by Webb, Brenda
“I will try to handle this discreetly, but make no mistake, if necessary, I will bring the full weight of Hawthorne Hall against my nephew. I happen to know that he gambles to such an extent that he desperately needs the inheritance he is to receive when I die. Between drink, gambling, and the whores that are his mistresses, he is a little more than a pauper. He is already indebted to me for a substantial loan. I even suspect he has spent Alfreda’s dowry, and that is why he has not allowed her to marry.”
Lady Ashcroft gasped. “What a horrible man! And he aspires to marry a friend of mine, Elizabeth Bennet.”
“Yes, Miss Bennet. I heard that she accompanied Alfreda to Gatesbridge and will attend my party. Other than that, I know only the gossip that surrounds her.”
“Gossip?”
“That she is gentlewoman with no dowry and no connections and that is why my nephew thinks she will consent to marriage. However, I would caution any woman not to marry that braggart. I have even seriously considered not leaving him a farthing. The only reason I do not disinherit him is fear that he will blame Alfreda and confront her. She could never stand up to him if I am gone.”
At Audrey’s puzzled expression, she added, “My estate is not entailed, and I may leave it to whomever I wish. In fact, do not tell a soul, but I have changed my will. I have bequeathed fifty thousand pounds to Alfreda, and she will inherit a small estate near London. John is to get Hawthorne Hall and the rest of my fortune. So you see why I would like to see her married to David before I die. He believes that Alfreda will inherit only a small dowry, so he is no fortune hunter. I have no doubt he would protect her and keep John from gaining control of her inheritance.”
“Since Wilkens is floundering in debt, I would fear for my life if I were you. Especially should he learn of the change in your will.”
“I am certain my early demise would suit him immensely. I have fiercely loyal servants who guard my life, as well as two retired Bow-Street Runners hired for extra protection—bodyguards, if you will. They are rarely seen or heard even by my long-time servants. For instance, if you will look to the roof, you will see a man next to the chimney with a rifle.” Audrey scanned the roof, finally setting eyes on the man when the sun glinted off the barrel of his weapon. His dark clothing blended in perfectly with the colour of the roof. “And near the end of the terrace is a guard in the shrubs along the wall.”
Finding the other man, Lady Ashcroft exclaimed, “Amazing. I would never have seen either of them.”
Violet Hawthorne laughed aloud. “That is the point of protection, is it not?”
“Still, it is a shame to have to be wary of your own kin.”
“I am not the first or the last to have that problem. Just look at our monarchs. It has existed throughout history.”
“In any event, I am relieved to know that you are safe. Now, I shall have to see if I can remove Miss Bennet from Wilkens’ clutches. From your description, I fear that he may not let her leave as easily as she arrived. And I do want to warn her of his dissolute ways.”
“I think that is a wise decision. After all, she is not yet engaged to him, as far as I know.”
“Thank goodness for that. Now, let us make our plans to put the lovers together and to warn Miss Bennet.”
~~~*~~~
Gatesbridge Manor
As Elizabeth and Alfreda circled the garden, they said very little, each satisfied with the beautiful weather and time away from the master of the estate. Wilkens had hardly been in residence since the first day, staying in Town instead of at Gatesbridge. Alfreda made excuses for him, saying he was occupied with an important business matter that he hoped to resolve before long. This, of course, was no hardship for Elizabeth as she was glad to be free of his company. Finally reaching the end of the gravel walk that led back to the manor, Alfreda broke the silence.
“Would you prefer to go inside or shall we sit on the terrace to have our tea and biscuits?”
“It is such a beautiful day that I would prefer to stay outdoors.”
“Then it is settled.”
As they took the steps to the terrace, a newly-hired young maid stepped from the French doors that led into the drawing room, a letter in her hand. She executed a perfect curtsy before beaming at her mistress.
“Excuse me, madam, but this letter was just delivered for Miss Bennet.”
Suddenly Mrs. Cuthbert appeared behind her, an expression of displeasure on her face. “What are you doing?”
“I… I was just delivering this letter to Miss—”
Grabbing the letter from the maid, Mrs. Cuthbert declared with much indignation, “You should not have assumed that was your responsibility. Go about your duties, and the next time, ask me before you presume anything.”
Thoroughly chastised, the girl dropped another quick curtsy and fled in the direction from which she had come, visibly shaking. Meanwhile, Elizabeth had already stepped forward, holding out her hand, as she had been expecting a letter from Jane. Nevertheless, as she waited with palm extended, the housekeeper hesitated. Finally, Mrs. Cuthbert relented. Taken aback at the servant’s manner, Elizabeth would not express any gratitude.
Aware that both ladies were eyeing her circumspectly and that Alfreda had already taken a seat, Mrs. Cuthbert changed the subject. “Shall I serve your tea and biscuits on the terrace?”
“Yes, please.”
The old housekeeper disappeared as quickly as she had materialized, and Elizabeth looked to Alfreda. If her hostess noted the woman’s attitude, she said nothing and Elizabeth’s joy at having heard from Jane far outweighed her concerns over the belligerent servant. Thus, she slid a finger under the seal and unfolded the letter.
Already reading, her face aglow, Elizabeth began explaining to her friend. “This letter has been forwarded from the Holmes residence. I suppose Jane had not gotten my letter telling her I was accompanying you to Ramsgate when she posted this.”
“What news of Hertfordshire?”
Elizabeth sat down as though her legs had gone weak, her face never leaving the paper though her expression brightened. “My sister is engaged to marry a wonderful man with sufficient means to take very good care of her. Is that not astonishing news?” She glanced up to note that Alfreda was no longer smiling. “Is there something the matter?”
Alfreda was having trouble hiding her disappointment. It was not lost on her that if one of the other Bennet sisters married well, then perhaps Elizabeth would not feel obligated to marry her brother in order to further her family. She was unable to form a reply, so Elizabeth continued.
“My sister is truly a good person, and the man she is marrying is her match in every way—kind, considerate, good-natured. I am exceedingly happy for her.”
Alfreda could not control her shaky voice. “When are they to marry?”
“Jane writes that it will be the first part of September.” Elizabeth whirled around in a circle, her arms extended as she celebrated. “Oh happy day! I could not be more thrilled.”
“May I ask you something personal?”
Elizabeth came to an abrupt halt, the sound of Alfreda’s voice an indication of her despondency. She nodded, fearing what was to come.
“You are not happy with my brother, are you?”
Elizabeth’s eyes sought her shoes as her head swung right to left. “No, I am not.”
“I see.” Alfreda stood and walked to the edge of the terrace to stare into the distance. “I can understand why, and I do not fault you. Honestly, I do not. I suppose I was just so hopeful that I would finally have a sister.” She turned to examine Elizabeth. “And you are so kind and so full of life. It would have been so nice to be your sister.”
Astonished at her friend’s openness, Elizabeth walked over to take Alfreda’s hands. “We shall always be friends.”
“I pray that we shall. But, let me caution you. Do not inform Brother of your decision until we are once again in London, and you are in the bosom of your family. I fear he will not take it well.
”
Elizabeth nodded even as Alfreda spoke, so she continued. “I am afraid that you may not understand the seriousness of this. He will be very angry. He has courted several women in recent months, all of whom have broken ties with him. To be honest, I know that he presumed, because of your circumstances, that you would not dare refuse him. I fear what he will do if he suspects you do not want to continue the courtship.”
“Then I will take you advice and not mention it until we are back in London.”
Alfreda sighed as though relieved. “Let us talk of it no more and strive to enjoy our short time together. We shall have a marvellous time at my aunt’s party tomorrow. I just know that you will love Aunt Violet, as you remind me a lot of her.”
“How so?”
“You have a mind of your own and are not afraid to express your opinions. I admire that.”
“Anyone can express themselves.”
Alfreda’s smile vanished. “No. Not all of us have the courage or the opportunity.”
At that moment, the housekeeper returned with a tray of tea and biscuits and their frank conversation ended. Alfreda retreated into her former reserved demeanour, and as they enjoyed their refreshments, Elizabeth was left to ponder all she had heard.
~~~*~~~
Chapter 23
London
Angelo’s Haymarket Room 9
Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam stood poised to secure the match, totally oblivious to the uproar emanating from those who were shoving their way into the already crowded room, some still trying to place bets on the outcome. Having spent years maintaining his composure during the height of battle, the clamour did nothing to shake his concentration, though the colonel was certain that his cousin was worried to know that they had drawn such an audience.
Surreptitiously, he had sent one of the attendants to White’s to spread the news that he and William were locked in a close battle to prove the better swordsman. He smiled at the bets he heard being placed—ten pounds, twenty—and even laughed aloud when someone shouted fifty and William’s brow furrowed. Nevertheless, since there was a case of French brandy riding on the outcome, he was not sorry for the subterfuge he had employed to unnerve his worthy opponent.
Early on, he and William had exceptional luck and neither had taken a clear lead after fencing for the first half-hour. Taking a much needed break and savouring the moment, Richard whipped his blade about in several directions, making swishing sounds in the air as he sought to impress the crowd with his impatience to resume the match and end all speculation. Meanwhile, William finished his glass of water and wiped his forehead, all the while eyeing Richard with something akin to suspicion, due to the large number of spectators that had appeared out of nowhere. Even so, he looked calm as he moved back into position.
Richard winked at his cousin, calling out, “En garde!”
Taking advantage of the fact that William had just taken his stance, Richard advanced without further warning, managing to make a hit on his opponent’s arm. Nevertheless, William was able to lift his sword in time to thwart the following lunge, and their weapons began clanking against each other in a steady pattern. Both accomplished swordsmen, they appeared as equally matched as they had throughout the early competition, though William’s wrist moved the weapon effortlessly compared to Richard’s bold strokes.
While they parried in a circular direction, lunging and thrusting in turn as the bout escalated, it became clear that William was the more skilled of the two, and he scored several hits as he began to advance, forcing Richard to retreat. For a short while after, the swords clashed rapidly, and the match continued as first one then the other scored more light hits. Suddenly, Richard’s sword was whipped from his grip by William’s blade, landing several feet away. Richard threw up both hands in defeat and then bowed in a pronounced fashion.
“You have bested me again, Darcy!”
The crowd roared their approval and money quickly began to exchange hands as the noise level increased. In fact, if one wanted to be heard, one had to shout.
“It looks as though some have gotten rich off our efforts. Too bad we were not in for a cut!” Richard declared over the din as he stepped forward to clasp William’s shoulder.
“I am afraid we are just a means to an end—entertainment for those who would rather gamble than fence. Let us wash off the sweat and have dinner and a drink at White’s. It seems that all the membership has suddenly congregated here, so it should be a simple task to find a table.”
Noting William’s pointed remark, Richard offered, “You know how fast news travels, and White’s is close by.”
William swept his arm to indicate the noisy crowd. “And I am confident that you did not send them word of our match so as to arrange this assembly.”
“Would I stoop so low, knowing how much you abhor being the focus of attention and how it might affect your performance?”
“In a heartbeat!” William quipped. At Richard’s look of chastisement, he chuckled and slid an arm around his shoulder.
Richard brought both hands to his heart. “I am wounded at your insinuation.”
“Then to alleviate my fears regarding your trustworthiness, perhaps you will buy my dinner.”
“I am not THAT wounded. You should pay for mine, as you are the victor.”
“Then perhaps I did not triumph after all.”
“You are Fitzwilliam Darcy! You do not need to triumph. You are wealthy as sin.”
“And you shall never let me forget, will you?”
“Never!”
~~~*~~~
White’s Club
Enjoying the last bite of his beef and a sip of an expensive wine, Richard leaned back in his chair and sighed in satisfaction. “This is much better than what Mother had planned for tonight. I do not think I could have stood another boring dinner party.”
“Oh yes, I forgot about the dinner party. I was invited, but I declined.”
“Yes, Mother was not too happy about it either, so I imagine she will be livid that I did not make an appearance as well. And Father is getting quite put out with you. He said something about coming around to see you, so be warned.”
“The earl may come, but that does not mean I shall be in!”
Richard guffawed. “Does that old ploy still work? I thought Father saw through that years ago.”
“I am sure he has, but he cannot prove I am home, since he never gets past Mr. Barnes.” His brow furrowed in thought. “I must remember to increase his pay. Besides, if I need to leave the house, I can still use the tunnel that comes out near the livery.”
“I cannot believe Father still does not know about that tunnel after all these years. Uncle George must have used it thousands of times to avoid running into any of the Fitzwilliams he did not wish to encounter.”
“He did and he taught me to do the same.”
“Well, I, for one, appreciate the fact that you showed it to me. I have had to dodge Mother often enough by going out that way instead of using the front door. But I do think you may want to hear Father out this time. I suspect he wants to speak to you about the joint venture—the one you have Lowell investigating.”
“Why do you say that?”
“As his solicitor was leaving the study, I heard the name Wexford mentioned along with our illustrious aunt, Lady Catherine. Wexford is one of the mills is it not?”
“Yes. Wexford, Stafford and Cunningham are the three in the venture started by Gisela’s father, Lord de Bourgh and my father.”
“Well, perhaps you should see what he wants. Who knows, maybe you will learn something that you did not know about the situation.”
“I will think about it. At this moment, I would rather hear from Lowell first.”
“You still have not heard from him?”
“No.”
“I find that very odd. Do you want me to send a letter to one of my comrades stationed near Wexford to check on the mill? He could enquire if Lowell was still there?”
; “That would be a starting point. Now, what say you to retiring to Darcy House and trying our hand at billiards?”
“If I am no better at billiards than fencing, I shall risk losing the rest of this month’s pay! Exactly how much is a case of my favourite brandy?”
William laughed. “Do not worry about paying your debt just yet. I have no room in the cellar for more at this time. And let us agree not to bet on billiards, as I imagine we both need the practice. I have barely played since I returned from Hertfordshire.”
“My fencing practice did me no favours, so I cannot see how practicing billiards will help. But I am willing if you are.”
~~~*~~~
Both were still chuckling as they made their way out the door of White’s, only to stop dead in their tracks at the sight of Gisela Darcy staggering out of a carriage which was at the bottom of the steps.
A large number of club members were exiting behind the cousins, and they too stopped short, anxious to observe what was going to happen. The ill will between Mr. and Mrs. Darcy was well known in Town, and any meetings of the two had become legendary because of Mrs. Darcy’s volatile temper. The steady increase in the noise level behind them heralded a swelling audience, and some patrons were now beginning to congregate on the walk below.
The spectators made William more ill at ease, and just as it seemed all of London was watching, Gisela wobbled precariously up the steps towards him. Her appearance was dishevelled, as evidenced by a gown in need of pressing and hair in want of a maid’s touch. She reeked of alcohol.
“My darling husband!” she slurred as loudly as possible. “It looks as though we are destined to meet on the streets, since I am not allowed in your homes and you no longer attend any soirées—not even the Matlocks’ dinner parties.”
William stepped close to her, answering with quiet fury as he did not wish for all to hear. “If you were invited, then I am pleased I was not there.”
