The Lost Heir

by Harriet Knowles

  The duchess’s expression turned glacial. “If I heard that from the servants, I would certainly have something to say to them!” She laughed humourlessly. “I’m sorry you wanted to leave without saying farewell, but I understand how much it would pain you.”

  She regarded the carriage and four critically. “But it is a good idea to leave at dawn. With good fortune, you will have fewer nights on the road. And I have put a book in your luggage for the Sabbath rest day. Mr. Baines will look after you the whole way.”

  “I am grateful to you for providing the coach and all the servants,” Elizabeth replied. “Especially your deputy steward. I will feel very safe.”

  “I have one thing to say to you, though.” The duchess sounded very serious, and Elizabeth turned to her in surprise, and the lady laughed.

  “Do not look so anxious. I wish to say that when Darcy comes to find you — and he will — please do not reject him out of hand.” The duchess caught her hand. “I know what you think about your family, but the Darcy and Fitzwilliam families are indebted to you for saving Miss Darcy. If any of them show disapprobation, I hope you will let me know, and I will receive you when I am next in London.”

  “Oh,” Elizabeth was almost lost for words. “Your Grace, I am honoured at your words, as well as your offer.” She turned to step into the carriage, but hesitated. “Please assist Mr. Darcy as well as you may. It is unimaginably hard to think how he must feel.”

  “Of course.” The duchess smiled agreeably, and Elizabeth climbed inside after the two maids. She pushed away the little quiver of fear. She was safe, there was no question of any danger any more.

  All she wanted to do was go home. Perhaps she could write to Jane and persuade her back to Longbourn — it was certain Mr. Bingley would reopen Netherfield if Jane did join her in the country.

  59

  Darcy descended the stairs, anxious to see for himself that Elizabeth was well. He had another day with her here today. And tomorrow — after seeing the sentence on Wickham carried out — surely she would have sympathy for him in the afternoon, and he might be able to show her of his care for her. And they could not start their journey until Sunday was over, so there would be another day here. Perhaps she would appreciate a walk in the park after services.

  Despite another restless night, he was ready to be what she needed him to be. But as he turned into the breakfast room he discovered his sister with red-rimmed eyes and a wretched expression, and a highly discomposed-looking cousin.

  The duke was studiously looking anywhere but at him, and he sat down beside Richard.

  “Have I grown a pair of horns, or something?” he murmured. “What have I done wrong — and where is Miss Bennet?”

  Richard looked as if he was unsure how his news would be received. “Her Grace has told us Miss Bennet left this morning. She was very anxious to go home, and we understand Her Grace talked to her at length last night and arranged the carriage to leave at dawn this morning so she would have the fewest possible overnight stops.”

  Darcy frowned. “Who has accompanied her? She will have the Sunday on her own and in a strange place? How can that be satisfactory?”

  Richard looked even more uneasy. “You cannot ride after her, Darcy. She doesn’t want you to, does she? Or she would have talked to you first. And we have the duty tomorrow …” he glanced over at Georgiana.

  “So has the duchess accompanied her?” Darcy had wondered why the lady wasn’t at breakfast, and suddenly felt rather better disposed towards her, if she would do that for Elizabeth.

  “No, of course not!” Richard seemed amused. “No, I believe she is resting and will be downstairs shortly. His Grace said she wished to speak to you.”

  Darcy glanced over at the duke, who was reading the newspaper with fierce — and quite false — concentration.

  Do I really want this sort of life? Darcy turned to his sister. “I’m sorry you’re unhappy, Georgiana. Perhaps we might take a turn in the garden as soon as you have finished your breakfast?”

  He wondered when his father and the earl would deign to appear for breakfast, and shook his head. When Georgiana had excused herself to get her coat, he turned to his cousin.

  “I will stay outside with Georgiana until after the fishing party has formed, Richard. Please tell them not to wait for me. After we come back indoors, I will be attending to my correspondence.”

  “Of course, although I cannot be held accountable if your father won’t accept it and has you called in.”

  Darcy raised an eyebrow. “Has he always been as stubborn?”

  Richard grimaced. “I don’t remember him being like this before your mother passed. After that, he became very rigid in his thinking — aided by Wickham, of course. Once he had something in his mind, there was never a chance of changing it.”

  Darcy sighed. It was going to be difficult to bring his father round to his way of thinking. “If you don’t join the party, we could meet in the drawing room for coffee, perhaps, and Georgiana will enjoy playing for us.”

  Richard’s mouth quirked. “You’re also tired of endless tea?”

  “I like coffee sometimes,” Darcy smiled, relieved the atmosphere was a bit lighter.

  As he sat at the writing desk in the drawing room, listening to Georgiana playing, he smiled slightly. She was certainly happier now Richard was sitting beside her, ready to turn the pages when she nodded at him.

  Darcy tightened his jaw and turned to his letter. It had been too many months since he’d written to Mr. Owen, and he could ride out later and send the letter from the post, so no one here would see the direction. He dipped his pen in the ink, and paused to think. Now Wickham was dealt with, he felt more secure.

  Perhaps he could go to Hampshire, find out if Mr. Owen was well, if any of his allowance could be well-used in assisting the man to whom he owed his life.

  Mr. Monson, too. He could assist the parish. He smiled, wondering if Mrs. Pedder was still housekeeper at the vicarage. Yes, he could go there. Twelve years was a long time. He wondered vainly how old they’d be now. They might have need of him.

  Perhaps Mr. Owen could give him some advice on how Elizabeth must feel. He’d been very astute when advising William as he recovered. He put the pen down. Yes, he’d go very soon. Georgiana would be content at Matlock house if Richard was there.

  “I’m happy you seem to have accepted what’s happened, Darcy.” The duchess had come into the room without him noticing, and he rose hastily to his feet, very glad he’d written nothing yet.

  “Good morning, Your Grace.” He didn’t know what else to say.

  She glanced at the desk. “I’d like it if you feel able to interrupt your letters for a few moments, Darcy, and take a turn on the terrace with me.”

  Her words were tantamount to an order, he knew. “I’d be delighted, Your Grace.” He turned back and replaced the lid on the ink bottle.

  They strolled several lengths of the terrace in silence, Darcy sunk in gloom, wondering what Elizabeth had told her. Perhaps she had a message that he ought not to have hopes for her.

  “I know this seems like a severe setback, Darcy,” the duchess said, eventually. “But I think she needs a little time to think about what’s happened to her.”

  He turned to her eagerly. “You think she will be well again?”

  It was the lady’s turn to look bemused. “She didn’t say she was unwell.”

  “No.” Darcy shook his head. “It is just that she seems to have lost her liveliness, her mischievous manner, which was so much part of her.”

  “Ah. Well, I suppose we can hardly be surprised it is the case. Not only was there the shock of what they went through when they were stolen away by Wickham, there was also the great responsibility she felt for your sister, as she felt she had been charged with her safety. She also knew, very certainly, that once she had served the purpose of enticing you into Wickham’s trap, she would not live long.” The duchess stopped at the end of the terrace, and gazed out at t
he far hills to the north.

  Darcy drew breath to speak, but she raised her hand. “I have not yet finished.”

  He set his jaw, and gazed out at the view, too, wishing he was strolling here with Elizabeth.

  “I believe once she has had the chance of talking everything through with her relations, it will seem clearer, and less devastating to her.” She smiled slightly. “She was so good at keeping an even manner and doing what is expected, it was hard to remember she is among strangers. I think she has a sister she very much relies on, and I believe she could think of little else than talking to her and going through her feelings.”

  Darcy felt a great sense of relief. Elizabeth wasn’t running away from him, she was running to her elder sister. And the sister was in London, because Bingley was there.

  The duchess touched his arm lightly. “Let’s continue to walk.” They turned together to stroll the length of the terrace again. “Take a little time to tidy things up, Darcy. Don’t go straight to find her.”

  He turned to her. “If I don’t go, she will think I don’t care for her.”

  “She’ll never think that,” the duchess laughed quietly. “You chased after her the length of England, put your life at risk to confront her abductor. Of course she knows of your affections. She is a very astute young lady.” She stared at the horizon. “You will have interesting lives.”

  Darcy smiled wryly. “I do not wish to wait a day longer than I have to. If I had not waited before this all happened, we might be married now, and my family would have had to accept her.”

  The older woman turned and faced him. “It is as well you are not. Your family might have accepted her merely under sufferance, and she might never have felt at ease.”

  She turned back to continue strolling along. “Use this time well, Darcy. Speak to your father and uncle about her. Make it clear they must accept her, if they wish you not to be estranged from them. She noticed they didn’t include her when they arrived here.”

  She smiled. “And, when the season starts in town this winter, I will receive her. Under my patronage, she cannot be considered unsuitable for you.”

  A warm feeling spread through him. “You approve of her?”

  “Without question.” The duchess didn’t hesitate. “Her family, however …” she shook her head.

  60

  There was nothing wrong with the presentation of this carriage. Darcy had looked it over carefully when it had arrived from Pemberley at his father’s order. Perhaps Richard had been exaggerating when he’d said the estate was less well managed than before.

  He sighed. It had been a long weekend. He’d managed to stand at the side of the crowd when the hangings were taking place, and he hoped Wickham hadn’t seen him. It would have been the height of cruelty. But the shouted imprecations, and the roar of the crowd, had sickened him, and as soon as it was over, he’d pushed his way out of the crowd.

  Richard seemed unaffected. But his time in the army had probably hardened him, and he admitted it as they returned to Blackwell Court.

  “What will you say to Georgiana?” His cousin seemed hesitant.

  Darcy shrugged. “I’ll tell her it’s over and she is safe. No more than that.”

  Sunday, and services. Lunch, and an afternoon pretending to read, wishing he was strolling in the gardens with Elizabeth.

  Now he had to go with his father to Pemberley, when all he wanted to do was go to London and find Elizabeth. At least Georgiana was returning to Matlock House with their uncle and cousin. He would not have to exert himself to entertain her.

  One hundred and fifty miles to Pemberley. He smiled; it was almost exactly halfway between London and Carlisle. They’d be two nights on the road; he doubted his father would be amenable to ride the coach for longer each day to get there more quickly.

  He wondered how Elizabeth had fared on her journey. She would be happy to arrive in Gracechurch Street, perhaps as early as tomorrow. Darcy thought he might write to Mr. Gardiner, and ask for news of her, even though he ought ostensibly to ask about the business.

  The first part of their journey passed in silence, and Darcy was happy to recall his conversation with the duchess. She’d been the last person to speak to Elizabeth at Blackwell Court, and hadn’t told him his hopes of her were in vain. It was one of the few bright thoughts he could hold.

  He stared out of the window, remembering happier times as he discussed business with her over endless cups of tea at her uncle’s warehouse. Those brief occasions when they’d been able to walk together had all been overshadowed by this huge change in his life, either the apprehension or the reality.

  He sighed. His father glanced over at him.

  “I’m looking forward to showing you Pemberley, son, and am hopeful you might begin to recall your childhood there.”

  Darcy forced a smile. “I am interested to see it. I don’t think I will recall my childhood, not now, but the opportunity to make new memories with you will be welcome.” He turned slightly to face him. “Perhaps you can tell me about it, so I am properly prepared.”

  His father needed no further urging, and began to describe the estate and its associated farms and villages. Darcy listened carefully, but not so much as to prevent having a small corner of his mind remember his father disapproved of Elizabeth, that he and the earl had made her feel uncomfortable.

  It wouldn’t be today. But at some point, perhaps during their stay at Pemberley, he would talk to his father, and make it perfectly clear that taking Elizabeth as his wife was far more important to him than Pemberley was. He smiled, it would be an interesting conversation.

  Three days later, Darcy strode out around the lake in front of Pemberley, his steward beside him.

  “Well, Mr. Reed, did you ever imagine a place of this size when, as Mr. Stoke, I first appointed you?”

  Reed chuckled. “Hardly, sir. I confess I had never seen or imagined such a place. It seems a strange tale.”

  “Indeed.” Darcy was glad his father had retired to bed, the journey having tired him greatly. He’d had to suffer the emotional greetings of the long-standing staff — Mrs. Reynolds, in particular.

  He’d smiled at her. “My sister has told me what a comfort you were to her, Mrs. Reynolds. Thank you.” The woman had been overwhelmed, and Darcy had taken the opportunity to say he wished to take a walk following the journey, and escaped outside.

  It was a great relief. Now he could talk to Reed, discuss with him what needed to be done.

  “My cousin told me that a number of staff moved on when they thought Wickham would be taking the estate after marrying my sister. I need to find out who they were, and whether their replacements are competent.”

  “Yes, Mr. Darcy.”

  “I had it in mind for you to be steward here when I inherit, but am now of the opinion that I will still need a personal steward.” He frowned. It was difficult.

  “There is nothing to be discomposed about, sir. If the steward here is competent, there might be bad feeling if I was to take the job, inexperienced as I am.”

  “I suppose it is a valid point, although I would contest your assertion of being inexperienced.” Darcy heaved a sigh and walked on round the lake. Elizabeth would love it here.

  “Nothing has to be decided at once, Mr. Darcy. As the staff now know you have returned to claim your birthright, there will be no further attrition, and you can take the time to learn about estate management and what it requires from you.” Reed smiled. “And there is much you wish to complete for Mr. Stoke, I think.”

  Darcy glanced over. “Yes, you’re right. I have decided I will not stay here longer than a week, no matter how my father importunes me. I wish to go to Hampshire, where I was first found, and seek out those who helped me.”

  “I thought you would wish to do that, as soon as you judged it safe.” Reed’s calm demeanour enabled Darcy to stop and look around.

  “It’s very beautiful. But difficult to imagine I may one day live here, that this might be m
y home.” But only if Elizabeth is beside me.

  “Rather different from your chamber at the Swan, sir.” Reed was grinning at him.

  Darcy laughed. “Certainly.”

  It was with a lighter heart that he turned back to the house. He could examine the ledgers while he waited for his father to recover from the journey. At least some of his hard work in the past would help him now.

  And, soon, he would find Elizabeth. His imagination conjured her to his side, and he could feel the heat of her hand on his arm. He permitted the fantasy a moment longer, enjoying her gentle smile, and the affection in her eyes, before forcing his attention back to the present moment. It seemed an eternity before he would be able to see her again.

  61

  Elizabeth climbed briskly up the hill behind Longbourn, her heart lighter now she was home. She’d been back for several days now, and each day she’d wandered the familiar paths. She was ashamed to admit how out of practice she’d been; so breathless she’d had to tumble down on the mossy banks to rest.

  But now, it was all beginning to improve, and her long rambles afforded her the peace and solitude she craved for hours at a time.

  She stopped before she reached the trees, and looked back at Longbourn house, the warm pinkish sandstone looking more peaceful than it had any right to, given the chaos she’d found within.

  Elizabeth shook her head and turned back to the peaceful woods. Perhaps Jane would arrive home soon, she’d written to her on the first night stop from Carlisle.

  Dearest Jane

  I am on my way home. Finally, I have been able to persuade the duchess to provide a carriage, and I’m returning to Longbourn. To be honest, I cannot wait to be among family. The only person I will miss is you, dear Jane. But I cannot face returning to London, not yet. The memory of Mr. Darcy will be all around me there.