The lady’s cane reared itself again. “Pemberley isnothis chief concern! He is to marry Anne. It is all settled. Why, he even agreed to it himself! I will not have him distracting my niece’s affections and allowing himself to be led on by her allurements. He is for Anne!”
“Anne, you say! Can you not find some other fellow in need of a modest fortune for her? There are always such men sniffing about, and if you would only let Anne out of Kent once in a while—”
“You know very well that her health would not endure a Season in London,” the lady snapped. “She must be preserved for childbearing. Iwillsee her wed to my nephew before her head begins to turn grey!” The cane stabbed the air once more for emphasis.
“Put that thing away,” her brother waved in disgust. “You have none to thank for this circumstance but yourself. How many years did you waste chasing Darcy? No man in his senses would risk his own estate on a bride who might never be healthy enough to give him an heir. You should have found some second son for her years ago.”
“And I have done so now!”
The earl placed his hands flat on his hips and leaned forward. “No.”
“You are so determined to have Pemberley’s wealth for your own! I see what you are about, James. You send them practically unchaperoned back to Derbyshire—why, it will be just the thing for you if some disgrace takes place and a wedding must cover it all up! You think to control the estate through your son!”
“No more than you seek to control it through your niece,” the earl huffed. “And I understand they were not at all unchaperoned, but that Georgiana was accompanied by some young ladies of her acquaintance when they returned.”
Lady Catherine threw her hands in the air. “And who are they? Mindless influences secured to serve your interests, naturally!”
“As a matter of fact, I have never met either of them. They were not of theton, but Richard informed his mother that they were young ladies of the highest character, and that Georgiana finds their company encouraging. I have only been returned from France a few days, and I have not yet learned much of their backgrounds. You may be assured that I have made inquiries.”
“Meanwhile, Georgiana has been impressed upon by these chits, and has likely already surrendered to a compromise!”
“Do my son some justice. Pemberley has a chapel—he would have married her first.”
The cane slashed through the air. “Hecannotmarry her, for is engaged to Anne! Now, what do you have to say to that?”
“If he is so,” the earl shrugged, “then you have no cause for concern. Has he ever proved faithless?”
“He is a man, and you have purposely sent a young girl into his sole care. You have led him on, James!”
“Indeed, I have. I do not believe for a moment that he agreed to marry Anne—and, why would he? What man would not prefer Georgiana’s charms to Anne’s, or Pemberley to Rosings? I do my son a kindness in shielding him from your clutches.”
“And what then of Anne? Is she to be left on the shelf?” She rapped her cane on the floor, but as her brother only lifted a brow, she changed tacks. “Do you overlook the influence, the interest that might be gained if Georgiana were to marry into nobility? It was our sister’s wish that both her children would join the estate to the finest families in the kingdom. Georgiana was always destined to marry a lord, that our own family consequence might be better served!”
“I will not lose Pemberley to another family!” the earl bellowed. “Catherine, I have done with you. Go on back to Kent and find another husband for that daughter of yours.”
Lady Catherine’s face puckered into a terrifying scowl. “Then I shall know how to act. I take my leave of you, James Fitzwilliam! I give no compliments to your wife; you are beneath my notice!” She whirled in a swish of black crepe, her cane gesturing vehemently for her footman to attend her to her carriage.
The earl spun away in a rage, his hand sweeping an array of curios and notepaper from his desk. “Confound the woman!” he roared to no one in particular. He drew back his hand in another display of temper, but stopped short of his inkwell and pen. He pursed his lips as inspiration struck, and quickly slid into his chair to follow where it may lead.
“Duncan!” he called a moment later. When the man appeared, Matlock extended the folded missive with a shaking hand. “I wish to have this announcement run in tomorrow’s papers. Will you see to it, please? And send someone for her ladyship. She will wish to hear that her son is to be married.”
London
Darcystood,quiveringandanxious, at the bow of the ship as it drew majestically up the Thames. He closed his eyes and drew deep, luxuriant breaths of loamy English air. Never again would he slight the fetid aroma from the riverbanks, the unsightly vista of slums cobbled together near the water, or the rough, spittle-laden dialect of the lower ranks of sailors. Each was as dear and precious and marvelously familiar as the sparkling cliffs of Dover, and now made far more unforgettable by their pervasive nearness. Darcy drank it all in, filling his lungs and throwing back his head in exultant triumph. He washome.
A number of passengers were milling about him now, each jockeying for a view of the shore. Some were waving to a sweetheart on the docks, others trying to secure the services of a porter to take their luggage before that of the other passengers. Darcy lowered the crown of his hat and withdrew, content to be unseen among the throng. His beard was now long enough to tuck into the coarse scarf given him by the Portuguese army captain, and he took some comfort from the combined shielding effect over his face. In less than an hour from now, he would have the luxury of disappearing wherever he pleased.
Where that place was… he sighed and hunched his shoulders still further. He longed to race to his house in Grosvenor Square to hear word of Georgiana and even embrace the dear girl if she were there, but perhaps that must be done with some circumspection. Such a shock he must give her! She would have borne more grief and hardship than any other, and though physically strong, she carried some trace of their mother’s emotive frailty. Better that someone she trusted should first tell her that he had come back from the dead, even if it meant leaving London without attempting to see her.
He might go to his Fitzwilliam relations, but the hair stood on the back of his neck each time he thought of them. Surely it was all an irrational fancy, a baseless fear, but too much unease troubled him still. He set his teeth and determined that he would carry out his prior resolve, to go to Hertfordshire. There, surely Bingley had resumed his abode and likely married, if he knew the man at all. He could secure his friend’s assistance in reestablishing himself, learn something of his sister’s circumstances, and—most urgently of all—discover whether the hope of love that had grounded him to sanity might ever truly be his.
His chest convulsed in a great, palpitating ache. He was so close! Elizabeth had for months remained his one bulwark against despair, so much so that she had almost taken an ethereal place in his heart. In her, he hoped to find the lover and comforter who could face his trials beside him and soothe his fears when they threatened to smother him.Yes, he assured himself, as he at long length strode down the plank to sweet English soil once more.I must see her!
Surely, too, it was better to avoid any London contacts just yet, which extended—most mortifyingly—to his personal servants. The clothes on his back were his only vestment and were once again in need of laundering. He carried no luggage save a small bag given him by Noronha for appearance’s sake. As a consequence, he needed tip no porter nor wait on any man, so he rounded his shoulders and walked as briskly from the ship as he could, carrying his own small satchel like a common tradesman.
As Darcy walked alone from the port, fleeing the press of humanity all about, he found himself on Thames Street. There he stopped, glancing about for some familiar landmark and finding none. He wandered a block or two in each direction, seeing only thriving commercial buildings and men transacting business—nothing and no one he could recognise. It was not, he realised, so simple as he had once thought it might be to make his way through London on foot. There was still in his purse a quantity of coins—and once again, he made note to somehow repay that brave Portuguese girl and her brother. Jingling the purse nervously, he weighed it and raised his hand to hire a chair to take him to the nearest post station.
Just as he had lifted it, a private carriage blocked his path, stopping to let its passenger down on the street. Darcy gaped, his whole body alive and tingling. Was that… why, yes, it was! Edward Gardiner, that blessed man who had brought his Elizabeth to Derbyshire, stepped from the coach. What serendipity could have brought him directly to one of the most trustworthy men of his acquaintance, just when he desperately needed such a friend?
