Caroline’s breath came in soft gasps, her eyes glued on Alexander. “Pleased to, to meet you,” she stammered.
Francesca smiled into Alexander’s sapphire eyes, “You will go with Nurse, darling, and mummy will come after your nap for a walk in the park. Would you like that?”
Alexander reached up and twirled a stray curl framing his mother’s face. Francesca’s expression softened to pure love, stripped of artifice and infused with honesty; she was more beautiful than ever. She tapped Alexander’s nose, “Off with you, you little imp. Mummy must tend to her guest, love.” She hugged Alexander and then gave him into the hand of Nurse.
Back at Darcy house, Darcy sat smiling with his eyes closed, and his hands steepled. It looked as if he were reliving something exquisite. Again, Richard watched him stealthily from the door of Darcy’s study and chuckled. Darcy glanced up.
“Cousin! I was not expecting you,” Darcy said.
“No? So, that sublime expression was not from the thought of seeing me?” Richard smirked as he closed the door. Darcy folded his arms, shook his head, and waited for Richard to conclude his teasing.
“No? Not for me, then? Well, perhaps it was for the lovely Miss Bennet?” Richard wagged his brows.
Darcy covered his smile with his hand and raised a brow at Richard.
Richard chuckled, “Oh, ho, so how are things with the lovely Miss Bennet?” Richard smirked as he watched Darcy attempt to modulate his joy – but fail miserably. “That good, eh?”
Darcy shook his head and smiled, “Get on with it, Richard. Do you have news?”
“Ah, so we shall leave the lovely Miss Bennet? Very well,” Richard dropped his smile, instantly serious. “I do have some news, but not from Marshals, from Father,” Richard shifted in his chair and cleared his throat. “Uh, well. They are not to return as soon as expected.”
“Has Hardston suffered a setback?”
“No, well nothing of a serious nature. However, they have discovered that his best mate, his brother in debauchery, is in the area and has attempted to reach him. Father does not yet feel comfortable with Hardston’s progress to trust him in his mate’s presence.”
“Indeed.” Darcy drummed his fingers on the armchair. He dreaded having to leave Elizabeth to seek the necessary information, but he did not know if he could endure much more delay. “until I can travel, I will add another man to the two I have already sent to assist Marshals.”
“Perhaps that will not be necessary,” Richard said, and Darcy glanced up.
Richard shifted again in his chair, “I have informed Father of your situation.” Richard raised his hand to ward off Darcy’s objections. “I know it was not my right, but I could not get rid of the suspicion that father may know something.”
“What do you mean?”
Richard shifted forward. “Do you remember when Father was informed of Francesca’s presence at Pemberley? He was frantic to reach you. At first, I thought he just did not want you to be taken in by a fortune hunter, but there was something more urgent. He wanted to depart at night, but Mother restrained him,” Richard shook his head. “Now I am certain I am right about her, for when I informed Father of your situation, I did not mention her name, but Father responded with an express demanding we attend him immediately.”
“He did? What did he say?”
“Here, read it for yourself.”
Son,
I was alarmed to read your letter. Though you were cryptic, I know without a doubt of whom you speak. I sent her and her companion fleeing once, and she has returned with her scheming. I know not of the certainty of what she suggests, though I certainly hope it is not so. However, there is information that Darcy must know before he does anything drastic. Bring him post haste! Do not delay, Son.
Your Father
Darcy reread the note, searching for answers it did not contain. Laying the note upon his desk, he sat back in his chair, “When can you leave?”
“I have already put in for leave and can be ready Tuesday.” Darcy nodded. He would hear his uncle, and then he would act.
It cannot be! Caroline screamed, her eyes following the sapphire-eyed boy who looked remarkably like her Mr. Darcy as he ran to his Nurse. It must not be! How is it possible? Caroline scowled as she pulled her attention from the boy’s retreating form back to Francesca.
“Shall you like me to refresh your tea?” Francesca looked at Caroline with wide, innocent eyes.
“What? How…” Caroline’s voice trailed away, and she shook her head as if in a daze.
Francesca pursed her lips to keep from smirking. “Oh, dear,” she laughed softly. “You noticed. Of course, you noticed being so intimately acquainted as you say,” Francesca sipped her tea. “Did I not tell you that we were great friends?”
“So, so, so you are his, his mistress?” Caroline swallowed the panic that threatened to choke her.
“No, no! Is that what you think?” Francesca chuckled and waved her hand. “No, well, not now. We are only great friends, now, nothing more. You have nothing to worry about from me there. I never return to where I once grazed, darling. No exceptions, not even for someone as magnificent as he. However, it should be no wonder that he is dutiful to his responsibilities, should it?” She raised her brows in silent appeal. “We have an arrangement, now, financial, darling, nothing more. No, dearest, gone are my days of being a kept woman,” she smiled.
Caroline drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly, a little calmer now, though still mute as if the shock had stolen her voice. So, Darcy has a son, and Francesca is the mother, Caroline surmised, even though Francesca had not explicitly stated it, it was the only conclusion to be drawn considering the boy’s looks and their prior relationship. But the relationship was now financial only? Caroline flicked cold eyes at Francesca, her gaze traveling down Francesca’s beautiful, seductive, flawless person. “Hmm,” Caroline said, and curled her lip into a pseudo smile.
“Miss Bingley, I know we have only recently met. However, I could hear your regard for Fitzwilliam, and to tell you the truth, I approve.” Caroline narrowed her eyes and assessed Francesca.
Francesca gave a tight-lipped smile, that conveyed sympathy and understanding, “I see you are suspicious, but I am truthful when I say that Fitzwilliam and I did not suit and now are only friends. He, of course, cares for his responsibilities. And to be frank, I would like to keep it that way,” she looked at Caroline pointedly with one eyebrow raised.
Caroline frowned, not understanding the covert message. Francesca sighed, “Should Fitzwilliam take a wife, say an unsophisticated country girl, she may interfere with our very generous arrangement. Therefore, I have an interest in the next Mrs. Darcy. I wish him to choose a confident, sophisticated woman who is not threatened by his past. Now, are we clear?”
Caroline uttered not a word. An unsophisticated country girl? Eliza Bennet! Caroline’s eyes flashed toward Francesca. The two women regarded one another for a long moment. So, you want to get rid of Eliza, and you want my assistance. Caroline’s face slowly spread into a smile as she continued to regard Francesca intently. Very well, I will get rid of Eliza, and Fitzwilliam will never marry you. And when I am the next Mrs. Darcy, I shall be ten times more difficult than the impertinent chit could ever be.
“Yes, we are very clear.” The ladies smiled and continued to regard one another, each with an inner smirk of satisfaction.
Darcy sat in his study attempting to focus on something other than Elizabeth.
His butler entered. “A letter for you, sir.”
“Thank you, Johns.”
Darcy looked at the feminine script, pinched the bridge of his nose, and winced. He tapped the letter upon his desk and looked out the window. “What does she want now?” Darcy asked aloud, then sighed. She had every right to contact him. She did not create the situation alone. Straightening his shoulders, Darcy opened the missive.
Dearest Fitzwilliam,
I shall b
e discreet darling, but a certain someone has not stopped asking for you since you visited. This kind of attentiveness is highly unusual for him. I daresay he may sense a primal connection? Or perhaps he was just charmed by your manners, as I have always found them irresistible. But forgive me, darling, for speculating, and I digress. I would consider it a supreme courtesy if you would condescend to visit us again. I must speak with you concerning a pressing matter. Perhaps today at noon? There will be no impediment to your visit, I assure you.
No need to reply. We will anticipate your arrival with pleasure.
Yours,
F.W.
Darcy rubbed the back of his neck, rose from his desk, and stood at the window with his hands gripping the frame. Darcy knew that Bingley would return soon, and when he did, the hounds would circle again. Saye, with no scandal to avoid, was already eager to renew his acquaintance with Elizabeth. Darcy ran his hands through his hair. He felt it would be dishonorable to secure Elizabeth’s hand before he knew the truth. And when she did know, what would she think? Of course, she would understand his need to care for his son, but as a gently-born woman, would she understand Alexander’s existence or despise him for his weakness? I must tell her; I will tell her. But tell her what and when?
Darcy paced. Perhaps Richard is correct, and Alexander is not mine. No, no, that is impossible. The birthdate, the eyes, the chin, the dimples, all of it. He is mine. Darcy stopped and gripped his desk. But what news does Uncle impart? Darcy shook his head, frustrated at the strange feeling of being out of control. I will go to Uncle’s, and then I will confess all and beg Elizabeth to have me. That settled, Darcy straightened his jacket and called for his horse. He would see Francesca and warn her not to call at his house in his absence. And he would see his son again.
Caroline waited in the rented carriage a few houses down from Darcy house. She smirked. If all went as planned, she would finally be rid of Eliza Bennet forever! That country chit would be too stupid to appreciate a man with a child and perhaps a mistress. No, she would always want his doe-eyed devotion, and she would give up the riches of Pemberley, and the prestige of being Mrs. Darcy, for something as trivial as fidelity. Caroline rolled her eyes in disgust and then smiled as she saw Mr. Darcy, seated high on his horse, galloping away. Right on time. Now, little Eliza, you shall get what you deserve. Caroline tapped the roof of the carriage, and as the carriage rocked forward, Caroline smoothed her dress and prepared herself for battle.
Elizabeth walked to the Darcy garden, beckoned by those exquisite, revelatory tulips. She wished she was back in Hertfordshire for just a moment. She wanted to run at full speed through the fields until her lungs burned! She wanted to sing as loud as she could! Glory be Mr. Darcy was magnificent! The way his eyes had caressed her throughout the night, his attention to her person, the enticing half smile, she was too nervous to speculate on precisely what Darcy felt, but she knew he felt something for her – and it was overwhelming. Elizabeth plopped down on the bench and stared without seeing. She felt so alive when she was near him. Every nerve in her body answered his call. Was she ready for this? She felt both shy and excited, on the precipice of the unknown; she knew that if she did not halt the progress now, there would be no coming back from the fall. A few moments earlier, she had seen Mr. Darcy mount his horse and canter away, directing a nod and lingering smile in her direction. She had beamed back at him and forced her feet not to run after him until he was out of sight. How is it that I am now prone to behave like Lydia? She shook her head and laughed. No, not like Lydia. Well not exactly like Lydia, but it is true that I no longer feel in control. I think I am in some danger. She sighed and stared at those beautifully opened tulips.
“Miss Bennet. Miss Bingley to see you, ma’am.”
Elizabeth’s eyes widened, “Did she ask for Georgiana, as well?
“No, ma’am.”
“Thank you, Johns. I shall be there directly. Please have Cook send tea.”
“As you wish, ma’am.”
Elizabeth sat still a little while longer, savoring her last moments of tranquility. Sighing, she rose, “This should be diverting.”
In the drawing room Elizabeth greeted Caroline with a smile. “Caroline, how kind of you to call.”
Caroline rose and smiled brightly, “Eliza, it has been too long, has it not?”
Elizabeth busied herself with tea rather than answer. “How are Louisa and Hurst? I am certain you have been enjoying your stay with your sister.”
“Louisa has grown so dull, nearly as dull as Hurst, who lives only to eat, sleep and play cards,” Caroline wrinkled her nose. “But that brings me to why I have called,” Caroline said with a pasted smile. “I have grown very bored since dear Jane and my brother have gone. I simply cannot listen to Hurst snore in the drawing room one more day while Louisa complains,” Caroline scooted to the edge of her chair and leaned near Elizabeth, “especially with this beautiful spring day beckoning me. I so wanted to take in the fresh air, but Louisa would not be moved from Hurst’s side. However, I could not allow such a wonderful day to waste. Of course, it is not proper for a well-bred lady such as I to walk alone. And suddenly, I thought that dear Eliza would be perfect to take the air with today.”
“You desire to walk, Caroline? In London? With me?”
“I could think of no other. You simply must say you will. I am sure to be driven to Bedlam due to boredom if I spend one more morning cooped up with the Hursts or in some stuffy old drawing room.”
Caroline reclined in her chair and watched. Elizabeth assessed Caroline with one eyebrow raised. “Hmm,” she said.
“Please say you will, Elizabeth. Upon my word, we shall not walk far, and I have a footman with me. I simply want to take in the sunshine. I find there is so much I must think on of late, and I want to, how do you say it, ‘clear my face?’”
Elizabeth nearly laughed. “I have found walking very beneficial in ‘clearing my head,” Elizabeth corrected her. “If you desire to do so, then yes, I will accompany you.”
Caroline beamed. “We shall have a time, Eliza. You shall see.”
“Thank you, Fitzwilliam, for agreeing to accompany us to this little park,” Francesca smiled at Darcy and squeezed the arm she held. “Alexander can be quite a hand full when he has not been given time to expend his energy, and with Nurse being sick, well, it is a blessing you agreed to accompany us.”
“Not at all,” Darcy clipped, staring straight ahead where the boy had run in front of them.
“He just adores the out of doors, and of course, I am not a fit playmate for a boy,” she laughed. “Look,” she pointed, “there is an ideal spot where he may run and play, and there is even a bench where we can rest and watch.”
Darcy scanned the area. It was a little-used park, not populated by the ton, so it was unlikely he would meet any of his acquaintance, but Darcy wanted to be cautious. He rubbed the back of his neck and wondered again at the wisdom of being seen in public with Francesca and Alexander. But the boy had been so excited about playing in the park that he could not deny him.
Francesca sat down and looked up expectantly at Darcy. “Sit, Fitzwilliam,” she patted the space beside her, “we must continue our discussion about Alexander’s future.” Darcy looked around. “This place is practically deserted,” Francesca assured him. “No one comes here at this time of day. And besides we need not mention names, but it is important that we speak. Unless you would prefer to continue our conversation over dinner?”
“No, no,” Darcy said and slowly sat on the bench. It was too small. Francesca’s shawl had slipped, and her low-cut gown revealed far too much of her bosom. She also wore that fragrance that reminded him of the past. Darcy sat as far on the edge of the bench as he could without tumbling onto the grass.
“As I was saying,” he cleared his throat, “there are ways that the boy can be cared for, given a gentlemen’s education, and a generous inheritance. Of course, that would also come with an allowan
ce for the boy’s, ah, mother.”
Francesca smiled at Darcy’s attempt at code even when no one was near to hear. “Indeed. I know you will do what is honorable, Fitzwilliam. I am only saddened that Alexander will not grow up under the superior tutelage of his father. Money and education cannot supplant the love and guidance of such an excellent man,” she exhaled slowly and dropped her shoulders.
Darcy leaned forward with his elbows upon his knees and his gaze severe. He looked at Alexander. He looked so much like him, there could be no doubt. That meant Alexander was his son, his firstborn. Francesca had hit the crux of the matter, and he could not rid himself of the guilt. He watched Alexander stumbling over his ball and laughing. A small smile replaced the scowl as Alexander kicked the ball as hard as he could, right into Darcy’s legs.
Darcy laughed and kicked the ball back. He watched Alexander’s little legs run and retrieve the ball and kick it again. Darcy stopped the ball with his foot and smiled.
“Kick ba! Kick ba!” Alexander jumped up and down.
Darcy smiled at his antics. “Are you ready?”
“Kick ba!” Darcy kicked the ball just beyond and Alexander stumbled after it. Nearly each time Alexander ran for the ball, he fell, his legs and balance unequal to the slightly uneven terrain. This time when Alexander retrieved the ball, he forgot to kick it. He ran with the ball and handed it smiling to Darcy. Darcy smiled and picked up the boy with the ball. Just then, Francesca leaned forward laughing, with her bosom nearly spilling from her low décolletage, and placed one hand on Darcy’s back, “He is such a delightful boy, is he not?” She smiled into Darcy’s face.
Men of Consequence Page 26
