“Brother!” Noting that she had startled him, she apologised. “I... I am sorry. I did not mean to surprise you. I just wanted to talk to you while no one else was about.”
William’s expression darkened, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Oh? What is so private that no one else can hear?”
“I fear that you should sit down before I tell you.”
“I do not believe that is necessary. I shall stand, thank you.” When she hesitated, he added, “Get on with it, Georgiana; I have no times for games.”
His impatience with her raised her ire. “Very well. I tried to prepare you for some disturbing news, but have it your way.” She held out the paper to William. “Andrew saw this in the gallery of one of his friends in London. He purchased it so that it would not be left to bring shame upon our family.”
Without taking her offering, William retorted, “I do not think Andrew capable of caring about shame brought upon our family. After all, is he not the author of most of it?”
“Perhaps you will change your mind about who has shamed our family when you see this,” Georgiana replied, shoving the paper in his hand. “Look! That is, if you are not afraid of the truth!”
William took the drawing and unfolded it. Something inside assured him that he had seen a similar drawing before, though he could not remember the circumstances.
“I do not believe for one minute that this is Elizabeth, and I am disgusted that you would believe it is.”
“Of course, it is! Look at it again!”
“I have no doubt that this... this forgery... was made only to discredit her. And since, by your own words, Andrew is involved, he likely concocted this sham. Once I am well, I shall prove it.”
“I cannot believe that you would take her side over our cousin! He was only trying to save your good name, not that he should have bothered!”
“And I cannot believe that you still think Andrew is truthful. Now, as for this drawing, I forbid you to speak to Andrew henceforth or to mention the drawing to anyone. If I hear any mention of it, I shall know immediately the source of the gossip and you will be dealt with severely. Do you understand?”
Georgiana threw up her hands, beginning to pace the balcony. It was evident by the way her hands clenched and unclenched and the fire in her eyes that she was livid, but by the time she stopped to confront him again, her expression was completely maniacal. To William, it was reminiscent of the look on Lady Catherine’s face when he had refused her order to marry Anne.
“No! I do not understand at all. You accuse Andrew of horrid acts—oh, do not think I have not heard you and Richard speak of illegitimate children and ruined women—but you are clearly just as guilty, if not more.”
William’s eyes darkened as he reached out to clutch Georgiana’s arm. “What are you implying?”
“I am not implying, I am saying that you conceived a child—your heir—with Lady Susan, yet you pretend to be an innocent while condemning Andrew for the same thing!”
“Where did you hear such lies?”
“Lies? Susan would never lie about something so important, and I have seen his likeness. He is the image of you! You made love to her before you left on your tour of Scotland, and she married Lord Hartley only because she discovered she was carrying your child whilst you were away. And, since you had sworn not to marry until you were thirty, she did not want to force your hand. Susan’s son is your heir!”
“That is preposterous! I am not the father of that child, and it is definitely not MY HEIR! No court in England would hold that to be true! I have tried to be civil to her, but should she force my hand, I shall fight it in court until I prove she is not only a liar but also a woman with no morals.”
“How dare you try to blame—”
“I dare because it is the truth! If you were not so blinded by hate, you would realise that Andrew and I favour each other. If the child looks similar, it is most likely another of his offspring for it certainly is not mine!”
“I cannot believe you would disavow your own flesh and blood. You deserve whatever that scheming wife of yours does in the future. And as for punishment, I had rather live in a convent than with someone who pretends to be honourable while acting like a rogue.”
With that, Georgiana stormed off the balcony and out of William’s bedroom via the hall door. Had she gone through the sitting room, she might have seen a small book of poems that had fallen to the floor. And if she had paused to pick it up, she could have heard the muffled sobs now emanating from her sister’s bedroom. Instead, she was wholly unaware of the damage she had managed to inflict.
Chapter 43
That same evening
By the time Elizabeth had decided what she wanted to say to William about their child, it was growing late. Mr. Graham had already returned to his room to dress for dinner, according to a maid who had also informed her that Richard Fitzwilliam was now with her husband. Thus, Elizabeth returned to her bedroom to wait until William was alone. After several minutes, she heard the unmistakeable sound of the colonel’s boots going down the hallway and waited for a few additional minutes to be sure that he was not going to return.
When she was satisfied, Elizabeth went through the sitting room and opened the door to her husband’s bedroom. Stepping inside, she found it empty. Suddenly, an argument on the balcony caught her attention and she turned. It was plain that her husband was livid, though she was unable to see with whom he was arguing because of the curtains. Frozen in place, an angry rejoinder, uttered in William’s unmistakeable baritone, dashed all her dreams and sent her racing from the room.
That is preposterous! I am not the father of that child, and it is definitely not MY HEIR! No court in England would hold that to be true! I have tried to be civil to her, but should she force my hand, I shall fight it in court until I prove she is not only a liar but also a woman with no morals.
Through blinding tears, Elizabeth stumbled to her bedroom, dropping the book of poetry on the sitting room floor without realising it.
THE NEXT DAY
When Elizabeth awakened, it was as though another woman had taken her place—one devoid of any emotion. William’s tirade had crushed any expectation she had that he would ever again be the man with whom she had fallen in love. She knew that Aunt Olivia would urge her to discuss what she overheard with William, but she could not bring herself to do that for he was so different since the accident. Thus, a new Elizabeth had been forged—one with an entirely new perspective. It was no longer a matter of saving her marriage, but of saving her sanity and her child. She determined that she would leave Pemberley before William had an opportunity to confront her about the paternity of their child. That was the one thing she could not bear.
Sliding from the bed, she donned her slippers and walked silently into the darkness of the balcony. A brisk wind blew the wispy curls that had escaped her braids into her eyes. There was a chill in the air, and she rubbed her hands up and down her arms to keep warm. Dawn was just breaking, and Elizabeth could barely make out the silhouette of the stable and the shadows of the animals slowly making their way to the pastures. Suddenly realising that she would never see this sight again, her stomach lurched and her resolve wavered.
You know the misunderstandings that can result from eavesdropping. Perhaps he was not talking about your child. Elizabeth’s brows knit as she tried to conceive of another explanation. Her heart sank with the realisation that she could not. Stop it! YOUR Will is never coming back. Do you really think you can convince this stranger that the child is his? You must think of the baby.
Fortuitously, a letter had arrived just before dinner last night, dropping the solution to the present quandary in her lap. Jane had written that she was on the way to visit the Gardiners in London, so Elizabeth had only to embellish the story and tell her husband and family that Jane was going to Town in order to help with the children because Madeline Gardiner had taken seriously ill. This untruth not only kept her from having to face them across the di
nner table that evening, but also provided the perfect motive for her departure.
William could offer no objection to her wish to see her aunt straightaway, for his health had improved so significantly that no one dared object on those grounds. Moreover, upon hearing the news, Bingley had declared that he would go directly to London, instead of Netherfield, which meant he could be her escort. The fact that he was to leave today, in Elizabeth’s estimation, had been wholly providential.
In truth, after last night, she had to wonder if William would not welcome her departure—if only to provide the opportunity for him to decide what to do next. As she was pondering these things, Mrs. O’Reilly entered her bedroom via the door to the sitting room carrying a chamber candlestick. The sudden light signalled her arrival, causing Elizabeth to return inside.
“There you are, Mrs. Darcy!” the maid declared as she studied her. “And where is your robe? You could catch your death of cold.”
Elizabeth offered only a slight shrug in response, so O’Reilly’s frown softened.
“I found this on the floor in the sitting room.” She held out the book of poetry by Byron that Elizabeth had retrieved from her study yesterday. “In fact, I hit it with my toe and almost dropped the candle.”
Elizabeth reached for the book. “How clumsy of me! I must have dropped it. I apologise.”
“There was no real harm done.”
Elizabeth laid the book on a table as the maid went to her closet. “Mrs. O’Reilly, I would like to wear my green muslin today—the one with the burgundy trim. It is comfortable and since I will be travelling, I prefer comfort over style.”
“I know it is not my place to say, ma’am, but I worry about you travelling in your condition,” O’Reilly said, giving her a concerned look. “You have endured so much since the master was incapacitated, and now that your aunt is sick, the strain may become unbearable. Are you sure I cannot accompany you?”
“The Gardiners have little room, and with Jane there already, the house will be full. And, before you suggest it, I do not intend to have Darcy House opened. There is no need to open a house of that size for one person. Besides, Mrs. Reynolds said that one of the maids has asked for time off to visit her family on the outskirts of London. It seems her sister has been doing poorly since the birth of her child and she wishes to tend her. The maid can accompany me and travel on to her relations once we get to Town.”
Left unspoken was the fact that she did not intend to return even if the maid did.
“Are you still resolute that you will not take any of your better gowns?”
“I am, and no satin slippers either. I will not be attending any soirées or making calls. Plain gowns and walking boots will suffice.”
“If you are determined to go, you had better hurry if you intend to see Mr. Darcy before you leave. I passed Mr. Bingley going downstairs to break his fast, and he was telling Mr. Walker that he will be leaving very soon.”
Elizabeth was relieved that her maid showed no distrust of her motive. Steeling herself for that encounter, as Mrs. O’Reilly finished fastening the last of her buttons, she said a prayer.
Please keep me calm, Lord. I have only to bypass William.
WILLIAM’S BEDROOM
Since Richard’s lecture and William’s apology, it had become Elizabeth’s habit to visit her husband’s bedroom at the beginning of each day. Once there, she would rub his shoulders with the salve she had concocted, a ritual performed not only to remind him that she was his wife, but also because it was the only time that she felt completely free to touch him. Afterward, with William clad in nothing save his shirt and breeches, they would sit on the balcony and drink cups of the coffee, delivered promptly at daylight. Then together they would watch Pemberley come to life whilst discussing mundane things—the weather, the grounds, last night’s dinner—anything to avoid talking about the predicament in which they found themselves. A bit later, Adams would come in to help William finish dressing, and afterward, they would break their fast with the rest of the family.
Today, she had applied the salve hurriedly because William seemed particularly quiet and brooding. Afterward, whilst drinking their coffee on the balcony, their conversation had waned, and he stood and walked to the edge of the balcony to gaze into the distance. When she saw his face grow even more sombre, she feared he was about to talk about the baby, so Elizabeth offered an excuse to leave.
“If I am to travel with Charles, I should go down to eat now. Do you mind if I do not wait for you?”
He turned to study her and Elizabeth’s breath caught. William’s hair was dishevelled, his neck bare and his unbuttoned shirt was open, exposing the hard musculature of his chest. In the faint light of the rising sun, he looked as handsome as that night at the cottage when she had experienced the joys of married love for the first time. Transported to another place and time, his soft “No” barely penetrated her trance.
Nonetheless, with his next words, her attention was forced back to the present. “Are you sure you will not stay at Darcy House? It would be no imposition for the servants to open it for you; after all, you are their mistress.”
“I would rather stay with my aunt and uncle. If circumstances change, I can always reconsider.”
Her answer seemed to pacify him, and William once more was silent. Thinking he was finished, Elizabeth walked toward the door.
“Elizabeth?” She paused, looking over her shoulder. “Have I have done anything to upset you again?”
Has he seen through my lies? “Wh... why do you ask?” she stammered.
“It is just... you seem to be angry, as well as being upset about your aunt. If I have said or done anything that—”
“I am simply worried about Aunt Gardiner,” she interrupted. “That is all.”
He studied her as though looking for the truth. Then his head nodded ever so slightly. Elizabeth offered him a wan smile and rushed from the balcony.
Bewildered, William watched her leave. Yesterday, he would have sworn that they were making progress. While he still could not recall the circumstances of their marriage, he had begun to appreciate having chosen her for his wife. Elizabeth’s wit and intelligence proved refreshing, and he was more affected by her beauty with each passing day.
Unbidden, the argument with Georgiana came to mind. Could Elizabeth have overheard? Just as quickly, he dismissed the idea. Surely she would have told Aunt Olivia if she had overheard Georgiana’s rants. And my aunt assured me that Elizabeth confessed nothing of the sort when she questioned her motivations for leaving.
Adams’ sudden entrance left William no alternative but to let go of his suspicions and finish dressing. In any case, it would not be long until his wife and Bingley left for London.
FROM THE PORTICO, THE elegant black coach waiting below looked set to leave, for it was piled high with luggage and sported a smartly-dressed driver, an under-driver and two footmen, all wearing the Darcy colours. Though she was eager to leave, as Elizabeth began down the numerous steps on William’s arm, she could not help but glance wistfully back at the home she had come to love. Recalling how utterly happy she had been at this place only weeks before, tears filled her eyes, though she refused to let them fall.
Facing the drive once more, she watched Charles Bingley help the young maid who was accompanying her into the coach and then turn to speak to the Fitzwilliams and Richard, who had come to the coach, despite having said farewell in the foyer. Once they reached the bottom step, however, William directed her to the back of the vehicle, away from the others. As he did, self-consciously Elizabeth glanced at the portico where the long-time housekeeper and butler stood. She offered them a wan smile and a small wave. They returned the wave, though neither could bring themselves to smile.
“Elizabeth.”
The sound of her name caused her to look to William. She was amazed when, despite all the witnesses, he placed a hand on either of her forearms and pulled her close. He studied her face for the longest time, and she
was beginning to wonder if he meant to kiss her when, suddenly, his lips brushed ever so softly over her own. The kiss was torturously sweet, and when he drew back, the tears that had threatened previously rolled silently from the corners of her eyes. Immediately she wiped them away.
Believing the tears were evidence that she was not anxious to leave, William smiled ever so slightly. “Write to me as soon as possible, for I shall worry until I am assured that you are safe in London.”
“I... I will,” she murmured despite the large lump now in her throat.
Another small smile was all she was to receive before he helped her into the coach. “Take care of her, Charles,” he instructed, though his eyes never left Elizabeth.
“You may rely on me,” Bingley said more cheerily than the occasion dictated.
William closed the door, then slapped the top of the coach and stepped back. The coach lurched forward, and not one person watching it leave moved as it wound around the gravel circle before heading down the long, straight drive. Only when it was nearly out of sight did family and servants alike file back into the house. Once inside, William went wordlessly toward his study, too full of emotion to speak.
Richard hesitated only a moment before following.
HAD ANY OF THOSE STANDING about the portico that day bothered to look up, they might have caught sight of Georgiana peering through the window of one of the guest rooms on that side of the manor. While she watched all that was happening below, her maid Florence entered the room and stood at another window.
Noting her arrival, Georgiana asked, “Did you get my message to Lady Susan?”
“Yes, ma’am. I put it in her hand first thing this morning,” Florence said. “I even waited while she read it. She asked me to thank you for keeping her informed.”
Darcy and Elizabeth--A Most Unlikely Couple Page 70