You cannot wallow in pity, Son, when so many lives depend on you! You are a Darcy, and Darcys do not buckle!
William sighed. I know, Father, and I shall get through this. Just give me a few days. Presently, I have neither the desire nor the stamina to consider my crumbling marriage.
Another headache was beginning, and his eyes felt as though they were full of sand. He considered requesting one of Mrs. Barnes’ powders, but they made him sleepy, and when he slept he dreamt of the awful things Elizabeth accused him of doing. It was one thing to recall her words while he was awake, but quite another to relive them in his sleep, for then he would awaken in a cold sweat with his heart pounding. Thus, he had decided to forego all medication for the pain. Bringing his other foot up to rest on the stool alongside the swollen one, he lay his head back against the padded cushion of the leather chair and closed his eyes. Only for a moment, he pledged.
Still, the second his eyes closed, despair took hold. Entirely beaten for once in his life, William was weary of duty, of honour and of doing the right thing regardless of the consequences. Even more, he was sick of being disappointed with life’s twists and turns. He had failed to win the love of the one woman who possessed what he desperately needed—joie de vivre—a quality he initially noticed the second evening in her company at Netherfield.
It was after Charles asked about Jane’s health that Elizabeth’s entire demeanour had transformed. She fairly radiated joy as she explained that her sister felt much better and would likely go home the next day. And as she and Bingley continued to converse, he was drawn like a moth to a flame, moving to a chair closer to her. It was then that the idea of her smiles being directed at him had materialized.
Tenting his fingers over his bowed head, William silently berated himself for presuming he could ever make her smile. He was totally unaware that Mr. Barnes had returned and was watching him with a worried expression before he knocked on the door.
Immediately, William opened his eyes. “Yes?”
“I wished to apologise, sir. Miss Darcy entered the house through the back entrance. When I encountered her in the hallway, she would not allow me to announce her.”
William’s smile was more of a grimace. “It is no matter, Barnes. I know that my sister does as she wishes. Still, I do not want the knocker on the front door.”
“Yes, sir. Begging your pardon, but you do not look as though you feel well. Do you wish to return to your bedroom?”
William shook his head. “It is too awkward to get up and down the stairs. I wish to work at least another two hours. Just let me close my eyes for a time and I will be fine.”
“Very good,” Barnes said glumly. “If you would like, I can have Cook prepare a pot of coffee. I know you enjoy it when you are trying to sort out estate matters.”
“Thank you for suggesting it. Coffee does seem to clear my mind. I shall look forward to having a cup.”
“I shall get right to it, sir.”
As the butler disappeared and William’s eyes closed again, his greatest fear refused to be silent any longer.
What kind of marriage can you expect if she hates you? She may even refuse to bear you an heir.
The likelihood hung like a verdict in the air.
STAG AND BOAR INN
The next morning
The lightest of blue skies with not a cloud in sight greeted the guests, some of whom had been deathly afraid when water had covered the porch and lapped at the doors the previous evening. Pools of water, pieces of limbs, foliage and debris were now scattered everywhere, evidence of the destructive nature of the flood. In addition, a thick mud covered every inch of ground and formed deep ruts in the road.
Colonel Fitzwilliam was at the stable, assessing the situation with Darcy’s driver and the inn’s stable manager. Travelling before the mud dried sufficiently meant the horses might falter in the muck and break a leg, or the coach could lose a wheel to a rut. Still, after their talk, he ordered the coach readied and cautioned the driver to take his time on the road. He felt he had no choice, for the general expected him in York on a certain date and he could not leave his cousin’s wife unescorted.
Making his way back to the inn, Richard noticed Thaggart standing at the end of the porch.
“Are we leaving today, Colonel?” Richard nodded. “Shall I supervise the horses?”
“Yes.”
Instantly, the batman was off the porch, heading towards the stables. Richard’s answers had been clipped because his mind was elsewhere—specifically, what he planned to say to his cousin’s wife. They may have reached a truce yesterday but he still felt it best if he and Thaggart rode their stallions, for the more weight on the coach, the more it would sink in the mud. Since one last conversation with Mrs. Darcy would be necessary before they got underway, he went back inside the inn to find her.
Elizabeth was at that moment descending the stairs, followed by Mrs. O’Reilly. At the sight of the colonel, she halted.
“Mrs. Darcy, will you join me on the porch?”
“Of course.”
Following Richard, they walked to the far end to speak privately. Once there, he wasted no time getting to the point.
“As I said yesterday, my hope is that you and Darcy may still reach an understanding and have an agreeable marriage. To that end, I know that it would embarrass him immensely if those residing at Pemberley were to learn of your disagreement. I know that he would rather they believe that he made a prudent match.”
Elizabeth’s eyes dropped as she said softly, “As would I.”
“Precisely. I propose that you and I act as though there is nothing amiss. If anyone at Pemberley should learn about what transpired in London, it shall be because you or my cousin told them.”
“That is kind of you.”
“Would you like to hear another of my suggestions?” She numbly nodded again. “With my cousin still in London, you have the perfect opportunity to begin anew at Pemberley. Prove to Darcy—nay, to all those who think or hope that you will fail—that you are worthy to be the mistress of his estates.”
“I would rather prove that I am worthy of being Mrs. Darcy,” Elizabeth said quietly. Then she added, “I hope it pleases you to know that I came to the same conclusion last night. I intend to perform the duties of mistress with all my heart, even if my efforts never atone for my blunders.”
Richard offered encouragement. “It certainly cannot make things any worse. And while Darcy may nurse his wounds for far too long, he has always been a forgiving soul. Otherwise, he would never have put up with Andrew all these years. Besides, given time, he will come to the conclusion that he is not without fault either.”
Mention of Andrew brought to mind something Elizabeth wished to ask of Richard. Reaching into a pocket of her gown, she pulled out the brooch that Andrew had given her that night in the Phillips’ garden.
“Andrew Darcy gave this to me when last I saw him in Meryton. He said it would prove his good intentions, as he was unable to marry me at present. I refused, saying I would not be secretly engaged, but he would not have it back.” When Richard did not speak, she continued. “I... I would have thrown it away; but since it was his mother’s, I thought perhaps that would be unkind. Would you see that it is returned to him?”
Richard took the brooch and, without a word, tossed it into the high weeds and bushes across the road. Elizabeth’s eyes were wide as saucers when he turned back to her.
“That is not his mother’s brooch. And, though it may appear expensive, believe me when I say that it is not. Andrew has used these trinkets for years to soften the hearts of his targets. If I were you, I would never mention it to anyone.”
The realisation that she once thought Andrew a better man than William caused Elizabeth to wince. “I am glad to know the truth of it.”
“Now, if you are ready, we really should get started. Even if we must go slowly, on account of the roads, we can make Pemberley by sundown if we do not suffer any unforeseeable difficul
ties.”
Not long afterward, the Darcy coach pulled away from the inn on the last leg of the journey to Pemberley.
LONDON
Darcy House
That evening
As Barnes looked in on his employer for seemingly the hundredth time, he was relieved to find him asleep. Having been moved back to his bed after hours downstairs, William’s foot was now held aloft by a blanket suspended from the ceiling by a rope and pulley. The contraption was fashioned by their coachman after one used to steady horses in need of sutures. His ingenuity had quickly gained the respect of Mr. Barnes. Though sceptical when it was first suggested, once it was installed, the butler found that the device made keeping the injured appendage at the right height much easier. No longer did the foot slip off the pillows, causing Mr. Darcy to wake in agony.
Assured that his charge was resting peacefully, Barnes left to resume his duties downstairs. Descending the grand staircase, the butler heard someone knock at the door. Frowning, for any sensible person knew that no knocker on the door meant that company was not welcome, he rushed to peer through the curtain at the intruder. As the man walked down the steps, he followed him with his eyes; however, when the visitor stopped at the bottom to look back at the door, he did not recognise him.
“Humph!” Barnes said, turning to go in the direction of his wife’s office. “That man should learn some manners.”
All of a sudden, the footman who always stood at the front door called out and he turned to find him holding a card that must have been slipped through the slot in the door.
“He left this calling card, sir.”
Barnes stopped, took the card and read: Mr. Edward Gardiner.
Having never heard the name, he laid the card on the silver salver that held the mail. There it would stay until William awakened.
GRACECHURCH STREET
The Gardiners’ residence
As the maid came to clear the soup bowls and serve the entree, the Gardiners became silent. After they were alone again, Mrs. Gardiner spoke.
“Are you certain that no one was at home?”
“Well, the knocker was not on the door and no one answered, so I am almost certain the Darcys are not in residence.” Then he chuckled. “Though it is not unheard of for a newly married couple to disdain company for as long as possible.”
Madeline smiled. “How well I remember! Besides, it would be odd if Lizzy left London without telling me the outcome of their discussion. It is not like her to worry me.”
“I agree, dear. And perhaps she is still trying to fit everything into her schedule as Mr. Darcy’s wife. I am certain that you will hear from her as soon as she settles in.” He hesitated for a moment. “Perhaps I am entirely wrong, but I have been thinking about the man we saw—the one who favours Mr. Darcy.”
“Yes, the similarity was uncanny.”
“I am convinced that he has to be the cousin who caused the scandal in Meryton. What was his name?”
“Andrew Darcy, if I remember correctly.”
“Yes! That is it! It must be him, and I have to wonder if Fitzwilliam has any idea that he is in London.”
“I imagine that he cannot keep up with his cousin’s comings and goings, what with all of his responsibilities. It is not a good situation to be sure. Being cousins and looking so much alike will not serve when one is definitely not a gentleman.”
“No, it will not. I think I shall, at the least, send Mr. Darcy a letter mentioning that I saw someone who could be his cousin here in London.”
“A fine idea, my dear. One cannot be too careful when dealing with someone who would do what he did to our Lizzy and then disappear.”
“Exactly.”
PEMBERLEY
That Evening
It was getting late, and almost everyone at Pemberley was drained. Having been on high alert all day for the arrival of Mrs. Darcy, all of the servants were dressed in their finest uniforms. They tried valiantly not to soil them as they went about their daily tasks. Even Joseph and Olivia Fitzwilliam had donned more formal attire than usual in anticipation of greeting their new niece and had occupied the primary drawing room most of the day in hopes of being close by when the coach arrived. Now, however, Olivia showed signs of fatigue, for she had also helped Mrs. Reynolds supervise the decoration of the house the day before.
Their efforts had not been in vain, for Pemberley looked splendid. A huge wreath filled with colourful flowers was hung on the front door to welcome the new mistress. Inside the foyer, garlands of greenery were wound around the bottom of the grand staircase and the entire house sported crystal vases filled with exotic flowers from the conservatory. This was a special touch that Mrs. Reynolds remembered Lady Anne employing when she hosted dinner parties and balls. In the drawing room, a round table had been placed in the centre, complete with a lace tablecloth. It awaited the myriad of small cakes and pastries that Mrs. Lantrip had created especially for the occasion. They were scheduled to magically appear, along with a bowl of punch, the moment word came from their lookouts that the coach was in sight. All that was left was to wait patiently.
“My dear, why do you not let me help you upstairs where you may lie down? Rest assured that I shall wake you the moment there is any news, so you will have enough warning to be presentable.” He chuckled. “Though I think you are always lovely.”
“How you do go on!” Olivia Fitzwilliam said as she leaned her head back against the soft cushions of a large, upholstered sofa. “But I shall not be gainsaid on this. If they have weathered the recent thunderstorms, they may be only seconds away.”
Joseph accepted defeat. “Yes, dear.”
Just then a footman appeared at the door. “Excuse me, but Mrs. Reynolds wanted me to inform you that a sentry has arrived on horseback to notify her that the coach has entered the grounds.”
“Thank you.”
The footman nodded and hurried back to his post as William’s uncle turned to his wife. She was beginning to stand, but her legs were a little weak from having been seated so long.
“Wait, Livy, let me help you.”
“I am well enough to stand on my own,” she protested, though clearly she was not. “I get light-headed when I stand too quickly, that is all. Just let me get my bearings, and I shall be as good as new.”
Not long afterwards Mrs. Reynolds rushed into the room, her face animated as she proclaimed, “She is almost here! Oh, I do hope the new mistress will be pleased with our preparations.”
Recovered sufficiently, Olivia reached to take the housekeeper’s shaking hands. “She shall be delighted; you shall see. Do not worry, Mrs. Reynolds, you have never failed to make any person feel welcome at Pemberley.”
“But this is not just anyone.”
“No, but you must remember, our dear boy would never marry someone who would not fit into the family creditably. I am sure Mrs. Darcy is kind-hearted.”
The housekeeper nodded even before she finished speaking. “You are absolutely correct.” Then she glanced to the tall windows overlooking the drive that led to the front of the house. “Look! There is the second sentry. That means they are only a few minutes away. Let us hurry to the portico. Everyone should be on the steps before the coach stops.”
Mrs. Reynolds rushed on ahead, while William’s aunt and uncle followed at a slower pace. By the time the Fitzwilliams entered the foyer, the housekeeper was taking to task some servants who had forgotten their places in line, something she had gone over the day before. As they watched with no little amusement, she put them in proper order. The footmen outside were already lined up on the right side of the steps to the portico, while the inside footmen hurried to take their places alongside them. Next, Mrs. Reynolds, Mr. Walker and Mrs. Lantrip led a line of maids down the opposite side—a line that reached all the way back to the grand staircase. Still, this left plenty of lesser staff for Mrs. Darcy to meet later, for Mrs. Reynolds reasoned that the mistress could not be expected to greet every last member of the staff upon
her arrival.
As the Fitzwilliams took their places on the portico, it seemed an interminable wait until the coach came into sight at the end of the long drive. Suddenly, Richard and Thaggart left the coach to gallop on ahead, and the Fitzwilliams started down the steps. In no time at all, two footmen stepped forward to take their horses as Mr. Darcy’s cousin and his batman reached the house. Dismounting, Richard removed his gloves as he walked over to his aunt and leaned down to kiss her on the forehead.
“I must say that you look lovelier each time I see you, Aunt Olivia.”
She chuckled, patting his cheek lovingly. “Then perhaps you should leave and return several more times.”
He laughed and shook his uncle’s hand. “Uncle Joseph, it is good to see you again.”
“Likewise, my boy!” Joseph said, slapping him on the back. Glancing behind him, he added, “And who is this fine credit to His Majesty’s service?”
“May I present Sergeant Louis Thaggart, my batman and one of the finest men I have been privileged to serve alongside.” Richard smiled to see Thaggart turn red with his compliment. “Sergeant, allow me to introduce my favourite Fitzwilliam relations, my uncle, Captain Fitzwilliam, and my Aunt Olivia.”
Thaggart saluted Joseph and bowed to Olivia. “It is my pleasure, Captain. Mrs. Fitzwilliam. Colonel Fitzwilliam speaks so admirably of you both that I am delighted to meet you at last, however, I do not recall him mentioning that you were a captain, sir.”
“Retired from the navy,” Joseph explained. “To Richard, I am just Uncle Joseph.” Thaggart nodded.
By that time, Richard was looking for Mrs. Reynolds, and, seeing her at the top of the portico, he hurried there. “Thaggart will be occupying the room next to mine, Mrs. Reynolds,” he said, quietly enough that none overheard.
“Of course, Colonel. We shall be honoured to have him.”
Darcy and Elizabeth--A Most Unlikely Couple Page 32