Mr. Darcy's Forbidden Love

by Brenda Webb

  “Certainly, if that is your desire. I love you both, and I am at your disposal.”

  William indicated that they should walk, and they headed towards the foyer, talking quietly. “Would now be convenient?”

  “Yes.”

  They had no more than reached the foyer, when Georgiana met them at the bottom of the steps.

  “Brother, have you heard from Miss Elizabeth since she returned to her aunt’s home? Is she well? Will she be visiting again soon?” The pained look on her brother’s face silenced her, and her entire demeanour changed. She looked from him to her aunt fearfully.

  William reached for her hand. “Sweetling, I have not heard from Elizabeth, and I have no idea if she will be allowed to visit us again. I pray she will, but we shall have to wait and see. However, there is something of great importance that your aunt and I need to discuss with you. Would you be so kind as to come to my study?”

  Her brow furrowed. “Your study? What is the matter?”

  Lady Ashcroft stepped forward, the palm of her hand caressing her cheek. “Georgiana, dearest, we shall explain all once we are in the study.”

  A timid smile reappeared. “It seems I have no choice.”

  William left orders that they were not to be disturbed. This time no raised voices could be heard in the hallway, though they did not depart the room for the greater part of an hour.

  ~~~*~~~

  One hour later

  Audrey sat in the corner of the large upholstered sofa that faced the windows of William’s study. Normally the beautiful view would have lifted her spirits, but not today. In her arms she held Georgiana, the girl’s head lying against her chest. She comforted her niece by running her hands through her long curls and whispering endearments. Weeping steadily since learning of Landingham’s confession, it now appeared that Georgiana had exhausted her tears, and they were to be replaced by sporadic sniffles.

  It had been quite a blow for her to learn that her mother had had an affair with her godfather and that he, not George Darcy, was her father. Upset to see his sister’s distress, William had become so overwrought that Audrey had asked him to take a walk about the park to calm himself. It was obvious that he did not want to comply, but reluctantly, he had left to do just that. And once they were alone, Georgiana had poured out her heart, saying those things which would have only further upset her brother were he still there.

  “Why? Why would anyone act in such a manner, especially my own parents? To break their marriage vows? And why would Father let Fitzwilliam pay for his sins with Gisela by marrying her?”

  She burst into tears, stuttering, “I for… forgot he is not my fa… father!”

  “There, there,” Audrey cooed, rocking her more vigorously. “You must calm yourself, Georgiana. Try to think rationally. I believe you have seen enough unhappy alliances in your short lifetime to know that most marriages are just that—alliances. They are formed to accomplish a purpose, rather than because of any great love. More often than not, despite managing to birth an heir or more, the parties go their separate ways.”

  “But I thought my mother and father were in love.”

  “I remember when they married, and I truly believe that they were then. However, the cares of life sometime cause people to fall out of love. There is a lesson to be learned in this. Marriage is something to be nurtured and not neglected.”

  “But why did it have to happen to me—to my parents?”

  “Should it happen to someone else? Lady Strongham perhaps? Or are you speaking of your friend, Lady Horton, whose father deserted her and her mother to reside with his mistress?”

  “Of course not! You know that is not what I meant.”

  “I am only pointing out that life is not fair and that rain falls on the just and the unjust. You have heard your brother’s explanation of what caused their marriage to falter. Your father made a poor decision in regards to your mother’s health, which basically was to abandon her. And, Anne, bless her, was ruled by a desire to have more children.”

  “In my heart I understand all of Fitzwilliam’s explanations—Mother’s fragile health and Father’s weaknesses. I can even forgive my parents’ mistakes, but I can never accept them as reason to break their vows.”

  “If it makes you feel any better, your brother feels the same.”

  “Does he hate our godfather? For I worry that I shall come to hate him for deceiving me all these years.”

  Audrey took her niece’s face in her hands, searching the depths of her blue eyes for understanding. “I have not had time to talk to Fitzwilliam about his feelings toward Marshall, but I know him well enough to know that he could never hate him.” Georgiana looked embarrassed and her eyes fell. “Fitzwilliam would never forget all the years that he has been like a father to him, and you, or that he almost died saving you from Wickham.”

  A lone tear slipped down Georgiana’s face and she sniffled again.

  “And you know that Marshall did not purposefully deceive you. Your mother had him swear never to tell anyone he was your father. And in spite of all the obstacles in his path, he managed to be a steadfast presence in your life and has shown you and your brother an unwavering love.”

  “But… but he was not forthcoming with the truth.”

  “Knowing him as you do, do you not think that it must have broken his heart not to be able to tell the world that you were his child? For, if you think of it, he has no offspring but you. And if I remember correctly, Anne said that it was he who taught you to ride and to swim, even to fish, not George. I would say he has tried to be like a father to you all along.”

  Sitting up straighter, Georgiana began wiping the tears from her cheeks. “I… I know you are correct, and I am sorry that it fell to you to remind me of his love for me. I do not believe I would have gotten quite as angry if I did not love him, too. I thought he could do no wrong, and I placed him on a pedestal.”

  “But pedestals are hard places to live— there is so little room to manoeuvre without falling off.”

  Georgiana saw that her aunt was teasing. She began to smile. “I never thought about it, but I suppose they are. Everything I have learned today has been painful to hear, and it will be hard to contemplate that Lord Landingham is now my father, though I must. Would it be possible not to see him until I sort it all out? Do you think he will understand?”

  “I am certain he will. Why not write him a note and tell him how you feel?”

  “I shall.” She touched her aunt’s cheek. “Most of all I regret the effect all this may have on your relationship with him.”

  “Do not let that trouble you,” Audrey interjected. “That is the last thing you should take into account. Instead, concentrate on the bond you have always shared with him and how to establish your future relationship.”

  “I will.”

  “Now, what shall you do about your brother? You were very harsh with him.”

  “I shall find him and apologise. I should not have shouted at him, but I was just so upset that he would ruin his life for my sake! Why did he not just tell me the truth and toss Gisela to the street?”

  “You must look at it from his perspective. You were only twelve and deeply affected by your parent’s death. He worried that learning you were not George Darcy’s child might destroy what little stability you had left. He was not willing to take that risk, so he made a decision that effectively put it off until you were older. Had the roles been reversed, I have no doubt you would have done the same.”

  She turned to look into her aunt’s eyes. “Still, I feel responsible for all his misery, and I love him so much…” She could not finish, but instead bit her lip to keep from weeping anew.

  “How often have I said that you are not responsible for the actions of others, Georgiana? We must all answer for our own deeds and nothing more. Other than caring advice, none of us can affect another’s decisions once they reach a certain age. That is why it is imperative to ‘bring up a child in the nurture and admonition of
the Lord.’17 If they are raised with Godly values, they are less likely to fall into the predicaments that plague those who have no religious foundation.”

  Standing to her feet, Georgiana began to wipe her face and smooth her hair. “Do I look presentable? I would like to go find Fitzwilliam and apologise.”

  “After you slip on your bonnet, you will look perfectly fine. I am sure that Mr. Withers would enjoy a walk in the park, he is always eager to walk out when I feel the urge to stretch my legs. Why do you not ask Mr. Barnes to send for him?”

  Georgiana smiled shyly, “I shall, and Aunt?”

  By this time Audrey Ashcroft had risen and was smoothing her skirts. “Yes?”

  “Thank you for always knowing what to say. Brother tries hard to understand me, but he is a man, after all. I do not know what I would do without you. You are so dear to me.”

  Audrey hugged Georgiana, placing a kiss on her forehead. “And you are just as dear to me.” Composing herself, she added, “Now, run along if you are determined to locate your brother. It is getting late, and I am sure that Cook has dinner almost prepared.”

  As Georgiana walked away, Audrey’s thoughts returned to the man she loved with all her heart—Marshall Landingham. Could she abide by the advice she had given her niece?

  Think of the bond you shared with him and how to establish your future relationship.

  Could she accept that he had once loved Anne? Searching her heart, she could not make sense of all the emotions that swirled within it. Recognising the futility of knowing her own heart at this point, she felt she had no choice but to delay talking to Marshall until she did. Slowly, she made her way to her rooms, all the while wondering if she would ever be certain of anything again.

  The partial letters that Landingham had purloined from Gisela’s house were still lying on her dresser. She had known that she would want to read them again when she was alone. And that is what she did.

  ~~~*~~~

  Grantham Townhouse

  Mr. Boatwright made his way gingerly past the Mistress, meaning to place the letter that had just been delivered on her desk without waking her. As usual, Gisela Darcy had fallen asleep on the sofa in her study without bothering to return to her bedroom the night before. A half-empty bottle of brandy sat on the floor next to her.

  After he placed the missive in plain sight, he turned to leave, stopping to take one last look at her to be sure that she was breathing. He shook his head, thinking to himself that she looked no better than most of the whores on the Mint. 18

  He was tiptoeing out of the room when she sat up and called out. “What the devil are you doing?

  “I… I was trying not to wake you, madam,” he answered, disappointed to have been caught.

  Gisela placed her legs on the floor as she raised both arms towards the ceiling and stretched. “I was just taking a nap. Why were you in here?”

  “There was a letter delivered this morning. I placed it on the desk.”

  Gisela flew to the desk and picked up the letter. “Who is it from? Why did you not tell me immediately?”

  “There is nothing to indicate who sent it, and last night you told me not to—”

  “Quiet! I cannot think with all your babbling!”

  Boatwright dropped his head and waited while she broke the seal and read the message she recognised as written by Wickham’s hand though it was unsigned.

  Madam,

  A stroke of good luck! Having my associate watch Darcy’s house has been profitable. He observed Elizabeth Bennet leave the residence in Darcy’s carriage and followed her. She is now residing on Gracechurch Street. I have moved the surveillance to this residence, which I understand belongs to her uncle, a man named Gardiner, who is in trade.

  According to my contacts, the maid next door claims Miss Bennet is fond of walking in the park across the street very early in the morning. If this is true, it will make my job almost effortless. Should she walk out tomorrow morning, I shall have her at Stillwater before noon!

  I suggest you leave town before Darcy finds out she is missing! I will see you again at the estate.

  Finally she looked up at the butler. “Have you shipped those trunks that I had packed yesterday? The ones to Weymouth?”

  “Yes, madam.”

  “Good. Have my coach readied to leave at dawn. Oh, and have that new maid— what is her name?”

  “Daisy?”

  “Yes, have her pack the rest of my clothes. I shall be leaving tomorrow, but only the usual servants shall attend me—Grimsby, Grady, you know the others.”

  Boatwright knew the ones she referred to—those that more closely resembled the riffraff that normally loitered outside his brother’s pub, without a farthing to buy a pint, than a proper servant. Why she wanted to surround herself with such people was beyond his imagination.

  With that pronouncement, Gisela swept out of the room like she was the Queen and proceeded up the grand staircase, halting half-way to turn and call, “Mr. Boatwright!”

  Since he had moved to the foyer to watch her leave, he quickly answered, “Madam?”

  “I suggest that you and Mrs. Boatwright take that trip you were planning.” At his confused look, she added, “Some time ago you mentioned wanting to visit your son. I am going on a long trip and will not be back for several months… perhaps longer. Leave a note with your address, and I shall send for you upon my return.” Without another word from either party, she continued up the stairs and disappeared at the top.

  The elderly man sighed and went in search of his wife. Perhaps they would do just that. He had managed to save enough to move to Yorkshire where his son lived, and he had had enough of Mrs. Darcy to last a lifetime.

  ~~~*~~~

  Chapter 40

  Gracechurch Street

  Gardiner Residence

  Elizabeth could not breathe. The air in the bedroom she shared with Jane was stifling due to the humidity and the fact that the window had not been opened because of the rain. She felt she simply must have some fresh air, and the only solution, in her opinion, was to go for a walk. Glancing out the window, she noted that the entire world still seemed cloaked in a drab grey, though it had to be nearly dawn. It was obvious that the sun would not break through the clouds today.

  Nevertheless, she was determined that the lack of sunshine would not keep her from the park. At least within its borders she felt liberated, and she had not felt such freedom since she had been placed under John Wilkens’ power by her uncle. Shivering involuntarily at the thought of that horrible man, Elizabeth forced herself to think instead of the one who made her smile.

  Fitzwilliam did say that he would be in the park no matter how early I walk out.

  Donning her white muslin gown, she pulled on a dark green spencer, a pair of tan kidskin gloves and her short, brown walking boots. She stopped to examine Jane’s bonnet which lay on the dresser exactly where she had discarded it yesterday. Having no idea where her own had disappeared, Elizabeth thought that it would likely come in handy since it was raining and she had no parasol. With one last glance at her sleeping sister, she placed the purloined item on her head and stole out of the bedroom and down the stairs.

  Taking for granted that Mr. James, the elderly footman, would not yet be awake to accompany her, she wondered if she could be so fortunate as not to encounter any servants as she made her escape, especially Mrs. Doane. Elizabeth had no use for that nosy woman, never doubting that the housekeeper would awaken the entire house if she discovered her intentions. Fully aware that there would be a price to pay should her family awaken to find her missing, she decided she must take the chance. She had no reason to believe that her father would let her go out alone, and she simply had to see Fitzwilliam once more… and not with Papa looking over my shoulder.

  As she approached the front door, the muffled sound of something being dropped on the thick carpet in the dining room drew her attention. It was followed by an incomprehensible oath sworn by Mrs. Doane. Stiffening, Elizab
eth stood absolutely still until she was sure that that woman would not materialise right before her eyes. Then saying a silent prayer of thanksgiving as all became quiet once more, she slipped out of the door completely undetected.

  A sombre and breathless calm accompanied the misting rain, and for a brief moment, she stood motionless, profoundly affected by the dreariness. How she wished for a sunny day to raise her spirits! Nevertheless, as she took a deep breath, Elizabeth realised that at least the air smelled cleaner, and that made the dampness a bit more bearable. Beginning to walk in the drizzle, she was also thankful that she had decided in favour of borrowing Jane’s bonnet, an item that she normally avoided because it obstructed her view. Smiling to herself, she remembered how Fitzwilliam had begged her not to wear one.

  Your face is too beautiful to hide beneath anything, especially a wide brimmed bonnet. I want to see your eyes, nay, your entire face, whenever we are together.

  Though she did not think herself beautiful in the least, the remembrance of his entreaty made her heart swell. She could not hold back a smile as her footsteps became lighter, and she almost skipped as she increased her pace towards the park.

  Finally having crossed the lane, she reached the gate that led to the trail that she always enjoyed exploring, and as she traversed the familiar territory, her shoulders began to relax. All at once, the misting rain came to a complete stop, so she untied the ribbons that held the bonnet, removed it entirely and began to swing it by the gaily coloured streamers.

  Occupied by more pleasant thoughts, she was totally unaware that someone waited only yards ahead, just off the pathway. His clothes were dark, and he blended into the trees, which also conspired to hide his presence. His hat was pulled down over his face which made him look ominous and a sense of foreboding possessed her when she eventually spied him.