Page 52

“My son’s companions have left the house through the kitchens, amply compensated to keep quiet,” said the Countess crisply. “Although the good Lord knows that they will get more than a pretty penny for those dresses they ran off in.”

Mrs. Darcy managed a small smile but before she could form any words, they heard raised voices and a thump from the room she had just left.

Elizabeth sighed. “Holmes, have the unmarked carriage brought to the kitchen door, and bring four of our strongest manservants here to escort the viscount home.” She glanced at the countess who nodded slightly, although her face was shadowed.

“Knock when it is all in place—no one else is to be allowed in.”

“Of course, madam,” said the butler with a deep bow, all but clicking his heels together.

When Holmes was gone, Elizabeth turned to her aunt. “I must go back in or I fear my husband will cause permanent damage to your son. Are you certain you wish to see this?”

Lady Eleanor indicated her determination, although her eyes were filled with pain. “He is my son, as you say. And Henry…” She could not even begin to articulate how this latest misdeed would hurt her husband’s pride.

The two ladies entered the room to find Ashbourne slumped on the floor in the corner, cursing a blue streak, while Darcy and the Earl were in the midst of a rapidly escalating argument. Lady Eleanor froze, staring at her eldest child as if she had never seen him before.

Elizabeth did her best to ignore the man and moved to stand by her husband and uncle.

“Gentlemen, a carriage is being brought around to the rear door—should the viscount be sent to his house, do you think? Is his wife in London?” Although she had never found anything to admire in Lady Alameda, she could not help but feel some pity toward any woman married to such a man.

Unfortunately, Ashbourne was the first to respond. “The ice queen is in Essex, may she go to the devil!” The invectives that followed made it clear that the relationship between husband and wife was in an even worse state had been previously imagined.

After unsuccessfully attempting to silence his son, Matlock turned to the ladies, his entire demeanor bowed in embarrassment. “I… he… he is very drunk—truly, he knows not what he says.”

To herself, Elizabeth rather thought that the viscount was troubled by far more than alcohol—he had a manic gleam in his eye and his expletive-ridden ramblings seemed more fit for Bedlam than any house in Mayfair.

From the pinched look on her husband’s face, she guessed that he would agree, but before anything further could be said, a soft tap on the door indicated that the carriage was in place.

Darcy took the ladies’ arms and drew them away from his cousin, not at all certain how Ashbourne would react.

When the earl offered his son a hand to help him up, the viscount’s response was more like that of a rabid dog than a member of the peerage.

Suddenly exhausted, Fitzwilliam waved at the brawny footmen Holmes had assembled and they managed to bring the man to his feet, taking him out through the servants’ passage so that none of the guests could observe him.

Once Ashbourne was out of sight, his family remained standing in stunned silence for some minutes.

Finally, Matlock spoke gruffly, “Darcy, Elizabeth—I cannot apologize enough. Edward has always been wild, but I never would have thought he would behave with so little decorum. That he could be so… so…”

When Matlock trailed off, unable to find the right words, his wife took his arm. Shaking her head, Lady Eleanor added her apologies in a softer but equally sincere voice.

Darcy continued to stare at the floor, brow wrinkled, as if his cousin’s behavior was a puzzle that he could not quite figure out, but Elizabeth responded, “Please, none of this was your fault. Certainly Lord Ashbourne’s manner was not as it should be, but at least we may take comfort in having prevented a public spectacle. ”

Her husband seemed to come out of his trance and nodded to show he agreed with her words. Turning to his relations, he dipped his head. “I apologize for striking him—my only excuse is that I was not in control of myself when he began saying such things about… errr…”

His sidelong look toward Elizabeth told the ladies exactly whom Ashbourne had been commenting upon when Darcy finally lost his temper. The Fitzwilliams assured their nephew that he had had ample provocation and then excused themselves.

Once they were alone, Elizabeth turned to her husband and wrapped her arms around his waist, her head resting on his shoulder.

For just a moment, Darcy allowed himself to relax, drawing solace through the physical contact.

After a soft, tender kiss, she stepped away reluctantly.

“As much as I would like to ignore them, I fear that we must return to our guests before our absence is commented upon.”

As if on cue, Holmes returned to report that the carriage transporting Lord Ashbourne had departed as anonymously as possible through the mews.

The Darcys’ return to the ballroom went largely unnoticed, for there were so many guests distributed among all the public rooms that it would have taken a concerted effort to track their movements.

Richard found the couple by the punch and, after accepting a glass for himself, began to interrogate them.

Before his cousin might say too much, however, Darcy gave him a stern look. “Your brother was feeling unwell and had to return home,” he said succinctly. “Now, how has Georgiana been? She does not appear to be enjoying her dance with Lord Carlisle.”

Richard took the rebuke well, although he was clearly frustrated to remain even temporarily ignorant of his brother’s most recent perfidy. “Yes, well… apparently his new title has not cured him of having two left feet. Perhaps they should begin making ladies’ dancing slippers with steel toes.”

The jest managed to draw a small smile from Darcy and a gentle laugh from Elizabeth, whose understanding expression made it clear that she appreciated his effort to lighten their conversation.

They carried on for some minutes, imagining what other weaponry a lady might don to protect her person at a ball, and their group expanded to include several other acquaintances.

One gentleman did ask his host if he had indeed observed the Viscount Ashbourne’s arrival, but Mr. Darcy merely repeated that his cousin had been too ill to do more than put in an appearance.

The remainder of the night continued in a similar manner until finally, the last guest was farewelled and the Darcys could retire to their private apartments. Will gave his sister a quick hug; “Our parents would have been very proud of you tonight, my dear—I know I was.”

Georgiana began to thank her brother but, before she had finished, a great yawn nearly split her face. As a result, all three were laughing as they went to find their beds, despite the events that had threatened to disrupt the evening.