Chapter 23
Chapter 23
Elizabeth headed towards their suite of chambers, attempting to shake off her annoyance at being accosted by Lord Beresford. She was anxious to talk to her husband, as she could not wait a moment more to tell him that she wanted their courtship to end and... their married life to begin in its truest sense.
Her steps slowed as she rounded the corridor that housed their chambers. I hope he can forgive my irrational suspicions and cruel words. She anxiously bit her lip even as her mind registered the sound of a door closing in the passage.
Oh, my love, if only I could find the right words to express my thoughts, she prayed, feeling impatient once more to speak with him. But before she could take a step forward, the door to Mr Darcy’s bedroom opened, and the shrew stepped out of it.
What was she doing in Fitzwilliam’s room? Elizabeth stood staring at the interloper in shocked confusion. The next instant, the door to the chamber opposite theirs opened, and Mrs Worthing dashed out, only to come to a sudden halt when she spotted Letitia Hawkins.
“What are you doing, Letty? You told me you wanted to end your dalliance with Darcy!” Although Mrs Worthing screeched loudly enough to wake the dead, Elizabeth felt a strange lethargy hold her in its grips as she grasped the meaning of the other woman’s words.
In a daze, she heard Lady Stalbridge laugh and say, “Oh, I am trying to do so, Amarylis, because Lawrence is getting suspicious. But Darcy does not want it to end. Did you see how he pretended to insult me at Lady Matlock’s ball, hoping to pre-empt any rumours from reaching my husband or his wi…. Oh, Mrs Darcy! Wh…what are you doing here?”
The woman stopped speaking abruptly and made a great show of tucking her hair behind her ear, abashedly. Her hair was falling out of her bun, and her bodice was askew, displaying her luscious charms more brazenly than normal, if that was even possible.
Elizabeth stared at the woman while feeling a giant fist squeeze painfully at her heart. Was Fitzwilliam really pretending to dislike this vile woman? she wondered as she helplessly took in every detail of Lady Stalbridge’s dishevelled appearance before glancing away in distress.
Something here is not quite right. Her mind whispered cautiously even as her heart cried out in agony: How could Fitzwilliam do this to me?
And the response was swift and unequivocal—he could not, he would not!
The honourable man she had so desperately fallen in love with—a man who said what he did to Lord Stanhope—would never dishonour his vows. Nor would he betray his friend by having an affair with his wife.
How could I have been such a fool to get bogged down by doubts due to someone else’s misfortune? How could I forget that Fitzwilliam wanted us to strive for a marriage of true felicity from the moment he asked me to marry him? The realisation brought an immediate sense of calm to her soul, and the knot of anguish that had lodged in her throat since spying Lady Stalbridge loosened itself.
A sly inner voice contrarily persisted. Are you certain, Lizzy? Just look at the hussy in front of you! What red-blooded man could resist her?
Elizabeth returned her gaze to the dishevelled woman, observing that the shrew had made no attempt to set right her appearance. She suddenly realised what had been bothering her about the incongruous image presented by Lady Stalbridge, and she smiled to herself.
∞∞∞
Letitia Hawkins mistakenly assumed her strategy was successful based on the initial stricken look on Mrs Darcy’s countenance and the long, awkward silence that followed. Feeling triumphant, she nodded imperceptibly to her friend, and Mrs Worthing immediately sprang into action.
Approaching Elizabeth with an outstretched arm, she babbled, “Oh, Mrs Darcy! I am so sorry you heard what you did! I wish you had arrived a few minutes later. But I am certain that, like my dear mother, yours too would have advised you on how men of the world, such as your husband, conduct themselves, and how it is our lot as wives to pretend ignorance of such indiscretions. Unfortunately, this is what polite society expects of a well-bred woman.”
Mrs Worthing smiled in a sympathetic manner and patted Elizabeth’s arm. “Please come to my room for a cup of hot tea and wait until your very natural urge to confront Mr Darcy dies down. I can promise you all this gets easier subsequently.”
For one moment, Elizabeth could only stare at the other woman in disbelief. The sheer temerity of the woman! She huffed and pulled her arm away from Mrs Worthing’s cloying grip. She was angry for herself, but her primary emotion was that of outrage on her husband’s behalf. Despite the evidence of her own eyes, she found it difficult to give credence to what the two women in front of her were trying to portray. Fitzwilliam would never behave in such a depraved manner. She stood a little straighter at the thought.
“I am not sure what you and Lady Stalbridge are trying to do, Mrs Worthing, but unfortunately for you both, I know my husband rather well.” Although she was addressing Mrs Worthing, she turned to gaze at Letitia Hawkins as she continued, “He is the most honourable and loyal man I know, and he would never… ever be disloyal to either his friend or his wife.”
Elizabeth was pleased to see the smug satisfaction on the other woman’s face waver at her words. It emboldened her to seek confirmation of what she fervently hoped had occurred inside her husband’s room a short while ago.
“What happened, Lady Stalbridge? Did Fitzwilliam throw you out of the room when you attempted to play the seductress?” she enquired coldly, allowing her gaze to wander insolently over the other woman from head to toe.
Letitia Hawkins flushed angrily at the contemptuous look, and her hand instinctively moved to straighten her bodice. Whenever she had tried to envisage the consequences of her mischief, she had not even contemplated the possibility that the rustic country chit might doubt the deceit being played on her. As a result, she now had no idea how to respond to the proud and openly sceptical woman confronting her.
Eventually, she blustered to hide her discomfort, “The shock of facing the truth about your husband seems to have addled your brain, Mrs Darcy, for I do not know what you are blathering about!”
“Do you not, Lady Stalbridge?” Elizabeth raised her brow in challenge. “You might have the morals of a Haymarket ware, my lady, but you would never choose to go around looking like one! Of course, I am not sure how these things work, but I find it difficult to believe that a woman bidding an amiable farewell to her paramour after a tryst would allow herself to step out of his room half naked.”
Lady Stalbridge’s jaw dropped open at the exaggeration, but Elizabeth was too incensed to worry about the niceties at the time.
“Now, please move away from the door. I would like to speak with Fitzwilliam. While I am happy he threw you out of our chambers, I must tell him that I would have been happier still if he had not permitted you to cross its threshold.”
The three ladies in the corridor were so engrossed in their conversation that none of them noticed they had a very interested audience until Darcy suddenly spoke from behind them.
“I believe that you very well know, my dear, that your wish is my command.”
∞∞∞
When Elizabeth heard Darcy’s voice, she whirled around and stared at him in delighted amazement. She barely noticed Lord Beresford, who stood quietly beside her husband.
“I am deeply touched, Elizabeth, to see your faith in me, especially under such questionable circumstances! I would therefore like to assure you that I have never let any riffraff cross the threshold of my bedchamber, nor have I ever crossed theirs. I am hardly likely to start doing so now.”
His meaning was clear, and all Elizabeth could do was stand there and smile foolishly at him. Fitzwilliam was not even present when that horrible woman entered his room! Her heart sang over and over.
While Darcy’s unexpected appearance had thrilled his wife, it had caused significant consternation among the other two women in the hallway. While Lady Stalbridge let out an exasperated cry and banged her hand on the door of the Darcys’ bedchamber, Mrs Worthing addressed Lord Beresford reproachfully, “We asked you to keep Mr Darcy away from here for a little while, my lord!”
“My dear lady, if you must blame someone, please blame Darcy. He did not want to be kept away, especially after his cousin informed him that his wife was looking for him,” Lord Beresford replied carelessly.
Realising that his response was not impressing Mrs Worthing, he continued, “I do not believe you are aware of the fact, but when he was last in London, he—that is, Darcy—in a very un-Darcy-like manner broke Manwaring’s nose in a bout at Jackson’s salon. I have heard it was all because Manwaring spooked Mrs Darcy’s horse by mistake. And, well, to cut a long story short, I am rather fond of my nose.”
As all his audience stared at him in astonished silence, he gave a nervous laugh and added, “I also believe that Lady Stalbridge and Mrs Rhys-Cooper may have their grievances against Darcy, but involving poor Mrs Darcy in it is not very gentlemanly.”
“I am not a gentleman, you fool.” Letitia Hawkins slammed her hand on the Darcys’ door yet again.
Before anybody could respond to this outburst, the bedroom door swung open, and Banes addressed the irate woman, “May I help you, my lady?”
Elizabeth could not help but glance at Darcy at this sudden interruption. Letitia Hawkins had primped herself to play the siren while Banes was somewhere inside their suite! Her amused eyes found her husband’s, and the next instant they both began chuckling.
Lady Stalbridge watched the laughing couple in an impotent rage, and then, with a wail of pure frustration, she flounced away—into Mrs Worthing’s room. That good lady hurriedly followed after her companion.
Lord Beresford, for his part, continued to observe Mr and Mrs Darcy for a while longer. Realising that the couple were hardly aware of anyone but themselves, he too walked away, muttering what a discerning audience would immediately have identified as verse from Robert Burns’s To a Mouse.