Page 33 of Fitzwilliam Darcy An Honourable Man
Lady Waltham’s townhouse
The next morning
William and Richard arrived at a decent hour for a morning call, but were forced to wait for over an hour without being afforded as a courtesy any explanation as to why Lady Waltham had not joined them. Other than the housekeeper who had brought in tea after they were seated, they had seen no one.
“I do not understand it, Darce! How could Gwendolyn Waltham be privy to information concerning the count and Miss Elizabeth?”
“Shhh,” William warned, looking over his shoulder. The drawing room of Lady Waltham’s townhouse was eerily quiet, and there was no one in sight, but the door had been left ajar by the housekeeper so he answered in a soft timbre.
“Lower your voice, Richard. We do not know who listens without, and we do not want her to think us disconcerted. Try to appear indifferent. I am quite sure from her note that she expects to reap a substantial reward for whatever information she thinks she has stumbled upon. I do not wish for her to think we are overly anxious and raise her asking price.”
Richard nodded, calming somewhat. Had he been able to have his way, William would have stayed at home and allowed him to handle the woman. As far as he was concerned, Lady Waltham was a carnivore and his cousin her favourite entree. Glancing at William, he wondered at his ability to project such a calm demeanour, since he knew without a doubt that the man was worried sick about how this would affect the woman he loved. But before he had time for further reflection, a seductive voice purred from the doorway.
“I was not sure you would come.”
Both men stood and turned. Lady Waltham wore a very revealing gown, not in any way appropriate for morning. Her gaze vacillated between William and Richard before she fixed on William, her eyes slowly moving up and down his body in an erotic manner.
“You look very well this morning, Fitzwilliam.”
William kept his eyes on hers, refusing to let them wander to her nearly uncovered breasts. Richard, however, had no such reluctance. Trained to study his enemy thoroughly, he took in the entire vision that was Gwendolyn Waltham with a sly smirk.
Irritated by Richard’s open inspection when his was not the attention she desired, Gwendolyn added, “I see you brought your protector.”
With an air of certainty, Richard replied, “I am merely here in case you forget yourself, Lady Waltham. I understand that you have trouble grasping the meaning of the word no without the help of Lord Greenwich.”
Gwendolyn’s eyes hardened, and her mouth formed a straight line as she tried not to let either man see that her confidence had been ruffled. Taking a seat on the sofa directly across from where they stood, she motioned to them.
“Have a seat, gentlemen. This discussion may take some time.”
With a deep intake of breath illustrating his impatience, William sat down, and Richard followed, his gaze now fixed on the sight of long, slender legs peeking from under her gown. Undoubtedly, she had pulled the hem up as she sat down.
“Let us get to the heart of it,” William declared. “What information do you have about my cousin?”
“My, my, we are irritable this morning!” She leaned forward as she scolded William, affording both men a view of her ample cleavage. “Could you try to be a little more amiable, Fitzwilliam? After all, we were once—”
“Madam, as I stated to you at the Matlock’s ball and again at Pemberley, what we were years ago is of no import to me in the least. Let us get to the reason for your imperial summons. How much?”
Irritated that her considerable attributes were even now of no advantage with William, she answered testily, “As you wish! Three thousand pounds!”
“You are mad!” Richard quipped. “How do we know that you have valid information? And even if you did, that amount is ridiculous!”
“I daresay it is a pittance to Fitzwilliam Darcy! I mentioned a count, did I not? What if I also mention George Wickham?”
Richard and William exchanged furtive glances, which did not escape Gwendolyn’s notice, and she smiled like a Cheshire cat. “From the look on your faces, perhaps I should have asked for more.”
William interjected, “Do not try my patience, Lady Waltham. As it is, you are inviting more trouble than you realise. Your request for money is blackmail.”
Greatly offended, Gwendolyn sputtered, “But ... but I am only offering to pass along the gossip I overheard because it concerns you. I knew you would want to know.”
“For a price!” Richard’s voice escalated as he moved to the edge of his seat, leaning forward. “And if it involves harming a young woman—”
William gripped his cousin’s arm, and Richard’s head swung around. Seeing the look on William’s face, he acquiesced, sitting back in the chair again with a smug look at the alarm now on Lady Waltham’s face.
William proffered solemnly, “I will pay what you ask.” Gwendolyn lifted her chin, glancing at Richard with the beginnings of a smile before he continued, “After you tell me what you know.”
The smile vanished entirely, and William challenged, “But, if I find that you are playing me for a fool, I shall spare no expense in seeing you prosecuted. And you know that my uncle is well able to accomplish that.”
Indignantly, Gwendolyn rose and began to pace, sputtering loudly enough to be heard, “Ungrateful!” She stopped, stomped her foot, then squaring her shoulders faced William.
“After the contemptible way you have behaved towards me recently, you do not deserve my help! One would think that we were never anything to each other!” As William started to protest, she held up a hand. “Even so, you are most fortunate in that I find myself uncharacteristically low on funds, so I will tell you what I know. I can assure you that you will not be disappointed in the information that has fortuitously fallen into my hands.”
“If I am not, you shall have a bank draft this afternoon,” William assured her. “Tell me everything that you know about the threat to my cousin.”
She sat back down, assuming her pretentious manner. “First, I shall recount how I came to be acquainted with the count and how that placed me in the position to inadvertently learn of the plan to kidnap your cousin from Pemberley.”
At the word “kidnap” William’s entire countenance darkened. It was not lost on Richard, who began to consider what his cousin would do if someone were actually able to abscond with Elizabeth. He roused from his reverie though, as Gwendolyn began a recitation of the first time she met the count.
~~~*~~~
Richard was beginning to be concerned, as William had not uttered a word since leaving Lady Waltham’s townhouse—not even in response to his statements regarding what they had just heard. Instead, he stared blankly out the carriage window.
He leaned forward to shake his shoulder. “Say something, or I shall assume you are in need of a physician and act accordingly. I know you are reserved, but this is ridiculous.”
William’s countenance did not lighten at his teasing, as was customary. Instead, his gaze never left the window as he seemed to study something that only he could see. Then swallowing with great difficulty, he replied hoarsely, “I was mistaken to leave Elizabeth alone at Pemberley. I should have kept her right by my side, so I could protect her.”
“My Lord, Darce! You might not have been able to prevent this, even had you been at Pemberley or were she here with you. You cannot watch her every hour of the day and night. Now, quit thinking along such lines and begin to help me formulate a plan to deal with this blackguard.”
William attempted to recover, fixing his gaze on Richard. “I have been trying to figure it out—make sense of it in my head—but I am not sure where to begin. Gwendolyn said they talked of abducting Elizabeth as soon as I arrived in London. If this is true, there may very well be an express on the way informing me she is missing. I am torn between racing to Pemberley to try to prevent an abduction and assuming that they have already taken her. My heart tells me that I should head straight to Liverpool to keep her from being spirited aboard a ship bound for Italy. If she were removed to somewhere that I could not recover her at once ...” William’s voice trailed off, and he shook his head at the prospect, tears clearly visible in his eyes.
Seeing his anguish, Richard moved to sit beside him, slipping an arm about his shoulder. “Trust your heart. It would make sense to go to Liverpool first. When you send word to Pemberley and Rosewood Manor, tell them we shall be at the Landmark Inn in Liverpool in four days, and advise them to send us news at that establishment. If everything is well, we shall simply return to Pemberley from Liverpool.”
William straightened, sitting up taller. “I shall send a special express to Mrs. Reynolds and also to Evan and Georgiana the moment I get back to the house. Meanwhile, if you will direct Lieutenant Marbury to inspect the address Gwendolyn provided for Stefano, perhaps we can learn if he actually has quit London. If we get no clear answer soon, I feel we have no choice but to head straight for Liverpool.”
“Have you considered who this woman might be—the one who is to convince Elizabeth to leave Pemberley?”
“I have absolutely no idea.”
Further discussion was ended as, at that moment, the carriage pulled to a stop in front of William’s home. As the footman opened the door, a familiar face stepped towards them.
“Mr. Darcy, I came to inform you of what I lately have heard regarding Stephen. It appears that he has left London.”
William mouth dropped into a scowl. “Please come inside. I have just received information regarding him as well.”
Lord Stanton’s voice was full of concern. “Of course!”
Once everyone was seated in William’s study, he related to the count’s father the entirety of Gwendolyn Waltham’s early morning revelation.
Stanton sighed heavily. “I wish I knew with certainty his destination, but all my man could tell me was that he left in a coach with a Mr. Wickham, so it seems as though your source may indeed be correct.”
“If he is with Wickham, I have to assume that they are headed to Liverpool to meet the coach that has Elizabeth. There is no way Wickham would be able to enter Pemberley.”
“Are you confident they will succeed in persuading Miss Elizabeth to agree to leave your estate, Mr. Darcy?”
William reflected on the many times Elizabeth had expressed concern for his safety. “Whoever they sent to Pemberley has only to convince Elizabeth that my life, or that of my sister, is at stake and she would leave. She would never place either of us in jeopardy.”
“I fear you are most likely correct. Miss Elizabeth was far too tender-hearted for her own good.” Stanton breathed deeply. “Would that I could stop him.”
William’s steely eyes met the earl’s. “I intend to stop him. I will find Elizabeth and take her from him for the last time.”
Stanton lowered his head. “I understand. Your first concern must be for Elizabeth. Now, I should leave you to your plans. Do not bother rising, Mr. Darcy; I can see myself out.” With those words, the elderly man exited the room.
Richard spun back around to William. “With your permission, I shall have Mr. Barnes inform the coachman to ready the coach with all speed and to send a groom ahead to make arrangements for fresh horses at the inns I will specify. I know that route well. I have travelled it many times in my service to the crown.”
William nodded and Richard started towards the door, calling back over his shoulder, “We should be able to leave at dawn.”
William’s deep baritone rang out, “We shall leave within the hour.”
Richard halted mid-stride, turning awkwardly. “Surely not today?”
“Within the hour, Richard.”
“But how in blazes will the servants get everything ready in time?”
“My coachman is well aware of my propensity to travel at will. I am certain he has already checked the coach and is only awaiting my orders to leave. I have plenty of horses available, so in one hour I shall be on my way. Will you be joining me?”
Richard shook his head in awe. “We needed you in the last campaign! You are as hard a task-master as Wellington! Of course, I shall join you. After all, who is to keep you from meeting with trouble you cannot handle?”
William chuckled mirthlessly. “Who indeed?”
Darcy House
Mr. Williamson made his way down the grand staircase amidst the hustle and bustle of the servants’ rushing to have everything ready for the Master’s departure. Just outside his bedchamber, he had overheard William’s valet giving orders to a footman regarding some trunks, so he was alerted as to what all the activity signified.
Spying William as he exited his study, followed closely by his steward, Williamson waited for him to conclude his business before heading in his direction. The minute William spied the reverend he tried to assume a smile.
“Forgive me for not speaking with you sooner, Mr. Williamson. Would you please step into my study?”
The vicar followed him and took a seat in front of the desk as William sat down behind it. He noted the worry lines now gathered on the young man’s forehead and the fact that he did not look as though he had slept any last night. Assuming that the meeting William had had this morning was the cause for all the commotion, he was about to ask about it when his host began speaking.
“I am afraid that something very important has come up, and Richard and I have to travel to Liverpool straightaway. I would appreciate it very much if you would travel on to Pemberley in my other coach and wait there for my return.”
“If your departure concerns Lizzybet, I respectfully request that you tell me what is happening.”
Reading the deep concern in the reverend’s eyes, William acquiesced and told him of the discussions with Gwendolyn Waltham the day before and Lord Stanton a few hours ago. The older man sat with his head in his hands for a moment before looking up to enquire, “May I not travel with you and the colonel?”
William’s mien darkened. “If I find the count in Liverpool, the situation could quickly become very dangerous for everyone involved.”
Mr. Williamson stood. “I was unable to help my girl the last time she was abducted. I would like the opportunity to be of service to her now.”
William promptly came around the desk to clasp his shoulder. “I know how you feel. The last time I was not of any help to her either.”
“But you have been her champion since finding her. So, let us focus together on how we can rescue her from this villain.”
“Richard and I are leaving within the hour. I shall request that your trunk be packed quickly, if that is your wish.”
“It is. Thank you for allowing me to join you.”
“We can always use a man of prayer on our side.” William’s face sobered. “Thank you for loving Elizabeth so well.”
“I could say the same about you.”
Pemberley
The next day
The sky was quickly turning grey as the coach entered the longest section of the drive towards the manor house. It had been a tiring three-day journey, and Cecile Preston still could not rest until she had spoken with Elizabeth. As soon as she reached Pemberley, the hardest part began—convincing the woman she envied to accompany her to Liverpool.
As they neared the manor, Cecile began to fret that her brother and sister might possibly be visiting. It was certainly late enough that the Ingrams should be at their own estate, but there was always the possibility that they were to spend the night at Pemberley. In the pit of her stomach, a queasy feeling began and, just for a moment, she felt as though she might become ill. Summarily, she pushed the thought away.
Cecile Preston, you will do what you have come to do! You have no choice!
Suddenly the coach cleared the last stand of trees before the circular portion of drive began. The front entrance came into view, and she breathed a sigh of relief. There were no carriages or coaches in sight. Praying that Georgiana had not ridden over on horseback, Cecile held her breath as the coach came to a halt and the door opened. A footman was immediately there to help her alight. She watched Mr. Walker open the door as she began to take the steps.
“Mrs. Preston,” he declared warily as she entered the front door, “I am afraid Mr. Darcy is not in residence.”
Mrs. Reynolds rushed towards her, eyebrows raised in question. “Mrs. Preston, we were not expecting you. Mr. Darcy is not—”
Cecile interrupted her. “I came to see Miss Lawrence. Is she available?” For a moment the housekeeper stood staring at her, so Cecile continued. “I have a letter from Mr. Darcy that he asked me to deliver personally. I suppose, as late as it is, I should have travelled on to the Ingram’s estate, but he seemed anxious for Miss Lawrence to receive it as soon as was possible.”
A look of great relief spread across the housekeepers face. “A letter? Why, of course, I shall tell her.” She motioned towards an open door. “Would you please wait in the drawing room? I shall send some refreshments while I locate Miss Lawrence.”
Cecile nodded. “Excellent.” All was going according to plan.
Waiting in the well-appointed room, Cecile breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed no one was visiting, and Mrs. Reynolds had been only too glad to fetch Miss Elizabeth when she mentioned the non-existent letter. A small part of her whispered that she should not go through with the ruse, but she cast that thought away as the door opened.
Elizabeth entered hesitantly. Georgiana had told her of Mrs. Preston’s part in their ill-fated first meeting—the incident where Georgiana had confronted her because of Cecile’s erroneous conclusions. Why this woman would agree to bring her a letter from Fitzwilliam was beyond her grasp, but she wanted to hear from him so desperately that she cast her apprehension aside. As she shyly moved forward, Cecile stood and smiled holding out her hand.
“Miss Lawrence. I am Georgiana’s sister, Cecile Preston.”
Elizabeth nodded, though she did not move to take her hand. “I know who you are, Mrs. Preston. Georgiana has spoken of you.”
Dropping her hand, Cecile continued cheerfully. “I just came by to speak with you on Fitzwilliam’s behalf.”
“I understand that you have a letter for me.”
Cecile’s smile was more of a grimace. “Not exactly. Shall we sit down?”
Elizabeth stiffened, continuing to stand. “What do you mean, ‘Not exactly’?”
Just at that moment, a servant quietly entered, deposited a tray with tea and cakes on a sideboard, and after bobbing a curtsy, departed. After she was gone, Elizabeth shut the door behind her and turned back to Cecile.
“Either you have a letter or you do not.”
“I am afraid I do not, but if you will just sit down, I shall explain my intentions in coming.” Each sizing up the other, they both sat down stiffly.
“I own that I fabricated the existence of the letter because I felt that it was the only way you would agree to meet with me. I have travelled many miles because of my concern for Fitzwilliam’s welfare.”
Elizabeth’s chin rose. “You have come to counsel me to stay away from him?”
“I am here to appeal to your concern for his wellbeing. I pray that if you truly care for him, as I believe you do, you will leave Pemberley to assure his safety.”
Elizabeth’s dark eyes grew wider. “Continue.”
“Your husband, madam, is aware of your ruse and is, at this very moment, formulating a plan to steal you away from Pemberley—by force, if necessary.”
Elizabeth stuttered, “My—my husband?”
“Count Stefano.”
Her face crumbled at the name, and her face paled with fear. “How—how would he know that I am here?”
“The gossip circulating in London is that a married woman, claiming to be a distant cousin of Mr. Darcy, has insinuated herself at Pemberley. It even has been said that she was hiding from her husband. The count was bound to hear of it since he apparently has people searching for you. When I learned of the count’s plans, I immediately set out to warn you.”
Elizabeth raised brows. “But why would you—”
“For Fitzwilliam!” Cecile interrupted curtly. “I still care for him very much, and I would not like to see him hurt or, heaven forbid, killed.”
“How did you learn this?”
Cecile took several minutes to weave a tale of meeting Mr. Wickham and through him, the count. She said that the count had talked frequently of recovering his unfaithful wife and, only days ago, claimed that he had discovered her location. According to Cecile, it was only after she realised that he was speaking of Elizabeth and Pemberley, that she felt she had to take action. She ended the lies by repeating Wickham’s words that the count threatened to extract his wife from Pemberley, even if it meant killing Fitzwilliam Darcy.
Seeing that Elizabeth was in shock, she added, “I instantly knew what I had to do—offer you a way out—a way for you to escape your husband and to keep Fitzwilliam from being harmed.”
Elizabeth sat silently for a long time, overwhelmed by everything she had heard. The thought that Fitzwilliam could die because of her and knowing she could not live if that happened, forced her to compose herself.
“How do you intend to help me to leave?”
“I will personally escort you to Liverpool tomorrow morning. There is a ship there leaving for the Americas next week. I have taken the liberty of purchasing you a passage. In addition, I shall give you one hundred pounds, which should be sufficient until you find some type work when you land. Moreover, I will send an express to Mr. Wickham informing him that I called on you at Pemberley and learned that you were no longer here. He will be sure to pass the information to his friend, the count.”
“But why would you help me—buy my passage and give me money?”
“Fitzwilliam thinks he is in love with you. Once you are out of his life forever, I shall comfort him and, hopefully, assume my rightful place in his life. After all, I was his choice before you appeared.”
Though William had told her many times that she was the only woman he would ever love or have in his life, Elizabeth physically ached to hear Cecile speak as though it would be no challenge to replace her in William’s affections. And for a moment, in her mind’s eye, she could picture him with Cecile, entering a crowded ballroom, smiling and laughing as lovers do. Her tortured meditation was so vivid that only Cecile’s raised voice could penetrate it.
“Are you listening to me?”
Elizabeth shook her head to remove the tormenting image. “Yes. Yes, I am listening.”
“Then you agree that Fitzwilliam is too much the gentleman to let you leave, even if it is to protect himself. That makes it imperative that we leave before he suspects anything or, God forbid, Georgiana finds us out. We must leave at daybreak.”
Elizabeth blinked, trying to stave off the tears. The woman was right about one thing—Fitzwilliam would never let her go, even to save himself.
“Daybreak? Yes, we should leave at daybreak. I shall inform Mrs. Reynolds that you are staying the night and that I will be accompanying you to the Ingram’s home very early tomorrow. I shall not have my things packed, which would raise suspicion, but bring only a few things in my valise, which you can put with your bags.”
“Excellent plan!” Cecile declared with relief. “By the time our story is proved false, we shall have a good head start to Liverpool. I only hope that by the time someone suspects we are gone for good, they will have no idea as to the direction in which we are headed.”
Cecile concealed her unbridled happiness as she stood and moved to pat Elizabeth’s arm. “I am heartened that you have listened to my counsel. After all, we are both only trying to protect Fitzwilliam.”
Elizabeth stood to leave. “Mrs. Preston, I am not as naive as you believe. I know that your concern is strictly for yourself.” Then she walked to the door, stopping to address her once more. “I shall inform Mrs. Reynolds to prepare a room.”
Cecile fumed as she watched her rival quit the room.
At least I was not pretending to be his cousin!
~~~*~~~