Page 31 of Fitzwilliam Darcy An Honourable Man
London
Darcy House
As the coach neared the centre of London, John Williamson observed his surroundings with great curiosity. At his age, he seldom visited, preferring the quiet countryside to the noise of Town, but it was interesting to venture forth on occasion and see what progress had been wrought in the heart of England.
On the outskirts, there were several new houses and a few new shops, but little had changed in the older, fashionable area of Grosvenor Square. As he progressed toward his destination, he remembered the summer, when he was in his early twenties, that he had stayed here with a friend whose widowed mother had married a much older man. That gentleman owned a townhouse several streets over, and he and his friend had enjoyed an entire month here all by themselves.
Williamson smiled, recalling a lovely park near the townhouse that turned out to be the perfect place to sit and watch the ladies parade about in their finery. Suddenly a park came into view out the opposite window, and he craned his neck to see if it was the one of his memories. He was still trying to decide when the coach came to an abrupt halt, and he turned back to peer out the near window. They had stopped outside a huge townhouse in a long row of townhouses, each grander than the next.
The elegant facade of the classical brick structure drew his attention, and his gaze traversed the three stories straight up to the roof, which was itself surrounded by an intricate ironwork parapet. That same ironwork decorated the long windows and a balcony that was partially visible on the side of the house. Certain that the interior of the home would rival the outside, he felt just a bit nervous; his friend’s home, grand though it was, could not compare to this. He had no time to dwell on it, however, as at that very moment a footman opened the coach door and folded down the steps.
Williamson was pleased to escape the confines of the coach and stretched to relieve the stiffness in his back. He became aware that the footman was waiting for him, so he immediately turned and began to ascend the steps to the portico. The elaborate front door opened before he had attained it.
“Mr. Williamson, I presume?” Mr. Barnes declared, reaching out for his hat and gloves.
“Yes.”
“Mr. Darcy is awaiting you in his study. Follow me, sir.”
The dignified butler moved across the polished marble foyer. At the grand staircase, he veered to the left, headed down a long hallway and came to a stop at the first door.
At his knock, the vicar recognised Mr. Darcy’s voice call out, “Come.”
William looked up from the stack of papers before him to see Mr. Barnes step into the room with Mr. Williamson directly behind. William smiled and stood just as the butler announced the visitor.
“Mr. Williamson to see you, sir.”
“Thank you, Barnes. That will be all.”
The servant bowed slightly and backed out of the room, pulling the door closed. William reached out to shake the vicar’s hand as he came near.
“Mr. Williamson, it is so good of you to come.”
“It was kind of you to invite me. I have not been to London in quite some time and never in such a fine coach! It was almost as if I were sitting on the sofa in the rectory during the entire trip!” Both men laughed. “But it was a long journey, and being a tall fellow, I am pleased to have finally arrived so I can stand erect once more.”
“I am glad that your trip was pleasant, and I certainly understand the problems of being tall.” Mr. Darcy’s brow rose as he chuckled. “I asked Barnes to show you in here first, as I wanted to greet you personally. Nevertheless, I imagine you want to freshen up and rest before dinner. My housekeeper can arrange a hot bath, if you so desire.”
A smile lit the vicar’s face. “A hot bath would be delightful! That is a luxury not often afforded at the rectory. My baths are usually lukewarm at best! Yes, I would dearly love to bathe and rest a bit before we dine.”
“Then let me ring for Mrs. Barnes to show you to your room and order your bath. I shall see you at dinner.”
“Dinner it is.”
Preston House
Wickham was not surprised that Cecile Preston’s home looked as if it were abandoned. There were no servants milling about, and goodly amounts of the furnishings were missing, all presumably sold to obtain operating funds. The last time they had talked, she mentioned that her late husband’s brother had asked for a convenient time when he and his wife could visit. They would, of course, expect to stay at the family townhouse, and she dreaded their discovering how she had looted the house of its treasures. Between Marvin Preston’s visit and her fear of Fitzwilliam Darcy’s reaction, she intended to leave London just as soon as their little scheme was put into play.
Wickham chuckled to himself, wondering what the plain little woman would do once she realised that he had absconded with all the money promised for their part in the operation. That bastard Darcy was no dullard, and his cousin Fitzwilliam was a seasoned army intelligence officer. Once they discovered all the particulars, they would come for the woman who had been staying at Pemberley. He had no doubt about that.
And by the time they consider my involvement, I shall be on a ship bound for America.
Unable to wipe the grin off his face, he savoured the satisfaction of knowing that his old nemesis would suffer greatly when he learned that his lady-friend was taken right from under his nose—or at least the noses of his trusted staff. He sniggered to himself at the thought of besting his nemesis.
Even Pemberley is not impenetrable, Darcy !
His pleasant daydream was cut short by Cecile’s declaration. “I am glad to see someone is happy.” However, her gloomy expression did not support her contention. “I assume you received my message.”
“Yes. I was surprised that you learned of Darcy’s presence from a letter before my associates could alert me; although, I suppose avoiding discovery is his strong point.” Wickham chuckled. “He has always been an expert at hiding in a crowded ballroom.”
Cecile did not find it amusing. “No matter the source, he is in London. I shall leave for Pemberley tomorrow morning, but how can I be assured Mr. Darcy will not be returning on my heels? I do not relish the thought of his arriving while I am yet there.”
“That is an astute observation, and one that I have considered.” Wickham pulled a paper from his coat. “I have made this itinerary. You shall stay at these inns so that I will know where you are at any given time. My people will watch Darcy’s house and notify me if he should suddenly decide to depart for Derbyshire. If he does, I will send one of my men on horseback to warn you. A man on horseback can keep ahead of a coach, and he will warn you before you get to Pemberley. In that event, we shall try again another time.”
Wickham rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I do not think that will be a problem, however. My sources overheard a conversation regarding a dinner at Matlock House later this week, and I assume Darcy will be obligated to attend. So, once you are at Pemberley, you must convince this woman to accompany you to Liverpool without delay. In our scheme, time is of the essence.”
“And what shall be my tale?”
“Frankly, I do not care. However, I believe you need only mention that rumours abound in London that Darcy’s cousin, who is staying at Pemberley, is married, and that you believe her husband to be Count Stefano. Tell her that a friend of yours has met the count and says that he is determined to recover his wife at any cost and is close to finding her. Suggest that if she stays, Darcy will be in danger. If, indeed, she has any feelings for him, she should flee without hesitation.”
“Suppose she has no money with which to escape?”
“Inform her that you will fund her passage on a ship to America that is sailing out of Liverpool in a few days and give her one hundred pounds to live on until she finds work. That should further sway her.”
“And what reason would I have to help with her passage and extra funds?”
“The oldest explanation for the behaviour of a woman—jealousy! Just say that you want Darcy for yourself, so it would be in your best interest for her to leave England. She would believe that. After all, it is true, is it not?”
Cecile glowered at the obvious insult.
“Oh, come now. Do not be missish. It is not like you and every other woman in England has not coveted him at one time or the other.”
Ignoring his insults, she continued, “So I shall take her to Liverpool and await your instructions?”
“Yes, stay at the Landmark Inn. It is in the middle of the wharf district, but it is pleasant enough. I shall look for you there.”
Wickham pulled an envelope from his pocket. “Here, you will need this.” Cecile looked inside to see a large sum of money. “This should suffice until I arrive to join you.”
“I do not see Fitzwilliam’s allowing the count—or us—to get away with this.”
“Do not worry. Darcy shall be so focused on recovering the woman that we shall be well away from England before he remembers us.”
“I pray you are right, but somehow, I feel we are poking a hornet’s nest with a short stick.”
Wickham smirked. “Then let us do a good job the first time and run for cover!”
Darcy House
The Library
William sat amused as Mr. Williamson stood in the very middle of his vast library, a look of awe upon his face as he turned slowly in a circle. Finally, after making a complete circle twice, he stopped, and a smile graced his features.
“I can say only that I would be most happy to avail myself of your magnificent library whenever I have the chance to come to London. I could not have imagined that any home could boast of having this many books.” He shook his head, chuckling. “I feel quite like a child in a sweet shop. I have no idea where to begin.”
“Begin wherever you like. If you enjoy the library here, you will be even more pleased when we travel to Pemberley, as the library there is four to five times larger.”
“Really?” At William’s smile and nod, he continued, “How could a reasonable man refuse?” Suddenly, his features sobered. “But, enough about my interests. You asked me here to discuss Lizzybet, did you not?”
William’s smile quickly disappeared. Where to start? How much to tell?
Seeing the trepidation on his host’s face, Mr. Williamson moved towards him, taking the seat opposite and leaning forward. “Mr. Darcy, in all my years of counselling my congregation, I have learned that it is best to come right out with what is on your mind. Stewing about it will not change it or make it go away.”
Looking up to meet the vicar’s kind eyes, William tried unsuccessfully to smile, sure that it looked more like a grimace. Then taking a deep breath, he began his account of all that had happened regarding Elizabeth since last they had talked in Meryton—everything with the exception of their decision to live as man and wife and the discovery of Stefano’s many marriages, details which would be revealed later. He finished, fell silent, and waited for the vicar’s reaction.
However, the man who had so vigorously encouraged him to talk a few minutes ago, sat speechless, staring into space with a look of bewilderment on his face. After several seconds, William began to wonder if he should have told a man of his age something this unsettling. Standing, he clasped the older man’s shoulder and shook it slightly.
“Mr. Williamson? Sir?”
Still he did not answer. Fearing the worst, William hurried in the direction of the library’s double doors. Just as he opened them, calling out for Mr. Barnes, he heard a faint voice.
“That will not be necessary.”
William hurried back to the elderly man, who was now lying back in the chair, resting his head against the upholstered cushion. His eyes closed as he murmured, “A brandy, please.”
Barnes appeared at that moment to find Mr. Darcy leaning over the indisposed guest. “Bring Mr. Williamson a brandy, quickly.”
The butler hurriedly complied, noting the vicar’s pale complexion. “Shall I call for the physician, sir?”
“No!” Mr. Williamson exclaimed, adding in a softer voice, “Just let me rest for a moment, and I shall be well.”
William studied the rector for a few moments before dismissing the butler. The trusted servant nodded and slipped out of the room.
Williamson opened his eyes to study the younger man. “My Lizzybet is truly alive? Then who is buried at Meryton?”
Remembering his shock at finding Elizabeth alive at Netherfield, he was sympathetic to the affect this news had had on her dear friend.
“Elizabeth is alive and well at Pemberley. That is why I asked you to accompany me there. The woman buried was a maid who perished in the fire. She had no family to mourn her.”
Mr. Williamson drank one brandy and part of another before he felt well enough to comment. His colour had improved, and he sat up, no longer slouched down in the chair, which made William relax somewhat.
“I ... may I ask why you decided to share this with me, especially in light of the decision to tell as few people as necessary to assure her safety?”
William tried to keep his voice from trembling, but his discomposure was not lost on the cleric. “I needed to ask a favour of you; but to be totally honest, some things have changed since I wrote the letter asking you to come.”
The vicar’s brow knit as he gave William his undivided attention.
“To explain, Elizabeth and I are in love—have been in love with each other for years. We wish to spend the rest of our lives together and ...” He hesitated, wondering at the vicar’s response.
Williamson’s eyebrows rose. “And?”
“We want children.”
To William’s relief, the look on the man’s face was not one of censure, but loving concern as he nodded solemnly. “Oh, I see.”
He squeezed William’s arm, studying him. “And you wish for me to conduct a ceremony?”
William nodded, his eyes imploring, “That was why I asked you to come—to beg you to let us pledge our love and devotion to each other in front of you and God, knowing full well that it may never be recognised by society or even by the church.”
The young man’s earnestness brought tears to the vicar’s eyes. Seldom had he witnessed love so devout, though he had performed marriages for scores of people in his lifetime. Even so, his mind swirled with the consequences of what was being asked of him.
William interrupted his thoughts. “Although it does not change my intentions towards Elizabeth, since arriving in London, I have learned new truths concerning her marriage . My uncle has been searching for the man who married my cousin two years ago, stole her valuables, and promptly abandoned her. It happens that the man is Count Stefano, the same man who took Elizabeth.”
The vicar’s eyes blazed. “How did the blackguard accomplish that?”
“According to his father, the count used trickery to fool several women into thinking they were married to him, when they were not. He could not legally marry anyone, as he was a married man when he came here from Italy. In any event, he would convince his victim to start out for Gretna Green to elope, but during the journey, he would drug her, and take her elsewhere. Using a forged marriage certificate and wedding ring, he would convince her that a marriage had taken place. After squandering her fortune and valuables, he would abandon her to begin again with a different victim.”
“But Lizzybet would never have gone with him, and she had no fortune!”
William’s eyes closed in torment. “No. Count Stefano fancied himself in love with her and forced her compliance for selfish reasons.”
“I may be a man of the cloth, but should I ever encounter that—”
William swiftly laid a hand on his shoulder. “I assure you the pleasure will be mine. I intend to challenge him.”
“Just beware. His proficiency with weapons was well-known around Meryton.”
“I am not afraid.”
Seeing the steely resolve in William’s blue eyes, he responded, “No, I imagine you are not.” The vicar’s face began to soften. “You realise that if she was never Count Stefano’s wife, then all your previous fears are for naught, as there is nothing to stop me from officiating over a marriage between the two of you. Of course, marrying Elizabeth Bennet could still invite gossip and possible censure.”
“My only fear is life without her—censure, I would gladly bear,” William stated decisively before a slight smile crept across his face. “Only my desire to keep her safe would keep me from shouting from the rooftops that Elizabeth Bennet is mine. But, in that regard, I have taken care to protect her.”
Williamson’s brow rose. “Oh?”
William walked over to his desk, opened a drawer and pulled out a piece of paper and a small box. He held the paper out to Mr. Williamson, who took it and smiled as the young man offered, “My connections were sufficient to procure this special license expediently.”
The vicar read the paper, murmuring solemnly. “One life, held captive by greed, ends as another life, born of unselfish, unstoppable love begins. Fitzwilliam Alexander George Darcy shall be united in marriage to Elizabeth Elise Lawrence.”
Glancing at the box William still held in his hand, he motioned. “And this is the ring?”
William opened the small case to reveal an emerald and diamond wedding ring set in an intricate pattern, with alternating stones circling the entire gold band. “It was my mother’s.”
“Lizzybet will love it, I am confident. Green was always her favourite colour.” He sobered then. “May I say that my heart broke for you when I stumbled upon you in the cemetery that day? Your love for her was irrefutable and your grief so palpable that it prompted my own sorrow to return full force. You have no idea how pleased I am that you and she have found each other.”
William coloured. “I believe I loved her from first sight, though, in my stupidity, I would not allow myself to consider offering for her.”
At Williamson’s questioning look, he added, “Simply because of her family, most especially Mrs. Bennet, I left Hertfordshire to try to forget her.”
Wise old eyes fixed on younger ones. “But my Lizzybet is unforgettable.”
Blowing out a breath, William quoted, “The heart that has truly loved never forgets, but as truly loves on to the close.” 4
“The Irish poet Thomas Moore?” Williamson ventured.
William nodded. “A hard lesson to learn! It would have saved us both a lot of heartache had I just accepted the inevitable.”
The old vicar laughed. “But, the question is, would Lizzybet have accepted marrying you as inevitable!”
Remembering her wit, impertinence and disapproval of his attitude, William shook his head. “I believe I would have had to work long and hard to be the kind of man she could respect and accept.”
“Then you should be proud.” At William’s quizzical brow, he grinned.
“Because you have become that man.”
Rosewood Manor
The drawing room
Georgiana paced back and forth across the room, her actions so very reminiscent of her brother that, unbidden, a smile formed on Evan Ingram’s lips as he sat watching. Quickly he suppressed it, fully aware that it would not do to let Ana see him smile while she was so upset.
“I am sorry. I should have been here when you returned. We could have discussed it then, and you would not have had to bear it alone.
“You cannot blame yourself because business with a tenant kept you away until after dark. Besides, I was so tired that I retired early. It was exhausting trying to convince Elizabeth that nothing has changed. She seems to be sinking into melancholy spirits again, and I do not know if she heeded my advice. I must send a note to William, for I fear what she may do.”
“I think that is a good idea. Your brother has always been able to calm her when she gets upset. Are you sure that finding those marriage certificates has caused this reversal?”
“I believe so. She did not mention anything else. Though I reminded her of William’s devotion, I think she is worried by the fact that she lived at Northgate for two years without being married.”
“I would think she would be pleased to be unmarried. That means she and your brother are free to marry and—”
“Yes, she is pleased about that,” Georgiana interrupted. “But ... but it is hard to explain. She feels as if she were a kept woman, a mistress, if you will. She fears the gossip, especially from William’s sphere, if they hear of it. She is so devoted to my brother’s welfare. It was she who pointed out that he will bear the brunt of any censure because he has to conduct business in Town.”
Evan rubbed his chin. “I can see her point, but truly, will it matter? Perhaps no one will ever know, and if so, it will not change the way Darcy feels about her. I have seen how her love has changed him. He is more like the person I knew as a boy. Surely, she can see his happiness.”
“For now, I am afraid she cannot see beyond the shame he may suffer. I pray she does not do anything foolish. I spoke to Mrs. Reynolds about keeping an eye on her, but I must be sure to check on her every day until he returns.”
“Yes, love. Do whatever you think is necessary to assure her health and safety. Darcy does not need to lose her now that he is so close to finding happiness.”
“Happiness.” She sighed. “He has had little true happiness in his life, and I fear what he would do if he lost her.”
Evan Ingram pulled his wife into a tight embrace, each closing their eyes. “Then let us pray that he never will.”
Just then, Mrs. Calvert appeared in the doorway with Millie who, upon seeing her parents, struggled to be put down. The sound of small shoes tapping on the wood floors caused the couple to open their eyes and turn towards their child.
“Millie!” They called in unison. As the small bundle of energy in pale yellow reached them, Evan leaned down to scoop her into his arms. She giggled as he placed kisses on her forehead, and then held her out so Georgiana could do the same.
“How would you like to visit the stables and see the new colt born this week?”
Small yellow curls bounced up and down. “Yes, Papa. May I?”
“Excellent! Of course you may.” Evan glanced at his wife. “If Mama will agree to join us, we shall be away. Ask her, sweetheart. Say, ‘Please, Mama.’”
Millie grinned, crinkling her nose and displaying her small white teeth. “Please, Mama.”
Georgiana chuckled, leaning in to nuzzle her hair. “I would not miss it for the world! Perhaps it is time to think of a name for him.”
Evan’s tone was sombre. “Darcy told me of the names you gave his colts, Ana, so I do not feel comfortable leaving the task to you.”
Smirking, she leaned over to take Millie in her arms. “Come, love. We shall just ignore your papa and try to come up with a suitable name.” Glancing at Evan mischievously just before she stepped out of the room, she ventured loudly, “Perhaps Petruchio.”
A loud groan, easily heard by most of the house, caused Georgiana to break into a fit of giggles. Millie giggled as well, not truly aware of the reason, but simply because she loved to laugh ... especially when her parents did.
Believe Me, If All Those Endearing Young Charms
BELIEVE me, if all those endearing young charms,
Which I gaze on so fondly to-day,
Were to change by to-morrow, and fleet in my arms,
Live fairy-gifts fading away,
Thou wouldst still be adored, as this moment thou art,
Let thy loveliness fade as it will,
And around the dear ruin each wish of my heart
Would entwine itself verdantly still.
It is not while beauty and youth are thine own,
And thy cheeks unprofaned by a tear,
That the fervour and faith of a soul may be known,
To which time will but make thee more dear!
No, the heart that has truly loved never forgets,
But as truly loves on to the close,
As the sunflower turns on her god when he sets
The same look which she turned when he rose!
~~~*~~~