Chapter Fourteen #2
“That is hardly surprising. We met but once, some months past. I am Mrs Elizabeth Fiennes.” She curtsied, swaying slightly as she sought her balance. He clasped her arm once more, releasing her only when he was sure of her footing.
“Steady on, madam. It seems Hyde Park proves more perilous than one might expect.”
A reluctant smile touched her lips. “Perhaps it was my own fault for letting my thoughts wander.”
“Then I shall count myself fortunate they wandered my way.”
“Are you teasing me, sir?” Her cheeks flushed.
“Perhaps a little.” For an instant, a shadow of warmth crossed his features before propriety reasserted itself. “I recollect now—we met at my aunt’s ball, did we not?” His smile came, but it did not reach his eyes.
“Aye.” Elizabeth bit her lip and looked away. Perhaps he did not approve of her. Noticing the black mourning band on his arm, she added gently, “Lady Westland told me of your father. I am sorry for your loss.”
Some of the rigidity left him, though she could see sorrow in his eyes. “I thank you.” After a brief pause, he studied her with renewed attention, and she felt as though he were truly seeing her for the first time. “You have been similarly afflicted?”
“My husband,” she confirmed. “He died a fortnight past.”
“I had not heard—I only arrived in town last week. The notice must have escaped me on the road. Pray accept my condolences.” He appeared sincere, and his words seemed to carry genuine sympathy. She nodded and thanked him.
Mr Darcy offered his arm, inviting her to walk with him, and they fell in step together.
Sarah followed at a respectful distance, soon forgotten, while Elizabeth became uncomfortably conscious of the gentleman beside her.
He was very handsome—and tall. He stood well over six feet, with dark hair that curled slightly at his collar and temples.
The brim of his hat shadowed his eyes, but she imagined they, too, were dark—steady and intelligent.
She had never once dared look at other gentlemen when she had come to town after her marriage. He would have been furious had he even suspected her admiration for another. A pang of guilt touched her within—she was not behaving much like a mourning widow. Stubbornly, she pushed the thought away.
After several long moments of silence, Elizabeth spoke. “My sister and father are staying with me while we sort through my husband’s affairs.”
“Will you remain in town after you have concluded your work? Lady Westland will miss you—she speaks of you often.”
“Suzanne is my dearest friend,” Elizabeth’s face brightened as she spoke her friend’s name. “If I leave, I shall write to her faithfully. But my future is uncertain.”
He glanced at her, looking surprised. “Did your husband make no provision for you? I understood him to be a prosperous man.”
A quiet laugh escaped her. “That was not my meaning. Fiennes left me well provided for. I—and my child—shall not want for comfort.”
He inclined his head in approval, the severity of his mien softening. “I am glad of it. I cannot abide men who neglect those dependent on them.”
“You have a sister, do you not?” She recalled Suzanne mentioning one once.
“I do, indeed,” he confirmed with a smile. “Georgiana is a shy girl of twelve. Our father’s death has distressed her deeply, and I confess myself at a loss. I know nothing of raising a young girl!”
“Perhaps Lady Matlock might advise you. She has been a true friend to me, and possesses both sense and understanding.”
“A prudent suggestion. I thank you—I shall consider it.”
As they neared the entrance to the park, Elizabeth turned towards him. “Thank you for the walk and the conversation, Mr Darcy. I realise we shared more freely than is usual between new acquaintances, yet I do not regret it. I feel lighter for your company, sir.” She offered a small curtsey.
He regarded her with a thoughtful air. “Will you walk here again?” A trace of anticipation coloured his voice.
Smiling, she nodded. “I shall walk on the morrow.” They parted—Mr Darcy turning back to the park, and Elizabeth stepping to the kerb to wait for a carriage and four to pass. Sarah stood close beside her.
Just as she prepared to cross, a hand seized her arm, forcing her round to face him.
“Return what is mine!” The man’s voice rang with fury. He was dressed as a gentleman, but his hair was wild and his eyes deranged. “He is dead now! Give it back.”
Elizabeth struggled to free herself, fear gripping her chest. “I do not know what you mean! Release me, sir!” From the corner of her eye, she glimpsed Sarah sprinting across the street to pound on the door of her townhouse.
“Your husband took it all!” The man thrust his face close; the reek of spirits made her gag. “Wouldn’t grant me another month—I want my property back!” He shook her once more before strong hands tore him away. Kane and Sloan stepped between them, forming a barrier as they drove the man back.
“On your way, Burns.” Sloan said curtly.
Elizabeth peered out from behind her rescuers. The man sneered. “Fiennes’s guard-dogs have changed allegiance, I see. It matters not—I will have what is mine!” He turned and bolted into the park, vanishing amongst the trees.
Sloan and Kane escorted a trembling Elizabeth home. She held back her tears, rubbing her sore arm in silence. Once inside, she thanked Sarah for her quick thinking, then sought Wilkens, who awaited her in the study with a ledger in hand.
“Who is Mr Burns?” Her voice rose despite her effort to remain calm. The sound brought Jane and Papa from the drawing room. “He assaulted me in the street, Wilkens! How many more enemies has my husband left behind? How many are waiting to attack?”
Wilkens laid the ledger on the desk. “Mr Rodolphus Burns owned a large warehouse in Cheapside. He dealt chiefly in textiles but sought to expand into imports and exports. The man borrowed heavily from Mr Fiennes, trusting to a quick return. Both vessels he purchased went lost in a storm, and he was ruined.” Wilkens frowned.
“Mr Fiennes did not lend with the intention of taking the business. It was, as he called it, a happy accident. I fear there are others with similar tales—though how many might be brazen enough to attack, I cannot say.”
Elizabeth turned to Kane and Sloan. “I shall not terminate your employment. It appears your services are still required. I shall speak to Wilkens regarding a new contract.”
“Thank you, mistress,” the two men replied in unison. They bowed and withdrew.
“What more can we do to protect Lizzy?” Jane asked anxiously.
Mr Bennet stepped forward. “The first thing we must do is learn all we can of Fiennes’s affairs. These ledgers tell little—I would wager there are others that reveal more.”
“Mr Fiennes kept journals and always carried a small memorandum book,” Wilkens recalled. “I saw the journals but rarely. They are not amongst the papers in the Cheapside office.”
Elizabeth’s mind flew to the shelf in her husband’s chamber. “I believe I know where to look.”