Chapter Fifteen #3
“I beg you will not put any great weight on Lydia’s nonsense,” George remarked, as they rode back.
Hugh had remained behind. Reid rode with them, but at a glance from Darcy, he pulled his horse to one side to give them some privacy.
“She has no father to guide her, and the lack is obvious. More, her mother encourages her.”
“Her mother lives in dread of her daughters remaining unmarried, and them all descending into destitution. They are merry girls at heart. They use laughter, I think, to cover up what must ache in them—the loss of their father, of their family home, of their significance in the world, of all once familiar, of every jot and tittle of the life they had once led or once expected to lead. I find that admirable, at least.”
Darcy did not cavil at that. He suspected George had very similar aches of his own, when it came to the loss of the Wickham estate in Cheshire.
Sympathy softened his ire. “I cannot pretend to fully understand their feelings and how their reduced circumstances have affected them, and I find no fault with their attempt to lighten the cares on themselves and their mother. That does not discompose me. But her behaviour is not acceptable, George. It must be dealt with.”
George grimaced, and fell silent.
Darcy did not induce him to talk, instead finding himself thinking much on Miss Lydia. He would not countenance Georgiana emulating such boldness. He would not.
The silence lasted until they reached Pemberley.
When the coach came to a halt at the main door, Darcy dismounted to hand Miss Elizabeth down from it, but Reid was there before him. With a glance at him, Reid offered his arm and escorted her to door.
Darcy recognised that glance, the one ordering him to stand back. What the devil was Reid about?
“I do hope Reid isn’t developing a tendre for Lizzy.”
And now Darcy looked sharply at George, because there had not been as much amusement in his tone as George no doubt intended.
“I concluded earlier his inclination lies in another direction entirely.” He handed over Ram’s reins to the groom who ran up to them.
“Thank you, Harris. Take Mr Wickham’s horse too, will you?
” He turned to George. “You will stay for the evening?”
“Gladly.” George swung down from Pigeon, and allowed the groom to trot back to the stables with their mounts. The coach followed. “We should take an hour to review the rents and the tenants, in any event.”
At the door, Reid bowed over Miss Elizabeth’s hand, and jog-trotted back to join them after she was admitted to the house. Darcy cocked an eyebrow at him.
Reid grimaced back. “I took another look at the study before I left the house this morning.”
George grinned. “What is left of it, you mean.”
Reid huffed out a thin snort. “Aye. But I’ve been thinking. By the time I left for my bed, the fire was burning low. I canna see how there were hot embers enough to reach the hearthrug, even if they did slip forwards. Unless you added more coal, Mr Darcy?”
“No. I fell asleep not long after you left, I think. Though it puzzles me how I was so sleepy and overcome.”
“I’m thinking on what Miss Elizabeth said, too, about hearing the servants’ door close.
” Reid returned Darcy’s gaze steadily. “I asked her if she was sure about what she heard. She said she was not, in the cold light o’day, and if she heard anything at all, it was likely the night footman.
I’m minded to have a word with him, and see if he left his post at all. ”
Darcy nodded. “He will deny it, if he did.”
“Aye, but I will ask him, all the same. None of this is sitting well with me, that I will say.” Reid straightened into the stance no doubt drilled into him years before, when he had still been marching behind the king’s colours. He bowed, and walked away into the house.
“Is he seriously suggesting foul play?” George asked, his demeanour stiff.
“While he is the last to be imaginative or fanciful, I learned to depend upon Reid’s instincts. They have saved me before now.”
“I see.” George started up the steps to the front door, then stopped, putting out a hand to halt Darcy. “Perhaps I am the fantastical one, then, but I would give a great deal to know if Hugh truly went to Hucklow yesterday evening.”
“You suspect Hugh of something?”
“You saw his temper last night. You have seen it several times. He is envious and bitter, and in an unguarded moment he might well act with rash impetuosity.”
“I cannot believe he holds such malice towards me.”
“He has no fondness for you. I cannot say if it would lead him to such a grievous act, but he is undisciplined and, frankly, spoiled.” George grimaced. “He has the most to gain, Fitzwilliam.”
“As my heir, you mean, he would gain Pemberley. I cannot believe it of him, George. You saw how distraught he was this morning over the damage to the room our father had loved so well. Do you think he dissembled so cleverly?”
“I beg you think about that after the winter’s amusements, and you have seen Hugh at the theatricals he loves so much. He would give Kemble pause.”
Darcy looked away across the courtyard to hide his frown. His father had said something about Hugh’s skills as an actor. He moistened his lips. “I cannot believe he would burn down Pemberley, even to remove me. He loves the place too much.”
“Houses may be rebuilt.” George shrugged, and raised one hand in apparent surrender. “Well, we cannot openly ask the general if Hugh was at Hucknall last night without setting the county alight with gossip and speculation.”
“The last thing I want.”
“And I. But be careful, Fitzwilliam. Be very careful.”