by Kay Mares
“Pierce flushed bright red and shortly left the room.” Elizabeth chuckles with Darcy.
“Any idea who he met out here?” Henry wants to know.
“Oh yes, before I came out here to find Fitzwilliam, Miss Polmear returned with a bit of a wrinkled gown, a flush and her hair mussed. I think it safe to say she has once more shown her true nature.”
“Using her body to help her ferret out secrets so that she once more may report gossip to the papers. She always tries to lead with her best assets.” Darcy spits out disgustedly.
“Fitzwilliam.” Lizzy lightly admonishes him, but her eyes twinkle. Darcy eases as he looks at Elizabeth’s face.
The rest of the evening is passing by pleasantly. Henry has renewed some acquaintances, Jonesy and Kitty visit with friends along with Georgiana and Matthew. Caroline has stayed with Jane and Elizabeth mostly, while Bingley and Darcy speak with some of the men about that most riveting of all topics, horseflesh. Matthew and Henry soon join the group followed by Sir Pierce. Darcy and the rest have just heard a harrowing account of one man’s horse bolting out of control and almost causing the man serious injury. Everyone agrees that the man has been most fortunate, but Sir Pierce starts a side conversation once more with Darcy.
“It seems that you are as fortunate as Mr. Sheehan. Luck smiles upon you, Darcy.” Sir Pierce opens with.
“I cannot fathom your meaning, Pierce. I am no more fortunate than the next person.” A haughty stiffness and aloofness enter Darcy’s being.
“Why I have heard that some years ago, you and your honorable cousin survived an attack on your coach from highwaymen, then you almost succumbed to illness later that year. Just recently, you survived a brutal attack on your person. I would say you are quite fortunate you triumphed over each.”
“Indeed.” Darcy allows the conversation to end. The past incidents could have been relayed to Pierce by any number of sources. The highwaymen who assailed Henry and Darcy were killed, and over time various people learned about Henry and Darcy becoming stranded at a hunting cabin after losing the carriage horses and some of the staff. Additionally, gossip and speculation went about almost unchecked when Darcy became violently ill with delirium and fever some months after he and Elizabeth wed, many people assumed the young Master of Pemberley would not survive. However, regarding this latest incident, as no one had yet been brought forward on charges for the assault on Darcy’s person and Jonesy did his best to forestall rumors, Darcy knew surprise when Pierce mentioned it.
Pierce retreats as Henry comes closer to Darcy. “What did the bloke say to you this time? Your scowl gives me mind of many memories of events such as these before Elizabeth came into your life.”
“Not here.” Darcy leads the way to an unoccupied corner of the room where he tells Henry of the exchange.
“I do not like it, Fitz. I think Pierce knows more than he should.”
“But if he is somehow involved, why take the risk of accidentally tipping me off or angering me? It makes no sense.”
“I will have some more associates see what they can find out. Maybe there is a connection we are not thinking of. Let me guess, ‘tipping me off’ is another one of those foolish American sayings you are so fond of.” Henry grunts exasperatedly. “I had thought you were growing out of your jejune ways. Since we are discussing your immaturity, I must ask, are you the one who slipped the kippers into Jonesy’s document satchel? You know the very presence of them makes him ill.”
The slight upturn to Darcy’s mouth betrays him. “Indeed.” He responds with a chuckle. “More than likely he will blame you and pity me because I am injured.”
“Incorrigible and diabolical.” Henry laughs, “But very amusing.”
The next morning Elizabeth and Darcy decide to visit one of the orphanages. Years ago, Darcy had witnessed a carriage horse being whipped and abused after the animal fell trying to haul an overloaded wagon. Darcy, who has a strong affinity for horses regardless of pedigree, stopped the abuse, purchased the horse from the cruel man and saw the horse back to health. Once the horse recovered fully, Darcy donated him to the orphanage and paid for his upkeep. The orphans dubbed the horse Dudley and took over the horse’s complete care with Darcy supplying any funds needed. Dudley became a confidant to many a small, scared child, and Darcy would regularly visit both to check the horse and to bring the children treats. The cruel owner purchased another horse but now operates under the scrutiny of Darcy’s men.
As soon as the orphans see Darcy, there is an immediate rush towards the big man. Some of the children eagerly tell him about what Dudley is doing or some other fact about the horse while other children fix their eyes on the bags Darcy holds, knowing that soon he will give them the candy he has brought along. Still, others hang back, too shy to approach. Elizabeth watches her spouse interact with these unfortunate children. Her heart swells with love for him. He never was what he had appeared to be all those long lonely years ago. She is further amused by the rotund shiny horse who never lacks for care or treats. Each orphan is proud of the horse, and the bolder ones demonstrate their horse knowledge. The trip is rewarding for both Darcy and Elizabeth. When Elizabeth and Darcy return to Darcy House, the word is given that their children will be arriving this afternoon. Later as the carriage is unloaded and Bennet and David have launched themselves into Darcy’s outstretched arms while Elizabeth cuddles Ester, Darcy pays the escorts Henry employed to safeguard the children. Henry was not jesting when he said the children would be secure. The nanny and nurse quickly and competently set up the nursery to their specific design so Darcy and Elizabeth can spend uninterrupted time with their offspring.
“Papa, I missed you,” Bennet says as he sits on Darcy’s lap. “Mama too.” David nods rapidly.
“Did you boys have a pleasant trip? Did you help with Ester?” Darcy asks with a twinkle in his eyes.
“Yes. Ester was good. We saw lots of things. Horses. Cows. Sheep.” Bennet reports with a serious air.
“Piggys too.” David offers as Elizabeth kisses his cheek and settles him on her lap. Ester is taking a nap, so the rest of the family is in a small salon talking about the trip and relishing the breeze which is blowing through the open windows. Tonight will be a special dinner without guests, but the boys will be dining with their parents. The honor is lost on David, but Bennet seems to understand.
Darcy reaches inside of his pocket where he put two small whittled figures of dogs, one for each boy. Years ago, Darcy’s grandfather taught him to whittle, and the two would sit and talk as they created their pieces. Darcy still whittles as he finds it calms his mind.
“Thank you, Papa,” Bennet says with wide eyes as his dog is presented to him.
“Tanks.” Mimics David who is trying to keep up with Bennet. The barks and growls the two boys make as they play with their dogs is diverting.
“Maybe later, we draw, Papa?” Bennet wants to know. He delights in the rudimentary drawings Darcy does for him, and just like his mother, Bennet keeps them tucked away safely in a book.
“I believe we shall, Son. First, though we should prepare for supper. I will come to escort you to the dining room soon.”
“May I ‘cort Mama into the dining room?” Bennet earnestly pleads.
“You may.” Darcy starts to sort through some mail he received earlier in the day, but he is interrupted by a servant who announces a special courier has arrived with a note. One of Darcy’s ships fell prey to pirates, and the investors would like to hear from Darcy tonight yet about what is to be done regarding the missing cargo. But worse for Darcy is the knowledge that it appears as if the whole crew has been lost. After explaining the situation to Elizabeth and apologizing to his family, Darcy leaves to meet with his partners and Mr. Cullip. The men wish to meet in a private room above one of their favorite pubs.
Thankfully Darcy’s stellar reputation and the assurances of Mr. Cullip put the investors at ease. The meeting quickly veers off course to encompass horse racing, gossip, possib
le future business transactions and other manly topics. Darcy is irritated, but he cannot leave as he feels it would be in bad form, considering that these men stand to lose profits due to the theft of the ship. So he stays later and then he gives orders to his men awaiting him in the carriage to find some supper as it appears to be a long night. Shortly after that order is given, the other men decide to break up for the night and head home. For Darcy, the timing will have deadly consequences. As the rest depart in their carriages, Darcy declines their offers of a ride home, certain his carriage will be along shortly. He notes the emptiness of the street except for two young men who appear to be well into their cups.
The familiar voice Darcy has been trying to place, accosts him once more and very loudly. “You! You miserable bastard! You never suffer, you always end up lucky. You, who have ruined my life, my ability to make a living. You will not escape this time.”
Darcy whirls about to see Mr. Gunther glaring at him with raw hatred in his eyes. Darcy is caught unaware, too wrapped up in the details surrounding his ship. However, at Elizabeth’s insistence, he has taken to carrying his pistol in a more accessible manner. His hand curls around the gun, and he positions it correctly in his pocket as he watches Gunther. The drunken men have silenced as they watch the exchange from a distance.
“You think you are so superior, so moral. Passing judgment on those who you think beneath you. You had no right to become involved in my affairs with others. No right to blacken my name to those who would wish to partner with me in dealings. You prosper while you condemn others to poverty. Well no more. I will rid the world of your scourge once and for all.” Gunther whips his pistol up and aims Darcy, but Darcy is faster. The sound of two shots echo off of the buildings and Gunther crumbles to the walkway. Dead. Gunther’s shot went wild and grazed Darcy’s shoulder slightly. Soon the constable arrives at the scene.
Chapter 9
“You are a fortunate man, Fitz,” Henry tells his cousin once again, but the brooding aspect has only deepened on Darcy’s face.
“How can you say such, Henry? I am forced to remain in my own home, a prisoner, all because I protected myself from certain death. It is not right. Remember when I so arrogantly stated that I would not become a prisoner in my own home?” Darcy turns and paces once more across the study. Each boot heel clomps heavily on the floor as Darcy stomps out his agitation. The shoulder wound he suffered proved to be no more than a deep scratch. The questions from the magistrate were far more troublesome and both Lord Matlock and Lord Marsden, Georgiana’s husband, had to intervene.
“Uncle Matlock and Matthew were able to keep you from spending these days in jail. Anyone else would have been locked up immediately because of the reports from the two drunkards who said you and Gunther were engaged in a duel and you know how the Crown views that activity. England has seen enough bloodshed with France and people are weary of the carnage. Your reputation and your agreement to stay in London and in your home have worked to your advantage.” Henry offers a drink of brandy which is quickly and curtly turned down.
“Meanwhile, my reputation is being torn to shreds, some have started to avoid me while other possible business ventures have stalled. All because some have labeled me a murderer. It is ridiculous!” Henry does not flinch as a small figurine zings across the room and shatters into small shards of glass. He has seen his cousin at his worst over the years, and at this point, Henry cannot blame Darcy for his temper. “Have you found out any new intelligence?” Darcy jams his fingers through his hair.
“As you know, Mr. Wallace, witnessed the actual shooting but he was unable to gain access to you before Gunther did. Mr. Wallace told the magistrate that Gunther threatened you and you responded accordingly, and he is willing to testify on your behalf if needed.”
“I did nothing wrong. It should not come to a trial. There is someone else who is pushing for a trial. For Heaven’s sake, a Bow Street man witnessed the incident and proclaimed me innocent, why should the blighted opinion of two drunks even be considered? Then to have to withstand all the gossip and slights by others. I am incensed!”
“Fitz, I will explain it to you once more. Many people are aware of your dislike for Gunther. They know you blocked some of his deals with other gentlemen,” Henry waves away Darcy’s protests about the questionable deals, “and they know you have repeatedly rebuffed him when he has come to you. It seems as if the prosecution will call into evidence your bloody and soiled clothing from your attack, admit that Gunther directed the attack, and paint your defense of your person as an act of revenge against Gunther. Some people feel as if members of the Gentry never pay for crimes they commit, so you have come under much scrutiny.” Henry says with sympathy.
“Ach, what a load of horse merde.”
“I actually prefer your use of French as opposed to some loathsome American word, Fitz.” Henry laughs at the snarl Darcy presents him. “Seriously, Fitz, I do not believe any more will become of it other than the spectacle of a trial. The authorities can feel as if they have done an admirable and thorough job while the people will be appeased that justice was served once you have been found innocent.”
A few more days pass, and Elizabeth watches her normally jovial spouse become more withdrawn and taciturn. He has warned all of his friends to avoid him until this shame blows over, but Bingley, Jonesy, and Henry ignore his request. Elizabeth encourages him to spend time with the children which he does, but it is obvious Darcy is distracted. There are book readings and some guarded laughter, but the boys sense that something is amiss with their beloved father. Another conversation with Henry threatens to undo the fragile strings holding Darcy together. Elizabeth escorts Henry into the study once more, and she stays to hear what the latest news is. However, Henry is very angry and upset with Darcy, and he unleashes a verbal harangue in front of Elizabeth.
“Dammit, Fitz! You have really done it this time. Mr. Wallace reports that you will endure a trial and what’s more, there is a very good likelihood that you will not be found innocent.”
“Come now, Henry, what’s this? Just a few days ago, you were in this very study assuring me that I had nothing more to fear than a large inconvenience.” Darcy glares at his cousin as Henry paces once about the room then Henry stops before Darcy and glares right back.
“Do you know who is coming to testify at your trial, Fitz? None other than George Wickham himself. The very man who has made known to anyone who would listen that you acted out of malice and spite to impoverish him and to prevent him from having a living. Now I am well aware that you know all of that moldy history about our friend but let me tell you what else old George has been up to since you so magnanimously forgave him out in that pasture some three years ago.”
Elizabeth interrupts, “Henry, there is no need for so much sarcasm, Fitzwilliam has enough to worry him without you adding to his concerns.”
“No Elizabeth, Fitz is going to hear just what his grand and glorious gesture has produced. Old Georgie served in the 52nd Regiment of Oxfordshire Light Infantry under Sir John Colbourne which formed part of the Light Brigade. George was at Waterloo when the 52nd confronted a large part of Napoleon’s Imperial Guard. The 52nd was there to prevent the Imperial Guard from breaking the British line, and once they noted that the Imperial Guard was making moves forward, the 52nd flanked the Imperial Guard, fired quite the volley then charged straight at them, confusing and scattering the French column along the road to Charleroi. Although The Iron Duke, Arthur Wellington, has not openly credited the maneuver for our success at Waterloo, let me tell you, the charge made the difference. George was there, acted honorably and those higher up in command noted his actions. He suffered an injury from flying debris due to Lieutenant General Henry Shrapnel’s new invention, but he overcame the injury and saved other soldiers during the fight. The man is a bona fide war hero.”
“So what is that to me? It would seem as if my forgiveness of the man is fortuitous. I fail to see what you are so furious about.” Da
rcy spat back.
“You pompous fool, this man is coming back to testify for the prosecution. He has his story of how you sought revenge upon him after your father died because you were jealous of the fondness your father purportedly had for him. He will tell that same tired tale and paint you as vengeful and spiteful. Someone who would take out his fury on a man like Gunther. Your behavior after your father’s death was nothing short of prideful and disdainful because you would not allow anyone to know the real person you are. You should have had Wickham hung or run out of the country that day when he accosted Elizabeth, but no, instead you acted like some sort of god who can pass judgment on others. You condemned yourself three years ago, but you were too pompous and arrogant to know it!”
“I will not stand by and have you insult me and my integrity especially in front of my wife. I did what I felt was necessary back then. You have no right to call my decision that day. You were not present.” Darcy hissed through clenched teeth. “How dare you suggest that I acted in some sort of vainglorious manner? You have overstepped your bounds, Henry. Leave!” Elizabeth shrinks back as she marks Darcy’s hands fisted at his sides and an icy cold in his blue eyes which she never before beheld. Henry regards his cousin warily and notes the challenging lift to Darcy’s head. It will be mere seconds before Darcy reacts physically, his painful ribs forgotten.
“Remember this, Darcy. George Wickham will not be as forgiving as you.” A quick pivot on his heels and Henry is out of the door and closes it behind him as another figurine meets its end on the door. Darcy does not address Elizabeth as he storms out of the study through another doorway. Elizabeth starts to sob as a heavy darkness comes upon her. Everything appears to be spiraling out of control.
Chapter 10
Another two days pass and Elizabeth along with the children see very little of Darcy. He has withdrawn completely, refuses meals and leaves his work unattended. The staff is hushed and tense as the Master broods alone. Darcy is watching out of the forward facing windows in his library as people pass by the townhouse. Some sneak a quick glance while others stare openly. A few bold ones point and talk loudly. The gossip has reached Darcy’s ears that he is called a murderer, and many cannot wait to view the trial at Old Bailey when the decorated George Wickham comes to speak about his long association with Darcy of Pemberley. Darcy is further agitated by the comments regarding how a fine woman such as Mrs. Darcy could have married so poorly. Darcy’s old pride rears its head as he recalls how it was he who elevated Elizabeth from her poor connections, now the irony is that the ton views Elizabeth as superior to him.