by Kelly Miller
Hmm, I suppose I shall take that to mean, “Yes, I thank you.” With a warm smile directed at her son, she said, “I thought you might like to see how Bennet is progressing with his letters.”
Lady Catherine raised her eyes from her magazine to scowl at her. “I do not know what your game is, but you are wasting your time. Whatever you do, it will have no effect on me.”
Adopting a neutral mien, she led Bennet to a sofa near Lady Catherine’s chair. “I do not take your meaning. I had thought to relieve your concerns that Bennet is not receiving the education he ought to at his age while giving you the opportunity to become better acquainted with him.”
Bennet bent his head and leaned against his mother as he peeked at the stony-faced older woman.
Speaking to her son, she gestured towards Lady Catherine. “This lady is your great-aunt, Lady Catherine. Can you say ‘Lady Catherine’?”
“Lady Cat-tin.”
“Lady Cath-er-ine.”
“Lady Cat-ta-in.”
“Lady Cath-er-ine.”
“Lady Cat-ta-in.”
She ran her hand over her son’s head, ruffling his dark, curly hair. “That was an admirable attempt. Your great-aunt is a considerable lady with a substantial name to match.” To Lady Catherine, she said, “A few sounds give Bennet trouble, but he knows a great number of words already for his age. He has memorised the names of all the horses in the stables.”
Lady Catherine did not respond and appeared to turn her attention back to her magazine.
Picking up a stack of cards with letters written on them, she held each one in front of Bennet in random order, quizzing him on them. Her son was successful in naming all the letters except for the Bs and Ds, which he mixed up half the time. She praised him for his good performance.
When they had gone through all the cards, she suggested that Bennet select one of his books. He climbed down from the sofa and grabbed a favourite from the special shelf installed for his use several months earlier. It had been Fitzwilliam’s notion; he anticipated the three of them perusing books together in the library once their son had mastered reading.
Her son placed the well-worn volume of Perrault’s Mother Goose Tales in her lap. As she read aloud from his beloved book, he displayed every sign of being enraptured. His eyes grew larger as the tale evolved, and his smile widened each time she altered her voice to portray the various characters in the stories. At every turn of a page, he pointed to the characters in the fanciful illustrations drawn on each page and called out their names.
After twenty minutes of reading, she instructed him to put his book away, and she gathered the cards. She and her son took their leave of Lady Catherine with Bennet demonstrating the bow he had been practicing of late.
Lady Catherine gave them a curt nod.
As they took the stairs back to the nursery, Elizabeth spoke in an undertone. “You did very well, my dear. Your papa’s aunt is as tough as they come, but despite her show of imperviousness, I do not believe even she can resist your charms.”
***
Once Elizabeth had left with the boy, Lady Catherine reclined against her chair and allowed her shoulders to relax. She released a deep breath. What a relief it was to be left in solitude after that interruption—peace and quiet restored at last.
As she turned her attention back to the article she had been reading before the intruders entered the library, a small voice in the back of her head badgered her. It had been rather pleasant having the company of Elizabeth and the child. Well—the child was pleasant anyway; Elizabeth could be considered tolerable at best. It is amazing how much the boy looks as Darcy did at his age. Although, even as a child, Darcy was always quiet and serious while Bennet is sprightly and cheery. It is clear the boy is quite intelligent too.
Moments later, she had managed to banish the perfidious voice. She had come to Pemberley for a specific purpose, and she would not be deterred from it.
***
Lady Rebecca Seymour pressed her hand against her abdomen and winced. She was propped up by several large pillows on the sofa in her guest room. Despite the pain, the timing of her courses on this occasion could be viewed as a welcome respite. The easy banter on display between the Darcys the prior evening had left her with a heavy feeling in the pit of her stomach. Until then, she had told herself that her actions were not so terrible a thing. Was it not commonplace, after all, for married couples of the ton to engage in affairs? Her own husband had done so before he died, and though she had not, the thought had entered her mind.
Lady Catherine’s description of Elizabeth Darcy had been one of a heartless woman who had been cold and calculated in her pursuit of the man betrothed to her daughter. But regardless of the events that brought the couple together, it was evident that they were now a love match.
She had confidence enough in the power of her own physical appeal, but Mr. Darcy had not shown the least interest in her. It seemed the sole way to make Mrs. Darcy believe her husband was an adulterer would be to force the man against his will into a contrived amorous situation. The thought of having to participate in an entrapment of that sort left her with an acrid taste in her mouth.
She blew out a burst of air as a painful spasm radiated within her. Tears blurred her vision. What was she to do? She had an unhappy dilemma before her. She gnashed her teeth in an attempt to rally her fortitude. She would do what was necessary to save her estate, but goodness—if only she had a better alternative!
***
Darcy and Graham’s first stop that day was the stables. A large stall near the entrance to the stables was occupied by a new resident, a handsome brown Welsh pony. Darcy opened the stall door and walked around the pony, giving the animal a close inspection.
Graham kept his distance, watching from outside the stall. “I presume the pony is intended for your boy.”
He gave the pony a pat on his neck. “That is correct. I wished to make sure he arrived in good health. This stall is usually left empty unless we have a mare and foal that need the extra space. If my son visits the horses, he will not look here. I expect the arrival of several family members on the nineteenth of September for Elizabeth and Bennet’s birthdays. My wife knows we are celebrating on that day, but she is not aware her family is coming.”
“I see. So unbeknown to your wife, Pemberley shall have more guests. That must have been burdensome to arrange.”
Darcy walked out of the pony’s stall and closed the door. “Not all that difficult. I had the assistance of Mrs. Reynolds, and I have invited my sister and her husband and my good friend Mr. Bingley and his wife, Jane, Elizabeth’s eldest sister, so it is to be a small family party.”
Gazing off into the distance, Graham spoke as if to himself. “But now you also have Lady Catherine, Lady Rebecca, and me.”
He raked his fingers through his hair. “Yes, the timing for Lady Catherine’s visit could not be worse.” He took a heavy breath. “I take it there is no chance you will cut your holiday short and leave us before then?”
Graham’s brow constricted as he leaned his weight against the wall. “I should be sorry to think you wish me gone. Have I done aught in particular to distress you?”
Darcy’s jaw clenched, and his breathing grew erratic. “You cannot be serious! You must realize it is taxing having you here.” With a glance around the area to ensure none of the grooms were near, he moved before Graham. “You threatened to end my life! I know you have powers I cannot comprehend. Your abilities are far beyond what a mortal man can hope to accomplish. How could you expect me to feel easy having your presence forced upon my wife and son? How am I to know what you have in mind to do?”
Graham cast his eyes downward. “It was never my intention to cause you disquiet. I told you this once before, and I did not lie. You need not fear for your family’s welfare.”
; Darcy’s eyes bore into Graham for a time before he replied. “I suppose I have no choice but to take you at your word.”
“I am afraid so.”
Darcy’s hands formed tight fists as his heart thumped at a wild pace. Nothing in his power—not his physical strength, his wealth, nor his intelligence—would impede someone with Graham’s abilities. His family was vulnerable to Graham’s whims, and he could do nothing to stop him.
The two rode to a small barn located thirty yards from Pemberley’s dower cottage. When they entered the barn, they encountered a young groom brushing a beautiful sorrel Arabian mare.
Graham halted at the barn entrance.
Darcy continued in and approached the horse while addressing the groom. “Good day, Billy. I see the mare arrived as promised. I understand you spent the morning riding her. How did she behave?”
The young groom stood at attention as he spoke. “Sir, I am sure the mare shall make your missus a good horse. I never saw such a pretty one as she. She is spirited but gentle enough to make a reliable riding horse.” Billy followed behind Darcy as he examined the mare. “She got scared when we rode by the seed drill. I expect she ain’t never seen one before. She stopped and stared at it as if she was sure it would attack her. Another time she shied when one of the dogs came right near her, but both times, she was sensible—just stood frozen-like. Calming her was easy as could be. When I stroked her neck and told her it was nothing to fuss over, she seemed to listen to me. Many horses have more hair than wit, but not her; she’s a bright one. She’s perfect for a fine lady like Mrs. Darcy.”
His groom’s enthusiasm caused him to smile as he moved his hand down the horse’s neck. “I am pleased to know my presentiment in regard to this mare has been supported by your own experience.” He moved forward to face the horse. His decision to purchase her had been influenced in part by her large, expressive eyes; they had seemed to indicate an inner wisdom reminiscent of his own excellent stallion, Regal.
Billy’s affirmation of his choice of a horse for Elizabeth was significant. The nineteen-year-old groom had lived his entire life around horses. The young man possessed a keen sense for judging the conformation and disposition of a horse.
“I wish her to be kept out here until the nineteenth. I would not want my wife to see her before then.”
Billy nodded. “As you say, sir. I’ll keep her out of view from the house.”
Darcy stroked the mare’s forehead as his gaze fixed again upon her dark eyes. “Thank you, Billy.”
***
Graham had been leaning against the barn entrance as Darcy scrutinised the horse and spoke with the young groom. Here was another example of a Pemberley servant who appeared happy in his position. The young man, Billy, displayed a wide smile as he provided Darcy with his opinion of the horse. It was evident from Graham’s encounters with the servants at Pemberley—whether they worked in the manor, the stables, or the grounds—that they were content with their situations.
Before long, they were riding out again. When Darcy led them off the main path to cut through the woods, Graham asked, “Where are we off to now?”
“One of my tenants requested an addition be made to his residence. His wife is with child, and several months earlier, he took in one of his nephews, so they need more space. The work was supposed to have begun several days ago. Mr. Cross stopped by yesterday, but I wish to see for myself how it is coming along.”
“And how shall you be repaid for such an expense? Will you charge him more when it is time to renew the lease?”
“I do not expect so. I find that, as a tenant’s family grows, their production increases likewise. When the children are old enough, they will contribute their share to the work, and nothing inspires a man to work harder than the wish to provide for his family.”
He rubbed his chin. “Pardon me, but I admit I am surprised that a wealthy estate owner such as you would have such a view. You appear to be quite the optimist. I am sure you are aware that countless husbands and fathers live lives of dissolution and sloth. I have seen it all too often. The thoughts and memories of the men and women whose deaths I have observed have shown me a world full of people who make the wrong choices. I cannot help but wonder whether you are making yourself vulnerable to a disappointment by expecting diligence and integrity from your tenants that they may not be capable of demonstrating.”
After a long pause, during which he seemed to ruminate upon his speech, Darcy said, “Over the years, several tenants have failed to fulfil their contracts. Of those, most improved in their conduct while a couple of them were evicted. However, the vast majority of my tenants, including the tenant I was speaking of earlier, have shown themselves to be hard-working, dependable people.”
Graham nodded. At that moment, the words of the late Mrs. Green resounded in his head. She had been full of appreciation for the kind treatment her family had received from the Darcys. One could deduce that there were enough good people like the Greens to make up for the few who were less virtuous and reliable.
***
Lady Rebecca lay on the sofa in her room with the shades drawn. She was attempting to take a nap when the startling sounds of brisk footsteps, accompanied by the regular discordant banging of a walking stick upon the floor, roused her with a jolt. There could be no mistaking who was soon to invade her chamber. The knock upon her door was answered by her maid. Lady Catherine, in a tone that brooked no refusal, ordered her to wait in the hall.
As her maid scampered out the door, Lady Catherine strode towards the sofa. “What is the meaning of this? Are you truly ill?”
She flinched. What an abominable woman! “Yes, I am in pain as is often the case for me on the first two days of my courses. The cramps are debilitating. I shall keep to my room until the day after tomorrow.”
The woman’s voice lost none of its vigour. “Well you must realize this is most inconvenient! I had hoped you would have turned my nephew’s head by now. Whatever you are doing is not enough. You must be bolder in your interactions with him.”
She took a steadying breath. No good could come from losing her temper with Lady Catherine, no matter how the woman provoked her. “I disagree. I tried being obvious in my attentions to Mr. Darcy for the first day or so. You saw how overt I was in my manner towards him. It merely served to make him more distant and curt with me. I have decided a subtle approach may be more effective. My plan is to desist from any physical contact. Instead, I shall ask him questions and show an interest and appreciation for everything he says. I shall have him instruct me about the accounts and ledgers of an estate. That will provide a reason for sustained close companionship.”
Lady Catherine’s eyes flashed with a menacing gleam. “Yes, I think that might work. Make sure you flatter him often too. Men love compliments.” She forced a loud sigh. “I dislike your wasting these two full days, but I suppose it cannot be helped.”
Confronted with the older lady’s unrelenting stare, Rebecca dropped her gaze. “You know how important the money is to me, and I shall do everything in my power to earn it. But I cannot help but notice that Mr. Darcy appears to be happy in his marriage. It is possible he will not be persuaded to stray from his wife no matter what I do.”
“See that you continue your efforts. If need be, we shall set up an adulterous scene.” Lady Catherine’s visage twisted into a grotesque grimace.
Rebecca shivered. The woman was not the kind of person she would wish to have as an enemy. “But how? Mr. Darcy is an intelligent man; it will not be easy to either trick or coerce him into a trap.”
“Let that be my responsibility. If you continue to do as I ask, one way or another you will earn your money.”
***
At dinner that evening, Lady Catherine shared the information that Lady Rebecca was unwell and she would keep to her rooms for the next day or so. Elizabeth e
xpressed her intention of visiting the lady herself on the morrow to inquire after her health.
Lady Catherine’s back stiffened as she focused upon Elizabeth. Why would she go to the trouble of looking in on Lady Rebecca? She must be pleased to have the lady out of the way for a while. No doubt, she has languished under the threat to her marriage posed by Lady Rebecca’s continued presence, and she hopes to convince her to depart. If so, it would be a waste of time.
She was rarely taken unawares by anyone, so it was irksome to have been made disconcerted by her, of all people. It happened right after the soup course as she was about to take a sip of wine. Her hand carrying the wine glass froze halfway to her mouth, and her lips pressed together as Elizabeth announced they would play quadrille after dinner.
She set her glass of wine on the table with a blaring clink. In the past, she had become accustomed to going without her favourite pastime when at Pemberley. Both Darcy and his father before him had detested the game and always vetoed any suggestion of playing, and her nephew had never been convinced to play at Rosings.
Elizabeth met her eyes with a bold smile. “I recall from several evenings spent at Rosings Park that you had a particular fondness for the game.”
Was she, perchance, unaware of her husband’s dislike? This should prove entertaining, to say the least. Lady Catherine straightened her posture. “Darcy detests the game. Who shall make the fourth?” Did the woman expect her to play with one of the servants?
“I shall be the fourth, of course.”
Sputtering, she spun to face her nephew. “What? You? You hate the game; I have never persuaded you to play before!”
Darcy’s tone was nonchalant. “Nevertheless, I shall play tonight.”
She pointed to Elizabeth. “You are playing because she asked you? Is there no limit to what you will do for that woman?”
Darcy’s nostrils flared, and his jaw tightened, but he remained silent.
Mr. Graham’s cheerful tone broke through the tension at the table. “My lady, I must say I am looking forward to playing quadrille. I have not played it in years, but I dare say I used to be better than average at the game.” Presenting a sparkling smile, he added, “I have a feeling you shall be the one to beat.”