Chapter 30 #2
Lady Carlisle regarded him with an expression of some surprise.
“I have said nothing of Miss Bennet to Lady Harrow! In fact, I have neither seen nor heard from my friend since our evening at Covent Garden last week. It is unusual, I grant you, but she has been out each time I have called. In truth, she was most displeased when she saw you with your Miss Bennet at the theatre. It is entirely likely she blames me for your choice. You know how she can be when she is vexed about something and has not gotten her way.”
Darcy shook his head slowly. “If you have seen nothing of Lady Harrow since then, nor spoken to her, how is it possible that I witnessed her climbing into your carriage this morning not half an hour ago on Park Street? Surely, she cannot summon your conveyance without your express permission, madam!”
“That is impossible,” Lady Carlisle insisted, setting her teacup upon its saucer with some distress.
“My carriage is being repaired as we speak—at your uncle’s insistence, no less, though I discerned nothing amiss with it myself.
He took it in any case, with no expectation of a timely return.
I have not had use of it in over a week! ”
Colonel Fitzwilliam, who had been silent throughout their exchange thus far, cleared his throat. “Darcy, a word, if you please.” He indicated the hall with a tilt of his head.
Lady Carlisle would have none of it, however, and rolled her eyes sardonically.
“Richard, I am not an infirm nincompoop! Whatever you must confide to Darcy you will also relate to me or I shall lose my patience with you entirely. I will not abide your whispering to each other in the hall like a pair of ill-bred, gossiping schoolgirls. Out with it!”
Darcy yanked a chair away from the table and sat upon it. “You heard your mother,” he said crisply. “Out with it.”
“Surely, you recall that my mother is not the only member of this household privy to Miss Bennet’s worth.”
“Fitzwilliam,” he said darkly, “if you are trying to tell me that you—once again—are the one with loose lips, I will not be amused.”
“Of course, I am not! You know my father was by no means happy with your choice, nor with you for that matter, especially after you threatened to sever ties with him. Do you not think that must account for something?”
“And so, he ran off to his club and complained to his friends like a gossiping woman,” Darcy muttered in annoyance. “Where is he?”
Fitzwilliam looked pointedly at Darcy and said with utmost gravity, “He is neither at home, nor at his club. He has not been seen there all week, nor here for that matter. He has not visited any of his other haunts either. I have made enquiries.”
Darcy stared at him with purpose. He could not very well mention his uncle’s mistress in the presence of his aunt, but that is where his mind travelled without delay.
Apparently, Lady Carlisle harboured no such compunction.
“Surely, your unscrupulous father,” she said disdainfully, “has more than one loose woman at his disposal, Richard. Either you know who they are, or you do not. But if Darcy wishes to speak with his worthless uncle, you had best find out. He once mentioned Drury Lane and King’s Place, but surely, there must be other dens of iniquity where London’s so-called gentlemen scurry off to meet their mistresses while their wives sit at home keeping their houses and raising their heirs. ”
Darcy grimaced. His aunt had an excellent memory, but in such a case as this a good memory could be unpardonable, for it obviously afforded the countess much pain.
It was unfortunate his uncle did not share that same attribute.
Had Lord Carlisle been able to remember the date of their wedding, perhaps he would also have recalled the vows he had made to his wife in church and taken them seriously instead of merely taking a succession of mistresses.
Suddenly, Darcy recalled something himself. “Lady Carlisle, from where does Miss Bennet hail?”
She looked at him as though he had lost his mind. “Darcy, surely, you have not forgotten! Oh, this does not bode well for your future as a married man if you cannot even recall that the woman you love is from Hertfordshire! Really, Nephew…” She shot him a look of utmost exasperation.
He glanced meaningfully at his cousin. “When I spoke with her this morning, Lady Harrow said ‘Exeter’, not ‘Hertfordshire’.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam shrugged. “So, what if she did? Obviously, she was mistaken and—”
“She is not the only one who was mistaken.”
“My father?”
Darcy nodded. He glanced at the countess, who appeared remarkably composed considering the implications at hand. “Pray accept my apology, Lady Carlisle, for my abhorrent suppositions.”
“You, Nephew,” she said briskly, “I can forgive. Your uncle, and his abhorrence, is another matter altogether! He has made his bed and now must lay in it—my so-called friend as well. Let her console him from now on, along with his string of other mistresses! Let them console each other! They are both the most undeserving, disloyal people of my acquaintance, and I no longer wish to know either of them! In fact, from this day forward I shall not.”
She rose from the table with an alacrity that startled both gentlemen, and they quickly followed suit. The countess raised one hand to her forehead, shut her eyes, and sighed. “I believe I would like a divorce, Darcy, as expediently as possible. I trust you to help me obtain one.”
“I will assist you in whatever way I can. But are you certain? A divorce—”
“I am aware of the repercussions of such a measure, and of the scandal that will ensue once it becomes public knowledge.
I am sorry for any difficulties it may cause you and Georgiana, but I can no longer abide being married to such a man.
I am three-and-fifty. I cannot spend the rest of my life living miserably in his shadow.
“Richard, you will help me to pack my things. I cannot bear to stay in this house a moment longer. Once we have done, I will go to Darcy House, where I will reside until I can make other arrangements. And Darcy,” she said, “I would like to see my future niece and her new aunt once I am settled. I am feeling extremely dull this morning. I daresay they will do an admirable job of raising my spirits.”
Lady Carlisle fidgeted with the handles of her reticule as Darcy’s carriage made its way through the cobbled streets of Mayfair towards Cheapside. “Are you quite certain these relations of Miss Bennet’s—this Mr and Mrs Gardiner—will not be put out by my coming?”
“Not at all,” Darcy replied. “They are expecting you, and they are pleased by your coming. And before you speculate upon the source of their pleasure, let it be understood that it is in no way connected to your rank. Mr and Mrs Gardiner are easily two of the most agreeable people I have ever known. They take immense enjoyment in their family. Once I marry Miss Bennet, you will become their family. All is well.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but Darcy knew her well, and before she could utter a word, he interrupted her to reiterate his point. “The Gardiners, and Miss Bennet for that matter, could not care a whit if you were a duchess or a milkmaid so long as you are gracious.”
Lady Carlisle huffed. “Oh, very well. I cannot believe I will soon be dining in Cheapside, of all places. And they will become your relations—not that you have much in the way of relations to boast of on the Fitzwilliam side, of course, save for Richard and Georgiana, and poor Anne. Josephine, I fear, will eventually be driven to despair over Arthur, for he is as unscrupulous and wicked as his father.”
Darcy felt it best not to comment and so remained silent.
It was nothing short of a miracle that he was able to convince the countess to accompany him to Gracechurch Street.
He had desperately wanted to see Elizabeth but did not want to abandon his aunt to her own devices on her first night in his home, nor did the countess wish to be idle. This seemed an acceptable solution.
She emitted a long-suffering sigh and looked out the window.
“You are lucky your Miss Bennet is a clever, sensible young woman. I doubt she will ascribe any of our failings onto you, regardless of the situation or intent. Tell me. Did she really put Lady Harrow in her place this morning, and in the middle of Park Street no less?”
Darcy inclined his head. “She did. With consummate grace and diplomacy, as per your guidance, but I expected no less from Miss Bennet.”
Lady Carlisle’s lips lifted with a smile.
“Of course, she would say what needed to be said and not permit herself to be insulted and abused. She will do fine with the rest of them, then, if she can stand up to Lady Harrow without so much as batting an eye. Your Miss Bennet was an ideal choice, Nephew.”
“Miss Bennet was the only choice. I never could have been happy with another. There are no pretences between us, no concealment, no deception. She is privy to all my deficiencies and loves me despite them. Look,” he said, and pointed towards the window, where a line of neat, well-kept row houses lined one side of the street.
They appeared charming, despite their barren flower boxes and their proximity to the warehouses just beyond.
“We are nearly there. Gracechurch Street is just around the corner. The Gardiners’ house is somewhat larger than these homes and is elegant and tastefully decorated.
Mrs Gardiner has a discerning eye and excellent taste.
There is a park in the neighbourhood, though not nearly as grand as Hyde Park.
The children often play there when the weather is fair. I have been there myself.”
Lady Carlisle glanced at him sharply. “You like it here,” she said in astonishment. “You, who live in the most exclusive part of London, cannot possibly prefer Cheapside to Mayfair!”
Darcy shook his head. “While I cannot deny that I enjoy spending time in Gracechurch Street, it is not the neighbourhood per se, but the people who reside here that I like. I have told you before I am fond of the Gardiners. They are among the few people I know who have no expectations of me, but whose esteem I will always strive to deserve.”
“I shall endeavour to like them, then,” his aunt replied with improved civility. “I confess I am curious to meet Mr Gardiner. You tend to speak very differently of Miss Bennet’s uncle than you do of your own.”
“Mr Gardiner,” Darcy said succinctly, “is nothing at all like the earl. Therein lies the difference. Deference for one’s rank is given. Respect for one’s character must be earned. They are hardly one and the same.”
A moment later they arrived at the house, and Darcy assisted his aunt from the carriage. At the door, she paused to straighten her gown. Pressing her hand to her stomach, she took a fortifying breath, then nodded to her nephew, who knocked upon the door with a firm hand.
They were admitted by a harried-looking maid, who showed them into the drawing room, then hurried off and promptly shut the door.
No one was about except Mrs Lawrence, who greeted them with a curtsey and a wry turn of her mouth.
“I am afraid there is much excitement to be had on Gracechurch Street this evening, Mr Darcy. Mrs Wickham arrived not twenty minutes ago in a fit of pique. Apparently, she has lost her husband.”
Darcy’s brows rose to his hairline. “Lost him?” he repeated. “As in he has expired?”
“I hardly know, sir. The way Mrs Wickham tells the story, it sounds as though her husband has simply misplaced himself somewhere. She is insistent that he has lost his way. He has not been home now for three days, not even to sleep, but Mrs Wickham has apparently thought nothing of it until now. She plans on attending an assembly this evening, you see, and requires an escort so she will have someone to dance the first set with her. She is quite put out.”
“Goodness,” said Lady Carlisle with some distress. “The scoundrel has most likely run off and left her!”
Mrs Lawrence agreed. “Are you at all acquainted with Mr Wickham, Lady Carlisle?”
“Certainly not, Mrs Lawrence,” she said with a haughty sniff, “though I am quite familiar with his dissolute habits from his youth. He was positively wild during his formative years and caused Darcy much trouble throughout their time at university as well. I can hardly believe he was permitted to marry one of Miss Bennet’s sisters, nor can I imagine any lady of sense accepting him! ”
Mrs Lawrence grinned. “Then you are clearly not acquainted with Mrs Wickham either. While Miss Bennet is the epitome of good sense, Mrs Wickham revolts against the very idea of its existence. Two more different sisters you will never meet.”
Darcy rubbed his forehead with his hand. “Perhaps we should go. I would not wish to importune the Gardiners at such a time.”
“Really, Nephew,” Lady Carlisle exclaimed.
“Surely, you are not thinking of abandoning your future family at such a time. I daresay they would appreciate your assistance in the matter. If anyone can find Mrs Wickham’s worthless husband, it would be you.
Go, find your Miss Bennet, and offer your assistance to her poor sister.
I shall remain here with Mrs Lawrence in the meantime, and we shall call for some tea.
If I remember correctly, Mrs Lawrence, you prefer a spot of brandy in yours, do you not? ”
“Oh, yes! That is just the thing, your ladyship. Mr Darcy, do be a dear and order a pot of tea, will you? We would be indebted to you.”
Though he would have preferred to remove his aunt from the house altogether—more for the Gardiners’ sake than for hers—Lady Carlisle appeared entirely disinclined to oblige him.
He found it ironic that a woman who had turned her nose up at the very idea of visiting Cheapside was now adamant about remaining.
“Of course,” he said equitably. “I am your servant, madam.”
“And some brandy, Nephew,” she added. “Do not forget the brandy!”
“Certainly not,” he muttered. “I shall in all likelihood have need of some myself.”
As he made his way towards the door, he heard Mrs Lawrence say confidentially to his aunt, “I do hope Mrs Wickham does not have to get a divorce.”
“I am getting a divorce,” said Lady Carlisle matter-of-factly. “My husband is a philanderer and keeps enough mistresses to fill a stable.”
Darcy exhaled heavily and shut his eyes.