by Leenie Brown
“What of her features?” asked Georgiana.
A bit of warmth crept up his neck. “I should think this is inappropriate to discuss.”
“I find it perfectly acceptable in a lesson situation such as this. Do you not agree, Mrs. Ainsley?” said Lady Sophia.
“Indeed.”
He darted a look toward Mary. “Of course, I would wish for a wife who is fair. One that is pretty if not beautiful. But truly, as much as this sounds like an answer given to placate, it is the character of the lady which shines through her words and actions that is most attractive; however, I do not wish to marry someone who is old and fat with warts and poor hygiene.” He smiled. “Whatever other physical attributes I prefer, I shall not disclose.” Again his eyes darted toward Mary. She was very different from the ladies he had courted in the past, and yet she drew his attention and engaged his whole being more than any had ever done. Three days, he told himself once again. Three days and then his heart and mind would once again be safely under his regulation.
Chapter 7
For the next three days, Rycroft attempted to keep to his study, but although his mind told him to focus on his business and to avoid his mother and her charge, his feet refused to obey. More often than not, he found himself sitting in the music room, listening to Mary play or in the sitting room reading a book and chuckling softly at her grumbles while she worked on some stitch that was trying her patience. And then there were the required dance practice and two more rides in the park. It had been a most enjoyable three days aside from the constant twisting of his heart and the ever-present growing dislike for Blackmoore, who had come to call on each and every one of those three days.
There had been the pleasant diversion of seeing Bingley and Jane along with her sister Kitty and Aunt Gardiner. It was Bingley who now stood at the door, instructing how the bags were to be transported. Rycroft stood to the side, listening to Kitty telling Georgiana about the gowns that Jane had ordered and the new one that she had been allowed to have made. He knew that Mary’s order of dresses would be arriving soon and that the two that had arrived were safely packed into her trunk, for Georgiana had insisted that they be taken to Meryton and worn.
“I think everything is secured,” said Bingley.
The unsettled feeling that had begun this morning when Rycroft saw Mary’s trunk waiting near the door began to grow, and he thought for a moment he might cast up his accounts. It was just another of the inexplicable things he had endured in the past week. Taking Bingley by the arm, he led him down the hall a short distance. “Your sister,” he began.
Bingley smiled broadly. “You would like to offer for her?”
“No.” He said it so quickly and forcefully that Bingley could not help laughing.
“Then it is her behaviour that has caused an issue?”
“Not today,” said Rycroft, “but the other day at the museum, she and her friends were quite unpleasant to Miss Mary.”
Bingley sighed. “If you are worried that it will continue, I can assure you it will not matter the punishments I put in place.”
Rycroft nodded. “I understand you cannot control her actions, but they caused Miss Mary to be distraught, and if you could perhaps just…” he paused and dropped his gaze to the floor “…perhaps just make sure she is not made too uncomfortable during your journey?”
Bingley’s eyes grew wide, and he blinked several times. “Miss Mary?”
“She is a friend, and I am concerned for her. It is nothing more.” At least that is what he was attempting to make himself believe.
“Of course.” Bingley’s smile and tone of voice spoke of his disbelief. “She will have her sisters as well as mine. All will be well.”
“Right.” Rycroft nodded. The information did nothing to relieve his growing unease, but he followed Bingley to the sitting room and made what he hoped was a good show of being delighted to have his home just a little less filled with ladies.
“Thank you,” said Mary as she left the room. “You have been a very patient and gracious host.”
He smiled. “Mostly. I did have a rough start.”
“But you have improved.”
“Do you not fear I will fall back into my oafish ways without your influence?” She laughed and assured him that she would return soon to correct any habits that insisted upon returning. He took her hand and tucked it into the crook of his arm to escort her to the carriage. It was only after they had reached the door that he remembered to remove his hand from covering hers.
He stood on the walkway for a good five minutes after the carriage had pulled away from the house. Then giving himself a bit of a shake, he asked for his horse to be readied. He needed a ride.
~*~*~*~*~*~
After an hour of riding, he was beginning to feel more steady, but he was not ready to go home. So, he sought out one of his clubs. A drink, a game, and some time in conversation with acquaintances seemed a good diversion.
“Rycroft,” called a gentleman in a fine blue jacket. “We’ve not seen you in an age. Come back for another go at the marriage mart?” His golden curls bounced as he laughed. “I dare say you’ll not have an easy go of it. The mamas will be wary of you.”
“Endicott.” Rycroft clapped the man on the shoulder and then took a seat across from him. “I am still an earl. There will be many who would turn a blind eye to many things to have their daughter become a countess.” He thanked the server and took a long draw of his ale. “Not that I wish to be ensnared by a fortune hunter.”
Endicott laughed again. “Not many do. However, if they are of the upstanding variety, Blackmoore is looking. Heard he has been courting some chit from the country who is in town for the season and staying with someone.” He drummed his fingers on the table. “Never been good with names,” he muttered.
Rycroft took another long draw from his tankard. “I believe the name for which you are searching is Lady Sophia Rycroft.”
Endicott snapped his fingers. “That’s it precisely. Well, then I guess I do not need to tell you about it.” He leaned towards Rycroft. “Blackmoore says she is rather pretty. On the opposite side of tall but with a pleasing womanly figure.” He winked at Rycroft.
Rycroft took one breath and then another as he reminded himself that it was not Endicott but Blackmoore who had been looking at Mary’s figure. He knew that such a description was only the beginning of what Blackmoore would have said. He was not one for speaking with decorum when amongst his friends. It was something which had not bothered Rycroft until this moment. He placed his mug on the table and turned the handle a quarter turn towards himself. There was no reason for the action other than to keep his hands occupied. “He is not wrong.”
“And she is staying with you?”
“With my mother and my cousin, Darcy’s sister.”
“Ah, heard Darcy got married.” It was obvious that the beverage which Endicott was now enjoying was not his first.
“He did. It is his wife’s sister who is staying with my mother.”
Endicott’s brows rose, and he pursed his lips as he nodded his head. “Makes sense then.”
“What makes sense?” Rycroft felt a strange foreboding. He was almost certain that what he was about to hear was not something he wished to know, but rather something he needed to know. He waved to the server and motioned to his mug. Another drink might be needed.
“Blackmoore has been blubbering these past three months about his inheritance being held for ransom. His father fears he will run the estate into the ground with his entertainments.”
Rycroft’s brows rose. “Entertainments?”
“Shortly after the whole incident with Brownlow that sent you running, he took up with an actress who fancies herself an excellent faro player, which she is not.”
“I was not running from Brownlow. I was travelling with a friend.”
Endicott laughed. “Of course the friend happened to be a very pretty young woman.”
“She was in need of a ride. As
k Brownlow. Things were not as they were reported. Surely, you know how facts get manipulated to create a story.” Rycroft finished his first drink. Endicott was a pleasant fellow, but he was not in possession of a quick wit when not drinking. When drink was involved, his abilities to reason decreased even further.
“Yes, yes, Brownlow said he was not calling you out and that you had done him a favour by leaving.” He motioned to the server, but Rycroft pulled his hand down and called for tea.
“You are foxed, my friend,” he said as Endicott began to complain. “Now, you were saying about Blackmoore?”
“Ah, yes, Blackmoore claims he loves this actress and wishes to marry her. His father is not in favour of such a union.”
“Understandably. It would be a blight on the family reputation that would be hard to overcome, and Blackmoore has a younger sister who will be coming out this year.”
Endicott nodded and attempted to put his finger on his nose, but it landed on his cheek. “Just so. His father had his will redrawn and threatened to cut him off completely unless he marries a lady who meets his father’s approval. And, a connection to Darcy would be extremely acceptable to Blackmoore’s father.”
The sense of foreboding had grown to one of dread. “He cares nothing for the lady he is courting then?”
Rycroft could hear the disgust in Endicott’s laugh.
“A means to an end,” said Endicott. “He will have his father’s money, a pretty chit to bear him an heir and a mistress to occupy him when his wife is unavailable.” He gave an angry huff. “The love of a woman can turn a man. Would have never expected such from him.” He lapsed into a thoughtful silence as he sipped his tea and ate the biscuits Rycroft had ordered for him.
Rycroft also drank in silence. “Seen Brownlow today?” He needed to ask Brownlow about these facts. It was not that he did not believe Endicott. No, he was certain that what Endicott had related was true. He needed to know if Brownlow also knew of this, and if he would stand with him when he confronted Blackmoore.
Endicott shook his head. “No. Just you and Beaumont.”
Rycroft drained his mug. “I had hoped to see him, so I will go in search of him.”
Endicott waved him away. “Go. I will find my way out of here soon.”
Rycroft stepped into the deepening shadows of a December afternoon. He mounted his horse and pulled his jacket a bit tighter as he made his way toward Brownlow’s townhome, but seeing the knocker on Darcy’s door, he altered his plans.
“If you will wait here,” said Daniels showing Rycroft into the sitting room.
Rycroft took a seat in a chair with a high back and allowed his head to drop back against it. He rubbed his face and then covered his eyes with his hands. It was not late, but he suddenly felt very tired. His promise to Bingley to keep Mary safe from schemers kept repeating itself in his mind. Not only had he not succeeded, but he had also been the one to introduce the man to her. He sighed deeply. Blackmoore had been a good friend and although rather rakish, he had never before dallied with any proper lady’s emotions.
“Are you well?” Elizabeth’s question startled him.
He removed his hands from his eyes and rose to greet her. “A bit tired is all.”
Elizabeth gave him a concerned look. “I find the shortness of the days at this time of year affects me, as does the desire to curl up before a warm fire on a cool day.” She took a seat. “Darcy will not be long.”
“Do you travel to Hertfordshire on the morrow?”
Elizabeth smiled. “We do. I admit to being anxious to see my father.”
He looked out the window. “Bingley left today.”
“Yes,” said Elizabeth. “I did have a visit from Jane this morning. It was unfortunate that their departure was delayed so that they will have to travel in the darker part of the day. But, one cannot get married by special license without a license, so it could not be prevented.”
“Bingley mentioned the delay when he arrived to get Miss Mary.” Rycroft lapsed into silence.
Darcy gave Elizabeth’s cheek a kiss and cast a wary look at Rycroft, who was still staring out the window. “Is he well?” he whispered.
Elizabeth shook her head. “He says he is merely tired, but I fear it is more.”
“Rycroft,” said Darcy crossing to where the man sat.
Rycroft rose and clasped Darcy’s outstretched hand.
“Do you wish to speak here or in my study?”
Rycroft looked at Darcy and then Elizabeth. “You both should know.”
He returned to his seat. “Blackmoore has been calling on Miss Mary this past week.”
“An eligible gentleman?” asked Elizabeth.
“So he appears.” There was a hint of bitterness in Rycroft’s voice. He swallowed and held Darcy’s gaze. “I have learned something of him that has left me at odds with myself. He was a friend, tried and true and, despite his eager pursuit of pleasure, honourable. I thought nothing of his attentions to Miss Mary. I did not doubt his intentions until now.”
Darcy leaned forward. “What has happened?”
“Nothing yet.” Rycroft shook his head. “But his intentions are not honourable.”
“How do you know this?” asked Darcy.
“Endicott related to me how Blackmoore took up with an actress shortly after my departure from town. It is not a connection his father wishes to see move forward and, accordingly, strictures have been placed upon Blackmoore’s inheritance.” He drew a deep breath and expelled it. “He must marry someone who is acceptable to his father, and who could be more acceptable than a gentleman’s daughter who has connections to you.” Again he shook his head. “The marriage would only be to please his father. He has no intentions of giving up the actress.”
Elizabeth gasped.
“I am sorry,” said Rycroft. “I promised Bingley I would protect her from schemers, and yet, it is I who has brought this schemer to her.” His jaw and fists clenched.
“And you wish to do harm to him,” said Darcy quietly. “But he is a friend, and it feels wrong to think of harming him.”
Rycroft nodded. “But what he has planned…”
“Is reprehensible. I understand far more than you know,” said Darcy.
“You remember I was once friends with Wickham.”
Again Rycroft nodded. “I know I must deal with Blackmoore, but what of Mary?”
“I shall speak to her,” said Elizabeth. “Perhaps her affections have not been engaged.”
Rycroft’s shoulders relaxed as a weight lifted off them.
“You have not failed her.”
Rycroft looked at Darcy in surprise.
Darcy gave him a wry smile. “As I said, I understand far more than you know. You have kept your promise to Bingley. Did you not hear of a scheme and take immediate steps to prevent harm?”
Darcy stood and Rycroft followed.
“Go home, Rycroft. Miss Mary shall be well. The most dire circumstances have been avoided.”
Elizabeth took Rycroft’s hat from the table and handed it to him as he reached the door. “Thank you,” she said.
“For what?” he asked in surprise.
“For caring for my sister.” She smiled at him. “You do care for her, do you not?”
Rycroft turned his hat in his hands. “Very much,” he admitted. There was no denying it any longer. She had left, and instead of feeling relieved and his mind clearing and righting itself, he found that his world seemed to be lying at his feet in pieces.
Elizabeth laid a hand on his arm. “A library, an aunt, and a ball.”
He chuckled despite his gloom. “If it becomes necessary, Mrs. Darcy. If it becomes necessary.”
~*~*~*~*~*~
Mary opened her trunk and shook out one dress and then another before hanging them in her wardrobe. It had been only a week, but it felt strange to be in her room listening to the chatter created by her mother and sisters. She sighed. She had not missed it. She preferred the quiet of Rycroft Place.
<
br /> She saw the handkerchief Georgiana had attempted to tuck into her trunk as a surprise. She had embroidered a dark blue M on one corner and had put small yellow flowers on the other corners. Flowers she said Mary would have to see one day when she visited her at Pemberley. Mary ran a finger over the flowers. Georgiana was one of the many delights of Rycroft Place she was going to miss, for shortly after Mary returned to London, Georgiana was to return to her brother. Mary sighed. She had enjoyed their discussions. Some had gone far into the night. She tucked the handkerchief into her pocket and went back to her unpacking. She had nearly finished when her door was flung open, and Lydia skipped across the room and flopped on the bed.
“Was it very grand?” asked Lydia.
“Was what grand?” asked Mary.
“Rycroft Place, silly.” Lydia clutched her hands to her heart dramatically. “Did you meet any gentlemen that made you swoon?”
“May I come in?” Kitty stood at the doorway.
“Of course, you may come in,” said Lydia before Mary could say a word.
Kitty looked to Mary, who nodded. “What was town like?” she asked softly.
Mary joined her sisters on the bed. She knew that she would not have a moment’s peace if she did not answer Lydia’s questions, although she doubted Lydia would be satisfied with any of her answers.
“Rycroft Place is very grand. It has many maids and footmen. The floors where you enter shine. And you would be able to stand four ladies side by side on the steps. There are three sitting rooms…not all on the same floor, and several bedrooms, a music room, a dining room, a library…”
“A ballroom?” asked Lydia, turning onto her stomach.
“Yes,” said Mary.
Lydia sighed. “I should so love to have a ballroom. Then, I could dance and dance. Did you dance in it?”
“No,” said Mary with a laugh, “but I did dance in the music room. It is where Miss Darcy has her lessons.”
Lydia sighed again, a loud sigh of longing. “I should love to have dancing lessons.”
“I would, too,” added Kitty.
