His uncle shook his head. “It is no matter. But I will not have you call me ‘my lord’. You may call me Uncle Henry, as Georgiana and Anne do. Or Matlock, if you wish to be more informal.”
Darcy nodded. It would be difficult to be on such informal terms with an earl, especially so soon after meeting him. “Thank you — Uncle. But who is Anne? Do I have another sister — or cousins I do not know about?”
“I’d forgotten how little you know.” His uncle rubbed his hand over his face. “Richard, you need to tell Darcy about Lady Catherine.”
Darcy looked at Richard, and had to hide a smile at the distaste on his face.
“Before I tell you, Darcy, promise me that embarrassing relations will not make you wish to return to your previous character.”
“But you’re not thinking of that, surely?” the earl interrupted, looking astonished.
Darcy sighed. “The temptation is there, I admit.” He turned back to his cousin.
“Proceed. I need to know it all.”
31
Elizabeth was delighted to have the opportunity to go to London with Jane, even though she knew she couldn’t stay very long.
Her uncle might have more news of Mr. Darcy — perhaps he might even let her see his letters.
She settled herself next to Jane in the coach. “I can’t wait for you to see the little girls, Jane. I think Maddie is my favourite, but you must never tell her. Lilibeth knows she’s the most important person in the whole world, but little Janie wants to be loved the most by everyone.”
Jane laughed. “I feel as if I know them well already, Lizzy. Your letters over the last years have made it seem as if I’ve watched them grow up. It’s a pity Mama would let me come here but rarely while you were staying.”
Elizabeth nodded. “It would have been so much nicer if you’d been with me.”
Jane glanced at her and smiled. “From what Aunt told me whenever she wrote, you were spending most of your time at the warehouse with the handsome Mr. Stoke.”
The heat on her face told Elizabeth of her blush, and Jane’s soft laugh confirmed it.
She tossed her head. “I was helping with their business plans.” She must find out from her uncle whether it was all right for Jane to know that Mr. Stoke had a new name, a new family. Once she knew, Mr. Bingley would soon know — and his sisters. Then the whole town would know. They must be careful, they must not expose him too soon or he might be in danger.
She wished they were nearly there, and she must find a moment for a quiet word with Aunt Gardiner to make sure Mr. Darcy’s name wasn’t revealed to Jane before they knew it was safe to do so.
They hurried up the steps of number twenty-three, and Jane flew into her aunt’s arms. Elizabeth stayed back, smiling at her sister’s happiness.
“Well, Jane,” their aunt extricated herself a little to examine her eldest niece’s features. “It’s lovely that you’ve come to see us, but I’m not at all sure why you wanted to leave your Mr. Bingley.”
Elizabeth moved forward and enveloped her favourite relations in an embrace. “It’s all my doing. Mr. Bingley seems to be a dilatory soul. I’m sure he wants to make Jane an offer, and I can’t decide why he delays it so much. I thought if Jane came to London, he might think she will catch the attention of someone else. It will make him consider what he is at risk of losing.”
Aunt Gardiner’s peal of laughter caused Jane to smile finally.
“Oh, Aunt! I don’t know what to say. I really wanted to come and see you, but I am afraid he might meet someone else, and I’d lose him.” Jane’s anxiety was evident.
“Come and sit down and we’ll order tea.” Their aunt nodded at the housekeeper who was waiting for instructions, and they all went through to the drawing room, arms still entwined.
As they took their seats, Elizabeth whispered to her aunt. “I think Mr. Darcy’s change of name is still a secret, isn’t it?”
Her aunt nodded slightly and turned to Jane. “I think Lizzy’s idea is very impertinent, but possibly a sound one. A young man who can’t make a decision might need a reminder that he can’t expect you to wait for ever.”
“Oh, Aunt,” Jane reproved. “Mr. Bingley isn’t like that!”
“Of course he’s not,” Elizabeth tried to reassure her. “He just needs a little reminder, that’s all.” She laughed. “I firmly expect him to discover he has urgent business in town and he’ll call here in very short order!”
Their aunt laughed. “You’ll have to allow that Lizzy often has the right of it, Jane. I’ve given up trying to prove her wrong.” She handed a cup of tea to Elizabeth. “You’ll be pleased to know, I expect, that your business plan is going very well. I often don’t see your uncle much in the evenings, as he is working in his library, trying to keep up with all the orders.”
“Oh, dear,” Elizabeth had her hand to her mouth. “I hope he’ll let me help him while I’m here.” She met her aunt’s gaze. “You could write to Papa and ask him to let me stay a little longer.”
“Don’t look at me with those innocent-looking eyes, Lizzy, and drink your tea!” Her aunt softened her words with her smile. “Your uncle might write if you ask him. I know how much he misses Mr. Stoke’s assistance.” She glanced at Elizabeth over the top of her teacup. “Though I doubt you can make up more than a little of what he did.”
“Certainly not!” Elizabeth confirmed. “I never knew anyone who worked so hard.”
Jane was looking from one to the other of them. “So where is this Mr. Stoke? I didn’t know he wasn’t still working with Uncle.”
Elizabeth hurried to cover up for him. “I think he’s on a business trip for Uncle Gardiner in the north country. I only know what Uncle has said in his letters.”
She glanced up at the clock. Her uncle would be home soon. She’d be able to talk to him.
32
Darcy frowned out of the coach window as they turned out of Woodbeck Park. He was very uneasy leaving his aunt and sister there while he accompanied his uncle and cousin to London.
They’d taken three days over the journey from Scotland to Nottinghamshire, and had stopped at Woodbeck Park in the small village of the same name to stay with distant relations of his aunt.
“They’ll be quite all right, Darcy.” Richard seemed to be reading his mind. “We’ve left them with enough security, and I’ll come back and escort them to London next week. We need enough time to see your father and discover the situation once he knows you’re alive.” He smirked. “I can’t wait to see Wickham’s face.”
Darcy glanced at him. “I am still concerned that he might find them. And that we told the family who I was before my father knows.”
“It had to be done,” the earl broke in. “And we will go directly to Darcy House.” He looked sympathetically at Darcy. “I know you feel that your father had the right to know first. The sooner he knows, the easier you will be in your mind.”
Darcy nodded, and returned his gaze to the landscape outside the window. One hundred and fifty miles. He knew his uncle planned to spend the night near Cambridge. They’d be calling at Darcy House tomorrow afternoon, all being well.
He could write to Bingley tonight. He wouldn’t receive the letter until after Darcy had reached London. But he owed it to the man not to find out what had happened through someone else. And he would also need to call on the old innkeeper at Lombard Street. Price was a very old man now, and Darcy wanted him to know he’d found his family before the old man died. He’d be pleased.
He became aware his uncle was speaking, and turned. “I’m sorry, sir. I was not paying attention.”
The earl smiled wryly. “I could see that. And please don’t call me sir.”
“Uncle,” Darcy acknowledged, dipping his head slightly. “Please be kind enough to repeat what you were saying.”
“Of course. Now, I think tomorrow we will take luncheon on the road, and plan to arrive at Darcy House at about three o’clock. I know your father no longer rises early, bu
t at that time, he ought to be at his best.”
“Whatever you think; you must know his current habits the best,” Darcy murmured.
Richard’s smirk broadened. “Wickham may not be up from his usual night of debauchery, but I have no doubt one of his servants will make haste to apprise him of the situation. He’ll hurry down and be quite discomposed that he is so unprepared.”
Darcy smiled reluctantly. “But you ought to hope that he is up, or you will not see the expression of surprise you wished to.”
“I think he’ll be up.” The earl looked at his son. “We must not underestimate him.” He scratched his ear. “We must stop any gossip between the servants. I think we will send the coach on as soon as we’ve alighted. It’s not far to walk back to Matlock House after we’ve finished …”
“Dropping the thunderbolt.” Richard seemed to be enjoying himself, and Darcy felt his own heart lightening a little.
“Do you think my father will refuse to acknowledge me?” he asked cautiously.
“I don’t think so.” His uncle felt in his pocket for his pipe, and Darcy tried not to show his distaste. “That’s partly why I wanted to surprise him. He won’t have time to be poisoned by Wickham, who’d undoubtedly see the advantage of advising him thus if he had the opportunity.” He patted his other pocket for the small tin which held the tobacco.
Darcy watched surreptitiously as his uncle opened the highly detailed tin. Those at the inn stored their tobacco in wraps of paper. Even the slightly better-off patrons had only tiny cardboard boxes. Tins were for those in society. He smiled, he would not be tempted himself. And he’d never seen Richard with a pipe.
“I suppose it will be difficult to plan what will happen, as so much depends on his reaction.” He turned to his uncle. “Tell me more about my father, what he was like, his attitude to me, how he managed his estate. I would like to be prepared better before I meet him.”
Darcy House was a much grander building than he had anticipated; it was quite the equal of Matlock House. It didn’t have the small park that Grosvenor Square was built around, of course, but Brook Street was wide, and all the buildings stately and commodious.
Richard looked eager to get inside, and Darcy followed his relations out of the coach, which rumbled off on his uncle’s orders.
“Which way is it to Matlock House?” Darcy murmured to Richard.
“It’s only a few minutes to stroll.” Richard pointed to the west.
“This way, quickly.” The earl hurried them up the steps. “I don’t want too many to see us from the windows.” He glanced at Darcy. “I hope your father’s at home to us.”
Darcy hoped so, too. The whole element of surprise would be lost if he was not. “Perhaps we ought to have sent ahead.”
“I did.” His uncle sounded nettled. “He is at home, I’m just not sure whether he is available for calls.”
“I’m sorry, I misunderstood.”
“No matter.”
As the butler opened the door, the earl stepped in briskly, as if quite at home, his tone confident. “Is Mr. Darcy at home?”
Darcy glanced round. So this was his inheritance. He barely had time to take in the opulence surrounding him, the plethora of servants in formal livery.
“Of course, my lord. I will announce you.” The butler swung his gaze round to ascertain who was with the earl, and when his gaze settled on Darcy, his eyes widened in shock. “I …”
“Yes, you can announce Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy as well,” the earl snapped. He wasn’t going to allow anything to delay them.
The sound of the drawing room door being wrenched open drew their attention. A younger man, about Darcy’s own age, perhaps a year or two older. Tall, and slightly built, with light brown hair, his expression was as shocked as the servant.
“Fitz!”
Richard stepped forward. “I’m glad you recognised my cousin, Wickham,” he drawled. “He’s returned home at last. Tell me how delighted you are.”
Darcy hid a smile. He’d never heard such a menacing voice hidden behind polite words before.
“Son?” A quavery voice from another doorway. Darcy spun round and saw his father for the first time.
He knew his father was less than sixty years of age, but he looked much older. Georgiana was right. In the past he must have looked very like Darcy did now. He crossed the hall to him.
“Sir. I’m sorry for what you’ve suffered for me.” He tolerated the man’s emotional embrace.
“It is you! It is!”
Darcy kept his emotions in a tight rein. “I do not know that. Until Richard found me, I had no knowledge of who I might be. I would be glad to know your opinion.”
The older man smiled. “I am already certain you are my son. But if you wish for proof, you need only look at your right hand. My son has a scar running on the inside of his third finger.”
Darcy sensed the earl lean forward as he turned his right palm up and looked again at the familiar scar. “I thought it was from one of the many lacerations I sustained in the accident.”
“I remember,” Richard said thoughtfully. “We were at Pemberley, home from school, and …”
“Yes, of course!” Darcy’s father interrupted. “I can see as well as you; it is the same scar. But I need to know what happened!” His grasp on Darcy’s arm tightened. “Tell me what happened to you.”
Darcy could feel Richard’s attention fasten on Wickham, so he kept his eyes on his father. No matter what he wished, he would have to speak of it now. Perhaps he would gain peace once it was done. “I have the memory of a high-pitched voice shouting in triumph as a rope was jerked up across the path of my horse. We fell at high speed. After that, I do not know, although the apothecary called by my rescuers told me that a further blow to my head was intended to kill.”
His father’s fingers tightened further, and he could feel the man tremble.
“Please don’t be discomposed, Father.” He must call him that now, he supposed. “All is well now, and Richard and Lord Matlock have asked me to come to you.”
“Well, come into my library and tell me everything that’s happened.” His father gazed up at his face as if he could still scarcely believe he was seeing him. “Everything.”
33
“Sit there, son.”
The library at Darcy House was what Darcy had expected, but actually seeing it still sent a pang through his heart. How much he’d missed in the years he’d been away. He allowed his gaze to follow the shelves packed with leather-bound volumes, the walls barely visible, and a ladder to reach the shelves nestling below the high ceilings. His fingertips tingled with the urge to run them along the spines of the nearest books.
His father’s rasping chuckle drew his attention back to him. “You always loved this room, right from when you were very young.” His faded eyes met Darcy’s. “And this will all be yours; now you’ve returned to claim your birthright.”
Darcy dipped his head. “I hope I will be a steadfast master of the estate. But I have a lot to learn.”
“Yes, yes! But there is time.” His father looked round the room, as if seeing his brother-in-law and nephew for the first time.
Darcy glanced round too, wondering if Wickham had pushed his way in, as well. But he wasn’t there, and the satisfied smirk on Richard’s face informed him it wasn’t an accident. His lips twitched and he turned back to his father, who waved them to the chairs clustered round the fire.
“Well, sit down! I want to hear everything that’s happened to you these last years — everything!” He turned to his nephew.
“Richard, pour us drinks, please. We must toast my prodigal son.”
Darcy smiled wryly. “You will be glad I have not gambled away your fortune like the original, sir.”
The earl laughed. “We’re very fortunate, George. It seems William has risen to the ranks of the respectable by dint of sheer hard work and determination. It is a thrilling tale.”
“William?” The old man’s voice s
hook. “Your mother always called you William.”
“It is a name I have become used to over the last years,” Darcy said gently. “I’m happy to discover it to be the name my mother used for me, and I’d like to ask you more about her, if it will not distress you too much.”
His father stared contemplatively into the fire. “It will need to be talked about.” His voice grew stronger, firmer. “But at this moment, I need to know what happened — all of it! Why have you been away for so long? And why have you returned now?”
The earl’s eyes flashed a warning and Darcy nodded very slightly before facing his father.
“I have told you about the attack. It seems I was very gravely injured, and when I was found, it was considered that I was unlikely to survive. I was taken in by a local resident, and cared for very well by the apothecary.” He knew anything he said would reach Wickham. He must protect the people who had helped him. “It was many weeks before I recovered my senses, and when I did, I could remember nothing of my past, or who I was.”
The earl leaned forward. “You must have found that distressing.”
“Strangely enough, I don’t recall being very disturbed by it — not then.” Darcy turned back to his father.
“It became apparent that I had nothing at all. Everything which might have identified me had been stripped away. It seemed I was destined for an unmarked grave.” He saw his father’s hands trembling, and tried to lighten things. He smiled. “A different option for my future was being discussed by those around me, but I wished to decide for myself. As soon as I was fit to do so, I left that place and made my way to a post inn, obtaining employment as a — rather old for the position — stable lad.”
Richard’s chuckle forced a reluctant smile from the older Darcy, who nodded at him to continue.
“I moved around from place to place, if things became difficult. My appearance and manner of speaking made many people uncomfortable. But I worked hard and was accepted eventually in one place, where I stayed for two years. Having learned the work, I was able to look around me. The good fortune of my obviously excellent education …” he bowed his head at his father, “… was a blessing. I was able to study discarded newspapers, and listen to conversations of society people when they stopped at the inns.” He stopped for a moment and sipped at the whisky, noting his own hands were trembling. He would have a disturbed night, he knew. The dark memories of the past crowded closer. He took comfort by thinking of Miss Bennet’s calm manner, even the thought of her could assist him.
The Lost Heir Page 14
