The Lost Heir

by Harriet Knowles

  The duchess smiled at Georgiana. “It is a good point Miss Bennet makes, dear. Ring the bell for some tea, and afterwards I think we might all take a turn about the gardens for some fresh air. I don’t think we’ll hear anything until much later in the day.”

  But now it was late afternoon, and the door opening must herald news, surely?

  It did.

  She rose to her feet as all the gentlemen entered together, and her gaze at once went to Mr. Darcy. He seemed as impassive as ever, but she could see lines of strain at the corners of his eyes, and his expression was empty.

  “Well, Anna, my dear, we seemed to have arrived in time to join you for tea!” The duke seemed full of bonhomie as he crossed to his wife and lifted her hand to his lips.

  Elizabeth wondered what it would be like to feel Mr. Darcy’s full lips on the back of her hand, and heat burned her where his touch would be. She bent her head quickly, knowing her face flamed.

  She knew the others would be curious to hear the story, but she didn’t want to; she wanted to change the subject and take the hurt from Mr. Darcy’s eyes.

  She smiled at him as he took a seat near her. “I expect you’ll be glad of some tea — or perhaps something stronger.”

  He forced a smile. “I think tea is expected now, and the something stronger will be for when we have dined.”

  She nodded. “We’ve had it easier, perhaps. We took a turn in the garden earlier, and it was restful.”

  He nodded. “I may be able to excuse myself later and go out there.”

  “Miss Bennet,” the duchess called over to her. “His Grace has asked if you would play for us, if you are willing to.”

  Elizabeth rose to her feet. “Of course, Your Grace. It is no imposition to play such a beautiful instrument.” She smiled at Mr. Darcy.

  “You can pretend to be lost in the music, and will not have to make conversation.”

  She played for a long time, glancing over at him occasionally. The three older gentlemen left the room after a while, and Colonel Fitzwilliam made easy conversation with his hostess and Georgiana. Mr. Darcy sat with his eyes closed, his head on one side, apparently listening.

  Finally, the duchess beckoned her over. “Thank you, Miss Bennet. You play very well. But now, I think it is time we retire before dinner.”

  Elizabeth followed the other ladies demurely from the room; but as she glanced at Mr. Darcy, he met her gaze deliberately, and then looked at the window. She smiled slightly — was he going to stroll in the garden if he was ready early?

  She hurried to complete her toilette, and, asking the maid to follow her, slipped down the stairs, thankful the weather was warm. The rest of the party was upstairs, still preparing to dine, and she slipped through the door and strolled, apparently aimlessly, to the rose garden.

  If Mr. Darcy happened to pass by, she was chaperoned and ready.

  She knew he was there, somehow, before she turned at the end of the path, and smiled before she turned.

  “Miss Bennet.” His crooked smile made her heart turn over. “I see you must have been ready early, too.”

  She curtsied. “We are used to busier lives, perhaps.”

  “May I walk with you?” He indicated the path. They strolled along in silence for a while, and Elizabeth thought she didn’t need to break the companionable silence. It was good to have time to think.

  But it was doing her composure no good at all. She knew he was hoping to make her an offer, but he ought not. Although it would break her heart to refuse him, she knew he must take his place fully within this level of society before he ought to think of marriage, especially from outside his social sphere.

  And if she ought to refuse him, then she ought not to be out here, walking with him, however sweet this forbidden torture was.

  “Miss Bennet, I was hoping very much to be able to speak to you.” His features twisted slightly. “It seems to be much more difficult to have time together in this sort of party than it was in easier times back at Cheapside.”

  She forced a smile. “They were good times, and I confess I enjoyed every moment, learning and planning business matters with you.” She strolled on. How could she make him understand that things were different now, and he ought not to make her an offer? She wanted to make him understand before she had to refuse him directly.

  “But this is your new life, Mr. Darcy. It has not been an easy time for you, and you ought not to think this is how lives are usually lived at this level.” She met his eyes. “Your appearance, your bearing, your education — they’ve all fitted you to take your place in this sort of society. And you will find things are easier now you are safe.”

  His eyes were hooded. “None of it means anything. I don’t believe there is the sort of connection between people we knew, and little of the sort of respect I have for you, your uncle, and others who helped me.”

  “I think you have to give it time, sir.” Elizabeth knew she wasn’t saying it very well. “What I mean is that you ought, perhaps, to give your family, and these people, more opportunity to become truly your family.”

  She lifted her eyes to his. “I am very grateful to you for saving me from him, and it has taken a great toll on you. But you know I am well. I want to go home, take time to rest and recover, and I think you ought also take time to consider, and discover who you really are — and what you really want, without being bound to something before you know whether it is the right thing to do.”

  There was a world of pain in his eyes. “I know what I want, Miss — Elizabeth.”

  She shook her head. “I understand.” Her heart was breaking. “I am more sorry than you can know that I have to hurt you. But I think you need to wait. Don’t decide now.” She forced a smile.

  “You haven’t even met my family yet. Yours will feel that mine are rude and vulgar. No … you must not argue. You haven’t met my parents, or my other sisters.” She turned and began walking again. “They are my family, and I love them, even though I know their behaviour is not what is approved of. Take time. Learn to love your family, for you have not felt the love of family for many years.”

  She drew a deep breath, and looked up at him. “If — if in six months you feel the same, you will know where to find me.” She turned back to the gateway. “And now I will go in. I think I will be indisposed at dinner.” She hoped acutely the duchess would have arranged something to enable her to go home very soon.

  As she walked away, she knew he was watching her, still in silence.

  57

  Darcy watched her turn the corner of the walled garden, the maid hurrying to keep up with her. He had not the slightest idea what to do now.

  How could he live without her? Even six months would be an eternity. How could he walk into this house, sit and dine with strangers — because that is what they were — and know his whole world was once more not what he knew?

  He turned out of the rose garden, and walked thoughtfully over the grass towards the stream. She must have thought it would be easier for him if she wasn’t dining downstairs tonight.

  Reluctantly, he supposed it would be. But the pain of her loss was indescribable. Why had she done this? Why?

  Was it because he hadn’t shown her he was able to love someone? How could he demonstrate such love when he could not even court her? She knew he’d had no family, no one to rely on since the incident that had robbed him of his memory. She knew of his warm respect for her uncle, knew of his respect for the staff at the warehouse. What more did she want?

  Footsteps gritted on the path behind him — had she changed her mind? His heart leapt, before it crashed down again. The sound was of booted feet. A man. He didn’t turn, he didn’t want to speak to his cousin, or his uncle, father, or the duke. He glowered at the stream in the gathering dusk.

  “You have about ten minutes, sir, before you are expected indoors. We could walk along the stream a little way.” Reed’s voice was calm and steadied him.

  “I’m not hungry.”

&n
bsp; “I can understand it. But you ought to appear, otherwise you might be the subject of speculation.”

  “I will be a laughing stock.”

  “No. They may not understand, but I don’t think anyone will feel it amusing.”

  “Why, Mr. Reed? Why?” Darcy turned to the man who was the closest thing to a confidant he had available to him. It didn’t matter he was a paid servant, they had developed a close rapport over the last months — something else these high-society people could never understand.

  Reed shook his head. “I don’t know, sir. All I can tell you is the young lady has not done this because she does not care. I happened to see her as she was making her excuses to Her Grace.”

  “Somehow I’ve been the cause of her distress, Mr. Reed.” Darcy was troubled.

  “There must be a reason she thinks this is the best for you, sir.” Reed glanced at him. “She has not done this for herself.”

  Darcy shrugged. “I would wish she thought I knew what was best for me.” At the other man’s chuckle, he smiled reluctantly. “I thought we could be happy together. I want nothing more than to give her everything she could wish for.”

  “Did she give you hope for the future, sir? Was there any clue of what she wishes you to discover?”

  Darcy frowned. “I suppose she did. But I cannot bear to talk of it tonight.” He gazed back at the house. “I suppose I ought to return to the join the rest of the party.”

  Darcy joined them as dinner was called. He supposed the duchess had given Elizabeth’s excuses before he had arrived, for no one remarked on her absence.

  He sat through the meal, not really concentrating on the conversation, and contributing nothing. It was not until the ladies retired, that he realised Richard was glancing at him. But there were five of them round the table, and he doubted any private words would be possible.

  There was silence as the port was solemnly passed from one to the other. Darcy poured a little into his glass, trying not to scowl. What a performance all this was! More and more he wished he’d never been reintroduced to this life.

  “I don’t think it is appropriate for us all to attend with Darcy on Saturday.” The duke was speaking. “Will you go with your cousin, Colonel? Or do you think you ought to, Matlock?”

  Darcy frowned and looked at him. “I was thinking it might be better if Richard and his father went — it seems to me it would be an arrogant triumphalism of mine for him to know I am watching his end.” He shrugged. “But, if you decide it so, I will go. I do not mind going alone with my steward.” He’d rather that, in fact.

  “I won’t hear of it.” Richard sat up straighter, and Darcy tightened his jaw. His cousin would undoubtedly want to talk about Elizabeth and ask what had happened, because it must be obvious to all of them that something untoward had occurred.

  “It is settled.” The duke nodded at him, and turned to the earl. “So we have a day to fill first. Perhaps we might set up a fishing party?”

  Darcy glared at the port in his glass. Such pointless, empty lives! And his own would be the same, if he wasn’t careful. But if the other gentlemen were out at sport, he could decline — say he had letters to write. He might have the opportunity to speak to Elizabeth. Surely she would change her mind if she knew he needed her by his side as he navigated his way to creating a satisfying and useful life.

  He must prove to her he could function as well as those born into such a family, could offer her the evidence that he could be a good and loving husband and father.

  He smiled slightly. He had another day — and several days when they would be staying at the same inn when he was escorting her and his sister back to London.

  He would certainly make good use of the opportunity. He recalled the moment earlier that afternoon when the duke had kissed his wife’s hand. Darcy could imagine the moment when he would have the right to bow over Elizabeth’s hand. His lips pulsed with the imagined heat of her skin, and he looked down hastily, that no one see his sudden flush. He could barely wait until the morning.

  58

  “Come in!” Elizabeth doubted the maid would return for the tray yet. Georgiana would not like to leave the drawing room. It must be the duchess, and she stifled a sigh.

  “Thank you, my dear.” The duchess glanced round the chamber. “I hope you’ve been comfortable here, and it’s not to do with anything lacking that you wish to leave.”

  Elizabeth looked down. “I’m sure you know it is not that, Your Grace. This room is wonderfully comfortable, and you have been graciousness itself.”

  The august lady sat down opposite her at the little table by the window. She glanced at the tray disapprovingly. “It seems you also had little appetite, Miss Bennet.” She shook her head, dissatisfied. “No, I pray you allow me to call you Elizabeth. Miss Bennet is much too formal for what I wish to talk to you about.”

  Elizabeth looked at her hands. “Whatever pleases Your Grace.”

  There was a slight silence, and eventually Elizabeth knew she had to look up. The duchess was looking at her consideringly. She shook her head, and smiled. “Perhaps you could ring to order tea for us, and the maid can take this tray away as well.”

  Elizabeth rose to her feet and crossed to the fireplace to ring for the servant. When she returned to her chair, she decided it was time for her to speak. “I hope Georgiana was not too discomposed at being left alone to await the gentlemen?”

  A slight smile graced the lady’s features. “She is not alone, Elizabeth. I have left her in the company of my own companion. She could encourage the most reticent of ladies to conversation.”

  Elizabeth permitted herself to smile. “I’m glad to hear it.”

  “But I don’t want to permit your distraction to work, my dear. I want to know a little more of why you feel you need to leave here quite so precipitately.” The duchess looked rather disturbed. “I hope no one has made you feel uncomfortable, or pressed unwanted attentions upon you?”

  “Oh, no!” Elizabeth was aghast. “There has been nothing like that, Your Grace!” She shifted on her seat. “Nothing at all. Everyone has been perfectly proper.”

  “Good. I’m sorry I felt the need to enquire.” The lady was not giving up. “But I must ask what transpired between you and Mr. Darcy before dinner. I think he ate even less than you did.”

  Elizabeth swallowed. “I’m sorry to hear it, Your Grace.” She wouldn’t be drawn to gossip about what had occurred between them.

  “He loves you, you know.” The words pierced her, and Elizabeth raised her eyes to the duchess.

  “I know. But I must leave here, or it is not fair to expect him to remain.”

  “He will have to stay until after Saturday, at the very earliest,” the duchess nodded at the maid as the girl carefully set the tray down. “Now, let’s see if you can manage a pastry along with this cup of tea.”

  Elizabeth forced a smile, and took a slice onto her plate, although she doubted she’d be able to manage even a mouthful. There was no doubt more discomfort to come, and there would not be long to wait. She was right.

  The duchess perched her plate on the edge of the table. “Did you refuse his offer?”

  Elizabeth nearly spilled her tea, and it took a few moments for her to recover her equilibrium. “No, Your Grace. I felt it important to try and make him understand an offer would not be welcomed and save what I could of his pride before he made it.”

  The duchess leaned forward. “Might you help me understand why you wouldn’t welcome an offer from him? It seems to me you have affection for him, and he clearly holds you in the highest regard.” A mischievous smile crossed her features, unexpected in such an august personage. “And you cannot accuse him of not being entirely eligible!”

  Elizabeth looked away again. The duchess was a kind lady, and her mannerisms were like those of Aunt Gardiner. But she wasn’t her aunt. She was a stranger, and Elizabeth didn’t know if she would even keep her confidences. She drew a deep breath.

  “I am not
from a suitable background, Your Grace,” she said firmly. “You have seen the way his father and the earl have looked at me. Mr. Darcy has only recently discovered who he is, and he must take his place amongst that family. And amongst the highest in the land.” She smiled slightly. “People like you and your family.”

  She swallowed and stood up, crossing to the window. “It is very hard for him, I think, to discover he is not who he thought he was, and perhaps feeling as if all he has striven to accomplish over the last decade has been wasted. Having the disapprobation of his family about me will merely add to his difficulties and discomfort. It would add materially to his divided loyalties, which are already strained. I would not willingly do that to him.”

  She stared out of the window, keeping her back to the lady, no matter how rude it might appear. She would not cry, she would not! She blinked furiously.

  A quiet movement beside her, and she knew the duchess had come to stand there. “Very well, Elizabeth. Thank you for explaining it to me, and I understand why you wish to leave here. Do you want to return to London, or go back to your parents?”

  “I’d like to return to Hertfordshire, Your Grace, if it can be arranged without causing you too much trouble.” Elizabeth was suddenly certain this family had examined her background as thoroughly as the Darcy and Matlock families had. She smiled slightly; the duchess had not demurred her declaration that her background was unsuitable. “May I ask how soon I might be able to go?”

  At dawn the next morning, Elizabeth stood watching the servants as they loaded a small travelling case into the small carriage. She glanced at the lady standing beside her.

  “Thank you for arranging for me to have at least a few items to ensure my comfort on the journey, Your Grace. I believe the innkeepers might look at me askance if I arrived with no luggage at all!”