“I wonder if he sent others to do it, or if he was there,” Richard mused. “I cannot wait to see his face when he knows you are alive.”
“And yet you propose we go to Scotland?” William raised an eyebrow.
“We have other things in train to incarcerate him,” Richard said. “But it may take a few weeks. If I thought you remembered enough to accuse him, it might be different.”
“No. And if I said I did, the question would be asked why I hadn’t come forward earlier.” William shook his head. “It would mean justice, I suppose, but I’m glad I don’t remember — or even much of those early weeks. I’m not sure I want to know.”
“And I will respect that.” Richard rose to his feet. “So you will come with me? If you dine at Matlock House with me, and stay, we could leave at dawn tomorrow.”
William hesitated. “Now?” He must find a moment to speak to Miss Bennet first.
24
Richard glanced across the coach at his cousin as they rolled through the countryside north of London. Darcy seemed relaxed, although Richard thought he could discern a degree of discomfort which he was trying to hide.
“Tell me, Darcy, how did you manage to rise to your position of security from apparently nothing at all?”
“I was fortunate,” his cousin shrugged. “I could not have done it without the patronage of Gardiner.”
“That’s not the way Gardiner tells it,” Richard observed. “You’ve been with him for — what, six years? What happened in the six years before you met him?”
Darcy frowned. He clearly didn’t want to think too much about the past. “I was cared for by a local apothecary who procured a set of clothes and boots for me. Then I lived and worked as a stable lad, studying and saving when I could.” He smiled thinly. “It would not have been possible if I’d had no education, so I hardly had nothing.”
Richard decided he would be better to say no more, and his cousin was morose and silent as they travelled north.
Half an hour later, Richard tried again. “You asked yesterday about your sister.”
Darcy nodded silently, but Richard could see his attention sharpen. He thought for a moment.
“Your mother died of a fever when Georgiana was a few days old, and your father blamed the rigours of childbirth. He didn’t mean to blame Georgiana, of course, but all she ever heard from him was about how much he missed his wife.” He smiled and lifted his feet up onto the seat cushions opposite.
“You were devastated at your mother’s loss, too. But you were insistent that Georgiana not know any lack of love, and you doted on her. Whenever you were home from school, she’d follow along behind, trying to keep up with our games. Then, of course, you stopped coming home.” He stared out of the window.
“How did that affect her?”
Richard started and realised he’d stopped talking. “She became very quiet and withdrawn. I have tried to keep her company as much as possible, but Wickham was always around, of course. He was always a favourite with your father, and since you disappeared, he has insinuated himself very much into the family.”
Darcy sat forward, frowning. “What was Wickham’s position? Why was he always around? I don’t understand the connection.”
Richard sighed. “This won’t be easy to hear, I’m afraid. He has always been part of our childhood. Before we were born, your father took a man named Wickham as his steward — the son of a local attorney. There was a lot of rumour. If it’s true, the attorney was a natural child of your great-grandfather. I’m sure Wickham has heard the rumours, and has a sense of his own entitlement, even though he is really just the son of the steward.”
He shrugged and met Darcy’s gaze. “He was an engaging child, and has always been a favourite of your father, who paid for his schooling and raised him when his own father died.”
Darcy’s brow was furrowed, and he seemed deep in thought. “A tall lad, light brown hair, with a mocking expression?”
“Do you remember?” Richard was on the edge of his seat.
“Am I right?” Darcy’s features were strained. At Richard’s nod, Darcy sighed. “I sometimes wondered if I didn’t remember my past because there was nothing and nobody familiar around me. No names for me to think about, no anecdotes to hang a memory on.” Darcy shook his head. “But there seems so little to go on.”
“But you must have remembered your name faintly, to take the name William,” Richard offered.
“No. The local clergyman named me after his father, as it was the anniversary of the old man’s death.” Darcy’s voice was flat, emotionless.
Richard wondered what had transpired to cause that reaction. But there was plenty of time to find out more in the future. He must not cause his cousin any further distress.
He laughed. “Well, I can furnish you with any number of anecdotes from our shared past during the coming months and years, Darcy!”
“I think there has been enough for now.” At least his cousin seemed to know his limits. “Which post stop is next?”
As they settled back in the coach after their luncheon, Richard saw that his cousin seemed rather more relaxed. “I think we will be five or six days upon the road,” he remarked. “Depending on where we join the family.”
Darcy nodded, his eyes focussed in the distance. “What town have you arranged for the rendezvous?”
Richard shrugged. “I have the name of three or four inns in small towns where they may be. We will find them easily enough. Local gossip will inform us.”
He watched a slight look of distaste cross his cousin’s face. “I’m afraid such is inevitable, Darcy. But you will come not to notice it after a while.”
A humourless chuckle was all the response he got, and he tried again. “I thought we might swing slightly to the west, and look at Pemberley as we go through Derbyshire — although we cannot alert the staff to your presence yet.”
Darcy shook his head. “It would be better not to risk being recognised, I think. And I have seen a sketch of Pemberley in Gardiner’s copy of Who’s Who.”
He didn’t say what he thought of the house, which amused Richard vastly. The Darcy of old wouldn’t have cared, either. The house had just been there, waiting for him, with all the splendid arrogance of youth that they had both had.
But he was startled out of his reverie when Darcy spoke. “I would like us to take the more easterly route, if we may. I intend to call at an address in Helmsley, about half a day on from York, before we continue to Scotland.”
“We can do that, of course,” Richard was curious, but Darcy didn’t elucidate. “In fact, we would arrive there on Saturday, so we could have the Sabbath there. It is as good a place as any to have to wait a day.” He glanced at his cousin. “If your business does not take too much time, we can walk on the moors after church.”
Darcy smiled, and watched as Richard lifted his feet back onto the couch cushions again, feeling the more relaxed he seemed, the more Darcy would relax also.
“Would you sit thus if we were with your parents?” he asked Richard curiously.
“Certainly not!” Richard laughed. “Life is quite formal with them, even when just the family is present. I do miss the irreverence of our youth.”
Darcy raised his eyebrows. “So has my sister had a very formal upbringing?”
Richard felt sad. “I suppose she has. We were all taken up with your loss, of course; and by the time I realised what was going on, she knew her life had been mapped out for her — and now it’s getting uncomfortably close.”
“And what will she think if I turn up and say it must not happen if she doesn’t wish it?”
Richard felt a sudden relief. “I think she’ll be delighted that someone is prepared to stand up to her father.” He looked steadily at Darcy. “And the relief of knowing she is not heiress to Pemberley will be great indeed.”
“What is her fortune?”
“Thirty thousand, I believe.” Richard wasn’t certain, but the figure had been mentioned b
efore Darcy had disappeared, so he supposed it was about that.
He was glad when they stopped for the night at Peterborough, and he thought Darcy was, too. The connection between them was still too new to be certain they could re-establish their friendship with too long in such close company.
Perhaps tomorrow, he could try and understand the business Gardiner and Darcy had been doing. It had consumed his cousin’s attention for a number of years; Richard needed to know about it, and wished to appear interested.
25
Elizabeth sat on the window seat of her chamber, looking out over Gracechurch Street, and read the letters from home. She smiled slightly over Papa’s and Jane’s letters. Each asked her to consider returning home, as they always did — before saying it was, of course, entirely her choice. This time, to her surprise, she’d also received a letter from Mama.
No words of sorrow or apology — nothing, in fact, to even acknowledge she’d not written to Elizabeth since she’d come to London. She didn’t ask Elizabeth how she was, or to carry a message to Uncle Gardiner. What she did write about was the certainty of Jane marrying Mr. Bingley. He was so handsome, so amiable, with such wonderful manners, and his sisters were such fine ladies.
But Jane’s letters were different. It was obvious she found her affections stirred by him, but Elizabeth could discern a puzzlement behind her words; a concern that Mr. Bingley, though seemingly enamoured of her, had made no attempt to single her out for extra attention.
Elizabeth had shown her letters to her aunt. “I think Mama’s raptures about her hopes for Jane may be causing the young man some hesitation, Aunt. May I go home soon? I think I ought to be there and help Mama to be a little more reticent.”
Aunt Gardiner had laughed. “It is one way to offend your mother again, Lizzy.” She wiped her eyes. “But I don’t think it’s just that, is it? You’re feeling out of sorts since Mr. Darcy went away.”
Elizabeth could feel the blush stealing up her cheeks. She forced herself to smile. “It will be harder for me to stay here and be reminded of him, Aunt. I cannot expect to see him again, and if I go home, it’ll be easier for me to begin to make a new life.”
It was quiet in Hertfordshire after the bustling East End of town. Elizabeth settled into bed and pulled the covers up as high as she could. She sighed, her head already pounding with the realities of life at Longbourn. Lydia and Kitty were arguing in the hallway outside her chamber.
“I’m the prettiest, and all the officers like me best!” Lydia proclaimed viciously, and Kitty’s cry of rage — quite justified in Elizabeth’s view — was drowned by Mama’s shriek of anger.
“Will you two have some consideration of my nerves?”
Elizabeth sighed again and put her book down. She extinguished the candle carefully and folded her pillow over her ears, pressing hard to drown out the noise.
Perhaps she shouldn’t have come home. She lay in bed, hearing her younger sisters’ continued argument fading as they moved along the hall to their chambers.
A quiet knock on her door heralded Jane. “Oh! I’m sorry, Lizzy. I didn’t realise you’d extinguished your candle.”
Elizabeth sat up in bed. “No, come in, Jane. It was only because I couldn’t concentrate with Lydia and Kitty fighting outside the door. But we can talk now, and I’m glad you brought your candle.” She patted the bed beside her, and Jane joined her.
“Oh, Lizzy, I’m so happy you’ve come home. Letters are not the best way to talk to you.”
“I know, but I’m here now, and you must tell me all about Mr. Bingley. I will have to approve of him, you know, before I allow him to marry you.” Elizabeth allowed a gentle teasing tone to pervade her voice, and her sister looked down, pleating the coverlet between her fingers.
“I don’t know what to think, Lizzy. He’s the most amiable gentleman of my acquaintance.” She looked up at her sister. “He’s everything a young man ought to be — and very handsome, as well. But — we’ve seen quite a lot of each other, really, and yet he doesn’t seem inclined to show any sign of wishing to make a move towards making me an offer — or even speaking to Papa about courting me.” The anguish in her voice tore at Elizabeth’s heart, and she drew her into a fierce embrace.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been here for you, Jane. But I am now, and we will have to make some plans.”
The suspicion on her sister’s face made her laugh. “No, really, Jane. You know I’m not like Mama. I won’t embarrass either of you. No, I meant to try and remove him from having to listen to Mama’s plan to trap him, and to make him see that there’s no one he could ever love more than you.”
She sat up a bit more. “Now, when am I going to meet him?”
“I don’t think he’ll call tomorrow,” Jane sounded downcast. “He has some business to do, I believe.” She smiled wistfully. “Although I think he said it because he knew you were coming home, and perhaps wished to give us some time together.”
“He seems very thoughtful.”
“Oh, he is,” Jane sighed. “But you’ll see him at church on Sunday, of course. He’ll come over to be introduced to you.”
“And to greet you, of course.” Elizabeth smiled impishly.
“He always does.” Jane sounded serene. “But I don’t understand why, if he doesn’t wish to court me.”
“You’re not to worry,” Elizabeth declared. “I will need to meet him first, before we decide on a plan!”
At church on Sunday, Elizabeth could feel the tension in her sister as Jane stood beside her. Ahead, in the Netherfield pew, stood that whole party. She wondered for a moment if Mr. Darcy had stood there when he was staying; surely he would not have refused to attend church?
She frowned at her prayerbook, had he been here on a Sunday? She couldn’t remember, only that he hadn’t stayed away from town as long as Uncle Gardiner had wished. But Jane hadn’t mentioned anything in her letters, and she was usually assiduous in noting down all the happenings at home.
Elizabeth scolded herself; she ought not to think of him as Mr. Darcy, not while she was here. Mr. Bingley knew him as Mr. Stoke, and she knew the Fitzwilliam family were keeping his discovery a secret until he was safe.
All through the service, her anxiety for his security sharpened, now she’d allowed herself to think of the risk to his person. She bit her lip and stared up at the great stained-glass window. If his assailant had been around his own age at the time Mr. Darcy had been attacked, it meant that man must be even more dangerous now he was grown. She shivered, and Jane leaned over to her.
“Are you unwell, Lizzy?”
Elizabeth shook her head. “I’m well. It was only a stray thought.” She wondered whether to introduce talk of Mr. Stoke to the party when she was presented to them — then realised that, of course, she ought to. If Mr. Bingley found out later that Uncle Gardiner was related to Jane, he might feel disquieted that he hadn’t known. It was, though, important to remember that he was still known as Mr. Stoke here.
She pushed aside thoughts of a tall, serious gentleman; he was travelling to Scotland with his cousin, to join a tour with his aunt and uncle and sister. He would not be confronting the other man yet. She looked at the Netherfield pew in front of them, determined to concentrate on matters at hand.
“Which gentleman is Mr. Bingley?” she murmured.
“The taller, younger gentleman, of course,”Jane whispered.
Of course. Elizabeth smiled. The taller, younger man stood straight and proud. On entering the church, he had removed his hat, and she could see brown, curly hair, fashionably short; and his movements showed a restless energy. It seemed to her he was finding it difficult not to turn and look for her sister in the congregation behind.
After the service, she stood demurely with Jane. Mary stood to one side, casting a disapproving glance at Kitty and Lydia’s antics. If Mr. Bingley was still paying his attentions to Jane despite all this, Elizabeth heartily approved of him already.
Mama was telling Papa how
kind and gentlemanly Mr. Bingley was being in always greeting them so warmly, and what a wonderful couple he and Jane made. Elizabeth tried not to roll her eyes at her sister, whose blush betrayed her embarrassment.
Elizabeth sighed. If she went to distract Mama, she’d not have the opportunity to greet Mr. Bingley; but on the other hand, the poor gentleman might avoid them completely. “Does he have to endure this every week?” she whispered.
“I’m afraid so,” Jane sighed.
“Don’t worry, Lizzy. I think I can distract Mama.” Mary’s voice surprised Elizabeth and she turned to her.
“Really?”
“Let me see.” Mary nodded firmly and crossed the path to where Mr. Stephenson stood, and murmured something to the old clergyman. He frowned for a moment, then smiled benignly down at her, before crossing back with her to speak to her parents.
“Well!” Elizabeth wasn’t about to waste the opportunity. She touched Jane’s arm. “Let’s move a little further away. Mary’s ruse might well work.”
“I wonder what she’s asked him to do?” Jane glanced back at their younger sister.
“We can find out later,” Elizabeth urged. “Let’s do as she wishes.”
A moment later, the Netherfield party approached, and Elizabeth could examine the features of the gentleman favoured by her sister.
She approved of Mr. Bingley. She knew it within a very few minutes of speaking to him. His open, amiable countenance told her of his genial good humour, and his gaze upon her sister told her his affections were as strong as Jane’s were. His sociable nature was perfectly apparent.
The only fly in the ointment might be his sisters, she thought. They appeared proud and haughty, and she couldn’t imagine why Jane had described them as friendly and welcoming.
Elizabeth’s lips twitched. From what Mr. Stoke had told her, she knew their fortunes were from trade — Jane, as a gentleman’s daughter, was above them. But it was obvious their pretensions were far above their true station. Still, Jane was serene and gentle, she would be able to maintain civil relations when they visited their brother, where Elizabeth would not have been able to if it had been her.
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