Olivia walked past them, halting at the door. “I really must go. I promised your uncle that I would not be gone all morning.” She winked. “You see, just like the two of you, he still misses me whenever we are apart.”
William and Elizabeth watched her go with smiling faces before facing each other. “You mentioned that you were leaving,” he said cautiously.
“Will, you do realise that I have completely neglected the sewing lessons for the girls at the home. What will they think?”
William patiently took the book and pattern from her hand and laid them back on her desk. “Mrs. Moody and Mrs. Samson volunteered to help with the lessons until such time as you can resume them. So there is no reason for you to worry.”
The golden facets of her eyes sparkled with many emotions— all of which were enchanting. “And why have you not told me this before now?”
“It is simple. Since our stay at the cottage, I have selfishly desired all of your attention; thus, I was of a mind not to bring up the subject unless you mentioned it.”
She beamed, running both hands over the hard muscles of his chest and then around his neck. Entwining her fingers with the long curls at his collar, Elizabeth whispered, “You, sir, are a hopeless romantic.”
William’s expression grew serious, his eyes darkening with desire. “I am guilty as charged, and I throw myself upon your tender mercy.” Another fierce kiss ensued before he tilted his head back to ask, “Do you have any objections to disappearing with me for the rest of the day?”
Her eyes twinkled with naughtiness, and impulsively William swept his wife off her feet, setting off a round of giggles. Then he carried her through the door and started down the hall toward their suite.
“Will! The servants!” Elizabeth exclaimed, kicking her feet weakly as if to protest. “What will they think?”
“They will think I am passionately in love with my wife and they would be correct.”
As fate would have it, at the sound of them in the hall, Polly and Clara scrambled to keep out of sight in the room they were about to exit. Immediately after the Darcys passed their door, both maids stuck their heads into the hall to follow their progress. Fascinated, they watched as the man they had always thought of as very proper acted like a besotted schoolboy.
As the Darcys got further away, Clara whispered, “I would not have believed it had I not seen it with my own eyes.”
“Nor I,” Polly agreed. Then she giggled. “I suppose Florence was right about one thing.”
“What is that?”
“If they were not sharing a bed before, they are now.”
Just after the Darcys went out of sight around the corner, Mrs. Reynolds started down the hall from the opposite direction. Quickly grabbing their cleaning items, the maids exited the room with stoic faces. Nodding as they passed the housekeeper, Clara and Polly made it halfway down the hall before they could hold back no longer and broke into giggles. Mrs. Reynolds stopped and studied the two, her brows furrowing. Then noticing that the mistress’ study door was open, she looked inside and, seeing no one, closed and locked it before going on her way.
MONTHAVEN MANOR
As Mrs. Holden made her way up the stairs to the small library on the second floor while carrying a tray of fresh tea and refreshments, she reflected on how much her life had changed since Lord Hartley was no longer there. She had worked for the Hartleys all her life, first for the parents and afterward for their son. Then after he was lost, Mrs. Holden had stayed on with his widow, despite the fact that she had no admiration for the woman, because she felt that she was too old to begin again elsewhere.
Her mistress thought her position entitled her to respect, although she did nothing to warrant it. Not only was her eye critical and her tongue sharp, but none of the servants thought her a good mother to Lord Hartley’s heir, for she left him in the care of nannies at the Hartley estate while she wandered all over England. And from what Mrs. Holden had overheard since accompanying her mistress to London, and afterward here, her employer was a manipulator. This was especially true of today’s guest, Miss Darcy, whom the maid thought entirely too malleable. She had known the girl’s brother, Fitzwilliam, since he and Lord Hartley had attended university together, and she thought well of him.
At least he had sense enough not to fall for Lady Susan Patton’s wiles. That was more than I can say for poor Lord Hartley.
By now Mrs. Holden was outside the library and could hear the conversation inside that room through the open door. Looking about and seeing no other servants, she stepped to the side of the door to see what she might learn.
“Andrew, I fear it will not help if I confront Fitzwilliam about selling your estate,” Georgiana said, her voice rising with frustration. “In fact, it would do the opposite and strengthen his resolve. Only this week I was told that my opinions are not valid and that I should keep them to myself.”
“It is just as I said,” Lady Susan interjected. “Your best course of action is to present your cousin with a substantial amount of money toward Winfield’s debts. That will prove that you have not been shirking your duty but have been working to keep the estate solvent. With any luck, Fitzwilliam will cancel the sale.”
“But you do not understand!” Andrew declared. “Though my new project should prove lucrative, I have just now begun to make a profit. I have only three hundred pounds saved, and that will not be enough to impress Fitz.”
“How much do you need, then?” Lord Attaway asked.
Andrew grasped his chin, rubbing one finger back and forth over his lips as he considered his answer. “Most likely an additional five hundred pounds, if I am to convince him that I am serious about saving Winfield Hall.”
Sighing heavily, Lady Susan stood and walked over to a window where she stared into the distance for a time. Everyone in the room waited with bated breath until she turned to address Andrew.
“I shall lend you five hundred pounds. With your three, that should be sufficient inducement for Fitzwilliam to give you more time to turn a profit and save the estate.”
“That is very kind of you, Susan. Rest assured that I shall pay you back within the next two to three months.”
“If I may ask, what is your new occupation, Andrew?” Georgiana asked innocently.
“He will not tell us, Miss Darcy,” Attaway broke in with a chuckle. “I imagine he wants to keep all the profits to himself.”
Andrew laughed along with him. “If everyone knew about it, there would be too many investors and not as much profit. I abhor people who are self-seeking, but with Fitz on my back, I truly need this enterprise to keep Winfield Hall afloat.”
Lady Susan pressed him. “So when will you talk to Fitzwilliam?”
“First I have some business to conduct, but in several days, I should have time to schedule a meeting with him.”
Georgiana set a delicate teacup on the table next to her and rose from the sofa. “I hate to leave good company, but I simply must. Brother thinks I am riding at Pemberley. He would be furious if he found out I came here without his permission.”
Susan rushed to her. “Thank you for coming. I am so glad that you not only joined us for tea but had the opportunity to see your cousin again.”
Georgiana smiled at Attaway. “I am glad that I got to see everyone.” Then she turned her smile on Andrew. “You especially, Cousin. You will never know how dull Pemberley is now that you are gone and Fitzwilliam is married.”
“So it is not as it was when you and I used to entertain one another with our jokes?”
“Not at all! Now Fitzwilliam spends an inordinate amount of time in his rooms with Elizabeth. So much so, that the house seems more a mausoleum than a home.”
Susan broke in. “That will change soon, dear. Mark my words.”
Apparently unconvinced, Georgiana tilted her head and shrugged her shoulders. At that exact moment, Mrs. Holden knocked on the door and walked into the room with the tea and biscuits.
“Will you not
stay and have a fresh cup of tea before you go?” Susan asked Georgiana.
“No, thank you. I must leave.”
As Georgiana walked toward the door, Susan hurriedly caught up with her, putting her arm through her friend’s as she looked back over her shoulder and addressed the maid.
“Please pour for our guests, Mrs. Holden. I shall return as soon as I have seen Miss Darcy to the door.”
As the two ladies quit the room, Andrew and Attaway went over to the table where the maid began filling cups with tea.
AFTER GEORGIANA’S DEPARTURE
When Lady Susan re-entered the library, she began speaking immediately. “I apologise, Andrew. I know that you asked that your presence here be kept a secret, but Matthew had asked Georgiana to come for tea and she decided, out of the blue, to come today. We had no notice.”
“No need for apology. Georgiana has always been a close ally. I know she will not give me away.”
Noticing that the maid was standing off to the side, Lady Susan said, “You may go, Mrs. Holden. I shall ring if I need you.”
“Yes, my lady,” the maid replied, curtseying and exiting the room. Once more she waited just outside the door to eavesdrop.
“Now, let us discuss things best kept secret from Georgiana at present. What can you do to help me discredit that woman Fitzwilliam married? Rumours are that you and she were once close, so tell me something I can use against her.”
Andrew shrugged. “I admit that on first acquaintance thoughts of offering for her did cross my mind; after all, she is a pretty little thing with fine eyes and a lot of spirit. But by the time my cousin arrived in Meryton, I had decided that her lack of a fortune made an offer impossible. Still, I had plans to parlay her sympathy of my position to my advantage. Of course, Fitz ruined that.”
“Then you have no evidence to prove she was a harlot?”
“If they consummated the marriage, then Fitz knows very well that she was a virgin when they married. How can I refute that?”
“Well, she could have committed indiscretions without going that far.”
“I am sure that he would not take my word over his wife’s, if that is what you are implying. Especially if he is as smitten as Georgiana says.”
“Then I shall have to reconsider my offer to help you. Why should I lend you five hundred pounds if you cannot help rid Pemberley of her?”
Andrew grew anxious. “I... I can think of only one thing that might convince Fitz that she is not the woman he believed her to be when they wed.”
“Pray tell me what it is then,” Susan said sarcastically.
Attaway laughed aloud, catching himself when Andrew gave him a formidable scowl.
“I can draw unflattering portraits of her and arrange for them to fall into Fitz’s hands. Of course, he must never know that I was the artist.”
Lord Attaway snickered now, causing Lady Susan to sneer at him before confronting Andrew. “You draw pictures? How ridiculous is that!”
“I can draw; I have all my life! In fact, I paid my way with that talent while I was in London, but I kept it quiet for my protection.”
Susan sneered, “Why would you need protection? And how would unflattering pictures turn Fitzwilliam against that chit?”
“In one word—nudes. I have been creating nude portraits in charcoal of any woman that a man may desire.”
“Even another man’s wife?” Susan asked.
“Mostly other men’s wives. And you can understand that if a relation of one of my subjects saw the portrait, there would be hell to pay; thus, the reason for the secrecy.”
Attaway chimed in. “How could a man bring such a drawing home?”
“The gentlemen who commission my drawings claim that they hang them where their wives are never allowed—like a study, an office or a bedroom.”
“So any man can possess a nude that bears a resemblance to another man’s wife, daughter or sweetheart for his private enjoyment?” Attaway asked in awe.
“Exactly,” Andrew said.
“How ingenious!” Attaway exclaimed. “I have someone in mind already.”
“I pay you well, so keep your mind on the task at hand,” Susan declared hotly. Then she questioned Andrew. “But if they order from you, do they not think you are the artist?”
“I have convinced them that I am the go-between for a friend—a portraitist. I tell them that I get a portion of the sale and it helps keep the artist from starving between commissioned portraits. Still, I would be suspect if word got out.”
“I see,” Lady Susan said circumspectly. Then a small smile appeared on her face. “It might work. Fitzwilliam is such a prude that he would die if he thought his wife had posed nude for any man.”
“There is only the slight chance that it might work,” Andrew said. “Clearly Miss Ben—Mrs. Darcy is not that kind of woman. Besides, if Fitz is in love—”
“Save the sentimentality! What choice do I have at this point? How soon can I have the drawing?”
“As I said, I have business to handle and then I shall return and talk to Fitz.”
“Good! Have the drawing when you return, and we have a bargain.”
“As you wish.”
PEMBERLEY
That same day
As Colonel Fitzwilliam’s stallion galloped the final hundred yards toward Pemberley, his rider was filled with a mixture of exhaustion and apprehension. The exhaustion resulted from Thaggart’s absence and a head cold that had lingered interminably. His batman had come down with a stomach ailment just as they were to leave and Richard had no doubt that it was due to the large amount of stew and wine he had consumed the night before. But in spite of Thaggart’s infirmity, General Lassiter expected Richard in London by week’s end, so he had no choice but to leave without his aide. In hindsight, he was surprised at how having Thaggart along to handle the horses made the journey less wearisome; thus, he vowed to draft someone to serve in his place the next time something of this nature happened.
His apprehension was the result of not having heard from Darcy lately. His cousin’s last letter contained nothing that would lead Richard to believe that he and Elizabeth had reconciled their differences; in fact, Darcy’s misery had been evident on each page. It tugged at his heart, for Richard had great hopes for his cousin’s marriage when he departed Pemberley for the north, certain that Elizabeth had seen the error of her ways. Presently, however, he was beginning to think he may have been far too optimistic. Nonetheless, he had little time to dwell on that, for a footman was already running down the front steps of Pemberley to take his horse.
“Colonel Fitzwilliam, sir, it is good to see you again.”
Richard squinted against the sun’s glare to see if he could identify the man. “Thank you. Wainwright, is it not?”
“Yes, sir, it is!”
At that moment, the front door opened, and Mr. Walker and Mrs. Reynolds walked onto the portico, smiling a greeting in their usual manner. They waited until Richard had dismounted and began to climb the stairs before they welcomed him almost in unison.
“Colonel Fitzwilliam. So happy to see you again!”
“It is always a pleasure to have you at Pemberley.”
Mrs. Reynolds looked over his shoulder and her brow furrowed. “Where is your shadow?”
“Thaggart became ill in his stomach just before we were to leave. I think he is just weary of travelling and decided to play sick.”
“Oh, I did not think him the kind to miss a stay at Pemberley,” the housekeeper chided with a smile.
Richard guffawed. “When you put it that way, I have to agree.”
As they all entered the foyer, the colonel was a little surprised that William was not there to greet him, so he ventured, “Where is everyone?”
Mrs. Reynolds glanced at Mr. Walker nervously before answering. “Your aunt and uncle are visiting Mrs. Fitzwilliam’s aunt in Lambton. A cousin who is travelling through here on his way to London will be there today. Georgiana is exercising her
horse, but she should return at any time.”
Richard’s eyebrows shot up. “And my cousin and his lovely bride?”
“Mr. and Mrs. Darcy are... ” she lifted her chin a bit protectively, “in their rooms.”
A wry smile crossed Richard’s face as he tried not to laugh aloud. “They are still upstairs?”
Mrs. Reynolds nodded in answer.
“And have they been in their rooms all day?”
“Mr. Darcy met with his steward this morning,” Mr. Walker ventured, trying to be helpful.
A big smile split Richard’s face as he pulled a pocket watch from inside his coat and flipped the case open to see the time. “I see! And do you expect them to come downstairs for tea?”
“I—we had not planned on it, what with the Fitzwilliams in Lambton. Besides, the master and mistress have taken tea in their rooms lately.”
Satisfied that something good must have happened since he was away, Richard declared, “Please do not disturb them on my behalf. If they are not down for dinner, then I shall have you inform Darcy of my arrival, but not before.” Then he leaned close to Mrs. Reynolds, saying mischievously, “What are the chances of getting a basin of hot water to wash the dust off?”
“It would be no trouble at all. However, we can provide a hot bath in less than an hour. That is, if you would rather bathe.”
“A bath would be like heaven! And I would be most appreciative.”
The housekeeper smiled. “A bath it is, then.” She addressed Mr. Walker. “If you will have the men bring in more water, I will have the maids heat it and let you know when to fill the tub.”
Walker nodded and walked away, so Mrs. Reynolds turned back to Richard. “Mrs. Lantrip is preparing cakes and finger sandwiches for tea. I can fetch something for you now, if you are hungry.”
“Let me see,” Richard said, bringing one hand up playfully to cup his chin. “If the Darcys do not come down for tea, then send the tray upstairs. If they do decide to grace everyone with their presence, send word and I shall come downstairs.”
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