Darcy would have preferred that these complete strangers would have no knowledge of his private affairs, but he realized, from years of trying to squelch his aunt, that it was an effort in futility.
Georgiana, seated on Elizabeth’s left, ventured a comment. “I do so wish that the colonel might call at Pemberley more often. It seems a long time since he was here.”
“It has been only a few weeks,” Elizabeth remarked. “He was here during the Festive season.”
“It seems longer.”
Georgiana’s participation did not go unnoticed by Darcy, who realized that six months earlier, it would never have happened.
“If Mr. Worth’s evaluation is true, Lord Stafford, you may not arrive at your relative’s bedside in time.That would be a great tragedy,” his sister observed.
Her words caught Adam Lawrence’s attention in more than one way. He and Cathleen had not discussed how they would explain their supposed trip to Cheshire to comfort a loved one. “It would indeed be a tragedy, Miss Darcy.”
Lady Catherine asked, “Whom did you intend to visit, Lord Stafford?”
Adam stammered,“A-a dis-a distant relative for me,Your Ladyship, but it is my cousin Miss Donnel’s uncle.You understand how extended families come together in times of adversity.”
“And your uncle, Miss Donnel—he has a title?” Lady Catherine demanded.
“An Irish baron, Lady Catherine.” Cathleen kept her eyes lowered; Adam had warned her of Darcy’s threat, and she played her part.
Lady Catherine’s disdain showed.“Irish?” She wrinkled her nose.
“We all must come from somewhere, Aunt,” Darcy said.
“I suppose,” she said and
tsked
, taking the time to cut the slice of ham on her plate.“It is kind of His Lordship to escort Miss Donnel to Cheshire, considering that you are not blood cousins.”
Adam found Lady Catherine’s attitude amusing. If he had not promised Fitzwilliam Darcy to maintain propriety for the rest of the party’s sake, Adam would have enjoyed putting the woman in her place by saying something scandalous. “Miss Donnel and I are
close,
nonetheless, Lady Catherine. I am just not close to her maternal uncle.”
“I must observe, Viscount Stafford, that you and your cousin make a striking pair.”
Adam could not resist. “So you think my cousin an appropriate match, Lady Catherine? I have never taken with the British practice of marrying one’s relatives—be they distant or not.” Adam purposely avoided looking at Darcy, knowing what his host might think of such a remark. He also avoided what he assumed played across Cathleen’s face. He had openly admitted that he held no desire to marry her.
“Nonsense, Your Lordship.” Lady Catherine swelled with self-righteousness. “A family must keep the blood lines pure. I had once entertained the idea of my nephew and my Anne making a match. It was the favorite wish of his mother, as well as my choice. However, it was not meant to be.”
“Mother, please!” Anne whispered loudly.
Darcy warned, “Aunt, we will
not
revisit this issue.”
“Of course, Darcy. I apologize.” The woman looked anything but apologetic.
Adam had taken some pleasure in subtly needling Darcy’s aunt, but he had no understanding of the animosity lurking behind the woman’s conversation. He knew nothing of how or why Darcy had chosen his wife, but it was obviously a sore point for Lady Catherine. Adam had taken an initial liking to Darcy’s wife, and he regretted that he might have inspired Lady Catherine to embarrass the woman.
“Well, as for me, I will follow in your nephew’s footsteps, ma’am, and choose a woman I can truly love. It is capital to witness such a perfect couple as we see in Mr. and Mrs. Darcy. Very few men would object to such a match.” With these words, Adam hoped that he had laid the groundwork for the Darcys’ forgiveness of him.
“Mrs. Darcy is a phenomenal woman.” Darcy raised his glass to Elizabeth in acknowledgment of the woman he loved.
“Thank you, my Husband.” Purposely, Elizabeth had not reacted to Lady Catherine’s insult. She had expected something of
the sort from Darcy’s aunt. She would not sink to the woman’s baseness. Elizabeth recalled Darcy’s second proposal:
As a child I was taught what was right, but was not taught to correct my temper. I was given good principles, but left to follow them in pride and conceit. Unfortunately, as an only son, I was spoiled by my parents, who though good themselves, allowed, encouraged, almost taught me to be selfish and overbearing; to care for none beyond my own family circle; to think meanly of their sense and worth compared with my own.
Luckily, her husband had changed his ways. Sadly, Lady Catherine would never see beyond the end of her aristocratic nose.
“Perhaps, Georgiana, you might entertain your brother’s guests after our meal.” Lady Catherine’s suggestion was a thinly veiled edict.
Georgiana flushed. “I…I could not, Aunt.”
“Nonsense, child. You most certainly will do your duty. Why spend so many hours practicing if no one ever is to hear you play? I am sure you possess more skill than Mrs. Darcy for she was never one to practice. I told her at Rosings several times that she will never play well unless she practices more.Yet even with her limited experience, Mrs. Darcy managed to entertain both the good colonel and your brother for an evening.”
Darcy came immediately to his wife’s defense. “No one admitted to the privilege of hearing Mrs. Darcy could think anything wanting.” Darcy provided a solution of his own to calm his sister. “Perhaps, Elizabeth, you might offer us the pleasure of hearing you sing, with Georgiana’s accompaniment, of course.”
Elizabeth smiled archly. “I would enjoy that, Fitzwilliam. Oh, please say you will indulge me, Georgiana!”
Georgiana knew this woman—knew that Elizabeth, like her brother, would walk through fire to protect her. “That would be most pleasant, Elizabeth.You have a beautiful voice.”
“Possibly my cousin will share a song also; she is quite talented,” Adam Lawrence observed, again ignoring Darcy’s possible censure.
Darcy asked smoothly,“Might you honor us with a song or two, Miss Donnel?”
Her initial expression was one of mild alarm, but the lady answered, “Thank you, Mr. Darcy, for asking. If it is your wish, I cannot refuse.You have opened your home to my cousin and me. It is the least I could do in return.”
Worth took a sip of his wine. “Sing for your supper, Miss Donnel?” he inquired jovially. As a solicitor,Worth considered himself a keen observer of humanity, for he met all kinds. As such, something told him the viscount and this lady held no blood relationship. He thought her “talents” lay elsewhere.
“It is not necessary to repay our hospitality,” Elizabeth interrupted, “but I would appreciate not being the only one to perform this evening. Please do join me.”
As usual, Lady Catherine wanted the last word. “Music! It is of all subjects my delight. There are few people in England, I suppose, who have more true enjoyment in music than myself, or a better natural taste. If I had ever learned I should have been a great proficient; and so would Anne, if her health had allowed her to apply.”
Darcy watched as his cousin sank lower in her seat, trying to symbolically disappear. Obviously, Anne’s
health
had improved enough for her to sneak off to meet
her lieutenant
. Darcy had not yet had an opportunity to speak privately with Anne. When he had stopped by her room that day, she claimed a headache. He would need to give her a day or two before he could approach his cousin on her indiscretion. Darcy would not chastise her, though. He had mistakenly done so with Georgiana; now she struggled to gain her social confidence. Despite the fact that Anne held eight years on Georgiana, his cousin lived under Lady Catherine’s thumb. As such, Anne de Bourgh possessed little social confidence. Actually, he found her “rebellion,” so uncharacteristic, encouraging. Possibly, Anne’s
indiscretion
would be a turning point in her life. He simply wanted to guarantee that the man did not perform a farce in his profession of love. If Lieutenant Harwood’s affections proved legitimate, Darcy would not stop the man from pursuing Anne. His cousin deserved to know true affection.
“Let us not stand on propriety then. Shall we retire to the music room?” Darcy stood to end the conversation. Elizabeth followed him to her feet. She came to his end of the table to greet him. In reality, he should escort his aunt, but Lady Catherine’s ill breeding and high-handedness irritated him. “Come, my Dear.” He placed Elizabeth’s hand on his arm and led her from the room.
“Will you not come to bed, my Husband?” Elizabeth stood at the door of his study. United, they had weathered their first evening with their eclectic guests. Both she and Miss Donnel had entertained the group, and Georgiana finally agreed to play several solos-—with everyone’s praise. They had found the evening actually quite pleasant, with the exception of Lady Catherine’s continual remarks on the various performances and her many instructions on execution and taste.
“I have a letter to my solicitor,” he noted. “I shall join you by the time you finish your ablutions.” He smiled at her; he knew Elizabeth did not like to sleep alone. At Longbourn, she and her sister Jane had shared more than confidences.They often shared the same bed, needing each other’s company to feel complete. His wife had transferred that “need” to him. Of course, Darcy did not complain. Lying with her in his arms was exquisite. His loneliness—his own “needs”—found completion in her love.
Elizabeth pursed her lips and blew him an air kiss.A smile played across her countenance. “I shall wait up.”
He recognized that look—a love promise. “I shall not be long.”
Giggling, she dropped him a curtsy and was gone.
Darcy returned to his letter. In it, he asked Mr. Laurie to seek information on Wickham’s reported affairs, as well as the extent of the man’s latest debts. He also requested any details that Mr. Laurie might glean on Lieutenant Harwood’s financial soundness. Darcy did not fool himself into thinking that the letter would go out anytime soon:The snow had continued to fall all evening, covering everything in a thick layer of whiteness. However, he would have it ready for when the postal service started up again.
A tap at the door drew his attention away from his task. He raised his head and found Mr. Baldwin waiting patiently for his acknowledgment. “I beg your pardon, Mr. Darcy. Might I speak with you, sir?”
“Certainly, Mr. Baldwin. Come in, please.” He motioned to a chair, but the well-trained domestic refused with a nearly imperceptible shake of his head. However, the man remained on alert, and Darcy quickly recognized his butler’s agitation. “What might I do for you, Mr. Baldwin?” He knew that for Baldwin to approach him, the matter must be significant. Darcy had, long ago, relegated management of the household staff to the man.
“As you requested, Mr. Darcy, I checked the rooms in the east wing myself.” He paused, searching for the words to explain the situation. “Sir, the room with the Chinese pattern…”
“Yes, Mr. Baldwin.”
“The mattress, Mr. Darcy…and the…the bed linens…they are missing, sir.”
Darcy’s expression showed his irritation. “What do you mean, Baldwin? Missing?”
“Missing, sir! As in not there…not in the room at all…not in any of the rooms, sir!”
“Are you sure, man?” Darcy was on his feet, moving closer to his butler, as if that would bring back the missing items.
“Completely, Mr. Darcy. I looked myself. I searched every room in the east wing, as well as all the empty ones in the west wing. I even searched the servants’ quarters. I found nothing, Mr. Darcy—not a pillow or a blanket or even a sheet—nothing, sir.”
“How is that possible, Mr. Baldwin? A complete bedding set does not sprout wings and fly away!” Darcy’s frustration became more evident.
“I wish I had an explanation, sir. Where could it be? And why bed linens? None of it makes sense, Mr. Darcy.”
Darcy paced the room—he disliked not being in control of his surroundings. “Tomorrow morning, I want you to take Murray
and Hastings and search every room in this house—even those occupied by my guests. If they object, tell them that I have ordered you to inspect every window and fireplace flue to make sure that they can withstand the elements. Methodically move from room to room—none is to be left without inspection. I want to know the whereabouts of this said bedding. And while you are at it, look for the candelabra usually kept outside Miss Darcy’s room. Mrs. Darcy reports its sudden disappearance also.”
“Yes, sir. I will see to it personally, sir.”
His man waited, expecting Darcy to say more—to express his anger about the butler’s incompetence. “Just find it, Mr. Baldwin. Someone plays games in my house, and I will have none of it.”
“Yes, Mr. Darcy.”
“Extinguish the lights. I am to bed. Be sure that everything is secure.”
“Yes, Mr. Darcy.”
Too annoyed to even finish the letter, Darcy strode from the room. Only in Elizabeth’s arms could his anger be lessened.
They made love twice:The first time eased his dissatisfaction with the unexpected onslaught of intruders on his domain and with the equally unexpected disappearance of his household items.The second time Darcy brought her to completion, taking time to please her, slowly teasing Elizabeth with his ministrations.They lay wrapped in each other’s arms, sated. Elizabeth drifted into the early stages of sleep. Darcy watched her even breathing, as he did nightly. From their first time together, he had watched her—guarded her as she slept—amazed by how easily she gave herself to him.
He had spent a year in suspense, trying to win her love, although he had refused to even acknowledge the power she held over him. “By you I was taught humility,” he murmured softly as he lightly stroked Elizabeth’s cheek.
She turned in his arms, snuggling into his chest. Her hand reached up to cup his jaw line. Dreamily, Elizabeth mumbled, “I
love the way you smell—sandalwood and my Fitzwilliam.” She breathed him in and returned to her sleep.