“Let him come to us,” he told Cox.
Sure enough, he did precisely that. Raising a hand in greeting, he pulled out a chair at their table without being invited to do so.
“Evening,” Sheffield said, looking and sounding a little less chipper than he had the previous day. “Mind if I join you?”
Joshua merely shrugged. Cox was more forthcoming. “By all means,” he said. “How did your business go today?”
Sheffield grunted. “Damned woman thinks she can lead me a merry dance and get away with it. Why the devil can’t women just do as they’re told and leave the thinking to us men, as they are supposed to?”
“See,” Cox said. “I told you Sheffield and Miss de Bourgh would be a perfect match. She would never dare to answer back.”
“Miss de Bourgh, Miss de Bourgh,” Joshua growled, scowling at the world in general. “I came here to get away from the sound of her name for an hour or two.”
“Is she really that biddable?” Sheffield asked.
“Oh aye. Brought up to be seen and not heard,” Cox replied. “You would think, what with her being such a grand heiress, she would be high and mighty but the truth is she hardly opens her mouth.”
“She sounds too good to be true.” Sheffield shook his head. “You’re a few farthings short of a guinea, Fitzwilliam, and don’t know when you’re well off.”
“His latest plan if you can believe it, is to propose to his lady love and ask her to live on a colonel’s pay,” Cox said, looking totally disgusted. “She would be a damned fool to even consider it. She can do much better than that but Fitzwilliam won’t listen to a word I tell him.”
“Money ain’t everything,” Joshua replied.
Cox rolled his eyes but made no comment.
“It is when you don’t have any,” Sheffield said. “You can take my word for that.”
“Darcy will give me a helping hand,” Joshua mumbled.
“Are you really serious about passing the heiress up?” Sheffield said, tucking into his second tankard of ale in ten minutes.
Joshua shrugged.
“You can take it from me that he is,” Cox said. “I know him when he makes up his mind about something. Wild horses couldn’t change it.”
“Then I don’t suppose you could arrange for me to accidentally meet the lady. I might be able to help you out by turning her head.”
“Hardly.”
“It is possible I suppose,” Cox said in a pensive tone. “Nothing to stop you inviting Sheffield to Pemberley for dinner, Fitzwilliam. I’m sure Mrs. Darcy won’t mind. You know how fond she is of you, for some obscure reason.”
“It will never work,” Joshua said. “Miss de Bourgh would never go against her mother’s wishes.”
“Care to take a wager on that?” Sheffield asked smugly, proving Celia’s point about his penchant for gambling. “I have a way with the ladies. Besides, if I do manage to pull it off I’d make it worth your while, Fitzwilliam. Give you enough for you to keep your lady in style.”
“You don’t have much of a way with the lady you came up here to deal with, by all accounts.” Sheffield scowled at Joshua’s words but said nothing. “Talking of which, you can’t even think about pursuing Miss de Bourgh if you’re in dispute over this other property. Lady Catherine would cut her daughter off without a penny if she thought you were a-party to any questionable transactions, especially if there’s a lady involved.”
Sheffield was quiet for a long time. Joshua’s nerves were on edge, but he forced himself to remain quiet and let the man sup his ale while he thought things through. Cox opened his mouth to break the silence but Joshua kicked his shin and he quickly closed it again.
“Perdition, Mrs. Sheffield has left me with no choice.” Sheffield’s expression filled with rage. “I don’t have time on my side, or I would—”
“But if you have genuine claim to the property, why would you give that up on the off chance that you might be able to woo Miss de Bourgh? I assume you have debts, who doesn’t? But I dare say your creditors would be prepared to wait if they knew you have expectations.” Cox scratched his chin. “This sudden desire to pursue a lady you’ve never met sounds a bit tenuous to me.”
“Stupidest idea I ever heard,” Joshua grumbled.
“Damned strong this ale.” Millie’s rum measures were obviously generous this evening and Sheffield was already slurring his words. “Truth to tell, I don’t actually have a legitimate claim to the estate.” Joshua tensed. There he’d said it, just like that. Cox had heard him. So too had Millie, who loitered directly behind their table. “My brother intended to change his will but didn’t get around to doing so before he died. Didn’t seem right that the cold bitch he was married to should get it all when I had toiled hard to get us to the point we were at. I’ll admit I cut a few corners to get us there but taking chances is what I do best. My brother was cut from a different cloth and never would have had the nerve to do what I did. Come to that, he never would have had anything if it weren’t for me driving him on and keeping a steady nerve when all he could do was bleat about what might go wrong.” Sheffield leaned back in his chair and scratched his thigh. “The way I see it, God helps them as helps themselves. Anyway, Albert ain’t no great loss, truth to tell. He died trying to save some damned useless slaves.” He rolled his eyes in disgust. “What a fool!”
“If he was such a lost cause, how did he became a plantation owner rather than you?” Joshua asked.
“Ah well now, that was merely an accident of birth. He got all the help to get started simply because he was older than me and our father’s favourite.” Sheffield focused a glower on his tankard which was again almost empty. “He was also better at routine than me, I’ll give him that. Order, method and prudence were his bywords. Me? I like to get something started, which I did by pointing out the opportunities in Jamaica to Albert. He never would have taken the plunge if I hadn’t been there to hold his hand. So the man owed me. No question about it.” He ground his jaw. “And I aim to collect, one way or another.”
The man was deranged, which made him dangerous and unpredictable. A cold chill worked its way through Joshua’s body. He relaxed when he reminded himself that they had caught him out. He had condemned himself with his own words, and there was no further damage he could do to Celia or her property.
“Sounds as though you deserve something,” Cox agreed.
And he’s about to get it, Joshua thought with satisfaction. Unfortunately for him, it will not be what he expected.
“Damned right I do,” Sheffield slurred.
“How did you come by a will?” Cox asked.
“I had someone in Jamaica forge it for me, along with a partnership agreement. It looks genuine and I figured she would believe it was. It fooled my brother’s own solicitor, but the damned woman just won’t lie down and accept it.” Sheffield jutted his chin. “I really didn’t think she would make so much fuss, and truth be told I’m too hard pressed to wait on the off chance that she might feed me a few crumbs.” He sat forward and leaned both forearms on the table, suddenly appearing disconcertingly alert and sober. “So, when can I meet the lovely Miss de Bourgh?”
“That won’t be possible,” Joshua said, standing and pulling himself up to his full height.
“Hey, just a minute.” Sheffield’s momentary confusion gave way to anger. “What is all this? You said—”
Cox stood also. “No, I believe the suggestion came from you.”
“Did you just hear this man admit to trying to gull Mrs. Sheffield?” Joshua asked.
“Yes, sir,” Cox replied without hesitation. “I heard him clear as day.”
“So did I,” Millie said cheerfully from behind them.
“What is all this? Why should you care?”
“The game’s up, Sheffield.” Joshua’s harsh tone rang with the authority that usually had everyone scurrying to carry out his orders. “Now here is what will happen. Firstly, you will write a letter confirming you are making no further claim u
pon Mrs. Sheffield’s estate.”
“The devil I will!”
“When you have done that you will leave Derbyshire immediately. You will go nowhere near Mrs. Sheffield or her property ever again. If you do, I’ll have you taken in charge to account for the crime you just admitted to in front of witnesses.”
“Mrs. Sheffield.” A slow grin of comprehension spread across Sheffield’s face. “She’s the woman you’ve fallen for, ain’t she? That’s why you set me up like this. Well, you’re wasting your time. She’s as cold as ice. My brother told me as much more than once. She’s just used you to get the better of me, but you’ll get nothing from her in return.”
The urge to strike the man grew more compelling by the minute. “Unlike you, I do not help a lady in expectation of receiving anything in return.”
Sheffield stood up on unsteady legs and glowered at Joshua. “This ain’t over,” he said belligerently.
Before Joshua realised what he intended to do, Sheffield roared and aimed a roundhouse punch to his gut. Joshua turned sideways and deflected the worst of it, but it still hurt like the devil. Ignoring the pain, he drew back his arm and finally had the satisfaction of doing what he had been itching to do these past two days. His clenched fist connected squarely with Sheffield’s face. He thought of Celia Sheffield and the pain this man had caused her, the future he ached to have with her but could not, and put all the force of his disappointment behind the punch.
Sheffield was knocked clean off his feet and landed on a stool, which splintered beneath his weight. He cried out as blood spurted and bones cracked. Joshua had obviously broken his nose.
Sheffield’s features would never be quite as regular again.
A rough cheer went up from the watching crowd. Anyone connected with Pemberley was a firm favourite in this inn. Sheffield was an outsider. By throwing the first punch, the locals would know Sheffield had crossed Joshua in some way and he would get no sympathy from them.
Joshua leaned over the prostrate man, felt inside his coat and extracted the original copy of the will.
“Hey, that’s mine.”
“I don’t think so.” Joshua turned to a couple of the inn’s servants. “Help him pack and get him back on the road tonight,” he said, slipping them each a few coins. “Cox, stay behind, make sure he writes that letter and then ensure that he leaves.”
Chapter Eighteen
“Well, ladies and gentlemen, you have exceeded my expectations and there is nothing more we can do to improve. You are all to be congratulated.” Mr. Asquith’s smile embraced all the actors, but Anne chose to believe his praise was exclusively for her. “Everything is in readiness for tonight’s performance. I would suggest we give ourselves the remainder of the day to rest and prepare ourselves.”
A general murmur of assent greeted this suggestion.
“I shall never be able to settle to anything,” Georgiana said. “I am far too nervous, even though I know it is only our family and neighbours we shall be performing for and they are bound to be kind.”
Kitty nodded. “I know they are predisposed to like us but still the prospect terrifies me.”
“Perhaps a brisk walk before luncheon will calm us all down,” Major Halstead suggested. “It is a fine day and a shame to remain indoors.”
“I a-agree,” Captain Turner said.
“Very well.” Georgiana shared a brief glance with Kitty. “Will you join us, Anne?”
“Thank you, but no.”
When applied to, Mrs. Bingley also declined. Anne couldn’t blame her. Lizzy’s good-natured sister had sat through endless rehearsals in her capacity as chaperone when she probably had any number of other occupations vying for her attention.
“Take a servant with you instead, Kitty,” she said.
The walking party went off to fetch outdoor clothing, leaving Anne alone with Mr. Asquith and Mrs. Bingley. Unsure what to do with herself, the decision was made for her when Mr. Asquith passed her a book, holding her gaze significantly as he did so.
“I believe you expressed an interest in this novel, Miss de Bourgh. I happened to find a copy of it in Mr. Darcy’s library.”
Anne blinked. She did not recall discussing this particular tome with Pierce. She opened her mouth to express her surprise, looked down, and abruptly closed it again in an effort to stifle a gasp. There was a piece of paper jutting from between the pages. He was trying to gain her attention and had gone to considerable trouble to do so. Why could he not have simply waited until they had a moment alone to say whatever it was he wished to say? Anne was perplexed and had no idea what to make of the situation.
“If you will excuse me, ladies,” he said, turning to leave the room.
“Certainly, Mr. Asquith,” Mrs. Bingley replied. “You are to be congratulated upon working miracles with the players, but must be exhausted. I am sure you would welcome a respite yourself.”
“I do have plans for the rest of the morning,” he said cryptically as he opened the door for them both, offering them another of the glamorous smiles as he stood back and waited for them to pass through it.
Anne didn’t think she would ever tire of his smile. Her heart lurched when she recalled that she would very soon have to. She sighed, absently waving to Mrs. Bingley when she excused herself from Anne and disappeared in the direction of her chamber.
Anne noticed Colonel Fitzwilliam lingering in the open doorway to the billiards room and gave him a little wave, to which he responded before returning to his game. His efforts to expose Mrs. Sheffield’s brother-in-law for the fiend he was had been successful. Anne was very glad for the colonel’s sake, but she also knew that after tonight’s play they would have to inform Mama they had decided against marrying. Anne’s stomach roiled in harmony with her already thumping heart as she anticipated that interview. Mama would be furious to have her hopes disappointed for a second time and Mr. Asquith, regardless of what Sir Marius might say to vindicate his conduct towards his daughter, would bear the brunt of her displeasure. Anne knew it and so did Mr. Asquith. Pierce, she mentally amended. She really must get accustomed to using his name as he had asked her to do now more than once.
Alone, Anne extracted the piece of paper from between the pages of the book he had given her and slowly unfolded it. It was covered by a few brief lines of Mr. Asquith—Pierce’s—elegant hand.
Anne, please meet me beside Pegaz in half an hour. We have urgent matters to discuss and require absolute privacy in which to do so. PA
Anne hugged the note to her breast—the first personal missive she had received from Pierce, and very possibly the last. Fearful of creasing it because she knew she would never throw it away, Anne smoothed out the paper as she ascended the stairs. Naturally she would keep the engagement. She couldn’t refuse him anything. Besides, her curiosity was piqued. What could he possibly wish to talk to her about that necessitated absolute secrecy? Panic gripped her when she realised she would have to find her own way to the centre of the maze. Alone. She couldn’t possibly.
Except of course, she could. The old helpless Anne had briefly reared her head, but Anne pushed her feeble objections aside. There were few things the new Miss de Bourgh would not attempt, especially if there was the remotest possibility of earning Pierce’s approval through her actions.
She had never been invited to partake in an assignation before, if that was what this was, and she had a great desire to learn what would happen if…no when, she reached their rendezvous. Just keep turning right, she reminded herself as she snatched up a flimsy shawl and ran from her room without even bothering with a bonnet, anxious to avoid her maid who would ask awkward questions about where she intended to go. She didn’t need to concern herself about Mama. Strangely, she had gone off in her carriage that morning and was driven away from Pemberley without telling anyone where she was going.
Anne cut across the lawns at a brisk pace and reached the entrance to the maze without, as far as she could tell, being seen by anyone, not even a gardener.
Taking a deep breath, she plunged between the tall beech hedges, which without Pierce’s comforting presence seemed especially sinister and forbidding. Anne jumped at every sound, saw things that didn’t exist in the shadowy hollows between the hedges. She swallowed down her anxiety and concentrated on turning right at each opportunity, determined to prove to Pierce that this simple task was well within her capabilities. She chose not to think what might happen if she took a wrong turn and became lost in the maze. The alarm would eventually be raised, she supposed, Pierce would have to admit what he had asked her to do, and his fate would then definitely be sealed.
She could not permit that to happen, but her resolve was almost immediately tested when she came upon a confusing crossroads that brought her to halting indecision. Knowing she must always turn right ought to have made it easy, but alone and nervous she discovered it was anything but. She convinced herself that the narrow right hand turn confronting her now was too insignificant to be an actual turn and so walked straight past it. Pierce’s warning the last time they had done this together echoed through her mind, stopping her before she had advanced ten paces. Never be tempted to deviate, and have the courage of your convictions.
She turned back and took the narrow path, breathing a sigh of relief when it widened almost immediately. Peirce knew these traps waited to fool the unwary but had faith in her ability to find her way alone. That was another milestone in her life. She had never before been allowed to be alone, much less attempt anything this complicated unaided. It would simply have been assumed she lacked the ability, and before Pierce came into her life, she would not have questioned that conclusion. This newfound freedom was liberating and she would repay Pierce’s faith in her by not getting lost.
She absolutely would.
Surely it had not taken this long to find their way out of the labyrinth on the last occasion? Once again Anne was filled with doubts. Perhaps this was not such a good idea. But Pierce was waiting at the end of it and she would walk barefoot over hot coals to reach his side, such was her total fixation with the man. Perhaps being with Pierce when they did this before and trusting his navigational skills, or because there was absolutely nothing he could not do and do well, she had not noticed the passing of time. Time always seemed to move at twice its usual rate when she was with her inamorato, and there was never enough of it to discuss with him all the things that were in her head–things that he always had answers to, no matter how complex or obscure the question.
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