“Let us not stand on propriety then. Shall we retire to the music room?” Darcy stood to end the conversation. Elizabeth followed him to her feet. She came to his end of the table to greet him. In reality, he should escort his aunt, but Lady Catherine’s ill breeding and high-handedness irritated him. “Come, my Dear.” He placed Elizabeth’s hand on his arm and led her from the room.
“Will you not come to bed, my Husband?” Elizabeth stood at the door of his study. United, they had weathered their first evening with their eclectic guests. Both she and Miss Donnel had entertained the group, and Georgiana finally agreed to play several solos-—with everyone’s praise. They had found the evening actually quite pleasant, with the exception of Lady Catherine’s continual remarks on the various performances and her many instructions on execution and taste.
“I have a letter to my solicitor,” he noted. “I shall join you by the time you finish your ablutions.” He smiled at her; he knew Elizabeth did not like to sleep alone. At Longbourn, she and her sister Jane had shared more than confidences.They often shared the same bed, needing each other’s company to feel complete. His wife had transferred that “need” to him. Of course, Darcy did not complain. Lying with her in his arms was exquisite. His loneliness—his own “needs”—found completion in her love.
Elizabeth pursed her lips and blew him an air kiss.A smile played across her countenance. “I shall wait up.”
He recognized that look—a love promise. “I shall not be long.”
Giggling, she dropped him a curtsy and was gone.
Darcy returned to his letter. In it, he asked Mr. Laurie to seek information on Wickham’s reported affairs, as well as the extent of the man’s latest debts. He also requested any details that Mr. Laurie might glean on Lieutenant Harwood’s financial soundness. Darcy did not fool himself into thinking that the letter would go out anytime soon:The snow had continued to fall all evening, covering everything in a thick layer of whiteness. However, he would have it ready for when the postal service started up again.
A tap at the door drew his attention away from his task. He raised his head and found Mr. Baldwin waiting patiently for his acknowledgment. “I beg your pardon, Mr. Darcy. Might I speak with you, sir?”
“Certainly, Mr. Baldwin. Come in, please.” He motioned to a chair, but the well-trained domestic refused with a nearly imperceptible shake of his head. However, the man remained on alert, and Darcy quickly recognized his butler’s agitation. “What might I do for you, Mr. Baldwin?” He knew that for Baldwin to approach him, the matter must be significant. Darcy had, long ago, relegated management of the household staff to the man.
“As you requested, Mr. Darcy, I checked the rooms in the east wing myself.” He paused, searching for the words to explain the situation. “Sir, the room with the Chinese pattern…”
“Yes, Mr. Baldwin.”
“The mattress, Mr. Darcy…and the…the bed linens…they are missing, sir.”
Darcy’s expression showed his irritation. “What do you mean, Baldwin? Missing?”
“Missing, sir! As in not there…not in the room at all…not in any of the rooms, sir!”
“Are you sure, man?” Darcy was on his feet, moving closer to his butler, as if that would bring back the missing items.
“Completely, Mr. Darcy. I looked myself. I searched every room in the east wing, as well as all the empty ones in the west wing. I even searched the servants’ quarters. I found nothing, Mr. Darcy—not a pillow or a blanket or even a sheet—nothing, sir.”
“How is that possible, Mr. Baldwin? A complete bedding set does not sprout wings and fly away!” Darcy’s frustration became more evident.
“I wish I had an explanation, sir. Where could it be? And why bed linens? None of it makes sense, Mr. Darcy.”
Darcy paced the room—he disliked not being in control of his surroundings. “Tomorrow morning, I want you to take Murray and Hastings and search every room in this house—even those occupied by my guests. If they object, tell them that I have ordered you to inspect every window and fireplace flue to make sure that they can withstand the elements. Methodically move from room to room—none is to be left without inspection. I want to know the whereabouts of this said bedding. And while you are at it, look for the candelabra usually kept outside Miss Darcy’s room. Mrs. Darcy reports its sudden disappearance also.”
“Yes, sir. I will see to it personally, sir.”
His man waited, expecting Darcy to say more—to express his anger about the butler’s incompetence. “Just find it, Mr. Baldwin. Someone plays games in my house, and I will have none of it.”
“Yes, Mr. Darcy.”
“Extinguish the lights. I am to bed. Be sure that everything is secure.”
“Yes, Mr. Darcy.”
Too annoyed to even finish the letter, Darcy strode from the room. Only in Elizabeth’s arms could his anger be lessened.
They made love twice:The first time eased his dissatisfaction with the unexpected onslaught of intruders on his domain and with the equally unexpected disappearance of his household items.The second time Darcy brought her to completion, taking time to please her, slowly teasing Elizabeth with his ministrations.They lay wrapped in each other’s arms, sated. Elizabeth drifted into the early stages of sleep. Darcy watched her even breathing, as he did nightly. From their first time together, he had watched her—guarded her as she slept—amazed by how easily she gave herself to him.
He had spent a year in suspense, trying to win her love, although he had refused to even acknowledge the power she held over him. “By you I was taught humility,” he murmured softly as he lightly stroked Elizabeth’s cheek.
She turned in his arms, snuggling into his chest. Her hand reached up to cup his jaw line. Dreamily, Elizabeth mumbled, “I love the way you smell—sandalwood and my Fitzwilliam.” She breathed him in and returned to her sleep.
Darcy gently kissed her forehead and brushed her hair from her face. He closed his own eyes to dream of his wife and their life together. All his dreams rested in her.
Finally, deep in sleep-satisfied by their lovemaking and by the total trust he placed in Elizabeth, when the first scream came, it penetrated his subconscious, but did not register in his conscious mind. However, the second one pulled him from the depths of his dream and brought Darcy upright. He stumbled to the middle of the room.
“Georgiana.” Elizabeth’s whisper behind him sent him bolting from the room, a robe loosely wrapped about his form. Darcy slid to a halt at his sister’s door, her screams ripping out his heart.
Without knocking, Darcy shoved the door open to find a terrified Georgiana on her knees in the middle of the bed, clutching her gown to her as she shook with fear. She continued to scream, not seeing him—not understanding he was there. Candlelight reflected in the mirror told him that Elizabeth followed behind him, but he did not turn around. Instead, he focused all his energy on helping his sister.
“Georgiana,” he whispered as he edged forward. She no longer screamed, but she shivered uncontrollably. “Georgiana, I am here. Nothing will harm you.” Slowly, comfortingly, he took her into his embrace, holding her tightly to him. Cooing gently, Darcy whispered in her ear—told the girl how he would never let anything hurt her. Finally, her body relaxed.“Georgiana,” he said while watching Elizabeth use her candle to light the others.“Can you tell me what frightened you, my Dear?”
“Oh, Fitzwilliam,” she sobbed. Darcy automatically pulled her closer.
“What is it, Darcy?” Lady Catherine demanded from the open doorway. Anne stood silently behind her mother.
Darcy did not look up; his attention remained on Georgiana, so Elizabeth took charge. “It is nothing, Lady Catherine.” She began to turn the woman from the room. “Georgiana simply had a girlish nightmare. Sometimes her fears act on her mind.” Elizabeth caught Anne’s arm to walk her to her guest room; she knew that Lady Catherine would follow. “We are sorry that your sleep was disturbed, Miss de Bourgh.”
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p; “As long as Georgiana is unharmed,” Anne murmured quietly.
“I shall not rise until noon,” Lady Catherine grumbled. “It will take me hours to settle my nerves.”
“I will have Mrs. Jennings send up some warm milk, Lady Catherine,” Elizabeth offered.
“Make it chamomile tea with a dash of brandy,” Darcy’s aunt ordered as she entered her room, closing the door in Elizabeth’s face.
Elizabeth smiled in amusement. “Might we send something to you also, Miss de Bourgh?”
Anne shot a quick glance at her mother’s closed door.“I believe I shall finish my letter,” she whispered conspiratorially.
“As you wish.” Elizabeth patted the woman’s hand before seeing Darcy’s cousin safely to her room.
Returning to Georgiana’s chambers, she saw Darcy easing his sister backwards onto the pillows. “Would you like me to stay with her?” Elizabeth asked.
He came closer, where he might speak to her ears alone. “Please…at least until I am more appropriately attired.” Suddenly, she realized that he wore nothing beneath his robe.
“I prefer you this way,” she said mischievously, hoping to ease the real concern she saw in Darcy’s face.
“You are a wicked woman, Elizabeth Darcy.” He recognized her ruse and kissed her upturned nose. “I will be back in a moment.”
She squeezed his hand. “Have someone take chamomile tea with brandy to your aunt,” she whispered before moving to comfort Georgiana. Darcy nodded and quickly left the room.
Elizabeth curled up beside Georgiana on the bed.“I am so sorry, Elizabeth,” the girl started an apology.
“There is nothing for which to feel sorrow.” She gently placed the lose strands of her sister’s braid behind Georgiana’s ear. “It was a nightmare—nothing more.We all have them at one time or another.”
“But I was not asleep!” Georgiana protested. “At least, not all the way.” She gripped Elizabeth’s hand. “You must believe me!”
Elizabeth cupped the girl’s chin in her palm. She raised her head so that she might fully see Georgiana’s countenance. “Of course, I will believe you.You are my sister, Georgiana; I am always on your side.” Darcy reappeared, wearing breeches and a loose shirt. He lovingly handed Elizabeth a silk robe.“Might you tell your brother and me what happened?”
He moved to sit on the end of the bed, leaving his sister’s care to Elizabeth’s tender encouragement. Darcy would simply listen. This was what he had always wanted for Georgiana—someone she would trust, and she did trust Elizabeth, just as he did.
Georgiana stared deeply into Elizabeth’s eyes, allowing her brother’s wife to make things right. “I went down to the music room because I could not sleep. I was so excited after everyone praised my playing; I wanted to work on a new piece to show them I could do something more complicated, actually earn their praise.”
“That was admirable of you.” Elizabeth eased away from Georgiana, encouraging the girl to draw on her own personal strength. Then she curled up before Darcy, accepting his symbolic protection and telling Georgiana they would see her through anything.
“I returned here after an hour or so, finally relaxed.” Georgiana’s attention remained on them. “I blew out my candles and curled down into the blankets, trying to ward off the chill. Finally, I started to reach that point where I was drifting off to sleep—you know, that moment when you are between the two worlds: wake and sleep.” Elizabeth nodded for her to continue.
“Anyway, I felt a sudden cold, as though someone had opened a door to the outside, and the icy air rushed in. I burrowed deeper trying to find warmth, and then I saw a light floating in the air. It kept coming closer and closer. I could see it in my dresser mirror; it was coming for me. I feared it might burn me—might float right through my body. Then it spoke my name. It said, Georgiana, lovely Georgiana in a voice barely above a whisper. I was so frightened…I tried to move away, but it kept coming after me. Finally, I found my voice, and I started to scream. That is all I remember; I closed my eyes and screamed.”
“Did the light move away when you screamed?” Darcy wanted to know.
She stared at him—not engaged with anything but her tale. “I do not know, Fitzwilliam. When I opened my eyes again, you were here and holding me.”
“Let me have a look around.” Darcy picked up the nearest candleholder and began a minute inspection of the room, looking for anything out of place. He checked the windows for cracks or drafts, but he found nothing out of the ordinary. Elizabeth’s and Georgiana’s eyes followed his progress.When he stepped to the other side of her dressing screen, Georgiana’s attention became more intense.
Elizabeth caught the girl’s hand. “What is it, Georgiana?”
“There!”The girl pointed to the cheval glass mirror beside her dresser. “That is what I saw!”
Elizabeth turned to where the girl pointed. She could see it also: Darcy held his candle high, and it reflected in the mirror. “Fitzwilliam, stay right there,” she ordered. Quickly, Elizabeth rushed about the room extinguishing all the candles she had lit earlier.Then she closed the door so that the dim lights in the hall could not be seen. She returned to sit beside an equally enthralled Georgiana. Together, they stared into the mirror. “Move slowly toward us—around the screen, Fitzwilliam,” Elizabeth uttered cautiously, her eyes locked on the light in the mirror.
Darcy started forward.“No, wait!” Georgiana insisted.“You are too tall, Fitzwilliam. Do it again and bring the candle down to your chest.”
Reluctantly, Darcy turned to the back wall and retraced his steps. When he swiveled to the front again, he carried the candle lower. “Hold it away from your body more,” Elizabeth suggested softly.
“That is it!” Georgiana declared. “That is what I saw.” She and Elizabeth watched as a seemingly disengaged light floated toward them—the light reflected by the mirror, moving on its own.
“It is quite remarkable,” Elizabeth whispered.“Come look, Fitzwilliam ; give me the candle.”They switched places. Elizabeth, being so petite, could not bring about the effect, but Darcy could easily imagine what Georgiana had seen.
“Someone was in my room,” Georgiana gasped. “But I saw no one when I came in from the music room.” She thought aloud. “I was all over the room—sat at the dresser—combed out my hair—put my ribbons away—found some stockings for my feet were cold.” She mentally watched herself move about the room.“Where was he hiding?” Frantically, the girl’s eyes searched the depths of the room.
Elizabeth moved immediately to relight some of the extinguished candles, hoping the light would drive away her sister’s fears.
“Maybe Mrs. Reynolds came to check on you,” Darcy reasoned.
“Then would she not have said something?” Georgiana began to tremble again. “And would you not have seen her leave—the room is at the end of the hall. One must retrace one’s steps to reach either the main stairway or the servants’ stairs.”
“That settles it.” Elizabeth took charge. “You will come back to my room tonight. Tomorrow morning your brother will have additional locks installed on the door, or we will move you to an entirely new room.” She began to gather some of Georgiana’s belongings.
“But I could not,” Georgiana protested.
“You most certainly will.” Elizabeth’s voice said that she would brook no objections. “You and I can share my bed. Back at Longbourn, my dear Jane and I regularly shared the same bed. Or I will leave you to mine alone and join Fitzwilliam in his.” Most aristocratic couples kept separate beds—separate chambers, even—but everyone at Pemberley knew that the Darcys nightly slept in the same bed.
Darcy was less inclined to speak about his and Elizabeth’s sleeping arrangements, but he added, “Elizabeth is correct.You are too upset, my Dear, to find a proper night’s sleep in this room.You will come back with us.” He maneuvered Georgiana toward the door.
“If you are certain, Fitzwilliam.” Georgiana leaned into his shoulder as he sli
pped his arm about her waist to lead his sister away.
For a second time, Elizabeth began to extinguish the candles. When she closed the door to follow her husband and sister, she impulsively looked back. Suddenly, she felt it, too—a cold rush of air from behind the screen, which stood at the side of the room. A deep shiver shot down her spine. Frightened of the unknown, she hurriedly closed the door and raced down the hall to find the comforting arms of her husband.
CHAPTER 5
“ARE YOU CERTAIN THE DRAFT did not come from the hearth?” Darcy and Elizabeth rested together in his bed. They had spent an additional hour distracting Georgiana and making her comfortable in Elizabeth’s chambers before retiring to Darcy’s room.
“I am positive, Fitzwilliam,” she insisted. “It came from behind the screen, where Georgiana claims that she saw the light. It was not a dream, Fitzwilliam. Something is not right—something is happening at Pemberley.”
They whispered together. The adjoining doors to their dressing rooms remained open, in case Georgiana felt uneasy. “What has happened has a logical explanation,” he declared. “I do not believe in ghosts or other apparitions.Whatever is happening here is manmade.”
The Phantom of Pemberley Page 7
