by Webb, Brenda
Lady Catherine’s eyes hardened, appearing even darker than their usual steely grey. “Is there someone of your acquaintance that can put an end to this?”
It took only a moment for Wickham to realise what she was asking and what it could mean for him. “For the right amount of money, anything is possible. What kind of end do you envision?”
“Follow him from one place to another until the time is convenient for him to have an accident. He is to begin the inventory with Wexford Mill. It would be a simple matter for him to disappear after he leaves that area as the terrain lends itself to highwaymen. Afterward, there should be no one left to tell the tale. Do you understand?”
“Let me see if I fully comprehend. I am to find someone to kill the solicitor Darcy has hired, and once he has done the deed, I am to kill him?”
“Precisely! This cannot be traced back to me.”
“I shall do it for three thousand pounds.”
Lady Catherine glowered at him. “Must I remind you that it has cost me a great deal to parade you about Ramsgate as a gentleman? Even the clothes on your back came from my coffers. Why should I pay you so large a sum?”
“With your vast fortune, I cannot imagine you will miss a few pounds!” Wickham stood up defiantly now. “It is one thing to spy, lie and steal for you but quite another entirely to commit murder. That means the gallows if I am caught!”
She studied him contemptuously. “Very well, then! But, unlike the fiasco with Gisela, I expect results! If you fail me on this, nothing else will matter. If my nephew were to ever learn—” She halted. “Let me just say that isolating Georgiana at Ramsgate will be a lot more difficult if Lowell is not stopped very soon. If Fitzwilliam becomes suspicious, he will return to Pemberley, taking her with him. Your plans for a marriage will be finished before they have started! Just take care of that solicitor, and if any facts surface after you are wed to my niece, I feel sure that your charm will carry the day. By then, you should be able to convince Georgiana of whatever you wish.”
Wickham smiled at the faith she had in his abilities. “I have several acquaintances that can handle such a job.”
“Excellent! As soon as the matter is resolved, let me know. Once Lowell is dead, Ferguson will pilfer from his office whatever information he might have there, under the pretence of helping settle his affairs. After all, they are fellow solicitors and in the same building.”
“He would not object to being a party to murder?”
“Ferguson has a long history with the de Bourghs. He will turn a blind eye as long as he has nothing to do with the man’s death. I pay him well to leave his conscience at home.”
“And what will prevent Darcy from hiring another solicitor?”
“By then, Georgiana’s hasty marriage and resulting delicate condition will be more important than what is now occupying his mind.”
Wickham raised his glass in a salute. “I see your point.”
~~~*~~~
London
The Trousdale Townhouse
A Dinner Party
The billiards room billowed with cigar smoke, so much so that John Wilkens had to stop just inside the entrance to get his bearings. The sounds of wooden balls striking one another, along with the drone of constant chatter, almost drowned out his host’s acerbic greeting.
“Wilkens, you finally came out of hiding! I was beginning to think you were too busy with the ladies to accept any of my invitations. How many have you declined? Three? Or is it four? And then when you do consent to show, you seem content to remain with the ladies instead of commiserating with those of us in this sanctuary.” With those words Frederick Trousdale, the Earl of Dryden, swept his arm towards the other men in the room, a good many of whom overheard the entire conversation and chuckled.
Barely acknowledging those circling the various billiard tables, Wilkens managed to return a weak smile at his host. Dryden was an acquaintance of his late father, as were several others in attendance. None were his friends, but as customary, he pretended otherwise. After all, in their society each must play his part.
“Neither statement is true, I assure you. I have simply been exceedingly occupied with business since I arrived in Town. And while I admit to enjoying the entertainment in the music room, I am here now, am I not?”
“Indeed you are! And just who is that lass on your arm? The one you seem so protective of—Miss Bennet, if I remember the name correctly.” The Earl raised inquisitive brows, his expression one of bemused anticipation. “She is a pretty little thing. I will give you that, though I have never heard of the family. Is she someone of import or just a passing liaison?”
He was lying, Wilkens knew, as his wife had no doubt passed along the latest gossip while they had enjoyed dinner. So he was well aware that the young woman he was escorting was a country squire’s daughter with nothing to recommend her. Wilkens bristled at Dryden’s inference. He had no doubt that the entire ton had been amused by his humiliation at the hands of the three debutants he had previously pursued. And Dryden clearly saw Miss Bennet for what she was— a poor substitute for a member of their sphere. Nevertheless, Wilkens felt obligated to defend his choice in order to save face.
“Miss Bennet is a gentleman’s daughter from Hertfordshire, sir, and I am courting her.”
The Earl forced back a smirk though his lips formed a tight line in doing so. “I suppose there are reasons to choose a wife, other than dowry and connections.” A guffaw from somewhere behind caused Wilkens to turn, but no one met his eye. His host continued, “I must say she is very… tempting.”
The chatter in the room had quieted, giving way to sporadic chuckles, as he continued to needle Wilkens; all cue sticks were silenced in favour of hearing their exchange. “A lady that handsome might even tempt me!”
With Dryden’s last pronouncement, even more scattered sniggers filled the hush, and Wilkens pulled himself up to his full height, his eyes narrowing.
“Unlike some, I have no need to augment my wealth with a woman’s dowry. And as for tempting—there is something to be said for not having to settle for an ugly harridan because she is accompanied by a large sum of money.”
Thoroughly affronted, Wilkens quitted the now silent room, every eye tracking his progress. The majority of the occupants appeared taken aback, each having felt the sting of his retort as keenly as their host. For they, too, had had to marry plain and even ugly women for their dowries and connections.
The Earl turned to his audience, shrugged and guffawed. “Hell, he could have kept her on the side and still filled his coffers with a stout dowry!”
The renewed sounds of laughter and balls striking one another helped to erase the veracity of Wilkens’ taunt. Teasing and bets began anew as the truth was pushed to the farthest corners of their minds. It simply would not do to dwell on the drawbacks of what had always been, and would always be, their lot in life.
~~~*~~~
The Music Room
As the music played and couples danced, Elizabeth tried hard to attend to what Alfreda was saying. She stood with Wilkens’ sister among a small group of ladies that she had never met before this evening. Most of them ignored her whenever she spoke, despite Alfreda’s attempts to involve her in the conversation. This did not concern Elizabeth, however, as her heart was not invested in this gaggle of gossips. To be truthful, she was simply tired of it all—trying to please her aunt, to impress the ton and deal with Lord Wilkens.
Since that gentleman had received her uncle’s permission to court her, he had dominated her every waking hour with one event or another. Apparently his planned departure for Kent in one week made him determined to present her to as many of his acquaintances as possible in the short time he had left in Town. She feared that this whirlwind courtship would mean an equally swift offer of marriage upon his return to London. For her part, Elizabeth was counting the hours until she would be free of him once more, if only for a short while.
Suddenly Alfreda was addressing her. “And
what is your opinion, Elizabeth?”
Elizabeth stuttered an answer that she hoped was correct. “I...I agree.” She let go the breath she was holding when Alfreda smiled and turned back to the others, never missing a beat.
To be honest, her mind was preoccupied with thoughts of Jane. She was genuinely concerned because her sister had not replied to her last letter. In it Elizabeth had conveniently forgotten to mention that she was being courted by Wilkens. Nonetheless, ecstatic about the earl’s declaration, her aunt most likely had written to Longbourn directly after she had posted her letter to Jane. Had her sister learned the news from their mother? Had her feelings been hurt? In truth, Elizabeth had omitted that information because Jane could easily detect any attempt to feign emotions she did not possess. And admitting that there were no decent men of higher society available to either of them, would prove Jane correct in considering the few men that Meryton had to offer.
When the Gardiners spoke to her after Wilkens had declared himself, she was torn between stating the truth—that she would never accept the man—or letting the farce play out to buy time. She chose the latter. After all, her aunt had no intention of letting her pursue other matches so long as Wilkens was already practically in the family. And knowing Madeline Gardiner, she would likely be exceedingly perturbed if she refused his courtship and would send her home unceremoniously. If that were the case, how could she meet other acceptable men? Besides, once at home she would have to face her mother’s ire and the sadness in Jane’s eyes.
Surely among the many people I meet while on Wilkens’ arm, there is at least one kind-hearted, honourable man who will notice me.
Immediately she pictured Mr. Darcy, and it took all her willpower to force his memory into the far recesses of her heart, though she knew full well that it would resurface in the early morning hours when she could least resist. Luckily, at that moment a loud commotion brought a welcome diversion, and she, as well as the entire assemblage, turned to gape as a splendidly dressed couple barged into the room—the butler close on their heels.
“Madam! Sir, you cannot—”
One of the most beautiful creatures Elizabeth had ever seen stood just steps away. There was no doubt in her mind that this woman could command attention in any gathering. Her dark blond hair, topped by a ruby tiara, was swept up into an elaborate style with a few curls left to hang down the back. An exquisite ruby choker highlighted her long, lovely neck and was accompanied by the matching drop earrings. A perfect ivory complexion showcased vivid green eyes, framed by dark brown brows and lashes and while her lips were a vibrant red, her cheeks were only lightly rouged. Her low-cut, crimson satin gown fit tightly from the bodice down to her tiny waist, and displayed her ample bosom. Visually, she was magnificent!
Nevertheless, despite her striking appearance, her unladylike deportment drew far more notice. The distinguished looking gentleman at her side seemed bemused as he tried to keep her steady and the smell of liquor began to permeate the air. Meanwhile, the lively woman met every eye defiantly, practically daring those gathered to censure her.
Ultimately, the butler managed to step in front of her and she snapped, “I do not care if I do not have an invitation. I am a friend of Lord Dryden’s and I shall be welcome!”
Seeing that he could not persuade them by reasoning, the butler hurried to find his mistress amongst those gathered in the music room. Elizabeth stood spellbound as the servant and their hostess spoke in hushed tones before he quit the room with his head held high, sniffing disgustedly at the interlopers as he passed them. With a decided frown, Lady Dryden hurried in the direction of the errant pair, presenting a wan smile once she stood before them. The intruders must have been pleased with whatever was said, as the stunning woman looked very smug after the Countess returned to her duties as hostess.
Proclaiming loudly, “Come, Howard, I wish to dance!” the woman practically pulled her partner onto the dance floor and proceeded to hang onto him for balance, much to the entertainment of the ton. And they put on a grand show all the while they danced.
Failing to realise that she was still staring, her mouth gapped open, Elizabeth startled when Alfreda whispered, “Do not be shocked. That is the way Gisela Darcy always behaves!”
“Dar...Darcy?” Elizabeth managed to murmur. “But that is not—”
“Not her husband? Yes, everyone is aware of that. The rumour is that Mr. Darcy has never had anything to do with her because she trapped him into marriage. I once overheard my brother tell an acquaintance about it when he was not aware that I was listening. It seems Mr. Darcy deposited her on the doorstep of her townhouse on their wedding day and never returned. Brother thought it was simply hilarious.”
“Then who—”
“That is her latest friend, Lord Attenborough. He is a ne’er-do-well who has more money than sense, Brother says. He enjoys shocking society.”
A searing pain shot through Elizabeth’s heart! She is very beautiful. Her second thought, however, was of Mr. Darcy’s pain. How cruel to embarrass him so publicly!
“Does she not realise that she is the source of everyone’s amusement?”
Alfreda shrugged. “Apparently, her objective is to embarrass her husband in any manner possible. I have seen her act like this in public at least twice before and I am seldom in Town. However, my cousin Penelope assures me this behaviour is typical for Mrs. Darcy. She truly has no sense of decency, unlike her husband. I met Mr. Darcy once. He impressed me as a very kind and sensitive man. I know that he cares deeply for his sister, who was with him when we were introduced. One can only wonder what happened to cause him offer for someone as ridiculous as Gisela.”
Elizabeth shuddered, remembering what Fitzwilliam’s aunt had disclosed. “Yes, one can only wonder.”
Shortly afterward, Lord Wilkens returned to their company, and neither woman mentioned the newcomer’s arrival. Gisela Darcy was still dancing with Attenborough, as no other man had dared venture an invitation. Upon noticing her presence in the room, however, Wilkens eyes widened as though he had seen a ghost and he coloured. His discomposure was not lost on Elizabeth. Meanwhile, the lady in question had most certainly noticed the Earl of Hampton’s return and was smirking at him as though they shared some dark secret.
“What can she mean smiling at you like that, Brother? It is highly improper!” Alfreda exclaimed.
Ignoring her question, Wilkens grabbed his sister’s arm, and turned to address Elizabeth with his arm extended as though to escort her. “We are leaving. I have had all the merriment I can stomach for one evening.”
And as she was being rushed from the room, Elizabeth glanced back to see Gisela Darcy convulsing in laughter.
~~~*~~~
“Who are you laughing at so heartily, my dear?” Lord Attenborough asked, more curious as to which man she had spied than surprised at her behaviour.
He enquired because it was to his advantage to keep a tally of those he might be able to blackmail over a past indiscretion with Gisela. Most of the socialites of the ton hated the woman, and if they knew that their husbands had sampled her wares… well, Attenborough could make their lives so much more miserable. And now that Darcy’s wife drank so heavily, it had been simple to get her to reveal details of her liaisons. It also helped that Darcy was known as the best swordsman in London and an expert shot. Though he knew for certain that the man did not care enough to challenge anyone over his wife’s honour, few others were willing to test that assumption. Thus, his threats of exposure were always taken seriously, and his income benefited greatly.
“Just one of those arrogant fools who cut me in public while propositioning me in private!”
Attenborough resorted to his usual flattery. “That could be every man in the room!”
He had pretended great experience in managing investments, making it easy to persuade Gisela to grant him access to her bank accounts. So between the monies he made through extortion and what he skimmed from her accounts, Attenborough was abl
e to continue his usual standard of living, despite the fact that he had gambled away most of his fortune.
Gisela was drunk but not that drunk. Thus, she was not yet ready to confess that Wilkens had shared her bed for months before she tired of the novelty of sleeping with one of her husband’s enemies.
“Right you are, my love!” she gushed, pleased at Attenborough’s statement.
Their affair had taken place right after the marriage. She had felt she was taking revenge on Fitzwilliam, since he and Wilkens had had a public altercation at Whites a few weeks prior. In hindsight, it had been a disaster. The man had been horrible in bed! Only after her hands sought the rubies around her neck, did she acknowledge that his expensive presents were the only thing that made their association endurable.
But it was insupportable to encounter Wilkens now and have him act as though he was appalled at her behaviour. Thus, an idea was born. Perhaps the young woman he was squiring about would like to know what he was really like! She would have to make sure to learn her name.
Her musings were interrupted by Attenborough. “Well, if you are not going to tell me his name, why do we not resume dancing? I believe this is the last set, and you attended tonight in order to dance, did you not?”
“Oh, Howard! You always see to my pleasure!”
“I try, my dear. I try.”
~~~*~~~
London
A Confectioner’s Shop
Caroline studied the woman sitting across from her at the small wooden table, her expression eventually transforming into a frown, though she was not conscious of it. Her companion’s close resemblance to her brother, Colonel Hedges, with the same red hair and freckles, provoked the alteration. Caroline had not wanted to join his sister on this excursion, desiring no reminders of the horrid man who thought himself her beau, but she felt that she had no choice. After all, while Charles was out of Town, this woman was her only access to the society she preferred.
