Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
L ady Fulford’s drawing room was far more comfortable than any other Elizabeth had been in, and yet she was far from easy there. She still had not met Lord Fulford, despite staying at his house. After a few days of remaining in his private rooms, he had left very early the previous morning without saying a word to anyone. Lady Fulford had not offered an explanation, and Elizabeth knew it was too soon in their friendship to ask. Her hostess seldom spoke of him, preferring to talk of her house. She claimed to be only a little vexed at his absence, but Elizabeth sensed her spirits were dampened. It was impossible not to notice the looks that passed between the servants at the mention of his name.
Settling herself on the sofa, Elizabeth began to read Jane’s letter, which had arrived that morning. There were a few references to Mr Bingley but no news of a proposal.
“Have you finished your letter?” Lady Fulford asked after a short while. “Do not think me rude, but I am beginning to grow restless, and I wish for you to distract me.”
From the lips of anyone else, the remark would be impolite, but when said in Lady Fulford’s playful tone, Elizabeth could only be amused. Folding it, she said, “I am. Would you tell me about your family? Mr Darcy has told me very little, I am afraid.”
Her companion’s face brightened. “You and he have been more agreeably engaged! I have two brothers. The eldest, Viscount Thorpe, is married, although you would hardly believe it, from the way he conducts his life. His wife is a tedious Frenchwoman, and theirs is not a happy union.” She leant closer to Elizabeth, her voice suddenly serious, “I probably should not tell you this, but he associates with the most awful woman by the name of Mrs Wilder. Darcy loathes him, as he does anyone who conducts themselves dishonourably.
“I am sorry. Your other brother is Colonel Fitzwilliam, is he not?”
“Richard is an altogether different kind of man. He and Darcy are more like brothers than cousins. They share guardianship of Georgiana. He is friendly and open, but also stubborn.”
“Mr Darcy told me yesterday of the dinner party to be held in memory of a man called Dominic. Who else will be in attendance?”
“Georgiana, I suppose. She is a dear pet, and you will like her very much. I have another aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. She, my father, and Darcy’s late mother are brother and sisters. I suppose Mama might have invited her, but she lives in Kent, and I doubt she will come. She has not taken the news of your engagement well.”
“So I have heard.” Elizabeth suppressed a shudder as she recalled the scene Mr Collins made at Longbourn after receiving a letter from Lady Catherine. She briefly explained the connexion to Lady Fulford.
“Then you know she has a mouse of a daughter named Anne. She fancies herself to be unwell, but I suspect it is at my aunt’s insistence.” Lady Fulford gave a grim smile. “My family can be very tiresome. My mother is seldom pleased with me. On my wedding day, I am sure her tears were not ones of happiness, but rather of relief that I would no longer live under her roof. This dinner is meant to be a sombre occasion.”
“Forgive me if this is a delicate question, but who precisely is Dominic? Mr Darcy mentioned his name, but did not reveal anything else. I did not like to ask, for there was something in his demeanour that seemed reluctant to discuss him.”
“I am not surprised to hear of his reticence.” Lady Fulford’s expression grew pensive, and when she spoke again, her voice was wistful. She seemed to age before Elizabeth’s eyes. “Tis a painful subject, especially for him. My father had a younger brother—Mallory—who was widowed at an early age. He travelled extensively, a bit of an adventurer, in fact, and my father rarely admitted him to the house. One of the few memories I have of him was when he arrived, unannounced, demanding that my father look after his young son, Dominic, while he went to explore the Americas. Dominic was only six years old. My mother had no desire to keep him, especially as he was the son of a man she considered a scoundrel. Uncle Darcy—your Darcy’s father—took Dominic to Pemberley. Lady Anne longed for a large family. This was before Georgiana was born. Dominic became a little brother to Darcy, and he used to follow him everywhere.”
“What happened to him?”
“My uncle returned three years later and reclaimed his son. We saw Dominic very little after that. I do not truly know what happened to him. All I know is that they travelled extensively. I believe there was some correspondence between Dominic and Darcy in the intervening years. After his father died, Dominic returned to London. He was a quiet, shy young man, which made his death all the more shocking.”
“I do not understand,” Elizabeth said, encouraging Lady Fulford to go on.
“I do not know the details, but there was a duel. Dominic abhorred violence, which is what made it such a dreadful surprise. Darcy was the one who found him.”
Elizabeth’s lips tightened as she recollected how strongly the sight of blood affected Mr Darcy, certain she had discovered why. What horrors he must have witnessed! I cannot imagine losing someone I cherished in such a way.
“He never speaks of it,” Lady Fulford added sombrely. “I hope he shares his sorrow with you one day.”
“Thank you for telling me.” Privately, Elizabeth doubted she would ever know Mr Darcy well enough for him to share such dark secrets.
Lady Fulford shook her shoulders and smiled bravely at Elizabeth. “Let us talk of happier topics— you must tell me about your family. What is it like to have four sisters?”
“Brother, what are Miss Bennet’s favourite colours? I wish to make a good impression.”
Darcy looked from the letter he was writing. His sister had closed her book with a snap and was looking at him expectantly. Her eyes were bright with enthusiasm, and guilt vibrated in his chest. It was the happiest he had seen her since Ramsgate, and he despised lying to her about his engagement to Elizabeth, just as he supposed Elizabeth hated lying to her loved ones.
“She will like you no matter what you are wearing.” He gave his sister a reassuring smile.
“But what if she does not?” Georgiana’s good mood faded, and she regarded him with an anxious expression.
“She will,” he insisted gently. He wondered whether Elizabeth shared Georgiana’s anxiety about their first meeting, to say nothing of being introduced to his family, upon whose approval so much depended. His uncle and aunt did not usually meet socially with families of little standing, such as the Bennets. He hoped they did not offend Elizabeth—inadvertently or intentionally. She had suffered enough. “Elizabeth has an affectionate and open disposition. She will like you.”
Still sounding unconvinced, Georgiana said, “Cecilia wrote that Miss Bennet is a great wit and an accomplished conversationalist. I-I hope she will not mind talking to me.”
“She will not,” Darcy assured her. “If you like, in the few days remaining until our aunt’s dinner party, I shall tell you more about her.”
Georgiana smiled and looked relieved. “It is not every day you meet your new sister. I do hope we shall become friends.”
Her expression was of such sincere longing that Darcy could not help being touched. How fortunate that Elizabeth has such a pleasing and friendly manner. What a shame we are not truly engaged. He caught himself; he had promised Elizabeth that he would help her, and he would have to ensure that she was introduced to some of his more eligible friends. Although I cannot imagine who would be worthy of her. The image of Elizabeth marrying another man inexplicably provoked a sour taste in his mouth. He fought the urge to sigh. If only she had agreed to marry me rather than enter into this sham. Then I would not have to lie to my sister. The image of Elizabeth, blushing and beautiful, on their wedding day threatened to assail him, and, with some effort, he forced his attention back to Georgiana.
Before their conversation could continue, the butler delivered a note to him. Opening it, he found the message was brief, but clear.
Five hundred pounds or your sister’s shame will be on everyone’s lips. Send a reply with the boy.
Darcy’s heart beat wildly and blood roared at his temples as he attempted to regain composure.
“Whatever is the matter?” Georgiana cried.
He swallowed heavily and struggled to sound easy when he said, “‘Tis a trifling business matter, and I am vexed that it has interrupted our time together.” He reached for a pen. “I shall write a quick response, and then I am afraid I must leave you.”
Darcy allowed instinct to guide him and prayed he was not making a grave mistake.
Where and when?
“You indicated you would settle the demand?” Darcy’s solicitor, Mr Andrews, regarded him with some concern.
“I asked for information about how to pay.” Darcy rubbed a hand across his eyes, hoping it would ease his headache.
“I understand your reluctance to ignore the threat, but the problem will not go away so easily. The demands will become more extortionate, and, in all likelihood, your secrets will be made public regardless.”
Darcy had always valued Mr Andrews’s opinion and relied on his discretion, but he had not told him of Georgiana’s near-elopement, and he was not certain he wished to. Yet, it might be required, if only to explain that he would do whatever was necessary to protect his sister.
“My recommendation is that you do not pay the amount asked,” Mr Andrews said. “You might instead insist it is too much but offer a smaller amount as bait in exchange for information regarding the source of this secret. I suspect whoever is writing these notes will become greedy and reveal more about themselves than they intend. Once you have a time and location to leave the money, place the spot under close watch and follow whoever collects it. With your permission, I shall conduct investigations of my own. You will not be free of this threat until we know the culprit’s identity. I am certain we can devise a plan to deal with them—while preserving your good name—something severe enough that they will not dare disturb your peace again.”
“When we have identified who we believe is behind this, we must be confident of their guilt before we act. I would not want to accuse an innocent man.”
“Or woman.” Mr Andrews gave a tight smile. “You would be surprised how many of the fairer sex find themselves embroiled in these intrigues.”
Darcy accepted this with a nod and rose to say goodbye. “Thank you for your time. I shall inform you if there are any further developments.”
“I await the fruits of your endeavours,” Mr Andrews stood and respectfully showed Darcy to the door. “I hope this unpleasantness does not detract from your forthcoming marriage.”
His words reminded Darcy of Elizabeth, and instantly his mood lifted. He was filled with an overwhelming desire to see her, to soak in the warmth of her presence, to find a distraction in the soothing balm of her company. He thanked Mr Andrews again before departing into the sultry London streets, his thoughts still full of her.
The Fulfords’ residence was not far from Darcy’s own house and he went there directly, hoping to see the ladies. His cousin and Elizabeth were at home, and he found them discussing fashion. They smiled at him in greeting, but it was the look of surprised pleasure on Elizabeth’s face that caused his pulse to skip. Cecilia made a great show of chastising him for arriving with no warning, but she took up a book and moved to a chair on the other side of the room, leaving him and Elizabeth to talk freely.
“Is anything the matter?” Elizabeth’s expressive eyes were full of concern. “Has something happened?”
“No.” Other than my sister being threatened by some unknown person. He contemplated telling her the source of his disquiet, but however tempting it was to take Elizabeth into his confidence and share his concerns, he did not feel he had the right to. Swiftly changing the subject, he said, “You are the second person in as many days who has asked me if I am well as soon as they see me. If I were a vain man, I might begin to fret over my appearance.”
“You are not a vain man?” She laughed, her brows arching, and the weight of his cares lifted.
“I do not believe I am.”
“People who are truly vain rarely know it, or so I have often thought.” She sobered. “But permit me to say that you look tired, and there are dark shadows under your eyes.”
“Not at all as a newly engaged man should appear?” Her concern for him was charming, and he relished it.
“Not exactly.” She shook her head, blushing a little. “I am sorry. I should learn to think before voicing my opinions. My mother always says it is my chief fault.”
“I am not certain you have a fault.” The words escaped his mouth before he had time to consider them.
The colour in her cheeks deepened. “Everyone does, Mr Darcy. I am beginning to suspect that yours might be excessive flattery.”
“Surely there is no such thing.” In a low voice, he added, “Not with regards to you.” The shy, confused look this earned him set his body afire. Desire, stronger than any sensation he had ever known, coursed through his body. I should have put my hand to flirting years ago. No. It is well that I waited for her, for a lady whose good opinion I truly wish to earn.
Elizabeth averted her gaze and after regaining her composure, asked, “Is there a reason for your call?”
Her expression was guarded, and he sensed a wall had been raised between them. Have I overstepped? Seized by a sudden impulse, wanting to please her as he believed he had a moment ago, he said, “I came to invite you to the theatre.” He attempted to rationalise his suggestion, to himself as much as to Elizabeth. “It would do us good to be seen together. I shall ask my uncle and aunt to accompany us.”
“I-I would be glad to accept your invitation.”
He heard the hesitation in her voice and was crestfallen. “But you do not wish to go?”
“I am grateful indeed, but…”
“No secrets. That was our agreement.” Suddenly, he decided that, whatever her objections, he would find a way to address them. He wanted her to agree, wanted her to desire his company as much as he craved hers.
“I have always longed to go to a London theatre. My uncle promised to take me when I next visited him. I never supposed that these would be the circumstances in which I would view my first performance.” His disappointment must have been obvious, for her brow contracted and she said quickly, “Forgive me, my unruly tongue has misspoken again. I sounded ungrateful when what I meant to say was that I am very pleased that you asked me, and I am delighted to accept your invitation.”
She looked so lovely in the glow of the fire that it was a moment before Darcy found his voice. “You have nothing to apologise for. It would be my pleasure to show you all that London has to offer.”
“All that London offers?” She raised a teasing brow. “Be careful with your promises, or you will soon become a very busy man.”
His cheeks hurt as he smiled at her, drinking in the warmth of her presence once more, in earnest wonderment of what it was about her that made him forget all of his troubles. “The pleasure would be mine, Miss Bennet.”