Mr Darcy Requests the Pleasure

by Elizabeth Aston

“Too much of a handful? You mean she misbehaved. I have told you again and again that you allow that child too much latitude. She must learn to be more obedient and, if she will not behave herself, she should be whipped. I hope she was punished.”

  The room fell into an awkward silence. Elizabeth longed to inform Lady Catherine that no child of hers would ever be whipped.

  “A good whipping and then several days in her room with bread and water. What is it to her whether she likes a governess or not? Miss Trubshaw was here to teach her; it is not for a child to presume to like or not like her governess. That is for her parents to decide. I am displeased, Mr Darcy, and now you have this Miss Beckford, who seems to put herself forward in a most unsuitable way. She will indulge the girls, I am sure of it, and they will fall into even worse ways. If Miss Trubshaw could not stay, then you should have written to me to find some other person.”

  “I suggested Miss Beckford for the position, Lady Catherine,” Octavius said, earning an admiring glance from his wife and Elizabeth for braving Lady Catherine’s wrath.

  “You? And what, pray, do you know of governesses? How came you to be acquainted with Miss Beckford?”

  “I served under her late father, ma’am, as gallant an officer as ever lived.”

  “So her father was an officer in the navy? That is all very well, but I hear all kinds of low persons are appointed to take command of ships these days.

  Elizabeth intervened. “Miss Beckford is highly qualified and I am sure will be prove equal to the task of teaching the girls.”

  “As I said, she puts herself forward in what I consider a most inappropriate fashion. Why does she attend the rehearsals, pray?”

  Elizabeth hoped Octavius would say nothing about Miss Beckford’s playwriting, and a warning look from Sarah did cause him to hold his tongue about the authorship of The Castle of Wolfenstein. Elizabeth said, “She plays the harp as an accompaniment to the scenes, and of course is there with Camilla, who has a small part in the play.”

  “I cannot like it, and had you asked my advice I would have strongly advised you against it.”

  “Against what?” Sarah said. “The musical accompaniment or Camilla acting?”

  “Both, and most of all, I would have told you not to appoint such a young woman to be a governess. She has a bold air to her I cannot like, and she does not seem to know her place.”

  Elizabeth would have protested at this unfair judgement, but she was forestalled by Lady Catherine rising to her feet and announcing that she could not think what had become of Anne. “I shall go and have a word with her maid, she dressed her hair very ill last night.”

  There was a collective sigh of relief as she swept from the room.

  After a moment’s silence, Octavius said thoughtfully. “I suppose she is annoyed that Justin Aconbury shows no inclination to dance attendance upon Anne.”

  “It is as well he does not, she would not do for him at all,” Sarah said.

  “Besides,” said Mr Darcy, “it seems to me that if Justin has a preference for anyone, it is for Miss Beckford.”

  Sarah smiled at him “Oho, so you’ve noticed, have you? It would be an excellent thing for Miss Beckford.”

  “Does she have a liking for him?” Octavius asked

  Elizabeth said, “She is not the kind of person to show her feelings and she is too well-bred to let her eyes linger on him or seek out his company. Yet I have caught a warmth in her expression when she is with him. I would say she is far from indifferent to him.”

  “As long as this news of his fortune does not scupper his chances. She will not want to seem a fortune hunter.”

  “Unlike the beautiful Miss Turlington,” Sarah said wickedly. “Even my aunt has noticed that, although she doesn’t see her as any kind of a rival to Anne. She told me that Miss Turlington is pretty enough, but with neither a large portion nor grand connections, she should not look too high for a husband.”

  “And I fancy Mr Giddings is not indifferent to Olivia,” Mr Darcy said. “What stirrings of romance we do have here at Pemberley.”

  “Is he not a fellow of an Oxford college?” Sarah asked. “I thought they could not marry.”

  “He can resign his fellowship and take a living,” Octavius said.

  “I am quite sure he is not cut out for the life of a parish priest,” Elizabeth said, laughing. “That would not do at all. No, he must be made a Dean, that will suit him and Olivia is just the wife for him.”

  “Two engagements in a wet February, that would be something to remember,” Sarah said.

  “Or none,” her husband put in. “Many a slip, my dear, remember that. It could be happy ever after or heartbreak, who knows?”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Justin Aconbury liked Mr Giddings, whom he found an amusing, worldly and witty companion. Now he added a sense of gratitude to his approval as, just as he was coming out of the library, Mr Giddings said in a low voice, “Perhaps you might prefer to be in another part of the house. I believe that both Lady Catherine and Miss Turlington are looking for you.”

  His quizzical words made Justin raise his eyebrows and laugh out loud. “Am I so obvious? I must say, life at Pemberley has become rather more awkward since the arrival of Lady Catherine. I believe I have urgent business to attend to in the Great Hall.”

  Mr Giddings fell into step beside him. He said, “You have been acquainted with Lady Catherine for some time, I think”

  Mr Aconbury’s voice had a tinge of asperity, “I have known her all my life. She is a particular crony of my mother’s, has always disapproved of me, and yet now is determined that I shall offer for her daughter Anne.”

  “Do not do so, you would not suit.”

  “I know it.”

  “Does she have an affection for you?”

  “Anne? No, she has always disliked me. Of course, that may have been the influence of her mother. Lady Catherine would never for a moment have in the past considered me as a possible husband for Anne. Now, of course, the circumstances are altered.”

  Mr Giddings said, “One must not speak ill of a young lady, but I believe you would find her insipidity tiresome.”

  “I wish Anne well, but she is not at all the kind of woman I should ask to be my wife.”

  “You would do well to find a woman of a livelier temperament and with more intelligence.”

  Justin said, “And someone who cares more for me than for my fortune?”

  Mr Giddings said, “A young woman on the lookout for a husband will always take into consideration his financial situation, that is the way of world. And any man worth his salt wants to offer the woman he loves a better home than he takes her from. You are in a position to do that for a host of young ladies, as you must be aware. What think you of Miss Turlington? She has no eager mama pressing her case, but she has her eye on you, as I dare say you are aware.”

  “Then she would do better not to enact me a Cheltenham tragedy. But even without that display of pique and temper, I no more care for her than I do for Anne.”

  “She is unquestionably a beauty.”

  “And will unquestionably will make the devil of a wife for some unfortunate fellow.”

  Mr Giddings cocked an ear. “I fear that we have come the wrong way; I suspect that Miss Turlington is come along the other passage and we are bound to meet. Although you may just have time to make your escape…” He pointed to a door. “Go through there, and I will take it upon myself to waylay her.”

  Justin went through into a small antechamber and from there ascended a flight of stairs. He hesitated on the first landing and then decided to go on up to the second floor, where he felt sure that Veronica would not venture.

  He was torn between amusement at the relentless pursuit of him by one lady and by the other’s mother. He was sure that Anne, left to herself, would not have expressed any interest in him, but she would always do what her mother told her.

  How tiresome it was. Did any man like to feel he was being pursued? No. An
d it was annoying to think that this behaviour on the part of those ladies might put off the one person he did want to be on close terms, a woman who, for the first time in many years, had touched his heart.

  He had been too sanguine in his hopes of escaping Miss Turlington. She must have heard his voice as he talked to Mr Giddings and then his footsteps on the stairs and put two and two together. There was the neat click, click of her heels she came up the stairs. It was too bad.

  In a moment of wild panic he looked around, saw a door and pulled it open. It was a large cupboard; quite big enough for him to hide in. A second later, he stepped inside and pulled the door to. The footsteps reached the top of the stairs, paused for a moment, and then receded. Was it safe to come out? He heard distant voices; it sounded as though Miss Turlington was going towards the other staircase. Whom was she talking to? Theodosia. Theodosia was there, saying she had not seen Mr Aconbury, she believed him to be downstairs in the Great Hall.

  She had, he supposed, said this with any intention of helping him, but nonetheless he was grateful to her. He reached out to open the door—and discovered he could not do so. It was impossible to open the door from the inside. There was no catch. He had to laugh, it was such a ridiculous situation, and then as he moved over to see if there was anything to help him open the door, he bumped into some object. There was a rattling sound and a crash as it toppled on to the floor. He stepped back, treading on a loose floorboard that emitted a loud creak.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Theodosia, coming along the passage in a reverie, was brought up with a start. It was gloomy there, and her fancy was provoking into the wildest imaginings. The sounds were emanating from behind a closed door. What could be behind it? She was in the older part of the house; not as old as the Great Hall, but there was none of the feeling of modernity that was there in the newer and lighter apartments. Perhaps stone steps leading to some hidden tower, a relic of the former Pemberley? It sounded as though a chain was rattling within, a chain such as a ghost might drag behind its ethereal self, an ancestral spectre.

  A man’s voice called out from the cupboard, “Is someone there? Will you open the door?”

  Theodosia came back into the modern, sensible world. Why was Mr Aconbury behind that door?

  She turned the handle and the door swung open, moving so swiftly that she had jump hastily jumped aside as Justin Aconbury, who had apparently had his weight against the door, tumbled out, only just saving himself from falling by seizing hold of her arm.

  She couldn’t help herself and burst out laughing as he steadied himself and let go of her arm.

  “I am glad you find it comical. I did not care at all for being shut in the cupboard. It is nonsensical that there is no way to open the door from within. I call that a most misguided kind of arrangement.” He brushed plaster dust from the sleeve of his coat. “I trust I have not bruised your arm, grasping hold of it like that?”

  “Not at all. I suppose the cupboard was not designed for people to shut themselves into.”

  She leant down to pick up a metal bucket that had rolled out of the cupboard. Then she began to laugh again.

  “And now what is so funny?”

  “When I heard the noise as I was passing, I fancied there might be a ghost lurking within. Then when you emerged, it became less like one of Mrs Radcliffe’s gothic tales and more like Mr Richardson’s novel, Pamela. You will remember the scene, when Pamela’s master leaps upon her out of a cupboard.”

  “I assure you, any leaping I may have done was unintentional. I am not in the habit of jumping out of cupboards on maids.”

  “I know you are not. I found that scene more ridiculous than moving when I read the novel. Pray forgive me, I did not mean to be frivolous, I dare say it was most uncomfortable to be shut away in the cupboard.”

  “I was not in there for long, and I am grateful to you for rescuing me, I might have shouted for a good half hour before anyone heard me.”

  “No, you would have been impatient and broken the door open before then. It was fortunate that I came by, thus sparing you the discomfort of explaining to Mr Darcy why you were breaking up his doors.”

  He helped her put back the things that had fallen out of the cupboard and closed the door. “Why came you this way? It seems a little used part of the house.”

  “I could ask the same of you. For me, it is the quickest way to the schoolroom. Why were you locked in the cupboard, were you looking for something?”

  “You know very well I was not. Why should I want a bucket or any of those things in there? No, I hid in the cupboard to avoid someone.”

  “I met Miss Turlington. She asked if I had seen you, and I told her that I thought you were going to the Great Hall.”

  “What gave you that idea?”

  “I had no idea where you might be, but the Great Hall is quite a distance from here and I had a notion you might not want to speak to her just now. Of course, you could have been anywhere; I had no idea that you were up here scurrying around and jumping into cupboards.”

  He said no more on the subject, but went with her as she set off along the passage.

  “If you want the main staircase, Mr Aconbury,” she said, “you need to go in the other direction.”

  “I should like to come to the schoolroom if you have no objection. I want to talk to Camilla, will she be there?”

  “The girls are presently with Mrs Darcy. They will be up to their lessons directly.”

  He stepped into the room behind her. “I have to say this is a much more agreeable apartment than the schoolroom at Aconbury House.” He perched on the table and watched Theodosia while she selected some books from a shelf and laid them on the table. She was quick and deft in her movements and did everything with a decisiveness he found oddly pleasing.

  Setting the globe to one side she twirled it and pointed at India. “You must tell Letty and Camilla more about your time in India. They would be enchanted to hear it.”

  He looked at her, suddenly serious, and said, “Would you like to hear of my life in India, Miss Beckford?”

  Theodosia coloured slightly. She replied, “Oh, yes indeed. I used to love hearing my father talk of all the places that he had visited. My mother made some voyages with him when they were first married, but after I was born she did not care to do that.”

  Perceptively, Justin noticed the cloud that had come momentarily over her face and said, “Did I say something to distress you?”

  Miss Beckford began to polish one of the slates. “I still miss my father.”

  “Have you no brothers and sisters?”

  She shook her head.

  He said ruefully, “I have a pack of them, and I assure you it does not necessarily make life any easier to be one of a large family.”

  “I always wished to have a brother. Not only is a playmate and companion, but because my mother regretted that I wasn’t a son.”

  “By the time I came into this world, my mother had had enough of a numerous progeny and took little interest in me, so I was in something of the same case.”

  “You could go out into the world and make your way and leave your family behind. It is more difficult for a woman to do that.” She looked again at the globe. “India is so far away. It is almost impossible to think of travelling there, an arduous journey at best, and yet you must have done so when a very young man. I know of others who made the voyage of course. A neighbour of ours went out to join the East India Company. He succumbed to a fever within months.”

  “That was the lot of all too many. Young men are still eager to go to India, for if you survive, a life in the Company can be a good one and often a profitable one.”

  “As it was for you. I assume that is how you made your fortune.”

  “Are you interested in my fortune?”

  Theodosia met his eyes. She had hazel eyes and he thought how lovely they were, although their expression at the moment was not warm.

  “Not in itself, but I am intrigued
by how you went away an impoverished younger son back such an extremely rich man. Some people have the Midas touch, but I believe that to become a true nabob normally takes years. You seem to have accomplished it in a comparatively short time.”

  “Have you heard of the Thugee?”

  She was surprised by the question. “I believe I have… Are they not a gang of criminals of a most unsavoury kind, who attack people as much from sheer brutality as for profit?”

  “That is exactly what they do. They strangle people swiftly and efficiently and claim that their murders are sacrifice to Kali, an Indian goddess. By chance, I came across a Thugee ambush of a group of merchants, and there was a man travelling with them, whom I recognised. I managed to fight off the fellow attacking him—they cannot have realised he was an Englishman, for we were not usually among their chosen victims—and drag the man to safety.”

  Her eyes were now alive with interest. “That was brave of you.”

  “I did no more than any man would have done in that situation. Mr Gustave Smythe, the man caught up in the ambush, was one of the nabobs of whom you speak. He had been in India for many years, enough to know how to avoid those ruffians and he said it would have been a terrible way to end his life, with one of their nooses round his neck.”

  “I should think so indeed.”

  “He was grateful to me and insisted on putting me in the way of doing business, perfectly honest and honourable business, I may say, that allowed me to make a considerable amount of profit. I was lucky, and with his guidance I invested what I had and so my fortune was doubled and redoubled. One final piece of advice from him increased my wealth still further; that was when I knew I had become, against all the odds, an extremely rich man. So, provided that this country does not lose the war with France, I should never have any financial worries again. For a man who started with nothing more than the blessing of a family anxious to be rid of me, I find it gives me some degree of comfort.”

  Theodosia said, “I should think it gives you a considerable degree of comfort.”