The second mr darcy, p.12
The Second Mr. Darcy, page 12
“I am not at all certain that we can. Nonetheless, I would like to speak with the reprobate. Do you, perchance, know where he is staying in Lambton?”
“I heard that he was settled at The Dove, but there is no reason to believe that he is still in town now.”
“He is,” Richard said cynically. “The man could never keep two coins to rub together, and if he knew of this bequest, he will certainly not leave the area.”
“For that matter, even if he did not know that he was to inherit Timbreline, he doubtless hoped for some mark of affection from my brother in his will.”
“True,” Richard mused, and he turned his attention on the outdoors. The rain of the morning had been swept away, and now the skies were a bleached blue, interrupted by the occasional cloud.
“Shall we visit our old friend, Darcy?”
/
Anne Darcy’s Sitting Room
Elizabeth glanced briefly around Mrs. Darcy’s sitting room as she was led within. The furniture was all out of date, overflowing with assorted cushions in a variety of colors, blankets draped over the backs and arms of the chairs and couches. A large fire had been built and then banked, every window thrown open to admit a fresh breeze that wafted the lighter curtains beneath the heavy drapes.
Anne Darcy herself was half-reclined across a couch, looking wan and pallid in a heavy black mourning day dress. Her face was drawn with weariness, shadows painted dark under her eyes, and she clutched a crumpled handkerchief in one hand.
“Mrs. Darcy?” Elizabeth asked politely.
“Miss Bennet,” the woman replied, looking up at her guest. Mrs. Darcy did not exactly smile, but she did look pleased to see Elizabeth, which was reassuring.
“I hope you do not mind if I stay seated,” the lady continued, and Elizabeth quickly said, “Of course not, Madam. Please, may I express my heartfelt condolences on the loss of your husband?”
“Thank you,” Mrs. Darcy replied, and she gestured to the seat across from her with her left hand. “Will you not sit down?”
Elizabeth did so, taking the seat near her hostess. She observed, to her surprise, that Mrs. Darcy’s right arm was bound up in a black sling.
“Bring us tea, Matilda,” Mrs. Darcy said, and the maid nodded and retreated.
The door swung shut behind her, leaving Anne and Elizabeth alone.
“Miss Bennet,” Anne said, “I do apologize for not greeting you when you arrived yesterday.”
“On the contrary, I confess to feeling uneasy about coming here without a specific invitation from you, the mistress of the estate.”
“Nonsense. You came as a friend to my young cousin, and I am certain Georgiana needs someone to bear her company during this difficult time. Moreover, I am no longer mistress of the estate. My brother-in-law Fitzwilliam may be heir, or the child I carry may inherit, but I am merely the widow of the former master and possibly the mother of the new one.”
“I am sorry.”
“I will be well enough. I own my own estate, you know.”
“I did not know that.”
“Yes. Rosings passed legally to me upon my marriage to Lawrence, though of course he, as my husband, had power over the income. My mother has ruled there during my marriage because both she and Lawrence wanted me here at Pemberley, but legally, I can force Lady Catherine to move to the Dower House whenever I wish.”
“I was not aware of that, though I know a little about Rosings. By a startling coincidence, the heir to my father’s estate of Longbourn is a parson named Mr. Collins, who serves as rector at Hunsford. Georgiana tells me that Hunsford is under the purview of your mother, Lady Catherine de Bourgh.”
Mrs. Darcy looked startled, and then she smirked. “What kind of man is Mr. Collins?”
“I have never met my cousin, as he arrived for a visit at Longbourn shortly after I departed with Mr. and Miss Darcy for Derbyshire. My father and eldest sister have written to say that he is a very civil man who venerates your mother.”
This provoked a genuine crow of laughter from Mrs. Darcy, who, after her mirth subsided, said, “I am certain he does. My mother would not choose a clergyman who did not regard her with the greatest of awe and reverence. Lady Catherine is the sort of woman who wishes for the distinction of rank to be very well preserved.”
“I gathered that from the letters my family sent.”
The door opened and Matilda entered with tea, which she placed on a small table between the two ladies. Mrs. Darcy made an abortive movement with her right hand, and then winced in pain, which provoked Elizabeth to ask, “May I pour, Mrs. Darcy?”
“Yes, thank you. That would be very kind.”
Elizabeth prepared a cup of tea for the widow and passed it to her carefully, ensuring that the woman had a careful grip with her left hand before releasing the mug.
“Did you hurt your arm, Madam?”
“Yes,” the lady responded, taking a sip of tea and carefully setting it down on the end table at her left. “My child is due in a few weeks, and I have grown increasingly ungainly and clumsy. I fell and hurt my arm a few days ago.”
“I hope it is not broken?”
“Doctor Graham says no, thankfully. It is merely seriously bruised, with a mild sprain. I keep it in the sling to remind myself not to use it, but it is not always successful!”
Elizabeth smiled and took a sip of her own tea, and then, casting around for something to say, remarked, “Pemberley is a lovely place, Mrs. Darcy. I very much admired the park as we drove through it, and of course the mansion itself is magnificent.”
“It is, yes,” her hostess agreed, looking around thoughtfully. “Undoubtedly, my husband will have left numerous debts, but Fitzwilliam is intelligent and honorable, and he will competently deal with the disaster that Lawrence left us.”
Elizabeth could not hide her surprise at this statement, and Mrs. Darcy sighed and said, “My apologies, that was brusque. The truth is that Lawrence and I were united entirely in a marriage of convenience, and he was both a bad husband and a bad master of Pemberley. If I had not wished…”
She stopped, shook her head, and closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again, her eyelids were drooping with weariness. “I apologize, but I am very tired and need to rest.”
“Of course, Madame!” Elizabeth exclaimed, standing up. “Might I call your maid?”
“Yes, thank you, that would be very kind.”
Chapter 17
The Dove Inn
Lambton
“Does Mr. Wickham have any companions staying in the inn with him?” Darcy asked the servant girl leading them down a corridor.
“No, sir. The other gentlemen in his party left for London yesterday,” the girl answered, coming to halt in front of a door. She tapped gently on the wood and called out, “Visitors for you, Mr. Wickham!”
The door opened a minute later, and George Wickham, medium height, with dark blond hair, blue eyes, and a handsome countenance, dressed casually in buckskin breeches and a tan shirt, looked out with a smile, which quickly transformed into a look of amazement.
“Darcy! Fitzwilliam!” he exclaimed, “This is quite a surprise.”
“I am certain it is,” Darcy answered coldly. “We have a matter of importance to discuss. Otherwise, we would not be here.”
Wickham’s eyes lit up noticeably, and he grinned and opened the door further. “Please, do enter my humble abode. Sally, might you bring us some brandy?”
“I have no interest in drinking with you,” Darcy said.
“Ah, but I am hopeful that I will soon have reason to celebrate,” the other man responded insouciantly. “Run along, my dear!”
The servant girl giggled and tossed her white capped head. “As you wish, sir!”
She disappeared, and Wickham shut the door behind her, then turned to gaze at his two guests, who were standing in the room, looking around.
It was impersonal but cozy. There were no indications of its inhabitant’s taste and touch, and it was furnished in sturdy elegant wood with sensible brown upholstery. A door stood open through which could be glimpsed a bed, the sheets and wool blanket neatly made up. There was no dust on the mantle or the windowsill, the curtains were clean and fresh, the wooden floor swept and polished until it shone and the window-glass spotless. A tree swayed on the other side of the panes, and the main road of Lambton could be seen through its branches.
“Shall we sit down?” Wickham inquired. “I will not pretend that the chairs are particularly comfortable, but the fire is pleasant on a cold day.”
Darcy felt like refusing to sit, just to make a point, but that might, perhaps, be overly aggressive.
“Thank you,” he grated out, and sat down on a hard settee near the fire. Richard, who had thus far been silent, took a seat next to him, while Wickham settled on a chair and regarded them with unconcealed enthusiasm.
“I know that neither of you particularly likes me,” he remarked. “Therefore, I can only hope that your visit means that Lawrence – may he rest in peace – was generous enough to bestow something to me in his will.”
Darcy’s lips tightened, and he asked, “You are expecting something, then?”
“Well, yes, I am,” Wickham said with a rueful smile. “Your brother was a loyal companion, and he assured me that I would be well taken care of after his death, not, of course, that we had any idea that he would meet his Maker so soon!”
“No, it was quite a surprise,” Richard said drily.
“You have inherited Timbreline,” Darcy said bluntly, watching Wickham closely.
The man stared and then beamed, displaying gleaming white teeth. “Well, thank God for that! Lawrence told me that he intended to give me Timbreline, but with the child on the way, I was not entirely certain whether he might change his mind on the matter.”
“So he told you that he intended to give you the estate?” Richard demanded, leaning forward to glare suspiciously.
“Yes, he did,” Wickham replied and then wrinkled his brow. “Why should he not? I did give up the Kympton living, you know.”
Richard shot a glance at Darcy, who said, “My father intended Wickham for the church and set aside a valuable living if Wickham chose to take orders. He did not, and thus could not become a clergyman.”
“Ah, but I agreed to give up the living in return for Lawrence’s assurance that I would be well cared for both during his life and after death.”
“Yes, and he has done so, very thoroughly,” Richard commented. “Timbreline brings in a full two thousand pounds a year.”
George laughed aloud, his eyes dancing, and he said, “Yes, to think that I am now master of an estate, and one even greater than yours, Darcy! That is, of course, assuming that Mrs. Darcy bears a son to inherit Pemberley. I certainly hope she does, though I daresay that you are praying daily that Lawrence sired a daughter.”
Darcy briefly considered the peculiarity of this statement; the child was already either a male or a female, and no prayer would change that.
“My prayer is that the child is born healthy and Mrs. Darcy comes through unscathed as well,” he declared, standing up. “In any case, Mr. Harris, the family solicitor, is currently staying at Pemberley, and he would be pleased to call upon you at your convenience to discuss any details of the estate. He has already sent word to the butler and housekeeper at Timbreline that you are now master.”
“Such beautiful news,” Wickham responded, just as the door opened to reveal the maid Sally, who was standing with a tray in her hands, on which reposed a bottle of amber liquid and three glasses. “Will you not drink to my good fortune, both of you?”
“We will not,” the colonel said concisely.
“Are you quite certain?” Wickham asked, casting a winsome look toward his guests. “Regardless of who inherits Pemberley, I daresay we will find ourselves needing to discuss matters regarding the border between Timbreline and Pemberley. If Mrs. Darcy bears a son, it will be many years before the child can take control of his estate, and I presume you are the child’s guardian, Darcy.”
Given that Darcy was the eldest male of his family, this was not an unreasonable assumption, but Darcy was in no mood to discuss the matter with his brother’s dissolute friend.
“We have business elsewhere,” he said curtly, turning to walk toward the door.
“Until we meet again, then,” Wickham replied cheerfully.
/
“So he obviously knew about the bequest,” Richard remarked as he and Darcy rode back toward Pemberley.
Darcy pulled his scarf over his mouth, the better to protect himself from the now biting wind, and said, “Yes, he did. In a way, that makes me think he had no hand in my brother’s death. Surely if he had pushed Lawrence down the stairs, he would have acted more surprised to learn of his lavish inheritance?”
Richard sighed. “Perhaps.”
The two gentlemen entered the lane near the old lodge, and Darcy said, “I must send someone to inspect the lodge to see whether it is habitable.”
Richard nodded absently and remarked, “I see a carriage up ahead, one I do not recognize.”
The two men tapped their heels on their horses’ flanks, causing both geldings to increase their speed. Within a minute, the two men had drawn up close enough to recognize the livery of the leaders, whereupon they joined in a communal sigh.
“Lady Catherine,” Richard stated.
“Indeed,” said his cousin.
/
Drawing Room
Pemberley
An Hour Later
“You need not to be alarmed, Georgiana,” Darcy said. “Lady Catherine will not bite you.”
“I know, but she will doubtless harangue me about practicing on the pianoforte.”
“I promise you that I will protect you,” Elizabeth declared affectionately.
At this moment, the door to the drawing room swung open, and a tall, gray-haired woman, dressed ostentatiously in black silk, with a black turban on her head, marched into the room.
Georgiana took a small step backwards at the arrival of her formidable aunt, and Elizabeth took a step forward and slightly in front of her young friend.
Lady Catherine looked around quickly before turning a gimlet eye on Elizabeth.
“Who is this, Darcy?” she demanded.
“Lady Catherine,” Darcy replied with rigid courtesy, “may I introduce you to Miss Elizabeth Bennet, a friend who kindly accompanied us to Pemberley to keep Georgiana company during this difficult time. Miss Bennet, my aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh.”
Elizabeth curtsied appropriately, and was amused, rather than offended, when the lady looked down her narrow nose and said, “Miss Bennet? You are companion to my niece? You seem rather young to be a companion.”
“I am a friend, your ladyship, not a paid companion. My father is master of an estate in Hertfordshire, and I met Mr. and Miss Darcy some weeks ago while they were staying with Mr. Bingley of Netherfield Hall. They were kind enough to invite me to come north with them.”
“I see,” the lady responded, and she turned her attention on her niece. “Georgiana, my dear, do come forward and let me look at you. I have not seen you in years. You have grown a great deal!”
“Yes, Lady Catherine,” Georgiana agreed meekly.
“You are, I fear, rather too tall, but that cannot be helped now, I suppose.”
Elizabeth blinked at this remarkable statement, and Georgiana’s eyes shifted downward. “I think perhaps I am finished growing,” she said softly.
“It is a great pity that no one thought to put a brick on your head a few years ago, Georgiana,” Elizabeth said in an amused tone, which had the desired effect of drawing Lady Catherine’s attention instantly.
“Surely that is Miss Darcy to you, Miss Bennet?” the woman demanded indignantly.
“On the contrary, Georgiana and I have been good friends for some time now, and call one another by our Christian names,” she responded cheerfully.
Lady Catherine opened her mouth to express her displeasure, but at this moment, the butler came in and announced dinner. The older woman reached out to take Darcy’s arm, and marched out of the room, leaving Richard to escort Elizabeth and Georgiana into the dining room.
/
The second dining room, where the family had been taking their meals of late, was small and shabby, the furniture unfashionable, the tablecloth thin and worn, the drapes faded and in desperate need of replacing. Richard, Georgiana and Elizabeth did not bat an eye, well-used to the room, but Lady Catherine looked around in unconcealed indignation, affronted. “Darcy! Why are we eating here? This is hardly appropriate for people of our station. Why are we not eating in the main dining room?”
“It is more convenient to the kitchen,” Darcy answered, meeting his aunt's gaze calmly. “Did you know Lawrence left Pemberley insolvent and rarely replaced any of the servants who retired or left? I am certain that you understand the need to return the estate to profitability.”
Lady Catherine sniffed. “Lawrence was always a foolish, dissolute man. It does not surprise me to hear he ran Pemberley into the ground,” she said caustically. She allowed Darcy to lead her to the table, casting a fulminating look over the sparse dishes spread there. “I suppose that is also why this dinner is barely fit for a peasant?” she asked with withering scorn.
“It is perhaps not what Pemberley usually serves, but we find it quite adequate,” Darcy said evenly.
The conversation continued in much the same vein, Lady Catherine leveling discontented criticisms at all that caught her attention, and Darcy returning calm, unruffled answers to all of it. Elizabeth worked her way through her meal in silence, listening with dancing eyes and a faint smile.
“Miss Bennet,” Lady Catherine said, turning her attention on the young woman at her side, “pray, tell me about your family. I assume that since you are on a Christian name basis with my niece, your father is a gentleman?”
