Chapter 2 An Extraordinarily Popular Guest
Darcy
From our position on an outdoor bench, Elizabeth and I oversaw the charming antics of Bennet and Rory as the duo played a game of chase on the expanse of sward. To my annoyance, Graham failed to take my suggestion that he relax in his guest chamber. Instead, he sat in a nearby chair.
The musical sounds of Bennet’s laughter filled the air, along with the raucous tones of Rory’s periodic barks.
I could not keep from smiling at their display.
Our collie thrust his head out from time to time as though to nip at Bennet’s heels—inspiring jubilant squeals and extra bursts of speed from my son—but refrained from making contact.
“Rory chase!” Bennet yelled the fiat whilst he zigzagged in the grass. Our child had not yet mastered the enunciation of the letter “R,” so the uninitiated may have presumed our dog’s name to be “Wowy.” At random intervals, Bennet jerked to a stop and made sudden turns to become the pursuer.
Graham swung his arm towards the boisterous pair. “That dog makes an admirable nursemaid. After all, the best way to ensure a well-behaved child is to thoroughly tire him out.”
My wife waved to Bennet as he ran near her. “Indeed, you are correct. We had collies at my father’s estate, Longbourn, so I have long known how gentle they tend to be with children. Rory has not been a disappointment.”
Bennet’s pace slowed, an indication of his growing weariness. He would soon be ready for his breakfast.
Earlier, when Graham and I had met up with Elizabeth at the sheep pasture and again at the house, I had followed her every movement.
The tightness in my chest had abated when her conduct towards Graham betrayed nothing beyond the interest she would show any other guest. Nevertheless, the suspicion that she took care to conceal her attraction to him tortured me at odd moments.
While I drank in the sight of my son and relished Elizabeth’s proximity, a bitter taste invaded my mouth for Graham’s intrusion—even if the angel did save my life, I wanted to send him away, far away.
Having come so close to losing everything the day before, life seemed more precious than ever.
Tears threatened to escape my eyes at the reminder of how close I had come to losing everything.
From this day forward, I should treasure each moment with my beloved family.
One day, God willing, I should see Bennet grow to be a man and take command of the estate.
Above all else, I looked forward to a long, happy life with my dearest, loveliest Elizabeth. With a grim twist to my lips, I reaffirmed my imperative for the coming days: I should endure Graham to the best of my ability. At the week’s end, he would be gone.
Bennet raced up to Elizabeth and me, drawing me from my thoughts. He took each of us by the hand and tugged. “Mama, Papa, go see horses!”
“Shall we indulge the little tyrant?” Elizabeth grinned at me.
“Why not?” I shifted towards Graham. “We are taking Bennet to the stables.” And for pity’s sake, do not presume to join us.
“Very well.” He waved us on. "I shall await you in the house."
Thank goodness. I placed my hand in the small of Elizabeth’s back, and we set off.
My wife looked over her shoulder at Graham. “Shall we see you in the breakfast-parlour thirty minutes from now?”
“Yes, that sounds delightful.”
The three of us moved towards the stables. Rory darted on ahead, barking. For a time, Bennet ran to keep pace with Elizabeth and me. Within twenty yards of the stables, though, he stopped and raised his arms—he wanted to be carried.
A grin overtook me as I scooped him into my arms. “No doubt you are fatigued by now.” With his tiny form nestled against me, a surge of new energy fuelled my steps.
Nothing compared with the cherished pleasure of holding Bennet, which I tried to do often.
Soon enough, my boy would grow too old to be carried.
When the horses came into sight, Bennet bounced with glee in my arms. He gave a merry shout to the grey mare in the first stall.
From his current height, Bennet could caress the mare’s head and neck with ease.
As we progressed to each stall, my son called out the horses’ names.
All but a few of them came to receive his attention.
Bennet’s face reflected his delight as he brushed his hand along a roan mare’s velvety nose.
My son always gave marked attention to Regal, in part because he understood the black steed was “Papa’s horse,” but also because my stallion never failed to greet Bennet and tolerated his ministrations with steadfast patience.
Elizabeth stood on the other side of Regal, stroking his neck.
I had informed her of the Welsh pony for Bennet that would arrive soon, but the fine sorrel Arabian mare I had chosen for her would be a surprise.
Various images came to me of her response upon first seeing her gift.
Would she be pleased? Despite Elizabeth’s affection for her favourite, Tansy, a gentle dapple-grey mare, a younger and more spirited horse ought to be a better fit for her.
Since our marriage, my wife’s riding skills had undergone a marked improvement.
“Why have you never mentioned Graham before?”
Botheration. I staved off a scowl. Of course, she must be curious about him. I stretched my head back for a view of her. “Have I not?”
“No, I am certain of that.”
“Well, I have not thought about him in a long while. I apologize for his sudden appearance.” The necessity to prevaricate made it difficult for me to maintain her gaze.
“He had mentioned the possibility of travelling here in his most recent missive, but I misunderstood him and thought he meant to come in the spring.” Bennet tapped my shoulder, urging me to the next stall, and I moved forwards.
My wife continued at my side. “It is of no consequence. Mrs. Reynolds always has guest rooms ready in case of unexpected visitors. You have seemed a bit uneasy in Graham’s presence, though. I suppose he has changed from when you last saw him.”
I lifted Bennet towards a bay gelding. “Yes, he has altered so much that he is almost a stranger. It must be the effect of his having spent years residing in a foreign country.”
“I see.”
We moved to the next stall, and mercifully, she dropped the subject. We soon returned to the house and placed Bennet in the care of Miss Hunter.
Elizabeth
Our guest, Graham, made for an uncommon diversion at the breakfast table. He tucked into his plate laden with meats, eggs, muffins, toast, and slices of baked apple with an astonishing degree of gusto, making the food disappear at an amazing rate.
Did he always eat so much? I could barely keep my countenance.
How did he avoid gaining an excess of weight?
For goodness’ sake, the man consumed far more than my husband ever did!
I shifted towards Fitzwilliam, who had barely touched anything on his plate.
“Is everything to your liking? Perhaps you want something else.”
“No, thank you. I am not very hungry this morning.”
I peered at him. He revealed no sign of illness. Maybe the bustle attending his friend’s unexpected arrival diminished his appetite.
My attention returned to our blond guest as he reached for the bowl of poached eggs and added two more to his plate. “And you, Graham, may I presume you find the food acceptable?” I maintained a nonchalant tone, but my smile may have taken on a wry cast.
He swallowed a large mouthful with the aid of a sip of ale. “Yes indeed. I have not had a finer meal in decades.”
“Your praise is gratifying, and I shall be certain to pass on your compliments to our cook.” My sight flitted from Graham to my husband. “How did the two of you become friends?”
Fitzwilliam set down his mug and brought a napkin to his mouth. He cleared his throat. “We…um…both attended Cambridge.”
That one bit of information had already been revealed. Why did he continue to seem so uncomfortable in his friend’s society?
With a mischievous glint in his blue eyes, Graham inched towards me. “In those days, Darcy and I became inseparable. We attended all manner of parties together. I could tell you tales to make you blush.”
Fitzwilliam scowled at his friend before facing me. “Graham made a jest. His sense of humour can stretch the boundaries of propriety at times. The worst of my exploits concerned an injudicious consumption of liquor the evening after completing my final assignments.” He maintained a rigid carriage.
His declaration, which did not account for his uneasiness, left me with doubt. Could he have participated in behaviour at university so offensive that he dreaded my ever learning of it? Perhaps his friend would contradict his statements.
“That is true. I was joking earlier.” Graham spared me a brief look, then attended to his plate of food. I released a delayed breath.
Fitzwilliam met my gaze. “I expect an applicant for the steward position to arrive within the next hour, a Mr. Boyle. Based on the experience detailed in his missive, he seems to be a worthy candidate.”
I sat up straighter. “That is good to hear. I hope he is even more impressive in person.”
“Have you made any plans for the afternoon?”
“Yes, I shall go to Lambton. I am inclined to do a bit of shopping.”
Darcy
Soon after Elizabeth left the breakfast-parlour, my butler Mr. Rutley approached the table. “Sir, Mr. Matthew Boyle has arrived.”
Thank you, Rutley. Allow me ten minutes, then bring him to the study.”
“Very good, sir.”
When I rose and proceeded towards the passage, Graham came along and walked beside me. My mouth flattened to a taut line. What did he hope to accomplish by accompanying me like a shadow? He seemed too much of a dandy to attend to a task as mundane as querying a potential steward.
Inside the study, I confronted him. “I doubt this meeting will interest you.”
“Oh, do not fret for my sake." His lips edged towards a smirk. "I have not had a dull moment yet.”