The Lost Heir

by Harriet Knowles

  At the warehouse, he bowed shortly at Miss Bennet, and smiled. He couldn’t help himself. Her lavender scent washed over him, calming his racing thoughts. She acknowledged him politely, and he had to push away the thought of how a wife would greet her husband. He shivered and turned to greet Gardiner.

  As they took their usual seats at the small table, he looked at her. “Miss Bennet, I hoped today we could discuss the way we plan our pricing. Before approaching the men with power to make buying decisions, I must have it fully in my mind for every item. Are you able to tell me why you think it is necessary to do that?”

  She nodded happily. “Of course.” But before she could continue, Mr. Gardiner drew closer.

  “If I might interrupt before you get properly started, William, my wife is calling here to collect Lizzy at eleven o’clock to attend a gallery. I hope you can be available to take tea with us at that time.”

  William had risen to his feet. “Of course, sir, if you wish.” He was surprised. In six years, he’d never met Mrs. Gardiner, and had always thought she wished to distance herself from obvious trade connections.

  He cast a wary eye at Miss Bennet. Had she perhaps laughed about him with her aunt, saying how he seemed to be tongue-tied around her? He swallowed, and sat back down. The silence seemed oppressive.

  Miss Bennet glanced at him thoughtfully. “I think the pricing structure might be better if you were able to have a list of fixed prices to show them — and it would seem more official if you managed to get the sheet printed in the time available. All your business details would be at the top of the sheet, making it very easy for a new order to be placed.” A little frown line appeared between her brows. “But of course, you could not alter your prices if the costs went up.”

  William resisted the urge to smooth away her frown line, and swallowed. He forced his mind to concentrate on what she’d said. “I think a printed sheet is an excellent idea. As for updating the prices, I want to set our prices at a cost which is sustainable at that level for a considerable time. Let’s discuss it, and then return to the presentation.”

  “Of course.” Her smile was warm. She lowered her voice. “I do want to say how much I appreciate the time you have given up to talk to me, and the sincerity with which you consider my opinions. Not many men would do that.”

  If she’d been determined to distract him and make him even more anxious, she could not have thought of a better thing to say. He scrabbled desperately for a foothold on the topic at hand.

  She laughed softly. “Please do not be discomposed at the thought of my aunt calling this morning, Mr. Stoke. She is the kindest and most gracious of ladies, and it was just that it was the most convenient way to arrange the morning.”

  He nodded, and cleared his throat. “It will be a privilege to meet her, Miss Bennet. I owe Mr. Gardiner a great deal.”

  She seemed to understand his discomfort and returned to the business at hand. “I was thinking last night about the temptation it must be to make the prices very low when you meet your customers, Mr. Stoke.” She looked down at her notes. “But it seemed to me that, while you do need to offer a cost which is attractive to someone who has to answer to his seniors, it would not be politic to be attractive solely on the grounds of being the cheapest.”

  He relaxed. “Could you expand on your thoughts, please?”

  Two hours later, they both looked up, startled, as the clerk opened the door.

  “Mrs. Gardiner, sir.”

  “Wonderful!” Mr. Gardiner rose to his feet. “Come in, Madeline. Molly will bring tea in a moment.” He bowed over his wife’s hand, then turned. “I’m glad to be able to introduce Mr. William Stoke to you at last.”

  William bowed. “I’m very glad to meet you, Mrs. Gardiner. I owe your husband a great debt of gratitude.”

  He looked up, catching an odd expression on her face. But she was strong, and quickly controlled her features. He’d have expected nothing less than such strength from Miss Bennet’s aunt, of course.

  Mrs. Gardiner nodded at him. “I’ve heard a great deal about you over the years from my husband, Mr. Stoke, and more recently from Lizzy.”

  William knew he flushed. He kept his eyes down, he mustn’t look at Miss Bennet, who was crossing the room to greet her aunt.

  “Come and sit down!” Mr. Gardiner boomed, as the woman carried in the tea tray.

  William hung back a little, until he could see where the ladies were sitting, and he took a seat a little further back. He mustn’t look too much at Miss Bennet, and he couldn’t really stare at the floor all the time. But every time he glanced at Mrs. Gardiner, she seemed to be staring at him, a strange look on her face.

  She must be suspicious of his intentions towards her niece, and he regretted very much they’d forgotten the time this morning, and still been deep in conversation when Mrs. Gardiner had arrived. If they’d merely had their allotted hour, he would have joined the party from the workroom, and it might not have seemed so suspicious.

  With relief, he noted that Miss Bennet was explaining to her uncle what they had been discussing that morning, and she made it seem as if they had covered the subject in a great deal of depth. He exerted himself to listen, so he could comment on what she’d said.

  Mrs. Gardiner listened with some amusement. “It seems you have some decided opinions, Lizzy.”

  Miss Bennet laughed. “You know I’ve always been like that, Aunt. But Mr. Stoke is very good and listens as if what I say is important.”

  “It is important,” William interjected. “You have some very valid opinions, Miss Bennet.”

  He felt great relief at the knock on the door. When the clerk put his head around the door to report some difficulty in the warehouse, William rose to his feet.

  “Allow me to deal with the matter, Mr. Gardiner. You ought to stay with your family.” He turned and bowed to the ladies. “Good day, Mrs. Gardiner; good day, Miss Bennet. I hope you enjoy the gallery.”

  He wondered uneasily why Mrs. Gardiner had been looking at him so strangely, and with such intensity, during the call.

  Miss Bennet had helped him a great deal, and he had made great efforts not to pay her any more attention than he would if discussing business matters with her uncle. He would be mortified if she had told her aunt his attention was unwelcome.

  11

  Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam crossed the room and bowed over the lady’s hand. “Good morning, Mother. You’re looking as lovely as ever.”

  “Get away with you, Richard,” his mother laughed. “You don’t need to flatter me.”

  Richard laughed, too. “But it keeps me in favour with you. Why wouldn’t I do it?”

  “You could pour me a cup of tea.” His mother sat in her favourite chair. “Is Georgiana upstairs?”

  “Yes, she’s practising, and has her companion with her.” Richard busied himself with the teapot.

  “I still, even after so long, cannot understand why her father is so determined on his course.” The countess shook her head. “I know the loss of Darcy was something he’ll never get over, but that his own daughter feels she must live here, almost in exile from her home?” She shuddered.

  Richard’s throat tightened at Darcy’s name, as it always did. The loss of his cousin was something he’d never get over, either. But he could not show it. He must seem to have recovered, seem to be making a life for himself.

  He shrugged. “She was only three when she became heiress to Pemberley. She has never known anything different.”

  “Richard! You know I don’t mean that!” His mother beckoned him to sit beside her. “If your uncle wanted to secure Pemberley, you ought to be the one marrying Georgiana when she is old enough, not that …” she hesitated, “… wastrel!”

  Richard nodded heavily. “I know. And not because I would want Pemberley. I do not. I love Georgiana like a sister, and I know she will not have a happy life as Mrs. Wickham. It is a pity her father cannot — will not — see it. There are other, better men, w
ho would make her a good husband, and be good stewards of Pemberley, too.”

  “He is a foolish, stubborn man.” Lady Matlock agreed.

  “And Wickham is a cunning and scheming one,” Richard agreed. “In all this time, we have never had any opportunity to change things, never been able to persuade my uncle of his error.”

  “It is the worst of it that such an evil man has gained control over your uncle.” His mother shook her head. “When the steward called his son George, we ought, perhaps, to have felt forewarned.”

  “Have you been discussing the situation with Father?” Richard asked, idly. It had been so many years, he would have thought his parents would have given up, and accepted the situation.

  “No.” His mother sounded hopeless. “I cannot see that there is anything to be done. I am just very sad on Georgiana’s behalf. I do not think she anticipates her future with any pleasure.”

  “Wickham is stupid not to try and charm her more,” Richard growled.

  He would not tell his mother that he had even wondered over the past years whether it would be better if Wickham met with some sort of accident. He was certain in his own mind that Wickham had arranged something of the sort for Darcy. But despite years of searching, he’d never been able to gather even the slightest scrap of evidence. Wickham was a devious man.

  The great door opened, and a footman entered, carrying a silver tray. The countess straightened.

  “I wasn’t expecting a caller today.” She accepted the card from the tray, and frowned.

  “Who is it?” Richard asked, not very interested. He could join Georgiana upstairs, he supposed. He drained his tea hastily.

  “No, please don’t go,” Mother was looking puzzled. “Do you know the name?” She extended the card towards him.

  “Mrs. M. Gardiner,” he read out. “No, I do not recall it.” He turned the card over, but there was nothing on the reverse. He turned it back over. “And it just states London, not the full direction.”

  “Not a very salubrious address, then.” His mother smiled thinly, and looked at the footman.

  “Is the lady well-dressed, Jamieson?”

  “It appears so, my lady.” The man looked a little uncomfortable.

  “Well, if you stay with me, Richard, I will receive her; I am curious as to what she wants.” His mother smiled at him, a trace of her youthful mischievous nature still in her eyes.

  “With pleasure, Mother.” Richard was glad the topic of Darcy was to be forgotten. His heartache was always worse when his mother mentioned his cousin.

  He watched with interest as the stranger entered the room. She was perfectly well-attired as a lady, if not one of the highest class, and her demeanour seemed calm. She stopped and curtsied to his mother.

  “Lady Matlock. I’m very grateful you’ve agreed to receive me.”

  Richard watched as his mother acknowledged her guest. “I admit I’m curious as to the nature of your call.” She indicated Richard. “My son, Colonel Fitzwilliam.”

  Mrs. Gardiner curtsied to him. “Colonel.” Richard bowed in response.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Gardiner.”

  “Take a seat, Mrs. Gardiner, and tell me why you have called.” Mother wasn’t going to waste time on social chit-chat, Richard was amused to see.

  Mrs. Gardiner looked unsure of herself for the first time. She hesitated, and took a deep breath.

  “My lady, first you need to know I was brought up in Lambton, not five miles from Pemberley, in Derbyshire.”

  Richard jerked to attention. What was this all about?

  His mother’s attention had also been gained, but her self-control was absolute.

  “Pray continue, Mrs. Gardiner.”

  “Yes. What I have to say pertains to the Darcy family, but I am aware Miss Darcy is too young to receive information of the nature I have to impart, and there is no other lady I could call on nearer to the family than yourself.”

  Richard could see the lady was wringing her hands in her lap about the nature of her call; he hoped she would not change her mind and leave the house without saying what she had intended to. What was it about Pemberley? He began to docket all the information in his mind. He might have need of it later; a duty to the memory of his cousin.

  Mrs. Gardiner squared her jaw. “A few days ago, I was introduced to a young man who has been known to my husband for some years. I was surprised to see that he bears a strong resemblance — nay, a very strong resemblance — to the current master of Pemberley, Mr. Darcy.”

  Richard couldn’t contain himself. “How young?”

  Mrs. Gardiner looked round. “It is hard to be sure, but I would say he is approaching thirty years of age, perhaps.”

  “That is enough!” Richard’s mother broke in. She turned to her guest. “Why do you think he is living under another name, if he is, in fact, related to my brother-in-law?”

  Mrs. Gardiner could hardly contain herself, and got up, crossing to the window. Her voice was indistinct. “I ought not to have come to you, I know. It might indeed be that he is the result of an indiscreet liaison — but I know Mr. Darcy as an honourable gentleman, and I don’t believe he would have done such a thing.” She looked down.

  “I also understand the young man has had the benefit of an excellent upbringing and education. No natural child would have received that. I do not know the whole story, as my husband is not at liberty to tell me, but I do know this young man was discovered, gravely injured, and has no memory of his past. For more than a decade, he has been working hard to make his way in life.”

  She turned back to them with a wistful smile. “My husband is proud he has been able to assist him.”

  “Richard, please ring for tea.” Mother was completely in control, and she gave him a stern look, telling him he must do likewise. “Mrs. Gardiner, I would be grateful if you could sit down. It seems you might have done the family a great service, and I would like to ask a little of the circumstances of this young man.”

  Mrs. Gardiner crossed the room and sat on the edge of the chair. She looked exceedingly unsure of herself. “I am not sure how much I ought to tell you. I have been in two minds whether I ought to come here, especially as the young man is not aware I recognised his features.”

  “If he is, in fact, from the family, I would think any man would be pleased to find out as soon as possible.” Mother had an edge to her voice, but their guest was made of sterner stuff.

  “Yes, my lady, I, too, might have thought that.” A slight smile tugged the corners of Mrs. Gardiner’s mouth. “But this young man is different to any other, if my husband and niece are to be believed.”

  “Niece!” Mother was startled.

  “Indeed.” Mrs. Gardiner rose to her feet. “I think perhaps I ought to ask my husband to approach him and ask if he wishes me to share any information. I would not care to cause him pain by discovery of any fact he would not want to find out.”

  She went to the door, even as a footman opened the door to supervise the maid carrying the fresh tea. She turned. “Thank you, my lady, for agreeing to see me. I will try and persuade the young man to approach you. It is for him to decide.”

  Richard watched as his mother rose to her feet. “Mrs Gardiner, please stay a few more moments. We must know where to find this young man. The matter is of exceptional importance.”

  “No. No. I must think.” Mrs Gardiner had begun to look distressed.

  Richard placed his hand on his mother’s arm. “See Mrs. Gardiner to the door, Mother. Do not insist she remain. Perhaps she will feel able to return in a few days.” He lowered his voice. “I will take a horse and follow the coach, to see where they live.”

  12

  William strode along the road to the warehouse. It had been more than a week now since Mrs. Gardiner had unsettled his equilibrium with her intense gaze. But nothing had come of it, and he felt rather better.

  Not that he was completely composed — a few sightings of an officer who seemed to be paying him some
attention — and he found himself wanting to speak to Miss Bennet, tell her things he had only ever told her uncle. He even wondered whether he dare speak of further things he had not even told Gardiner. He knew he could trust her, and she might assist him, help him decide if he ought to seek change.

  Her intelligent consideration of his business proposal had impressed him with her maturity of thought, and he wondered perhaps if she might settle his uneasiness of the last week.

  He turned into the warehouse, nodding at the clerks in the entry office. “Good morning.”

  He sat in the small office that was his own place here, and placed the papers on his desk. Another half-an-hour until Miss Bennet would arrive with her uncle and he’d be able to spend an hour with her. They’d be talking business, of course, but even that was exquisite torture, much better than nothing at all.

  He sat there idly, wondering how to manage to have a conversation with her, how to ask her what he wanted to, without the risk of being overheard. Molly brought him in a cup of tea and a shy smile, and he thanked her gravely.

  She bobbed a curtsy. “I’ll tell you as soon as Mr. Gardiner arrives, Mr. Stoke, don’t you worry.”

  He smiled absently at her. “I know you will, Molly, and I’m grateful to you.”

  They would be discussing the final touches to the new business he hoped to win. Soon, it would be complete. He looked forward to that day, it was a stronger business with Miss Bennet’s contribution. He also dreaded it; the time when they would no longer meet each day to plan. But he must begin to seek the business now; he could not be sure no one else would soon have the same thoughts.

  A short while later, grave and with an armful of papers, he entered Mr. Gardiner’s office, a practiced smile on his features. “Good morning, Mr. Gardiner, Miss Bennet.”

  As they sat down at the table, she looked at him. “You’re concerned about something, Mr. Stoke.” Her voice was very low. “We will finish soon, and it will be very good business.”