“Mrs. Waters, Hayden cannot have traveled here and to your daughter in this amount of time. Wait until we have apprehended him, and if he has gone to Creston Hill first and has secreted your daughter away, we will force him to tell us where,” Darcy spoke in a clipped voice. Francesca watched him with her eyes riveted and her mouth gaped. It was the first time he had spoken to her since her confession. The subsequent inquiries into Hayden’s behavior had been conducted by either Lord Matlock or Richard. She sighed; her heart lightened concerning Cassandra and because Darcy had spoken to her. He would keep his word. Her daughter would be well. Her appetite returned, and though uncomfortable dining with the family, she tucked into her food.
“Pardon me, ma’am,” the butler appeared, “an express has arrived for Mr. Darcy.”
Darcy reached for the missive. “It is from Georgiana. Excuse me.” Darcy hurried toward the library and ripped it open as he sat.
Dearest Brother,
They are everywhere! Like flies! Well, perhaps not like flies, that was unkind, but I do not know how long I can hold them at bay! One as handsome as the other! Both charming but in different ways.
“Of what are you speaking?” Darcy wrinkled his brow and fumbled with the page.
You must return, Brother, as quickly as possible. It is a good thing I am here since you cannot be, for I have thwarted them as much as possible. I want to swat them like the flies they remind me of, but Elizabeth will have none of it. But I fear you are in danger, Brother.
“What?” Darcy’s breathing quickened as his eyes frantically searched the page.
Both men have been most attentive, and one calls as often as he can. They make her laugh and kiss her hand and walk out with her! It is most bothersome! Brother, why are you not here? She is the only sister I want! And you too, Brother, though you have not said, you cannot want another.
Darcy gasped, his brows in a deep crease.
And why does Elizabeth think you have an understanding with Mrs. Waters? I know it cannot be true, but she is convinced and has been most melancholy.
Darcy leapt from his seat. The chair crashed behind him as it hit the hardwood floor.
Hurry home, Brother. Hurry!
G.
Oh, by the way, I am staying with Elizabeth at the Bingley’s. Mr. and Mrs. Bingley returned on Thursday, and Mrs. Annesley had to go to her ill sister. Hurry home, Brother.
Darcy raced down the corridor, a vase on the side table rattling from his heavy tread. He burst into the room; the silverware clanged as he slammed the letter onto the table.
“What have you done?” He asked, his nostrils flaring, and his eyes tightening.
Francesca looked up with creased brow, “Fitzwilliam, I beg your pardon?”
“I have just received a letter from Georgiana. What have you said to Elizabeth?” Darcy asked as he leaned over the table. Francesca shrank back into her seat, turned her head, and closed her eyes.
“Tell me!” Darcy shouted.
“Fitzwilliam!” Lady Matlock laid a hand on his arm. “What is the matter?” Darcy breathed harshly, and his angry eyes never left Francesca’s face.
“Cousin! What the dickens is the matter?” Richard asked as he and Hardston came to Darcy’s side. Richard removed the letter from the table and read it with Hardston over his shoulder.
“Tell me what you did,” Darcy’s voice was icy.
Francesca turned regretful eyes upon Darcy and then looked down again. “I am so very sorry, Fitzwilliam.”
Darcy straightened up and ran his hand over his face. “Hang your apologies! Tell me what you have done!”
Francesca reached behind her neck and unclasped the gold chain and pulled it free to reveal the signet ring that had been hidden in her décolletage.”
Darcy’s eyes widened, and he grabbed the ring. “Where did you get this?” he exploded.
“I found it in Hayden’s belongings.”
Richard took the chain with the ring that Darcy loosely held in his hand, and the other occupants viewed it before looking at one another wide-eyed.
“What did you do with it?” Darcy stood with legs planted wide and arms folded across his chest. He did not raise his voice, but Francesca thought he had never looked more intimidating.
She swallowed and whispered, “I used it to seal a fake letter – in Elizabeth’s presence.”
Darcy gasped, and his chest expanded with air. He stood wide-eyed as they watched him. Then suddenly, he turned on his heels and raced for the stairs. Richard, Hardston, and Lady Sarah ran after him.
“Darcy! What are you about, man?” Richard bellowed as Darcy continued to stride quickly down the corridor.
“I am leaving for town.”
“What?” Richard ran to stand before him, halting his stride, “You cannot be serious!”
“I am perfectly serious, now move, Cousin.”
“Darcy, think, man! The same ambush that we cautioned Mrs. Waters about is surely waiting for you, too! I know you are concerned about Miss Bennet, but you cannot just leave! We are speaking of your life, man!”
“She is my life! Now shove off!”
“Then think! What good are you to her dead?” Richard asked and grunted as Darcy reached to push him aside. “Besides, Miss Bennet is no fool. She will wait for you.”
“How can you say that!” Darcy stopped, his voice rising a pitch. “Did you not read the letter? Elizabeth has two suitors; they are men of character and consequence, and I have made no declaration to her! I was foolishly waiting to resolve what I now know was a lie! And do you not remember the last thing Elizabeth saw? Francesca,” Darcy spat her name, “contrived to have Elizabeth see us together in the park with Alexander, the picture of a happy family! And now sealing with the Darcy signet ring! Elizabeth can have reached only one conclusion!” Darcy wanted to run, but he had Richard before him and the others behind him, so he ran his fingers through his hair and took a few deep breaths.
Everyone was silent. Even Hardston had nothing to say.
“Fitzwilliam,” Francesca who had stood at the end of the corridor came forward with halting steps, her hands crossed like a prayer upon her chest. Darcy stilled but refused to turn to face her. “Fitzwilliam, please, allow me to make amends.”
“Have you not done enough, madam?” Darcy turned furiously toward her. “You have acted despicably! Pawning another man’s son as my own! You have taken advantage of any kindness I have shown. You would have taken away my choices and destroyed my future to gain access to my purse! You and your lies may have cost me the only woman I have ever wanted! How? How could you ever make amends for that?”
It was the first time he had given full range to his anger, and Francesca dropped her head and closed her eyes. As he turned to walk away, she reached for his arm, only to snatch her hand back as if it had been caught in a blacksmith’s forge when she encountered the look in his eyes.
“I know you cannot write to her, but I could. I could confess to her in a letter,” she said softly.
Darcy paused, then laughed. “Are you mad? Do you really think I would trust you to write the truth to Elizabeth?” Darcy shook his head and turned to leave.
“Fitzwilliam! Stop, please!” Lady Sarah called. Darcy halted and ran his hand down his face and turned to his Aunt.
“Mrs. Waters makes a good point.” Darcy’s eyes widened, and Lady Sarah raised her hand in protest. “Hear me out, my boy. Let Mrs. Waters write the letter. I will read it and make certain it contains the truth. You should read it as well. I will seal it and send it express. An express will reach your Miss Bennet as soon as you can, perhaps sooner, and will ensure your life is not jeopardized.”
“Besides, Darcy,” Hardston interjected, “you cannot abscond and leave us in danger, having to capture alone the man set upon killing you.”
“Hardston!” Both Lady Sarah and Richard yelled simultaneously.
“What!” Hardston shrugged and threw up his hands. “I mean no
disrespect. Darcy knows I speak that truth. He is a man of honor and will reach the same conclusion when he is once again thinking with his head, rather than his…” Four heads whipped around to glare at Hardston who smirked and continued, “heart. I am just helping him along,” Hardston shrugged again.
Darcy leaned against the wall and blew out a harsh breath. Hardston was right. How foolish of him, he could not, would not leave them to deal with his problems. With arms folded across his chest, he glanced from his aunt to Francesca, the latter causing his expression to harden into disgust. Lady Sarah faced him, grabbed his arms, and forced his eyes to her. “I will make certain that no other letter from Mrs. Waters is sent without my perusal. She will not have the opportunity to send another letter of lies to cancel the one of truth she will send. Come Fitzwilliam, it is the only way.”
Darcy sighed and nodded sharply, then turned and walked down the corridor toward his room, “I will read it before it is sent.”
“Of course,” Lady Sarah answered. When Darcy turned the corner, all the occupants in the hall let out a sigh.
“Whew!” Hardston whistled. This time no one censured him.
Out in the hot sun, Hayden gritted his teeth. He had ridden for three days, and every bone in his body ached. At the sight of the local inn, The Star and Crown, Hayden’s muscles felt as if they had liquified as he suddenly sagged in relief. He groaned and cursed Darcy as he dismounted. I should have killed you when I hit you with that rock long ago. He had ridden through heat and rain and hunger and thirst, and he was angrier now than when he began.
He secured a room, took his seat in the common area, and ordered his meal. With his arms folded and a grimace on his face, he scanned the room. It was crowded, loud, and smelled of ale, stew, and unwashed bodies. A group of men with tattered and stained clothing sang bawdy songs into their pints and laughed rambunctiously. A couple of men, cleaner and quieter, tradesmen Hayden deduced, shared a conversation in the far corner. Hayden ate his stew and drank his ale, then joined the quieter group.
“Evening, gentlemen.”
“Evenin’, but no gentlemen ‘ere,” a tall, broad-shouldered and tanned man answered. “Take a load off,” he said, and Hayden sat.
“John Smith and Edward King, at your service.”
“You not from round ‘ere, eh?” King asked.
“No, just here on business.” They talked, and Hayden strained to hear useful information as the men spoke of local life. A few drinks later, his eyes drooping from weariness, Hayden was ready to retire when he heard the opening he desired.
“Butcher is happy Lord Matlock stayed in the county. I might have to invite the old butcher to a game and divest him of all that money he has made from Matlock!” Smith said. Hayden sat up straight, his sapphire blue eyes locked upon the men as they laughed.
“Blacksmith says he has guests now. Fixed a shoe for that fancy nephew of his, Darcy. That Darcy fellow, I dun know,” the second man, lean and wiry, shook his head, “Smithy says he be a real proper gentleman. I never met him but seen him from a distance on that horse of his. The way he rips across them fields on that horse, makes me wonder. Fine horse flesh too, but I never seen a gentleman ride like ‘im.” King spoke.
Hayden slumped back in his chair and said lazily, “A gentleman good in the saddle? That be like watching a dog walk on its hind legs, ‘eh?”
“You got the right of it!” The men clinked their glasses together and laughed, “dandies, the lot of ‘em.”
“Right. Rarely see them out of their fine carriages. Say, I dun mind seein’ that fellow, what did you say his name was?” Hayden said, trying to mimic King’s speech to help them forget that he was an outsider.
“Darcy.”
“Right. I liked to see that gentleman ride such a fine horse with the skill you say, but he probably only rides in a huntin’ party.”
“No, he is right religious about ridin’. Every day the weather allows that one, same path, same time. Well, not Sunday, of course. Rides ‘ard, then holds up in the old huntin’ cottage, give ‘is horse a rest,” King answered.
“Like to see for myself,” Hayden answered.
“Well, tis Matlock lands,” King said hesitantly as he eyed Hayden who had smoothed his expression into good-natured interest. King shrugged, “I guess it be no ‘arm if you just look.”
Hayden’s smile widened. As soon as he extracted the time and path, he stood abruptly and left. Smith and King looked at one another, shrugged, and returned to their ale.
Later that day, Lady Matlock found Darcy in the drawing room. “The express has been sent, Fitzwilliam,” she said,
Darcy turned from the window and nodded to her. “Thank you, Aunt Sarah.”
Lady Matlock eyed Darcy. His mouth was in a grim line, his shoulders tense, and circles were forming beneath his eyes. Sighing, she spoke softly, “Come, Fitzwilliam, sit with me and tell me about your lady.”
Darcy eyed her warily, and Lady Matlock smiled. “You must know that after the fervent display, being willing to sacrifice your life for fear of losing her, you must know that I would need to hear of her. She must be extraordinary to engender such a response.” Darcy stood still eyeing his aunt who smiled softly at him, then his shoulders slumped, and he dropped into the chair accepting the glass she offered.
Taking a long sip, he paused and watched the liquid swirl. With his head down, he spoke. “Elizabeth shines from within. She is beautiful to be sure. She takes my breath away, but it was not at first her beauty that drew me. If beauty alone had been enough, I would have been caught in my first season. As beautiful as Elizabeth is without, she is a treasure trove within. She is bright and curious. She is a great reader, though she claims she is not,” Darcy smiled fondly. “She fills her mind with interesting, pertinent things, and thus, her conversation is stimulating. One might consider her a bluestocking; except she is also filled with an equal amount of joie de vivre. She is amusing and full of wonder and adventure, teasing and impertinence, but never cruel. Although she did not like me at first.” Lady Sarah’s brows raised. “I insulted her when I first met her, but she is kind, so kind, even when offended, and she is tender, loyal, and loving. She walked three miles in the mud to care for her sister….” Darcy’s face was awash with wonder as he unburdened himself of this frightening, beautiful love he carried for Elizabeth
Sarah Fitzwilliam listened, sometimes smiling, sometimes laughing, sometimes shocked, but always intrigued. She watched her nephew’s face soften – the love he felt erasing all the lines of strain from his countenance. When he finished, he sat still, the smile still lingering upon his face. Lady Matlock sighed; it was hopeless. For better or worse, Elizabeth would be her niece, to oppose it would mean to lose Darcy and by extension, Georgiana. She was unwilling to lose either. Besides, though not rich, Elizabeth was a gentleman’s daughter and seemed delightful. Goodness knows, riches did not endow one with a halo! Look at the mess they were now in.
“Fitzwilliam,” Darcy looked at her, and she smiled. “She seems delightful. I look forward to making her acquaintance.”
“She is delightful, everything I have ever desired. I want to give her the world just to see her smile,” Fitzwilliam sat gazing at his aunt, his smile now full of joy and dimples.
Lady Matlock sighed and shook her head. “You are ridiculously handsome, Nephew.” Darcy blushed. “Your lady is no fool. Even though you did not declare yourself, I am certain you did not completely hide your regard,” Darcy looked quickly away. Sarah chuckled and rose, and Darcy rose with her. “She will wait, Fitzwilliam. And when you have captured her, I will make certain she is embraced by the ton.”
Darcy regarded his aunt, and a slow smile spread across his face. Then he did something he had not done since he was a lad, he gathered her into his arms and laid his head upon hers. “Thank you, Aunt Sarah.”
“My pleasure, my boy.”
“Unhand my wife, young man, or it shall be pistols at dawn!
” Matlock bellowed from the doorway.
Darcy kissed his aunt on the head, released her, and bowed mockingly toward Matlock, “Uncle, Good Morning.”
“Humph!” Matlock pretended offense as Darcy walked out of the room. Matlock smiled at his wife, “What was that about?”
Sarah blinked tears from her eyes. “Come, Husband, you have missed quite a morning.”
The next day just before dawn, Hayden cantered toward his destination. Having scouted the path the day before, he rode confidently; his plan fresh in his mind. He would arrive at the cottage and hide. When Darcy appeared, he would ambush him. Hayden had not decided whether he would kill Darcy immediately, or toy with him, like a cat with a mouse. He leaned toward toying with him. Hayden smirked as he thought of the revenge he could exact with Darcy incapacitated. He was glad that Darcy rode alone, it saved him the expense of hiring local muscle. Confident that he could handle a gentleman dandy by himself, Hayden nearly pulsated with the thought that he would take down his brother, that his hands would strike the blow. With the rage he felt at his father for his rejection and at his brother for stealing what belonged to him, he leaned forward, pressed his heels into the horse’s flank, and galloped over the cleared field.
A distance from the cottage, Hayden dismounted in a cluster of trees and tied his horse. He then checked for his sword, dagger, pistol, and rope and walked the distance to the cottage. It was easy to find you, Brother, he scoffed. The fastidious, master of Pemberley and your routines. I have heard about you and your habits. Stupid, spoiled, pampered milksop, THIEF! You are about to get what has been coming to you. The cottage in sight, Hayden paused and looked about. Seeing no one, he sprinted the last distance to the door.
As the sun rose over the horizon, Hayden quietly entered the cabin. He looked around, with the curtains pulled, it was still dark, but Hayden could make out the fireplace, table and a few chairs in the main room. He turned to the window and moved the curtain a pinch for a clear view. Knowing that he would likely have a significant amount of time to wait since King had indicated that Darcy rode about nine, Hayden dropped his rope and pulled a chair up to the window. Pampered milksop, of course, Darcy would not awake early, just like all the other spoiled gentlemen. Hayden mentally reviewed his plan, then frowned, an image of his father with a sorrowful expression came to mind, and with it, Hayden closed his eyes and gripped the wall. No, Hayden shook off the temporary doubts, the Darcys never cared about him. Hayden breathed deeply; he would stick to the plan. Hayden had decided to toy with Darcy. If Darcy entered the cottage, he would ambush him, stab and incapacitate him. If he did not enter the cabin, he would shoot him from the window, but only wound him. Either way, he would toy with Darcy and make him regret stealing his place. Hayden rubbed his hands over his face and peered out the window.
Men of Consequence Page 35
