Death Takes a Holiday at Pemberley

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Death Takes a Holiday at Pemberley Page 7

by Kelly Miller


  She smiled at him through her tears. “I can believe that of my Grandmama Bennet. She never could abide anyone seeing her when she was not at her best. She took pride in the fact that in her seventh decade she had the figure of a much younger woman.” She put her hand on his arm. “I thank you for doing this for me. I cannot imagine what it must be like to experience another person’s thoughts or memories. I hope this was not taxing in any way for you.”

  With a fixed gaze directed at her, he swallowed. “I assure you it was not distressing or uncomfortable for me in the least. I am accustomed to providing this service; I am called upon to use it often in Calabria, and it pleases me to use my ability to help others, but I appreciate your concern.”

  Her breathing now regular, she raised her handkerchief to her eyes. He showed no sign of having been taxed by the experience. If it was known in Calabria that Graham possessed such an unusual talent, it was no wonder he was asked to use it frequently. They did not speak for the rest of the ride as she sorted through the feelings and memories inspired by their conversation.

  When they reached the house, an ornate town coach was parked outside the main entrance. A heavy feeling invaded the pit of her stomach. She cried, “Lady Catherine!” Her fingers clenched the fabric of her pelisse. What could have provoked her to come here? And without a word of warning!

  Graham put his hand on her arm. His eyes searched hers. “Elizabeth, is aught amiss?”

  She lowered her gaze to his waistcoat. “Oh no. Please excuse my outburst. It is my husband’s aunt Lady Catherine de Bourgh. We, ah, have not heard from her in a long while, so seeing her here is…unexpected. That is all.”

  The estrangement from the de Bourghs—Lady Catherine and her daughter, Anne—had been established three years prior upon Fitzwilliam’s receipt of a letter from Lady Catherine. In reply to his own missive announcing their engagement, his aunt had sent a correspondence filled with hostile, insulting words directed towards her, his future wife. Fitzwilliam had been furious and declared all communication with this aunt to be at an end. Since then, Elizabeth’s gentle suggestions to her husband to reach out to Lady Catherine had met unwavering resistance.

  Now, taking a calming breath, she readied herself for Lady Catherine’s formidable presence at Pemberley. Did her sudden appearance indicate a willingness to reconcile and accept their marriage?

  Upon entering the house, they were greeted by a ruddy-cheeked Mr. Rutley. In a hushed tone, he informed her that Lady Catherine de Bourgh and a woman named Lady Rebecca Seymour occupied the front parlour.

  “Well,” said Graham, his blue eyes flourishing with an impish gleam, “shall we go and greet your guests?”

  Elizabeth put on a smile as she dried her palms, damp with perspiration, against the skirt of her dress. “Alas, I am at a loss; I cannot provide a practical alternative.”

  Upon their entrance, Lady Catherine and her companion both stood, their eyes following the Adonis moving towards them.

  Elizabeth curtsied. “Lady Catherine, this is an unexpected pleasure. Forgive me for not being here to welcome you earlier, but I am pleased to see you.”

  Lady Catherine turned to her, but the lady’s eyes strayed several times towards the handsome stranger. “Yes, I am sure you are well pleased to have me honour you with this visit.” She returned her attention to her companion. “Lady Rebecca Seymour, allow me to present the wife of my nephew, Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy.” Lady Catherine’s facial muscles tensed as she pronounced Elizabeth’s name as though it was a painful endeavour.

  Elizabeth curtsied to Lady Rebecca. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Rebecca.” Her breath caught as she took in the lady’s features; she was beautiful in a disturbing and familiar way. The woman looked so similar to herself that an observer might assume they were sisters.

  Lady Rebecca nodded in return.

  “Permit me to introduce Mr. Graham, a good friend of my husband’s. He is visiting us from Calabria.”

  He came forward to bow and flash an engaging smile before each of them. “It is a pleasure to meet two such charming ladies, Lady Catherine, Lady Rebecca.”

  Lady Catherine narrowed her eyes at him. “Mr. Graham, I am pleased to meet any friend of Darcy’s.” She raised her eyebrows at Elizabeth. “It seems you are a very close friend to Mrs. Darcy as well. I hope our arrival has not disrupted plans the two of you may have contrived.”

  Graham smiled. “Not at all, I assure you, Lady Catherine. Elizabeth and I have just returned from visiting a tenant.”

  Lady Catherine’s eyes widened at his use of her given name.

  Elizabeth suppressed a sigh. Lady Catherine could be counted on to attach the worst possible significance to it. Her eyes darted to the table; tea, cakes, and sandwiches had been served to the two ladies. She took a deep breath. Mrs. Reynolds was truly a gem; no doubt, the housekeeper had taken care to include the refreshments Lady Catherine was known to favour.

  When everyone had taken seats, Lady Rebecca addressed her. “Mrs. Darcy, when do you expect your husband to return? Lady Catherine has told me a great deal of him, and I am most anxious to meet him.” The woman’s demeanour as she leaned forward in anticipation of Elizabeth’s response revealed a disquieting fervour.

  Her lips tightened. The woman’s audacity was bizarre and unsettling. What could be her object? Did she wish to intimidate her? If she were not secure in her husband’s love, she might be alarmed at the lady’s apparent eager interest in a man she had yet to meet. “I hope he will return soon, Lady Rebecca.” Elizabeth added for the benefit of both ladies, “My husband has been occupied with estate business of late since his steward left our employ.” Addressing her husband’s aunt, she said, “Might I expect that the two of you will be staying with us for a few days?” She held her breath. Mayhap they were stopping at Pemberley for a day or two on their way to another destination such as the Fitzwilliam estate.

  Lady Catherine said, “We expect to be here for a fortnight.”

  Careful not to let her face betray any reaction to the news, Elizabeth stood. “I pray you will excuse me for a moment. I shall ensure your rooms are prepared.”

  Lady Catherine fluttered her hand. “No need for that; I already instructed your housekeeper to have two rooms prepared in the family wing.”

  Resisting the impulse to frown, she resumed her seat. It was a small matter. No doubt as the former mistress’s sister, she was accustomed to having her choice of accommodations here. “How thoughtful of you, Lady Catherine.”

  With a noise resembling a grunt, Lady Catherine said, “Well, I have always been one who pays attention to these matters, and since no one was here to greet us, I decided I had better ensure it was taken care of.”

  She managed to stop short of rolling her eyes. “If I had but known you were coming, Lady Catherine, I would have been here to greet you and insured all preparations were made well ahead of time.”

  Lady Catherine put a generous slice of cake on her plate. “You should have known. I wrote to my nephew to let him know.”

  She exhaled in a huff. “You wrote to him?”

  “I did. I surmise that Darcy did not see fit to inform you. It is not surprising. Gentlemen often prefer to avoid telling their wives every little detail of their lives.”

  Elizabeth lifted an eyebrow but chose not to respond. What nonsense she spouts! While my father often keeps secrets from my mother for one reason or another, Fitzwilliam would never withhold information so relevant to me and my position. Would he? No, of course not. It is my responsibility to oversee the household, after all; it is essential that I am aware of any expected guests.

  The Pemberley servants were well trained, and they did not lack understanding. Aware that the unexpected arrival of Lady Catherine was an event the master needed to be alerted to as soon as possible, a servant would have left the stables on a fa
st horse to find Fitzwilliam well before the lady’s carriage reached the avenue. Therefore, Elizabeth did not blink an eye when the door to the front parlour opened and her husband burst into the room. His eyes sought her, and she gave him a small smile.

  He moved to greet his aunt. “Lady Catherine, this is a surprise.”

  Lady Catherine stood and offered her hand, over which he bowed. “Darcy, you know very well I wrote to you and told you I was coming. Regardless, I am here.” She took Lady Rebecca’s hand and brought her before him. “Lady Rebecca Seymour, may I present my nephew, Fitzwilliam Darcy.”

  He bowed, “I am pleased to meet you, Lady Rebecca.”

  In horrid fascination, Elizabeth stood with her hands clenched at her sides as Lady Rebecca, with an amatory glimmer to her eyes, gave her husband a pert smile and positioned herself in an affected fashion designed to push forward her ample chest so it was mere inches from him.

  The woman’s voice had a purring quality. “Mr. Darcy, your aunt said you were handsome, but she did not say how very impressive in stature you are.”

  He took a step back. “I thank you, Lady Rebecca.”

  The smile Lady Catherine aimed at Elizabeth brought to mind a cat with a mouse held helpless within its jaws. “Darcy, Lady Rebecca inherited an estate near Manchester from a distant uncle. I told her you would be happy to show her around Pemberley and teach her the fundamentals an estate owner needs to know.”

  Lady Rebecca grasped Fitzwilliam’s arm. “Oh yes, Mr. Darcy, I look forward to learning all I can from you.”

  “My wife and I should be pleased to show you Pemberley. I am sure you can learn a great deal from her in running the household of an estate and establishing a rapport with the tenants. My wife has proven herself to be an excellent mistress.”

  Lady Catherine’s abrasive tone pierced the air. “Lady Rebecca need not learn domestic activities from Elizabeth. She can find a good housekeeper to run the house. But an estate owner must learn all aspects of running an estate lest an unscrupulous steward rob them blind.”

  Her husband gaped at his aunt.

  His response was easy to comprehend. Fitzwilliam had told her in the past that, other than making officious recommendations pertaining to how her tenants should live their lives, Lady Catherine took all too little interest in her own estate. It was her good fortune that her steward was honest and competent.

  Graham’s amusement in the situation was evident in his glittering blue eyes. For him, their guests’ antics were a source of entertainment. He met her eyes and gave her a smile. She flashed a weak one of her own, but she could not maintain it. Why had Lady Catherine come—and why had she brought Lady Rebecca?

  Lady Catherine’s shrill tone agitated her equilibrium. “You must realize I am anxious to meet my grand-nephew. I would like you to have him brought here now.” Though this was spoken as a request, her imperial deportment made it clear she would brook no refusal.

  Her stomach lurched, and her eyes flitted to her husband. A desire to voice a protest welled up within her. Am I to expose Bennet to this woman? She is certain to frighten him. Yet Fitzwilliam gave her a nod and a reassuring smile. It was clear he had no qualms regarding his aunt and their child. No doubt, she was being ridiculous. The woman was his aunt, after all. However, she would bring her son herself so she could first speak to him to ensure he was prepared to meet two strangers. Forcing herself to stand, she made an effort to exhibit the semblance of a smile. “Of course. I shall go and retrieve him.”

  Lady Catherine’s brows came together. “What? Why not ring to have his nurse bring him?”

  “I prefer to get him myself.”

  Fitzwilliam stood. “I shall accompany you.”

  Lady Catherine interposed in a strident voice. “Now that is ridiculous! There can be no need for this, Darcy. Do you not trust your wife to accomplish a task so trivial on her own?”

  His shoulders straightened as he glared upon his aunt.

  Elizabeth reached out and touched his arm. She used a tone designed to placate. “Fitzwilliam, you have not seen your aunt for a long time, and I am sure she has plenty to say to you. You should stay.”

  His eyes met hers for a long moment. Did he wish to reassure himself that she was unperturbed in the face of his aunt’s sudden appearance, or did he seek any excuse to escape the unrelenting attention of his aunt and her friend?

  He nodded. “You are correct.”

  His aunt exhaled with enough force to make her exasperation known. “I am correct, you mean, Nephew! No one is more attentive to propriety than I.”

  Positioning himself so the other two ladies could not observe him, he made a facetious expression for Elizabeth’s benefit.

  It was impossible not to grin. How she loved him! He had an uncanny ability at times to know precisely what she needed from him. She squeezed his hand before she left them.

  Graham rose and crossed the room. “I should like to accompany you, Elizabeth.”

  ***

  Darcy gritted his teeth as Graham followed his wife from the room.

  After the two of them had left, Lady Catherine said, “Well, Darcy, have you yet seen the error of your ways? Can you now admit that it was a mistake to marry so beneath yourself?”

  Resisting the impulse to react in anger, he took a slow breath. “I expect you to give my wife every courtesy. Elizabeth is everything I could have wished for in a wife and more.” Lowering his voice to be audible only to his aunt, he added, “I hoped your appearance here was meant to show you are ready to accept her as my wife. If that is not the case, you should leave without delay.”

  She flinched. “You mistook my object. I was prompted by my wish to satisfy myself you have no regrets and are not keeping her to maintain appearances. I am pleased to understand that you remain content with the woman.” Her frown belied her words.

  “You will refer to her as Elizabeth or Mrs. Darcy.”

  “Of course—Elizabeth.” Lady Catherine gestured to a spot on the settee next to Lady Rebecca. “Now shall you stop hovering over us and sit before you give me a sore neck?”

  He sat, choosing a nearby chair instead. “How is Anne?”

  His aunt’s face took on a pinched expression. “Anne is well. She sends her regards. She would enjoy it if you came to Rosings for a visit.”

  He tensed. “Elizabeth and I shall have to see whether we can find the time.” Will you show my wife the respect she deserves during this stay? If you cannot manage that, I have no reason to contemplate a trip to Rosings.

  Lady Catherine squeezed her lips together with such force that they seemed to disappear altogether.

  Darcy took a quick glance at Lady Rebecca. How uncharacteristic it was for his aunt to travel with a lady other than his cousin; he had never known her to do so before.

  An unpleasant glint came into his aunt’s eyes as they focused upon him. “I must say, Darcy, you are far more liberal that I had expected. Not many husbands would allow their wives to run around alone with a handsome gentleman friend. Most would feel concern—if not for his wife’s fidelity, then for the unseemliness of her actions.”

  He employed an icy tone. “I assure you, Lady Catherine, my wife’s conduct is above reproach.” Darcy’s harsh mien softened, and he rose from his seat as Elizabeth entered the room holding Bennet’s hand, followed by Graham and Miss Hunter.

  His son walked behind Elizabeth, so his body stayed hidden by her skirt as he peered at the unfamiliar ladies. Bennet smiled upon seeing him, and ran to him with his arms outstretched. “Papa!” The corners of Darcy’s lips lifted as he grabbed the boy under his arms held his son against his chest. He resumed his seat with Bennet on his lap.

  Lady Catherine wrinkled her nose. “Darcy! That was an indecorous display. It is never too soon to teach the boy the proper way to greet his parents an
d guests. Mark my words; you are doing him no favours by treating him like a baby.”

  Glaring at his aunt, he spoke with a harsh inflection. “Bennet is not yet two years old. I assure you, our son will learn all that is expected of him in good time. For now, he is learning his letters and numbers, and his vocabulary grows by the day. But for the most part, this is his time to be free to play and be a child.”

  Lady Rebecca looked askance at her companion. “The boy is yet so young. He has plenty of time to learn manners and such.”

  In response, Lady Catherine directed a grimace towards Lady Rebecca. She appealed again to her nephew. “Darcy, you know very well your parents did not raise you this way. What do you suppose they would say if they could see you now?”

  His face flushed with a raging heat. He would not act in anger and frighten Bennet, yet it was apparent Lady Catherine had frightened the child. His son acted in response to his aunt’s caustic tone by shrinking away from her and leaning against him, his small fingers clutching the lapels of his coat.

  He patted the boy’s back. “As a matter of fact, my earliest memories are of my mother spending hours with me each day.”

  She waved her hand in a dismissive motion. “Yes, your mother doted on you more than she should have, but I am certain your father did not.”

  Tilting his head, he gave Bennet a reassuring smile. His son twisted in his arms to view Lady Catherine; it seemed his son’s curiosity overcame his trepidation. “I am confident that, were my parents alive, they would respect my decision to raise my son in the way I see fit.”

  His aunt’s eyes settled on Bennet, and her tone softened. “Well, I must allow he is a handsome child. He is the very image of you at that age, Darcy.” She gave his wife a quick glance. “I suppose you should be commended, Elizabeth, for providing my nephew with a healthy heir.”

 

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