Upon hearing his mother’s call, the adventurous little pup’s head popped up from among some wildflowers, and he began to bounce across the lawn. All floppy ears and tail, tripping and falling over his own feet, he flew as fast he could toward his mother. The spectacle brought a smile to all their faces.
“I think I shall visit the new hounds,” Joseph Fitzwilliam said. “Your husband promised me the pick of the litter, Elizabeth, and I think I have already found him. Are you coming with me, Livy?”
“No. If you do not mind, I shall sit here in the shade with Elizabeth and wait for your return. Besides, we might have some confidences to share.”
Her husband gave her a devilish smile and a wink. “My ears shall burn if you talk about me, but I still hope you do.”
As he strolled leisurely towards the stables, Olivia could not bring herself to look away. His frame was as lithe and muscular as the day she had met him in Lambton, and he looked every bit as handsome. Suddenly overwhelmed, her hand came to her throat and her eyes filled with tears.
“You love him very much,” Elizabeth whispered reverently.
Olivia nodded, and though her gaze did not veer from her husband, she stretched a hand toward Elizabeth. When their hands touched, their fingers clasped.
“Yes,” Olivia murmured. “If I was not allowed another day with my Joseph, I could never utter a complaint, for God has allowed me more than my share of love.” Then she smiled at Elizabeth. “Never forget how blessed you are to have a good man’s love.”
“I promise. I will never take Will’s love for granted.”
LAUGHLIN MANOR
Daybreak that same day
William waited on the front portico for a footman to find a groom to bring Zeus around to the front steps. A haunting and heavy oppression seemed to brood upon the air, whilst a thick mist covered the ground. Involuntarily William shivered from the dampness. Having awakened well before dawn, he had thrown his clothes back into the small satchel he carried via horseback and tiptoed down the halls of the manor, hoping to avoid waking anyone, especially any of the ladies.
The viscount had been correct. He had gotten little sleep. Drunken revellers had carried the downstairs merrymaking to the floors above, with a few of the celebrants waking him from a restless slumber in the early morning hours by trying to gain entrance to his room. Rowdy, slurred voices had stopped outside his door, discussing loudly whether to drag him out of bed while they jiggled the doorknob. And though they gave up and moved along, he did not rest again. Consequently, all William wanted was to put this place and these people as far behind him as possible. He thought he had accomplished that feat when the groom came walking around the corner of the house leading Zeus, however, a voice from behind, calling his name, proved him wrong.
William’s shoulders slumped. Then taking a deep breath, he turned to face Lord Laughlin, who was now standing at the front door. His hair was unkempt and his face blood-red. He was half-dressed and still pulling on his coat when he finally stepped onto the portico. William was reminded of the drunkards who begged for handouts on the steps of White’s in London.
“Why are you leaving so early? You have not even broken your fast,” the earl said groggily. “There will be plenty of food in an hour or so.”
With an air of affected civility, William replied, “I am not hungry. Besides, I have business to handle as soon as I get home, and I wish to get an early start.”
“Business?” Laughlin laughed wickedly. “Is that what you call taking care of your new wife? Elizabeth? Is that her name?”
William’s expression hardened. Elizabeth was too precious to be mentioned by the likes of Lord Laughlin and, at that point, he flung diffidence to the winds.
“Lord Laughlin, while I appreciate that my father had a long relationship with you in regards to the contract with the army, unless I can deal with you without being subjected to what occurred last night, our partnership is finished. I came here strictly on business, expecting to spend the night in your home. I might as well have booked a room in a gambling den with a brothel thrown in for good measure. Rumours have abounded concerning the deterioration of Laughlin Manor, but the rumours were nothing compared to the reality.”
“What are you saying? I only meant to provide amusement for those here for the hunt. Certainly you do not intend to end a profitable partnership over the presence of a few card tables and some beautiful ladies? Are you mad?”
“First, those are not ladies by any stretch of the imagination. Second, it has been my experience that gambling usually leads to lost fortunes, hot tempers and challenges that often leave foolish men dead. And, thirdly, I am not mad, you are. For if you keep to this behaviour, you, sir, will lose everything your ancestors took centuries to build. You have already lost your good name, for the most part, and so has your son.”
Laughlin looked stunned but said nothing.
“I dare say that you have no idea how much money you lost last night.” When the earl did not reply, William added, “I thought as much.” He turned, intending to leave. However, memories of his father prompted him to try one last argument.
“I remember accompanying Father to Laughlin Manor as a boy and hearing him speak eloquently all the way home about how it was one of the finest estates in all of England, and what a fine job you had done managing it. But after Lady Laughlin died, you seemed not to care. If you do not worry for you own reputation, you should at least be concerned for your son’s. If he keeps to the current path, I cannot imagine any respectable lady accepting him, and with no heir, what will become of your estate?” He hesitated, letting that thought sink in. “It gives me no pleasure to say this, but unless you stop this downward spiral, Laughlin Manor is doomed.”
By then Zeus was waiting below, so William touched the brim of his hat, nodded and went down the steps. After he had mounted the stallion, he glanced back at his host, who stood frozen in place. Kicking Zeus into a trot, he was out of sight in mere moments.
Looking about as though waking from a stupor, Laughlin noticed several footmen staring uneasily at him. Lifting his chin defiantly, he marched back into the house.
Arrogant man! Who is he to criticise me? If Darcy does not want to associate with Laughlin Manor, many others would be only too happy to take his place.
Nevertheless, a niggling thought had taken root and would not be silenced. For deep inside, the earl knew that everything William had said was the truth.
MASON’S PASS
The trail through Mason’s Pass had always been treacherous because it was bordered on both sides by rocky cliffs, thus making it vulnerable to falling stone. William realised that recent rains must have caused a new rock slide, for several large boulders now sat in the middle of the path, boulders that had not been there when he travelled to Chesterfield. Still, he considered himself most fortunate not to have been caught in the middle of the slide, as had happened to him when he travelled with Richard years before. It had been a close call, but being young and foolish, it did not deter them from taking the same route to Chesterfield, even after his father expressly forbade it. The pass cut a good twenty miles off the trip, and time was all that mattered to young men eager to join friends in manly pursuits. William smiled. Or a man eager to return to his beautiful wife!
That memory was busy in his heart and mind whilst he guided Zeus around the obstacles, and he was totally unmindful of what lay ahead; thus, when he came around the bend that signalled the last stretch of rocky terrain before the beginning of the backwoods of Pemberley, he was astonished to find someone waiting several yards ahead. Reining Zeus in, it took a few seconds to comprehend that it was Andrew atop the horse, and he was holding a pistol that was pointed directly at him.
“Andrew? What in the devil are you doing here?”
“This is not Pemberley, dear cousin. I have every right to be on this road.”
William noted that his words were slurred and that he swayed a bit. He was drunk. Still, the pistol Andrew waved
so carelessly was reason for concern.
Suddenly Andrew shouted, “Pull that pistol you carry in your coat out slowly, and drop it on the ground. Then raise your hands.”
Having no recourse, William did as he was told. Aghast at his own helplessness, his heart drummed as he tried to recall if he had put the small derringer back in his boot this morning or left it in his bag. He had a knife, but that would do little good against a gun.
“I... I have to stop you, Fitz. You left me no choice.”
Andrew seemed reluctant to carry through with whatever he had planned, and William took it as a good sign. If I can keep him talking, perhaps I can convince him to stop.
“Put the gun down, Cousin. Let us talk sensibly.”
“No!” Andrew shouted in a fiery exclamation. Instantly, his arm straightened and he took aim. “I cannot allow you to sell Winfield Hall.”
“Maybe I acted too hastily. If you ride back to Pemberley with me, we can discuss it.”
It looked as though Andrew was considering his words, for his arm lowered slightly and the pistol with it. William had just released the breath he was holding when a gunshot rang out. Zeus reared. Since his hands were in the air, William did not have time to grab hold of the horse’s mane. He fell backward and a stomach-churning groan pierced the air when his left shoulder hit the rocky surface first. Instantly his head snapped back, striking a large flat rock with a sickening thud.
Andrew sat stunned and speechless. Quickly sobering with the magnitude of what had happened, it dawned on him that he had never fired his weapon. As if on cue, Wickham came charging up on his horse.
“Did I get him? Is he dead?”
A ghastly whiteness had overspread Andrew’s face. “You... you shot Fitz!” He murmured incredulously.
“I knew all along that you would not have the nerve to do it! What difference does it make who shot him, as long as he is dead?” Grabbing Andrew’s weapon from his hand, he declared, “Give me your pistol! I need to make sure that he is finished!”
Dismounting, Wickham took a few steps in William’s direction before the sound of someone shouting stopped him in his tracks. “Damnation!” he cried as he rushed to remount his horse. “We have to get out of here.”
Still cursing the fact that his plans had been interrupted, Wickham jerked his horse to go in the opposite direction. To his surprise, Andrew still sat motionless, staring at Darcy. Grabbing the reins to Andrew’s bay, Wickham kicked his own animal into a gallop, pulling his friend along with him. They had just cleared the rocky pass and entered the road that meandered through the forest when Wickham cut off from the road. Plunging through the woods via a secret path that only someone who grew up at Pemberley would be able to find, they were safely hidden in the woods within minutes.
EARLIER THAT DAY, SERGEANT Thaggart had convinced his superior officer to take the shortcut through Mason’s Pass on their way to Lambton. Their final destination was London, where Thaggart would re-join Colonel Fitzwilliam as his batman. Though he assured Colonel North that, contrary to local lore, the trail was safe and passable and that it would cut miles off their journey, saving time had not been his primary motive. In truth, he wished to steer their little band toward Pemberley, for he felt certain that Mrs. Reynolds would offer to feed them. And after eating army rations for the last five days, all he could think about was the fine fare at the Darcys’ table.
Additionally, he and the colonel, as well as Sergeant Whitaker and the six new recruits, were bone tired from having travelled for the past two weeks, and a night spent in the hay of Pemberley’s stables was preferable to spending another night in a tent on the hard ground. Having taken a great deal of ridicule for his suggestion to use Mason’s Pass after they encountered the rock slide, Thaggart was feeling quite down by the time he heard the shot ring out.
One of the new recruits shouted, “That was gunfire!” Another added, “I think it came from just ahead!”
By the time that every man had drawn his weapon, a large black horse was hurling down the trail towards them. Having nowhere to run, Zeus halted, reared on his hind legs and whinnied as only a frightened horse would.
“That’s Mr. Darcy’s horse!” Thaggart exclaimed. “I would know him anywhere.”
“Darcy? Colonel Fitzwilliam’s cousin?”
“Yes. Pemberley’s backwoods start at the end of this pass.”
By then Thaggart was already on the ground, attempting to calm the frightened animal. “There, there, Zeus. You remember me. Calm down, boy. All is well.”
Ultimately, he was able to grab his reins, and Thaggart ran a hand down the animal’s shoulder. “There’s the Pemberley name on the saddle.” Then stroking the horse’s nose, he noticed a trickle of blood running down Zeus’ ear. “If I had to guess, I would say that his ear has been nicked by a bullet.”
“That does not bode well,” Colonel North declared. Then he ordered, “Be on alert men, and move out!”
It was only seconds before they happened upon Fitzwilliam Darcy lying in the middle of the trail. The colonel was the first to reach him. Having been in the medical corps when he was young, North had a physician’s skills and heart. Kneeling beside William, he placed two fingers on his neck.
“He is alive!”
Suddenly, Thaggart was on the ground beside him. “That is him. That is Mr. Darcy.”
“I believe his neck is not broken, or he would have died instantly, however, he is gravely injured. Ride to Pemberley straightaway. Have them bring a wagon to transport him there. He needs to lie flat on his back. Moving him may make things worse, but he cannot stay here. A stretcher would be perfect, if they have one.”
“I will tell them all you have said, sir!”
Thaggart was already on his horse when Colonel North shouted, “Have them send for the local physician, too! And hurry, Thaggart! Hurry!”
PEMBERLEY
Library
A curious and inexplicable uneasiness had followed Mrs. Reynolds all day. Though most of the inhabitants of Pemberley were oblivious to it, Olivia Fitzwilliam had become conscious of it the instant the housekeeper joined her and Elizabeth in the library. Making a mental note to ask the servant—out of Elizabeth’s presence—if there was anything amiss, her attention was instantly drawn back to the task at hand when Elizabeth asked a question.
“Mrs. Reynolds, do you remember if this fabric came from Lambton or with the samples sent from London?” Elizabeth enquired, holding up a length of material in a forest green with thin burgundy and gold stripes around the hem.
“I... I am no longer certain, Mrs. Darcy. I wrote down where the samples came from when they arrived, but—“
“I lost the paper!” Elizabeth smiled sheepishly. “It is my fault. I do not blame you. I just hoped that you might recall this particular pattern. I must choose between this one and the blue.” At that point, she picked up another length of material which featured a dark-gold paisley pattern scattered on a deep-blue background. “I cannot decide which I like best, so I wished to hear your opinion, as well as my aunt’s.”
At once she stood up with the two swatches of cloth. “Perhaps it will be easier if you see them next to the windows. Come over here, please!”
Olivia was already at the window inspecting the choices when Mrs. Reynolds reached them. Always watchful of the front drive, out of the corner of her eye the housekeeper caught sight of a man on horseback galloping down it. The rider wore a red coat, though his uniform was not as grand as the master’s cousin’s. The fear that had dogged her all day suddenly washed over Mrs. Reynolds like a river.
“Excuse me, Mrs. Darcy,” she managed to say while keeping her voice steady. “I just remembered something I forgot to tell Mr. Walker.”
The tone of her voice caught Olivia’s attention, and she looked in her direction. Finding Reynolds’ face full of trepidation, she started to say, “Is there—”
The old servant shook her head, stopping the enquiry. Elizabeth was too absorbed in her
mission to notice, but Olivia’s gaze followed her as she left the room. Entering the foyer, Reynolds nearly ran into Joseph Fitzwilliam, who was coming to join his wife. Seeing the worry written on her face, he stopped short.
“Mrs. Reynolds, what in the world has happened?”
“I... I am not certain,” she said sombrely, “but I may need your help. There is a messenger at the front door, and I feel in my heart that something dreadful has happened.”
Joseph glanced toward the library’s door. “Let us say nothing to the ladies. No need to raise an alarm until we know for certain.”
He followed the housekeeper to the front entrance, where they found a footman at the open door. Behind him was a soldier they both recognised.
“Sergeant Thaggart!” Joseph said, taking in the man’s serious expression as he reached to shake his hand. “You look frightened. What has happened?”
“It is Mr. Darcy, sir! He has been hurt and lies in the road near Mason’s Pass!”
Mrs. Reynolds gasped, but Joseph said in a calm voice, “Tell us everything.”
He listened intently as the sergeant quickly told all that had occurred and ended with his colonel’s requests. Seeing Mr. Walker hurrying forward, Joseph addressed him.
“Send a footman to fetch Mr. Camryn. If he is not at his office, have him go to his home. Then tell Mr. Miller to ready Pemberley’s best wagon and collect several grooms to help. Have a footman retrieve a mattress from one of the unoccupied servant’s rooms and place it in the bottom of the wagon along with several quilts.”
Without questioning, the butler rushed to comply. Joseph turned next to Mrs. Reynolds. “I do not recollect seeing a stretcher here, but we could knock the legs off one of those cots kept downstairs—the one used for visiting servants when the beds have run out.”
“That would work!” Thaggart exclaimed.
“Come with me,” Mrs. Reynolds said to him. “I shall show you where the cots are kept. It will take a man to saw the legs off.” She rushed in the direction of the kitchen.
Darcy and Elizabeth--A Most Unlikely Couple Page 59