The Darcy Estate

by Bannatyne, Mary

  “Yes, I could not stand it.” He stopped. He did not want her to see how worried he was. “But that is not the main reason for it. I have heard that there is a certain moss that grows beside some Scottish lochs, including the one on our estate. With any luck, it will speed your recovery.”

  “Oh, Fitzwilliam. It is so kind of you to venture all this way in search of a cure for me!”

  He grimaced. It seemed somehow cruel to allow her to go on thinking she was the sole reason for the journey. What else was he to do? He had no intention of alarming her with talk of poachers and confrontations. He said nothing for a while.

  Eventually, he cleared his throat. “We do not have much further to go. I imagine it will be another half hour at most.”

  She smiled. “I have never been to the Scottish estate. Is it very beautiful?”

  He relaxed a little. It was not possible for him to remain tense when he thought of the Darcy Estate, despite the conflicting emotions it stirred up within him. It was not as large or as fine as Pemberley, but that did not matter to him. There was something wonderful about the Scottish estate. The woods were wild and untouched in parts. The hills were steeper and more rugged. The house was warm and welcoming.

  None of those things explained his great affection for the place.

  He had not been there often in recent times. He had not considered the fact that his sister had never been there, but it did not surprise him when he thought about it now.

  His memories of the place dated back to when he was a young boy. It was there that his father had taught him how to hunt and shoot. Not only that, but he still had vivid memories of exploring the place with his mama. They had spent long evenings picnicking in the rose garden. He would scramble over the paling and into the park, and she would call after him to take care and not fall.

  He smiled fondly. His mother had scolded him whenever he failed to heed her advice and fell from that paling or scratched his arms as he tried to climb one of the tall oak trees that grew all over the estate. But she had never meant to curtail him. He had seen it in her eyes. Behind her concern there had always been a huge amount of pride and adoration.

  He felt the skin on his arms tingle as if he had been pricked by thousands of tiny needles all at the same time.

  He had never asked his father why they stopped travelling north to the estate. He realised now that he had no need to do so even though he had only been a boy of ten when his sister was born and the visits ceased. The reason had never been uttered aloud.

  Darcy had understood without being told. It was for the same reasons that he himself failed to make the journey except on the very seldom occasions when he had little choice but to do so.

  He loved the place, but it was steeped in many memories that were as painful as they were delightful.

  He sighed and smiled at his sister. He had been fortunate to experience the place as a child.

  “Yes, my dear sister. It is extraordinary. You might think Pemberley is the most beautiful place in all the world and I would agree with you. But there is something truly wonderful about our Scottish estate. It is wild and rugged. The house is…”

  He closed his eyes. He would never have described himself as a sentimental man, but even thinking of the place brought out a different side of him.

  It must have been at least five years since he had last been to the Darcy Estate. Even then, he had spent only the time there that he had needed to. Had his memories embellished the place? Was it in reality just an ordinary country house that was becoming rather rundown from not having been occupied by more than a handful of staff?

  He gritted his teeth. Darcy could not say for sure before setting eyes on the place, but he knew one thing for certain. Those poachers had had the audacity to think they could invade the place his mother loved and settle there as if it was theirs to take.

  It would not do. It would not do at all.

  “It is splendid,” he said, rather absentmindedly, for his thoughts were focused on something else entirely now. “But we are not travelling directly to the estate. There is something I must attend to first, so I shall take you to an inn.”

  “An inn?”

  He turned and looked at her. “You sound rather surprised. Please do not be.”

  “Of course, Fitzwilliam. It is not as if I care particularly where I stay.”

  “What, then, is the reason for your consternation?”

  “I had thought we might stay a while together at the Scottish estate. I did not know you planned to leave me. How long will you be gone?”

  He looked past her to the window. It was small, but he could see the blur of the landscape as they passed. A host of conflicting emotions rose up within him. The geography of the place—even that little blurred snippet he could see—was so unique to Scotland and it stirred up complex memories in his mind; memories he did not even know he had.

  “I will not be gone long,” he muttered, thinking of the small army of men who accompanied them to the front and to the rear. “Then we shall enjoy the estate together. I promise.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  It was almost midday when they left, intending to make up for the ground they had lost that morning. They had seen some of the town before breakfast, but they had lingered far too long after the meal since all were exhausted but loath to admit it.

  They did not get five miles before they decided to stop again. It was Mrs. Gardiner who glanced sheepishly at her husband and asked if he would not prefer to stop and explore the town they were passing through, even though it appeared indistinguishable from the one they had just left. He agreed enthusiastically. Elizabeth was delighted. She had not wished to delay their progress, but she was tired and stiff from all of their travelling.

  It was a hot day and they were tired and thirsty by the time they reached the inn. They climbed eagerly out of the carriage before the groom had pulled into the courtyard. There were several carriages waiting, and none of the three had any desire to be crowded into that hot courtyard for any longer than was strictly necessary.

  Elizabeth was looking forward to walking around in the shade after they had secured rooms for the night. They stepped through the gate and walked a few steps. She stopped and stared, aghast. All they had seen from the road outside was a cart piled high with empty milk pails. Now that they had walked past it, they saw a familiar and rather unwelcome sight.

  It was the twenty men on horseback they had seen earlier in the day. They were all standing around rather aimlessly. Their horses were nowhere to be seen, though the carriage that had accompanied them was present too.

  Elizabeth narrowed her eyes and stared at the crest. There was something vaguely familiar about it, but she still could not place where she knew it from. Perhaps she had not seen it at all herself but in a reproduction somewhere.

  It was only when her uncle laughed that she realised she must have been staring at the thing rather intently.

  “My goodness! The two of you look as though you have never seen a carriage!”

  Elizabeth glanced at her aunt and saw that Madeline Gardiner’s attention was fixed on the carriage in the same way as her own had been.

  “Who does it belong to, Edward dear? It looks familiar; like I ought to recognise it.”

  “I do not know. I declare I have never seen it before in my life. Does it take your fancy?”

  “No, my dear. It is rather large. I wondered because the blasted thing almost struck us when we were walking in Gretna Green.”

  Mr. Gardiner’s eyes widened. “Struck you? Do you mean it came close?”

  “As close as it could come without actually hitting us. There was nowhere for us to get out of the way.”

  “Well! I shall speak to the fellow about his conduct, whoever he is!”

  “No, Edward.” His wife took his arm as they entered the gloom of the inn’s entryway. “You must not. He had twenty men with him. Who knows for what purpose such a group might travel, but I daresay it is with nothing good in mi
nd. Please promise me you shall not even look at him.”

  “Am I to allow such a man to threaten my beloved wife and niece?”

  “We are perfectly well, Uncle Gardiner,” Lizzy said from behind them. “Thankfully we were unharmed. Perhaps we underestimated the skill of the driver. For all we know, we were never in danger.”

  He considered this. They had paused in the entryway just outside the inner door to the inn. Two men entered from outside and pushed past them. Lizzy looked at her uncle. It was as her aunt said—it would not be wise to go against a man with so many others at his disposal.

  The fight left his eyes and it seemed he agreed with his travel companions.

  “I shall find out his name,” he muttered. “And raise the matter with him should I ever encounter him alone.”

  “That is a wise choice, Husband. There is no sense in causing an argument here when he has all of those ruffians to defend him.”

  “Would you prefer to travel farther and find a different inn?”

  “Oh, my dear I do not think I could face another moment in that carriage.” She frowned and looked away. When she turned back to them, her expression had transformed dramatically. “Oh, Edward, I was being foolish. They are not hooligans at all. You see, I remember that crest—I knew I did but I was unable to place it. It belongs to a very old family who lived near Lambton where I grew up. I cannot imagine what business they have here, but I assure you they will not be here to cause trouble with the likes of us.”

  “How can you be certain?”

  His wife laughed. “Because old Darcy was a good sort. I did not have reason to meet him myself, but his reputation around the village was good. He was well-respected. I imagine that was his son.”

  “A long time has passed since you left Derbyshire, my darling. Suppose the heir is not as good as his predecessor. No, perhaps we should go elsewhere. I should have decided as much before we even came this far. It was foolhardy of me.” He turned and looked at his wife and Elizabeth in turn. “You must forgive me. Now, let us depart from this place.”

  Elizabeth was barely aware that her uncle’s focus was on her. In fact, she had not been able to think clearly since she heard the name her aunt had uttered.

  Her pulse throbbed as she recalled that time more than a year in the past.

  Could it be?

  It seemed like such a distant memory, but she knew that was only because so much had happened in the meantime.

  Both her aunt and uncle were staring at her when she finally regained the ability to speak.

  “Yes, perhaps we ought to leave,” she said quietly.

  She had never expected to see him again. She had often thought about him since. She had sometimes even imagined how he might react to her if he met her now. After all, had his sister not come close to falling prey to George Wickham? He had told her so himself!

  Now she was not so sure. She could not help but picture Fitzwilliam Darcy’s face screwing up in disdain at the sight of her. She could not stand to see that. Not from him.

  CHAPTER NINE

  “Lizzy!” Mrs. Gardiner cried. “Oh, my dear child. I did not mean to worry you. What a fool I am for not remembering sooner!”

  Elizabeth stared at her. “The family. What was the name of their estate?”

  Mrs. Gardiner appeared puzzled—like she might have expected any number of responses from her niece, but not such an irrelevant question.

  “Pemberley. I cannot think why you would ask. You have never visited Derbyshire.”

  “No, I have not.” She could not think of anything else to say. All she wished to do was remove herself from that place and go as far away from him as possible. She was in no doubt now that it was him. There could be more than one family of Darcys in England or even in Derbyshire, but she remembered that name as if it was etched into her mind. Pemberley. He had told her about it.

  Her heart hammered and the warmth had sapped from her cheeks. What was he doing in Scotland? He had never mentioned it to her before. And why had she stumbled across him here, of all places, miles from both of their homes?

  She was not prepared for this—not at all. Those silly imaginings of hers seemed foolish now. She had kept the letter he thrust into her hand at Hunsford. She often retrieved it from its hiding place at the back of the bottom drawer of her dresser and reread it. She could recite from memory his account of his sister’s lucky escape from a life with Wickham.

  But Darcy was a tough man. She knew that well. The sort of man who rigidly adhered to society’s rules and obligations. Such a man would surely not look kindly on her, no matter what had happened to his sister. Georgiana Darcy had been saved in time. Not many people knew what had happened. In contrast, Lydia Bennet’s downfall had been very public and very complete.

  It is not so bad, she reassured herself. I have realised my folly in time. I have been spared the indignity of seeing his reaction to me.

  She looked from her aunt to her uncle and forced herself to remain calm. It was not an easy undertaking, but she felt she managed it well enough.

  “I am sorry, but I think we ought to go. My uncle is right. It has been a long time since you resided in Lambton. Who knows, the heir may not be as kind and good as his father.”

  She shook her head as she recalled everything that had gone on between them. She had thought him unkind when she first met him, but that impression had long since been replaced. He was decent—she had no doubt of that. Too decent—how could he fail to be outraged by what had gone on in her family?

  To Elizabeth’s dismay, her aunt showed no sign of relenting. If anything, Mrs. Gardiner seemed perplexed.

  “I assure you both that I know these people. And I must tell you now, I would have heard if the son was any less noble than the father.”

  “Perhaps people are afraid of him.”

  “No. It is not possible. I did not hear much about the younger Darcy, but what little I heard was complimentary. As a boy, he was quiet and considered. An accomplished hunter and horseman.”

  “His carriage came close to colliding with us! I would hardly call that considered!”

  “Oh, Lizzy. He must have been in a great hurry wherever he was going. Now come on. Let us go inside. I am beyond curious to see the young gentleman and I want nothing more than to rest and stretch for a while. I do not wish to go in search of a different inn. This is Scotland—there is no guarantee that the patrons of the next place will be any more refined. At least here I know the sort of person we are dealing with.”

  Edward Gardiner glanced back at his niece and shrugged. She knew there was no sense in trying to argue with her aunt. She would have to explain her reasons and she did not have the heart to do it there, in such a public place.

  She stepped forward, trying to imagine the scene that would greet them in a few moments. She decided to stick to the shadows and linger behind the others. With any luck, Darcy would not see her at all.

  It did not take even a full minute for Lizzy’s plan to be foiled.

  CHAPTER TEN

  The door flew open before Mr. Gardiner could reach past them and open it.

  Elizabeth Bennet found herself face to face with Fitzwilliam Darcy. He had moved through the door at some speed, but had come to an abrupt stop as soon as he realised his way was blocked.

  “Excuse me,” he grunted. “I must get past immediately.”

  There was such expediency in his tone that the Gardiners moved out of his way as quickly as they could. They were, after all, blocking him from leaving the place.

  Elizabeth found she could not move. It was as if her limbs were stuck in heavy mud. She stared at him in dismay.

  Darcy had kept his eyes firmly on the outer door as if solely focused on making his exit. It was only when he found his way still blocked that he moved his gaze upwards to discover the cause of his continued detainment.

  Elizabeth watched this happen in slow motion. By rights she should have moved away and let him pass, but she stood still as if r
ooted to the spot. She could not move no matter how much she wanted to.

  Darcy looked taken aback when he recognised the woman standing in his way. “Miss Elizabeth! What are you doing in Scotland?”

  She looked up into his dark eyes. They were full of curiosity—she saw no reproach or judgement in them.

  “I am accompanying my aunt and uncle on a tour.”

  He looked around. “This is your aunt and uncle?”

  She nodded and introduced the Gardiners.

  After pleasantries were exchanged, the party fell silent. Elizabeth, for her part, could not think of a single thing to say to him. The last time she had seen him had been the day after his proposal; the day he had delivered her his letter.

  How she wished to commiserate with him regarding Wickham’s true nature! She knew it was foolish to even think of talking about the wicked actions that had led to her sister’s ruin, but she could not help it now that they were face-to-face.

  Whatever his prejudice, she could not rid herself of the feeling that there must be some sort of understanding between them.

  It was Edward Gardiner who broke the silence. “What brings you to Scotland, Mr. Darcy? According to my wife, your estate is located in Derbyshire. Are you travelling for leisure, as we are?”

  Darcy looked at Mrs. Gardiner. “You know Pemberley? How could you know I was here?”

  She smiled. “I saw your carriage and recognised the shield. I spent many years in the village of Lambton, you see.”

  Darcy considered her answer and appeared to relax a little. “I see. Yes, Lambton is rather close.” He spun around to face Mr. Gardiner. “In answer to your question, I have an estate here. I have come north to settle a matter related to it.”

  “Ah indeed. Is it far from here?”

  “Another Five miles north,” Darcy said, stopping abruptly and showing no further inclination to speak.

  “Wonderful.”

  Elizabeth focused on the notice nailed to the wall beside her. It promised a reward for the return of a necklace that had been taken in a stagecoach robbery the previous month. Her cheeks burned as she felt Darcy’s eyes on her.