Darcy's Temptation

by Regina Jeffers

  Miss Donnelly said simply, “I do not like the mess such repairs would create in my house.”

  “Well, we will have no such foolishness once we are married. In fact, I wish you to send Mr. Lansing to me later today. We must address the repairs immediately. Please tell him to bring the account books also; we must make the estate a viable place once again.”

  “Is this really necessary, Frederick?” Miss Donnelly’s disdain showed.

  “Of course it is necessary.You should have seen to it prior to now.This is, at least, an area in which I feel I may be of use to you. Although I do not remember many specifics of my life prior to my attack, some things must come from instinct.”

  Miss Donnelly snarled her nose with the possibilities.“I still do not see where there is such a need for immediacy.”

  “I will broker no denials, Madam,” Darcy demanded. “As soon as I am able, I want to ride out across the estate to survey the land.”

  “I suppose you insist on this issue also.” Sarcasm crept into her voice. “Must we deal with the tenants and the land ourselves? Mr. Lansing is quite capable of addressing these issues.”

  “As your husband, I want to bring more than a title to our marriage.”

  “However, I ask no more of you than that.”

  “Well, I will not hear of it,” he snapped. Now that he escalated the conversation to a case of wills, Darcy quickly added without warning, “What is my title? Exactly where is my father’s estate?”

  Miss Donnelly flustered as Darcy settled his attention on her. “Does it matter if you have been disinherited?” she stammered.

  “Certainly it matters. If all I have to bring to this marriage is my title, I must know what I may give to you and to any children we might have,” he said adamantly. “Who knows—maybe my brother will die before I do, and then everything my father has will be mine after all. It has happened in more than one family.”

  “Well, your title is of little significance to me,” Miss Donnelly cooed.

  Darcy quipped, “Madam, I appreciate your generosity, but I insist on knowing of what we speak. If I have no title to give you, you would be better off seeking another. I would gladly release you from your commitment to me in such a case.”

  “Frederick, I do not wish to be released from our engagement.” Her mind raced, trying to come up with a logical solution. She tried to think of an area greatly displaced from her own home. “Your father’s estate is in Hertfordshire.” In reality, Miss Donnelly knew little about Hertfordshire; she only knew it to be far removed from Darling Hall. “Your father is a Lord, my dear.” Her speech became sugary.

  The word “Hertfordshire” shot through Darcy, forcing a sense of familiarity. “Hertfordshire, is it? I wish I could remember something of it.”

  “Do not let it trouble you, Frederick; we never have to face your father again. We will concentrate our efforts on Darling Hall.” Miss Donnelly shifted her weight to take a prominent position once again. She rose to take her leave, and Darcy forced himself to his feet also. “I will bid you adieu, Sir, until later.” She made him a curtsy.

  Darcy extemporaneously took her gloved hand and brought it to his lips. He kissed it lightly. “Do you always wear gloves, Madam?” He tried to analyze her words by looking deep in her eyes.

  Feigning demure feelings, she dropped her gaze. “I am afraid my mother demanded I do so. I was never able to break the habit.”

  “Obviously, I would prefer to take your hand,” Darcy weighed his words. “Next time, please do not wear them.” His voice held intimate promises.

  Miss Donnelly flushed with color. “Frederick, I will try.” Flustered, she quickly left the room.

  CHAPTER 9

  “There seems something more speakingly incomprehensible

  in the powers, the failures, the inequalities of memory,

  than in any other of our intelligences.”

  Jane Austen, Mansfield Park, 1814

  Elizabeth Donnelly sought the safety of her own chambers. Shaken by the scene she just experienced, she gasped for air. “Can I do this?” she mumbled as she secured the door behind her. “I must be careful,” she chastised herself. “Now, I must let Mr. Lansing know a few discreet staff members must mention Hertfordshire. How much will that cost me?”

  She forced herself to sit down and draft more specific details of her story. “Whom do I know from Hertfordshire?” It was some time before she remembered once meeting Sir William Lucas at St. James. The man, a pompous imbecile, insisted on introducing her to his inferior connections. At least, it was a name she could casually include in future conversations. She supposed she would have to tolerate the repairs Mr. Darcy mentioned. If she declined, he might become suspicious. She needed to let Mr. Lansing dispose of another of her mother’s tapestries to cover the cost of the items. I cannot let Mr. Darcy know what is happening with the estate. Once we are married, we can let Darling Hall and move to his estate, or I can secure a nice living from him as part of a divorce. Some women would not want a divorce, but I care not if it would let me stay here and live as I wish. Her thoughts ran the gamut of her emotions.

  Darcy had similar thoughts. Every time he considered Miss Donnelly’s story a fabrication, some element of it rang factual and made him question whether the whole thing might be true. “Hertfordshire,” he mulled the word over in his mind. What did he know about Hertfordshire? Elements of the word held an unstated reality, but he could recall no specifics of it. Could he really be from an estate in Hertfordshire? If only he could remember….The beautiful woman and Hertfordshire held an unknown actuality. If he could just connect them somehow…

  Sunday brought the day of Darcy’s redemption; in a few hours he would be free of Elizabeth. As much as he rejoiced at his being able to return to himself, his friend was despondent about the loss of her sister’s company, and he found he, too, would feel the deprivation of Elizabeth’s presence if only he would allow himself the luxury of admitting as much. Reliving the last few days as he dressed for church services, he acknowledged Elizabeth’s power over him escalated to the point of distraction, and he felt obliged to struggle against his feelings. He could not—would not—entertain a design on her. His prayer on this particular Sunday was to rid himself of the good opinion he formed of her. Putting distance between himself and Elizabeth could ease his distress; therefore, he resolved during the night to pretend business in town and to leave Hertfordshire.

  Waiting on the ladies in the main foyer, Darcy paced with a renewed strength of resolve. His friend, on the other hand, anticipated the pleasure of escorting Elizabeth’s sister to the morning’s services. As he contemplated how he could tell his friend, without offending the man, he chose to leave Hertfordshire, the sisters stood at the top of the stairs looking down at the gentlemen. Elizabeth’s sister, still a bit pale, was dressed in royal-blue muslin, amplifying her blue eyes.

  Darcy thought he heard his friend let out a low moan, but he could not be sure it was not his own response he heeded; for a few paces behind her elder sister, taking a supportive role, stood Elizabeth. The image hypnotized him. Elizabeth was perfectly beautiful and perfectly insensible to the fact. Only moments before, he silently professed his desire to be away from the brilliancy of her eyes, and now he could not force his regard from her countenance. Clothed in a simple dress of muted rose trimmed with red stitching, which complemented her hair, Elizabeth had no idea what inducements she created in a man of such esteem.

  His friend sprang up the staircase to attend to her sister’s needs, taking up a position by the woman’s side and allowing himself the pleasure of bracing her unsteady motion. Pausing to give her sister distance and some moments of growing affection, Elizabeth nearly giggled with delight at seeing his friend’s actions single out the woman.

  Shortly, Elizabeth began her descent, and Darcy discovered himself compelled to meet her and offer her his arm. A bit embarrassed by his behavior, his gentility took control of his actions as he offered the incompara
ble Elizabeth his hand. She did not expect his chivalry, but propriety allowed her to permit him to do the proper thing.

  Irritated with his sisters for being fashionably late once again, his friend said,“Why do we not take the ladies in my carriage? My sisters may come with my brother Albert in his.”

  Darcy knew the folly of such an action. Two single gentlemen in possession of good fortunes escorting two single ladies to local church services could be viewed easily by society and by the ladies themselves as a declaration of the gentlemen’s intentions. He wanted to say as much to his friend, but the slight pressure of Elizabeth’s hand upon his wiped the idea away. He resolved to leave Hertfordshire in the next few days, and that would hinder any hopes she may be contemplating. He would allow himself the pleasure of her company one last time.

  In the carriage, they found companionable silence. Both ladies kept their eyes down as Elizabeth fussed over her elder sister’s comfort.The gentlemen stared out the coach’s windows, but Darcy’s mind was anywhere but on the scenery; Elizabeth’s lavender—her lush eyelashes—the flush of color on her cheeks—the shift of her shoulders—all these things consumed his being.

  Alighting from the carriage, the ladies entered the church ahead of the gentlemen; his friend grabbed Darcy’s arm, delaying their entrance momentarily. “Thank you for allowing me this deception. My sisters will take great offense, and we shall hear their rebukes this afternoon, but for me this will be well worth it.”

  Darcy tried to cover the deepest regard he held for Elizabeth. With a straight face, he said,“Although we should not allow decency to fall to the wayside, I do enjoy being in your company, and, by the way, is this adventurous enough for you?” Darcy winked at his friend good-humoredly.

  “You are a faithful friend.”The man shook Darcy’s hand enthusiastically. “Let us find seats close to the ladies; I am afraid my attention may not be on the sermon today.”

  Darcy felt guilty for deceiving his friend, but how could he admit to the man his feelings for Elizabeth. He had not even vocalized to himself the disorder her presence afflicted upon him.

  Over the next fortnight, Darcy’s recovery became more evident. His strength returned. Only his mental clarity remained in question.Along with the return of his strength came a resurgence of his serious mien.

  “Must you ride out today?” Miss Donnelly showed her abhorrence for the situation.

  “I must, Madam,” Darcy stated matter-of-factly.“I expect to examine the farms on the estate today. Do you hold some objections?”

  “No, Sir,” she tried to cover her dislike of the activity. “You will freshen your clothing before you make an appearance for dinner.” Miss Donnelly snorted with contempt.

  “A gentleman always makes an appropriate presentation,” he replied in a haughty manner. “Please do not remind me of my obligations; there are many things about my former life I do not remember, but if my father is a Lord of the realm, I am sure he would raise me with proper manners.”

  “I meant no offense,” the lady apologized. Miss Donnelly did not like playing the role of the submissive female, but to save her estate, she would do what was necessary. Besides, at age seven and twenty her options were limited.

  “Accepted,” Darcy snapped. He made a quick bow and exited the room.

  He walked toward the stables. He asked the groomsman earlier to prepare a mount from the estate’s horses. Seeing Mr. Lansing waiting surprised him.

  “Mr. Lansing, I need no one to escort me across the estate.”

  “I understand, Mr. Donnelly, but Miss Donnelly requested I do so. I would not wish to disappoint the mistress.” Lansing’s face held a plastered-on smile.

  “You may accompany me, but I will decide what I see; you will not handle me. Is that clear?”

  Lansing’s smile became a smirk.“Perfectly clear, Mr. Donnelly.”

  “And remove that condescending look from your face. I will not tolerate such attitudes when I am the new master of this estate,” Darcy ordered. Using the mounting block, he swung up into the saddle and galloped away from the steward.

  “Many of the farms are in deplorable conditions,” Darcy told Miss Donnelly over dinner. “I spoke to several of the tenants, and they expressed a concern in how Mr. Lansing metes out punishment for poachers and how he does not address their questions about repairs or developing their crops. I was very disappointed about these reports.”

  Miss Donnelly queried innocently, “Where was Mr. Lansing during this?”

  “I sent him away; how else would the tenants open up to me?”

  Trying to stall for the proper response, Miss Donnelly poured Darcy a cup of tea. “I noted no deficiencies in Mr. Lansing’s handling of the estate.”

  “Well, I will have different standards of performance for Mr. Lansing when I take over the estate.”

  “When you take over the estate?” Miss Donnelly seemed surprised by his remark.

  “Of course.” Darcy’s words held no room for question. “As your husband, your property comes under my auspices.”

  “But it is my estate,” the lady argued.

  “Unfortunately, the law does not see it that way.” Darcy sipped his tea. “I had an epiphany of a sort today.While riding the land, I recalled my father teaching me what to do when inspecting the estate. At least, I believe it was my father.That is what flashes of my memory said—my father taught me the delights and responsibilities of being a man of property. I vaguely remember accompanying him on the spring inspection of his farms and holdings.”

  Miss Donnelly tried to control her apprehension. If she married Darcy, she would receive an additional fifty thousand pounds. Her marital prospects were few, but turning over the control of Darling Hall to an outside person went against her beliefs. She needed the funds, she needed a husband; for that she created an “illusion,” and now she could not escape her own lies.“I am happy the experience brought you some memories. I am sure you will return to us completely very soon.”

  “It is my prayer,” Darcy replied tentatively.“It is as if I live in a parallel world.”

  “Is it too soon for us to set a wedding date? I do not wish to rush your recovery,” Miss Donnelly tried to sound concerned, “but our living in the same house and unmarried is a major break in propriety.Your attack postponed what we originally planned as a speedy engagement.”

  “I understand your sensitivity to the situation. I was here nearly a month, was I not?”

  “A month since your attack,” she corrected.“You were here three weeks prior to your fateful journey to Hull.”

  “Ah, yes, I did not count those days,” he mused. “Then I suspect we should address a date.Would you consider another month as too long?”

  “It is longer than I would prefer,” Miss Donnelly tried to tempt him with a perfect fluttering of her eyelashes.

  “Yet, I would want to be fully recovered, at least, physically. A month should serve that purpose well.”

  “Of course, Frederick, a month will be soon enough.” She took another sip of her tea and became lost in her thoughts of how she would manage this situation for another few weeks.

  Ten days passed since Elizabeth received word of Darcy’s attack. Mr. Howard returned from Hemswell, but no news of Fitzwilliam Darcy followed. No one saw him, and no one knew of his whereabouts.

  “I am sorry, Mrs. Darcy,” he stumbled across the words with feelings of inadequacy.“I searched a ten-mile area around where we found Mr. Darcy’s coach. I found people who took the wheels, the metal trim, and the seating cushions, but I do not believe any of them knew of Mr. Darcy. They all were poor peasants who simply took what they could from an abandoned coach.”

  “Mr. Howard, you did all you could.” Elizabeth offered him forgiveness for failing in his journey. “At least, we know Mr. Darcy is alive somewhere.”

  “If you say so, Madam.” Mr. Howard tried not to give her false hope.

  “I say so.” Elizabeth gave him a warning look. She would accept no n
egative thoughts when it came to her husband’s life. Each day, Elizabeth and Georgiana visited the tenants. The time Elizabeth spent in the poorer homes gave her a sense of comfort; her efforts would make Darcy proud. She and Georgiana took charitable baskets of food and assorted supplies.The foundation they established at the Christmastime celebration made it easier for the tenants to welcome them. Most knew of Mr. Darcy’s disappearance, but the fact both Mrs. Darcy and Miss Darcy still made their duty calls told the tenants Pemberley would continue even if the Master did not return.

  “I promised Fitzwilliam I would keep Pemberley alive.” She and Georgiana traveled back to the estate’s main house. “It is one of his passions; I cannot let it die.”

  “Elizabeth,” Georgiana said, her eyes misting over, “I am so frightened.”

  “I cannot tell you the last time I dreamed.” Elizabeth spoke to the air, not looking at anyone.“When Fitzwilliam first left, I dreamed of him each night; it gave me solace.Yet, since the day I dreamed of his pain and later his peacefulness, I cannot bring an image of his face to my dreams. It is as if Fitzwilliam Darcy ceased to exist—where did he go, Georgiana?”

  Georgiana began to sob, and Elizabeth took the girl in her arms again. “Elizabeth, if my brother is well, he will come back to us.We have to believe that.”The sobs racked the girl’s shoulders.

  “I stand for hours in the gallery looking at his portrait; I pray to have Fitzwilliam home again—no matter what the circumstance,” Elizabeth nearly pleaded.

  “My brother would say beware the prayer the devil answers.” Georgiana tried to tease to break their somber mood.

  “There could be nothing worse for me than living my life without Fitzwilliam.” Elizabeth could not give up the longing so quickly. “He had a plan for you and me to live out our days at Pemberley.The child I carry will inherit this estate, and I will not let your brother’s dream for Pemberley die.”