Chapter 2 An Extraordinarily Popular Guest #4
I glanced at the volume, a collection of folk stories.
“Very well, Bennet.” Gathering him in my arms, I took him to the rocking chair and sat with him upon my lap.
Each time I turned a page, my son pointed at the illustrations and called out the objects pictured, but he fell silent and ceased his movements as I recited the stories.
I spent twenty minutes in that gratifying occupation and completed two of the tales before I left my son with a parting kiss upon his forehead.
Upon my return downstairs, the sound of a merry tune drew me to the music room.
My steps halted at the doorway, my entire being absorbed by the sight before me: my wife played the pianoforte and sang in concert with Graham.
So, the angel with the golden hair and perfect features also boasted an impressive baritone singing voice.
They performed together with such harmony that an observer might assume they had practiced together for years.
Furthermore, they gazed at each other with evident affinity and could easily be mistaken for paramours.
A biting discomfort rent my insides, choking off my air.
At the conclusion of the song, I forced myself forwards and clapped. They both turned in my direction.
“Fitzwilliam, there you are.” Elizabeth sauntered towards me. “Did you know Graham had such a marvellous singing voice?”
I managed something akin to a smile. “I did not…or perchance I forgot.”
She angled her head to the side. “I am sure I have never heard a better one.”
“Ah, but I cannot agree.” Graham moved closer to her. “While your voice may not be perfect, there is a sweetness and an expression of feeling in the sound that is unmatched. I should compare your mezzo soprano favourably to that of any famous opera singer.”
With a glare, my sight shifted to Graham. “I have always preferred Elizabeth’s singing voice to any other.”
My wife glanced between him and me, her eyes glimmering.
“Both of your statements are too outrageous to be believed.” She patted my arm and regarded me with a fond look that melted a fair bit of my internal unrest. “Fitzwilliam may be pardoned for such aggrandisement, for it is his duty as my husband to exaggerate my good qualities as much as possible.” She directed a raised eyebrow at Graham. “You, sir, have no excuse.”
With a hand pressed to his heart, Graham staggered backwards, as though shot by a musket. “Madam, you wound me. I should never have uttered the declaration had it not been the absolute truth.”
My lower jaw thrust forwards. What a theatrical fool!
Having lowered her gaze, Elizabeth appeared to be biting back a grin. After a moment, she recovered her poise. “Shall we go in to dinner?”
Graham patted his stomach. “By all means, let us eat.” He darted to her side and offered his arm. With a sigh, I followed them into the dining-parlour.
While Graham ate enough food for two men, Elizabeth queried me for details of my meeting with Mr. Boyle, and I related the happy news.
A dazzling smile illuminated her countenance.
“I am so relieved you found a man suitable for the job. I understand he will not start for another week and will need to learn the duties particular to Pemberley, but I can soon expect you to have more free time at last. Dare I hope we might plan a trip somewhere—perhaps to the seaside?”
In the face of her beauty, overt enthusiasm, and anticipation of our travelling together, a burst of energy infused me.
She made a superb suggestion. We had discussed travelling to Margate or Brighton last year, but one problem or another had arisen to postpone the trip.
The picturesque beaches, the soothing rhythm of the waves, and the glimmering turquoise-blue water of the seaside could not fail to delight her.
And what could be more enticing than my wife running barefoot along a secluded strand with her dress hitched up?
“I do not see why not. We shall make plans for the trip next month.”
“Oh, that is wonderful!”
One of the maids, Sally, brought out a tray of bread and backed away whilst staring at Graham.
She bumped into the sideboard, stumbled, and almost fell to the floor.
I shared a look with Elizabeth, and she gave me a slight nod.
Mrs. Reynolds needed to speak with the servants—their conduct around Graham had become unacceptable.
I took the basket of rolls and handed one to my wife before setting them within her reach. She often devoured two or three of the light, doughy creations at dinner. “Did you find everything you needed in Lambton today?”
“Oh yes.” She spread a pat of butter upon the bread. “We went to the book shop and Birk’s Mercantile and found several items to purchase at both places.”
We? A particle of food lodged in my throat, necessitating a hurried drink of wine to ease it down. “Did Graham accompany you?” My words came out louder than I had intended.
She set down her knife and shifted towards me.
“Yes, I had assumed you knew. Graham proved to be most helpful. He suggested music for several festive Italian songs I had never heard before and recommended a children’s book for Bennet.
At Birk’s, I obtained a jar of Pomfret cakes, and when I mentioned Bennet’s birthday, Graham insisted on purchasing two small gifts for him. ”
What could be Graham’s object? He had professed his intention to explore the estate, not accompany Elizabeth to Lambton.
A chill rippled through me as images flooded my mind of the two of them together.
Did my disquiet go beyond reason? I trusted my wife—she would never betray me.
Besides, they would have been in public view and accompanied by our footmen.
The sight of them together could have inspired gossip, but if so, it would die down once Graham departed. I endeavoured to regulate my tone. “I know you despise Pomfret cakes. For whom did you buy them?”
A crease appeared on her brow. “The elder Mrs. Green. I shall visit the residence tomorrow. The poor lady’s illness has progressed, and she is not expected to live much longer.
When I spoke to her daughter-in-law, Selina, on my last visit, she mentioned her mother-in-law’s great fondness for Pomfret cakes. ”
Dear me. The elder Mrs. Green, the matriarch of one of our tenant families, suffered from a devastating malady that the local surgeon, Mr. Cooper, believed to be a cancer of the womb. “I am sorry to hear her situation has become so dire. I shall accompany you to the Green’s home.”
She stretched closer, and her hand found mine under the table, entwining our fingers for a few exquisite moments. “The family will appreciate that.”
Graham tore himself away from his food long enough to glance our way. “I should be happy to come along as well.”
The lousy interloper! The angel’s actions conflicted with his averred purpose, and I should demand an explanation.
As the meal neared its end, I fidgeted in my seat until Elizabeth rose, prompting Graham and I to follow suit.
“I shall leave you gentlemen to your liquor.” She left the room, taking the last vestiges of my goodwill along with her.
Once the brandy had been served, and I could be assured of our privacy, I moved to the seat next to Graham. “Why did you go to Lambton with my wife today? You said I should be your guide, not her.”
Graham shrugged and maintained an infernal smirk.
“Indeed, I meant what I said. Nevertheless, I have realised it makes sense to spend time with your wife as well. If I am not mistaken, she is a significant reason you are so content. Do you deny that she has a huge effect on the state of your happiness and well-being?”
My fingers curled, and the muscles along my spine tensed. “I have no wish to deny that. Elizabeth is everything wonderful. I am fortunate to have her and love her with all my heart. As her husband, I am responsible for her safety, and I demand that you stay away from her.”
“Oh my, such vehemence.” Graham drank from his glass. “This has an excellent flavour!” He took another slow, savouring sip of the brandy. “I wonder, of what can you be afraid? Do you suppose that if your wife spends too much time in my company, she will fall in love with me?”
“That is nonsense!” I took a swig from my glass.
Elizabeth would never fall in love with a man such as Graham.
Her attraction to him had been obvious, yet that differed greatly from love.
Still, his audacious question assailed my equanimity.
As my heart raced, I summoned the energy to scoff at the angel.
“No one who knows Elizabeth would make such a ridiculous suggestion. I do not doubt my wife’s fidelity. It is you whom I do not trust.”
“What do you imagine I shall do?”
I swallowed another healthy draught of brandy. “You have demonstrated powers that ought to be impossible. You could take advantage of her, scare her, confuse her, or cause her harm.”
Graham’s facial muscles tightened enough to project staidness. “I can understand your concerns. However, I am aware of the expected behaviour in your society. I meant my earlier promise to you. I shall act as a proper gentleman at all times with Elizabeth and will never hurt her in any way.”
At his statement, the tension in my shoulders decreased. I could not be certain whether his word could be trusted, yet what choice did I have? I should be forced to endure his presence until the week’s end.
“Furthermore, I have plans in Lambton for this evening, and I do not expect to return until the morrow.”
I almost smiled at his announcement until a possible explanation for his absence occurred to me: he might be obligated to fulfil an official duty tonight—one of a morbid nature. “Does this mean…is someone in Lambton going to die?”