“I cannot imagine you shaming anyone.”
She struggled to hide her smile. “But you are not a mother attempting to marry off her five daughters. We girls were not obliged to household chores for my mother feared it would diminish our luster to a man of high standing. Andeven then, the only interested party was Mr. Collins.” She cocked her head and smiled up at Mr. Fitzroy. “In the winter, our maid would discover me at Lucas Lodge. There, my dear friend Charlotte and I would sit in the kitchen and listen to their cook, Mrs. Marks, who had come over from Ireland. She would tell us stories of her homeland and the myth of St. Patrick. But, even better, she taught us how to bake: soda bread, biscuits, cakes. Eating too many pastries slathered with fresh cream, Charlotte and I would make ourselves sick.”
“And Mrs. Bennet did not approve?”
Elizabeth laughed at her memories. “Had my sister Jane, or even Lydia, found their way into Charlotte’s kitchen, I am certain her acceptance of this pastime would have been considered quaint. However, she was not keen on her second eldest daughter discrediting her place in society by enjoying kitchen work. Once again, you can see how her fears have not held weight with our comparative prospects.”
They crossed over a bridge before he replied, “And your other sisters? You do not share the same interests?”
“My other sisters? Oh no, sir. My youngest Lydia and then Catherine, or Kitty, who is just a year older, has no time for walks, books, or baking. Their heads are filled with officers as, much to my mother’s satisfaction, the militia has just been quartered in Meryton.”
“You are not excited by the sight of a red coat?” he asked, reaching up to pluck a leaf from an overhanging branch.
“I dare say, it is pleasant to have so many new faces nearby, but these officers go against everything my mother has ever wanted for us. They are young and struggling to live off of their pay. How could their circumstances ever encourage felicity in a marriage with so little prospect?”
Darcy’s brows rose at her pronouncement. “That sounds quite mercenary.”
She felt her cheeks coloring as she formulated a response to his teasing. “It is not mercenary, sir. It is rational. I once believed that only the strongest love would induce me to matrimony. Yet, with the circumstances of my Jane…I see that I might not have all the choices to guarantee my felicity in life. Therefore, I will not lose my heart to just anyone but will take care to lose it to a man who can provide well for me.” She paused before continuing. “Charlotte once said that ‘happiness in marriage is entirely a matter of chance.’ I do not wholly believe that to be true, but imagine if a man of good breeding and intellect were to present himself to me and was in possession of three thousand a year, I might allow my heart to be touched.”
“Even if there was no love?”
“I do not wish to risk the same fate as my dearest sister by the hands of our parents. No, a woman’s chances are too uncertain for objection but also too precarious to be picky. You see, Mr. Fitzroy? Another good reason you have been blessed to be born who you are—the master of Pembrook in Salisbury.”
“Yes, well…”
They continued their walk, taking in all around them when Elizabeth said quietly, “If I may…I am concerned about something I overheard Mr. Wickham say before you came upon me.”
He stopped and turned to face her. “Did he accost you?”
She blushed for his concern. “No, he was not aware of my presence.”
“Miss Elizabeth,” he said with great feeling, “know that if he ever hurts you, it will be the last thing he ever does on this earth.”
She was taken aback by his declaration. “Sir, I thank you. Mr. Wickham’s attentions are… But your presence has been a relief. This morning, I walked farther than I ought, and I should have brought a maid. I am only grateful it was you who came upon me.”
Mr. Fitzroy clenched his jaw and inhaled deeply before replying. “I have known of the man for many years and have witnessed the trail of his destruction. He is a man without conscience, and you should always regard him as such.”
“Of that, I assure you I do.”
“Good.”
Attempting to calm the fluttering in her heart, she said, “But I am concerned with Wickham’s intentions towardyou. I overheard him say that you suspect nothing. I am uncertain of his meaning, but I know he does not take kindly to those he believes are at cross purposes with him.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled as he looked at the canopy of trees above them, a smile on his lips. “I can only hope that he is attempting some ill-conceived scheme,” he said almost to himself. “Then I could do something I should have in another lifetime!”
The high back chair was overturned, and the candlesticks from the nightstand rested on the floor by the window. Shattered in the fireplace, a sherry glass, indicating her mother had once again contemplated their current house guests. The woman herself was slumped across the divan, sleeping off the most recent effects of imbibing too heavily.Anne de Bourgh shook her head with resignation.What has become of our world? A world where George Wickham acts as master of Rosings? This is a nightmare.But she could not change matters. She was not yet thirty, and according to her father’s will, until that time, her mother was the mistress ofherestate.My estate that she is running into the ground at every possible whim of that man!
She closed the door behind her and moved down the corridor, past the master’s suite, which he now occupied.That he would demand my father’s room! Then relegate Georgiana to a room further down the family wing?Walking through her own bedroom door and locking it behind her, she removed her gloves and waited for her maid to assist her with her half boots.
Anne could not discern why with such a hatred for Wickham, her mother had willingly accepted his match with Georgiana.Especially since it was rooted in such deception.The open defiance toward her brother, the Earl of Matlock, had caused such a rift between the two families no one was left to protect Georgiana.No one but me.
Anne stood at the window and watched Wickham rideherhorse into the stable yard, envisioning her shy young cousin with golden curls who she had played with as a youth.
Handing the reins to the boy, his fists flew, knocking the servant to the ground.Even the help is not safe. And there is nothing I can do to protect them. My mother bows to all of Wickham’s demands, and I do not know why.
Grabbing a book, she moved to the other window and sat in a chair, looking away from the stables, attempting to find a distraction. Yet, all she could do was stare out across the fields, hoping for a miracle. Then, a movement caught her eye. Mr. Fitzroy was approaching the house from the woods.Darcy. What did my mother mean by calling him Darcy?Studying both his approach and face, a strange sensation came over her. She grabbed her spencer, before heading down to the stables.
“Mr. Fitzroy. Was your ride enjoyable?”
