The Phantom of Pemberley

by Regina Jeffers

  “I suppose it would.Thank you, Fitzwilliam, for understanding.”

  “Think nothing of it. If I cannot fulfill the position of husband, at least, I can portend the role of brother.”

  “That is most comforting.”They caught hands as he led her to the door. Anne turned to him before making her exit. “Mrs. Darcy is a very fortunate woman. She married into the highest realm of the land, and I do not speak of Pemberley’s wealth.” Going up on tiptoe, she kissed Darcy’s cheek.

  “Go and find your happiness, Cousin,” he murmured.

  “I will, sir,” she replied.Then she swept from the room.

  Anne found Georgiana and Evelyn Williams in the rose-colored drawing room. Both worked at their embroidery, a task Anne found tedious.“What say you,” she asked as she joined them,“to performing a play? I thought it might be a way of passing the hours. We could create costumes or just use our everyday clothing. Nothing spectacular—just us, enjoying one another’s company.”

  “I have never tried to act,” Georgiana began. “I am not sure I could deliver a line without choking on the words.”

  “Even if you forgot your lines, no one would care.”Anne reached for Georgiana’s hand, needing her family to agree to her first attempt at defining herself. “Do you think I have ever enjoyed such freedoms? We would experience it together. Besides, we have a predominance of women in the house.We can take the part of men and lose ourselves in the roles.”

  Georgiana asked, “Do you believe the others might agree?”

  “How do we know unless we ask? This is the first time I have ever suggested something that my mother has not prompted.”Anne was intoxicated with the possibilities before her.

  “What of you, Mrs. Williams?” Georgiana asked as she turned to the older woman.“Might you care to join us if we can persuade the others?”

  Mrs. Williams vehemently declared, “My late mother believed the theater leads to the worst vices.”

  Anne flinched with the woman’s censure, but she forced herself not to succumb to her own feelings. “I would not call what we attempt theater, Mrs.Williams, but if you choose not to participate, we understand. Come, Georgiana, let us find the others.” Anne gently pulled the girl to her feet. “I am sure that Mrs. Wickham will be happy to perform with us.”

  “I hope Elizabeth will also agree to take part.” Arm in arm, they walked toward the open door.

  Finding several of the guests still lingering in the morning room, Anne, a bit embarrassed but willing to try something new, cleared her throat to catch their attention. “Georgiana and I thought we might perform a play among ourselves to pass the time—nothing elaborate, just us trying to put the storm and the gloom of the past few days behind us.”

  Cathleen’s eyes lit with eagerness. “That sounds like something I might enjoy. I missed the outside day because of my accident. I would like to get to know the others better. Have you chosen a piece to perform?”

  Laughing at herself for not having thought that far ahead, Anne glanced quickly at Georgiana for suggestions.The thought of performing had occurred to her only after she had left Darcy’s study. He had told her to find her happiness, and Anne had always wanted to perform plays. It seemed a natural consequence of their heartfelt conversation. “I do not believe that either my cousin or I hold a preference for a particular play.”

  “Might I make a suggestion?” Cathleen continued. Anne and Georgiana nodded their agreement. “A tragedy under the circumstances seems inappropriate. A comedy, probably something from Shakespeare, seems feasible. How about Much Ado About Nothing?”

  Georgiana confided, “Elizabeth loves that play!”

  Anne thoroughly enjoyed Georgiana’s growing excitement. “Then Much Ado About Nothing should be our choice. Thank you, Miss Donnel, for your suggestion and for accepting our idea as your own.”

  Mr.Worth looked up from an old copy of the Times. “I am not much of a performer, but you may count on me, Miss de Bourgh.” He caught Anne’s eye and winked.

  “Thank you, Mr.Worth.”

  “And you,Your Lordship?” Georgiana prompted.

  “Why not?” Adam Lawrence placed his napkin beside his plate. “It is not as if we have had much else to entertain us.”

  “May we all meet in the ballroom in an hour?” Anne quickly organized the group before they could change their minds. “I suppose we must find a copy of the play. I am sure Mr. Darcy owns at least one copy of the work.”

  “I believe I saw copies of Shakespeare’s works in the gentleman’s library,”Worth announced as he rose to his feet.“Let me help you find a copy, Miss de Bourgh.” He came around the table’s end to where Anne stood.

  His presence sent a shiver down Anne’s spine, but she managed to send Georgiana to secure Elizabeth’s and Lydia’s consent. “We will see you in an hour,” she declared as she took Worth’s proffered arm.

  “Where could Mr. Darcy keep his copies of Shakespeare?” Anne asked as she scanned the shelves for the books. Having confessed to Darcy her interest in the man who accompanied her into the library suddenly made Anne nervous.

  Worth stepped behind her. He had dreamed of Anne de Bourgh the previous night. Speaking softly, close to her ear, he said, “I believe you will find Mr. Darcy treats his library as he treats his life: The man cannot tolerate disorganization. The books are shelved alphabetically by the author’s last name.We simply need to find the letter S.”

  Anne turned to face him, expecting Worth to step back, but he held his ground, and she found herself only inches from the man. “Shall we,” she murmured nervously, “look for that letter?”

  Worth touched her cheek lightly with his fingertip. “You have beautiful eyes, Miss de Bourgh.They haunted my dreams last evening.”

  Anne blushed immediately. “Mr. Worth, although your words give me pleasure, I cannot encourage you to speak so forwardly.” She tried to look away, but Worth’s intensity held her gaze.

  “Miss de Bourgh, I am in my late thirties. If I am to finally choose a woman who holds my interest, I do not intend that my wooing game be an extended one. It is inappropriate to declare my desires so soon after your loss, but when the arrangements for dear Mrs. Jenkinson are complete, I will press my suit.”

  Anne flushed once more, but she gathered her nerve to catch Worth’s hand with hers and turned to kiss his palm. “I would be pleased to accept your regard. Mildred would love the possibilities; I believe it to be one of her last wishes.”

  Worth brought Anne’s hand to his lips and kissed her fingertips. “I am your servant, Miss de Bourgh.”

  Anne smiled brightly. “We have a play to find, Mr.Worth.”

  “That we do, Miss Anne.” His laughter filled the room. He turned toward the shelf holding the many volumes of Shakespeare. “I believe what we seek can be found over here,” he said loudly for the benefit of any servants lurking in the hallway.

  “You are correct, Mr. Worth,” she announce just as loudly. Anne watched as he stretched and retrieved the tome. The man possessed an interesting face and a solidly built body, and Anne knew him to be a man of compassion—a man who could care for her and her alone.

  “And what do you wish me to do?” Elizabeth had cornered Darcy in one of the servant entrances to the below-stairs area.

  “I expect you to enjoy your exploits in the performing arts.” He leaned close, so that only she might hear. “And, more importantly, use your intuition. Please watch and listen and be my eyes and my ears. I need to know more about our guests, and I am depending on you to supply me with that information.” Darcy nestled her in the curve of his body, touching Elizabeth’s back—his right hand splayed over her hips.

  She smiled up at him mischievously. “Your hand tells me you wish something else, my Husband.

  Darcy’s left hand caressed the side of her face, while his right nudged her forward. “All you must do, Elizabeth, is smile at me or walk into a room or speak my name, and I am lost to you and you alone. I am even more besotted with y
ou now that you carry our child.” His warm breath teased her ear.“In you, I know both affection and passion.”

  Elizabeth laughed softly, reaching up to brush away the lock of hair falling over his forehead. “As for me, I have no notion of loving people in halves. My attachments are always excessively strong. I believe my feelings are stronger than anybody’s,” she said. “I am sure they are too strong for my own peace of mind.”

  “Well, I suppose my obsession is perfectly appropriate then.” Darcy brushed her lips with his. “You have placed me under your spell.” The fragrance of lavender, which always clung to her skin, swept over him.

  They had come from different worlds, but knew the same desires—possessed the same perspectives. Their need for each other ran deep—a profound connection. Elizabeth ached for him—could not deny her need for his approval, even when she had foolishly thought that Darcy disapproved of her. Then one day, he had opened himself to her—let her see his vulnerability—see his fears and his hopes—see the part of him that Darcy secreted away from the world. From that moment forward, she had begun to comprehend that he was exactly the man, who in disposition and talents, would most suit her. “I will join the others now,” she rasped, hearing the approach of one of the servants at the end of the passageway. Darcy reluctantly released her. “Until later, Mr. Darcy.” Elizabeth dropped a curtsy and disappeared through the side door.

  Darcy watched her go, his eyes tracing her form. “It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife,” he whispered to the empty hallway. He chuckled. When I was single, I feared that notion; only now do I understand its wisdom—for the man of wealth and the man of modest means.

  James observed the group gathered in the ballroom. He rested against the backside of an Athenian column supporting the main wall. Hidden by a balcony-like façade, he observed closely the dynamics of the group as they planned a theatrical performance. He knew most of the players, but no one had told him of Nigel Worth’s presence at Pemberley. He would have a little talk with Peter about not keeping him informed. He did not like surprises, and Peter Whittington knew him better than anyone else—knew his likes and dislikes intimately.Although James had not seen Worth in nearly five years, he remembered his distaste for Worth’s arrogance and his envy of Worth’s knowledge of the law. James had once considered the study of the law, but his talents had taken him elsewhere—to the underbelly of society.

  Now, he wondered if he might not include Worth in his plan for revenge.“Two birds and one stone,” he muttered.Worth seemed quite taken with Miss Anne de Bourgh. Darcy’s cousin, he thought, as he closed and locked the opening through which he had peered. The lady might serve as a means to exact revenge on both Darcy and Worth. He would use the information about Worth and Anne’s flirtation to his own advantage. As he was well aware, the de Bourghs were very wealthy, and he always needed money.“Something good this way comes,” he added as he made his way to his makeshift bed. “Pemberley is a house of infinite possibilities.”

  “Then we are agreed.” Anne led the group’s discussion. “We will select poignant scenes to recreate the main plot of the play. Some of us will enact more than one part, especially as we have only two males, and they must be Benedick and Claudio.”

  Elizabeth caught Georgiana around the waist. “Well, I, for one, am looking forward to playing a man’s role, and I am sure my sister, Miss Darcy, feels the same.” She squeezed the girl to her teasingly. “After all, Shakespeare had men playing the female roles.”

  “I think it quite generous of you to offer to perform many of the minor parts, Mrs. Darcy,” Miss Donnel remarked. “It will take some creative staging to tell the story with so few performers.”

  “It will be great sport,” Anne asserted, before organizing the papers strewn on the floor.“We will stage the masque, the plot against Benedick and Beatrice by the Prince, Borachio’s seduction of Margaret, the first wedding scene, Beatrice’s demand that Benedick kill Claudio, Dogberry’s questioning of Don John’s men, the second wedding, and the lovers’ declaration. Is that the extent of our scenes?” Anne quickly surveyed their faces for approval. When no one offered objections, she settled back into her role as the group’s leader. Only eight and forty hours earlier, she could not have filled the role of director; or, at least, she would have believed it impossible. Be daring, Anne, she urged herself. It is the way forward. “Then let us read through the scenes and meet back here in, let us say, two hours to begin our rehearsals.”

  As the others stood, Elizabeth heard Lydia complain, “I do not see why I must play Margaret. I would make a more plausible Hero.”

  Georgiana intervened. Until that moment, Darcy’s sister had avoided Mr. Wickham’s new wife. It was as though Anne’s new approach inspired Georgiana. “It would be more fitting for Miss Donnel and Lord Stafford to commit to the roles. They are close and can say hurtful lines without offering an offense. Would you not think so, Mrs.Wickham?”

  Lydia begrudgingly agreed, but she remained less than happy about the choice.

  “Mr.Worth consented to be your Borachio,” Elizabeth said encouragingly. “That is an agreeable situation, and you do have one of the more provocative scenes.” Elizabeth smiled teasingly.“Hero is too bland a character for your talents, Lyddie. Be part of my and Miss Darcy’s group of minor characters.” She brought the two younger girls together in a tight circle. “I propose we do something of our own to spice up our roles as men.” Elizabeth glanced around to be sure no one else could hear them.“I say we dress in men’s clothing.”

  Georgiana gasped. “We cannot, Elizabeth!”

  “We can, Georgiana. It will be great fun. I will have Mr. Darcy help us find some men’s breeches and some shirts.” Amusement danced in her eyes.

  “Oh, Lord.” Georgiana turned pale.“Fitzwilliam will never tolerate it.”

  “Lizzy has a way with Mr. Darcy,” Lydia asserted. “I never thought to see the day when Mr. Darcy would even consider dancing with Elizabeth, let alone marrying her. If anyone can persuade him to permit such a scheme, it is my sister.”

  Georgiana paused, recalling those early days after Elizabeth’s arrival at Pemberley. At first she often listened with an astonishment bordering on alarm at her new sister’s lively, sportive manner of talking to her brother. He, who had always inspired in Georgiana a respect, which almost overcame her affection, she saw the object of open pleasantry. Her mind received knowledge, which had never before fallen in her way. By Elizabeth’s instructions, Georgiana began to comprehend that a woman may take liberties with her husband, which a brother will not always allow in a sister more than ten years younger than himself. Georgiana giggled nervously. “I have always wondered about the freedom men’s clothing affords.”

  “Then I will see to it.” Elizabeth smiled. “Let us find some tea in the rose drawing room, and then we will map out our scenes. I wish to be Dogberry; his mutilation of the King’s English fascinates me.” She led them toward the main door, her arms wrapped around their waists.

  Suddenly, Georgiana froze in place. “Oh, Elizabeth, you must say that word!” she exclaimed, both terrified and amused.

  Elizabeth paused, trying to imagine Georgiana’s horror, repeating the play’s lines in her head.Then she snorted.“I will, will I not, Georgiana? I must say the word ass repeatedly. Ooh, I do so love this play.” She gave Georgiana a quick hug.“Come, girls, I will need much practice to say my lines without blushing.”

  CHAPTER 13

  “WE HAVE ONLY ONE more scene through which to read,” Worth told Anne, as they hid themselves away, by common assent, on the same bench they had occupied previously in the conservatory. It offered them privacy. If anyone questioned their withdrawal, they would place the blame on the need to practice their scenes. They played lead parts, Beatrice and Benedick.

  “Scene four of act five,” Anne noted, “after the second wedding scene.” She flipped through the pages to find the place.
Sitting close together, they read from the same book.“Are you ready, Mr.Worth?”

  “Absolutely, Miss de Bourgh.”

  Anne pointed to the passage. “You may begin, sir.”

  Worth cleared his throat before declaring, “Soft and fair, Friar. Which is Beatrice?”

  Anne moved a bit closer. “I answer to that name. What is your will?”

  “Do you love me?”Worth gazed at Anne’s profile.

  She huskily whispered her lines.“Why, no, no more than reason.”

  Worth returned his attention to the play. “Why, then your uncle and the Prince and Claudio have been deceived. They swore you did,” he read.

  Anne asked flirtatiously, “Do not you love me?”

  “Troth, no, no more than reason.”

  “Why then my cousin, Margaret, and Ursula are much deceived, for they did swear you did.”

  Worth caught Anne’s hand in his, letting his finger trace a circle in her palm. “They swore that you were almost sick for me.”

  Anne copied his teasing tone. “They swore that you were well-nigh dead for me.”

  “’Tis no such matter. Then you do not love me?” He raised an eyebrow and his partner burst into laughter.

  Composing herself, Anne read, “No, truly, but in friendly recompense.”

  Worth looked down at the script. “Then Leonato, Claudio, and Hero produce the poem Benedick has written to Beatrice and Beatrice’s letter to Benedick.” He held up his invisible prop, a letter, and studied it.Then he read the lines, “A miracle! Here is our own hands against our hearts. Come, I will have thee, but by this light I take thee for pity.”