Death Takes a Holiday at Pemberley

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Death Takes a Holiday at Pemberley Page 11

by Kelly Miller


  Upon entering the library, he found his aunt in her favourite bergère chair engrossed in a book. A quick glance at the title revealed that her reading material was a novel published earlier that year.

  She closed the book in her lap and favoured him with a smile. “Darcy, tell me: How was your day with Lady Rebecca? I trust she learned a great deal from the experience?”

  He lowered himself into a chair across from her. “Yes, I would say she did. Lady Rebecca had many questions for me, so I believe she did receive some benefit.” His stiff attitude at the onset of their excursion, derived from the anticipation of hours spent fending off advances from the lady, had relaxed over time when she had retreated from her amorous conduct towards him. The relief at having been saved from confrontation for her unwanted overtures was intense. Although she had taxed his patience at times with her frequent questions throughout the day, her earnest expression as she had asked them and her words of appreciation for each of his replies had made him regret his vexation. It seemed her desire to learn about estate management was genuine. Nevertheless, he would not allow himself to be distracted from his resolve. In a low, sombre tone, he said, “I wish to discuss a serious matter.”

  Lady Catherine leaned towards him. “Very well. What is on your mind?”

  “I have given consideration to the manner in which I have conducted myself with you and Anne over the years, and I am dissatisfied with my actions. I owe you an apology for never having disabused you of the notion years ago that I would one day marry Anne. The truth is that there had never been any such certainty in my mind. I had always felt I was free to choose whomever I wished to marry, and I was wrong not to have made it clear well before I ever became engaged to Elizabeth. For that, I apologize.”

  Her caustic voice blared throughout the sizable room. “I cannot believe you have sunk so low. You are reduced to doing the bidding of that woman! I suppose your wife cried on your shoulder last night. I know very well it was she who told you to say those things.”

  Darcy gritted his teeth at this reminder of why he had refused all connection with his aunt for three years. Yet he had come for a purpose. It would not do to allow her to deter him from it no matter how much she tried his patience. He squared his shoulders as he devised his retort. “Elizabeth does not know I am discussing this with you. She and I had a conversation last night that, after a period of contemplation, helped me to view my own past actions in a different light. At the time, I did not acknowledge the justice of her words, but since then, I have decided she was correct in every particular.”

  “This is pathetic! After all this time, you remain under the woman’s spell. I do not understand it. I suppose a common girl like her is gifted in the bedchamber.”

  He narrowed his eyes and jutted his chin out. “How dare you speak of my wife in such a way!”

  “What am I supposed to think? Why are you wasting your time trying to improve my opinion of your wife? Do you think me ignorant of what went on when she was staying at Hunsford? I know it all. I observed how she threw herself at your cousin to arouse your jealousy, how she teased and flirted with you. I know of your visits to the parsonage where you met with her alone and of your many walks alone with her in the woods.”

  As heat rose up from his neck in response to his aunt’s insinuations, he endeavoured to maintain his calm. What must he say to convince his aunt to see reason? If he confessed the truth to her, maybe he could make her understand.

  “You are mistaken. Elizabeth was not the least bit interested in me at that time. Yes, there were occasions when I was alone with her because I was attempting to court her, but instead, I succeeded in making a cake of myself. This will shock you, but I offered marriage to her back then, and she rejected me in no uncertain terms.”

  Lady Catherine spat, “Listen to yourself, Darcy; you are spouting nonsense! That woman came from an inconsequential family with four sisters. Unless she had taken leave of her senses, no woman in such a situation would reject so wealthy a man as you.”

  He flinched. His aunt’s speech was a close reflection of his own arrogant outlook back then. Had he not believed that Elizabeth was his for the asking? What a fool he had been! “Elizabeth had good reason to reject me at the time. She considered my character to be lacking in part because of lies told to her by another but also because of my own bad behaviour.”

  “Your bad behaviour?” She let out a harsh laugh. “That is ridiculous. Do not forget, I have been to her father’s modest estate, and I am aware of the patched up business around her youngest sister’s marriage. Your wife’s sister is married to the son of your father’s steward!” A swollen vein throbbing in her neck was visible. “With her arts and allurements, she seduced you into overlooking even that disgraceful matter. Oh, your wife is nothing if not cunning. I almost admire how artful she is. She has you so deluded that you still deny the truth to this day. You say she rejected you. If so, it was a devious move on her part. It made you want her all the more.”

  He blew his breath out through his cheeks. “Aunt, you are very stubborn and seem determined to think the worst of Elizabeth no matter what I may say.”

  She folded her arms in front of her. “You will never convince me that she is not the cause of Anne’s great humiliation and despair.”

  Darcy leaned forward and put his hand on his aunt’s arm. “I am heartily sorry for any unhappiness my marriage has caused Anne. It is my fault. I am the cause of it. I am the one you should be angry with, not Elizabeth.”

  Her face was distorted and pinched as she shook her head. “I thought you to be stronger than this, but in the end you are just a man, and you fell into a well-laid trap. Even now, you will not acknowledge the truth of it.”

  What more could he do? He was not the most articulate of men, but he had said all he could think of to make her disavow her mistaken views. It might be futile to continue the discussion. The determined set of his aunt’s countenance evinced a mind that would not be swayed. It appeared that, when it came to his wife, his aunt was unwilling to consider the possibility she could be wrong. With each hand clenched upon an arm of his chair, he posed a question that gnawed at his conscience. “If I had told you when I was, let us say, two and twenty, that I had no intention of marrying Anne, would you have raised her in a different way? Might you have sent her to school, hired her drawing or music masters, or given her a season or two in London?”

  She made a rude, snort-like noise. “No, of course not. I would not have believed any such statement from you. I would have assumed you simply needed more time to see the wisdom of the plan. Young men of two and twenty cannot be expected to know what is best for them yet. Besides, I kept Anne at home for the sake of her health. You know very well she has always had a weak constitution.”

  As he allowed the breath he had been holding to escape, a portion of the tension in his back dissipated. At least he could absolve himself of bearing any responsibility for the way Anne was raised by her mother. He had not handled the situation well, but at least he had expressed his regret to his aunt, however little she accepted his words. Foremost on his mind now was the need to apologize to his wife. “It appears it is an impossibility to persuade you to change your mind concerning Elizabeth, yet I remind you that she is my wife and the mistress of this house. As long as you are here, I demand you treat her with respect.”

  His aunt opened the book in her lap and thumbed through it until she found the page she sought. “And so I shall.”

  He stared for a moment longer at his aunt. Was there more he could have said? One thing was certain: the old bat was as obstinate as they come.

  After leaving the library, he went up to his chambers to change for dinner. As he waited for Elizabeth, he occupied himself with writing some letters of business. He held back until it seemed she was finished dressing before knocking on the connecting door to her room.

 
***

  “Elizabeth, may I come in?” Her husband’s voice came through the door.

  Elizabeth nodded at Gibbs, who turned and left the room. Straightening her posture and drawing in a deep breath, she opened the door that connected to Fitzwilliam’s rooms. Her eyes reached the level of his shoulder. She spoke in a cool, detached inflection. “It is your house. I do not suppose I could stop you from entering any room within it.”

  As he entered, he said, “It is our house, Elizabeth, and I hope you know I would not impose myself on you in any way if you did not wish it. I am sorry for the way I acted last night. I regret that I walked out in anger and spent the night without you.”

  Any remaining resentment dissolved at the sight of his mien, contorted in remorse. While a weight had been lifted from her, she held her relief in check; they still had much to discuss. She sat upon her settee and gestured for him to sit beside her, which he did. “Fitzwilliam, I am sorry too. Given time to reflect on the matter, I have concluded it was not fair of me to censure you for dealings with your family before you met me.”

  Taking a gentle hold of her hand, her husband turned it over, inspecting the small abrasion on the side of her hand. He lifted it to his mouth and brushed his lips against it, bestowing the softest of kisses. “Did you hurt yourself anywhere else?”

  “Just my knee. It is nothing, really.”

  “May I see it?”

  She lifted her skirt to reveal an angry, thin, three-inch-long scrape on her knee.

  “Is it painful?”

  She shook her head. “Not really. It is a bit sore.”

  Lines formed on his brow. “I should have been with you. If I had been holding your hand, I could have prevented this.”

  With the intention of lightening his mood, she kept her tone light. “I suppose you could be blamed since I was distracted and thinking of you when I fell.”

  “I know you spoke in jest, but I still feel responsible. I am sorry.”

  She squeezed his hand. “No, no. You cannot claim accountability for my own carelessness.”

  His dark eyes settled upon her with a compelling earnestness. “I want you to know you were correct in most of what you said last night. I had an enlightening and frustrating discussion with my aunt earlier today. I apologized for not telling her many years earlier that I did not consider myself bound to marry Anne. I tried in every way I could think of to convince her that she has no reason to blame you in any way for any disappointed hopes Anne might have, but she refused to believe me. It appears she is determined to blame you for pulling me away from her daughter. It seemed useless to continue arguing with her, so I ended our conversation by admonishing her to treat you with respect, and she agreed.” His thumb stroked her palm. “I asked Lady Catherine whether she would have given Anne a different lifestyle if I had told her years before our marriage that I would not marry her daughter. She said it would not have made a difference. She insisted she kept Anne from going to London or pursuing a formal education because of her health. She further stated she would not have believed me in any case; she would have assumed that I would change my mind in time. I admit my aunt’s words brought me relief.”

  She exhaled a long breath. If Lady Catherine had given him a different answer, her husband would have had a difficult time forgiving himself. “Fitzwilliam, I own I am curious: Why did you never tell your aunt you did not intend to marry your cousin Anne? In your shoes, I would have protested it from the start.”

  Rigidity entered his bearing. “I first heard of it when I was fifteen years old—a few years after my mother’s death. I had been visiting Rosings with my father, and Lady Catherine remarked to me that I would marry Anne one day. Her words shocked me, but I made no reply. When I was alone with my father, I told him what she said. He said I should not listen to her nor brood over it. He stated that she had no say over whom I married. I believe my father said as much to my aunt because she never brought the subject up again until he passed away over seven years later.”

  His eyes darkened, and his grip tightened on her hand. “Lady Catherine waited no more than a se’nnight past my father’s death before she brought up the subject of my marrying Anne. That was the first time she had claimed a marriage between Anne and me was my mother’s favourite wish. Though I did not believe it, I did not protest when my aunt spoke of it in my presence. At first, I was too distressed and overwhelmed by the loss of my father to deal with her claims. Later, I hoped, if I showed no interest in Anne, my aunt would give up on the scheme. I took the easiest path: one of avoidance. I am not proud of that decision. But worse than that—I have come to appreciate that you were correct when you supposed I considered Anne always to have been an option for me to marry. I wish you to understand it was nothing more than an idle thought; until I met you, I never thought of marriage in any serious vein.” He cradled her cheek with his hand. “Do you forgive me?”

  She covered his hand with her own, brought it to her mouth, and kissed it. “I do. I hope you will forgive me as well. I was unfair in my accusations. Once your father passed away, as you dealt with your grief, you were saddled with huge responsibilities all at once—management of Pemberley and your other properties and care of your younger sister. It was absurd of me to presume you should have had liability for your cousin Anne as well. She was your aunt’s obligation. You are the most honourable man I know. Please forgive me for my thoughtless words of last night. I was made upset by my conversation with your aunt, and I spoke in part from that feeling of unease. Suffice it to say I was not in my most rational state of mind.”

  “I do forgive you, of course. Nevertheless, I should have recognised the truth in your words instead of getting angry. I regret that I never spoke of my aunt’s expectations to Anne. I owe my cousin an apology as well.” His eyes drifted from her glistening eyes to her lips. He leaned over, pressed his lips to hers, and slowly pulled back.

  “Fitzwilliam.”

  “Yes, my love?”

  She bit her bottom lip. It was a shame to ruin her husband’s mood, but it was important that he be informed of his aunt’s plan. “When I talked to Lady Catherine last night, she revealed her purpose in coming here. She admitted she brought Lady Rebecca here to seduce you. Her object is to cause me pain. She seeks retaliation for the hurt she believes I caused her daughter.”

  He froze, his face darkening to a deep crimson. “I cannot believe this—and she accused you of cunning! We are married three years and have a son, and she hopes to destroy our marriage?”

  She winced. He was utterly engulfed in anger. Should she have kept this to herself? There was no telling what he might decide to do next. No, she needed to tell him everything; she would expect no less from him. “I believe she wants to hurt me in particular.”

  He clutched her to him in an embrace. “I shall not allow anyone to harm you, Elizabeth. I shall make my aunt and Lady Rebecca leave first thing in the morning.”

  As she leaned into her husband’s embrace, she breathed in his scent, a seductive mix of the jasmine and orange blossom solution applied by Winston after his shave and his own masculine fragrance, and a feeling of calm settled upon her. How she had missed his presence the night before! Spurred by a hastily formed certainty, she stated, “I do not wish you to do so.”He moved back to face her, his eyes searching hers. “What? Why not? How can I allow her to stay when she has admitted her purpose is to hurt you?”

  “First, allow me to ask you an important question. You spent a good deal of time with Lady Rebecca today. Is there any danger of your either falling in love with the woman or falling into bed with her?”

  His eyes widened. “No, of course not. You know me better than that. As it happened, I was relieved to find Lady Rebecca to be much less overt in her attentions to me today. I was prepared to be direct, even rude, with her if it became necessary.”

  She cocked her hea
d. This was an intriguing change in the woman’s demeanour. What could it mean? “I believe Lady Catherine has found some way to impel Lady Rebecca to go along with this scheme, and I do not think she will give up. No doubt, Lady Rebecca realized her former conduct displeased you and she decided to alter her approach. If we could persuade her to leave without your aunt, that would be ideal, but as it is, I think we should let them stay—at least for now.”

  He drew in a deep breath and released it in a forceful blast. “Whatever for?”

  She lifted an eyebrow. “Mayhap I can win your aunt over.”

  His incredulous stare penetrated her. “Why would you even want to attempt it, knowing what she is aiming to achieve? You should want her gone as soon as possible.”

  She sucked in her lower lip. It would be wonderful to be rid of Lady Rebecca, but she was not ready to give up on her husband’s aunt quite yet. “As misguided as your aunt might be, she is your mother’s sister. If we force her to leave Pemberley, I do not believe this rift will ever be repaired. I have a stubbornness that does not like to give up without a fight. I might be wrong, but I think when your aunt first knew me as Elizabeth Bennet, she liked me.” She gave him a pert smile. “I dare say you and she were alike; you both took notice of me because I treated you as no one else had done before.”

  “I cannot be easy with being compared to my aunt under the current circumstances.”

  Damn, he had not given her the least hint of a smile. It seemed at the moment that levity was out of his reach; this might require some finesse. “My point is, if I put a bit of effort into it, I might be able to persuade her to like me again.”

  Her husband shifted his weight, and his eyes remained on her as creases formed on his brow. “My love, you cannot really wish to subject yourself to this folly. You must realize my aunt can be a malicious old crone when she wants to be.”

 

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