Mr. Darcy's Forbidden Love-kindle

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Mr. Darcy's Forbidden Love-kindle Page 29

by Webb, Brenda


  “Lyons, are you a wagering man?”

  ~~~*~~~

  Chapter 21

  Ramsgate

  Hawthorne Hall

  Following a footman down an endless hall, Georgiana twisted her head from side to side as she examined every portrait she could manage while they moved swiftly along. She was aware that Pemberley’s gallery was as large, if not larger than this one, however, there were twice as many portraits displayed on these walls because they were hung in two tiers from eye level all the way to the ceiling. Thus some of the upper ones looked positively ancient, and the clothes the subjects wore were quite outlandish. She derived great amusement by trying to choose which was the most bizarre.

  My goodness, they have a lot of ancestors—some very unattractive indeed!

  I cannot imagine wearing anything that hideous. How did one stand in those shoes?

  My, he looks a lot like the new vicar at Kympton, except he has more hair.

  Turning to see that her niece was not keeping up, Lady Ashcroft called, “Come along, Georgiana!”

  As soon as her aunt turned back around, Georgiana ran to catch up, as she did not wish to lose her way. Luckily, the hall ended just ahead, and as they turned the corner, they did not advance far before the servant abruptly stopped to open a door. Georgiana rounded the corner just as he was showing her aunt into a room and someone shouted out a greeting.

  “Audrey, as I live and breathe! What possessed you to come to Ramsgate? Surely you did not travel this far for an old woman’s birthday?”

  By the time Georgiana reached the doorway, her aunt was bending over someone seated on a magnificent upholstered sofa—obviously Lady Hawthorne. All she could spy from her position was beautiful silver hair, piled high and held with glittering combs. Georgiana’s first thought was that the woman looked very petite, almost childlike, sitting on the huge piece of furniture. Her second thought was that the blaring voice certainly did not fit the frail woman.

  As her aunt stood straight again, she leaned to the right and set eyes on an elegant older lady clad in expensive clothes and jewellery, not unlike those favoured by her Aunt Catherine. But unlike her least favourite relation, this woman radiated a cheerfulness that reached across the room, enveloping her. She liked her immediately.

  “Violet, you never age!” Audrey Ashcroft remarked with a chuckle. “If only I am as keen as you are when I am five and sixty.”

  “Shush! You must never repeat my age. I believe you are the only one that truly remembers.” Laughing loudly as she talked, their hostess continued. “I want everyone who is anticipating my demise to be in the dark about how old I am. And I plan to live a long time just to annoy them.”

  Both women dissolved into laughter, which caused Georgiana to giggle in spite of trying to act the proper young lady so as not to disappoint her aunt.

  “I was surprised to get your letter saying you would visit on your way to Ramsgate. Did you come to town just for my party?”

  “I will have to confess that I had forgotten your birthday. It is Georgiana’s art lessons that brought us here at this time.”

  “Since you are in the neighbourhood, you must attend my soirée. I insist. Now, you mentioned Georgiana, where is she?”

  Lady Ashcroft stepped aside to give Violet Hawthorne a clearer view of her niece, who had stopped just inside the door. “She is here with me.”

  Lady Hawthorne grabbed her spectacles from a nearby table, placing them on her nose to study Georgiana. “Can this be little Georgiana? Why, she has grown into a lovely young lady. Come here, child, and let me get a good look at you.”

  Shyly Georgiana stepped in front of their hostess while her aunt beamed. Aunt Audrey had related that Lady Hawthorne was an old friend of hers and had actually seen Georgiana several times when she was small. As she got within reach, a weathered hand reached to take hers, and Georgiana let the mistress of the house pull her into an embrace. Finally, she was released and stood waiting while two vibrant green eyes examined her.

  “You have your mother’s eyes,” Lady Hawthorne finally said, cocking her head. “Yes, and other than the colour of your hair, you bear a strong resemblance to her.”

  Georgiana blushed. “Thank you. I love to hear that I resemble Mother in some small way, as my brother looks very much like her.”

  “And how is that rascal of a brother of yours? I used to see him often when he was still in short pants, but I imagine he would not remember. He was here with your parents one spring, and he picked all the blooms around the terrace to give to his mother. I shall never forget when he came through the French doors with his arms so full of flowers they were dropping everywhere!” She laughed uproariously—not at all ladylike. “George was going to scold him until I intervened. Good gracious, the boy was only three, and he thought he had done something wonderful!”

  Georgiana giggled, her eyes crinkling. “I shall have to tease him about that!”

  “I just imagine he will deny it, but Audrey would remember!” She glanced to Lady Ashcroft who nodded her agreement. “By the way, I understand that he is still married to that strumpet, Gisela Grantham?”

  Georgiana gasped, cutting her eyes to her aunt for some idea of how to respond. But Lady Ashcroft displayed only a wry smile, as if she was not in the least surprised.

  Realizing from Georgiana’s expression that she might have offended her, Lady Hawthorne declared, “Do not mind me. I am so old and rich that I can say whatever I please. I no longer have to lie and pretend I like people that I despise. I have known Gisela Grantham practically all her life, and since she came of age, she has been a very wicked person. She will never be a Darcy in my book!”

  “I… I do not like her either,” Georgiana offered timidly.

  “Good! Then we agree!” She winked at the girl. “Tell me, how is Fitzwilliam now that he has graduated to longer pants?”

  Georgiana laughed at the mention of her brother’s clothes. “Brother is well, I thank you.”

  “I am glad to hear it, though I am sure he would be much better off without that harridan.”

  At that very moment, a gentleman entered the room and paused when he saw the strangers. He was perhaps eight and twenty, tall with sandy hair and was dressed in a colonel’s uniform. Though not handsome, he had a pleasant look about him when he smiled.

  “Oh, David, come here!” Lady Hawthorne exclaimed. “I want you to meet some friends of mine.”

  The colonel walked over to their hostess and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Please excuse me for interrupting. I had no idea you had company. I came to finish our discussion as you suggested, but I can certainly come back at a later time.”

  “Nonsense, I am glad you are here to meet my guests. This is my dear friend of more than twenty years, Lady Audrey Ashcroft, and her niece, Miss Georgiana Darcy.”

  He executed a perfect bow while she continued with the introductions. “Allow me to present my godson, Colonel David Cochran. He is staying with me this week and will be attending my party.”

  There were acknowledgements all around, and Colonel Cochran exclaimed how pleased he was to meet them.

  Suddenly Lady Hawthorne blurted out, “Oh, Audrey, I forgot! When I got your note, I had Mrs. Traywick prepare two guest rooms.”

  Georgiana’s aunt made to disagree. “We are perfectly able to stay in the hotel in Ramsgate. I have already written ahead to secure rooms.”

  “There is no need to argue. You will stay with me. We have too much gossip to catch up on. Surely you will not refuse an old woman her wish on her birthday?”

  Audrey Ashcroft laughed aloud. “Do you use that excuse often to get your own way?”

  Colonel Cochran interjected, “I can testify that she has used it a lot lately, as that is why I am staying here as her guest.”

  Everyone chuckled.

  “At my age, I employ whatever method works!” Violet Hawthorne smirked. “Besides, I know you will attend my party, and it will be so much easier if you stay here w
ith me. What do you say?”

  “I cannot refuse—not because you use your age to get your way, but because you are the liveliest person I know! I always enjoy your company.”

  Lady Hawthorne beamed. “It is settled then.” Acknowledging the housekeeper now standing in the doorway, she added, “Mrs. Traywick, are the rooms prepared?”

  “Yes, madam. I had already prepared several guest rooms in anticipation of whoever might arrive this week, so there was little additional work required.”

  “Wonderful! Audrey, I just imagine that you and Georgiana are exhausted, so if you will follow Mrs. Traywick to your rooms, you shall find everything you need to refresh yourselves. Dinner is in two hours, so there is time for a short nap. I shall send a servant into town to inform the hotel not to hold your rooms.”

  She reached out to take her godson’s hand. “Meanwhile, the colonel and I will conclude our business, and that will leave plenty of time after we dine for everyone to enjoy a good visit. I hate talking business after dinner!”

  ~~~*~~~

  London

  Bingley’s Townhouse

  Highly agitated, Louisa Hurst hurried about the house as she tried to recall everything she wanted to inspect before Charles’ arrival. Having received his letter only that morning, she knew that he could arrive at any moment. She also knew that whenever her brother was out of town, Bertram eschewed the less expensive provisions in the liquor cabinet and humidor in the drawing room for the fine cigars and French brandy found in Charles’ study. With such short notice, she had not had time to replace them. Already she had unlocked the study so that the maids could straighten up, and all that remained was to pray that Charles would not go in there before she replaced everything that had been consumed. A footman had left a half-hour earlier for the shops in order to locate Charles’ favourite cigars and another was in the cellar at that very moment, searching for another bottle of his best brandy.

  As she continued her assessment, Louisa fretted over the change in Bertram’s attitude which had gotten more cavalier over the past year. Her husband had begun to treat Charles’ residences as though they were his own, to the point of requesting she unlock the study whenever her brother was gone for any length of time. Afterward, she often found him sitting at her brother’s desk, his boots upon the edge, seemingly oblivious to the impropriety of such presumption, and she was well aware that more than one long-time servant had raised their eyebrows at the sight. She lived in fear that one of them might mention his behaviour to Charles. Yesterday, however, things had reached a new level when she found him thumbing through one of her brother’s household ledgers that usually sat atop a tall bookcase behind his desk.

  Why does Bertram insist on using Charles’ private study when he is away? How often do I have to warn him that this cannot continue? My brother may not always maintain us if he keeps to this course. Even Charles has his limits.

  Charles’ letter had been cheerful, and she prayed that his spirits would not be dampened by the state of the house or by the news that she had to impart. Normally she and Bertram stayed from October to well after Christmas with their Hurst relations, relieving Charles of the responsibility of hosting them the entire year. However, they would not be visiting the Hurst family this winter, due to the argument that her husband had had with his father about his own dwindling liquor supply. Only yesterday they had received notice that his parents would soon be travelling to Scotland to visit Mr. Hurst’s sister and would not return to their estate until next spring.

  Louisa’s troubled thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of the front door opening, and she turned to see Charles step through the entrance and stamp his feet to remove water from his boots. Mr. Gates was already taking his coat and hat but he had not yet spied her.

  “Drat! It began raining once we reached London, and I was hoping for the lovely weather I have been enjoying in Meryton, Gates!”

  “It has been raining every morning for three days, sir,” the tall, grey-haired butler replied. “But it usually ends by the afternoon. In any event, it is good to have you home.”

  “I hated to leave Meryton, but I have business that must be taken care of in Town. Then I shall be off again.”

  “Very good, sir.”

  Louisa’s suspicions were raised, and as she stepped into view, she could not hold her tongue. “Charles, it is good to have you home again.” She stepped forward to embrace her brother. “Did I overhear you tell Mr. Gates that you were in Meryton? Caroline said that you had gone to Bristol to check on the ship that was lost.”

  “Bristol? Heavens no! I do not know where she got that impression. Mr. Carter has that situation well in hand, and I was not needed there.”

  Louisa’s mind was racing. If Charles had been in Meryton, then he must be aware of what Caroline had done. Nonetheless, he did not seem angry. She had advised Caroline not to write the letter dismissing the staff at Netherfield from service, but she had no luck in persuading her. She never had.

  “Then you were at Netherfield all alone? I… I mean, apart from the servants?”

  Charles studied his oldest sister warily. “I think you are well aware that there were hardly any servants left at Netherfield.”

  Louisa dropped her head to study her feet. “I tried to intervene, but you know Caroline never listens to me. She has some peculiar ways, Charles, but she means well, I believe. She thought it would save you money to let them go and hire them again when you returned.”

  “That is very unkind to the servants and no way to build loyalty. Besides, I do not think that was her plan at all. I think she did not want me to return to Netherfield to stay and believed that having no servants there would discourage me from doing so.” His brow furrowed. “And, as for your part in this, you should have let me know.”

  “I am sorry. I did not wish to get caught between the two of you.”

  “Yet, by being silent you have done just that. I was fortunate, however, in that Mr. Mercer and Mrs. Watkins were able to find most of the servants and convince them to return. In addition, I had plenty of visitors, as my future bride and her family were kind enough to keep me company.”

  Louisa felt faint. “Bride? Your future bride?”

  Charles enjoyed watching her squirm. “Yes, Miss Jane Bennet has made me the happiest of men. She has consented to be my wife.”

  Louisa looked about for a chair and settled on one of two flanking an ornate table beneath a huge mirror.

  Charles tried not to smile. “Are you unwell, Louisa? Should I send for a physician?”

  Finally coming to her senses, Louisa took a calming breath. What was done was done, and nothing she or Caroline could say would change his mind. Of that she was sure! Thus, she quickly decided to use the situation to her advantage.

  “I wish you joy, Brother! Miss Bennet is a lovely woman, and I am sure you will be very happy.”

  “Thank you. I am sure that we shall.”

  “When is the joyous event to take place?”

  “We have not set an exact date, though it will likely be the first part of September. I have returned to Town to consult with my solicitor regarding a settlement and that brings to mind something else. Now that Jane will be the mistress of my homes, I think it is time that you and Bertram secure your own residence. As a newly married couple, we will want our privacy. I am sure you understand, being married yourself.”

  “Of course,” Louisa lied, trying not to panic as she pasted a smile on her face. “But what of Caroline? Where will she live?”

  “Yes. Dear, dear Caroline,” Charles repeated, none too affectionately. “I certainly need to make provisions for her.”

  The way his expression changed when she mentioned Caroline made Louisa uneasy. Unfortunately, just at that moment her sister appeared at the top of the stairs.

  “Are you and Louisa talking about me, Charles? You should have had the decency to wait until I came downstairs and speak to me—not about me.”

  As she descended the
stairs in her usual, irritable manner, Louisa tried to catch her sister’s eye and shake her head in warning. But Caroline was paying her no mind.

  “Perhaps we should all step into the drawing room. What say you, Charles?” Louisa offered, seeking to move everyone out of the range of the servant’s hearing.

  Charles shrugged and headed in that direction. They had all barely gotten situated in the room, each taking a seat after the door was shut, before Louisa began.

  “Is it not good to have our brother home again, Caroline” she declared with exaggerated cheerfulness. “Bertram and I were just saying yesterday that we missed you terribly, Charles.”

  Caroline dismissed Louisa’s words impatiently. “Oh really, Louisa! Bertram has been in his cups nearly every day since Charles has been away. When would you have had time to talk to him?” Then she addressed Charles. “Louisa and I were talking of how slothful Mr. Hurst has become—doing nothing but eating, drinking and sleeping. He contributes nothing to society.”

  “And what do you contribute to society, Caroline, other than making my friend Darcy miserable with your meddling?”

  Caroline paled as her palms began to sweat. A nervous tic that always surfaced when she was caught in a lie commenced on the right side of her face.

  “Surely you do not blame me for informing Mrs. Darcy that that country chit is out to seduce her husband? It was just scandalous how Eliza Bennet chased after him at the Holmes’ ball. I even saw her talking to him and Miss Darcy at Hatchards’ bookshop several days later, so she must be following him about. I felt that I had to take action to protect him from her distasteful manoeuvrings.”

  “Protect Darcy?” His eyes narrowed on the twitch in her jaw. “The only protection Darcy needs is from you, my dear sister. Now suppose you tell me all the particulars of what you did, and I shall decide who is to blame.”

  Caroline swallowed hard, beginning to knot a handkerchief she had absently pulled from her pocket. Gradually she confessed everything she had written in her unsigned letter. The longer she spoke the more crimson Charles’ face became, and by the time she was finished, he was so angry he could barely speak. Likewise, Louisa had sunk deeper into the chair she occupied, her face frozen in shock and her mind in turmoil.

 

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