Chapter 11 #3
“I must admit I do not know.” He was unsure why Elizabeth had asked. “I suspect she is in the country. Howard has a second estate in Cumbria.”
“In the carriage, you said he sent Mr. Wickham after your sister first.” Elizabeth tipped her head to one side. “As though he had lost his sister to a rake and he perhaps wanted you to lose yours.”
Darcy nodded. It made sense if revenge was Howard’s purpose.
“Fitz made the same connection. If we are correct that Howard is at the center of everything that has happened—and I grow increasingly convinced that we are—why did his approach change? Wickham is many things, but I have never seen him become violent with a woman. He prefers to charm them into willing acquiescence.”
“Which is perhaps the reason the men who . . .” Elizabeth clasped her hands in her lap.
“Which is perhaps why different men were sent to abduct me.” She closed her eyes tightly, thinking.
“Mr. Wickham did try to charm me, but then he removed to London and missed the ball.” She blushed and cast a rueful look at him as she admitted, “I thought at first you perhaps had something to do with that.”
“Which is why you brought him up during our dance.” Darcy sighed. “I was concerned he intended to do you harm, Elizabeth. Yet if you had not followed me into the hall to insist on an explanation, I am afraid I might have left Netherfield without saying anything useful at all.”
“You were protecting your sister,” Elizabeth reassured him. “I do think it was a mistake, but I understand it. I have four sisters of my own.”
He rubbed a fist along his jaw and silently cursed Howard. “If Wickham was meant to charm you, why send other men? It is the why that concerns me, Elizabeth. The man I knew had a strict sense of honor. I was certain Howard would be above any such behavior.”
Elizabeth laid her hand over one of his, and Darcy marveled at that small, strong appendage. Her figure was slight, but it was easy to forget that when her spirit was so imposing. She stood and turned to face him. “Perhaps something changed?”
“What has changed?” asked the countess, who had entered the room so quietly that neither he nor Miss Elizabeth had been aware of her presence.
“Howard’s methods,” Darcy explained as he stood to greet his aunt. “With Georgiana, there was no physical attack.”
“Perhaps he thought Georgiana, being so young, would be easier to persuade,” the countess offered. “Or perhaps he was made angry when Miss Howard’s ruination became known.”
“What?” Darcy asked, shocked. “There are rumors? Who started them? How could I have been unaware?”
The countess raised her eyebrows. “I do not know, William. They have been in circulation for some time.”
Elizabeth leaned forward. “Pray, pardon me for asking, Lady Matlock, but is the source of the rumors something you could discover? It might be important.”
“Why?” the countess asked.
Darcy groaned. “Because Howard may believe that I am to blame.”
Elizabeth barely had time to register Mr. Darcy’s statement when the door was flung open and a fashionably dressed man entered the room, the butler trailing helplessly behind him.
She had teased Miss Darcy about her brother’s penchant for black clothing, but she preferred his sober appearance to the dandy who appeared before them now.
He was handsome in a way the colonel was not, but his auburn hair was the same color and fashionably disarranged.
He was arrayed in a bright blue coat, a waistcoat adorned in wide horizontal stripes of blue and gold, and a gleaming white shirt.
He wore buff-colored trousers cut long with a slit over the shoe.
There were no buckles on those shoes; rather, they were fastened with silk bows.
The countess was affectionately exasperated with the man. “Henry, when did you arrive home? You have not yet met Miss Bennet, your cousin’s betrothed.”
Henry. It must be Colonel Fitzwilliam’s elder brother.
Mr. Darcy sighed. His exasperation was not as fond as his aunt’s. “Miss Bennet,” he said formally, “may I introduce my most troublesome cousin, the Viscount Milton?”
“Your best-dressed cousin, you mean. Miss Bennet,” the viscount bowed so deeply Elizabeth suspected he was mocking her. “Your servant.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you, sir,” she replied, casting an uncertain glance at Mr. Darcy. That worthy gentleman was frowning.
“I arrived late last night, Mama,” the gentleman said as he took a seat next to her. “Or rather, early this morning. Father was in raptures over some letter he was sending off to Kent.”
The countess shook her head fondly. “I should have known he would write Catherine.”
Viscount Milton shrugged. “I hope you do not mind, Miss Bennet, but I have come to take Darcy away for a time.”
“Of course,” Elizabeth replied hesitantly.
The viscount nearly bounded over to Mr. Darcy to take him by the arm.
He was immediately shaken off. “Come, Darcy,” the viscount reprimanded.
“Father told me all. No one will believe for an instant that you have married willingly if you do not show your face at the club with me and offer a toast to your lovely bride!”
“You really are the most insufferable peacock, Henry,” Mr. Darcy responded, crossing his arms over his chest.
Elizabeth bit her tongue. It was all she could do to keep from laughing at the pair of them.
She could imagine them as boys together, the elder always goading the younger.
She wondered whether the colonel had sided with Mr. Darcy or with his own brother.
The viscount had likely taken them both on without a single qualm.
The viscount elbowed Darcy in the ribs. “You must write your name and wedding date in the books, Darcy! Fortunes will be made and lost today!” He exited the room in a flurry of arm waving, a call for his hat traveling back to them from the hall.
Elizabeth was still forming the question when Mr. Darcy shook his head. “I am not going, Elizabeth. I would prefer to spend the day with you.”
“Oh, pish-posh,” his aunt protested. “You shall have her all to yourself after tomorrow. Elizabeth and I have yet to discuss the wedding breakfast. It will be a small gathering as so many of our friends are not yet in town. Still, we must make what we can of it.”
“Aunt,” Mr. Darcy said warningly. “Fitz was not sure it would be safe.”
“Pair of old ladies, the two of you,” the viscount scoffed as he returned, doffing his hat, tossing a greatcoat at Mr. Darcy, and reaching back to take a walking stick from the aged butler. “I receive threats on my life every day.”
Mr. Darcy folded the coat over his arm. “You deserve them.”
“True,” his cousin agreed amiably. He gave the head of his stick a twist and lifted it from the wood by a few inches.
Mr. Darcy rolled his eyes. “Which is why you carry a blade hidden in your walking stick.”
“You ought to have one made, Darcy, now you shall have a pretty wife to protect,” the viscount advised, smiling at Elizabeth.
“You are not half bad with a foil, and it is always wise to be prepared.” He slid the weapon back into place.
His dark eyes twinkled. “Also, I have been in three duels this week.”
“Really, Henry,” said the countess with a sigh. “He has done nothing of the sort, Miss Bennet. You must excuse my son. He really does exaggerate dreadfully.”
Mr. Darcy’s mouth was slightly agape. “Please tell me that you are indeed exaggerating, Henry,” he said.
“Of course I am!” exclaimed the viscount. “It is really only three in the past month. And do not fret, Mama. They were none of them over you.”
Elizabeth was just close enough to hear the viscount as he whispered, “Not this month, anyway.”
Mr. Darcy was about to refuse. She could see it in his inflexible posture and wrinkled brow.
Although she wished to deny it, the viscount had a point.
If the men at his club were to see that her betrothed was a happy man rather than one who hid from view, it might make the early days a little easier to bear for them both.
She stepped forward. “Might I borrow my intended for a moment, my lord?” she asked politely.
He offered her another sweeping bow, and she could not help but answer it with a small but impatient huff before taking Mr. Darcy’s arm and stepping away.
“Elizabeth,” he said firmly, “if you would prefer I remain, I shall. I have no desire to visit the club with Henry.”
She worried her bottom lip before replying, “As long as you are safe, William, I believe you should go.”
His confusion was endearing. “You do?”
“As long as you believe your cousin will keep you safe,” she repeated. “Yes.”
“I do not require Henry to protect me,” he grumbled.
Elizabeth searched Mr. Darcy’s face. He was clenching his jaw. “Would you normally have done as your cousin recommends, had our courtship transpired in a more traditional way?”
Mr. Darcy considered her question before answering. “I do not know, to be truthful. It is more in Henry’s style than my own, but I might have been more easily persuaded had I not lately been required to remove you from quite so many trunks.”
She touched his arm. “I am in your uncle’s house, the same house that protects your sister.”
“And turned Howard’s notice from Georgiana to you.” He took her hand and traced the palm of it with the pad of his thumb.
“None of that, William,” Elizabeth told him sternly. “It was not your fault. I will say it again and again until you agree—you are responsible only for your own actions.”
He gave her a sly look. “Actually, once we are married, I am legally responsible for your actions.”
“Are you?” Elizabeth placed a finger on her chin. “All of the mischief and none of the punishment. I think I shall enjoy being married.”
“Minx,” he said. “I would kiss you now, you know, were the room not so full.”
Elizabeth’s cheeks warmed. “Go out with your cousin. I promise I will not leave the house today.”
“Very well. If you insist.”
She felt him squeeze her hand before he raised it to bestow a kiss. He had given her one after all. “I do. You might even try to enjoy yourself a little.”
“Well done, Miss Bennet!” cried the viscount, who had sidled over to listen. He pointed at her, ignoring her surprise and Mr. Darcy’s scowl at his rudeness. “You may call me Henry!”