The Phantom of Pemberley

by Regina Jeffers

  “Do you desire delicious?” she asked teasingly, sliding her tongue along the line of Adam’s lips.

  “I am more than hungry,” he growled and then nibbled her earlobe to emphasize his point.

  Cathleen laughed lightly. “You are always hungry, my Lord.”

  “Do you object?”Adam pulled back to take in her countenance.

  “Absolutely not. I am a blessed woman; you chose me.”

  Lawrence knew Cathleen uttered the words he paid her to say, but a part of him wanted her to care about him simply because he was Adam Lawrence, not because he would someday be an earl. Dismissing such thoughts, he deepened the kiss.Then he said, “We will try to make it to Cheshire itself this evening, although Mobberley may be an impossibility before dark.”

  She kissed along the line of his cravat. “Then we have time?”

  “Plenty of time,” he murmured.

  When his butler, Mr. Baldwin, announced the arrival of Lady Catherine de Bourgh, Darcy shot a quick glance at Elizabeth before ordering the man to show his indomitable aunt in. He and Elizabeth were sharing time in his study, as had become their habit. In reality, Darcy did not like to be too far from his wife; they did not always talk or even keep each other company, but he liked to look up and see her in his home. Before he had won Elizabeth’s heart, he had envisioned such moments—had seen her everywhere—on the main staircase, at his table, in his garden, and in his bed. Today, Elizabeth worked at her embroidery, something not necessarily her forte. She bit her bottom lip in frustration as her thread knotted again. No matter. Darcy found contentment in the scene.

  Now, Elizabeth’s eyes widened. Neither of them had seen his mother’s only sister since that day the woman had actually taken the trouble to journey from her home seat of Rosings Park in Kent to Hertfordshire for the sole purpose of breaking off Darcy’s and Elizabeth’s supposed engagement. This was before Darcy had proposed to Elizabeth Bennet a second time. She had vehemently refused him the first, and he had striven to prove himself worthy of her love. However, his aunt had held a starkly different opinion of their possible union, and she had made no bones about her objections.

  That day, Lady Catherine had verbally attacked Elizabeth—quite ungraciously—accusing his future wife of industriously circulating scandalous falsehoods. His aunt had lambasted Elizabeth, saying, “Your arts and allurement may, in a moment of infatuation, have made Darcy forget what he owes to himself and to all his family.”

  When Elizabeth had steadfastly refused to succumb to Her Ladyship during this extraordinary visit, his aunt had rushed to London to enumerate the miseries of a marriage with one whose immediate connections were so unequal to those of her and Darcy’s family. What Lady Catherine had not considered was the violence of the love her nephew felt for Elizabeth Bennet. His aunt’s words, instead of turning Darcy from the woman he loved, had taught him to hope as he had scarcely allowed himself previously—actually not since before he erroneously thought Elizabeth to be expecting his attentions during that first ill-fated proposal. He had known enough of Elizabeth’s disposition to be certain that had she been absolutely and irrevocably decided against him, she would have acknowledged it to Lady Catherine frankly and openly. When he had been approached, Darcy abruptly ended his aunt’s interference in his life and immediately boarded his coach, returning to Longbourn to judge whether Elizabeth might finally accept him.

  Unfortunately, Darcy’s engagement and ultimate marriage to his Elizabeth had served to sever ties with his aunt. Lady Catherine preferred to “control” everything within her own “parish.” The minutest concerns of her tenants were Her Ladyship’s domain; in the same way, she expected to lord her power over her family, as well. When her cottagers were disposed to be quarrelsome, discontented, or too poor, she sailed forth into the village to settle their differences, silence their complaints, and scold them into harmony and plenty. When Darcy had defied her orders to abandon his fascination with Elizabeth Bennet and instead honor what his aunt saw as an engagement to his cousin Anne, Lady Catherine had indignantly declared herself to be finished with him.

  Following propriety, Darcy had written to her to announce his engagement and the impending marriage. Lady Catherine had given way to all the genuine frankness of her character in her reply, sending her nephew language so abusive, especially of Elizabeth, that for some time all intercourse between Darcy and his aunt was at an end.

  But, at length, by Elizabeth’s persuasion, he had been prevailed on to overlook the offense and to seek a reconciliation. Darcy admired Elizabeth’s ability to forgive, although he suspected her insistence came from the fact that his wife missed her own family desperately, and like it or not, Lady Catherine and the Matlocks were his only family, besides Georgiana. The woman had guided him when his mother had passed, and Darcy knew her heart to be in the right place. So although she had yet to respond, for the past six months, he had written to her monthly with family news. At least, she had not returned his letters unopened; he had supposed that to be a positive sign. Now she had arrived, unannounced, at Pemberley. Darcy expected trouble.

  “Show Her Ladyship in, Mr. Baldwin,” Darcy stood to acknowledge the woman he had thought never to see again.

  Elizabeth placed her sewing on a side table and rose to receive their guest. He noted how she fidgeted with the seams of her dress and patted her hair to make sure nothing was out of place. When she saw him watching her, Elizabeth colored. Darcy chuckled and winked just as Lady Catherine’s footsteps heralded her appearance. Mr. Baldwin opened the door farther and announced,“Lady Catherine de Bourgh,” before stepping aside.

  She swept into the room, all haughty grandeur, but Darcy noted immediately the gauntness of her face under the thick cosmetics she wore “Aunt,” he said, “I am pleased to see you at Pemberley again.” He bowed to her and came forward to accept the hand she offered. “Come, let me show you to a chair before the hearth.”

  Without waiting for Lady Catherine condescension, Elizabeth established herself as the manor’s mistress. She dropped a curtsy to the woman before adding, “Welcome, Lady Catherine. Is Miss de Bourgh not joining us today?”

  The woman answered the query in a shaking voice without looking directly at Elizabeth. “I sent Anne and Mrs. Jenkinson to their regular rooms. The trip has taken its toll on Anne’s constitution ; she has always been of a delicate nature.”

  “I see.” Elizabeth ordered tea for three from Mr. Baldwin. Then she said to her husband and his aunt, “If you will excuse me, I will see to Miss de Bourgh’s comfort.”

  “Of course, my Dear,” Darcy replied. Lady Catherine remained silent. As Elizabeth turned to leave, Darcy added, “Please rejoin us at your convenience.”

  When the door clicked behind her, Darcy seated himself beside his less-than-affable aunt. He pasted a smile on his face before speaking.“Lady Catherine, although unexpected, you are welcome in my home.” Darcy could not help but note her trembling hands. “I assume, Aunt, that this is not simply a social call.”

  “Hardly, Darcy,” she declared, more strength in her voice this time.“I need your help or else I would never lower myself to return to this estate, especially with that woman here.”

  Darcy had expected as much, but her words set him on edge. “Your Ladyship, as much as I have always held an affection for you and have esteemed you, I must caution you regarding your word choice. Elizabeth is my wife, and I will tolerate no disrespect where she is concerned. I have never been happier, and before I will let you ill-use her, I will send you from Pemberley permanently.” Darcy paused to emphasize the truth of his words. “Now, I am more than willing to serve you with those stipulations.”

  “If you had fulfilled your obligation to your cousin, I would never be finding a need to seek your relief,” she asserted.

  “As much as I respect Anne, we would not have suited each other. I needed a woman at Pemberley who could help me bring the estate to right; with all the temptations of fast money the cottagers see in the
bigger cities, it takes a different temperament to address the changes coming to this country. Mrs. Darcy is that woman—a woman of resilience and adventure.”

  “Adventure?” she said and snorted.“If that was what you sought, then Anne would have been a better match.”

  “With no disrespect,” Darcy spoke with a twinge of irony lacing his tone, “the words Anne and adventure are not ones I would think in harmony.”

  Lady Catherine snapped, “That shows how little you know of our Anne.Typically, a man sees only the shell.”

  Darcy refused to argue with her. “Tell me the matter,Your Ladyship, and let me determine how I might be of service.”

  She impatiently tapped her foot; Darcy knew that to be a sign of extreme agitation in his aunt. “I do not want a word of this to escape. It would be a great disgrace if others knew. I have sent Mr. Collins and his wife for a family visit to Hertfordshire rather than have them know my shame.” When Darcy said nothing, she continued, “Deeply moved by your desertion,” she intoned, “Anne needed extra attention, and despite my better judgment, I allowed your cousin, the colonel, to bring some of his fellow officers for a visit before reporting to Dover.”

  Again, Darcy remained silent, waiting for the whole of the story. He recognized her dramatics—had dealt with them on more than one occasion over the years. He would not let her bait him. “I knew better,” she chastised herself, “but I succumbed to Anne’s need for company. A mother allows her only child freedoms when sound reason says otherwise.”

  “You have always been most charitable,” Darcy said, silently wishing that his aunt would just come to the point. “And I cannot imagine our cousin would pollute your drawing room with unsavory characters.”

  Darcy counted his cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam as one of his closest friends. They served as joint guardians for Darcy’s sister, Georgiana, and they knew each other as well as two very private men could. In fact, there had been a time when Darcy worried that he might lose Elizabeth to his cousin. They had taken to each other immediately, often falling into easy conversation of Kent and of Hertfordshire, of traveling and staying at home, of books and of music.After her initial refusal of him, Darcy had spent many miserable nights imagining that she might have readily accepted Edward, but his cousin’s position as a second son of an earl demanded that he choose a woman of fortune. Edward held a title, but he could not afford to fall in love with a woman of Elizabeth’s small means. For Darcy, this had proved little comfort during those months when he pined for a “lost” Elizabeth.

  “One of your cousin’s associates is a Lieutenant Harwood, a man of no consequence,” Lady Catherine said. “Although Edward Fitzwilliam brings honor to our family, I admit to finding the military an objectionable occupation. It brings persons of obscure birth into undue distinction and raises men to honors, which their fathers and grandfathers never dreamt of. A man is in greater danger in the military of being insulted by the rise of one whose father, his father might have disdained to speak to.”

  Before Darcy could offer her another caution, Mr. Baldwin interrupted with the tea service. They waited until the man had retired before continuing their conversation.

  “And I assume this Lieutenant Harwood paid Anne undue attention,” Darcy encouraged.

  “He did, but I remained unaware for some time. The man subversively began to correspond with Anne, sending her letters under the guise of writing to her maid, pretending to be the girl’s brother. The chit will be seeking other employment as soon as we return to Kent. She will rue the day she helped Anne to defy me!”

  Darcy thought he might find the girl another position before that time. He would not blame a servant for doing what his cousin had obviously asked her to do, even if that request denied reason. As Anne was shy and withdrawn, her maid had probably rejoiced at her employer’s interest in the man. They all wanted Anne’s happiness. “So you brought Anne to Pemberley to remove her from this man’s attention?”

  “I wish that it were that simple.” She sipped her tea. “Under the guise of going to London to see her modiste, Anne, after many weeks of this secret correspondence, made a trip to Liverpool to meet Harwood.” Her voice wobbled, and her hand trembled.

  Darcy reached for her cup and returned it to the tray. He took her gnarled hand in his. “Tell me, my Dear.”

  “I found her…my Anne…in a room in a seedy inn…one this Harwood character had arranged for her. Oh, Darcy, what will I do?” she whined. “I certainly cannot have Anne marry such a cad.”

  Darcy fought back the smile creeping across his face. His cousin Anne had finally defied her mother. Possibly, “this Harwood character” did see his cousin as an easy mark and wanted to secure a quick marriage to claim Anne’s substantial dowry. As Rosings Park came unentailed to Lady Catherine after her husband’s passing, Anne’s husband would take control of a vast fortune soon enough. Then again, possibly, the man had developed a true affection for Darcy’s “sickly” cousin. Darcy would need to ascertain which case prevailed. “Do you wish me to speak to Anne?”

  “Darcy…would you do this for Anne?” She actually looked pleased.

  He smiled. “You and Anne will be my guest for a few days. I anticipate a winter storm is headed our way, and I will not have you on the road in bad weather.Winter turnpikes in Derbyshire can be quite treacherous.”

  “The storm was just settling into Manchester as we departed. We have outrun it so far.” She seemed suddenly very weak for a few moments.

  “Come, you will find safety here until it passes.” He patted her hand.“As head of the Darcy family, I will not have you on the road in unsafe conditions.You and Anne are under my care for now.”

  “Thank you, Darcy.”

  “No thanks are necessary. Mrs. Darcy is preparing for a visit from Mrs. Wickham later today. A few more guests will be most welcome.” Darcy took some pleasure in watching his aunt stiffen with the news.

  “That girl!” she began. “The one of the infamous elopement? That of the patched-up business at the expense of your wife’s father and uncle? Mrs. Darcy brings that girl to Pemberley? Are the shades of Pemberley to be thus polluted?”

  Darcy warned her with a one-word reprimand: “Enough.”

  Lady Catherine stifled her next thoughts.

  “Aunt,” he said ominously, “as I said earlier, you will control your tongue. I do not accept Mr.Wickham as my brother; however, I will not deny Mrs. Darcy the company of her youngest sister.” He wondered what Lady Catherine would think if she knew that it had been he, not Elizabeth’s father or uncle, who had arranged Lydia Bennet’s marriage to George Wickham. Nothing was to be done that he did not do himself. He had done it purely for Elizabeth. Lydia’s elopement had brought shame to her sisters, and Elizabeth’s sobs had torn his heart apart. He loved her, although at the time he had not believed that she would accept him. The wish of giving happiness to Elizabeth had added force to the other inducements that led him on. He had thought only of her when he acted. “Mrs.Wickham will be welcomed, as will you and Anne. If you do not believe you can comply with my wishes, I will see you into Lambton—to the inn. I will secure comfortable rooms to tide you over.”

  “I will tolerate the girl,” Lady Catherine hissed.

  “And with civility?” Darcy ordered.

  “I will be a paragon of the nobility’s best.”

  Darcy accepted her avowal.“I expect nothing less,Aunt.” He rose to end the conversation. “Let us settle you in a comfortable room, my Dear.” He helped her to her feet.“Later today, I will seek Anne’s company and see what I may deduce from our conversation.”

  A torrential rain met the public stage as it made its way toward Lambton. “I do not like the looks of this,” mused Mrs. Williams, widow of Admiral Samuel Williams of the British Navy. Lydia found it amazing that, in reality, Mrs. Williams was only in her early thirties; she appeared older. Evidently, the lady had followed her husband in his service to England, and the sea had taken its toll on the woman’s comp
lexion.The admiral had lost his life in the Battle of San Domingo. Now, Mrs. Williams traveled to Macclesfield to take up residence with her late husband’s family.

  Lydia followed the woman’s line of sight. “Shall we make it to Lambton?” Even though she often felt out of sorts with her husband, Lydia would have been very happy to have him traveling with her at present. The road conditions frightened her; she no longer thought it so grand to be her own woman.

  The man who had kept her company earlier joined the conversation. That day, they had been the only occupants of the coach for several hours. “We will reach Lambton, but no farther today, even though the light could take us into Cheshire. Such rain ruins even the best-kept roads. Loaded down as we are, we risk becoming stuck in some mud hole or sliding into a ditch.”

  “How long, Mr.Worth?” Lydia’s eyes rested on the horizon beyond the coach’s window.

  Nigel Worth, a second son of a minor nobleman, was an affable man and loved to talk to anyone who would listen. He had flirted with Lydia periodically, especially when Mrs.Williams slept, although he held no illusions of her finding him appealing. It was just his nature. He actually did know of the girl’s husband indirectly. As a solicitor in a neighboring county, he had once represented a man in court trying to recover the gambling debt that George Wickham owed him. Of course, Worth had not disclosed to Lydia the fact of his dealings with the girl’s husband. From what Nigel had discerned Mrs. Wickham held no real knowledge of her husband’s base nature. The man had left several residents in Middlewich holding his gambling blunt. “Close to an hour, Mrs. Wickham—should not be much longer than that.” He looked at his pocket watch before depositing it in a side pocket of his waistcoat.