“That is not what I meant.”
“I know you did not.” Pierce stood and half turned away from her, probably embarrassed by her immaturity. “Let us worry about the here and now and leave the future to take care of itself.”
In other words, he is anxious to leave me, Anne thought desolately. “What shall you do?” she asked.
“Find another position,” he said, not looking at her. “What else can I do?”
Chapter Seventeen
“You had best be off to Lambton, Cox,” Joshua told to his valet later that afternoon. “Even if Sheffield hired a saddle horse from Newcastle instead of springing for a private carriage to complete his journey, he ought to have arrived in the village by now.”
“Right you are, sir. I shall see you there later.”
“That you will.” Joshua flexed his jaw. “You know what you have to say?”
Cox nodded. “That I do, sir.”
“Keep your wits about you. By all accounts, Sheffield is nobody’s fool.”
Joshua stared out of the window for a long time after Cox had left, wondering if there was the remotest possibility of this plan actually working. They intended to play on a greedy man’s rapacious nature, along with his arrogant assumption that no female on the planet could help but fall for his looks and charm—especially one as sheltered and innocent as they planned to make Anne sound.
The difficulty was that Sheffield appeared to have developed a genuine attachment to Celia, damn his eyes. If she gave him the remotest encouragement during their meeting the following day, albeit unintentional, the product of her nerves, Sheffield might just decide he would prefer to settle for less blunt if it meant he could have Celia. Joshua groaned in frustration. If the man was that fargone, nothing they did to try to gull him into indiscretion would have the desired effect.
Joshua forced himself to give Cox an hour’s head start, filling the interminable wait by pacing the length of his chamber, deep in thought about his meeting with Celia earlier. Even if he did manage to get the better of Sheffield, he had come to the agonising yet incontrovertible decision that he would definitely not ask her to marry him. The only way he could show how much he loved her was by restoring her property to her and setting her free of all commitment to him.
He tightly compressed his lips as he withstood the debilitating pain brought on by his decision. Her desire to be kissed by him that afternoon implied that she enjoyed his society. She definitely hadn’t kissed him solely out of a sense of gratitude, but that was neither here nor there. Mrs. Celia Sheffield deserved time and solitude in which to consider her future, without Joshua around to muddy her thinking. He would leave here as soon as this matter was resolved, and of course after he had weathered the storm that would rage when he told Lady Catherine he would not be marrying Anne.
With a heavy heart, Joshua slid his arms into his greatcoat and left the house by the side door that led to the mews, anxious not to draw attention to himself. If he encountered Lady Catherine, she would most likely demand to know where he was going, and why. Fortunately, that situation did not arise, and minutes later he was cantering his horse down the drive in the direction of Lambton.
He left his mount in the care of the head groom at Lambton Inn, a man he knew well, and pushed open the door to the taproom. As he would expect at this hour, he found it crowded to capacity with thirsty men eager to wash away the dust from a day’s work with a tankard of ale or two. The noise of a dozen different conversations filled the air, as did smoke from a fire fuelled by peat that was obviously still damp. The odour of unwashed bodies and spilt ale barely registered with Joshua as he scanned the crowd, looking for Cox. He panicked when it occurred to him that a man of Sheffield’s ilk may prefer not to share the taproom with farm labourers, gardeners from the Pemberley estate, market traders and assorted locals. If he had chosen to hire a private room instead, Joshua’s plan would not even get off the ground. He released a long breath when he observed Cox at a corner table with a man who could only be Sheffield.
Joshua caught the landlord’s attention and ordered a tankard of ale. Then he stood to one side of the room for a moment, watching Sheffield, sizing him up carefully. It was impossible to tell how tall he was since he was seated. Even to someone as predisposed as Joshua was to dislike him, he had to concede the man was blessed with more than his share of good looks. Long fair hair fell across a face with features that attractively complemented one another—no crooked nose or jutting jaw to spoil the picture. He was dressed elegantly in the latest style, even if his boots still showed signs of dust from the road. It was obvious he felt perfectly at his ease in this environment as he banged his empty tankard on the table to attract the attention of the barmaid. He was served quickly. Millie had received instructions from Cox, and a healthy tip, to ensure the ale flowed. She flashed a flirtatious smile as she placed a full tankard in front of Sheffield and then bustled away to serve others.
“Hey, Fitzwilliam. I did not know you planned to come into Lambton this evening.” Cox waved to Joshua, just as they had agreed he would. “I thought you preferred to drown your sorrows with Darcy’s expensive brandy.”
“Needed to get away from Pemberley,” Joshua replied, pulling out a chair next to Cox and seating himself.
“This is the friend I was telling you about,” Cox said to Sheffield. “Sheffield, meet Fitzwilliam, the luckiest man on earth with a face like a badger’s arse to prove it.” Cox laughed at his own joke and slapped Joshua’s shoulder. “Sheffield here has just arrived from London.”
Joshua grunted and kept his attention focused on his ale.
“Sorry about my friend’s lack of manners,” Cox said. “You’d think that marrying one of the richest heiresses in the country would be cause for celebration.” Cox chuckled. “As you can see, Fitzwilliam is in raptures at the prospect.”
Joshua shot his valet an evil look that caused Cox to laugh harder.
“I’ve only been here for an hour,” Sheffield said, “but all I hear mention of is the great Pemberley. Is that where you’re staying?”
Cox nodded. “Darcy is Fitzwilliam’s cousin. I’m here for moral support.”
Joshua snorted. “Nothing moral about you.”
“I aim to please.”
“I hear there is a Miss Darcy. Is she your intended, Fitzwilliam?”
“Miss Anne de Bourgh is the lady in question,” Cox replied, because Joshua was concentrating on his brooding expression, and on his ale. “She is ten times more consequential than Miss Darcy.” Cox took a sip of his ale, warming to his theme. “Imagine an estate at least as grand as Pemberley, run by a widow who has just one child set to inherit the lot.” He paused for effect. “A daughter.”
“Is that what you’re in such a funk about, Fitzwilliam?” Sheffield asked, looking incredulous. “What great good fortune. It sounds like manna from heaven to me. Every man in the land would give his right arm to be in your boots, I shouldn’t wonder.”
“Any man with half a brain would agree with you, Sheffield, except it seems, for the would-be bridegroom.”
“And why is that?” Sheffield’s tankard was empty again. Glancing up, Joshua noticed that his eyes were glazing over. Good. Millie had obviously remembered Cox’s instructions and put a tot of rum into each of Sheffield’s tankards. He would never notice the addition against the strong spicy taste of the famous local ale. “I say, this ale is just the thing. Damned odd aftertaste, but it grows on a man. ” He banged his tankard down, and once again Millie replenished it in double-quick time, saving a saucy wink for Cox as she turned away.
“My lunatic of a friend has taken a fancy to another lady,” Cox said, rolling his eyes. “Claims to be in love, whatever that is supposed to mean.”
“What is this heiress like?” Sheffield asked, his expression calculating.
Joshua continued glaring morosely at the table, and again it was Cox who answered him. “Small, quiet as a church mouse, biddable, not bad looking but shy and u
nworldly. Spent most of her childhood fighting illness so she ain’t seen much of life beyond Kent.”
Sheffield, now definitely the worse for drink, leaned back in his chair and stared at the soot-blackened beams above his head. “Let me see if I understand you a’right. You have the chance to become master of a vast valuable estate, Fitzwilliam, with just a sickly wife and her compliant mother in your way.” A bark of a laugh escaped Joshua at the thought of Lady Catherine ever being compliant but he quickly turned it into a cough. “Are you out of your senses, man? You can buy a dozen other women once you’ve married into that sort of money.”
“That’s what I keep trying to tell him but it don’t do me no good.” Cox pulled a disgruntled face. “He’s got it bad for this lady of his.”
“Must be quite a stunner,” Sheffield remarked.
“She would never agree to be my mistress,” Joshua said, addressing the comment to his ale. “Anyway, she deserves better than that.”
“We always want what we can’t have.” Sheffield took another long swig of his rum-laced ale and smacked his lips together in appreciation. “I’ll tell you what. I will do you a good turn and change places with you.” He chuckled to show he was joking but Joshua could tell the idea had taken root. “Far be it from me to stand in the way of true love. Besides, it sounds to me like your Miss de Bourgh is ripe for the plucking.”
“Reads lots of romantic fiction, so she does,” Cox replied, “and expects to be swept off her feet with grand romantic gestures. A good-looking man like you could probably melt her precious little heart in no time flat, but it wouldn’t be any use. Her mama has quite made up her mind that only Fitzwilliam will do.”
Sheffield belched. “Changing the minds of mamas is something I excel at, along with avoiding irate husbands of course.” He chuckled. “Whoops, bit indiscreet there.”
“You haven’t told us what brings you to this part of the world,” Cox said.
“Ah, I have come to see my late brother’s wife. He made a fortune in Jamaica, bought an estate here and left it to me. Problem is his lovely wife didn’t know it and ain’t too happy about the way things have turned out. I reckon she’ll soon see sense though ’cause she sent for me.” Sheffield’s lecherous grin caused Joshua to clench his fists beneath the table. It was the only way he could be sure of not planting the man a facer for his insolence. “I think her and me could make ourselves very cosy back in Buckinghamshire.”
“Dare say you could,” Cox replied. “Shame about that. Perhaps you could have done Don Juan here a favour and taken Miss de Bourgh off his hands, but it won’t serve, not if you already have a love nest set up elsewhere. What you do after you tie the knot is another matter, but Lady Catherine would check up on you if you turned her daughter’s head and the slightest whiff of scandal would give her the excuse to cut off all relations.”
“What are you talking about, Cox?” Joshua asked, slamming down his tankard. “I might not want to marry Anne but you can’t just try and palm her off onto a stranger.”
“Just trying to be of service.”
“Hmm.” Joshua staggered to his feet, giving every impression of being in his cups when in fact he was icily sober. “We had best get back to Pemberley. It’s almost dinner time.”
“So it is.” Cox stood up and shook Sheffield’s hand. Joshua couldn’t bring himself to do the same. “Nice meeting you, Sheffield, and good luck with your business. We might meet again if you’re here for a while. Fitzwilliam seems to find his way in here most nights to drown his sorrows and someone has to make sure he gets back to Pemberley in one piece.”
Joshua and Cox walked away, leaving Sheffield in a pensive frame of mind.
“Well done, Cox,” Joshua said when they reached the mews and reclaimed their horses. “You sowed the seed perfectly.”
“What will happen now?”
“Sheffield will ask more questions about Pemberley and Lady Catherine. Everyone here will tell him the same thing. That Rosings is as grand as Pemberley and he will discover that everything we told him is true. You know how every tiny detail connected to the Darcy family is the equivalent of folklore around these parts. He had his eye on Millie, and she will certainly set him straight.”
They mounted up and trotted down the village street side by side. It was a fine evening. A lot of people were out for a stroll, smiling indulgently at children with energy to burn who enjoyed a rough and tumble at the side of the road. Fitzwilliam acknowledged one or two people he recognised as they made their way back.
“All we can hope for now,” Joshua added, “is that Mrs. Sheffield plays her part right.”
***
The next morning Joshua waited impatiently for Celia to join him in their usual place. When their appointed time came and went, and there was no sign of her, he became anxious that something had gone wrong. Perhaps Sheffield had somehow coerced her into parting with her property. He was at the point of making his way to Briar Hall, no longer caring if he exposed himself to Sheffield, when she ran breathlessly into the clearing. She was bareheaded, her face flushed and her eyes huge and luminous. To Joshua she had never looked lovelier, but he could see she was distressed, and his resolve not to actually touch her in an inappropriate manner did not survive the first minute. He opened his arms and she flung herself into them.
“Sorry, he was late arriving.”
“That is probably my fault. We managed to get him intoxicated.”
“Ah, that explains it. He didn’t look quite as debonair as usual.”
“Was it so very bad?” he asked, brushing his lips across the top of her head when he felt her entire body tremble.
“I hate being in the same room with that man,” she cried passionately. “I always feel the need to wash after speaking with him. There is just something predatory about him that makes me shudder. He reminds me of a wild animal on the prowl.”
“A very apt description.”
Joshua forced himself to release his hold on her. “Tell me what he said and how you responded. I need to know it all.”
“I asked to see the will and he had the original in his coat pocket. I got the impression he always carries it with him.”
“Which is exceedingly foolish of him but typical of his arrogance.”
“He was at his most charming and persuasive, suggesting there was no reason why we shouldn’t share the property.” Celia tossed her head and sniffed. “He made it clear without actually saying so, that was not all he expected to share.”
Joshua was filled with a murderous rage but quelled it with difficulty. As a soldier he knew very well that rational decisions could not be made when one allowed passion to overcome reason. “I hope you told him you planned to have the will authenticated.”
“Certainly I did and he wasn’t at all pleased to hear it. He said it could take months, all but implying he didn’t have months to wait.”
“You think he has pressing debts?”
She wrinkled her nose. “He usually does. He enjoys playing cards but doesn’t always win. Anyway, he was not impressed by my procrastination and went to a lot of trouble to try and talk me around. I told him I had no desire to share my house with him and that his attempts to try and take it from me had caused me to lose all respect for him. Not that I had any in the first place, but still.”
“You did well.” He broke his resolve for a second time by reaching out and gently touching her face. “But now it is over. You can leave the rest to me and need never see him again.”
“What happened at the inn last night?”
They walked together, her hand on his arm as he told her.
“Cox and I will return this evening and I have every expectation of getting him to admit the will is a forgery. He is desperate for easy money, will have asked about Anne and found out what I told him, or rather what Cox told him about her situation, is true.” Joshua allowed himself a prolonged glance at her lovely profile, dying a little inside when he recalled his decision not to press her
into matrimony. To walk away and leave her to live her life on her own terms would be like tearing out his own heart with a blunt spoon. But he would do it because it was the right, the honourable thing to do. He should never have allowed himself to get carried away by thoughts of what could never be. “I have met men like him before. He will not be able to resist.”
She sighed. “You make it all sound so straightforward.”
“There isn’t any reason why it should not be.” Joshua patted her hand. “Anyway, tonight will tell.”
“And will you let me know as soon as you possibly can? I shall be in a fervour of expectation.”
“I promise to send word immediately.”
“Will you not come yourself?”
Joshua avoided making an answer, unwilling to commit himself to a promise he could not afford to keep. His resolve was not that strong. He escorted her back to the house but declined her invitation to go inside. He had no wish to explain his presence to Lady Briar. He had every wish to prolong his time with Celia but what would be the point? His mind was made up. He raised her hand to his lips, kissed the back of it and bade her adieu. He sensed her confused gaze boring into his back as he strode away to the position where he had left his horse but didn’t look back. He couldn’t allow her to see his expression, which he suspected was as bleak and desolate as his empty heart.
Joshua had just spent the last moments he would allow himself to be alone with the only woman he would ever love.
***
Joshua and Cox arrived earlier at the Lambton Inn that evening and Sheffield wasn’t yet in the tap room. Millie sent Cox a cheerful wink, implying Sheffield had asked all the questions they predicted he would and received the right answers. Confident Sheffield would appear, they took their tankards to a table by the window and waited. They heard booted feet clumping down the wooden stairs a short time later and Sheffield came into the taproom. Joshua pretended not to see him and continued to stare into his ale.
Colonel Fitzwilliam's Dilemma Page 21
