“What do you imagine I shall do?”
I swallowed another healthy draught of brandy. “You have demonstrated powers that ought to be impossible. You could take advantage of her, scare her, confuse her, or cause her harm.”
Graham’s facial muscles tightened enough to project staidness. “I can understand your concerns. However, I am aware of the expected behaviour in your society. I meant my earlier promise to you. I shall act as a proper gentleman at all times with Elizabeth and will never hurt her in any way.”
At his statement, the tension in my shoulders decreased. I could not be certain whether his word could be trusted, yet what choice did I have? I should be forced to endure his presence until the week’s end.
“Furthermore, I have plans in Lambton for this evening, and I do not expect to return until the morrow.”
I almost smiled at his announcement until a possible explanation for his absence occurred to me: he might be obligated to fulfil an official duty tonight—one of a morbid nature. “Does this mean…is someone in Lambton going to die?”
“Oh no, no. Whilst I am on holiday, I shall not carry out my usual work. Others will act in my stead. I made the acquaintance of a great many ladies this afternoon at the Hound and Hare, and I believe this individual will welcome my company.”
The Hound and Hare? Elizabeth had never mentioned the inn. “Why did you stop there?”
He fluttered his hand in a dismissive style. “We went in for a bit of tea and cake. Elizabeth grew uncomfortable when the ladies present stared at us, so I invited them to join our table.”
“Indeed?”
“Yes.” Graham’s head lolled back. He gazed at the ceiling wearing a foolish grin as though moonstruck. “I met quite a few charming ladies at the inn, but none caught my attention so well as did Mrs. Mead. I knew upon my first sight of her that she would welcome a friend such as me.”
I choked on my sip of brandy and had to cough several times. Mrs. Mead had lost her beloved husband, Mr. Nicholas Mead, in a carriage accident five years ago. Mr. Mead had left his wife heart-broken though not without means—she inherited four thousand pounds and a small farm within the town of Lambton.
Mrs. Mead’s friendship with Elizabeth had begun soon after our marriage, and the two shared a cordial bond. Like many others of the local gentry, the lady often assisted my wife in various charitable projects.
I wiped my mouth with my handkerchief. “Mrs. Mead is a respectable widow. What do you intend to do?”
He adjusted to a straight position, and a significant sheen flickered within his piercing eyes. “I shall not return to my former existence without samplingallthe pleasures that gentlemen enjoy on earth.”
The unconscionable fiend.Fever shot up from my neck. “What you propose to do is barbarous. You will ruin Mrs. Mead’s reputation. And what if she becomes with child?”
“One advantage to my being an angel of death is that I am incapable of making a womanenceinte. If necessary, I shall employ my powers to ensure Mrs. Mead’s reputation remains intact.”
“But if you use your powers to make her agree—”
“That will not happen.” He raised his hand to his chest. “I have no wish to take unfair advantage of her or anyone else. She will consent, without any undue influence from me, or I shall find another who will.” Graham set his empty brandy glass down and stood. The corners of his lips lifted in a sly manner. “You aregallant, Darcy, to express such concern for a lady to whom you have no connexion, but your worry is misplaced. I shall leave Mrs. Mead happier for having met me.”
I pressed my fingers into my nape. “I cannot be comfortable with the idea of your using Mrs. Mead in such a way, no matter how you attempt to justify your actions. What of the promise you made minutes ago to behave as a gentleman?”
“You know very well that most English gentlemen partake of the carnal pleasures as a matter of course. This is an open secret in your society. Now then, I shall take my leave and see you in the morning.” Graham bowed and left the room.
My rapid breaths slowed as his footsteps continued down the main hall towards the front door. Despite my aversion to his intentions for Mrs. Mead, I should rest easier with Graham away from Pemberley.
Nevertheless, the accursed rapscallion had left me with a dilemma: What, if anything, should I tell Elizabeth concerning her friend?
Elizabeth
At the sound of approaching footfalls, I closed my book and set it aside. Fitzwilliam entered the drawing-room alone.
I shifted towards him. “Where is Graham?”
He stopped in a stiff bearing. “I am sorry to disappoint you, but he has gone to Lambton.” I recoiled at the sharpness in his speech. He had no call to snap at me!
A pert retort came to mind, but he pressed his knuckles to his mouth—at this indication of his distress, I chose a more measured response. “This is unexpected. Why did he go there now, and why did he not mention this at dinner?”
He shrugged. “Graham is often subject to his whims.” His attitude remained rigid.
Perhaps the two of them had an argument. “It does not seem as though you welcome Graham’s presence, for you have not been yourself since his arrival. Is there anything about him I ought to know?”
