Mr Darcy's Mistress Page 7
Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy approached her husband with a determined step.
He was seated at his desk, where Porter, head footman, had said the master was last spied writing correspondence. “Are all your friends prone to fleeting visitations?”
Darcy glanced in her direction then continued with quill to hand, a letter seeming of great importance. “Ah; not in general, and Belle expressed apology, for she had another and somewhat pressing engagement.”
“She rode twelve miles or more and stayed but a moment or two?”
Eyes to the task at hand he expressed a sigh—“I believe she was here a good twenty minutes all told, in hope of making your acquaintance.”
“I had no knowledge of the lady’s presence until your sister kindly stopped by the guest chamber to introduce herself to Lydia.”
Without raising his head, he asked: “How is your sister after her ordeal?”
“A little less in distress, and taking rest. She is, however, uncertain she has come to the right place in seeking sympathy and favour, when quite aware she is as guilty as Wickham for reckless indulgences.”
“How so?”
“She is adamant Wickham is a changed man, and it is she who has brought about their disastrous circumstances.”
Darcy snorted with distinct disdain. “And you believe her?”
“To an extent, yes, I do.”
He swung round in his seat, one eyebrow arced, incredulity etched on his visage. “Go on; enlighten me.”
“She has never understood the rudiments of managing monies, in part because mother would oft stretch her own allowance to accommodate Lydia’s extravagant notions.”
“Are not most mothers prone to indulge their daughters?”
“Perhaps that is so but I would hope with sense of fairness, for Kitty was never as fortunate as Lydia in escaping chastisement, whilst Mary rarely gave store to fashionable attire.”
“So your mother was at fault in obliging the girl and slack on reprimand, thus Lydia has no sense in monetary matters and little else besides?”
“Yes.”
“Then send her to the study on the morrow at ten of the clock. She can pay witness to my housekeeper, who will be reviewing the account legers for this household’s expenditure for the past month. Therefore, Mrs. Reynolds will be placing invoices aside for Mr. Levenson, the estate steward, who will fill in the required amount to bank promissory notes, of which I will be here to add my signature. The smaller bills will require coin, which Lydia can put up and learn that all items and services must be paid for no matter how little the amount thus due. Such activity will be beneficial, will it not?”
“I fear the expenditure in this house will give rise to envy as opposed to life on Wickham’s pay. In her estimation his pay is paltry at ten shillings and sixpence a day for a captain with no private means at his disposal. She also swears he is a changed man, and has ceased gambling.”
“Is she of mind I should provide an allowance for the damnable fellow, when he has had far more than my father set aside for the wastrel?”
“I fear her head was so full of dreams and empty promises when she eloped. Now, the life of a soldier with no other means but the King’s shillings to provide for them, she has realised her foolish choice is so very different than imagined. She pretends it is wonderful by making it so at Wickham’s expense. She is adamant he gave her the larger share of his last month’s pay before he was dispatched south to London. Nonetheless, whilst he was gone a young lieutenant has replenished her supplies at his own expense. It was the kindly lieutenant who paid for her journey on the mail, therefore, I am of mind she had more than enough monies to pay rent and provide for self until Wickham’s return. It was all squandered on fripperies, inclusive—”
Darcy suddenly waved his hand and turned back to his letter. “Ha, you sent her money. Well I shall not scold you; for I would like as not have done the very same if asked, though no doubt would have delivered it in person to ascertain her sorry state and thereby decided what needed to be done.”
“Done?”
“Bring her here in the first instance if necessary, and then return her to the care of Mr. Bennet.”
“But—”
“You assumed I would heartily disapprove of funding Wickham’s wife, and in that you are correct. But Lydia is your family, therefore she is my family.” He thrust his quill to the quill stand, raised the letter and lay it to rest in the sand tray, and as he sprinkled it with sand he continued: “Whilst I care not what becomes of Captain George Wickham, if she is correct, and he has turned his life around and genuinely cares for her then he will in due course collect his wife from wherever she may be.”
“Nevertheless, you have your doubts on that outcome.”
“And you not?” said he, tapping the letter free of sand, and then folding it in precise manner.
“She is with child, and I do wonder if Wickham is truly in love with her. Not in the early days of their flirtations, but has since succumbed.”
“I did notice her condition, and if Wickham is as you believe, then he will no doubt be distraught on discovery of her disappearance.”
“And if he comes here, seeking her whereabouts?”
“No one will be more surprised than me. I trust Lydia had the good sense to inform the lieutenant as to where she intended seeking sanctuary?”
“She left in rather a rush, so perhaps not.”
“Then the sooner she writes a missive to the good lieutenant informing of where she is at present, and where she will be in due course, would be most advisable. I feel sure Bingley and your sister will gladly convey Lydia to Longbourn when they take their leave from Pemberley.”
“Yes, yes, of course they will, and I shall go to her now and recommend a missive be ready for the post by morn. If nothing else it will inform the kindly lieutenant of her safe arrival.”
“Is this a person I need to reimburse do you think?”
“According to Lydia, the lieutenant has a private allowance. Of some worth it would seem, if his contribution to her household expenditure and costing of the mail coach can be judged as more than his army pay could manage. Aside from which he paid a carter to remove hers and Wickham’s belongings to his quarters for storage.”
“A trusted friend by all accounts.”
“Had Lydia met him before Wickham, she would be better cared for, methinks.”
“Bingley was of mind another lieutenant of militia was the candidate for her affections prior to Wickham’s sudden interest?”
“Denny? Yes, we all did, and I think mother was quite convinced he was Lydia’s intended. I do wonder what Denny must have thought when she and Wickham eloped, though we shall never know of course. I suppose your purchase of a captaincy in the regulars for Wickham thus became the parting of the ways for Lieutenant Denny and himself. Lydia never refers to her former love interest, nor has there been mention of correspondence between the two men.”
“Regimental young soldiers oft have pressing duties to occupy their otherwise fanciful notions, as has Wickham no doubt from within a regular regiment. Perhaps it will be the making of him, unlike his time in the militia. The young militia officers seemingly idle more time within assembly rooms and gambling dens, than attending to military and judicial matters. Aside from which, you Bennet girls were a fickle bunch in where your affections strayed, barring Jane who was true to Bingley from the moment of setting eyes on him.”
How dare he say that, when his affections for Belle superseded those of his wife when it suited him? “Are men any less fickle in where affections dwell at given times, and more than is good for a great many marriages?”
“If you are referring to our late ducal neighbour, and others of his ilk, then I agree with your sentiments.”
The duke had not entered her thoughts. “Could it not be construed by others; your affiliation with Lady Sanders is more than mere neighbourliness and friendship?”
He looked aghast and then chuckled. “It would require considerable i
magination to presume such an alliance as improper.”
“Do you seriously assume you are above suspicion of romantic entanglements, for there must have been neighbours who expected a happy nuptial outcome?”
“I dare say, in the past when we were exceedingly young and witnessed out and about in company with other of our friends. Yes, it is more than probable wagers were laid on who would wed whomever. Aside from all else, my visitations to Farthingly rarely invite interest from animals en route, or that of the occasional farm labourers. Such is the advantage of riding across country and along byways. On the other hand, if I were to ride through villages and hamlets along the conventional carriage routes, and with sense of regularity, then I dare say there would be occasions of wonder at my frequent excursions and ponderous thoughts on something amiss, rather than assumptions to the notion of romantic trysts.”
“Why has Lady Sanders remained unmarried?”
“That is a question I would never ask of any lady,” replied he, once again inclined to his desk with letter to hand.
“Quite; but it would be most unusual if there are no admirers within her social circle.”
Be assured there is one, an earl, and has lately come to Derbyshire as a guest of the young Duke of Devonshire.”
“You sound as though you thoroughly disapprove of the man?”
“I have no acquaintance with the fellow and doubt our paths will cross,” said he, in reaching for a quill in readiness to write address. “Abiding desire to pay court at Chatsworth is a thing of the past.”
“I will leave you to your correspondence,” said she, feeling light of heart and reassured Belle most definitely had an admirer. “Then let us hope for a happy outcome for Lady Sanders.”
“I doubt it,” a decided retort.
With that said, she hastened from the study, as unsure as before whether Darcy and Belle were deeply committed one to the other.
Aware of his wife’s hastened retreat he abandoned his writing, and sat back in his chair. Was it possible Belle was indeed infatuated with the earl? She had spoken of him a great deal, not to mention the fact the supposedly dashing fellow had called by and displayed great interest in all her undertakings with equines. The main objective of the damn fellow’s visit was to view a colt, and of course he was a widower with two children, thus no doubt seeking a wife on his travels. According to Belle he was quite enamoured with Bonnie, though made no enquiry as to her parentage, and declined farther interest when Georgiana appeared. There was no denying on his last visit to Farthingly his sister had spoken well of the earl, his age she had wagered as perhaps near to forty years. To all intents and purposes the man was of considerable handsomeness with a defined sparkle to eyes, of fashionable dress, and courtly manners. Georgiana had further confessed she had sensed no interest in her as a prospective bride, and thanked the lord for that, for she had no inclination toward a man who was a close associate of the duke.
At least Georgiana had learned a hard lesson from her experience with Wickham, but Belle was of a passionate nature given to intense sense of awareness to others, and to self. If she were to fall in love nothing would restrain her, not if she was sure she could trust another as she trusted Fitzwilliam Darcy. And yet, she had, on a day of rashness for his own part, refused his offer of marriage, and with laughter and joyous declaration to the effect she would always love her Darcy but would never wed him. Would she refuse this earl in like manner?
Life without Belle would be a turning point, just as his marriage to Elizabeth had marked a change in Belle’s attitude to the one thing that had bound them together: Bonnie. He would never know the answer to the one question that had whirled in his head for five years– would Belle have said yes had he asked for her hand the day Bonnie was born? Her adamant proclamation no man, not even he, could rear Bonnie as she could, had deterred him from pressing charge Bonnie was as much his as hers. Belle knew him better than most people, better than his own sister, and damn his sorry hide, she had known he would give sway and step back if she held her ground. Now at age five years Bonnie would be coming to Pemberley, and Belle was keen for Elizabeth to become acquainted with her as soon as possible.
Therein lay the dilemma, for would Elizabeth accept and treasure Bonnie as did he, and could the two become companionable when need be?
Eight
~
Just after eleven of morn Bingley’s carriage was spotted on approach and Lydia squealed with delight, and equal in bursting with joy Elizabeth took flight from the upper rear drawing room window. “Wait for me, wait for me,” yelled Lydia, desperate in slipping feet to abandoned slippers. “She’s my sister, too.”
But Elizabeth faltered not in step, and out in the corridor she lost all sense of restrained ladylike deportment by upping her skirts and running to the head of the stairway. Darcy emerged from his study and near collided with Lydia, who again exploded with uncontrolled excitement. “It’s Jane and Bingley. They’re here, they’re here,” said she, twirling about to catch his arm in hers. “How wonderful it all is and we shall have such fun with Lizzy’s birthday five days hence.”
“In five days?”
Dragged along by her enthusiasm, soon all three were outside awaiting the carriage as the coachman brought the team around in a wide sweep and to a final standstill at the foot of the steps. With waves from the newly arrived and laughter ringing out, Elizabeth dashed forward, Darcy on her heels who immediately said: “Let me,” hence, before the groom could alight the carriage door was opened, Bingley leapt forth, Jane came next.
As the two men stepped aside so Jane and Elizabeth embraced, and Lydia embraced both and with exuberance, declared: “Lord, how good it is to see you, dear sister.”
“Indeed it is,” said Elizabeth, overwhelmed by emotions she never thought to experience. “You cannot know how it pleases me to have you come and stay here.”
Jane, tears noticeably welling as each sister assessed the other, said: “I have no words to express what I feel.”
“Oh I do,” said Lydia, clearly ecstatic. “We love our men but sisters are very special.”
“Yes, there is that,” said Jane, in placing a kiss to Lydia’s cheek and darting a quick glance at Bingley and Darcy deep in discourse. “I had not expected to see you; and here you are, and goodness—”
“Isn’t it the most terrible thing, a swollen belly? I feel so ugly and unlovable,” declared Lydia, looking down at a bump that indeed pronounced to all she was with child.
Elizabeth drew breath, at the same time in wont to empty her stomach on the carriageway and strangle her youngest sister as well, which did not bode well in the circumstance of feeling light headed. It was not the best of moments, thus she turned her attention to Jane. “Shall we retire inside?”
“Yes, lets,” said Lydia, hastening up the steps and there awaiting them by the door, “We all have so much to talk about.”
Jane paused and glanced at the house for a moment. “It’s quite as I expected, Lizzy, albeit somewhat remote.” She then turned, and voice lowered. “Is it bad, or manageable? Believe me; it will pass, as mine has.”
“So soon?”
Jane’s colour ripened. “I do feel guilty, for mother deduced as much and extended the oddest look toward Bingley. She winked at me and father ventured as to whether she had something in her eye; as is her wont when indulging supposed subtle communication, and of course neither of us dared mention the why of it. It was most embarrassing.”
Elizabeth linked her arm in Jane’s. “Who would have thought it of Bingley? But passions aside, is marriage all that you expected?”
“Oh it is, and more. I could not be happier.”
“Come on you two.” Lydia heaved an enormous sigh. “Must you always dally so?”
They followed her path, their husbands likewise falling in behind at a stroll. All the while Porter and a younger footman were assisting the groom in removal of trunks and travelling valises from the carriage.
Upon entry to
the grand salon Jane’s expression matched that of Lydia’s on arrival, though the happy circumstance of today’s event was markedly different. “We had a wonderful journey despite the changeable weather,” said Jane, in removal of her bonnet. “There was intermittent rain and sunshine, and we were thankfully spared buffeting winds over high ground. I do find it a little disconcerting when the carriage rocks sideways as well as back and forth on rough highways.”
The pretty maid, Rayle, whom Elizabeth rather liked, the girl duly hovering attendance, suddenly curtseyed and stepped forward to relieve Jane of her bonnet and assist with her pelisse.
“Well what do think of Pemberley?” asked Lydia. “It’s every bit as mother surmised it would be given her opinion of Darcy at the outset, and oh how I would love to be mistress of this house.”
“I dare say you would,” said Jane, “and is Wickham well?”
“Captain Wickham,” said Lydia, in chiding tone though smiles aplenty. “And well enough I shouldn’t wonder.”
The maid curtseyed again and made toward Bingley, who spying the pretty little thing proffered a kindly smile and handed her his light grey topper.
As Rayle hastened away, so Porter, the groom and the under-footman proceeded to place the travelling luggage within the reception salon. Therefore it was time to ascend to the upper drawing room. “Come, we had better lead off, else Darcy will become impatient for coffee.”
Thus, leading the way Lydia ascended the grand stairway at a near run. “She looks well, all things considered,” said Jane, her eyes fixed on their younger sister.
“She does, though whether all is well with her and Wickham has yet to be determined.”
“That is not the best of news, and accounts for why she is here, one presumes.”
Lydia swung round at the head of stairs, part breathless. “What are you whispering about, now? Me, no doubt, and how silly I am.”
“Oh not unkindly,” said Jane. “I marked how well you look, and if I look half as well as you in the months to come I shall be most pleased.”
Lydia’s eyes sparkled. “Oh Lord. Do you mean to tell, you’re with child too?”