LONDON
Matlock House
Lady Matlock hurried down the grand staircase as quickly as she dared in order to comply with her husband’s wishes, for a countess never ran. Nonetheless, the summons to Edward’s study had been as fear-provoking as it was curt. Come at once!
In over thirty years of marriage, he had never interrupted her when she was entertaining in her private parlour. Most especially, he should not have today, knowing that her guest was one of the ruling members of the ton and someone she was counting on to ease Georgiana’s entrance into society— Countess Esterházy. 8 That august lady now waited upstairs while she rushed to obey his directive, and as she did, Lady Matlock’s mind flew wildly from one presumed disaster to another. Edgar had been present this morning when they broke their fast, so most likely he was well, but her younger son was another matter entirely. Had something happened to Richard? Given his current assignment for the army and his propensity for accidents, she worried for his safety, for between their sons, Richard had always been the one who required a bandage, if not stitches, every so often.
Suddenly, she was standing outside the room she never entered except by invitation. A footman watched her sombrely, awaiting her command. Lady Matlock took a deep breath and straightened to her full height—all five feet and four inches of it. I refuse to fall apart while there is company in the house. Nodding, she watched the servant knock on the door.
A disembodied voice called, “Come!”
The footman opened the door, and she stepped inside. Noting that Edward was red in the face and standing, not sitting, behind his desk, she knew straightaway that he was angry. However, almost immediately a diminutive man in an ill-fitting coat who had been seated began to stand. The smile on his face led her to conclude that he was quite pleased with himself. Convinced that he was of no import, she ignored him and addressed her husband.
“To what do I owe this summons? I am certain that you are aware that I have company awaiting me, even as we speak.”
“Blast your company!” the earl bellowed, slamming his hand against the wall and causing a picture to tilt precariously. He rubbed his fist. “And for heaven’s sake, sit down, Collins!”
The now-trembling guest sat down, nervously glancing between the two.
The earl’s gaze returned to his wife. “This is Mr. Collins, Catherine’s new vicar. He has brought grave news... grave news indeed.”
The countess’ heart stopped to realise that a man of the cloth was bearing bad news. She asked, “Is it Richard?”
“What? Richard?” the earl sputtered. “No, no! It is Darcy!”
She sank down in a nearby chair, stunned. Though they did not always agree, Fitzwilliam was like one of her own children. “He is dead,” she said woodenly.
“Dead? What gave you that silly notion? No, it is far worse! Collins came to inform me that my nephew is slated to marry some nobody from Hertfordshire! Despite having no confidence in his account, The Morning Post 9 was on the corner of my desk, so I opened it to the society pages to find the announcement was made this very morning— in bold print no less!”
With that declaration, he slid the paper across the desk. Confused, Lady Matlock picked it up and read the offending item. Then she eyed the vicar. “How would you have known of this before the announcement?”
Lord Matlock answered in his stead. “Collins is heir to a small estate in Hertfordshire called Longbourn, where this fortune hunter resides. He tells me that that little chit has no connections and, worst of all, no dowry to speak of!”
When the truth of the matter finally became clear, Lady Matlock became light-headed with relief. Her face brightened as she whispered, “He is not dead, only married.”
“My Lord, woman! You act as though it is a good thing! It would be better had he died!”
“You cannot mean that.”
“My nephew has not only ruined himself, but our dear Georgiana in the bargain. Her chances for a good match have been lessened considerably, if not destroyed. And we shall all be tainted by the scandal that is sure to follow.”
Mr. Collins nodded furiously all while the earl spoke, then suddenly interjected, “I knew that as head of the family you would want to know immediately, and since it would take much longer to reach Kent to advise my noble—”
“SILENCE!” the earl bellowed. Collins’ face drained of all colour. “Now, tell my wife what you told me.”
The vicar complied, though his voice quivered. When he finished, the silence in the room was deafening. The earl had taken his seat as Collins related the tale once again and was now rubbing his chin with one hand and staring into space. This was a posture Lady Matlock had seen regularly over the years—whenever her husband was about to force his will on others. The countess decided she must be the voice of reason.
“Mr. Collins, I am sorry that you must return to Hunsford immediately.”
Comprehending the command hidden in the politeness, Collins stood and picked up a satchel lying on the floor. He bowed quickly towards Lord Matlock and then the countess.
“If you will excuse me, I must take my leave.”
Neither Matlock replied as he headed to the door. However, just as he touched the doorknob, the earl declared, “You WILL keep this information to yourself, Mr. Collins.”
Collins turned around, stricken with fear. “But... but what of Lady Catherine?”
“I shall inform my sister WHEN I decide.”
Collins swallowed hard. “Her ladyship will be livid if she learns that I knew and did not tell her.”
“She shall learn of Darcy’s folly soon enough; however, I will not have you hastening it along. I cannot deal with my nephew and Catherine at the same time! Your involvement will only become known if you disregard my order.”
The earl stood, his eyes narrowing as he leaned across his desk and braced himself on his out-stretched fingers. “And believe me—that would be a very foolish thing for a man of your station to do.”
The warning could not have been clearer, and the vicar’s knees began to knock. “Of... of course, Lord Matlock. Lady Catherine will not hear a word of it from me.”
As swiftly as possible, Mr. Collins quit the room and then practically ran from the house. It was not until the large front door closed solidly behind him that he let go of the breath he had been holding. Drained, he stepped away from the door, leaned against the wall and let his head fall back. How had it all gone so awry? Though he had succeeded in informing Mr. Darcy’s uncle of the disaster, he would not be allowed to tell Lady Catherine, and that could cost him his employment. Sighing, he pushed away from the house and rushed down the steps. There was nothing to do but to return to Hunsford straightaway and pretend he knew nothing of Darcy’s wedding.
I shall simply tell Lady Catherine that I never returned to Longbourn! Yes, that is it! I was too busy to stop by the Bennets’ household on my way back to London, and I never got the chance to ask if anyone had seen Mr. Darcy.
Relived that he had thought of a plan, he hurried towards the nearest coach stop to board a vehicle to Kent. After all, there was a sermon to prepare for Sunday and likely a list lying on his kitchen table. Lady Catherine believed in keeping track of things that needed doing, just in case he should forget. She was very thoughtful in that way.
MEANWHILE, IN THE EARL’S study, Lord Matlock paced the room without saying a word. His wife knew this was never a good omen; thus, she tried to appeal to her husband’s more rational side.
“Edward, we must appear to support Fitzwilliam, otherwise your prediction will come true—whatever gossip is bandied about will turn into a greater scandal if it appears that our family has turned against him.”
“Humph!” Edward huffed. “I should cut him off from the family.”
“May I make a suggestion?” Lady Matlock ventured. The earl nodded. “Since Countess Esterházy is here, I will disclose to her what has happened, being sure to emphasise that Fitzwilliam met this young woman only a few we
eks ago. I will add that he confessed to being so besotted that he could not wait to marry her. The ton is more forgiving if a marriage appears to be a love match.”
The earl whirled around. “A love match, woman? He had to have been entrapped!”
“You are not ignorant of the number of fortune hunters Fitzwilliam has thwarted. Do you see him blithely falling into a country girl’s snare? I do not. If he is in love with her, all you will accomplish is to alienate him. We must act wisely.”
“It appears Darcy has schemed behind my back, and I have no doubt that Richard knows and supports him wholeheartedly!”
“You should not criticize our son without the facts.”
“The fact is that Richard and Darcy defy me as a team, which makes each of them bolder. Nevertheless, I shall bring the full force of the family to bear on both if I feel it necessary. Obviously, the woman’s character will speak for itself. But, mark my words; I will not sanction a marriage of unequals.”
“Oh, Edward! Must you be so dramatic? If Fitzwilliam is married, I have no doubt that she is proper, even if she is not wealthy.”
He sniffed. “No one is truly proper without wealth.”
“I shall not belabour that point, as we shall never agree,” Lady Matlock sighed. “Now, we must decide who shall tell Georgiana.”
“I am of the opinion—”
“Good heavens!” the countess interrupted. “I completely forgot about the ball! This will be devastating for Lady Susan. Fitzwilliam was to be her escort.”
“Lady Susan is fully grown, and I have no doubt that she will survive. My fear is what Georgiana will do when she learns of her brother’s folly. As I do not cope well with crying young ladies, I will leave the telling to you.”
“As you wish. Now, I must return to my guest before she decides I have disappeared entirely. After our talk, I am certain she will leave in order to share the news with others. At that point, I shall seek out our niece and explain what has happened. While I am occupied, try not to do anything without speaking to me first. You know how irrational you become when you are angry.”
“I am never irrational, Evelyn. You simply do not understand my motives because the future of the entire family rests on my shoulders and not yours.”
“Things are not as they were when your father was earl, my dear. Today many are accepted into our society who are only one generation removed from trade. And peers are marrying whoever they wish, even their mistresses.”
“Still, it is not proper.”
Lady Matlock shook her head slowly. “I fear for your sanity if you persist in keeping to the old order.”
The earl did not reply but proceeded to pour himself a glass of brandy. Lady Matlock could not wait on his concurrence, however, so she left the room, heading in the direction of her parlour. Entering, she found Countess Esterházy gazing at Hyde Park from the window, holding a cup of tepid tea in her hand.
“Forgive me for taking so long. I have called for a fresh pot of tea and a new tray of cakes, as I have some wonderful news that I simply must share or I shall die! It concerns my nephew, Fitzwilliam Darcy.”
Her enthusiasm was palpable, and Countess Esterházy hurried to sit back down. Instantly, the tall, dark and handsome Mr. Darcy came to her mind. A twinge of regret crossed the lady’s face as she replied, “I remember your nephew fondly.”
In truth, she had been infatuated with that gentleman since they met at one of Lady Matlock’s balls several years before. As a rule, she had no difficulty seducing vibrant young men, but Mr. Darcy had proved to be the exception. Even now, she recalled drowning in his light blue eyes the night he politely declined her invitation to become her next lover.
“I shall be pleased to hear whatever you wish to share.”
“Wonderful! For I am bursting to tell it.”
Chapter 12
London
Darcy House
As William’s coach rolled through London just after noon, a downpour began in earnest. It pleased him greatly, for the rain meant that there would be fewer people on the streets to notice the crest on the side of the coach. The only unfortunate aspect of the weather was the fact that Richard was getting wet astride his stallion. He considered asking his cousin to join him inside the coach, but dismissed that idea.
Serves him right for teasing me! Besides, he has on his greatcoat, so he will not be too soaked.
In fact, by the time the worst of the storm had begun, the vehicle was nearing the back drive of his townhouse, so he leaned across to wake Elizabeth. At his touch, she sat straight up, her eyes as wide as a young deer he had once found in the woods. He was troubled to see the same fear in them.
“Elizabeth, there is nothing amiss. We have arrived at Darcy House. It is raining, so you may want to don your bonnet though a footman should appear with an umbrella as soon as the steps are lowered.”
He accompanied this bit of advice with a wide smile, hoping to reassure her, but she still appeared uncertain. Tugging her shawl so that it once more covered her shoulders, she dismissed the bonnet, tossing it aside. Then she clasped her reticule, a book and a small satchel that she had held possessively the entire trip.
“You may leave the bag,” William urged. “The servants will bring everything inside.”
“I prefer to keep it with me.”
Though his brow knit in question, William nodded. “As you wish.”
When the coach halted, William descended the steps first and then turned to hand her out. As soon as Elizabeth’s feet were on the ground, however, she walked briskly up the gravel path towards the door with the servant hurrying alongside, trying to shield her from the rain. Unfortunately, at one point there was a place where the downpour had washed away most of the gravel, creating a stream of water not easily crossed by one so petite. Seeing her hesitation, William, who was right behind, instantly swept her into his arms without so much as a warning and carried her over the water and into the house.
Elizabeth had no time to object, and, as a result, clung to him in confusion. Though she would never admit it, she found the experience exhilarating. He had always cut a handsome figure, with his broad shoulders and narrow waist, and, despite her best efforts, she had come to admire his lean frame. But now, with arms akin to steel bands around her and the hard muscles of his chest rippling beneath the hand that rested there, something unexpected transpired—an odd tingling sensation began. Starting at her toes, it raced upward to the pit of her stomach. Desires she had never experienced before, along with thoughts of being in those arms tonight, made her feel faint.
However, her imaginings ended brusquely when William set her on her feet inside the house. As she smoothed her skirts, feigning calmness she did not feel, Elizabeth stole a glance at her husband. Had he experienced the same emotions? She could detect no discomfiture in his manner; thus, she concluded that he had not. As she pondered all this, a cry came from behind, and she turned to see an older couple rushing towards them. A woman she assumed was the housekeeper spoke first.
“Oh, Mr. Darcy, we were expecting you and Mrs. Darcy to come in the front door! All the servants are eager to greet you and it will only take a moment to assemble them.”
She offered a restrained smile to Elizabeth, almost as though she was not quite sure whether she approved of her or not. The gentleman was not smiling but instead studied her closely. William made the introductions.
“Mrs. Darcy, allow me to introduce Mr. and Mrs. Barnes. They have served my family as butler and housekeeper for longer than I have been alive.” The housekeeper bobbed a curtsey while her husband bowed.
Elizabeth smiled warmly. “I am pleased to meet you. I imagine that you know many tales of my husband’s childhood that he would rather forget. Mayhap that information will be useful to me in the future.”
Her reply caused both servants to relax. Instantly, William took her arm, intending to escort her to the front of the house. “My wife will meet the other servants later. She is tired and would like
to rest. Barnes, will you see to the luggage?”
As the butler passed them on his way to supervise the unloading of the coach, Elizabeth scowled at William. He did not notice.
How would he know if I am tired? He has not asked! I slept most of the way from Longbourn, so I am certainly rested enough to greet the servants.
Biting her lip in a bid not to contradict her new husband, especially in front of the servants, she concentrated on matching his long stride as he walked towards the front of the house. Elizabeth could not help but notice how enormous the house was as they passed one room after another. From what little she could see, it was very elegant and much more richly furnished than even Netherfield. Almost in a trance at the novelty of it all, Elizabeth barely attended to the conversation occurring between her husband and the housekeeper once they reached the stately foyer. For she was turning in a circle, admiring the paintings, tapestries and mirrors that covered the walls two stories high, before her attention was caught by the stained glass skylight in the ceiling. Mesmerised by its beauty, only the mention of her name penetrated her consciousness and brought her back to the present.
“Tell her that will not do! Indeed, Madam Bouvier needs to be here first thing tomorrow, as I have Mr. Curry scheduled directly afterward to make his sketches. Stress that her commission will be substantial, as Mrs. Darcy will need an entire wardrobe, something for every season, including slippers to match her gowns and boots for the rugged terrain in Derbyshire, so I expect her to bring the shoemaker, too. It is my wish that a good many clothes be completed right away; the others can be shipped when finished. Assure her that, in the event she needs to hire more seamstresses, I will pay extra to have the items expedited.”
“Yes, sir. And, I managed to locate a lady’s maid,” Mrs. Barnes stated. “She should be here tomorrow.”
“Excellent!” William responded. “No doubt my wife will be pleased.”
Darcy and Elizabeth--A Most Unlikely Couple Page 19
