Yet even then, she had foolishly believed him—accepted his words of love as legitimate and rejected the efforts of her father and of her aunt and uncle and of Mr. Darcy to salvage her reputation—and declared herself perfectly happy to remain with her dear Wickham until he could bring himself to marry her. Unfortunately, it had been only under duress that Wickham agreed to make her his bride—not a solid basis for a marriage.
They lived in rented rooms, surviving upon Jane’s and Elizabeth’s goodness. She did not know what else to do. She had never learned economy in her mother’s home—frivolity, yes; economy, no. She possessed no household arts. If she were in either of her sisters’ positions, she would have servants who knew how to maintain a household, and even though she realized it not fair to Jane or Elizabeth, Lydia thought it quite unreasonable that she should suffer alone. Only recently, her mother had written to announce that Mary had attracted the attentions of one of Uncle Philips’s clerks, and their mother expected the man to declare himself soon. Lydia felt the injustice of knowing that even plain, moralizing Mary might find contentment when she did not.
Evelyn Williams opened the cloth purse she hid each night under her pillow. It contained all she had of value in the world. Fifteen gold pieces caught the glint of the fire—solid gold—worth a small fortune. She lifted one of the circular discs and rolled it about in her fingers. Slowly, Evelyn brought it to her lips and kissed it for good luck.
Next, she took his ring into her palm. Somehow, it felt warm, as if it still held the heat of his hand in its metal. Again, she brought the item to her mouth, but this time it was his face she saw—the face of the man she loved. Their marriage certificate lay folded and small on the white bed sheet. Reverently, she unfolded it, smoothing out the edges, letting her fingertips trace the raised letters. Reading the solemn words silently, Evelyn placed her hand upon the page and drifted off to sleep.
“Adam?” Cathleen whispered as she turned in the man’s arms. They had made love and fallen asleep, arms and legs entangled. “I need to say something to you.”
“What is it, Darling?” Fully sated, Adam Lawrence would have preferred only to rest in her embrace.
“When this is over, I want to travel to Cheshire alone. My family would not understand my traveling in your company.”
Adam forced his eyes open, hearing a touch of finality in her tone. “Then you mean to leave me?” He stared deeply into her sea green eyes.
“I will never know a more generous man, and I will regret it all my life, but it is for the best. The fragile thread of life is too easily broken.The evil we have experienced at Pemberley convinces me I need to return to the girl I once was and to the life I once knew.” She tenderly caressed Adam’s face.
He did not move. He had known this moment would come soon enough, although he had expected to be the one to end their relationship. Adam appreciated Cathleen for her alluring combination of innocence and sexuality. He found the woman most appealing, and he did not wish to replace her; yet, Adam would not beg her to stay. “I would prefer to remain with you until we are safely away from Pemberley. I will see to your journey and make an appropriate settlement upon you.”
“I remain in your debt, my Lord.” She slid her arms around his neck. Leaving him would be the hardest thing she ever did. She had been in love with him from their earliest days together; however, she had no choice but to leave him. Adam Lawrence must never know the depths of her love.
Nigel Worth turned over in bed. The mattress was a little softer than he liked, but tonight, he had no complaints about his accommodations—about the forced confinement of the storm—about missing his Cheshire appointments.
Tonight, he thought only of Miss Anne de Bourgh’s merits. Lovely and personable—thick-lashed eyes that saw the world as an innocent globe—a sharp mind, open to new ideas and new adventures. He felt like a young man with her, although he also wanted to protect and to father her at the same time. She created a calmness deep in his soul, and also an exhilarating stimulation. Worth did not fool himself. He knew that others would see him as a fortune hunter, but he honestly had known very little of the woman’s financial situation when he had first found himself attracted to her. Now, he contemplated the possibility of wooing the lady and making her his own. Those thoughts rocked him to sleep—the mattress he had greatly despised on the previous evenings was less of an issue tonight.
CHAPTER 12
PETER WATCHED LYDIA WICKHAM as she dressed for the day. The maid, known as Lucinda, laced up Lydia’s corset, but not to the woman’s specifications. James objected to his watching, but Peter took note of how much James had enjoyed Mr. and Mrs. Darcy’s coupling and, therefore, had ignored his friend’s warning. “I said tighter,” the girl demanded.
Behind her, Lucinda turned red in the face as she strained to meet the order. “Yes, Mrs.Wickham.”
“I would hate to tell my sister of your incompetence,” Lydia threatened.
The maid pulled again as Lydia sucked in her breath. “No, Mrs. Wickham.”
Corset finally in place, Lucinda stepped away to retrieve the long-sleeved dark violet dress, which Lydia indicated she would wear for the day. Another round of lacing followed. At last, Lydia’s appearance seemed to please her. “You have probably left me black and blue,” she chastised the maid as she preened before the long mirror,“but I do cut a nice figure, do you not think?” Lydia twirled in place, admiring herself from all angles.
“I be apologizin’, Mrs. Wickham. I never be dressin’ anyone before.”
Lydia took a quick look at the servant—a moment of regret making her take a kinder approach. “Well, we all must learn, I suppose.”
“Yes, Mrs. Wickham.” The maid turned to pick up the articles Lydia had left strewn across the bed and chair. “Might I be of service some other way, ma’am?”
Lydia headed toward the door. She gestured to the clothes to which the woman now attended. “Just iron some of those and see to my laundry.”
“Yes, Mrs.Wickham.”
Peter continued to watch all this from the security of his hiding place. Lydia Wickham’s condescending attitude did not sit well with him. His father insisted that quality people treated others well. The woman he watched today had never learned humility—never learned to value anyone else’s needs but her own. She had never learned to love herself. Consequently, she could not truly recognize the value of another. Maybe that was why he despised everything for which Lydia Wickham stood and why he continued to watch her—why her shallowness mesmerized him. She should be taught a lesson, he concluded. It was up to him to teach her—the way his father had taught him—with a good switch and a cane if necessary. “Later,” he whispered to the darkness.“Later today, she will know my wrath.”
“I will see to it, Mr. Darcy. Immediately, sir.” Darcy was meeting with both Mr. Baldwin and Mrs. Jennings. He had followed Elizabeth’s suggestions from last evening. His butler would scan the rooms once more and record any sightings of the Pemberley phantom.They already knew which staff members had seen or had spoken to their mysterious intruder. Now, the Pemberley butler would document the when, where, and time of day each encounter occurred. Darcy also instructed his man to remove from the rooms anything that might be used as a weapon.“We will not provide our mystery man with devices to bring about our own demise.”
Darcy instructed Mrs. Jennings to take a count of what supplies and foodstuffs were available. He specifically stressed the necessity of securing those areas of the house where foods not needing a fire to make them edible might be found.“Hard-boiled eggs are different from fresh eggs,” he explained to her.
Earlier, he had spoken to Mrs. Reynolds regarding bed linens, toilette items, towels, candles, and lanterns. He wanted everything that the intruder might need to survive within Pemberley’s walls locked up. “Open up the east wing’s rooms—doors remain open. No fires in the fireplaces. Inventory each room’s furnishings down to the mantelpiece’s smallest figurines.” Having spent a co
mbined three quarters of a century in service to the estate, the two staff members were ready to respond to the threat to Pemberley’s reputation and to fulfill their own responsibilities to keep it secure.
Satisfied that they would complete their tasks as he instructed, and having started his day with a visit to Jatson St. Denis, Darcy now turned his attention to what to tell the viscount and Mr. Worth. Since speaking candidly to Elizabeth, he wondered about the wisdom of being so open with his guests. He knew intuitively that he needed to acknowledge the troubles besetting Pemberley—to allow his guests to protect themselves with a large dose of caution.Yet, he could not shake the feeling that somehow one of them had participated in this duplicity. Only earlier that morning, Darcy had learned that Lord Stafford had not slept in his own bedroom the previous night, and despite Darcy’s knowledge of the viscount’s relationship with Miss Donnel, a small part of him wondered if Adam Lawrence could be involved somehow. His lack of command over the events exploding in his household weighed heavily on him. He could not take care of all of them. It was a fact that Darcy did not take lightly, but he had decided during the long night that his first responsibility was to Elizabeth and the child she carried, along with Georgiana. They would be his priority in this peril. He would tend to the others, but only after his ladies and his child were safe.
Since Elizabeth’s revelation, Darcy’s mind had drifted often to how he would secure his child’s future. Milder weather could not come too quickly for him. Besides being the end of the nightmare plaguing the estate, Darcy eagerly anticipated meeting with his solicitor and making a proper settlement on his child. Although he wished for a son—an heir for Pemberley—he had actually dreamed the past two nights of an auburn-haired little girl curling up on his lap and falling asleep. A daughter would bring him a different type of contentment. Darcy missed how Georgiana had once clung to him—how she would climb on his outstretched legs and beg her big brother for a horsey ride. His imagination told him that Elizabeth’s child would bring such happiness again. With her mother’s wit, the child would challenge him to be more than a family figurehead. He would be a father—a man who taught his children responsibility while giving them love.
A knock at his study door brought him out of his musing.“Enter!” he called.
Anne edged the door open. “You wished to speak to me, Fitzwilliam?”
Darcy came automatically to his feet. Circling the desk to meet her, he led his cousin to a nearby chair.“Yes, my Dear.”After seating her comfortably, Darcy returned to his place behind the mahogany desk. “I have several items about which I wish to speak with you if you are of a mind.”
Anne smiled politely, but she worried. Would Darcy reproach her for her actions the past few days? Brought up on constant censure, she expected it from everyone. She said cautiously,“Of course. I have enjoyed our newfound closeness.”
“So have I,” he admitted, and she released the breath she had held.“It is ironic that we have shared a lifetime and only of late can say that we share a friendship.”
“Unfortunately, it took your defiance in claiming Mrs. Darcy as your own to open communication between us.” Anne chortled, and Darcy noted how laughter made her appear years younger. “It is probably indelicate to say this,” she continued, “but the sword of Damocles hung over us for too many years—our prescribed union kept us from developing a caring relationship. I pray for this new knowledge of each other to continue when I am forced to leave Pemberley’s security.”
Darcy chose his words carefully. “And do you feel secure at Pemberley? Despite everything that has happened?”
“Notwithstanding the tragic loss of a woman I admired more than anyone else in my life, I have found moments of pure joy at Pemberley.” Anne shifted in her chair. “I love my mother, Cousin, and like you, I understand her bitterness. She was the eldest child of the Fitzwilliam family and a bit spoiled by all those at Matlock. Even though your father and mother taught you what was right and gave you good principles, they certainly left you to follow them in pride and conceit. I say that not to criticize you, Darcy. It is but a fact.” Darcy simply nodded his head in acknowledgment of her words. “If your mother, Lady Anne, my namesake, offered you such guidance, you must realize that she and my mother were instructed by our grandparents on the nobleness of their line.” Again, Darcy gave no verbal confirmation of what his cousin said, but he made no move to correct her. He had heard his aunt declare on more than one occasion the idea of the “perfection” of his and Anne’s lineage—the same noble lines—respectable, honorable, and ancient families. “However, as my cousin, you—more than most people—recognize the censure with which I have lived for years. Since birth, I have been my mother’s disappointment. She needed a son to truly please my father.Although Rosings Park is not entailed upon the male line, a son would have meant that she had not failed him as a wife.”
“Sir Lewis adored you,” Darcy observed.
“He was my world, and I never felt unloved, but my father left us too soon, forcing my mother into the role of both master and mistress. She could let no one take note of a woman’s weakness, including her own daughter.When my father left us, I also lost my mother.”
“Some day you should explain your defiance in just those terms,” Darcy suggested. “I have seen the pain in Lady Catherine’s eyes when she experiences the inadequacy of her own futile attempts at motherhood. For years, I have been of the persuasion that my aunt taught you docility because she wished never to risk losing Rosings. If we had married, you would have become the mistress of Pemberley and have no need for another great estate.Yet, if you married another, your husband would take control of the property, and Lady Catherine would assume the position of dowager: Rosings would be yours. Actually, I prefer your explanation for Her Ladyship’s harshness rather than the thought of her manipulating you for her own benefit. It eliminates a point of honor.”
Anne sat silent for several moments. “It is a conundrum. All I know for sure is that I must discover my own identity and become my own person. I am seven and twenty and have never known the thrill of another’s attention.”
“That brings me to another topic of discussion. I wished to know of your continued recovery from Mrs. Jenkinson’s death and of what appears to be a blossoming relationship with Mr.Worth.”
Anne blushed profusely. “Is it not shameless that I am here because I followed Lieutenant Harwood to Liverpool; yet, I am finding comfort in building a friendship with Mr.Worth?”
“What I know of Nigel Worth tells me the man is honorable.”
Anne looked surprised.“You knew Mr.Worth previously? I was under the impression that you met him when he came to Pemberley with those seeking refuge from the storm.”
“I dealt with Mr. Worth several years ago in a legal matter regarding one of our former Pemberley employees.” Darcy stretched the truth, even with Anne, but he realized she would think he interfered in his cottagers’ lives—as if that were the normal way for a landed gentleman to behave. He could not admit to her that he had paid Wickham’s debts without also revealing the man’s betrayal and attempted seduction of Georgiana.
Anne asked impulsively,“Do you believe Mr.Worth’s attentions honest?”
“I assume you question whether the man’s interest is based on your fortune?”
“I am painfully aware that Rosings Park is my best asset,” Anne openly confessed.
Darcy’s expression softened. “You cheat yourself, my Dear, if you make the assumption that is the only reason any man might find you attractive. Yet, with Mrs. Darcy’s insights, I have learned that women often have a poor opinion of their own true appeal and must learn, in their own way, to love themselves and accept themselves.” He paused to allow Anne to digest his words thoroughly. “As for Mr. Worth, I believe he would not choose to show attention to someone he might not truly find attractive. A man will flirt with a woman he knows he cannot have, just to say he tried; but when his heart becomes engaged, his demeanor changes to
one of protection and caring. I have noted such a change in Mr.Worth since discovering your beauty.Worth has a successful practice and a comfortable home in Cheshire. Although he would welcome your wealth, it would not persuade him to make you an offer. As a point of reference, we must assume that the man would know how to see to your interests and to make them grow profitably.”
“Whereas Lieutenant Harwood would not?” Anne asked weakly.
“I do not know the lieutenant’s motives, Anne. I can speak only of what I know of Mr. Worth.” Again, Darcy paused for emphasis. “What I wish to ask, my Dear, is whether I am to pursue my quest for information about Lieutenant Harwood? I had planned to assure myself and you of the man’s intentions and of his truth once the storm subsided.”
It was Anne’s turn to pause; she needed time to word her response. “If you would not mind postponing your inquiry, Fitzwilliam, I would like the opportunity to see where Mr. Worth’s addresses lie. My intuition tells me my future may find itself in that direction. I never felt Lieutenant Harwood’s commitment to me the way I do with Mr.Worth.”
“Very good,” Darcy said with relief. “I wish you happiness, Cousin, and it appears that Mr. Worth wishes you the same.” He stood, bringing an end to their conversation.“If you care to remain at Pemberley when Her Ladyship returns to Kent, Mrs. Darcy and I would be honored to play your hosts. It would make it more feasible for Mr. Worth to continue your courtship. Pemberley is not so far that he could not arrange a day trip. It might be a way to determine the depth of the man’s interest. If he is willing to withstand the discomfort of a long carriage ride or one on horseback to spend a few hours in your company, then we can count him a legitimate suitor.” Darcy chuckled, thinking of how he would have traveled from Derby to Hertfordshire in a heartbeat if Elizabeth had given him reason to do so.“It would demonstrate most clearly his intentions.”
The Phantom of Pemberley Page 19