Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
M r Gardiner had not wanted Elizabeth to attend the party with Darcy, but in the end he had relented. He insisted on escorting her there and waiting with her in the carriage until Darcy and Lady Fulford arrived. Once at Lady Fortescue’s house, Elizabeth watched for signs of Darcy and Lady Fulford. The road was busy with carriages, full of men and women arriving for the event, dressed in elegant evening wear. Upon her marriage to Darcy, she would be part of this world; she told herself not to be intimidated by it. A tall, dark-haired man descended from a carriage, and a thrill rushed through her body, only to be swiftly doused. It was not Darcy. She had been looking forward to this evening, to seeing him again, all day. How much longer would she have to wait?
“You are to remain at all times with Lady Fulford. Never alone with Mr Darcy. Do not give that paper an excuse to write anything else about you,” Mr Gardiner said, interrupting her thoughts.
Embarrassed, she replied, “Whoever is behind these articles hardly waits for an excuse.”
“I was unsure about allowing you to attend this party, but your aunt convinced me it was better than you hiding away after the recent vile speculation. Be cautious, Lizzy, and keep your guard up around people you do not know.”
A carriage pulled up on the other side of the road; Elizabeth recognised it at once. She was glad for an end to the conversation “It is Lady Fulford’s.”
Mr Gardiner eyed her seriously. “Do not forget what I said. I shall see that you are safely across the road before I leave. I shall return in three hours. I do not care to travel across London any later.”
His brow was pinched with worry, and Elizabeth reached over to give him a grateful kiss on his cheek. “Thank you for allowing me to come.”
A footman assisted her from the carriage and, with the sensation of her uncle’s eyes upon her back, she crossed the road to greet her friend. Lady Fulford embraced Elizabeth and led her towards the entrance of the fine house.
“Where is Mr Darcy?” Elizabeth turned towards the Fulfords’ carriage and saw a male figure appear from the shadowy interior.
Lady Fulford squeezed Elizabeth's arm in an unmistakable warning. “He was unavoidably detained.”
Alarm shot through her, and when she heard a deep voice say, “Miss Bennet, we meet again.” The hairs on her arm prickled.
“Viscount Thorpe,” she said as her gaze hastily took in the road. The place where her uncle’s carriage had been was filled by another. It was too late. Somehow, she would have to endure the next three hours in the loathsome man’s company.
No sooner had Elizabeth entered the house than she regretted coming. Countless eyes followed her as she accompanied Lady Fulford and Lord Thorpe round the room. The viscount acknowledged few people and did nothing to conceal his boredom.
To Lady Fulford, he said, “There is nothing I dislike more than those who believe themselves to be part of a fashionable set.”
Lady Fulford replied coolly. “I am surprised that you asked to attend. One has to wonder what does please you, for I have heard that you frequent parties that are far less reputable.”
“‘Tis a different sort of pleasure, dear sister.” A mocking smile twisted his lips. “Just ask your husband.”
Unable to conceal her disgust at Lord Thorpe’s vulgarity, Elizabeth gave him a look of disdain.
“Do not look at me like that, beautiful Miss Bennet. Soon we shall be family, and you will become accustomed to our private jokes.” The viscount laughed.
“I highly doubt it,” Elizabeth murmured.
“That you will become familiar with our humour, or do you doubt that you will ever truly be considered part of our family?” A cruel light glinted in his eyes, and he walked away before she could reply.
“Ignore him,” Lady Fulford said. “He has always been spoilt and heartless. As a child, he used to pinch me to make me cry until I learnt to hide the pain.” A shadow crossed her face. “He tormented Dominic ruthlessly until Darcy intervened.”
At mention of Darcy’s name, Elizabeth asked, “Why is he not here?”
“The very moment before we were due to depart, my brother Richard received a letter from Darcy requesting his assistance. This came for you.” From her reticule, she drew a small note. She motioned to a door in a quieter corner of the room and continued. “I am well-acquainted with Lady Fortescue’s parties and therefore know that behind that door is a small, unused room. Read Darcy’s apology in peace while I find us some refreshments.”
In the dark room, Elizabeth sat near the window to take advantage of the light from the street. Quickly, she broke the seal and read the contents.
My dearest Elizabeth,
I beg your forgiveness for my absence. Only the most pressing of matters would prevent me from being at your side. I do not wish to commit more to paper, but I shall explain everything when I next see you, which I hope will be soon. My fear is that you will feel overlooked or abandoned by me, when, in reality, nothing could be further from the truth. Ours is a fragile understanding, but you must allow me to say that you are in my thoughts constantly, day and night, and I will always be your most humble servant.
Darcy
She wondered what could be so urgent to prevent him coming. Just then the door creaked, and two figures entered. Without thinking, Elizabeth pushed herself into the depths of the curtain’s heavy shadows, concealing herself from view. She heard the sound of a passionate embrace. Her mouth dry, Elizabeth contemplated putting her hands over her ears, but she dared not move in case it drew their notice. A man’s voice spoke and, with a jolt of recognition, she knew it was Lord Thorpe.
“You managed to enter undetected?”
A woman’s voice, low and alluring, replied. “Gaining entry to private places is an essential skill in my profession. You are not disappointed at my presence, I think. Leave with me now, and I promise you a better evening.”
“Anything would be preferable to this drivel. I cannot bear these tedious parties. I only came as I knew you would find a way to meet me here.”
The woman gave a mocking laugh. “Your sister and Miss Bennet will enjoy it, I am sure. It is the sort of frigid evening that virtuous young ladies take pleasure in.”
Lord Thorpe snorted. “Virtuous! There is nothing virtuous about that Bennet minx. She is no innocent, mark my words.”
“You believe her virtue to be compromised?” The woman sounded interested. “Is that why she is no longer staying with Lady Fulford?”
“She is staying with relations in Cheapside, but she will wheedle her way back into the bosom of my family before too long. A woman such as her can only be after Darcy’s money.”
Anger rose in Elizabeth's chest, but she had no choice but to remain silent.
“Why is Darcy not here tonight?” the woman asked.
“Heaven knows,” Lord Thorpe snapped irritably. “Now are you going to see to my pleasure like a good doxy, or shall I be required to make you?”
“You cannot make me do anything,” the woman said defiantly. She then gave a seductive laugh. “Not if you wish to see me again. My days of pleasuring men in darkened cloakrooms are over. A warm bed waits for us in Covent Garden if you can wait that long. Meet me by the servants’ entrance in five minutes. Old Fletcher is waiting with my carriage.”
Elizabeth heard footsteps, and a moment later, the woman was framed by the door. The light was just enough for her to take in the lady’s features. Her hair was raven black, her waist was small, and the cut of her dress low and sensual. Her manner was confident, expressive, and unapologetic. Elizabeth shrunk further into the windowsill, praying she would not be seen.
“I expect you to settle Fulford’s bill for his whoring,” the woman announced. “He says he has nothing left to pay the girls for their time.”
“One must excuse an insatiable appetite,” the viscount said.
“Not when my girls are going hungry. Pay the bill, or I shall have him returned to your sister.”
Lord Thorpe made a noise of disgust. “I know the price of being in your debt, my dear Mrs Wilder.”
The creak of the door signalled the woman’s departure. Heart pounding in her chest, Elizabeth listened to the viscount move about the room for a short while until he also went away. She remained where she was for a few minutes; she did not wish anyone to see her leave the same secluded place as Lord Thorpe or Mrs Wilder. She slipped carefully from the room, being sure to avoid being seen. She quickly found Lady Fulford and told her a few choice details of what she had overheard, deliberately omitting all references to Lord Fulford. Unfortunately, although neither of them wished to remain at the party, they had no choice; Mr Gardiner expected to find Elizabeth there, and there she would be. Several women approached to congratulate Elizabeth on her engagement, but her mind was so distracted, she hardly knew how to answer them. Trying her best to appear interested in their conversation, she privately counted down the long minutes until her uncle came for her at their agreed time.
After bidding Lady Fulford farewell, she joined her uncle in his carriage. Darcy, it transpired, had informed Mr Gardiner of his delay as well, for her uncle had received an apology shortly after he returned to Gracechurch Street. Elizabeth could see that her uncle was unhappy that Darcy had not accompanied her and, even though she was upset at his absence, she lied and said that she and Lady Fulford had enjoyed themselves, and she was sure Darcy had a very good reason for his absence.
In truth, the whole evening had been a disappointment from start to finish. Privately, Lady Fulford admitted that her husband had not yet returned home, which did not surprise Elizabeth after the conversation she had overheard. She pitied her friend. We place our trust in men as our protectors , but what can we do when they do not come to our aid? She recalled Mrs Wilder’s demands to Lord Thorpe, and she almost envied the woman for the autonomy she displayed. Yet, on reflection, she realised such women were just as much in the power of the men around them.
“What news do you have for me?”
Mr Andrews stepped into the study and took the chair Darcy indicated. “I have learnt that the man Mr Easton fought is called Mr Lamm. He appears to be a regular visitor to the establishment on Denzell Street.” He paused, his eyebrows raised. “However, Mr Lamm is illiterate. He cannot be the one behind the threats you have been receiving.”
“Who runs the bawdy-house?”
“A woman who goes by the name of Madam Hamilton. I have compiled a list of her associates for you to look at, as well as descriptions of anyone who has entered and exited the house over the past few days. You may peruse them to see if any are familiar to you.”
“But we still have no indication of who is trying to extort money from me,” Darcy said, disappointed. “Could we press Mr Lamm to reveal more about his involvement? Is there any chance that he would tell us who else is involved?”
Mr Andrews shook his head, “Shortly after the altercation with Mr Easton, he fell afoul of another man’s fist. Presently, he is lying in bed, insensible to the world around him.”
Darcy bit back a curse. His only consolation was that Fitzwilliam and Georgiana were on their way to Pemberley. It had been the only way he could think to keep her out of harm’s way. In Derbyshire, he might be able to keep her safe from scandal, protect her from name-calling and whispers. She is not strong enough to withstand it.
From his pocket, he removed the note that had been delivered to him yesterday and passed it to Mr Andrews.
“ Non serviam ?” The solicitor’s brow creased as he made the translation from Latin. “I will not serve? What do you think it means?”
“I suspect that whoever received the note will not settle for a smaller bribe.” He sighed. “I am tempted to pay the five hundred pounds originally demanded and be done with it.”
Mr Andrews shook his head. “If they know you will succumb, they will keep demanding more and more from you. You will never be rid of this threat until we discover who is behind it.”
“I do not know what else to do!” He slapped the desk in his frustration, and immediately apologised.
Mr Andrews raised his eyebrows, regarding Darcy with concern. “I think you should get some rest if you can. You look positively ill, if you will pardon the observation.”
Darcy nodded dully, ashamed that his weakness of mind was so apparent. “I would feel better if this scoundrel had been apprehended.” He took a deep breath, pressing his eyes closed for a moment. An image of Elizabeth came to mind. “I have another request. My endeavours to discover who is behind those horrible articles in the Morning Gazette have so far proved unsuccessful. I know you have your own means for finding information. I ask you to use every power at your disposal to make these articles stop.”
Mr Andrews stood and bowed. “Very well, Mr Darcy. I shall do everything possible.”
“I thank you and your associates for your hard work.” Darcy rang a bell for Mr Andrews to be shown out. “Next time we meet, I hope we both bear better tidings.”
An hour later, Darcy made his way to Gracechurch Street, once again unsure of his reception. Attending the party with Elizabeth would have been impossible, there had been too much to organise with Georgiana’s hastily arranged departure that morning—letters to write to his household in Derbyshire, arrangements for Fitzwilliam’s absence from his military duties, a brief note of explanation to Lord and Lady Matlock, and of course an apology to Mr Gardiner. Yet he knew that he had disappointed Elizabeth, and he felt the inadequacy of his actions acutely. He was shown into a pretty sitting room and found Mr and Mrs Gardiner and their children awaiting his arrival. Elizabeth was absent, but Mrs Gardiner instructed a servant to ask her to come down.
Mr Gardiner, his demeanour serious, gestured for Darcy to sit.
“I trust you are well and that your urgent business was settled last night. I shared Lizzy’s regret when I learnt you were unable to accompany her.” A steely inflection of disapproval could be heard in his remarks.
Before Darcy could respond—not that he knew what to say—young Ernest was standing beside him and saying, “Are you the man who is going to marry Lizzy?”
“Hush,” Mrs Gardiner scolded. “Remember your manners.”
“Is it true you are very rich?” A little girl, not much older than Ernest, regarded Darcy with the same fascination one might give an ancient relic.
“Do you have a big house and lots of horses?” another child called.
“Enough!” Mr Gardiner warned. “Mr Darcy did not come to be interrogated. I shall call for the nurse.”
The children groaned in unison, and Darcy fought the urge to laugh, quickly reassuring Mr and Mrs Gardiner that he did not mind the questions in the least.
“I have a house in Derbyshire, and yes, I would say it is large and that I have many horses,” he explained.
“Does it have a ballroom?” the eldest girl enquired.
“It does, and plenty of room for all of you when you come to stay,” Darcy said.
The children’s questions became more insistent and persisted until a movement by the door caught his eye. It was Elizabeth, a tender expression in her eyes as she watched him with her cousins. His heart lurched as he drank in her lovely presence.
“Mr Darcy,” she curtseyed, and Darcy’s neck felt suddenly hot. He wished he did not have quite so many pairs of eyes on him.
He greeted her and said, “I came hoping that your aunt and uncle would permit me to take you on another stroll in the park.”
Elizabeth glanced at her aunt, who gave a slight nod, said, “I shall retrieve my bonnet and cloak.”
Mr Gardiner gave Darcy a pointed look, before saying firmly, “A wise idea, Lizzy. However, the weather has turned. I must insist it is only a short walk today.”