Men of Consequence

by Francine Rainey

  “Yes, I will, Miss Darcy. I will likely be called to train new recruits, something I look forward to doing.”

  “Do you enjoy being a soldier, sir?” Elizabeth asked.

  Saye paused, “There are parts. Though I abhor war, I do value serving King and country and defending our homeland, Miss Bennet. I am also not perfectly suited for drawing rooms. I need the rough and tumble of the action and the traveling to new lands.”

  “So, you would not desire to settle down with a wife and family?” Georgiana asked, and Elizabeth’s eyes widened at Georgiana’s boldness.

  “I would not say that, Miss Darcy. With the right incentive a man might be induced to happily do just that,” he said with a long look at Elizabeth who felt her face heat up and quickly moved to steer the conversation in another direction.

  “I dearly love to travel and look forward to seeing the Peak District this summer with my aunt and uncle.” The conversation continued along this vein until Colonel Saye suggested a walk in the fine weather. Agreeable, both ladies donned their outerwear. With people walking to and fro, the sidewalk in front of Bingley’s townhouse only comfortably admitted two persons. Georgiana quickly seized Elizabeth’s arm and peeked over her shoulder at Saye. From behind, Saye smiled dryly. It seems I still have a Darcy in my path.

  Hayden clenched his jaw as he waited for the horse he had haggled for to be saddled. He paced in short bursts in front of the stable as he mentally counted his remaining funds, happy he had heeded his mother’s training to trust few people and had secreted funds in a separate location; it had saved him from having to conduct a bank transaction. Scarcely able to contain himself, he unconsciously stomped like a whinnying horse eager to be set free.

  Finally, the mediocre horse flesh that he had paid too high a price for was brought to him. He slung his bag over the saddle, fed the horse an apple, rubbed its neck, mounted, and coaxed the horse into a canter. When Hayden reached the outskirts of London, he kicked the horse into a gallop, leaned forward and said, “You will pay for this, Cousin. But first, I will kill Darcy and maybe Matlock, too, for good measure. Then I will find you, and you will regret the day you crossed me.”

  Georgiana and Elizabeth sat in the drawing room having just returned from their walk with Saye. Georgiana quickly grabbed her needlepoint and focused. Elizabeth watched. Georgiana trained her eyes upon her stitching and refused to return Elizabeth’s gaze.

  “Georgiana.”

  “Yes.” Insert needle, pull thread.

  “Will you not look at me?” Elizabeth asked with a smile in her voice.

  Georgiana’s shoulders drooped as she lowered her sampler and slowly raised her eyes. She glanced at Elizabeth and quickly down again.

  “Georgiana, was it my imagination, or were you attempting to keep Colonel Saye at bay?” Georgiana twiddled with the sampler.

  “Georgiana?” Elizabeth called again.

  Georgiana huffed and turned away. “If you must know, yes.”

  “But why?”

  “Why?” Georgiana threw up her hands.

  “Yes, why? Has he offended you in some way?” Elizabeth asked.

  Georgiana rose and paced. Elizabeth smiled at the similarity to her brother, and then the dull pain that had become her companion since Francesca’s visit sharpened and pierced her heart anew. Elizabeth sucked in her breath.

  “Well, no, but, but he is here and all smiles and charm, and well, Brother is not! And, oh Elizabeth, I just know Brother would not like it.” Elizabeth leapt from her chair, and Georgiana looked up quickly.

  “You must not worry. I am sure your brother would not be displeased, not at all.”

  Georgiana’s brows squished together. “Elizabeth, how can you say that? I thought you and Fitzwilliam were…”

  “Please, Georgiana, I know what you were about to say, but I am afraid you are mistaken.” Georgiana shook her head and frowned. Elizabeth breathed deeply and tried to blink the tears away.

  “Elizabeth! What is the matter?” Georgiana rushed to her side.

  “Pay me no mind. All is well,” Elizabeth smiled tremulously.

  “It is not well! You must tell me! Do you think my brother inconstant?”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “On the contrary, I think your brother is dutiful, admirably so.” Elizabeth patted her cheeks to erase the lone tear that had escaped. “Which is why I cannot hope,” she whispered.

  “Dutiful?” Georgiana frowned. “Dutiful? Do you mean Cousin Anne?” It had been forwarded by her Aunt Catherine that her brother and her cousin Anne were engaged since their cradles, but that was not true.

  Elizabeth shook her head. “Georgiana, let us discuss this no longer.” But with her hand on her mouth and brow furrowed, Georgiana was no longer attending.

  Looking up suddenly, Georgiana said, “I know you cannot mean, Miss Bingley!” Then inhaling sharply with wide eyes, she said, “Mrs. Waters! She has spoken of her close friendship with Fitzwilliam, and she is the only lady who Fitzwilliam has seen of late. You mean, Mrs. Waters, do you not?” Elizabeth froze, having given away too much already.

  “Oh, Elizabeth,” Georgiana said, then both women turned toward the commotion at the door as Jane and Bingley entered. Elizabeth breathed deeply.

  “Lizzy and Georgiana, there you are. We have stumbled upon an acquaintance who has decided to join us for tea.”

  Elizabeth looked at Georgiana’s worried face. She laid her hand on Georgiana’s arm until she caught her gaze. Elizabeth shook her head slightly, then she turned to her sister and smiled.

  “You remember, Mr. Lancaster, do you not?” Jane asked.

  “Of course, I do. How could I forget the delightful time we shared at his ball?” Elizabeth smiled and curtsied. Lance stepped forward and bent over her hand. “Miss Bennet, it is a delight to see you again.”

  Jane introduced Lance to Georgiana, who bowed and asked about her brother. The group sat, and Lance commandeered the seat beside Elizabeth. Georgiana sat across and watched as Lance’s eyes brightened as he looked Elizabeth. They spoke quietly, and Elizabeth smiled often. Oh no, not another one! Georgiana sized him up. Handsome, not as tall or as charming as the Colonel, but both men carried the aura of confidence, and both men were clearly interested in Elizabeth!

  After Lance departed, the family separated until dinner. At dinner, Elizabeth tried to smile at the right time, but most of the conversation was carried by Jane and Bingley. Afterward, they gathered in the drawing room and listened as Georgiana coaxed a somber melody, reminiscent of their sister Mary, from the piano.

  Elizabeth smiled as Jane approached her. “Are you well, Lizzy?” Jane asked as she sat.

  “I am, Jane, a slight headache is all.”

  “I am sorry, Lizzy; I left you unattended all day! Perhaps you would have benefited from being out of doors.”

  “Do not fret, Jane. Colonel Saye called and walked with Georgie and me in the park.”

  “Really! That is the third time he has called this week. Is there anything you would like to tell me?” Jane smiled.

  Elizabeth shook her head. “Really, Jane, I am convinced that Mama gifted you a matchmaking book for your nuptials.”

  Jane laughed, “You cannot avoid me forever, Lizzy.”

  “When it comes to this topic, I cannot avoid you at all, Jane!”

  By this time, Georgiana had completed her recital to appreciative applause. Elizabeth announced her intention to retire and walked slowly up the stairs. When she reached her room, she closed the door and collapsed upon her bed.

  A short time later, Georgiana entered her chamber, moved to the desk, retrieved pen and paper, and wrote a letter.

  The following day at the Matlock residence the cousins engaged in a game of billiards.

  “What was that, Darcy?” Hardston asked as they walked from the billiards room to the drawing room for tea. “I think I would have had to work harder to beat Georgiana!” he guffawed. Darcy contin
ued to walk ahead, stone faced.

  “I mean, really! I saw you loosen your cravat, and I thought you were about to give me a challenge, but you may as well have untied it and wore it as a blindfold! You do remember the objective of the game, do you not?” Hardston caught up to Darcy and turned to him with a smirk. “The round ball goes into the hole, Darcy!”

  Darcy shook his head good-naturedly, but it was Richard who chimed in. “Leave off, Hardston! You should be happy to finally get a win.”

  “What? Are you implying that Darcy is the superior player?”

  “No, I am implying that everyone is the superior player to you!” Richard quipped.

  “Ah, I see. Still championing our young cousin, are we, brother?” Hardston spoke of their youth when Richard and Darcy would join against the older and then larger Hardston.

  “I need no champion, Hardston, just an opponent worth the effort!” Darcy smiled dryly.

  “Oh, ho, Darcy I am wounded!” Hardston clutched his heart and staggered. “Perhaps, my dear Mother will appreciate my skills!”

  “Boys, so much ruckus!” She shook her head in mock disapproval. “I thought we raised gentlemen! Must I have your father escort you all to the barn?”

  “No!” Hardston and Richard shouted simultaneously.

  Matlock shook his head. “I fear the barn will do no good, dearest. They are what they are; we must live with our disappointment.” Matlock laughed while his sons pretended to be offended.

  Darcy accepted his cup of tea and sat in a wing-backed chair facing the door, his feet tapping rapidly on the floor.

  Matlock watched as Darcy stared into his tea. “I met with my steward for the final time today.” Darcy looked up eagerly. “I believe we can begin our journey on the morrow.”

  Darcy released a loud sigh and then looked up quickly at his uncle, “I beg your pardon.”

  Matlock smiled while Richard and Hardston, who had been apprised of Darcy’s situation laughed, loudly. “Darcy you sounded like…”

  “A Mrs. Waters to see Mr. Darcy.” All eyes turned to the butler and stared.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  The gentle breeze blew the strings of Elizabeth’s bonnet about her face. Elizabeth walked holding Colonel Saye’s arm, the bright sun warming her face. The two walked both in deep thought.

  “I see you are without your faithful companion this morning,” Saye spoke at last.

  Elizabeth smiled, “Yes, Georgiana had a lesson with one of her masters, else she would have enjoyed walking with us.”

  “You seem to have grown quite close to the Darcys and quite fond of Miss Darcy. You were their guest recently, were you not?”

  “Indeed, I was their guest, and, indeed, I have grown quite fond of Georgiana. She is a dear, sweet girl.”

  Saye looked at Elizabeth and grimaced, frustrated that her bonnet concealed her face. “And her brother?”

  Saye sighed as he felt Elizabeth tense. “Miss Bennet, forgive me if I overreach, but I am a man of action. I have lived long enough to know what I desire, and I find you refreshingly original and would like to know you better. If there is an understanding with Darcy, please say.” Elizabeth paused, then shook her head slightly.

  “Very well. I will not ask you for a courtship at this time. I will, however, tell you who I am.” Saye stopped and turned Elizabeth to face him, tipping her chin so that she met his eye. Elizabeth’s breathing quickened as she looked upon his handsome, rugged face and beautiful brown eyes with thick lashes. “I am a man of determination and action. I believe life should be experienced. The weather should not just be discussed in drawing rooms over tea, but the wind should be felt as one races full out across the field. Love should not just be read about in a novel but felt in the arms of a lover.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes widened. Saye chuckled. “I am not suggesting anything improper, Miss Bennet. I am saying that though I have an estate, I will not live a life confined to drawing rooms, reading books and discussing philosophy. I will live in foreign lands, India, Italy. You are the only woman I have ever met who has come close to my level of curiosity and sense of adventure. And,” he ran a finger down her cheek, “you are perfectly lovely,” Saye said softly, and Elizabeth gasped. “I do not promise the life that most women of the ton are bred to expect; however, for the right woman, I have the means to deliver the world.” Saye paused for a moment, his eyes caressing Elizabeth’s face. “I know it may seem quick to you, Miss Bennet, but I know my mind. You may even fancy another.” Elizabeth inhaled sharply, and Saye smiled. “And you do not love me – yet. But,” he ran his finger quickly down her cheek again and whispered, “I think you could.” He pulled away and tucked her hand into his arm. Elizabeth’s released her breath in a huff. “Think on it,” he said.

  Silence reigned as they resumed their walk around the park.

  At the announcement of Mrs. Waters, the occupants in the Matlock drawing room first stilled then turned in shock to look at Darcy. Lady Matlock was the only one cultured enough to keep the shock from causing her mouth to gape. Darcy leapt from his seat and strode toward the door.

  “Darcy!” Darcy did not hear Matlock’s call as he continued his stride.

  As he passed Lady Matlock, she stood and stilled him with a hand to the arm. “Fitzwilliam,” Darcy halted and looked down at the hand upon his arm as if it were a foreign object. “Allow me.” As the lady of the house, she looked kindly but pointedly at him. His stance relaxed a bit, and he nodded. Lady Matlock looked at the butler. “Send her in.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” the butler answered as he backed from the room and closed it.

  Matlock came and stood beside Darcy. “Perhaps we should escort her into my study?” he asked.

  “You most certainly will not.” All eyes turned to Lady Matlock as she spoke with force. “This concerns MY family, and she has come to MY home. I will hear what she says.” Darcy held her determined gaze a moment and then nodded.

  The door opened, and all eyes fixed upon the newcomer. The butler gave his superfluous announcement, and Francesca came forward. The days of relentless travel had required a toll from her but could not destroy her beauty. She stood before them, tall and stately, her wrinkled dress clinging to her lovely figure, her hair having slipped a bit from its hastily arranged chignon. Her beauty – for once showcased in less than perfection – should have been the harbinger of her distress; however, it was her eyes that truly betrayed her, tired, defeated even – and panicked; they constantly fluttered in Darcy’s direction like the wings of a sphinx moth.

  “Mrs. Waters, I am Lady Sarah Fitzwilliam, Countess of Matlock.”

  Francesca dipped a proper bow. “Pleased to meet you.”

  “You know Lord Matlock,” Francesca nodded and curtsied, her face crimsoned. Matlock returned a stiff half bow.

  “And this is my son, Stephen Fitzwilliam, Viscount Hardston,” a proper curtsy and a hasty bow were exchanged.

  “My son Richard you know and of course Darcy.” Francesca had ceased to look up by now and performed one last curtsy in the direction of Darcy and Richard who had come to stand together as they had always done.

  “Please do be seated. Would you care for tea?”

  Francesca’s throat, already parched from travel, now felt as dry as ash. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “Is Alexander with you?” Darcy asked abruptly. Francesca felt her skin tingle as she nodded, all eyes fixed upon her. “I would see him,” Darcy said.

  “Yes, of course. He is with Nurse.”

  Lady Matlock rang the bell for the butler. “Countess, if I may impose. Please excuse me, but I have other servants with me.”

  “Of course,” Lady Matlock gave instructions to the butler.

  “Thank you.” Francesca squirmed and felt bare, exposed, as everyone, watched her – everyone except for Darcy, who refused to look at her at all. Francesca sipped her tea, her eyes flitting about, looking at everything, but registering nothing
. Within minutes, the door opened, and there was a collective gasp as Nurse came forward with Alexander. All eyes were riveted on Alexander, this time it was only Richard, no longer shocked at the similarities, who managed to keep his mouth from gaping.

  Alexander was introduced, and as they examined the lad, they threw surreptitious and incredulous glances at one another. His bright eyes shining and his cheek dimpling when Richard tugged his nose, his curly dark hair and narrow nose, all near replicas of Darcy’s. Alexander performed an adorably wobbly bow that charmed them all, and Darcy bent before him and spoke quietly for a moment while Francesca shifted about in her seat and looked away. With the curiosity complete, Alexander and his nurse left.

  “Whew!” Hardston let out a low whistle. Richard scowled at him. “What?” Hardston shrugged and threw up his hands. Richard shook his head at his brother’s obtuseness and looked at Darcy, who was still staring at the door.

  It was time. Francesca cleared her throat and looked up at Darcy with wide, imploring eyes. “Fitzwilliam, may we speak privately?”

  Lady Matlock cleared her throat and dispensed with propriety. This was not a polite call, and this was not the time to play the society hostess. “Mrs. Waters, what you have to say concerns my family. If there are certain elements you must speak with Darcy privately, then, of course, you must, but you have come to my home. Please explain yourself.”

  Francesca glanced up at Darcy. He was stone faced. She sighed, smoothed a curl behind her ear, “Alexander is not your son,” she blurted out, too loudly, as if her soul needed to purge the lie with the strength of a volcano.

  Lance sat in the drawing room of his family’s townhome thinking of Elizabeth while his sister played, and his parents listened. He had not thought about Elizabeth much since the ball; however, having renewed their acquaintance, he remembered how delightful and refreshing he had found her. It was time he took a wife. Being second generation gentry with roots still in trade, limited his options and Elizabeth’s family had been landowners for centuries. He was certain that being Bingley’s sister, she had some dowry, and with the Darcys as a connection, it could be beneficial to his family. Also, Elizabeth was intelligent. He could envision evenings spent together with his parents in the drawing room, listening to her play piano, reading books, even speaking of estate matters since her father had versed her in it. She was lively and witty, and she could balance his quietness. And she was lovely. His parents held grandiose ideas as it pertained to his future wife; however, he was reasonable, and Elizabeth would do just fine. Better than fine actually, he already liked her, and he was sure he could love her. He knew she did not love him yet either, but he could offer her a comfortable existence, and that mattered. He would have to speak to her soon. His trip to the north to oversee some business aspects was soon to begin, and he would be away some time. A lady as desirable as Elizabeth would not be available forever. He would call soon. That settled, Lance settled back and enjoyed the music.