself a crack shot. He has been in training these past months, you know.”

  “Ha! Do you really think those outdated muskets the regiment uses are any comparison to a pair of fine dueling pistols? The new Mrs. Wickham should order her bombazine frock right away. He has no chance.”

  Chapter 29

  Darcy followed the liveried footman up the grand staircase of Jamison Bonham's country manor, his expression as cold as his thoughts. He still was annoyed with Grissholm for arranging Wickham's demise on the very heels of the wedding, and even more so that he had been required to make the half-day journey to settle the final details of the “hunting accident” that had claimed Wickham's life. Grissholm's note had held a hint of urgency – anxious to be rid of the whole affair, no doubt – and Darcy was glad at least that after this day he need never think of Wickham or Grissholm again.

  Pausing in the hallway long enough for the footman to announce his arrival, Darcy was surprised when he stepped not into a sitting room, but a bedchamber; and his astonishment was even greater when he saw Miss Monroe and Bonham lingering at the bedside of a pale and obviously very ill Grissholm.

  Catherine turned in her chair without releasing her hold on Grissholm's hand. “Mr. Darcy! What brings you to Hartsfield Manor? If you have come to join in the hunting, you are too late!” Her voice broke with her last words and she turned back to hide the fresh tears that sprang to her eyes.

  “No, I did not come to…that is to say, I, um –” The fact was, Darcy was not entirely certain why he had come, now that he saw Grissholm's grave state.

  “I asked him to come, my dear,” came Grissholm's raspy reply. “If you would allow, I must speak to Darcy in private; you too, Bonham.”

  Both of them frowned in response. “Do you think it wise?” Bonham murmured quietly, but not enough that Darcy did not hear. “Given your condition, perhaps I should stay.”

  “I am not so far gone that I cannot direct my own affairs. Be so good as to escort Miss Monroe downstairs. She could use some fresh air after being cooped up in here all day.”

  Reluctantly, Catherine allowed herself to be led from the room, hesitating long enough in the doorway for Grissholm to give her a parting smile of encouragement. When the door was shut behind them, the smile faded from his face and Grissholm turned his gaze on Darcy.

  “Wickham's gone to Newcastle.”

  “What?!” Darcy exploded. “There was no question as to the outcome. What the devil happened?”

  “Evidently you were destined to win the duel after all, even if a bit vicariously. It seems that last strike you managed to deliver had lingering effects. When I fired at Wickham, there was a weakness in my arm that caused the shot to go wide. Wickham was a better shot than I had anticipated, and his bullet went clean through the middle of me.”

  “Was there no chance, no way to finish him off? You know as well as I that the man deserves to die.”

  “I was in no shape for another exchange of fire, Darcy. There was nothing I could do to stop him from leaving.”

  Darcy's head tipped back in frustration at Wickham's unending luck. Would the blackguard never feel the consequences of his contemptible behavior? “I knew I should have been the one to do it.”

  “If I remember right, you are bound by a certain promise, but that is neither here nor there now. The point is, he walked away unscathed and I am gut shot and dying.” Grissholm took a moment to catch his breath and then carefully measured Darcy, seeming to reaffirm some thought to himself before continuing. “I have asked you here for two reasons. Firstly, I want you to witness my marriage to Catherine. My family can be difficult at times and having someone of your position as witness would go a long way in deterring any objections they might have. Secondly, I ask you to manage the affairs of her and her sister after I am gone. They will need someone who will not take advantage of their situation.”

  “And you think I am the one to do it?” Darcy asked skeptically, then slowly shook hi
s head. “It is unfortunate Wickham prevailed, but I have no interest in doing your bidding. Had you waited three months to challenge Wickham, as you promised me, then you could have married Miss Monroe at your leisure, and not on your deathbed. And as far as managing anyone's affairs, your own family should more properly take care of your widow. My participation in such an intimate family matter would be viewed as offensive and interfering, I am quite certain.”

  “You have never met my brother, have you? I cannot trust him to help them, Darcy. They would be exposed to every self-serving fortune hunter within a hundred miles. With no protector, I am afraid they would be ruined within the year.”

  “You will have to find another way. I only came because I had my end of the agreement concerning Wickham to complete. Too much has passed between us for anything else. Now that he is gone, there is nothing for me to do. I shall be returning to London immediately.” Darcy stepped back from the bed and silently turned toward the door.

  “What if it were Elizabeth?” Grissholm called after him.

  The words gripped Darcy's heart, stopping him in his tracks, but he did not turn around.

  “What if it were you leaving her alone and unprotected in the world? Would you not want someone like yourself to look out for her?” Grissholm's voice was low and fraught with desperate humility. “Look, Darcy, I know we do not get on. I hated you unjustly for years and caused Miss Bennet a great deal of misery because of it. I know that I do not deserve the slightest consideration, but I am not asking for myself. I am asking for Catherine and Rebecca. They are innocent in all this. They are my responsibility and I have failed them. For their sakes, Darcy, I beg you would reconsider.”

  Grim-faced, Darcy turned to look at Grissholm. “Surely there is someone else more suited to take on the responsibility. This is not my problem to solve and I resent you trying to make it so.”

  “Do you remember when you said that I had set that dog Wickham loose on the Bennet family, and it was my responsibility to muzzle him?”

  “Yes,” Darcy answered, wondering what it had to do with anything now.

  “Well, I realized it was true, and I have made every effort to right whatever wrong has been done, even unto my own death.”

  “And?”

  “And I wonder if you have ever considered – who set the dog loose upon polite society in the first place? How did the son of a steward come to be in company with young ladies such as Catherine? Where was the muzzle then? Because of your family's benevolence, she has suffered nearly ten years from his bite. Surely she does not deserve to suffer any more.”

  Darcy was shaken to the core by Grissholm's words. Personal satisfaction and justice warred within him. I owe him nothing! he thought viciously, but a deep sense of justice pulled at him. He had never understood the enigmatic decision to raise George Wickham as a gentleman; but the damage had been done, and now, as master of Pemberley, it was his responsibility to right the wrongs caused by his father's ill-fated benevolence. As much as he hated Grissholm, the man was right – Catherine Monroe and her sister did not deserve to suffer any more because of Wickham.

  Seeing the guilty look on Darcy's face, Grissholm finally relaxed into his pillows, gasping in pain from the exertion of their argument. “I do not believe you would deny a dying man his last request. In spite of what I have said in the past, I know you are an honorable man and I trust you. Will you do it?”

  Turning away without answering, Darcy slowly paced the room, coming to a stop at the windows to watch Catherine and Bonham walking along the graveled path in the garden below. He had no choice. He could not honorably refuse what was being asked of him. Reluctantly, he turned back to face the man who had been his enemy. “Very well. I shall see that they are looked after.”

  “Thank you. I shall be at peace now knowing she will be cared for.” Grissholm spasmed, then coughed violently, adding to an already bloodied cloth in his hand. His breathing became more labored and his voice grew thinner. “There is one more thing I must tell you.”

  Darcy looked down for a moment. Although he could find no compassion for the man who had so brutally attacked Elizabeth, it was necessary that Grissholm live long enough to marry Catherine Monroe, and by the looks of it, Darcy was beginning to doubt that he would. “Perhaps you should rest and try to regain some of your strength.”

  “No, I must tell it while I still can. Do you remember when you came to me looking for Wickham and you said it seemed as if he were vexing the Bennet family for his own amusement?”

  “Yes, I do. Did he tell you his reasons?”

  “No, the subject never came up. However, I think you should know that my decision to accept Miss Bennet as a companion for Rebecca was because of a letter written by Lady Catherine de Bourgh.”

  “Lady Catherine wrote a letter recommending Miss Bennet?!” Darcy stared in amazement. “I think not. My aunt often voiced her displeasure with Miss Bennet's impertinence and unsuitability. She would not have given any such recommendation nor would she have had anything to do with Wickham. She has never acknowledged him. It must be another of his lies.”

  “Perhaps it is, I cannot say. All the same, I had the document retrieved and it is yours if you want it. It is on the side table behind you.”

  With a frown, Darcy moved to the table Grissholm had indicated and saw the letter lying on top of several papers, his aunt's distinctively elaborate hand gracing its face. Taking it up, he opened it and quickly read Lady Catherine's absurdly ingratiating words praising Elizabeth's many talents and qualifications for the position.

  Grissholm watched Darcy intently for a moment before he lay back with another violent cough and struggled to catch his breath. “As you can see, her ladyship was exceedingly complimentary and all but insisted that I accept Miss Bennet. What it all means, I cannot say. I only wanted you to know. Tying up loose ends, you might say.”

  Struggling himself to understand what it meant, Darcy folded the paper carefully and put it into his pocket. He still did not trust Grissholm nor was he willing to do any more than was necessary for the dying man.

  “I shall investigate the matter as soon as possible.” Taking a deep, cleansing breath, he glanced at Grissholm's rapidly deteriorating condition. “And now, I shall go fetch Miss Monroe and the vicar. I believe we have a wedding to perform.”

  * * * *

  Lady Catherine de Bourgh looked up in surprise as her nephew entered her study unannounced.

  “Would you care to explain this?” Darcy demanded, dropping a letter onto the desk in front of her.

  She knew what it was at once. That idiot Wickham had failed to make sure the only proof of her involvement had been destroyed. She surveyed Darcy's angry countenance. It would take some finesse, but she would bring him around. Slowly retrieving the letter, she opened it and gave it a quick glance.

  “It looks to be a letter of reference for Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”

  “I know what it is. I want to know why you wrote it.”

  “Certainly you can be at no loss in understanding my reasons for writing it. When last we spoke, I made my opinion of Miss Bennet quite clear,” she answered calmly. “I make no excuses for my actions, particularly in the cause of family and reputation. Lord Grissholm needed to engage a companion for his ward, a natural daughter, I suspect, and I was happy to see Miss Bennet go.”

  “How is it that you were privy to Lord Grissholm's needs? I was not aware you were on such intimate terms with the viscount.”

  “I am not. He sought the aid of his clergyman, who happens to know of Mr. Collins and his relation to Miss Bennet. As Mr. Collins assured me she was quite eager to go, and the viscount quite willing to take her upon my recommendation, I considered it a satisfactory arrangement. The letter was nothing remarkable. You know that I often make recommendations of that sort. As you might recall my telling you at Easter, I recommended Miss Pope to Lady Metcalfe as well. Lady Metcalfe said I had given her a treasure!”

  Darcy's eyes narrowed da
ngerously. “Eager? Do you expect me to believe a gentleman's daughter would be eager to go into service?”

  “Not every gentleman's daughter, but you must remember we are speaking of Miss Elizabeth Bennet, Nephew. She does display a shockingly independent nature.”

  “Not enough to wish for employment. Wickham forced her to accept the position with Grissholm, and you have aided his villainy, I am certain of it!”

  Unabashed, she returned her nephew's piercing stare. The slightest waver in her demeanor and he would know. Something she could not allow to happen as long as his misguided emotions were obviously still very much engaged.

  “Do not be absurd! You know full well I have never acknowledged that boy your father insisted on raising as his own, and I certainly would not start now. It seems to me Miss Bennet willingly entered employment. Now you see what kind of a girl she really is. A lady's companion, indeed! It is exceedingly fortunate for you that it was discovered before you did anything foolish!”

  “I know what kind of a girl she really is, madam. I also know what you are capable of,” he breathed angrily. “Since you are unwilling to admit your part in Miss Bennet's misfortunes, I shall suspend any accusation for now; but be assured, I will get to the bottom of this!”

  In an unusual show of incivility, Darcy turned on his heels without another word and quit the room as suddenly as he had entered it. Lady Catherine sat back in her chair and sighed. This really was quite bothersome. She should have known better than to trust that man to do anything right.

  “I see I will have to take matters into my own hands,” she grumbled to the empty room. “This time, there will be no mistakes!”

  * * * *

  “Lizzy, you must come! It will do you good to be in company. Mama is quite content with Mary and Kitty to keep her company, and Father is much better now. You cannot use him as an excuse.” Jane watched her sister's silent reflection in the dressing table's mirror, the bright morning light from the window accenting the paleness of her cheeks. “It has been weeks since you came back and you scarcely go out at all. This is not like you!”