Colonel Fitzwilliam's Dilemma

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Colonel Fitzwilliam's Dilemma Page 7

by Wendy Soliman


  Every male in the room was instantly on his feet helping the ladies with their chairs. Joshua flattened himself against the wall as the ladies filed past his position. He hoped for a look, a sign of interest of some sort from Mrs. Sheffield. When she did not glance his way he felt severely disappointed. It was as though she was punishing him for letting her down by not defending her when she seemed so desperate not to be one of the players. His first instinct had been to do so but he held back for fear it would arouse too much interest in…well, in his interest in her, and create unnecessary difficulties for him. He sent her an apologetic look but she was on the other side of the table and didn’t see it. His only reward was a waft of her light floral perfume as she left the room.

  The gentlemen did not linger over their port. When they returned to the drawing room and Joshua looked for Mrs. Sheffield, she was nowhere to be seen. Nor was Asquith. He had preceded Joshua from the dining room, Joshua himself having been detained by a question from Darcy. Where the devil were they both? It was beyond his imagination, given the tension he had sensed between them, that they should be the only people missing and not be together. Presumably, they were clearing the air. Joshua slipped back out of the drawing room before his aunt could demand his company for her daughter and sauntered over to the door of the small adjoining sitting room. It was the most obvious place for Asquith and Mrs. Sheffield to have taken refuge. He was rewarded by the sound of voices—a man’s and a woman’s—coming from within and didn’t scruple to eavesdrop.

  “It is most unfortunate we should meet in this way,” Mrs. Sheffield said. “I had no idea you would be here, or I would have—”

  “Indeed.” Asquith said the one word with a marked lack of the charm Joshua was accustomed to hearing in his voice.

  “What do you intend to do?”

  “I have not yet decided.”

  A long pause, and then Mrs. Sheffield spoke again. “Thank you at least for not making your suspicions public so far. I have told you many times they are unfounded, but if you do not choose to believe me, there is nothing I can do about it. However, such a slur, even if it is not supported by evidence, which it cannot be because there is none, would show me in a bad light.”

  “We made a mistake in pretending we do not know one another. People are already suspicious.”

  “I did not know what to do and followed your lead. I had no idea you were here, whereas you must have realised who I was when Mrs. Darcy mentioned my name.”

  “Yes.”

  “Please do me one kindness, even though I have no right to ask it of you. If you do decide to voice your suspicions, at least warn me in advance and give me an opportunity to tell my sister myself. She suffers from a nervous disposition and such a slanderous allegation would make her condition worse. I would leave here and return to my husband’s estate, but I am not free to do so. My husband’s brother seeks to—”

  “Yes, I heard something about that.” Perdition, why the devil did Asquith have to interrupt? Joshua wanted to know a great deal more about the slanderous allegations Asquith was considering levelling against Mrs. Sheffield. Damn his impertinence. “Come, we ought to return to the drawing room before we are missed.”

  Joshua was shocked by Asquith’s abrupt tone and complete lack of sympathy when it was obvious Mrs. Sheffield was in some sort of trouble. Trouble that was visited upon her in Jamaica. He concealed himself when the two of them left the room and delayed his return to the drawing room, slipping in virtually unseen.

  His tardiness meant any opportunity to converse with Mrs. Sheffield was again denied to him. Music had been suggested, and it appeared Mrs. Sheffield played, as did Georgiana and Eliza. The three ladies conferred and Mrs. Sheffield was persuaded to perform first. Joshua enjoyed music and it soon became evident that Mrs. Sheffield was a proficient pianist. It was equally obvious, but unsurprising given the conversation he had just overheard, that she was preoccupied and gave her performance less attention than it deserved. Even so, he joined in the warm applause at the end of her piece, when she gave way at the instrument to Georgiana.

  Mrs. Sheffield found a seat at the side of the room and Joshua strolled across to join her. People had got up and moved around when Mrs. Sheffield quit the instrument, so Joshua’s movements went unnoticed by the rest of the gathering whose attention was now focused on Georgiana.

  “May I?” He indicated the vacant seat beside Mrs. Sheffield.

  “Please do, Colonel.”

  Joshua swished the tails of his coat aside and seated himself. It was impossible for him to establish from her demeanour whether Mrs. Sheffield welcomed his company or if she had hoped for solitude.

  “You play very well.”

  “You are mistaken, sir. My performance was unremarkable. These surroundings are rather daunting.”

  “I cannot believe you are a stranger to elegant salons.”

  “The salons in Jamaica are not on this scale, and since returning to England I have been in mourning. I am still reacquainting myself with society’s mores.”

  “Your absence has been society’s loss.”

  “It is very gallant of you to say so, sir, but quite unnecessary.” She lifted her gaze to his face and smiled at him. The effect that simple gesture had on him took Joshua completely unawares. Desire spiralled through him in a unique and disquieting manner. It had been a very long time since he had felt such a fierce attraction and such torrents of protectiveness towards any female. “I am fully aware of my limitations as a musician.”

  “You do yourself an injustice.” Joshua paused, wondering what more he could say to her. The subject of music had already been exhausted between them, and he could sense he was losing her attention. Now, he decided, was not the time to mention Jamaica. She was skittish, afraid of something, and he had no wish to scare her off. “How do you find Derbyshire?”

  “Cold,” she said with another smile.

  “Quite, but rather beautiful also.”

  “Yes, what I have seen of it so far. I enjoy riding very much. It is something I missed during my years in Jamaica. It was too hot and not safe enough. But now I am back, I am intent upon exploring the countryside here.”

  “Then allow me to offer my services as a guide.”

  “Oh thank you, but I did not mention my plans in order to beg for a companion.”

  “I am sure you did not, but it would be my pleasure. I spent a lot of time here as a boy and know the area like the back of my hand. Really, I would enjoy the excuse to show off my local knowledge.”

  “Well, if you are sure—”

  “Absolutely sure. Would tomorrow morning be too soon?”

  She raised a brow, and Joshua cursed his impatience. As a good military tactician, he knew rushing an unplanned strategy through was a recipe for disaster, but the blame rested entirely with Mrs. Sheffield. There was something about her that caused him to act impulsively. “Do you not have responsibilities to detain you at Pemberley?”

  God’s beard, did everyone know what his aunt expected of him? “Not that I am aware of,” he replied casually.

  “Even so, I—”

  “You need not concern yourself with the proprieties if that is what makes you hesitate. This is the country not the ton, and if it would make you feel better we could take a groom with us.”

  “That particular difficulty had not occurred to me, but now that you mention it—”

  “You are in need of a friend hereabouts are you not, Mrs. Sheffield?”

  She gasped. “Whatever do you mean by that?”

  Joshua glanced at Asquith, standing beside the piano and singing, accompanied by Mrs. Darcy. In view of the conversation he had just overheard, Joshua reviewed his opinion of Asquith and was annoyed that he appeared to do absolutely everything he attempted with consummate skill. Did the blaggard have no faults? “I sense antagonism between you,” he said softly, “and would like nothing more than to be your friend. Do not suspect me of ulterior motives madam, because I have none. I
merely wish to be of service to you.”

  She closed her eyes and then nodded. “You are very perceptive.”

  Or a damned good eavesdropper. “I live to serve.”

  “Really, it is nothing. I have no wish to visit my trifling problems upon you.”

  “Not so very trifling, I think,” he replied softly, holding her captive with his eyes.

  Mrs. Sheffield turned away from him, as though she was worried about what he might read from her expression. “Very well, Colonel. Thank you. I shall be pleased to ride out with you in the morning, but have we not been warned to expect bad weather?”

  Perdition, so they had. “Weather permitting. Let us hope the rain obliges us by holding off until later in the day.”

  Her spontaneous laughter enchanted Joshua and drew curious glances from several others in the room. “I ought to remind you, Colonel, that the elements do not answer to anyone, not even colonels, and will do whatever they like.”

  Joshua responded with a wicked smile of his own. “They would not dare to disappoint me,” he said, rising to his feet and reluctantly excusing himself.

  Chapter Eight

  “Leave us.”

  The sound of Mama’s voice at its most autocratic caused Anne’s heart to sink. Her maid bobbed a hasty curtsey and vacated the room, but escape for Anne would not be so easily achieved. Anne had hoped that by rising early she would be able to avoid seeing her mother and facing the questions she sensed her formulating. She pushed her breakfast tray aside and summoned up a smile.

  “Mama, I did not expect to see you about so early.”

  “The same could be said of you. I thought you would still be sleeping.”

  And yet you came to disturb me? “I agreed to join the other ladies this morning. We are to start work on the play.”

  “I did not give you leave to participate. It is not the sort of thing you ought to be doing.”

  “My role will be a minor one, and I would hate to disappoint everyone.”

  Mama fixed Anne with a penetrating glare. “Everyone or someone in particular?”

  Anne swallowed, unsure what she had done to give herself away and occasion her mother’s suspicions. She was not in the habit of disobeying her formidable parent, but for once she wanted something badly enough to stand up for herself. She had probably not chosen a good moment to act rebelliously, but there was no help for that. Mama had broken her self-imposed exile from Pemberley grudgingly, and now that she was here, she did not like seeing Mrs. Darcy as its mistress. She had been bad tempered and highly critical of that lady’s conduct since her arrival, but refrained from expressing her displeasure in public for fear, presumably, of causing further tension between herself and Mr. Darcy. In spite of all that, Anne’s strong desire not to be excluded from Mr. Asquith’s planned entertainment gave her courage.

  “I feel so much stronger nowadays and look it too,” Anne said, avoiding a reply to her mother’s question, mainly because there was nothing she could possible say short of an outright untruth that would not condemn her. “Everyone says as much.”

  Mama narrowed her eyes. “I miscalculated when I permitted Mr. Asquith into your life. He has turned your head and made you forget your duty. I can quite see that now.”

  “Does that mean you plan to dismiss him?” Anne could hear the despair in her own voice.

  “That rather depends upon you.”

  “Me?” Anne opened her eyes very wide. “I have a say?”

  “You are old enough now to understand what is expected of you.”

  “I have always known that, Mama,” Anne replied quietly.

  “You have been protected and cossetted all your life, which is partly my fault, and partly a consequence of your fragile health.” Mama paced around the chamber, looking uncharacteristically flustered. “You have never seen anything of the real world, nor do you understand its ways. I was hoping Mr. Asquith would give you some insights, make you understand just how privileged you are, and prepare you for the next stage of your life.”

  “He has taught me a great deal.”

  “More than I anticipated, clearly.”

  Anne had no idea how to respond. “I do know how fortunate I am,” she said instead. “How could I not?” Especially when I have you to constantly remind me.

  Mama turned and fixed Anne with the full force of her determination. “With privilege comes responsibility, Anne. Never lose sight of the fact that many people rely upon Rosings for their livelihoods. Since your papa died I have done my level best to maintain the estate and keep it profitable, but it is no easy task and has sapped my strength.”

  Anne sat a little straighter. Her mother had always appeared indefatigable and certainly was

  not in the habit of admitting to her weaknesses, always supposing she had any. “Are you feeling unwell, Mama? You did not say anything. Have you seen a doctor?”

  “I am merely tired, nothing more. It is time to start ceding my responsibilities to you, or rather to your husband. Which means I must choose the right man to keep the Rosings estate running smoothly. Many men would aspire to own it, but most would fritter its wealth away because they are too idle to keep proper control. I cannot allow that to happen.”

  “No, of course not.”

  Anne did understand that perfectly well. What was less clear was why she could not be allowed to make her own choice, or at least have a say in the matter. She did not bother to pose a question that would only lead to a serious disagreement between mother and daughter, but still wanted to scream that it was unfair. She did not care about wealth, privilege, or even Rosings. She would settle for a very great deal less if only she could choose her own husband. But then again, if she did not have wealth and privilege, what man would be interested in her?

  “May I ask why you chose to replace Mrs. Jenkinson with Mr. Asquith, Mama? It was an unusual arrangement that raised more than one set of eyebrows. I overheard Mr. Collins advising you quite forcibly not to take the chance.”

  “Mr. Collins sometimes assumes too much. Besides, he does not know Mr. Asquith’s history.”

  “Whatever do you mean?”

  Mama’s expression became distant. She was quiet for so long Anne thought she wouldn’t answer her question. When she did speak again, her tone was remote, her expression even more so.

  “Mr. Asquith’s mentor in Jamaica, Sir Marius Glover, was a very close friend of your papa’s.”

  “Oh, I did not realise.”

  “No one does. It is not something I choose to talk about. Sir Marius and your father, Sir Lewis, were inseparable as young men. I knew them both very well.”

  Anne had never heard her mother sound so wistful before or seen her look so pensive. She understood then that she probably had loved both men. How extraordinary. Mama clearly had hidden depths, deeply buried secrets that accounted for her inexplicable decision to employ Mr. Asquith. Anne sat forward expectantly, hoping her mother would say something more to throw light on the matter. Perhaps Sir Marius had been her first choice but he had not felt the same way about Mama, or Mama had found herself in a similar position to Anne and had not been permitted to make her own choice. It took a great deal of imagination to think of Mama as young and in love—not with one gentleman, but with two.

  “When Mr. Asquith returned to England looking for a position as a teacher, Sir Marius suggested he tried Hunsford and sent a letter of recommendation, which Mr. Collins received. At the same time, Sir Marius wrote to me urging me to give the young man an opportunity.” Mama stared through the window, her back turned to Anne, still lost in the past. “Mrs. Jenkinson had just left us. I interviewed Mr. Asquith, liked what I saw of his manners and intellect, and thought he might be just the person to imbue you with a little self-confidence.” Mama paused, screwing her features into a more recognisable expression of distaste. “He seems to have managed the task a little better than I anticipated.”

  “Mama, I do not mean to—”

  “You will marry Colonel F
itzwilliam, Anne.” Mama whirled around, her earlier pathos replaced with a look of stark determination. “Mr. Asquith is charming and I can quite see why you are so taken with him, but he is not well born. Rosings cannot be entrusted to his care and neither can you.” Mama’s voice softened. “Do not imagine me to be quite so heartless that I care nothing for your happiness, since nothing could be further from the truth. Even so, we must all make sacrifices in this life.” She paused. “Even you.”

  “I do not believe Colonel Fitzwilliam wishes to marry me, Mama. He has not shown the slightest partiality towards me.”

  “But he will, once he has had the opportunity to consider the advantages of the match. He will ensure that Rosings prospers. I can trust him absolutely in that respect.”

  Anne said nothing, quelling a rare burst of temper she knew better than to reveal. She wondered if her mother could even begin to imagine how worthless it made her feel to have it confirmed that gentlemen had to be tempted by the prize of Rosings into matrimony with her. Even then, it appeared Colonel Fitzwilliam was still hesitating.

  “Mr. Asquith may remain with us,” Mama continued, presumably mistaking Anne’s silence for acquiescence, “provided you promise me you will remember your duty and do as I ask.”

  “Colonel Fitzwilliam does not love me, nor I him.”

  Mama flapped a hand. “Love has nothing to do with the matter.”

  “Did you not love Papa?” Anne canted her head as she dared to ask the question. “You always speak of him with great affection.”

  “I married him because my father said he was the right man for me, much as I am telling you Fitzwilliam is right for you. My father knew best, and so do I.”

  Which does not answer my question. “I had always hoped to fall in love with the man I marry.”

  “Don’t be such a fool! That only happens in penny novels.”

  “Mr. Darcy married for love.”

  “Darcy is a great disappoint to me.” Mama pursed her lips. “I thought he had more sense than to be swayed by a fine pair of eyes. I am happy my sister is not alive to see who has become mistress of Pemberley in her place.”

 

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