Saints and Sinners

by Karen V. Wasylowski

  Chapter 4

  Bridget Durand felt her stomach lurch the moment she heard the voice of her former employer, Fitzwilliam Darcy, speaking to his wife outside the door. Years before she had been a servant in his house, how was she to behave with them now? Although she had been raised a gentleman’s daughter, her father’s early death forced her into service years before she’d met the family, so she’d never felt their social equal, even with her husband’s title. The truth was Bridget’s composure faltered at the mere thought of her former life in London as the mistress of, to her shame, a married man.

  It had been a mistake to return; too many memories would stir up. It was dangerous.

  “Sir Alex, Lady Durand, how good to see you.”

  Standing to her side Bridget’s husband was lost in thought, his heart heavy with worry over his brother. He hadn’t heard Darcy ‘s greeting, so she tugged on his sleeve.

  “Yes?” Turning away from the fireplace he stumbled a bit when he saw his host. “Mr. Darcy!” Sudden movements were awkward for him – his damn wooden leg never allowed for graceful stride, let alone when he was this tired.

  “Sir Alex. Stay there, I shall come to you.”

  “Nonsense, I’m fine.” Alex leaned heavily on his cane as he limped forward. “It’s no trouble to walk, really. I’m just a bit stiff at first.” He clasped Darcy’s outstretched hand warmly. “Oh, it’s grand to see you again. Truly grand, sir.”

  “Please, you must call me William – we are family, after all, not only business partners.” He’d seen Sir Alex a handful of times before the fellow’s leg had been amputated, but not since. Darcy could not imagine the pain he must have experienced then, experienced still.

  “Thank you, William; and, of course, you must call me Alex. You remember my wife, certainly.”

  Bridget stepped forward, a cautious smile on her lips, and then curtseyed despite all her vows not to show deference. “Mr. Darcy.”

  “Bridget, how nice to see you again. Please pardon me, I should say Lady Durand. Yes.” Was this the reason for Lizzy’s fussing? Women! The situation was a bit awkward, surely; but it hardly warranted his wife’s rushing their visitors out the door. Being a naturally gracious host, Darcy wanted his guests to feel comfortable. “Scotland must agree with you, Lady Durand. You look lovelier than ever.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Her gaze glued itself to the floor, her lips compressed. Would anyone notice if she backed into the shadows? Silence followed. A clock was heard ticking loudly in the hallway. It was all a bit strained. Yes, indeed it was.

  “Well. Very good. Oh, Scotland’s a wonderful country. Mrs. Darcy and I traveled there on our wedding trip in eighteen… something… well, years ago. Ahem. Why don’t you tell them, dear? Women love to talk about weddings, you know.”

  “Do we? Shall we pretend you haven’t forgotten the year we were married, then?”

  “Nonsense. I remember the day like it was yesterday, Elizabeth. It was in… early autumn?”

  “Summer, dearest. The fourth of August. Goodness, will you look at the time, William –”

  “Lady Durand, your home is in northern Scotland, is it not?” Darcy interrupted his wife deliberately, hoping his pointedly arched brow would convey to Elizabeth how shocked and displeased he was by her rudeness to their guests.

  It did not. She arched an even higher brow right back at him.

  “Yes, sir.” Bridget replied meekly, looking from one host to the other.

  More of the ticking clock was enjoyed by all.

  “Interesting. Ah. I see. Quite. Near Aberdeen, are you? Very quiet compared to London. You shall miss that calm during Alex’s time in Commons. As you must remember, London is a bustling city.”

  Bridget smoothed out the new crinoline skirts she wore, wishing she felt more at ease. Her clothes were expensive and in the very latest style, yet she felt as if she was still in her black servants’ dress and white cap, still a baby’s nanny.

  “No, sir.”

  “What’s this? Oh, I’m certain you must remember how busy this city can be.”

  “Oh, aye, I do, yes,” her voice faltered a bit, her Scottish brogue more pronounced these days. “I said no, however, to the other statement. I mean your comment about me remaining. My son and I go home once Alex’s brother is returned safely, and Alex’s household in the city is established.”

  “Ah. Really? I hadn’t known that.” Darcy was at a loss for what to say next. He’d never understand the modern attitude toward marriage, the fashion of society couples spending time apart, and this separation promised to be an unusually long one for the couple if she remained in Scotland during the entire session of Parliament. Well, it was none of his business, really. The only marriage that truly interested him was his own. He and Lizzy were never apart, and he genuinely adored his wife, considered her his closest confidante, his life, his reason for living.

  Except for now. Now she was annoying the hell out of him. Now she was poking him in the back, pinching his elbow black and blue, making vague throat clearing sounds at his every comment. He slid gracefully away from her. Oh, yes, Darcy could be very smooth. “Again, may I say congratulations on attaining your seat in Commons, Alex.”

  “Aye, Thank you. Though, without your support, William, I dinnae believe I could’ve defeated m’opponent so easily.”

  “Untrue. You are the right man for the job.” It was then Darcy noticed a pair of small boots fidgeting behind Alex. They belonged to the slender form of a child – however, since the boy’s back was to him Darcy could not make out his face. “It appears you already have chosen your assistant; excellent planning. May I ask who this young gentleman is?”

  “Oh, aye. This is m’son, Ewan. Here, lad, tear your gaze from that dish of candies and meet a great man.”

  “Your son? I had no idea. What a pleasure.” The moment the lad turned Darcy felt an instant rush of tender feelings for the child. He was a handsome lad, sturdy looking and robust, with dark blond hair, devilish blue eyes. In fact, there was something very familiar about him, something proud, something sparkling just beneath the surface.

  It’s almost as if… no, how could that be?

  But…

  Darcy’s gaze went to a painted miniature of himself and his cousin displayed on the mantel, the one he had kept from among all the portraits his late Aunt Catherine had commissioned every other blessed year of their youth. Oh, there were a few discrepancies, but overall there was the same confident stance, the same robust boy with dark blond hair, devilish blue eyes –

  Time in Darcy’s world completely stopped.

  “Mr. Darcy, may I present our son, Ewan.”

  The child made his bow and smiled broadly. “Tis m’honor t’meet with ye, sir.”

  The pronounced dimple on the boy’s chin decided it. That particular trait was shared by Fitzwilliam’s late wife, his twin sons Matthew and Mark, and of course Matthew’s daughter, Amanda Rose. “And, you as well, Ewan.”

  My, oh my, oh my, Lizzy will never let me hear the end of this one. Bloody hell, I wonder if Fitzwilliam knows… he has a grandson.

  Bridget could feel her heart tripping, the blood rushing through her veins. Frightened that Darcy would voice what he so obviously was thinking she took hold of Ewan’s hand. Was the resemblance to Matthew that great? Surely not, her son was just a boy. It was too late to leave, too late to run and hide, yet she could not have Ewan humiliated, branded a bastard, or looked down upon. She placed a protective arm around his shoulders, brushed the hair from his eyes and smiled proudly at her son. “Dearest, I was once employed in this very house as nursemaid to your cousin, Mr. Darcy’s granddaughter, Roberta.”

  “Do I know her, Mama?”

  “She’s one of your favorite chums. Y’know her as Birdy, however – not Roberta.”

  “Uncle Jamie’s daughter?” At his mother’s nod the young boy’s mood brightened considerably. “Is she here now?”

  “I’ve no idea. Is she, Mr. Darcy?”
r />   “I’m certain she’s here somewhere, isn’t that right, Elizabeth?”

  “No.” Lizzy’s narrowed eyes were boring holes into him. What was the matter with her? “She’s gone out for the morning.”

  “It would be that grand to see her again, ma’am. Will she b’home soon?”

  “Elizabeth?” Darcy turned to his wife and began to experience the first niggles of anxiety. There really was something very wrong.

  “It is doubtful she’ll be home before dinner this evening. Perhaps we can arrange another time for you and her to visit, Ewan.”

  “Oh, thank ye, Mrs. Darcy. The lass speaks of y’both often, and my mam has told me how kind you were to her.” The boy had a charmingly open and self-assured manner, with not a bit of arrogance. “If you e’er need a cat rescued from a tree, or a good bowler, I’m yer man.”

  Good lord this cannot be happening. He reminded Darcy so of a young Fitzwilliam, the same innate and open self-confidence. As children they had played together, fought like brothers, shared confidences. How many times had Fitz stood exactly that way, offering help whenever needed, like saving his sister Georgianna’s kitten from Fitz’s older brother’s cruelty. Fitz had been beaten by his brother for that, and then proudly showed off his black eye to all the girls.

  “Pardon me,” Darcy turned, the deft flick of a handkerchief wiping away a stray tear.

  “William.”

  “Hmm? Oh, sorry, Elizabeth. Afraid I caught something in my eye.”

  “I understand,” she smiled then turned back to their company. “Well, as I explained before it is unfortunate my husband and I are expected at my sister Jane’s house for dinner. Otherwise we could invite you to stay for tea.”

  “Of course, Mrs. Darcy, and please do forgive us for dropping in unannounced like this. If I could just ask – William, do y’have any further information about my brother? It’s merely that I’ve been that worried.”

  Lizzy’s heart went out to the man. He had been through so much over the years and was so brave. The girls had been gone only an hour and Matthew usually took them for treats after their excursions. Surely, there was time before he and the children returned for a brief word to him from her husband.

  Very brief.

  “At least have a seat, we’ll order tea. No, No, I insist. Afraid it will be a while yet before you are able to leave.”

  Lizzy’s voice dropped an octave. “William.”

  “Elizabeth. If you would kindly look outside, you’ll notice a storm is brewing. I am afraid we shall need to inform your sister we’ll be arriving late at the very least. Besides, when I arrived, I sent their cattle to our stables for food and shelter, and their driver is downstairs warming up. It will take an hour or so to reassemble them all again – so, we may as well have something to eat.”

  Elizabeth’s face paled, but she relented. What else could she do? “Of course. I shall send word to Jane.”

  “Now, where were we?” Truth be told Darcy wanted nothing more than to get to know this boy better. He rubbed his hands together. “We’ll ring for hot chocolate and tea straight away; and, in the meantime, I can give Alex the latest news of Jamie and Anne Marie.”

  Alex sighed with relief. “Thank ye so much, if it’s not too much trouble; I have been verra concerned. But please, tea is unnecessary, William. We dinnae want to be a bother.”

  “Nonsense, Alex. No bother at all. First, tell me, how long have you been in town?”

  “We arrived three days ago. When I learned of the Prince’s death I found it difficult to remain away any longer. Is it true he intervened with some communications two weeks before his passing? Can you tell us what’s happened?”

  “Well, as you know reaction here to America’s capture of the packet ship was utter outrage, and the obligatory ‘angry ultimatum’ was composed… but, never sent. It turns out that cable mysteriously became lost, then found its way to Windsor and provided the Prince, ill as he was, an opportunity to intervene, emphasizing diplomacy, not war, was the proper road to take. Well, all I can say is thank heaven for cooler minds. Mr. Lyons, the British Ambassador to America, relented, saying that all could be resolved with a simple apology to our government; and, I have been assured that very apology has been received at Whitehall. Hopefully, Jamie and Anne Marie will be home before the end of January.”

  “What a relief! Thank ye, William.”

  “It was no thanks to me, I assure you. I have also been informed Anne’s cousin – Lord Fitzwilliam’s son, Andrew – is seeing to it she and Jamie sail back aboard his ship, the Orontes, if possible, once the neutrality of the seas is reestablished. Hopefully, all this talk of war will die down very soon.”

  “You see, Alex.” Bridget reached for her husband’s hand. “Alex has been so worried I was fearful it would reverse all the fine progress he’s made.”

  “M’wife fusses over me too much.” He brought her hand to his lips for a quick kiss. “And I love her all the more for it.”

  “Indeed, where would any of us be without our wives’ practical concern?” Darcy reached for Lizzy’s hand but saw she was nervously staring at the clock on the mantel. Then it all became clear; her earlier words coming back to him. Matthew! Dear lord, Matthew was with the girls. Damn and blast. Perhaps the storm has slowed them down? He probably took them back to his home nearer the park. Yes, that’s probably what he would do… because if he arrived and saw this boy... Lizzy was right. He’d best hurry this visit along.

  “Would you like cook to wrap up some candies to take home, Ewan?”

  Tea was soon served however, and conversation flowed, initially centering upon the death of Prince Albert. The only event planned as yet was the memorial service to be held at St. Paul’s, and Darcy emphasized his hope that Alex and Bridget would join the rest of the family at the church. Then there was talk about how it would be such a sad Christmas this year, and the difficulty of raising children in modern society, and the cost of livestock feed, and the cold winter. Even Elizabeth became caught up in the conversation and began to relax. It seemed to her as if the storm outside had saved them, the silent deep snow protecting the streets from traffic hubbub and barking dogs and vendors’ calls. More like than not Matthew and the girls had found shelter somewhere else.

  Until…

  Suddenly there was a commotion that could be heard even through the closed doors of the parlor, the front doors slamming open by the storm followed by boisterous chatter and children’s laughter. There was a bang, a thud, and then squeals as something in the hallway crashed, followed by a deeper male voice demanding decorum even as the fellow himself laughed.

  Lizzy touched her husband’s arm as he turned to listen. Gradually he was able to make out the words more clearly, realizing too late to whom the male voice belonged. “Is that…?”

  Elizabeth nodded. “Would you all excuse me for a moment? No, please don’t stand, gentlemen; I won’t be but a moment.” Darcy watched Lizzy move hastily to the door while the laughter and squeals in the hall grew closer, louder. Then, just as she reached for the knob… the door burst open… and banged her in the forehead.

  Chapter 5

  “Grandmama! My word, how splendid you look.” Birdy engulfed Lizzy in a rib crushing hug. “What’s happened to your head?”

  “Girls, I wasn’t expecting you back so soon.” Relief washed over her that Matthew was nowhere to be seen. Evidently, he had just dropped them off and then left. Hopefully. Lizzy closed the door behind them. “Are you… alone?” Better safe than sorry.

  “Yes, Granny.”

  “Thank heavens.”

  Amanda kissed her cheek in greeting. “Whatever do you mean, Auntie Lizzy?”

  “I mean thank heavens you’re in from the cold, dear. Sorry your father had to leave however.”

  “You know my Papa, always working. He rushed off, I forget why.”

  “I think he may have needed to return home for dry clothes, Mandy. We did push a great deal of snow into his boots.”
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  “And down his collar.” Both girls giggled.

  “You two are scamps. Well, other than torturing your father I hope you enjoyed yourselves.”

  “Oh, yes. We had great fun.”

  “Roberta, Amanda, did you see your ‘friends’?” Lizzy knew the girls were madly in love with two or more of the boys who skated at the park.

  “No, more’s the pity. There was no one around to admire our skills – only park keepers breaking up ice near the edges of the lake for the swans, which was rather sweet, actually, but a bit noisy. Besides, the cold made us very hungry.” Roberta gave her grandmother a loud smacking kiss on the cheek. “Oops, was that your foot I just stepped on? It was, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes, darling; but, not to worry, I have another. And, where are your spectacles?”

  “Well… Grandmama, have you seen the snowfall? Green Park looks positively white.”

  “Answer my question, dear. Where are your spectacles?”

  “I, um, have no idea. Possibly lost or stolen. Possibly.”

  “Imagine my surprise that children’s spectacles are high priority for thieves. Now, don’t tell tales. Remember, I see and know everything.”

  “I’d forgotten that. Well, truthfully, Grandmama, I felt it unnecessary to wear them to the park since I only really use them for great distances. Or, not so great distances. Or for reading. Secondly, they make me look tres dowdy! And ‘C”, I really detest them. Ah! There is my favorite Grandpa. My, aren’t we looking handsome today – what’s this, you have visitors, and here I am chattering away.” Roberta squinted as she neared, then recognition took hold. “Auntie Bridget!” The gregarious whirlwind immediately launched herself into the arms of her beloved former nursemaid. “Auntie B, I thought you’d never come to London. But, this is merveilleux! Is Ewan with you? He is? Where? Oxie! There you are you little beastie, how absolutely merveilleux to see you!”