“I have an errand that needs to be performed, of a most confidential nature,” the prince said as he paced the carpet, his hands clasped behind his back. “This errand requires someone who speaks French fluently and who is familiar with the Court; characteristics which are available in abundance among my courtiers. However, it also requires someone who can think quickly and keep his own counsel when he needs to; these characteristics are not found in great measure at the Court. The person performing this errand should also be someone whose absence will not be immediately commented upon, and so must be someone who is not a regular in court circles. The colonel has suggested that you would be the best man for this errand.”
“The colonel does me too much honour,” Darcy said, unsmiling.
“Darcy,” the prince said impatiently, “as you know, I have always considered you to be a prig, always disapproving of the enjoyments of others and too unimaginative to step out of the mould your father formed for you. I hear, however, that you were recently married and that your bride is a gentlewoman of no family name or pretensions, nor of any fortune.”
Darcy glanced at the colonel, his brows furrowed.
“No, no, I did not hear it from the ever-discreet colonel; it is a matter that I heard mentioned briefly in court gossip. Frankly, it was the cause of some chagrin to a number of predacious mammas.” He smiled slightly and flicked his fingers dismissively. “Now that you are married they have gone on to other, juicier topics of conversation. The incident has, however, made me wonder if I have misjudged you over the years. I wonder if, perhaps, there is more to you than meets the eye if you have the audacity to risk the displeasure of your formidable aunt Lady Catherine de Bourgh in order to marry as you wish.” The Prince Regent eyed Darcy speculatively. “I would prefer to turn this problem over to Colonel Fitzwilliam, whose reticence I trust implicitly; however, he has his own work here and I cannot spare him.”
“If you have decided that I am the one who must perform this act, perhaps you will give me more details of what it is,” Darcy said, careful not to let his impatience show.
The prince sighed, rubbing his well-shaven chin uncomfortably. “I would prefer to avoid the entire topic, but ignoring it will not make the problem easier. So… about two months ago a new ambassador from the Austrian court arrived with his wife and household. His wife is French, a ravishing little creature who is about twenty years younger than her husband. We became friendly, and one thing led to another, but after a couple of weeks I tired of her attentions and wished to move on to… greener pastures, shall we say?” He looked at the ceiling and clasped his hands behind his back again, his movements uncharacteristically awkward, as Darcy gazed at him stonily. “She, however, with Gallic passion and tenacity, was not ready to fade into obscurity with the gifts and favours of a prince to remember, but had taken, as insurance against such an eventuality, something from my room. I need to have that item back.”
“What is the item, Your Majesty,” Darcy asked, his jaws clenching, “that is so important that you are willing to risk a scandal to obtain its return?”
The Prince Regent sat behind the desk and irritably turned a paper knife over in his hands. “It is a packet of letters. The letters are from a lady who has been a friend for many years. They are quite indiscreet. I do not know how Frau Klein found them and spirited them from my room, but they are gone.”
“How can you be sure that they were stolen by the ambassador’s wife?” Darcy asked.
“She left London not long before I discovered the loss—sent home by the ambassador because of her scandalous behaviour, presumably.” He added in an aside, “He is one of those horrible, rigidly upright Germanic types who could not see that it was an honour to have his wife singled out by a monarch. In any case, I received a letter from her a few days after, written from Paris, demanding what was, literally, a king’s ransom for the letters and threatening to send them to my wife if I did not pay her, a consequence that I need not say would be most undesirable.” He shivered slightly in horror, dabbing his lips with his lace-edged handkerchief. “The difficulty is that I do not have that kind of money, my income being totally inadequate to cover my expenses, as you are probably aware—which is why Parliament must periodically, and most grudgingly, give me grants to pay my debts,” he added irritably. “I most certainly do not have the money to pay off blackmailing females.”
Darcy suppressed a sigh. “Just how sensitive are these letters, Your Majesty?”
“Sensitive enough to affect the succession to the throne,” the prince said simply, finally looking Darcy in the eye.
“Good Lord, Your Majesty,” Darcy said weakly, “how many letters are there, all told?”
“There are about twenty of them; I do not know the exact number, but they were tied in a packet with a pink ribbon when they were stolen. Of course, I cannot know whether they have been separated since the theft.”
“Are there any other political concerns at stake that you know of, Your Majesty,” Darcy asked, “such as a foreign head of state who wishes to embarrass you or something of that sort?”
“Not that I know of,” replied the prince hesitantly. “I have not heard any murmurs of that kind since this started, but it would certainly be to Napoleon’s advantage if the British monarchy was in jeopardy and the country in turmoil; and the lady is undeniably in Paris, not in her husband’s native country.”
“If we could summarise the problem, then, Your Majesty: you wish me to travel to Paris while Napoleon is crouching near there with his army, baring his teeth at the armies of the Sixth Coalition, find these letters, and return without allowing them to fall into the hands of either Napoleon or the Coalition on the way. Is this correct?”
“Quite correct, Mr. Darcy,” said the Prince Regent, lifting his fat chin pugnaciously.
“How do you propose that I get the letters from the lady, and how can I be sure that I have them all, Your Majesty?”
“You could get them back the same way she obtained them in the first place,” the prince said, a smug smile crossing his face.
“I am sorry, Your Majesty, I am not willing to go that far to assist you.”
“No, Darcy, I assumed you would not be,” he returned with disgust.
“Where can I find this femme fatale, Your Majesty?” Darcy asked pointedly.
“I have the particulars here.” He took an envelope from his inside jacket pocket and handed it to Darcy. “You must be ready to leave in the morning; the lady is expecting an answer within the next few days. I am sure you can find a ship willing to take you to Calais, for a consideration,” the prince said briskly, standing up and starting towards the door. “The colonel tells me that your sister is to be presented at the Drawing-room in four weeks, so you must be back before that day. He looked back as he reached the door and paused, his hand on the knob. “You will present your wife at the same time; I am eager to see what type of woman was able to capture the well-regulated heart of Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Darcy said in resignation, bowing as the door clicked shut. He had hoped to avoid putting Elizabeth through the ordeal of the formal presentation at court, since he had no intention of attending any court functions with either his wife or his sister, but there would now be no alternative. He and the colonel made their way back out to the entrance in silence, where his carriage appeared, summoned by some unseen lackey.
“Well, this is a delightful situation that you have dropped me into, Fitzwilliam,” Darcy whispered bitterly. “I have not the first idea of how to accomplish this ‘errand,’ and the fate of the Crown may hang upon its success. Thank you so much, my dear cousin.”
“I am sorry, Darcy,” the colonel said, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, “but I could not think of anyone more capable than yourself to do this discreetly. I would have undertaken it myself if I could have absented myself, but I am in the middle of an important inve
stigation. We have received several reports suggesting that there is an arms smuggling ring operating between here and France. These reports are not through official channels and are more in the nature of rumours than actual confirmed reports, but there are some suggestions that these same men may find it to their benefit to assassinate the Prince Regent and keep the war going, which is how I became involved. I think you will agree that the Prince Regent’s safety is more important than his love letters, and on the positive side, this is an opportunity for you to improve your standing with the prince, which may be of benefit to both Mrs. Darcy and Georgiana.”
“Well, it is done now, and I have agreed to attempt the thing. I will contact you when I return, as it is unlikely that I will be able to do so safely until I am back on English soil. What do you think the Coalition is planning over the next few weeks?”
“I know, as do you, that Napoleon is in France, where he has been driven by the Coalition forces from Eastern Europe. The British forces are moving up from the south towards Paris. Napoleon could conceivably be in Paris by the time you arrive there. If you must escape quickly, it would be better to try to leave from the south of Paris and meet up with the English forces or, better yet, from the west and avoid the armies entirely. Darcy,” the colonel added seriously, “be careful, Cousin, I am not ready to lose you and I had no idea what this errand was going to involve.”
“Believe me, I will be as careful as I can. I have a good many reasons to want to return unscathed.”
The two men shook hands solemnly before the colonel alighted and Darcy saw his cousin staring after the carriage before it rounded the corner and he was blocked from view.
***
At ten minutes past midnight, Darcy left the house in a hackney chaise, and he instructed the jarvey to drive to an inn on the Dover highway where the post chaise stopped. Burton had been given instructions to tell any callers that he was out of town but would be back within three weeks. As he drove away from Ashbourne House, Darcy suddenly realised the date and grimaced to himself. It was the Ides of March. He hoped they were more fortunate for him than they had been for Caesar.
***
Lord and Lady Whitwell and the rest of the Pemberley party arrived in London several days after Darcy’s departure. They had taken a leisurely four days to travel and Lady Whitwell had instructed Georgiana on court protocol during the drive; they had practised the court curtsey in the evening after they dined. By bedtime each night, Georgiana was trembling with nerves and sore muscles, sure that she would not survive her presentation without at least one major solecism. Her life would be ruined and she would be a laughing stock. Each night she would lie in bed, Lucky tucked comfortingly in next to her, and her stomach would churn as she tried to block out the instructions still repeating in her head. When she finally slept she would have only two or three hours rest before it was time to rise and dress for the day of travel. She was greatly relieved when she finally felt the cobblestones of the London streets under the carriage wheels.
The coach stopped first at Ashbourne House to drop the young ladies and Mrs. Annesley; then Lord and Lady Whitwell had gone on to their own town house, Longford House.
The subsequent week was a confusion of dress fittings for Elizabeth and Kitty, as well as Georgiana, as they would all need a well-stocked wardrobe for the many parties and balls. Lady Whitwell continued Georgiana’s lessons, and Elizabeth and Kitty joined her so she would not feel so singled out. Mrs. Annesley was put to work listing all the orders which had been placed and performing errands for Lady Whitwell. When the week ended and the fittings were finished, Kitty accepted an invitation to stay with her Aunt Gardiner for a week or two and Georgiana thought she looked relieved to be leaving the incessant activity behind as she drove off in Mr. Gardiner’s carriage.
As the week finished, Georgiana felt she had improved her curtsey and learnt many of the court rules, although she still quailed when she thought of her presentation, and her aunt’s detailed instructions and warnings had not relieved her anxiety. More importantly, she was also terribly worried about Elizabeth. She was sure that Elizabeth was as uneasy about Mr. Darcy and his strange command appearance with the Prince Regent as she was, but her sister-in-law looked more than worried. She looked pale and ill, and she was not eating well. Georgiana was almost more concerned about her than about her presentation. Almost. Lady Whitwell’s crisp voice broke through her reverie:
“Let us try again, ladies. You must place your train over your arm and when you are called by the lord chamberlain you will walk to the door and into the Presence Chamber. You will gracefully put down your train, one of the lords-in-waiting will spread it out behind you, and then you will move forwards until you are facing the throne. You will then curtsey to the Prince Regent and to any other members of the royal family who are present—and you must not let the feathers fall out of your hair! Let us again practise your curtseys, my dears, and how to back out of the chamber afterwards; you must not turn your back on your monarch!”
The deep, court curtsey was very difficult; to perform it, rise gracefully (without wobbling) and then back out while controlling the three-yard-long train had seemed almost impossible at first. Under Lady Whitwell’s strict tutelage they had all pinned tablecloths to their shoulders to practise and they had repeated their curtseys and retreats over and over, until Georgiana had to exert all her self-control to not collapse in a screaming fit on the floor. When, finally, Lady Whitwell declared that they were doing well the Darcy ladies took the carriage back to Ashbourne House and flopped on the chairs in Elizabeth’s sitting-room, too tired to even ring for tea.
After sitting and staring into space for fifteen minutes, Georgiana jumped up and said, “I need some fresh air. Are either of you interested in a walk?”
Elizabeth sighed and said, “I am sorry, Georgiana, but I am exhausted. I think I had better drag myself to my room and rest until it is time to dress for dinner.”
Mrs. Annesley said, “I should like a walk, Miss Darcy. I have not been working as hard as the rest of you and some fresh air would be very welcome.”
“I will just need to change my shoes to something more suitable for walking.”
“I will meet you downstairs in, say, fifteen minutes. Does that suit you?”
“Perfectly.”
***
There was a hesitant tap on Elizabeth’s door at five o’clock while Lambert was fixing her hair, which was mussed after her nap. When the maid went into the bedroom and opened the door Elizabeth heard a throat clear and then Burton’s voice, unsure and embarrassed to be invading the mistress’s private rooms.
“I’m sorry, Miss Lambert, but I need to speak to the mistress.”
Elizabeth, alarmed at his tone, jumped up and ran to the door, afraid that he had received bad news about her husband.
“What is it, Burton?”
He cleared his throat again. “I’m sorry to bother you, Mrs. Darcy, but Miss Durand is in quite a taking. Miss Darcy and Mrs. Annesley have not returned from their walk and it is almost dark.”
She was speechless for a moment, her head spinning. “What? When did they go out? Miss Darcy was speaking with Mrs. Annesley about a walk just as I came upstairs to rest at, oh, about three o’clock I believe it was. Has no one seen them since then?”
“No, madam. Miss Darcy and Mrs. Annesley went out just after that, with a footman to accompany them. John it was.”
“And John is reliable?”
“Yes, madam. He has been with us for fifteen years and has always given satisfaction. This is his first time in London; he came with us from Derbyshire.”
Elizabeth tried to think what to do. She did not want to overreact, but this was a decidedly ominous occurrence and her stomach clenched with fear for her sister. Hyde Park was safe enough during the day, if one was careful, but the large expanse of woods would be a frightening place after dark. After a mo
ment’s thought she said to Burton, “Send Durand to me immediately.”
His face looked relieved at her decisive voice. If only she could feel as calm as she apparently appeared.
Burton returned within minutes with Durand.
Elizabeth looked at the maid’s pale face, her hands convulsively clenching the skirt of her gown, wrinkling the fabric. She spoke softly but firmly. “Durand, when did Miss Darcy go out?”
Durand sniffed, trying to control herself. “It was not long after three, madam. She and Mrs. Annesley and one of the footmen.”
“Did Miss Darcy say anything to indicate in which direction they would be walking or which path they would take?”
“Not that I recall, madam.” She paused to think for a moment. “I do remember that Miss Darcy mentioned yesterday that she would like to take one of the short walks which go through the woods. She expressed a desire to see if the trees were beginning to leaf out.” She sniffed again and her face collapsed, her refined accent slipping. “Oh, what could have ’appened to ’em, mum? I be so worried! I did not know what to do and I kept thinkin’ they would be back any minute!”
Elizabeth patted the maid’s shoulder briefly and then, when her snivelling did not abate, shoved her unceremoniously into Lambert’s arms. She turned to Burton, who was still hovering in the doorway.
“Burton, order the carriage. I will drive down towards the park and see if they are there. It is possible that one of them has turned an ankle or something and they are having difficulty getting home. I should like a couple of reliable footmen to go with me.”
Burton stood up straight.
“Yes, madam. Right away.”
He disappeared down the servants’ staircase.
Elizabeth turned to Lambert, who was still comforting the weeping Durand.
“Tsk, Durand! Stop your crying this instant! You are making a spectacle of both yourself and Miss Darcy.”
Durand gulped and swallowed her sobs. She managed to mumble, “Yes, mum.”
Mr. Darcy's Little Sister Page 17
