Jane Austen & the Archangel

by Pamela Aares

  Both men bowed in turn.

  Jane felt Serena’s hand trembling in hers. Or was it her own jittering nerves?

  Serena stared, speechless. It was evident that Darcy didn’t recognize her.

  “Lord Gabriel, Mr. Grace,” Jane said, intervening.” This is Lady Serena.” She looked at Darcy. “Lord Hathloss, you need no introduction.”

  “Lady Serena,” Darcy stammered, his smile uncertain. “I must also beg your pardon. I’m afraid I’ve lost much of my memory. And though these gentlemen endeavored to help me recall much of it on our trip back from Spain, I fear it isn’t what it should be.” He stared at Serena for some moments before turning a pleading smile on Jane.

  Jane returned his smile, acting far more confident than she felt. But she was practiced in the social arts; surely they would serve her now. She turned to Serena, who looked quite faint. She took her arm and glanced at Mr. Grace. For some unfathomable reason, she was certain he could be of help.

  “We could return at a later time,” he offered with an insouciance that Jane found distinctly unhelpful.

  “No.” Serena said bluntly. She turned to Darcy. “I’ve waited years to see you. I couldn’t bear for you to go off again, not before we’ve had time to become reacquainted.” She lowered her eyes. “That is, if you are amenable.”

  Darcy exchanged silent looks with his companions before nodding awkwardly.

  The crescendo of voices from the ladies at the table amplified Jane’s growing anxiety. The reunion was already more complicated than she’d anticipated. “Shall we retire for some refreshment?” She suggested. “Surely you gentlemen must be tired after such a journey.”

  “Refreshment”—Lord Gabriel smiled—“is one of my favorite pastimes. Do lead on.”

  Jane held Serena’s arm firmly as they made their way across the field. Though Serena had regained her composure admirably, she was clearly shaken. They climbed the gentle knoll and reached the gathered ladies. Lord Gabriel walked directly to Lady Baringdon and bowed.

  “Lady Baringdon, I beg your pardon at our intrusion. I am Lord Gabriel, and this is my friend Mr. Grace.” He spoke with an easy air. A slight smile lightened his extraordinarily handsome face as he gestured to Darcy. “And, of course, Lord Hathloss. We are only this day returned from Spain.”

  Lady Baringdon, always delighted to have handsome men at her fetes, appeared as charmed as she was surprised. She offered her hand first to Lord Gabriel, who bowed over it formally, and then to Mr. Grace. But when she turned to Darcy, the sparkle of amusement was replaced with a dispirited stare.

  Serena stood stiffly beside the men and Jane saw the effort she was making to cover her shock. Jane took her hand and led her to a chair.

  “Heavens, Alyssa.” Lady Morland’s voice broke the silence as she addressed Lady Baringdon. “Spain is a very long way from here, at least it was the last time I visited. Do offer these gentlemen some refreshment.” With a wave of her hand, she added, “Darcy, you are little changed. I would know you anywhere.”

  Before Darcy had any chance to reply, Lady Baringdon ordered the footmen to pour wine and bring additional chairs.

  Lord Baringdon came charging up the knoll scowling, clearly displeased with the disruption of his competition. Lord Rendin and Lord Ellery followed close behind. When Lord Baringdon saw Darcy, a faint twitch crossed his brow, but he didn’t break stride. He walked directly to Darcy.

  “Welcome home, Hathloss.” Though the words were kind, his tone was unmistakably cool.

  Darcy bowed to Lord Baringdon and introduced Lord Gabriel and Mr. Grace. But he didn’t introduce Lord Baringdon in turn. Instead he stared, scrutinizing his face, anxiety clouding his eyes.

  “Lord Baringdon,” Lord Gabriel said briskly, breaking the awkward silence, “we are grateful for your hospitality. Lord Hathloss has had a tiring journey. Due to a great and heroic effort, he saved many lives. But at the same time, he suffered a terrible injury and lost all memory of his life before the war. He is only now recovering bits of it.” He turned to Serena and again flashed his potent smile. “I’m certain that being among friends and family will be of great benefit to his recovery.”

  To Jane’s eyes, Serena’s responding smile was wobbly. It was no wonder. Jane’s nerves spiked with every turn of the conversation. Though she was thrilled by Darcy’s return, she could barely keep from staring at Mr. Grace.

  Darcy, rather than paying attention to Serena was staring at Lord Rendin. He suddenly brightened and leaned toward Rendin.

  “I recognize you, sir. Saw you a couple days ago when in London.” He turned to Mr. Grace. “Remember this gentleman?” he asked. ”He was with the actress we’d just seen in the play—we both remarked upon it.” He turned to Lord Rendin. “Excellent play, didn’t you think?”

  Lord Baringdon shot a displeased look at Lord Rendin. Jane didn’t miss the satisfied glint that passed through Mr. Grace’s eyes. Perhaps, she thought with relief, the games might not be all that would undo Lord Rendin’s reputation. Being seen in London with an actress or mistress certainly didn’t fit the image of a devoted fiancé.

  “I’m afraid you’re mistaken, Lord Hathloss,” Lord Rendin bit out, not quite controlling his discomfiture. He pointed at Darcy’s head. “What with the memory loss and scrambling and all that.”

  Darcy stared at Lord Rendin. “I am quite sure,” he countered. He gave a self-deprecating laugh and said to the broader company, “When you remember as little as I do, what one does remember sticks quite stubbornly, I’m afraid.”

  Oblivious to Lord Rendin’s icy glare, Darcy turned to Jane.

  “And Miss Austen, I remember you. Perhaps because Lord Gabriel discussed your book with me and refreshed my memory. Remarkable book.” he told her, grinning. “It got us over the Pyrenees! Clever title—Pride and Prejudice—fits all of us, doesn’t it?” He ignored the ripple of unease that slid through the ladies at the table. Or maybe he didn’t even notice it. “But I must say, I count myself lucky, for it’s fortunate your hero has redeeming qualities. Otherwise I would be in true trouble—no memory and a nasty namesake!”

  Jane laughed. “It was your good qualities, Darcy, that inspired me to name my hero after you.”

  She peeked at Serena, who’d barely taken her eyes off Darcy since he’d arrived. The light that had dimmed over the past years now shone clearly in her eyes, and it ignited hope and thankfulness in Jane’s heart. And though Jane yearned to speak with Mr. Grace, to thank him and to ask her many questions, she would wait to speak with him in private.

  “Well then, I must warn you, Miss Austen,” Darcy said, “for I’m informed that I don’t quite observe decorum as I ought, not since my”—he paused before snapping his fingers—“accident. Seem to say whatever is on my mind, and for this I beg your collective pardons”—he swept his arm toward the gawking ladies at the table—“in advance!”

  “Au contraire,” Lady Morland broke in. “I think we might all find it refreshing—God knows, I will. Besides, it is to you, Darcy, that we owe our thanks. Without your bravery, Napoleon and his scoundrels would be among us!” She turned to Lady Baringdon. “These gentlemen must be tired,” she pronounced with a wave of her hand.

  “Yes, they must be,” Lord Rendin broke in. “Shall we resume our game, Lord Baringdon?” He was no doubt relieved to have the attention turned away from him and his affairs.

  But Lord Baringdon ignored him and addressed the newly arrived men. “You are most welcome to stay with us.”

  “No.” Darcy said quickly. “But thank you. Lord Gabriel thinks I’d best head on to Hartley Hall and see my esteemed parents. He’s convinced me that being on familiar ground will help me recover my senses.” Darcy glanced at the astonished faces of the ladies and smiled. “I hope they’re worth recovering!”

  “A most gracious offer, Lord Baringdon,” Mr. Grace said. To Jane’s great surprise, he nodded his acceptance of the invitation.

  “Capital!” Lord Baringdon said, then turned
to Darcy. “I insist you return for the curricle race. You were always a top whip. Should be just the thing!”

  Darcy didn’t respond. He was staring at Serena, oblivious to the glances and fluttering whispers around the table. Mr. Grace nudged him. Called back from his apparent entrancement, Darcy agreed to return for the race two days hence. Jane caught the look of sheer loathing in Lord Rendin’s eyes. It was brief and quickly masked, but unmistakable.

  With graceful bows, Darcy and Lord Gabriel thanked their hosts and returned to the carriage. Jane watched as Lord Gabriel pulled Mr. Grace aside. They exchanged words and from their stiff movements, she guessed the men weren’t in accord. Mr. Grace turned from the departing carriage and walked toward the men gathered at the archery marks.

  Turning to Serena, Jane saw tears welling in her friend’s eyes. She took her hand and led her back to the shaded bench under the oak, away from the chatter and stares of the ladies.

  “He’s home, Jane. I can scarcely believe it—and I could scarcely let him leave! What he must have endured, I cannot bear to imagine.” She raised her eyes to Jane’s. “He doesn’t remember me,” she said, brushing a tear from her cheek.

  “You’re mistaken. He does not, may not, remember all the particulars, but what I saw as he looked at you, Serena, is sufficient for great hope. The specifics of the past don’t matter; you must look to your future and trust your heart. And you must give him time.”

  Jane nodded toward the men, now intent on their targets. Mr. Grace had accepted a bow from Lord Baringdon and stepped to the firing line. Lord Rendin stood to one side, watching intently.

  “Just be glad in this moment,” Jane said, interlacing her fingers with Serena’s, “that Lord Rendin hasn’t suggested putting an apple on your esteemed head and wagering that you should be given to any man who could shoot it off. I’d have to compete, you know. I simply couldn’t let him win you.”

  Serena sniffled then laughed. “You wielding a bow would be a sight worth risking.”

  “We’ll need vast amounts of humor if we are to get through this, Serena.”

  Serena nodded toward the men. “Now that I’ve met your Mr. Grace, I see it’s no wonder you kept him a secret.”

  “He’s not my Mr. Grace,” Jane protested, instantly regretting her humorless tone.

  “I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Serena said with a twinkle.

  The carriage rumbled away, and Jane let out the breath she’d been holding since she first spied it.

  ***

  Throwing convention to the wind in the privacy of her own cottage was one thing, but finding a way to have a conversation with Mr. Grace in private at Anderley turned out to be quite another. He had effortlessly won the archery tournament, and Lord Baringdon had dragged him off to join the men for an afternoon hunt. When the full company had gathered in the salon before dinner, Lady Baringdon had usurped the attention of her handsome new arrival. At dinner, she seated him near herself, far down the table from Jane and Serena. Assessing the stares and whispers, Jane was thankful that Serena had kept her confidence and said nothing about Jane’s connection to him. Already the questions about Darcy’s rescue were pelting about the table. The last thing Jane needed was to be the object of gossip and speculation.

  When the men rejoined the ladies after dinner, Serena agreed to entertain on the pianoforte. Jane chose a chair near the edge of the room, near the towering windows. To her surprise, Mr. Grace slipped into the chair next to hers.

  “Your friend has an estimable talent,” he said quietly during an interlude.

  “Her talents run deeper than most would perceive,” Jane replied. She turned an assessing glance to him. “It appears that I was misled in my perceptions of you, Mr. Grace,” she said in a near whisper. “I hadn’t thought you had the means to travel to Spain.” She was aware of the eyes on them and worked to maintain a placid expression.

  Serena began to play again, and the lilt of her voice as she sang a gentle love song hushed the room.

  Mr. Grace leaned toward Jane. “Lord Gabriel is an old friend and had business in the region. When he asked me to accompany him, I realized Salamanca was only a little out of his way.”

  She didn’t believe him. Couldn’t believe him. She eyed his elegant evening clothes, clothes no letter carrier could ever own. Before she could question him further, Lady Baringdon glared and nodded toward the pianoforte. Rudeness was not a behavior that Jane condoned in any way, no matter how powerful her curiosity or how tumultuous her heart. She turned back, closed her eyes and listened to Serena’s sweet song. Or tried to. She wasn’t sure which roared louder, the questions tumbling and tangling in her mind or the pulsing of her heart as its rhythm throbbed loud and insistent in her ears.

  Chapter Seven

  Darcy did not wait for the carriage race to return to Anderley; Jane spotted him the next morning walking with Serena in the gardens below her guest chamber. Sunlight filtered through the trees and cast a dancing, dappled light across them. Serena laughed at Darcy, and a loving look spread across his face in response. The delight of their laughter drifted up to Jane, infusing her with hope. It had been too long since she’d seen Serena happy.

  With a sigh, she crossed to the writing desk and began a letter to Cassandra. She wrote of Darcy and Serena’s reunion and the tragic loss of his memory. She spared no ink relating her suspicions about the character of Lord Rendin. Cassandra would share her exasperation that Serena’s parents refused to see the man in any light but that of future husband to Serena. But she didn’t tell Cassandra of the deep and inexplicable yearning that preoccupied her as she waited for an opportunity to speak with Mr. Grace. Nor did she confide that she’d made no headway with her writing—that would truly worry her sister. Instead, attempting a happy tone, she closed the letter with a description of the gardens of Anderley and a report of the guests’ fashions. But as she sealed the letter, she realized that Cassandra would recognize that her account was incomplete. Her sister had the talent to know what was not written on a page.

  That afternoon, Serena sought out Jane and tugged her into the garden for a walk.

  “I feel I’m being courted all over again,” Serena said, shaking her head. “Though Darcy remembers bits and pieces, it’s as though we’re becoming acquainted for the first time.” She twirled with her face lifted toward the sun. “I love him all the more, you know.” She stopped abruptly and hugged her arms to her chest. “But it’s frightening, actually. What if he should discover that I don’t suit?”

  “Serena, really! If I didn’t know you so well, I would assume you were seeking a compliment.” Jane squeezed her arm. “How could the man be anything but entranced? In any case, it’s obvious that he is. You simply need more time together. That, and to be rid of Lord Rendin.”

  Serena kicked at a stone in the path. “My mother is convinced that Darcy is mad. She says he’ll never recover his senses. And she seems more determined than ever that I marry Lord Rendin. I overheard her this very morning trying to convince Papa to secure a special license!”

  “I believe your father is beginning to have his doubts, Serena.”

  “I can only hope.” She pulled her arm from Jane’s and dropped onto a bench. “But imagine—Lord Gabriel and Mr. Grace finding Darcy! I must find a way to thank them properly.” A puzzled look crossed her face. “It’s the oddest thing ... For all the time Darcy traveled with them, he appears to know little about either man.” She turned to Jane. “How did you come to meet Mr. Grace? Surely you can tell me.”

  Several curricles were rounding into the drive of Anderley Park, stirring up a fine dust that glistened in the sunlight.

  “May this carriage race be Lord Rendin’s final undoing,” Jane said, nodding toward the nearest carriage and hoping to change the subject.

  Serena sighed. “It may take an act of God to arrest my esteemed parents’ plans. But I do think you’re right—Papa is beginning to have his doubts. Perhaps the race will fuel them.”

&nb
sp; Jane was thankful that Serena was more concerned with ridding herself of Rendin than with the details regarding her first meeting with Mr. Grace. Since that afternoon in Chawton, Jane kept turning the events in her mind without making sense of them. Or of him. But his deception, his posing as something other than he was, angered her. And she didn’t like that she was in turn concealing her concerns about him being a spy. But even if her mind had given her some peace, her body wouldn’t let her forget the feelings the man had ignited—feelings that overcame her as she lay awake at night. Feelings she might have been better off never experiencing.

  “You know, Jane,” Serena said in an amused voice, “Darcy told me that Mr. Grace thought you might be afraid of love. That your relationship with LeFroy all those years ago might have put you off it. I begin to think he may be right.”

  Shock shot through Jane. The only way that Mr. Grace would know anything about her feelings about LeFroy was if he’d read her letter to her niece Franny. Spikes of betrayal pierced through her. She fought to regain her composure. The man was clearly not what he seemed, not what he claimed. Perhaps they weren’t safe. Perhaps in trying to help, she had jeopardized not only herself, but also Serena and her family.

  She had best sort this out before Mr. Grace’s deceptive involvement continued any longer. But the fewer people who knew about it, the better. She would tell Mr. Grace to leave. But the only bargaining token she could play was to threaten to reveal her suspicions. Who knew what harm that might stir?

  She smoothed her hands against her skirts. She certainly couldn’t tolerate a man she didn’t trust, no matter what his good deeds were or what her silly heart had to say about him. And she would never allow her imprudence to in any way jeopardize her friends.

  “Is he right, Jane?” Serena prodded.

  “For me, Serena, love is best kept for my stories. You know how I feel about that.” She hoped Serena wouldn’t wonder how Mr. Grace had come across such personal, private information about her.