by Leenie Brown
“I think it wise to tell him all,” said Philip softly as Aunt Tess and Darcy greeted the man and made him comfortable.
“All?” Lucy bit her lip and looked at him in concern.
He nodded.
She slipped her hand under his where it lay on the couch between them. “Then I shall.” She waited while Darcy finished his whispered conversation with the gentleman and then proceeded to tell Mr. Williams of everything that her uncle had ever done to her.
Mr. Williams’ jaw clenched and relaxed and then clenched again as he considered all that Lucy had told him. He turned his teacup’s handle away from himself and then back before lifting it to take a sip. “Well,” he said at last, “I believe it is finally time for your uncle to face some consequences for his actions.”
Lucy’s eyes grew wide in concern.
“No need to fear, my dear,” he reassured her as he took another sip of his tea. “I think we can arrange for him to be held accountable without ever mentioning anything of what you have told me today.”
There was something very calm and reassuring about Mr. Williams’ presence, yet Lucy could not quite rid herself of her fear of both her uncle and public exposure. Her brows drew together as she shook her head. “I do not see how. To convict him of a crime, would I not have to share my story with others?”
Mr. Williams placed his cup on the saucer and returned it to the table next to his chair. “If we went to trial, yes. If your uncle is willing to come to an agreement without a trial, no. We must hope he does not wish to take his chances with a trial. I expect he would be convicted and that the resulting sentence is something he would want to avoid.” He sighed. “It does mean, however, that he might still be able to cause trouble in the future if he decides to ignore the agreement.”
“We are about to find out,” said Darcy from where he stood at the window, watching the front of the house.
Lucy drew a deep breath and blew it out slowly.
Philip gave her hand a squeeze. “You are not alone,” he whispered. “I…we will not let any harm come to you.”
She smiled at him. “Thank you. How did you know that is what I feared?”
“We have been friends for a long time, Lucy. I know the twitch of your eye and the flinch of your mouth means you are preparing to stand your ground, and your exhale? That is you trying to shoulder the weight of a situation by yourself.” He gave her a half shrug and a smile, which she returned.
Had there not been movement near the door to the room, she would have gladly sat looking into his comforting eye for some time. The depth of his understanding of her spoke of his care. If he did not love her, at least, she could be assured of his care, and in that, there was great comfort.
“Mr. Tolson and Mr. Wickham,” the butler intoned as the two gentlemen, if they could be called that, entered the room.
“I see you have a room full of friends today,” said Tolson with a slightly menacing smile on his lips until he saw Mr. Williams and his expression turned hard. “I do hope you have not done anything foolish.”
His eye bore into Lucy’s. She wanted to look away, but she did not. Today, she would not show him her fear, for although it was there, she knew that she did not have to bear it alone. She had a room full of strength upon which to draw. “I see you have also brought a friend,” she said with as much indifference as she could muster. “Please,” she motioned toward some empty chairs as she rose, “have a seat. I will have another cup brought for our unexpected guest.” She walked to the door and made the request.
“Tolson,” said Williams. “I am surprised you have returned to the area. I do believe I told you just before you left that to do so would be unwise.”
“I am sure I have no recollection of such a conversation,” said Tolson.
“I recall it quite well,” said Mr. Harker. “Did the money you stole from my office get you very far in life? I imagine it was not used on any truly godly activities.” He laid the one glove he had brought with him on his knee. Had his eyes been better, he would have seen the colour fade slightly from Tolson’s face. As it was, he had to be pleased with the slight rattle of cup against saucer as a sign that he had unsettled the man.
Mr. Williams took the glove from Mr. Harker’s knee. “I did not realize it was he who was responsible for that theft.”
“Then why did you caution him to not return?” asked Philip.
“That,” said Mr. Williams, “has to do with my sister. I believe the caution was that if he returned, I would see him at the end of a pistol.”
“She married, did she not?” asked Tolson. Though his tone was one of lack of concern, his eyes watched Mr. Williams uneasily as the man shifted in his seat and leaned toward Tolson.
“She did, but not without some persuasion on my father’s part. Some costly persuasion. The effects have been far reaching, I assure you.” Mr. Williams rose and began a circuit of the room. “Mr. Darcy has told me he wishes to make an offer to you. As much as I do not desire to allow any good to come to you, I think it is an acceptable proposal. However, I will assure you that the offer, if refused, shall not be repeated, for I shall have my say after he has completed his.” He nodded to Darcy.
“It seems to me that to continually travel to Willow Hall to mend fences and make improvements to the estate will be rather taxing to you, both in energy and finances,” began Darcy. “It might be more advantageous to relieve yourself of the responsibility.”
“Sell it?” questioned Tolson, a calculating grin forming on his lips.
Darcy nodded. “I know the value of the property, and I am prepared to make a generous offer.” He placed a folded piece of paper on the table near Tolson but held it in place with a finger as he continued, “It is not open for discussion or negotiation. It is my one and only offer and must remain between us. Mr. Williams is, of course, aware of the offer, but no one else is. Do you accept my terms?”
Tolson shrugged. “So, I am to say yes or no but nothing else?”
Darcy held his gaze. “Precisely. But first─” He pulled a second paper from his pocket and handed it to Tolson. “Because your word has been proven to be less than reliable, you must sign this before I show you my offer.”
Tolson took the paper and read the same terms on it as Darcy had told him. “It seems I have no alternative,” he grumbled as he accepted a pen and ink from Mr. Williams. Then, having signed his name, he took the folded paper and looked at the offer written on it. His brows rose in surprise. “It is indeed generous.” He pulled the corner of his bottom lip between his teeth as he reread it.
“Before you accept,” said Mr. Williams, “you should know that I have heard of your visit to Miss Tolson both recently and in the past. I assure you that I will see to it that you do not leave the area should you chose to return again.”
“You would kill me?” Tolson laughed.
“Legally and with a length of rope,” said Mr. Williams. “I promise you that there are many in this area who would very much like to see any trial end in such a result.” He turned to Wickham, who had been watching the proceedings with varying degrees of fascination and trepidation. “I should warn you about your choice of friends, Mr. Wickham, but I fear, a warning is far too late since you are here looking for assistance once again.” He returned to his seat. “If you are found to be involved in this scheme to defame Miss Tolson’s character, I will stand as second to Mr. Dobney.” He leaned toward Wickham. “I assure you there is a reason Mr. Tolson refused to meet me on the field of honour. There is still not a man who can outshoot me.”
Wickham nodded rapidly, and Mr. Williams, seemingly satisfied with his response motioned for Darcy to continue.
“Now, then, my offer,” said Darcy.
Tolson nodded slowly. “It seems fair.”
Williams laughed. “It is far from fair since Darcy is too generous by half,” his eyes settled on Wickham, “to both of you.”
“You will meet me tomorrow morning at Pemberley before you leave Derbyshire for the final
time.” Darcy handed Tolson the pen and ink once again.
“It is over,” Philip whispered near her ear. “Everything has been seen to.”
“My things?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said, “everything.”
She drew a deep breath and released it as a smile spread across her face and her heart. She was free. Free of her uncle and his scheming. Free from the fear that had shadowed her since she was that young girl shivering in her night rail. She clasped Philip’s hand more tightly. Her lips trembled slightly as happy tears made her eyes glisten.
“You are well?” Philip asked.
She nodded. “I am very well.”
“I am glad,” he said, giving her hand a final squeeze before rising to help escort the day’s visitors from the premises.
Chapter 9
Mary Ellen handed another book to Lucy. “I am not sure my brother realizes how much of his library at the parsonage he will be forfeiting.” She laughed, as Lucy shook her head and rolled her eyes.
“He knows my love of books.” She placed the book in the crate and reached for the next. “These are the last of the things I must pack.” She and Mary Ellen had been packing for days, but finally, the task was reaching completion.
“I shall be glad to have you for a sister.” Mary Ellen could not keep the excitement at the thought from her voice. “We have been nearly sisters our whole lives, but now we shall be sisters indeed.”
Lucy laughed.
“Oh, that is a lovely sound,” said Aunt Tess. She placed a tray of sandwiches on a table in the library. “I have not heard laughter in far too long.”
“I have not been happy in far too long,” said Lucy, and then she stopped, the book she was about to place in the crate held in mid-air. She looked at her aunt in concern. “It is not wrong that I am happy, is it? Father has not been gone long.”
“Oh, my dear girl,” chided Aunt Tess, “if your father heard you, he would give you a sound scolding. Your happiness was always his concern, you know.”
“I know, but do I diminish his loss if I do not grieve enough?” She tucked the book in the crate and wiped her hands on her apron before taking a sandwich and curling into a favourite chair ─ a chair, which after Aunt Tess’ whispered information to Philip, was to be taken to the parsonage’s library.
“Are you happy because he is gone?” asked Aunt Tess.
“No, I am happy because my uncle is gone,” said Lucy. “I miss Papa greatly.”
“Then you do not diminish his memory at all. In fact, I would say you do it credit to be able to remember him with sadness but to face life with joy. He would ask nothing more.”
Lucy nodded and ate her sandwich in small nibbles as she thought. “Do you think he will return?” she asked a few moments later.
“Your father?” asked Mary Ellen.
Lucy laughed despite the serious look on her friend’s face. “No, my uncle.”
Aunt Tess shook her head. “He’ll not return.”
“Indeed, he will not,” said Mr. Williams, entering the library behind the butler. “As Mr. Darcy and Mr. Dobney know, I sent men after Mr. Tolson to make sure he was fulfilling his part of the agreement and leaving the area, which he did. However, it seems your uncle ran into some trouble at an inn. As is his custom, he had indulged in the many vices which can be found at such places, and when returning to his room, he slipped and fell down the stairs. I am afraid he broke his neck and died almost instantly.”
Lucy gasped and her hand flew to her heart. “How horrid!”
“An unpleasant way to die to be sure, but not unjust,” said Mr. Williams. “My men have made sure that the money he carried, or what was left of it, was taken to his wife and children. From my men’s report, there were few tears shed at the news. I believe it was somewhat of a relief to his wife to be rid of him.”
Lucy shook her head, her face registering her disbelief. “No one was sad that he had died?”
“Mr. Wickham was rather distraught, at first,” said Mr. Williams, “but as soon as my men gave him the things he said your uncle owed him, he was satisfied. I should say I am sorry for your loss, Miss Tolson, but in all honesty, I cannot say that.”
Lucy’s brows drew together. ‘I cannot say I am sorry, either,” she admitted. “It is very sad ─ not that he is gone, but that he is gone and there is none who will miss him.”
Mr. Williams nodded and placed his hat on his head. “I must inform Mr. Darcy and Mr. Dobney. I wished you to know first.” He bowed. Lucy thanked him, and he was gone.
Lucy turned toward her aunt after Mr. Williams had left the room. “He is gone. My uncle is truly gone.” She let the comfort of those words wash over her.
“And your life can start anew,” said Aunt Tess.
“As my sister,” said Mary Ellen, giving her friend a hug.
“Oh,” gasped Lucy, the smile she had been wearing changing to a look of dismay. “Will Philip still wish to marry me?”
“Why would he not?” demanded Mary Ellen.
“Because,” said Lucy, “he only agreed to marry me to save me from my uncle, but my uncle is dead. There is no longer a need to save me.”
“Oh, for the love of all that is good,” said Mary Ellen pulling Lucy to her feet. “Go get your hat.”
“My hat?”
“Yes.” Mary Ellen stood with her arms crossed and her toe tapping.
Lucy gave her a puzzled look but did as requested.
“Put it on,” said her friend when Lucy returned with her bonnet. “We are taking a walk.”
“But we have books that require packing,” said Lucy. There were only a few shelves left to empty and clean, and she had expected to have it finished before the afternoon was over.
“Oh, no. Those books will wait. Your foolishness will not.” Mary Ellen grabbed Lucy by the hand and began pulling her from the room. “I will not let you talk yourself and my brother out of my having you for a sister.”
“I do not understand your meaning.” Lucy scampered to keep up with her friend’s very determined gait.
“You love him, and he loves you.” She stopped for a brief moment and gave Lucy a hard stare that prevented her from arguing the point. “But, you do not know he loves you, and he does not know you love him, and since you will assume he is only marrying you to save you, you will think about it for hours and days and finally, you will break off the engagement, thinking you are doing the right thing. And I will be left with not only a very despondent brother and unhappy friend, but I shall be without a sister.” Her words fell as quickly from her mouth as her feet fell as she walked. “I will not have my chance of being an aunt taken from me because of your lack of communication.”
“Are we to keep up this pace all the way to town?” asked Lucy breathlessly. “Could we not take a horse or the curricle?
“My brother is not in town. He is in the field with Mr. Darcy, inspecting a section of fence.”
“Oh,” said Lucy softly.
Mary Ellen glanced to the side at her friend. “I will slow my pace if you will promise not to use the extra time to convince yourself that you should not marry my brother.” Seeing her friend nod, she slowed down until they rounded a corner and could see the men not far away. Then, she stopped and took her friend by the shoulders. “Do you wish to marry him?”
“I do,” replied Lucy.
“And why is that?” Mary Ellen’s words were firm but not unkindly so. “I can tell you. It is because you have adored and loved him forever. And that is what you must tell him.” She sighed. “He is a man, Lucy. I will allow that he is more perceptive and gentle than most, but he is still a man, and as such, he will not know how you feel unless you tell him. Can you do that?”
Lucy’s heart raced at the thought. She shook her head. “I do not think I can. What if he does not love me in return? I could not bear to know that.”
Her friend rolled her eyes and shook her head. “If I let go of you, will you stay or will you flee?”
&
nbsp; “I will stay?” There was a bit of an uncertainty in her voice as to why her friend would ask such a thing.
“Good, then you will stay here, and I will bring my brother to you.” She removed her hands from Lucy’s shoulders. “You do not need to tell him that you love him, but if you do, I am certain you will not be disappointed.” She pulled Lucy into a quick embrace before waving to her brother and going to fetch him.
Lucy did not flee, but she did take a place in the shade, next to a small wall that ran part of the length of the field before crumbling into ruins, a remnant from years gone by. She plucked a blossom from the flowers that grew around the wall and twirled the flower in her fingers.
“My sister said you wished to speak to me,” said Philip as he approached her.
She swallowed and bit her lip as she looked up at him. He had taken out his handkerchief and was drawing it across his face to wipe away the perspiration that was there. His jacket had been discarded, and his cravat hung loosely about his neck. His sleeves were rolled halfway to his elbows, revealing sinewy forearms. She had always found him handsome, and in such a disheveled state, she found him even more attractive. However, instead of spending a few moments admiring him as she wished to do, she turned her eyes toward where his sister still stood with Mr. Darcy and Mr. Williams. “It would be more accurate to say your sister wishes for me to speak to you.”
He laughed. “I should have known. What bee had gotten into my sister’s bonnet that requires you to speak to me?” Lucy’s eyes fell to the flowers she still twirled in her hand. It was not a response Philip had seen from her very often. “You can tell me anything. You know that, do you not?” His voice was soft and reassuring.
She nodded. “It is not that I fear telling you.” She peeked up at him. “I fear your response.” She drew a breath and released it quickly. “My uncle has died.”
“I know.”
“So, I do not…” she closed her eyes and her voice grew so soft that Philip had to lean forward to hear her. “I mean, there is no…” Why was it so difficult to say what needed to be said? She chided herself and forced the words out. “You no longer need to marry me to save me from him.” Her heart ached as the words fell from her lips.