“Hesaidwhat?”ColonelFitzwilliam, seated at last in solitude with Bingley in the Netherfield library, lurched to his feet in fury.
Bingley lounged patiently. He had expected such a reaction, which was why he had forced the colonel to wait for an explanation of Darcy’s unaccounted behaviour. Georgiana must not be present for this discussion, and it had obviously distressed her earlier in the day to be parted from both her brother and her cousin at once. At last, she had retired for a time, and he had pulled the colonel aside.
Fitzwilliam had begun to pace in agitation. Snatches of his voice carried to Bingley as the man moved briskly about the room, the growled tones biting out the colonel’s opinions of Wickham’s parentage and how decorative he might look with his head on a pike. With abrupt ferocity, he stopped and spun toward Bingley. “What has been done to clear Georgiana’s reputation?” he snapped.
“You did it yourself by arriving at such a convenient moment. I expect that… uh… the conversation with Darcy was overheard.” Bingley wrinkled his nose in faint displeasure. He adored his angel, though her family did trouble him somewhat. In this instance, however, Darcy had exploited the mother and younger sisters’ weaknesses with precision.
Fitzwilliam was not satisfied. He resumed his pacing, shooting occasional sceptical glares at Bingley. Bingley sighed at last and spread his hands supplicatingly. “Darcy told me all about Wickham. I wish to protect Miss Darcy as well. He has gone to London to track the blackguard down; it seems one of the local minor heiresses may have fallen prey to his wiles. That is why he desired you to remain—not only to protect Miss Darcy but to prove that he trusted you with her even while he was away.”
Fitzwilliam stopped and stared vacantly out the window in silence, chewing his inner cheeks in frustration. He could have been of much use to Darcy in searching out Wickham, but that was not an option now. Georgiana’s immediate safety, and by extension, the safety of her reputation, had been assigned to him.
Another sigh from Bingley drew his attention back. Fitzwilliam sharpened his gaze on the other man. “Is there more?”
“Caroline tried to come back.”
It took Fitzwilliam a moment to recover from that shock. Not her! “Come back, how do you mean?”
“It seems she rallied some person of influence from London to come with her, and they tried to gain entry to the house while we were away. Dawson managed to repel them, but I do not know who the other woman was, nor where they have gone to.” Bingley creased his brow in some confusion. “He also said Collins was with her! I believe he must have made some mistake. Caroline would never travel with that man!”
Fitzwilliam fisted his hands on his hips, an expression of horror mingled with amusement dawning. “Collins, you say? Isn’t he that parson cousin of the Bennets’? I know who the other lady was, and she will be more trouble than two of your sister!”
Darcysentahastydispatch to his uncle. He considered sending an express to Bingley and Fitzwilliam, but it was likely, he thought in frustration, that the pair had already borne a visit from his aunt. Lady Catherine had some particular fascination for Georgiana and would try to browbeat the girl into standing with her against his marriage to Elizabeth. Fitzwilliam would never hear of her even visiting Georgiana under the circumstances, but his aunt would certainly have made her presence known.
He sent a letter to his solicitor, called for a fresh horse to be saddled, and donned a clean set of travelling clothes. Wickham would have to wait. Elizabeth was more important.
He wondered in some amazement at the involvement of Caroline Bingley. He could well imagine what had led to that particular alliance, and it pleased him not in the slightest. He worried for what damage the pair could do to his plans for happiness at last. How would they work on Elizabeth without him there to shield her? Bold confrontation was his aunt’s style, but certainly not the limit of her ingenuity. He knew well that Elizabeth would indignantly thwart any open attempt to overthrow her, but he hated that he had left her unguarded against his aunt’s more pernicious wiles. He began composing an apology in his head for when he saw her next.
Mrs Nelson, upon learning that the master had returned, had scrambled to oversee a fitting meal prepared for him. Great was her consternation when he informed her he had no intention of staying long enough to enjoy it. She shoved her hands into her motherly hips and fixed him with that stare she had once used on the wayward boy. “Master, sir, you will plumb wear yourself out! No food, no rest! But that’s the way of you heedless young men these days!”
Darcy broke into a wide grin, shaking his head in cheerful surrender. Less than a handful of his father’s old staff ventured the authority to speak so to the boy they had watched grow to manhood. His father had advised him on his deathbed to always give rein to his trusted old housekeepers and butlers. None of them ever dared abuse that privilege, so he always took it to heart when they spoke.
Mrs Nelson clucked over him while he took a few hurried bites from a tray, not even sitting down. “You will give yourself the stomachache, you will!” she predicted dolefully.
His cheeks dimpled disarmingly as he swallowed a mouthful of bread and cheese. “You can cease worrying about me, Mrs Nelson. I shall soon have another to do it for me.”
The woman’s eyes lit up. “Heaven and saints bless us!” Shyly, a little uncertainly, she ventured, “Would it be fitting to know the young lady’s name just yet?”
Darcy offered a bashful smile to his old housekeeper, and if she had been less than the perfect professional she was, he doubted not that she would have been patting his face in praise. “Miss Elizabeth Bennet. You will not have heard of her; she is not of theton.”
As it happened, Mrs Nelsonhadheard a few whispered references to that name, but she was content to allow the master to think otherwise. Though her face glowed, she murmured the proper deferences expected when one’s employer announced there was to be a new mistress.
Feeling all the more awkward, Darcy promised Mrs Nelson that he would manage to finish the remainder of his meal without supervision. She bustled off with a new vigour enlivening her ageing bones. He calculated that within a quarter of an hour, his entire staff would know of his betrothal, and half the maids would be scouring the future mistress’ chambers, left untouched for so many years. In two more days, Mrs Reynolds would no doubt be subjecting Pemberley to the same treatment. Darcy felt his chest swell hugely as he choked down the last of his sustenance for the road.
Only minutes before he would have set out, Drake himself ushered in a red-faced messenger in a sopping wet uniform. “Pardon the interruption, sir, but I believed you would wish to speak to this young man yourself.”
Darcy handed back the fresh greatcoat he had been about to don and turned to the young enlistee with curiosity. “What can I do for you?” he asked brusquely, but not unkindly.
“Message from Colonel Forster, sir.” The lad handed him a pressed parchment, preserved from the rain in an oilskin.
Darcy took it and read briefly. The words caused him to pinch his lips thoughtfully. “What are your orders?” he asked the young man.
The red-coat came to attention. “I am to await a reply and then return directly, sir.”
Darcy glanced to one of the footmen at the door. “Take some refreshment and get warmed before you go, and see that your horse is well baited. If you please, inform the colonel that I intend to call on him in the morning. I shall be just ahead of you on the road.”
Darcy reclaimed his coat and passed by Drake on his way out his own door. “Send another message to the Earl of Matlock for me….”
CarolineBingleyhadremainedas aloof as she possibly could in the Lucas’ drawing-room, hoping to rebuff the patronizing monologue of the master of the house. Fortunately, he stood in such awe of his noble guests that his mouth had remained largely closed while his eyes glazed wide with hopeful docility. Every civility was paid with nauseating distinction.
