An Unwavering Trust

by L. L. Diamond

  “Her mother’s bragging of Sir Gabriel’s heir has not ceased since the child’s birth. I planned on calling out of courtesy, but I thought Lizzy might find the experience enlightening.”

  His wife’s free hand moved to cover the swell. “You thought I might need lessons on how not to be a mother, then?”

  He chuckled and bestowed a tender kiss to her temple. “I am sure that is not what Grandmamma intended.”

  Her condition ceased to be a source of worry for her not long after they arrived, and the quickening had awakened something protective within her. Since that time he had happened upon her speaking or singing to the babe in her womb when she thought she was alone.

  “No, I just wanted you to be aware of the Ton’s expectations of care for their children. What you do is your choice. Neither I nor Elinor adhered to what society expected. My daughter Anne did not either.”

  “I remember sitting on the floor before the fire in my mother’s study as I played with my soldiers,” reminisced Richard. “She often took us for walks herself, and when father would not be home for dinner, she took her meals in the nursery.”

  “My mother did much the same.” Remembrances of his mother never failed to cause a tremor in his voice; he cleared his throat. “I do not have many memories of her study, though. She did much of her work whilst I was with the governess or my tutors. I do remember she had a cradle for Georgiana that was moved from room to room with her. I had a nursemaid, but I do not think her duties were too taxing.”

  His grandmother smiled lovingly as Darcy spoke of his mother. “As Georgie became older, the nurse would keep her occupied so your mother could finish her duties. I also recall Georgie playing on the floor much in the same manner as Richard did, but the nurse was nearby so she was always minded well.”

  “Did you have a nurse when you were young, Lizzy?” asked Richard.

  She crinkled her forehead as she caught the corner of her bottom lip in her teeth. “I do not remember one being at Longbourn. Funds were always too tight for such an expenditure.”

  The dowager tilted her head and appraised Elizabeth. “Your mother must have been in great demand with five girls born in six or seven years.”

  “Hill, our housekeeper, was there to help, and when I was a bit older, I was often with father in his library while Jane helped Mama with Mary, Kitty, and Lydia; however, Mama changed when Lydia was born, and did not hold her and Kitty to the same standard she did Jane, Mary or I.”

  Richard looked perplexed. “Why was that?”

  “I know Mama was told she would not have any more children after Lydia, and with no heir, nothing was ever the same. She insisted Jane and I were out at fifteen. We were to find suitors so we would wed and not be a burden when Papa passed.”

  “Your mother feared for your future,” he observed.

  “And hers as well.” Elizabeth’s voice was soft as she faced him.

  “Excuse me, ma’am,” came Hobbes’ voice from the door. “The carriage has pulled to the front when you are ready.”

  The ride to their destination was swift, yet they remained in the long queue until their carriage pulled to the front of the theatre where both Darcy and Richard stepped out. As they straightened their topcoats and waited for the ladies, Richard motioned behind them where a beggar leaned against a wall near the entrance. As usual, women milled about the entrance selling fruit and programs, but this man had no occupation other than to stand and watch the quality enter the building.

  “I am surprised they have not had him hauled away.” Darcy shook his head in disgust and pivoted back to wait for the ladies.

  The two men kept a watchful eye on the vagrant until Elizabeth and his grandmother were ready to alight. Darcy was ill at ease with the man’s presence, and wished he would not loiter so close to the entrance. The beggar must have been doing well for himself if he remained.

  Once they were all on the pavement, they strolled towards the theatre doors. Elizabeth’s hand rested on Darcy’s arm, and he covered it with his own. The shimmer from the lights of the busy theatre in her eyes, the glistening highlights in her hair, the softness of her soft skin under his fingers—everything but Elizabeth disappeared around him. She occupied his every thought and his every attention until reality reappeared in the most unexpected and disturbing of happenings.

  Elizabeth’s expression became bewildered and her grip upon him was fierce. His arm smarted where she dug her fingers into his sleeve and his shoulder throbbed as she clung to him. She was being pulled from his protection! Elizabeth’s head pivoted in the direction she was being drawn, and she cried out, her eyes returning to him, wild and terrified.

  When his field of vision widened, he repositioned himself to clutch her in his embrace in an attempt to dislodge the filthy beggar who had latched onto her other arm. Did Elizabeth’s alarmed expression mean she recognised the man, or was she startled by his haggard appearance? Darcy had yet to free her from the grip of the intruder, who muttered and swore boisterously as he wrenched her towards him.

  The topic of the man’s ranting was not discernible; therefore, he tightened his arms around his beloved wife’s body as he bellowed out Richard’s name, his heart pounding so hard it was painful.

  When his cousin did not appear straight away, he roared Richard’s name a second time. An eternity passed before his cousin responded, and when the colonel appeared and strode towards the assailant, the unbearable pain in his chest began to subside.

  One of Richard’s hands went to the beggar’s throat, while the other grasped his wrist, digging the tips of his fingers into the man’s exposed flesh until he released his prey.

  Without a backward glance, Darcy rushed Elizabeth into the theatre where his grandmother stood just inside the door.

  “Go help your cousin,” ordered the dowager as she took Elizabeth by her forearms. He followed for a moment as she brought his wife to a corner and began to speak to her in hushed tones.

  His voice cracked. “Elizabeth?”

  She shook all over but attempted a smile. “Go help Colonel Fitzwilliam. I shall be fine with Grandmamma.”

  A curious crowd had begun to gather, and he hesitated before he rushed back outside the entrance where he found Richard restraining the beggar against the wall by his neck.

  When his cousin saw him, he motioned him closer. “Guess who we have here!”

  A long look at the man did not reveal anything familiar about him. Where would he have ever met him?

  “Go on, tell him your name.” The hardened soldier’s voice his cousin employed was downright terrifying; he was thankful Richard always took his part.

  “Tell him,” he growled.

  “Ed… Edward… Gardiner.”

  Darcy’s eyes bulged, but the man did not seem to notice his shock.

  “You will get me killed with this spectacle,” hissed Gardiner.

  “You created this scene. Why could you not leave Elizabeth alone?” Darcy’s sudden fury prompted him to clench his fists in order to refrain from pummelling the pathetic man before him. How dare he intrude upon Elizabeth’s comfort and security!

  Gardiner grimaced as he manoeuvred a bit of space for his neck in order to breathe. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he gulped. “Lizzy and Philips made a fool of me, so when I recognised her, I wanted to frighten her. She has put me into hiding for the last few months, fearing for my life. I figured she should feel the same fright for hers.”

  “Your situation is no one’s fault but your own, sir.” His palms itched to take the position of his cousin, to convince this man to never touch his wife again, but Richard would never allow it.

  “She would have freed me!”

  Richard clamped down on Gardiner’s throat until he choked and heaved. His cousin spoke in low tones. “Now is not the time, Darcy. You do not want this aired to all of society.”

  Sure enough, people were watching the display rather than entering the theatre. “Richard, can you take him to Ashcroft and lock h
im in the attic?”

  His cousin’s eyes bulged. “What would possess you to help this bag of rubbish?”

  Darcy pivoted to Gardiner and leaned in so the nosy crowd could not hear. “If you will accept, I shall pay for your passage to the Canadas with two hundred pounds.”

  The haggard man stared with his mouth agape. “Why would you do this?”

  “Elizabeth has little family left, and I know that despite your actions, your death would pain her. I am of the opinion that whilst you remain in England, you are a threat to her. By sending you where Grayson cannot find you, I ensure Elizabeth never feels guilt for your death whilst at the same time I ensure her safety. It is a worthy investment, if you ask me.”

  Richard was not pleased with his cousin’s proposal to the piece of filth, but nodded to indicate he understood Darcy’s reasoning.

  “Will you accept my offer?”

  Gardiner studied Darcy’s eyes before he gave a rough bob of his head. “I may as well. I have nothing to lose.”

  “You are too soft, cousin,” muttered Richard.

  Society would invent a multitude of gossip if they departed directly after the attack. Elizabeth needed to be well enough to attend the performance regardless of the circumstances. “I may be, but Elizabeth, Grandmamma, and I must remain for the play. Can I trust you to take him to Ashcroft House?”

  “Of course, but I must remove him now.”

  Darcy peered behind them to see the carriage had not moved since they arrived, and both the driver and footmen stood near the equipage, staring. He and his cousin bustled Gardiner to the carriage and shoved him inside while Darcy stepped close enough to the driver so he could hear as he spoke to him in low tones. “Take them to Ashcroft house and then return for us.”

  The driver seemed bewildered about the goings on but obeyed without question.

  When Darcy returned to where he had left Elizabeth, neither she nor his grandmother remained, but a glance about the room revealed that she was in the company of his grandmother near the stairs. As he drew closer, his grandmother gave him a small nod and both his shoulders and back relaxed. Could his wife truly be safe and sound?

  He groaned to himself when the voice of the woman to whom they spoke reached his ears. Why did it have to be those cloying Dashwoods?

  “You must have been terrified, my dear. The theatre should never have allowed a common beggar to remain so near when a performance is scheduled. It is a threat to all good society.

  “Oh! Mr. Darcy!” Mrs. Dashwood cried upon his approach. “I was just saying what a travesty it was that the theatre allowed that man to remain near the entrance.” She paused and donned a look of affected sincerity. “Poor Mrs. Darcy!” The last was said in such a way that even the most dim-witted individual could have ascertained her false concern.

  “Mr. Dashwood.” He gave a slight bow. The husband reciprocated the greeting as Mrs. John Dashwood curtsied. “Mrs. Dashwood. I thank you for your care for my wife. As for the vagrant, my cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam volunteered to escort him to the magistrate, so he could do no further harm.” He stepped beside Elizabeth and she took his arm. Her hands still quivered, but she appeared composed, which was the most pressing issue.

  “Lady Matlock, you have such gentleman-like grandsons!” Mrs. Dashwood fawned to his grandmother. “But, it will be such a shame for the colonel to miss the play.”

  Darcy covered Elizabeth’s hand and entwined their fingers as she ever so slightly leaned into him. “The colonel will return if it is possible, but he decided our safety was paramount to his entertainment.”

  Mrs. Dashwood nodded, acknowledged someone behind him with a raised hand, and addressed her husband, “I see Lady Selwyn has arrived. We should greet her.”

  Mr. Dashwood gave a brief nod as he held out his arm. “Yes, of course, dear.”

  “Please excuse us, Lady Matlock, Mr. Darcy, Mrs. Darcy.”

  A breath left him in a whoosh as his shoulders relaxed. He then held out his hand to direct both his wife and grandmother. “We should make our way to our box.”

  The ladies agreed, and he led them up the stairs. They did not speak as they strode through the theatre, and managed to avoid most of their acquaintance, reaching their seats with haste. Darcy seated himself to Elizabeth’s left while his grandmother was situated on his wife’s other side, which allowed them both to offer her comfort.

  He leaned towards Elizabeth and took her hand in his. “You are well, are you not?”

  “You sent him to the magistrate?” Her eyes bulged and her mouth was agape. She was aware of the identity of her attacker!

  “No,” he whispered. “He has been taken to Ashcroft House where he will be locked in an attic. Tomorrow, I shall arrange for his passage to the Canadas where he can live out the remainder of his life without fear.”

  “You would do that?”

  He squeezed her hand and bestowed a kiss to her knuckles. “It is the most sensible solution. He will be safe from Grayson’s men and no longer be a threat to you.”

  Tears welled in her eyes, but none fell.

  “Thank you.”

  He passed her his handkerchief in the event she needed it. “Would you like to try a glass of wine? I am sure it would do you good.” He continued his caresses to her palm, careful to keep the action low enough so most of the crowd would not see.

  She scrunched her nose. “No, thank you. Just give me some time for the shock to subside.”

  “Go fetch an empty glass.” His grandmother directed as she pulled open her reticule and drew out a small flask.

  “Pardon?”

  “Wine has been turning her stomach, so perhaps a little brandy would be of use.”

  “Grandmamma! You carry a flask of brandy?” He glanced around. His voice had not been loud, but just in case, he assured himself that no one had heard him.

  “For times like these, Fitzwilliam. Now, she can drink it from here, or she can appear more of a lady and society will think you obtained a glass of wine for her, which would not be unusual under the circumstances.”

  “With the exception of the colour.” He leaned towards his wife’s ear. “You will be well?”

  She pursed her lips in an obvious effort to restrain her laughter. “Your grandmother will protect me. I would much prefer to drink from a glass if possible.”

  Elizabeth watched him as he rose and departed the box. He was such a dear to be so worried. Her fingers twitched as she tried to rub some warmth back into them.

  “Let me know if he begins to mother you too much. I can set him straight.”

  She giggled and took the dowager’s hand. “Thank you for earlier. You prevented me from losing my composure.” She rubbed the back of his grandmother’s hand with her thumb, which stopped when it passed over the third finger of her left hand. The jewel that adorned it was different! She verified it with her eyes, in the event her fingers were mistaken.

  “Grandmamma, this is not your wedding ring. When did you begin wearing this?”

  “Several months ago. It was a gift from my husband on our twentieth wedding anniversary.”

  She continued to scrutinize the sapphire and then considered her own wedding bands. “You gave your rings to Fitzwilliam for me to wear!” How had she never realised before? “They seemed so familiar when we were wed, but I had thought it a coincidence. How stupid of me!”

  The dowager grasped Elizabeth’s hands and stared her directly in the eye. “I wanted you to have them, Lizzy. Of all my family, I felt those rings belonged on your finger first.”

  “But why?” She was overwhelmed and confused as to why his grandmother would insist on passing her wedding rings to her. Grandmamma spoke often of her husband, and the love she had for him was evident to anyone whenever his name was mentioned. Why would she allow such a precious keepsake to leave her finger?

  The older woman smiled warmly as she took Elizabeth’s hands. “Because you remind me of myself. My father was a gentleman of modest means, much li
ke yours, and I had little dowry and no connections of consequence. My uncles were also country squires, but were no more affluent than my father.”

  “And your husband did not care.”

  “He had married Lady Celeste Gillingham for money, connections, and his parents’ approval. He refused to marry for those concerns again. One of our neighbours had a house party and a ball one summer, and Gerald was there.” The elder lady gave a wistful sigh as she recounted the memories she so evidently cherished. “He stood up with me twice during the ball, and was by my side so I could not dance with other gentlemen. He was very benevolent and gentle for such a large man—much as your husband is.”

  “You should have your rings,” she argued. “You must miss them.”

  The dowager shook her head and halted Elizabeth’s attempts to remove the rings. “A part of me does, but I have my memories, which are my most treasured possessions. I think Gerald would agree that those belong on your finger, and he would not disapprove of my using this ring in their stead.”

  Elizabeth removed her hands from the dowager’s and was able to once again consider the bands encircling her finger. She adored them, but she would have never wanted his grandmother to part with so special a keepsake.

  The elder lady covered the rings with her hand. “I know you like them, and I want you to wear them. I cannot think of anyone more deserving.”

  Her eyes met the dowager’s, and she acquiesced. “I do not just like them—I love them dearly, yet I dislike the idea of you missing their presence.

  “I shall not allow you to return them.” Grandmamma’s expression was resolute, and one side of Elizabeth’s lips quirked upwards.

  “Very well. I will argue no longer, and instead, thank you for passing them on to Fitzwilliam. I am honoured you chose me to receive them.”

  They sat in silence for a few minutes while she held the older woman’s hand.

  A dry voice from beside her mumbled, “I did not think she would be back this season.”

  A glance across the theatre revealed Caroline Bingley entering a box with a group Elizabeth did not recognise. The haughty woman surveyed the guests around the expansive room and paused when she espied Elizabeth and the dowager. She did not acknowledge them; rather, she spun around when a man offered his arm to escort her to a seat beside his. Louisa Hurst was seated behind her sister.