“Thank you. I do not wish to listen to Caroline’s prattling today.”
“If you are certain you do not mind my company, I should like to join you in your room later.” He looked towards the coach. “They will likely be done here in a half-hour, by the looks of it, so I shall see you in a while.”
“I look forward to it.”
Charles watched as William rode in the direction of his home, then he said a few words to the smithy and rounded the building towards the centre of town. If he hurried, there was time to check on the rifle he had ordered while they finished shoeing the horse.
NETHERFIELD
“Mr. Darcy! How good to have you back, sir!” Mr. Mercer proclaimed as he crossed the foyer towards their guest. “The master is in Meryton, I am afraid, but I suspect he will return shortly.”
“I met Bingley in town, as a matter of fact,” William replied, nodding to the footman who had opened the door. “He will be returning in a short while with my coach. I borrowed his stallion in the hopes of catching my cousin here. Have I been successful?”
Mercer’s smile faded. “Yes, sir. As far as I know, Mr. Darcy has been in his room since he wakened me in the middle of the night to let him into the house.”
“That comes as no surprise. Allow me to apologise for his manners.”
“No apology is necessary.”
“If Andrew is still imbibing as much as ever, it is.”
“Other than keeping odd hours, last night was the first time he came home in such a condition as to need help getting up the stairs.”
“I do not know whether to be pleased or not.” By this time, Mercer had relieved William of his great coat, hat and gloves, and he was headed towards the grand staircase. “Is everyone still asleep?”
“Yes, sir. Other than Mr. Bingley, it is unusual for the family to awaken until half past nine or later.”
Staring at the landing at the top of the grand staircase, William appeared to be resigned to what lay ahead. “Good. I think it best they sleep through my conversation with my cousin. By the way, after I speak to Andrew, I am going to retire to my usual room. However, I want my cousin followed if he should leave Netherfield. I have Mr. Bingley’s approval. He said to tell you that Starnes was to follow him until further notice.”
“I shall see to it.”
“In addition, I do not wish for the rest of the family to know that I am in residence for as long as possible. I would appreciate it if you would inform Mrs. Watkins.”
“I will. And rest assured that you will have a pitcher of hot water waiting, so that you may wash off the dust of the road.”
“Excellent. Now, may I have the key to Andrew’s room?”
“I shall ask Mrs. Watkins for the key to the blue room—that is the one Mr. Darcy is occupying presently. At his request, no maid has entered it in days, so please excuse any untidiness.”
William nodded. “I shall wait in the upstairs hallway.”
Mercer’s expression darkened as he watched his master’s good friend start up the staircase, his head down and his step heavy.
Quickly, he headed in the direction of Mrs. Watkins’ office. He could easily let the housekeeper take the key to Mr. Darcy, but he would not. In the past, quite by chance, he had been witness to one of the cousins’ arguments at a previous estate that Mr. Bingley rented and he did not want to subject her to that prospect. In fact, he planned to have two footmen stand by in case they were needed.
Would that Mr. Bingley was here in case tempers flared!
THE BLUE GUEST ROOM
Glancing about the thoroughly dishevelled room, William could not say he was surprised at the chaos. Andrew had never been one for keeping a room tidy, leaving it to servants to clean up after him. And since he had no money for a valet, he was entirely on his own in regards to the personal orderliness and clothes—the very clothes that were tossed over every available surface, though the open closet doors revealed that it was empty. Several pairs of boots and stockings were strewn in the middle of the floor, asking to be tripped over, while an empty tray with remnants of a meal, empty china cups and a cold pot of tea occupied a nearby dresser. On the table nearest the bed, a half-empty bottle of brandy and several glasses left room for little else.
Hearing snores, he approached the bed where his cousin lay hidden under a mountain of covers and pillows. Dreading what must be done, William reached out to shake his shoulder. There was no response, so he did it more forcefully the next time, calling his name simultaneously.
“I... I was not—” Andrew stuttered, sitting up in the bed as he wiped the sleep from his eyes, then looking about anxiously it dawned on him that William was the only one in the room. “For heaven’s sake, Fitz! What in blazes are you doing here? And why have you come at this ungodly hour?”
“I am here because we have urgent things to discuss,” William answered, his face emotionless.
Andrew rolled over in the bed. “Leave me alone! Let me rest and I will talk with you later. I did not get into bed until daylight.” He concluded by pulling the counterpane over his head.
William reached for the counterpane, grasped it and jerked it completely off the bed. “That is no concern of mine. You will get up at once.”
Andrew sat up now, his eyes shooting fiery darts at his tormentor. “What do you want this time? Have you not done enough by cutting my allowance to the bone? Must you make my life more miserable by harassing me in person?”
“Miss Effie Harrington.”
For a brief moment, panic filled Andrew’s eyes; however, he quickly recovered, wiping all emotion from his face. “What about Miss Harrington? Her father owns the estate next to Winfield Hall and I have known her for years.”
“It seems that you know her too well. Her father paid me a visit whilst I was in Town. He is expecting you to make her an offer of marriage and, after listening to his story, I agree.”
“An offer? Are you both daft?” Andrew sputtered, as he slid out of the bed and reached for his breeches. Pulling them on, he added, “Beyond exchanging greetings, I barely know the woman. And, have you seen her? She is certainly no beauty! Even you would concede that I would never have shown any interest in one so plain. I flirted with her, as I do all women. Anything else she maintains happened is a complete fabrication.”
William pulled a letter from an inside pocket of his coat. “This letter proves otherwise.”
Andrew grabbed the letter and glanced over it quickly before tossing it on the bed. “That is not my handwriting. You have been duped if you believe that it is.”
Reaching into his coat pocket, William brought out the brooch. Tossing it to Andrew, he added, “I fear it is Miss Harrington who has been duped.”
Taken aback, Andrew sat down on the side of the bed, his mind spinning with lies. “It is not what you think.”
Forgetting his desire to let the rest of the house sleep, William lost his temper. “NOT ANOTHER WORD!” he commanded, pounding the bedside table. The brandy bottle sloshed from side to side, but held steady, while two glasses fell to the floor.
Andrew swallowed hard several times, as though attempting to keep from losing what little food occupied his stomach.
“Hear me, and hear me well,” William demanded as he leaned down to look him in the eye. “I believe Miss Harrington’s account of what happened and you WILL go to Marsden Park immediately and make her an offer of marriage.”
“But... but I cannot possibly marry Miss Harrington. I care nothing for her! And if I were inclined to marry, it would certainly not be her. Besides, you have preached for years that I cannot afford a wife and I am in agreement.”
“While it is true that your estate will barely support you, much less a wife or children, that is the least of your worries at this point. If you value your life, you will marry her.”
“Have you sunk so low as to threaten to kill me if I do not obey your dictates?”
“It is not I who will be your executioner; it is Lord Warren.”
Fear filled Andrew’s eyes as his face went pale. William was glad for it. Perhaps there is some sense left in him.
William continued. “When I met with Mr. Harrington, it was at Lord Warren’s townhouse. He informed me that he was the Harringtons’ cousin and would champion Miss Harrington’s side. If you have any intelligence, you will realise that you have no choice but to marry her. Otherwise, Lord Warren will likely call you out. If you face him on the field of honour, you will die.”
“Duels are illegal! He would be a fool to chance being caught!”
“You are a fool if you think duels do not still occur frequently! The law will overlook anything Lord Warren does. But should he wish, he could make your existence pure hell without challenging you. With his contacts, he can see that no one will buy from or sell to you. Even the few goods Winfield Hall produces will find no takers. Nor will your so-called friends anger him by acknowledging you. You will be a social outcast among those you care for so dearly. Even Whites will be closed to you! It is as simple as that.”
Andrew dropped his head in his hands. “How can this be? My sources never mentioned that Warren was their cousin.”
“Your sources?” William chided. “The same sources that failed to tell you that Miss Harrington was not her father’s heir until you carried your charade too far?”
Andrew reached for the shirt he had worn yesterday and pulled it over his head. “I shall make this right, Cousin. Just give me a few days and you will see that it was all a huge misunderstanding. She simply misconstrued my kindness.”
Ignoring his words, William added, “You will leave for Manchester no later than tomorrow morning. I instructed Mr. Harrington to notify me immediately when the plans for the marriage are finalised.”
“I assure you that after I have explained—”
William held up both hands. “Save your breath. Should you fail to satisfy the Harringtons, your allowance will be discontinued and any inheritance that was held in escrow for the slight chance that you would mature will be forfeited straightaway.”
“You would really enjoy that!” Andrew sneered. “No more of your father’s precious money being wasted on me.”
William turned to leave, and Andrew grabbed his arm. “Wait!” He pasted on a smile. “Forgive me. I did not mean that. I am just upset that Mr. Harrington has involved you in a misunderstanding. Will you at least answer a question?”
“Ask.”
“If Mr. Harrington writes to inform you that I am under no obligation to marry his daughter and all has been settled amicably, will my allowance and inheritance be restored to the former arrangement?”
“Though I find that highly unlikely, on the slight chance that you are successful in convincing the Harringtons, I will reconsider. But I would need to hear from Mr. Harrington and Lord Warren in person to believe it.”
“Excellent! I shall be off to Manchester in the morning!” Andrew began rushing around the room, picking up his clothes. Shaking his head in disgust, William headed to the door.
Andrew suddenly seemed to remember something. “Wait!” William turned, his face set like stone. “In all the uproar, I forgot that my coach needs a wheel and as you have not paid my allowance for the month, I have no funds to fix it. It is presently at the smithy in Meryton. I have been forced to travel lately by horseback, but if I am to travel as far as Manchester, I shall need the coach.
William’s eyes narrowed while he studied his cousin. Unable to tell if he were lying, he reached into his pocket for a few pounds. “Take this and have the wheel fixed, but do not loiter in town. I want you to have plenty of rest so that you are on the road to Manchester at daybreak.”
Andrew ventured an insincere smile. “You have no worries on that account. I aim to do my duty, but might I ask when I can expect the rest of my allowance? What you have given me is but a pittance.”
The smile faded with William’s reply. “Due to your conduct, I am not in the mood to discuss it. Frankly, under the circumstances, I cannot believe you would mention it.”
Having said that, he entered the hallway, pulling the door closed behind him. He had not taken ten steps when something hit the back of the door and curses filled the air. Normally, William might have shrugged off Andrew’s ire, but this time he sighed in resignation. There was no pleasure to be found in coercing Andrew to marry a gentlewoman, even one so plain as Effie Harrington.
The sudden screech of Caroline’s voice somewhere down the hall brought his thoughts back to the present. Picking up his pace, he hurried to the guest room he always occupied at Netherfield, rushed inside it and locked the door. Bone tired from his journey, he doffed his coat, waistcoat and cravat, all the while eyeing the large basin of steaming water fogging the dressing room mirror. Just the thought of the hot water on the back of his neck made the knot there relax a bit and he massaged it as he walked in that direction. In the years since his father’s death, Andrew’s troubles had taken a heavy toll and he yearned to be out from under that burden.
Is just a bit of peace, a touch of joy, too much to ask, Lord? A respectable wife to brighten my days and children to cherish? After all, Mother always said a good woman could make a man more than he would ever be on his own .
His thoughts flew to Andrew. Perhaps if he married a decent woman, he would become a better man. Stopping to examine that idea, William shook his head. Even I cannot believe that.
AUNT PHILLIPS’ HOUSE
That evening
Though not substantially larger than the abodes of many of the businessmen of Meryton, the Phillips’ house appeared larger due to the sizeable portico that wrapped around three sides of it. It was this extra space that allowed most of the town’s citizenry to attend the soirées given by John Phillips, a solicitor, and his wife, Agnes. In addition, it provided the young people with a ready excuse for slipping out of the oft-times airless parlour and, as they did so this evening, they were treated to a lovely view—the moon, full and luminescent. That sight, in addition to the romantic melodies wafting through the open windows, gave the night a magical quality, raising the expectations of the couples who fancied themselves in love.
This particular night a goodly number of militia were also in attendance, which added to the throng—and Lieutenant Wickham was among them. Lydia and Kitty had spied him straightaway and were now hanging on his every word in a far corner of the portico. Disappointing to Elizabeth, however, was the fact that Wickham’s childhood friend, Andrew Darcy, was not with him. She particularly needed to speak to that gentleman before her father did. Ignoring the truth of the matter was no longer an option.
While she had been partial to Andrew Darcy from the start, his aim in lingering in Meryton was now troubling. After all, if he were unable to marry until after his grandmother’s demise, then the proper course of action would have been to leave Meryton and return when his circumstances altered. Instead he had stayed, making a show of singling her out at every opportunity.
For a short time she had been flattered; now she was simply mortified. Summoned to her father’s study that very day, he had demanded to know whether Mr. Darcy had been courting her without his permission, as the gossip indicated. Though she denied everything, upon reflection it was a logical assumption, and Elizabeth could not fault her neighbours for concluding as much. Instantly, everything was clear! Believing herself clever, she had tossed aside decorum for a game—a phantom courtship. Now, it was up to her to set the record straight.
“Lizzy, do you think Mr. Wickham will ask me to dance?”
Lydia’s whining brought Elizabeth’s thoughts back to the present and she turned to find her youngest sisters standing behind her. Their eyes, however, were still fixed on the spot where Wickham stood, now flirting with Mary King.
“I had his undivided attention until Mary arrived. Now he acts as though she is the only woman in the world. Why would he notice that freckled-face bore when I am here? I am a much prettier!”
“Lydia! How unkind y
ou are,” Elizabeth chided. “Mary King has always been a good friend to you and you should not disparage her appearance in that manner. If she has his attention, be glad for her. She is not used to being noticed.”
“But why does she have to have my man’s attention?” Lydia grumbled.
“Mr. Wickham is not yours, Lydia,” Kitty giggled.
“Well, where is your favourite? Mr. Denny did not deign to come at all!” Kitty’s face dropped, which was clearly Lydia’s intention. “At least Mr. Wickham attended.” Suddenly her face lit up. “Look! He is coming towards us now.”
Lydia and Kitty turned to face him, while Elizabeth hurried in the opposite direction. She could not abide that gentleman’s attempt to compliment her or the way he stared at her bosom all the while he spoke. Now on the side of the house, nearest the parlour, she glanced in through the window to see that a dance was beginning. Bingley was standing up with Jane and the sight made her smile with genuine happiness.
At least one of us has found a knight in shining armour!
“Miss Elizabeth!” She turned to find Andrew Darcy simultaneously bowing and removing his hat. “Forgive me, for I am late. My horse threw a shoe on my way back to Meryton and I was so late getting here that I slept most of the day.”
What he did not say was that he had slipped out of Netherfield through a window to be there. He had no intention of missing this opportunity to see Elizabeth though his cousin would certainly not have approved. So when he paid the smithy for the coach wheel, he rigged a side door to the stable so that it would not close properly, knowing the hay in the loft would make an adequate bed and he would not have to risk sneaking back into Netherfield. At the crack of dawn, his driver and footmen were to bring the coach to the edge of Meryton where he would steal on board. Thus, Fitz would assume he had been in his room all night and, as ordered, had left for Manchester.
“You owe me no apologies, Mr. Darcy, for you are certainly under no obligation to inform me of your whereabouts.”
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