His pleasure at hearing her genuinely offered opinion filled him. He wanted to remember forever the first day he took her to their home.
Ushering his family and guests back inside the carriage, they traversed the rest of the way to the house. With each turn of the wheel, he tried seeing the estate through his wife’s eyes. The park was extensive, containing a great variety of grounds. They entered at one of its lowest points and drove for some time through a beautiful wood stretching across the valley to circle the back of the house.
With each change in topography, Elizabeth admired every remarkable spot and point of view. Her expressions of pleasure were music to his ears. When they gradually ascended for half a mile, they found themselves at the top of another viewpoint. This time, they did not stop. Soon, they descended the hill, crossed a bridge, and drove to the front portico.
Instead of being welcomed by an open door and a line of servants, Darcy climbed the stairs, lifted his walking stick, and rapped on the door. Mrs. Reynolds was no longer at Pemberley since he arranged for her retirement. He had not remained in Derbyshire long enough to see her replacement, so he did not know who the currentbutler and housekeeper were. Whomever it was, they surely knew the name Darcy.
Forced to wait longer than was necessary, Darcy prepared to deliver his calling card. When the door opened, his hand stilled, and his chin dropped. Standing behind the liveried servant was none other than Simon Cole.
31
“What do you do here?” Darcy challenged, keeping his voice evenly steady.
Cole’s shoulders pressed back. His nose rose high in the air.
“I own Pemberley.”
What! Good lord, how can that be true?
“How is this possible?”
Cole’s brow arched. “Wickham is dead, is he not?”
“He is.”
“I am his rightful heir. I have the legal papers to prove it.”
“Show me.” Stepping forward, Darcy gave the footman no opportunity to shut the door on him.
“With pleasure.” Cole smirked. “Do invite the others in. Pemberley has long offered hospitality, even to those undeserving. I will not let it be said that I am any less a master than you were.”
“Show me Wickham’s will.”
“Suit yourself.”
Darcy stepped in front of Cole, walking directly to the study. Mr. Foster sat at the same corner of the room as he had before. Nodding his head, Darcy’s eyes focused on the top corner of the large oak desk centered in front of the windows.
Without waiting for his former man of business, the actual thief behind the loss of his estate, Darcy sorted through the pile of papers, scattering them randomly until he found the will.
Alas, he sat in his custom-made large leather chair and read every word.
“Do you have a copy?” he asked.
Before Cole replied, Mr. Foster said, “Yes, Mr. Darcy. I have a copy here.”
Placing them side by side, Darcy made certain that each paragraph started and ended in the same place with the same words. Rolling the copy into a scroll, he studied Cole.
“How did you hear about Wickham?”
“I hired a man to follow him from the very funds he paid me. After all, it was only a matter of time before someone took justice into their own hands and got rid of him.” Cole’s hand fluttered, his only sign of nerves. “I fully expected you to murder Wickham once you woke from your drunken stupor and discovered what he had done.”
“What you had done, do you not mean?”
“Yes, well, as I mentioned in my letter to you, I am not getting younger.” Cole ran his hands over his waistcoat, smoothing the rich fabric. “George Wickham desired control of this estate, but he had no self-discipline to run it properly.”
“What are your intentions?”
Cole spread his arms wide. “I have already offered the shell of Darcy House to the first person with enough ready funds to repay me the money Wickham wasted. The location alone is worth a fortune. The revenue reaped from Pemberley will see me set for life. Following your suggestions, I will replace the fences surrounding the fields, build the school for the tenant children, and repair the roof over the guest wing. Under my direction, Pemberley will become the finest estate in all of England, exceeding even its glory under a Darcy.
