The Goodness of Men
Page 2
“And how can I show my gratitude?”
His smile disarmed her, and she wondered once again how she had never fallen under the spell of Mr. Wickham as so many other ladies of her acquaintance had. Regarding his request, Elizabeth thought for a moment, making a show of tapping her chin. “You can live an honorable life and bring happiness to those you meet.”
“That is quite a task but I will endeavor to succeed,” he replied, gallantly standing with an exaggerated bow.
“Wonderful, then you are no longer in my debt, and we can part as friends.”
“That is well and good, but I wish to offer you something else, Miss Elizabeth, as a token of our friendship?”
Once again, the awkward uncertainty rose in her breast. “Sir, I cannot accept any—”
“I only wish to offer my services.”
“Your services?”
“I would consider it an honor to help ensure the safety of Miss Lydia while she is with the Forsters in Brighton.”
“Sir, while I thank you for the consideration, I believe it is unnecessary. Lydia will be under the guardianship of Colonel Forster. A more attentive man I have never met. I believe my sister will be quite secure.”
“Nevertheless, I beg you to allow me this favor. Nay, I insist upon it and will brook no opposition.” He smiled at her again, and she wondered why she was so unnerved by his suggestion.
“Mr. Wickham, as I am not her father, I have no authority to grant you permission. However,” she continued, attempting to push away the sense of unease, “if you wish to take opportunities to caution her behavior, I feel that would be in her best interest.”
He seemed to ignore the general request, and instead responded with feeling: “You have it upon my honor, madame, that I will cling to Miss Lydia and ensure she does not travel anywhere without my express company.”
“No, sir, you misunderstood me. I merely agreed to—”
“Miss Elizabeth, do not allow your concerns to overshadow our conversation. All will turn out well, and your sister will be safe. Of that I promise.”
Fitzwilliam Darcy dismounted from his horse, Ulysses, and handed the reins to a stable boy. “Make sure he is rubbed well. He was ridden hard.”
“Yes, sir.”
Darcy walked up the stairs and retreated to his room, avoiding the main stairs and the voice of his aunt who could be heard from the drawing room. His escape was almost successful until he was confronted by his cousin Fitzwilliam in the hallway.
“Darce, where have you been? I was going to ride out with you this morning.”
“Yes, well. I was up early and wanted to check the north pasture. When the task was complete, I rode to Buckelburry.”
“Buckelburry? Darcy, that is twenty miles away!”
“Yes?” he asked, turning to his cousin rigid from his question. “Ulysses and I needed the exercise.”
“And what brought this on?”
“Your meaning?” He walked into his room and sat down on the ottoman while his valet, Briggs, removed his boots.
Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam followed him into the room and closed the door behind him. “It is only that I noticed a change in your demeanor after our visit from the parson Mr. Collins and his wife last night.”
“And?” Darcy asked, shooting him a dangerous look.
“I was surprised at your acquaintance with the parson’s wife—”
“Mrs. Collins is a respectable woman who I had the pleasure of meeting while in Hertfordshire last autumn while staying at Bingley’s estate.”
He walked to the desk and picked up a pen, examining it nonchalantly. “I was only curious about your reaction when you discovered her friend, a Miss Elizabeth Bennet, if I remember correctly, was supposed to be residing at the parsonage and would have been if its mistress had not taken ill weeks before.”
“Your imagination has run wild.”
Richard put the pen down and looked at him with amusement.
“Now, if you will excuse me, I must wash and then wait upon my aunt before she is offended by my lack of attention.” Darcy stood and walked into the adjoining room where Briggs was readying his bath.
He closed the door but not before hearing his cousin. “You cannot hide forever, Darce.”
Chapter 2
July 2, 1812
Elizabeth glanced out the carriage window. “What a lovely holiday, Aunt Madeline. I am only troubled Uncle had to return to London. Do you think his warehouse suffered much damage?”
Madeline Gardiner looked up from her book. “I hardly know. From what his foreman wrote, the fire was in a separate building housing broken machinery waiting to be fixed. Although a loss to the business, it could have been so much worse. I only regret our trip to the Lake District had to be altered. I hope you are not too disappointed, Lizzy.”
“Not at all. It is with luck we were only a day’s journey to Chenowith. I have longed to see it and meet Mrs. Anderson since you spoke of her. She seems an agreeable woman.”
“Yes, Amelia is that, indeed. Since our earliest acquaintance when Edward and I were first married, she has been a dear friend. As her husband sailed to the Americas on business two months ago, she is fortunate to reside at her younger brother’s estate until her husband’s return.”
“Have you been to Chenowith?”
“This will be my first visit as her brother purchased the Derbyshire estate but three years ago. And I have not met her brother, Phillip Turner, as he was away at Cambridge when Amelia and I lived near one another. However, I have heard he is quite a good sort of man. Very responsible with a good mind for figures.”
“It is commendable to surround oneself with those who understand their obligations.”
Aunt Madeline nodded. “But Lizzy, I do not know how your opinion of me might change after we spend these days with Amelia. I am afraid you will hear more silliness from your aunt than you expected to hear in a lifetime. With Gardner not joining us until we arrive in Lambton, I am afraid you will be shocked.”
“Oh, Aunt. I assure you. Being raised in a house of five girls, there is nothing you can do to shock me!”
The carriage continued to bounce over the ruts in the road while Elizabeth reached for her book and settled back into the cushions.
“And how far is Chenowith from Lambton?”
“We are half a day’s journey. As delighted as I am to spend time with Amelia, I cannot wait to share the home of my youth with you.” Mrs. Gardiner closed her own book entirely and smiled brightly. “Lambton is a wonderful village. The only reason I could bear to leave it was to marry Edward. It has been fifteen years since I have seen it. I am sure many things have changed.”
“I am sure they have, Aunt, but your memories will enhance the charm.”
“It has other claims on your interest, as well. It is but five miles from Pemberley, where Mr. Wickham spent his youth. Depending on our engagements, we should petition the housekeeper to see the house.”
“Oh, I am not sure we should. I would not wish to encounter Mr. Darcy. We did not part on pleasant terms at the Netherfield ball nor has my opinion of him altered greatly.”
Mrs. Gardiner laughed and shook her head. “These great men are never at home. Besides, that was more than seven months ago. Nevertheless, we will wait until the opportunity presents itself to tour that great house. Until then, we will enjoy the pleasures of Chenowith.”
“I am certain there are many to be had.”
Lizzy gasped as the carriage rolled past a group of laborers plowing in the field. There was by no means anything that separated these field hands from others she had encountered in her life, even those working the fields of Longbourn. Dirty pants, ragged shirts, filthy boots. But one stood above the rest—his shirt clung to his physique and she blushed hotly. She turned her head back to her book, hoping her aunt had not taken notice. Quite a stirring sight indeed!
Fitzwilliam Darcy noted the carriage as it rolled towards the great house before eyeing his friend Phill
ip Turner on horseback. “It appears you have guests.”
“Ah, yes. My sister’s friend, Mrs. Gardiner.” He laughed and dismounted his horse. “Darcy, what do you do here? When I asked for help, I had not expected you to work up a sweat.” He took the shovel from his friend’s hand and leaned against it, looking towards the carriage. “What would the elegant ladies of the ton say if they saw the master of Pemberley coming to the rescue of a poor landowner and helping him harvest his potatoes?”
“They would wonder why I did not send all my servants in my stead and stay at Pemberley to listen to my sister play her new pianoforte.” He wiped his brow with the back of his sleeve and took back the spade.
“When I invited you to Chenowith, my intention was not to make you work for your keep.”
Darcy grinned and continued digging. “A man likes this exercise. It allows me to think. To temporarily escape from my responsibilities. But you know, this would not have occurred if my old friend’s workers and tenants had not prescribed to the enticements of a charlatan.”
“Yes, yes, that is true. It is regrettable so many fell ill from his mystical elixir at the Cranston festival two days ago.” Turner took off his own jacket and laid it aside. “I hope the magistrate finds the impostor.”
Darcy grinned and shrugged his shoulders all the while staying engaged in his labors. “It is unfortunate, but no matter. Yet, I am sure you are grateful not all your tenants and servants were so voracious in their celebrations.”
“That I am. However, it seems there were just enough remaining to make it a challenge for the estate to get the crop in. The potatoes are ahead of expected harvest with all the rain this year. The foreman said they will rot and be lost if we do not harvest now.” He grunted as he lifted his own shovel.
“He would know,” Darcy said. “We have planted it successfully at Pemberley for many years, first in the upper pasture, then in the lower. I cannot guarantee your success, but you might see a multitude of crops.”
“That would be a blessing,” Turner said, straining against the weight of the soil. “As you know, last year’s harvest of wheat was all but wiped out by the infestation. I could not endure my tenants to suffer through another year. Luckily, we had enough in the store houses to help them subsist but the coffers are not full as they once were.”
“So is the woe of a landowner.” Darcy forcefully thrust his shovel into the soil.
“Yes, but I would rather be a landowner with those concerns than a tenant with a sore back.” Turner arched his back and stretched his shoulders, rubbing his neck with his hands.
Both men laughed as they continued to dig up their bounty. “My foreman expects we shall be finished tomorrow evening with the additional workers arriving from Pemberley.”
“Good.” Darcy laughed. “I could use a good scrub. Poor Briggs will have no idea what to do with me.”
“I am anxious to return as my sister’s friend is to bring her niece—a reputed beauty. She is the daughter of a poor gentleman, but even a poor gentleman’s daughter is always more pleasant to look on across the dinner table than these potatoes.”
“Harrumph. Beauty only lasts so long, my friend. Do not fall prey to a pretty face.”
“Do you fear I will end up like Bingley? Love-struck over every fair-haired maiden? Give me more credit, Darcy. I know the kind of woman I must marry. I shall but enjoy the company of her supposed wit and intelligence. No more.”
“Who is this poor paragon of wit, intelligence, and beauty?”
“I cannot say. However, I do know she is to visit for two months. If she is disagreeable, you might find yourself with an extra guest at Pemberley. Have Mrs. Reynolds ready my room.”
“What a lovely room, Mrs. Anderson,” Elizabeth said, walking over to the window and glancing out across the gardens. “I anticipate waking up earlier than usual just to see the sun peaking over the trees.”
A pleasant afternoon settled over Chenowith as Mrs. Anderson ensured her guests wanted for nothing.
“Thank you. This is my favorite of all the guest rooms. When your aunt wrote me, she mentioned you loved nature, and I hoped this would suit.”
Elizabeth turned from the window to look about the room. The soft afternoon light showed the furniture to its best advantage. The dark honey-colored bed posts were carved with an intricate vine pattern and were complimented by a yellow valance and canopy with muted green trim. A thick rug abutted the fireplace, a soft green chaise in front. The wallpaper was an elaborate leaf pattern with flying birds.
“This room was originally the mistress’ chambers, as you can see the door leading to the master’s rooms,” she said indicating the wall opposite the writing desk. “However, the previous owner’s grandfather added a modern master’s chambers in the new wing. Madeline,” Mrs. Anderson said, turning to her friend, “the room which we had originally prepared for you had a small mishap with a candle and a new upstairs maid two nights ago. It will take at least another day to repair the minimal damage, and I know this is an odd request, but I so hoped you would be willing to remove there when the time comes. I chose it especially for you.”
“Amelia, whatever you wish.”
“Very well. Until then, you shall reside in the adjoining chambers next to Miss Bennet. Will that do?”
“That would be lovely,” she said walking over to join Elizabeth at the window.
“Wonderful. Then I shall leave you two to rest from your journey. We will dine at half past six. Sarah has been assigned as your abigail, Miss Bennet. She is young but quite capable.” Mrs. Anderson smiled and turned to leave the room when she spoke again. “Miss Bennet. I almost forgot. These letters came for you yesterday. I put them in my pocket so I would remember to give them directly to you,” she said, handing the missives to Elizabeth. “Enjoy your rest”—and closed the door behind her.
Elizabeth glanced at the letters, then set them down on her bed before walking towards the door of the adjoining chambers. “Let us see this apartment.” She took her aunt’s arm and moved through the adjoining sitting room and into the bed chambers.
“Definitely a masculine room,” Mrs. Gardiner said as they both looked about. The room was the mirror image of Elizabeth’s but lacked feminine colors. Where her room was in blues and yellows, the walls here were a dark green with mahogany wainscoting. At the opposite end was a dressing room and door leading to the servants’ stairwell.
“This is a beautiful estate. I wonder what Amelia’s brother looks like? If he has any prospects?” Aunt Gardiner mused.
Elizabeth arched her brow. “Did I bring my mother on this trip or my favorite aunt? No matchmaking!” She laughed and playfully patted her arm. “Now, let us rest. I know the drive was exhausting to you.”
“Only a little, but I do feel like resting.”
She kissed her aunt’s cheek before closing the door. Anxious to read how her family fared without her, she picked up her letters from the pillow and lay on the bed. Knowing Jane’s letter would bring distress to her heart as her disappointment would likely be written between the lines, she set it to the side. Poor Jane. Mr. Bingley was the most agreeable of men. I am certain he was in love with her. She then picked up her father’s scant lines before moving on to the others. After reading through Mary’s pious remonstrations towards her younger sister remaining at home, Kitty’s own complaints about Mary, and their mother’s complaints about both of them, Elizabeth was hopeful to find some enjoyment from Lydia’s letter.
Oh, Lizzy,
I know you will be green with envy, as you should be, while I am visiting the seaside and you are on a stuffy outing to the Lakes with my aunt and uncle. I have seen Mr. Wickham every day since we departed Meryton, and I must confess I am sure I have replaced you in his heart for affection. He has told me that I am to be his special pet to watch over and protect while in Brighton—that I am to go nowhere without him. Oh, Lizzy. If only that horrible Mr. Darcy had not cheated him, he and I might already be married.
“Foolish girl,” she mumbled flipping to the next page. “Take care, Lydia. Even a good sort of man is still a man with nothing but his small pay to live off.”
Tonight, Harriet and I are to host a card party. Colonel Forster has meetings with his commanding officers, but Mr. Wickham and the other officers will be here to entertain. We have been quite showered with attention, and I must admit I hope to never return to Longbourn but instead find a dashing officer to run away with.
Elizabeth’s eyes widened at the bold statement from her youngest sister and she wrote Lydia at once. After sanding the ink, Elizabeth folded her letter and took up Jane’s, imagining what it already contained.
At length, Lizzy leaned back into the pillows and exhaled slowly. She was grateful her young cousins were at Longbourn to distract her sister, yet, worried that once they returned to London with her aunt, Jane would revert back to her melancholy state.
She continued to read through the pages, searching for any indication of Jane’s restored happiness but found very little. Finishing the letter, she sighed in exasperation, believing with certainty that it was not Mr. Wickham’s life alone Mr. Darcy had ruined!
“And will we have the pleasure of meeting your brother this evening, Amelia?” Mrs. Gardiner asked as the footmen refilled her glass.
“I am afraid not, Madeline. He sends his regrets for not being her to receive you. I had a note from him that he must meet with his foreman. Phillip has been returning to the house late and leaving for the fields before sunrise. The extra workers from Pemberley were unable to arrive until this morning, but he said with their help, the work should be completed in two days.”
“Pemberley?” Elizabeth gasped, unable to hide her surprise.
“Yes, do you know it? It is the estate belonging to my brother’s good friend, Mr. Darcy.”
“Yes, yes. I have heard of it.” Her jaw clenched at the shocking announcement. Studying her plate of venison, Elizabeth attempted to avoid her aunt’s gaze.