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***
Darcy had only been home for ten minutes when his aunt sailed into the drawing room ahead of the footman who had intended to announce her—heedlessly interrupting the new piece Georgiana was playing for him.
Seeing Georgiana behind the pianoforte, she started speaking before the doors were even closed. “Georgiana, I have just heard the most awful story! Oh, hello, William. I was unaware you had returned from Pemberley.”
“I only now arrived.” He gestured the countess to a seat. “What is your news?” Darcy had little interest in ton gossip but knew she would not have brought it to Georgiana unless it concerned his sister in some way. However, now his aunt hesitated as if unwilling to share her tidbit with Darcy.
Darcy grabbed the arms of his chair to control his agitation. Of all the bad luck! If only Aunt Rachel had visited after he left the house. Since he had not seen Elizabeth for nearly a week, his need for her had reached a desperate pitch. Instead of visiting her townhouse, he would be compelled to hear his aunt’s report on the latest rumors or—if he was fortunate— just her schemes for the design of Georgiana’s next dress.
Finally, Aunt Rachel drew herself straight in her chair. “There are stories of an alarming nature about Georgiana’s friend, Miss Bennet.”
All of Darcy’s senses immediately went into a state of heightened alert. “What stories?” Darcy asked.
Lady Matlock lowered her voice, confident she now had their rapt attention. “She has been seen in the company of that man who married her sister—whose father was the steward at Pemberley.”
“Wickham?” All the breath seemed to leave his lungs. Was he too late? What had the blackguard done to her?
Sitting beside him, Georgiana flinched at the mention of Wickham’s name, but their aunt was smoothing her skirt and did not notice. Her face creased with disgust. “Yes, that one.”
“If she met with him, I doubt it was by choice,” Darcy said.
The countess’s voice lowered further to her most scandalous whisper. “But the rumor is that they are conducting an affaire du coeur. And she is his sister by marriage!”
“Never!” Darcy was suddenly standing and had to restrain himself from stalking toward his aunt. “She blames Wickham for ruining her sister. Eliz—Miss Bennet would never trust him!”
The countess shrugged. “They were seen together at Hyde Park.”
Darcy could not help rolling his eyes. “One encounters all manner of people at Hyde Park.”
“Yes, but there are rumors of other meetings, clandestine meetings, even at his lodgings.” His aunt straightened her shoulders and folded her hands in her lap, apparently uninterested in considering the veracity of her gossip.
Darcy met Georgiana’s horrified eyes; she was too stricken to speak in defense of her friend. But Darcy was not. “Vague rumors about secret rendezvous? I cannot believe you credit such talk!” Next to him, he could feel Georgiana relax against the back of the settee. At least he seemed to allay the worst of her fears. “Miss Bennet loathes the man—she would not give him her opinion on the weather, let alone entrust him with her virtue!”
His aunt was eyeing him shrewdly. “Why do you care so much about her reputation?”
Darcy seated himself once more, making an effort to appear relaxed. “I would not wish to see anyone unfairly maligned. And she was my cousin’s betrothed. I care about her for his sake.” God willing, his aunt would not examine the truth of that assertion!
“Hmmph.” Lady Fitzwilliam sat back in her chair with an air of dissatisfaction. “I think it wise for Georgiana to discontinue her association with Miss Bennet, at least until these rumors die down. Georgiana cannot be linked to any scandal during her debut year.”
Georgiana’s eyes pleaded with Darcy, and he gave her a short nod to acknowledge the silent request.
“I do not believe these rumors have any merit, and I have no intention of separating our household from Miss Bennet’s. To do so would suggest we believe such vitriol.” He gave his aunt no more opportunities to object. “Now if you will excuse me, I have urgent business matters to attend to. However, Georgiana has a new piece which she might be prevailed upon to play for you.”
Darcy stood abruptly and strode out of the room before his aunt could draw breath for another objection.
***
Elizabeth sipped her tea as she perused the list of plants which must be replaced. The magnitude of the damage still saddened her, but it was comforting that eventually they could restore the garden to its former glory. She was, however, no closer to ascertaining who might have caused the damage. Despite her initial fears, Elizabeth was now inclined to believe it was the work of a deranged individual, perhaps a vagrant.
The housekeeper, Mrs. Lawrence, marched in with a plate of lemon biscuits, which she placed on the table next to the tea pot. “Thank you.” Elizabeth smiled up at the motherly woman. “You always seem to know when a craving for sweets has struck.”
The other woman folded her hands over her plump waist and smiled briefly, but her eyes narrowed with worry. “Is there something else?” Elizabeth asked her.
“Ma’am …” Lawrence’s hands worried the edges of her apron. “I have not known you for long, but I want to say … well, you are a good woman…The colonel knew what he was about when he chose you.”
Elizabeth smiled faintly, a bit mystified where the conversation was tending. “Thank you.”
The rest of the housekeeper’s words emerged in a rush. “I want you to know I don’t believe a word of them rumors—and neither does any of the staff here.”
