Page 9 of Fitzwilliam Darcy An Honourable Man

London

A Townhouse

“You had no right!” Count Stefano bellowed, his green eyes flashing, the veins in his neck were distended as he hurled a candelabrum across the room where it smashed into a liquor cabinet. The sound of crystal shattering brought a servant rushing to the door, who upon seeing the commotion quickly retreated. “I should have been the one to decide when my wife was to be informed of my activities!”

“The contessa is the mother of your son, Stephen. She deserves to know the truth! You are in no position to have Eduardo join you here. At any time, you might be confronted by an angry father or brother. Do you want to place the life of your son at risk?”

“What truth did you tell her, Father ? Have you told her that I have taken several more wives in England or that I make my living by thievery, as you have cut off my allowance?”

Frederick Stanton, Earl of Essex, recoiled, making his son sneer.

“Surely, if you are aware of the number of women I have supposedly married, you must know what enables me to live so lavishly, though you have for all practical purposes disowned me.”

“All the more reason to keep Eduardo away from you.”

“You have made it your mission to keep those I love from me. I loved Elizabeth, but you took her away from me.” He began to pace, mumbling incoherently before halting abruptly. “She was the only one I chose because I loved her. She had no fortune.” Whirling around, he moved to stand face to face with his father. “You ruined it! You told her everything!”

“No! I should have told her, but for her sake, I could not. It was your failings that caused her to leave.”

“Lies! You are lying!”

At the look on his father’s face, Stefano began laughing hysterically, causing Stanton to declare, “You are mad!”

“You only want to be rid of me. Was that not your plan when you schemed to have me committed when that wench died! Do not think you can fool me again. I now have with me men from my mother’s country that will stop you—men whose loyalty was to my grandfather and now to me. If you are smart, you will go back to your comfortable life and keep your nose out of my affairs.”

The earl grabbed his cane and stalked towards the door but was halted as Stefano ran to step in front of him, grabbing his forearms tightly.

“Consider this your last warning, Father . If I learn that you have interfered in my life again, I will not hesitate to have my men hunt you down.”

Stanton shook his arms free and walked around his son, not looking back until he stood outside the front door. Taking a shaky breath, he descended the steps and entered his carriage.

Mr. Scroggins, his long-time servant now serving as his bodyguard, enquired, “What did he say?”

“The usual threats,” Frederick Stanton replied, not meeting the other man’s eyes. Mr. Scroggins studied him for a few moments.

“You should have let me accompany you.” Stanton shrugged. “You did you best, sir. You tried to rear him right, but that mother of his and his grandfather filled his head with so much rubbish that—”

“Please, Scroggins! Do not try to absolve me. I knew what he was—what he was capable of many years before I tried to right the wrongs he had committed. If only I had acted sooner! He has deceived two women that I know about, not counting that mentally unbalanced one.”

“Miss de Bourgh?” the servant ventured.

“Yes. That is the one.” He shivered. “She is probably as disturbed as my son. At least I got him out of the country before he could carry out his threat to take Rosings. Her mother, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, would have seen him dead first. I was barely able to convince him to remove himself from England before Lord Matlock got word that he had depleted all the money from Miss de Bourgh’s accounts. Edward Fitzwilliam is very influential and not to be crossed.”

Stanton turned to study the scenery outside the window for a long time before lamenting, “Why did he have to return? And why to London? If word reaches Fitzwilliam…” He sighed.

“He was never one to listen, not to you, nor to anyone else. It is a wonder he is not involved in more trouble.”

Stanton met Mr. Scroggins’ gaze. “I am sorry to report to you that he is. I did not want to believe it, but he confirmed my fears today.

“He pays accomplices for stolen gold, silver and precious stones. He smuggles the contraband aboard the ships in which I have invested—those that sail to and from Italy, hiding the items inside other goods that are being legally exported. I imagine he can then sell the pilfered goods for a substantial amount on the Continent.”

“How did you find out?”

“The agent that I hired reported to me several days ago. Mr. Burger is an excellent sleuth—very expensive, but he uncovers the information that he is employed to find. He also stated that a man has been enquiring after Stephen in Town.” He dropped his gaze to his boots. “It may be some relative of one of the ladies he has ruined. I am amazed he has evaded justice this long.”

He sat silently as the carriage swayed back and forth, carrying them to his townhouse. Mr. Scroggins knew from his expression not to question him further. Frederick Stanton was lost in memories of a fair-haired boy who was always eager to be with his father, a boy who loved to ride with him across the meadows at Northgate. As always, his heart began to ache with regret. Perhaps if Maria had not abandoned their marriage and listened to her father’s pleas to return to Italy, Stephen would have turned out differently. As it was, his son was taken from him when he was barely seven, and he had not seen him again until he was twenty. It had caused an irreparable breach in their relationship.

Neither man brought up the fact that had Stephen’s mother not spirited him back to Italy the year he was nine and twenty, he now would have been residing in a place where he could not hurt anyone again—in Bedlam .

Journey from London to Pemberley

This journey home was unlike any William had made before. He was determined to lessen the travelling time by one day because he had decided not to give Elizabeth the herbal brew that kept her calm and sleepy unless it proved absolutely necessary and he was concerned that she would not adjust well to being on the road. They had left London at dawn in his best coach with a basket of food and drink—enough to allow them to traverse many miles, making stops only to change horses.

When they finally stopped at a small coach stop, he helped the women out so that they could stretch their legs and take care of necessities. He escorted Elizabeth inside before handing her off to Mrs. Drury and heading back outside to check their progress. A short while later, he returned to inform them that they were ready to resume their journey.

This course of action was repeated several times over the course of the day until they reached the inn William had chosen for their first night. The establishment was well cared for, provided hot baths, served adequate food and had several larger bedrooms available for those who had the means to pay for them. As weary as they were when they arrived, he was pleased that he had heeded Mr. Barnes’ suggestion that he send a servant ahead to arrange lodging and horses along the entire route.

It was not lost on William that Elizabeth was exhausted. She leaned heavily on him as he helped her from the coach. With her hand on his arm, they entered the inn, and she immediately froze as several men, all sitting around one table in a dark corner, stopped their conversation to gawk at her. Glancing in the direction of the men, William slid his free hand over hers protectively and looked back over his shoulder to nod at Mrs. Drury. She quickly moved up to stand next to Elizabeth, effectively shielding her on the other side. Thus, with Elizabeth in between, they moved to the inn’s desk.

“Mr. Darcy, how pleased we are to have you with us!” the proprietor, Mr. Gates, gushed. He glanced at Elizabeth and appeared to wonder if she were Mrs. Darcy. When no presentation was forthcoming, he recovered briskly. “As you requested, hot baths will be readied immediately, and I shall send dinner trays to your rooms. If you will follow Gertrude,” the innkeeper gestured to a plump young woman with red hair and freckles, “she will show you the way.”

William nodded his acquiescence and began to guide Elizabeth towards the stairs. Gertrude, who was not only round but short, had to run to get ahead of the party. As she assumed the lead, she occasionally cast glances back at Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy. She had been enamoured of the handsome gentleman since she had come to work for her uncle, Mr. Gates, at four and ten years of age. That year, the object of her admiration was a dashing fellow of one and twenty. She knew his exact age because she had overheard Colonel Fitzwilliam, who often travelled with him then, remark about his upcoming birthday.

As the years passed and Mr. Darcy had not married, she began to pretend that he had not taken a wife because he secretly admired her. It was only whimsy, but it gave her something to dream about amid the dullness of her existence. Barely a fortnight ago, Gertrude had been thrilled to see him again after a two-year absence, but his appearance tonight, with a beautiful woman in tow, caused only disappointment. As she guided the party up the stairs, her mind raced. Had Mr. Darcy married? She tried to determine if the lady wore a ring, but gloves covered the evidence. Sighing heavily, she faced forward knowing that the way Mr. Darcy looked at the young woman, her flight of fancy had been just that.

Reaching the second landing, she guided them down a little-used corridor lined with larger rooms. Stopping in front of the first door on the left, she barely lifted her eyes to address the gentleman she had long admired. “We have reserved this single room,” she informed him, and then she motioned to the right side of the hall, “and these two rooms, which are connected. They share a small dressing room with a sitting area in between.”

Without replying, William motioned for the footman following them to put his trunk in the single room on the right, then signalled the other footman with a slight nod of his head to carry the remaining trunks into the suite on the left hand side. After the footmen had carried in the luggage and departed, he led Elizabeth into the suite.

“You and Mrs. Drury shall occupy these rooms.” He glanced to see Elizabeth’s reaction, and from the corner of his eye caught sight of Gertrude standing just inside the room. Annoyed, he turned to direct her elsewhere. “Please have a bath prepared right away.”

Gertrude took a few steps towards the hallway door, stopping when William’s attention focused on Elizabeth again. As he led her into the small sitting area, Gertrude turned and slipped closer to the door through which they had exited, quite envious of his tender words to the young woman she now envied.

“Elizabeth?” William raised her face with one finger under her chin, waiting until she looked up. When she did, he smiled warmly and could not help but cup her face with his hand. “The small table in the corner will suffice for you and Mrs. Drury to have your dinner. After you bathe and eat, you must go to bed, as we will leave early. Mrs. Drury will leave all the doors open between your rooms so she can hear if you call her. I shall be just across the hall. Do you understand?” She did not respond, but he was encouraged by her serene countenance.

Gertrude was fascinated. She had never heard any man speak to a woman so lovingly, and she was sure that she would never enjoy the experience. Sighing heavily, she turned and ran into Mrs. Drury. Elizabeth’s companion had taken longer to come up the stairs and had observed the maid’s eavesdropping. Gertrude coloured and practically ran from the room.

Observing the servant’s hasty exit and frowning in disapproval, Mrs. Drury debated mentioning it to Mr. Darcy, but seeing that he was talking to Elizabeth, she thought better of it. The man had enough to worry about as it was.

~~~*~~~

George Wickham could not believe his eyes. Fitzwilliam Darcy with a woman—and a beautiful one at that!

He had been seated at a table with a few inebriated men when the Darcy party entered the inn. He liked to provide plenty of liquor, as it was much easier to relieve drunks of their valuables. One of the men made a bawdy remark about the woman with Darcy, causing the rest to laugh uproariously. Wickham, however, did not join in the laughter as he was engrossed in studying the Master of Pemberley and the lady close by his side. The dimly lit corner provided enough cover to prevent his being recognized as he took in the woman’s fine figure and lovely face. And as she turned towards Darcy, he felt his ire rise.

He could have had such a woman, had George Darcy provided for him as he had promised that he would. Suddenly, a new thought emerged from his hatred. Perhaps he left me more than the meagre three thousand pounds I was given, but Darcy withheld it. I could certainly believe it of the bastard!

Observing the obviously devoted couple anew, he searched his memory, trying to remember if he had heard or read that his old friend had married or was even engaged. With his new enterprises claiming his attention, Wickham had been too busy to keep up with London society. Smiling, he considered for just a moment that the woman was a whore. The smile vanished just as quickly as the thought that provoked it.

No! She did not dress the part, and she had a chaperone. Besides, Darcy would never be seen in public with such a woman. Hell, he is hardly seen in company with any woman. Perhaps he likes men!

Chuckling to himself, Wickham knew that it was not true, but enjoyed the thought just the same. His reflections were interrupted by the sight of Gertrude leading Darcy’s party up the stairs. A wide smile creased his face. He had ingratiated himself to the unattractive redhead during the last year, paying her compliments and bringing her paste jewellery, and now she was primed to do his bidding. On his last stay, she had agreed to obtain keys for him to the rooms occupied by the rich and to alert him when a woman was staying alone.

He intended to wait until the early morning hours, slip in and relieve them of their best jewels, leaving the cheaper items. He hoped that by leaving some baubles, the thefts would not be discovered until much later. In any event, he already would have vanished by daylight, leaving Gertrude a few pounds richer and himself considerably more so.

Rising to go to their usual meeting place behind the inn, Wickham could not remove the smirk from his face . He wondered if the beautiful woman with Darcy would be alone tonight. Perhaps he would take more from her than just her jewels!

Later that night

The room was ablaze, and smoke was filling her lungs. There was a blinding pain in her head, and her ears seemed to ring from the loud blast as Elizabeth tried to sit up. From the corner of her eye, she could see the child lying on the floor next to her mother, both with red stains spreading across their muslin gowns. Elizabeth tried again to move, but could not, so she began to scream for someone—anyone. Suddenly, she realised that she could not hear anything—not the sounds of the fire or even her own cries.

Sweating profusely, Elizabeth bolted upright in the bed, reaching for her baby, but it was not beside her. She felt around for it frantically, but as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she realised that she did not recognise the room either. Beginning to panic, she slid from the bed and ran to the door. Trying the knob, she found it locked and turned to run through the open door into the sitting room. Just at that moment, that door opened and a tall, dark-haired man stood outlined in the doorway, holding a small candle. She stopped and stood deathly still, wondering if it was he—the only one whose face she remembered, the one who was so kind to her.

George Wickham had already relieved an older female guest across the hall of her jewels and had just slipped open the door to the sitting room, when he was confronted by the sight of Elizabeth, standing still and quietly watching him. The flickering light of his candle revealed that she wore nothing but a nightgown. Wickham stood perfectly still, anticipating her scream, but he began to relax when she did not cry out or try to run. He thought it odd that she did not attempt to cover herself, though clad only in thin cotton. Holding the small candle higher to see more clearly, George was more surprised by the strange look in her eye.

Does she think I am Darcy? I suppose in the darkness, we look somewhat similar.

Quickly, he blew out the candle and walked towards her. He was mesmerized by her lack of fear. She did not react as a normal lady would have; in fact, she seemed confused or perhaps not in her right mind.

He smiled. Perhaps taking advantage of her would be easier than he had thought. Slowly, he reached out to take her hand and began to lead her from the room. He was surprised when she followed without protest. Once out of the room, he caught sight of a door at the end of the hallway and led her in that direction. He was delighted to find it opened onto a small porch.

~~~*~~~

Tossing and turning, William had not been able to sleep. Yet again, he turned and closed his eyes tightly, knowing that he would likely fall asleep in the carriage tomorrow if he did not sleep at least a few hours tonight. Just as he was drifting off, he heard a whisper in his ear. Something is wrong!

“Elizabeth!”

Sitting up, he looked about the room, and realising that no one was there, wondered at the sense of foreboding that gripped his heart. He could stay in bed no longer. Grabbing his robe and sliding on his slippers, he jerked the door open. The hallway was dark and quiet. Standing perfectly still, the only sound he heard was his rapidly beating heart. He waited. After a few seconds, he began to feel foolish and stepped back, preparing to close the door. Just as he did, the voice spoke once more. See to her .

Without hesitation, he stepped across the hall and tried her door. It was locked. Looking down the hall to the sitting room door, he moved to it and was surprised when it opened easily. Panicking, he entered and crossed to her bedroom. Instantly, he knew she was gone. As if drawn by an invisible cord, he found himself back in the hallway, his gaze at once falling on the door at the end.

A muffled sound reached his ears, and he shouted, “Elizabeth!”

Reaching the door in a few long strides, he pushed it open to find a man running down the steps to the ground and Elizabeth softly crying. She was alone, her hair blowing wildly in the wind and her eyes wide in fright. Immediately he pulled her into a tight embrace, whispering words of comfort as she trembled. She melted into him, sobbing.

Shouting her name had brought everyone into the hall. Servants, guests, and Mrs. Drury all stared at the open door to the porch and the couple locked in an embrace. Oblivious to their audience, William picked Elizabeth up and carried her past them without acknowledging anyone or stopping until he had laid her down on her bed.

“Sir, is there anything I can do?” Mrs. Drury asked as she leaned over the bed from the opposite side.

“Please have someone tell Mr. Gates to meet me in the sitting room, and order some tea so that you can mix in the herbs that help her to sleep. After you return, I will leave her with you while I meet with Mr. Gates.” She quickly left to find one of the servants.

“Elizabeth?” She would not look at him, so he cupped her face until she did. He could see the tears pooled in her eyes. “Did he hurt you?”

She did not reply, only closing her eyes, but he noted that her gown was not in disarray, and there were no marks on her skin. He prayed that he had arrived in time.

“We will not leave you alone as you sleep again. I promise. Until we get you to Pemberley where you shall be safe, Mrs. Drury or I shall stay in your room every night to guard you. Would you like that?” She opened her eyes, and he felt the pressure of her hands squeezing his. He was comforted to think she answered in her own way.

He squeezed her hands in return and saw a flicker of recognition in her eyes. “Yes, you understand what I am saying, sweetheart.”

William started to stand, but Elizabeth refused to loosen her grip. He brought both her hands up to his mouth, kissing first one, then the other, just as Mrs. Drury walked back into the room.

“I shall return, Elizabeth.” He glanced to the companion. “Mrs. Drury will stay with you until then.”

Mrs. Drury moved to take his place on the edge of the bed, carefully pushing Elizabeth’s hair from her eyes. Finding the doll on the floor, she placed it next to her. She soothed Elizabeth as if she were a child. William walked to the sitting room, stopping in the doorway for one last look at his beloved before he stepped inside to confront Mr. Gates.

It was nearly a half-hour before William returned to find Elizabeth’s eyes closed. Mrs. Drury promptly stood.

“Shhh,” he said, lifting a finger to his lips. He motioned for her to follow him to the sitting room. He stood in the doorway, one eye on Elizabeth as he spoke quietly. “I do not want her to hear.”

Mrs. Drury nodded. “Mr. Darcy, I am so sorry. I blame myself for not being aware of what was happening earlier. If she had been hurt—”

“Madam, it is not your fault. There was nothing to hear. The blackguard had a key to the room.”

She gasped. “But how?”

“It is the only logical explanation. There was no forced entry. I checked all the doors before going to bed, and they were secure. Somehow the thief acquired keys. He had already stolen jewels from another room.” William’s expression hardened as he continued. “What I do not understand, though, is why he did not run when he saw Elizabeth instead of taking her with him.” He shook his head. “If I find the—”

“Do you know who it is?”

“No. But a man of that ilk will continue his mischief until he is caught, and I fear that a servant in this establishment might have aided him since he had keys. Mr. Gates has promised a thorough investigation.” He sighed, wearily rubbing his eyes with his palms before speaking again. “I do not intend for her to be alone ever again at night while we travel. What happened proves she is incapable of protecting herself against anyone who would do her harm.”

Mrs. Drury murmured, “Poor child.”

“I need you to stay with her for the first few hours after dark. Then when everyone else is asleep, I shall slip into the room for my watch, while you get some rest. At first light, I will return to my room, dress and go downstairs to arrange our departure and a basket for the journey. You shall, of course, be with her until we are ready to leave.”

“But, sir, that will leave you very little time for rest.”

“I have slept in many a chair—even on the ground when necessary—so it will not affect me very much, especially as it will only be for a few days.” He smiled. “You are the one who will find no rest while watching her, I fear.”

It was her turn to smile. “Lose no sleep over me, sir. I may be old, but I am of sturdy stock!”

William stepped over to open the door to the hall and seeing no one about, closed it quickly. “For tonight I shall stay, as there is no one about to know. Please try to rest. We leave in a few hours.”

Mrs. Drury bobbed a curtsy and entered her room, closing the door.

William turned to enter Elizabeth’s room, checked the door to find it secure, and then pulled a large upholstered chair over to the bedside. However, after dropping tiredly into its cushions, his eyes refused to close. Instead they sought Elizabeth. Thoughts of what might have been her fate had he not listened to the inner urgings made his stomach churn. No matter the reason, he had failed her.

Gently he moved to sit on the edge of the bed. She looked peaceful, her dark curls fanned out across the white linens, and the lines on her face smooth in sleep. The doll she normally clutched lay on a pillow nearby. Memories of the young woman he had met at the assembly in Meryton came flooding back as he drank in her features. He was powerless to stave off the same fear that overwhelmed him as he had searched for her. His heart began to throb with such force that it seemed it might leap from his chest, and against his better judgment, he reached out to caress a lock of her ebony hair.

Her eyes opened sleepily. She reached to caress his face, and in spite of his weariness, he smiled and covered her hand with his. Then she slid over in an attempt to make room for him to lie down. Hesitating only a moment, he lay alongside her, and she turned to snuggle into his chest, closing her eyes. Though it was difficult to ignore the feel of her body next to his, he would not deny her the safety of his arms. Steeling himself not to react, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer and closing his eyes.

They remained entwined until the first rays of light prompted him to rise, before the rest of the inn and any prying eyes awakened. Elizabeth still slept as he slipped out of the room, and he encountered Mrs. Drury coming into the sitting room. He acknowledged her slight curtsy.

“She had a restful sleep, no doubt from the herbs. I hope you did as well?”

“Yes, I managed to sleep a little, thank you.”

“I am glad. I will return to my room before the servants bring around the warm water I requested and our trays of food. After you both have eaten and dressed, send word and I shall escort you to the carriage. I would like to leave as soon as possible.”

“Very well, sir.”

~~~*~~~

Wickham sat on his horse for some time, still in sight of the inn but hidden by the trees. He grinned at all the lights suddenly flickering inside, the sounds of loud voices, then chuckled to see men running to and fro, inside and out. Suddenly sobering, he cursed the luck that had brought Darcy out onto the porch so quickly that he had not the time to steal even a kiss from the captivating vixen.

How did Darcy know that he was just about to discover what was under that thin gown? Hell, the man must be a wizard!

It was Darcy’s shout that had interrupted his pleasure and sent him flying down the stairs. He would know that voice anywhere, and he was not about to let Fitzwilliam Darcy apprehend him. The man could be ruthless when it came to those he loved. Once he had threatened his life, just for stopping by Pemberley when Georgiana was alone. Wickham laughed. There had never been any danger of Georgiana Darcy falling for his charms. She was much too intelligent to believe his lies.

His thoughts returned to the mysterious woman that travelled with Darcy. Elizabeth. The name suits. She is clearly a beautiful woman, if a little odd. But who am I to tell Darcy what kind of woman he should pursue. Perhaps only one who is not in her right mind would have him! Chuckling, he tipped his hat and kicked his horse into a canter.

I hope we meet again soon, Miss Elizabeth!

~~~*~~~

As they crossed the highest point along the drive to the front of the house, the sight of Pemberley in the distance caused William to smile. The prospect never failed to inspire and never more so than today. He tapped his cane on the ceiling, bringing the coach to an abrupt halt. Opening the door, he lightly dropped to the ground before a footman could lower the step, and he turned to assist Elizabeth. Without hesitating, she let him place his hands around her waist, lift her from the coach and deposit her on the ground. Then he guided her to the place where large boulders marked the edge of the road. He watched her expression until she seemed to focus on the house before speaking.

“This is my home, Elizabeth. This is Pemberley, and it is to be your home now. I hope you will love it as much as I do.” He felt the now familiar squeeze of her hand, though her gaze never left the scene, and he returned the gesture before guiding her back to the coach. Mrs. Drury had been taking in the view from the window and was suitably impressed. She spoke as they settled back into their seats.

“Your home is lovely, Mr. Darcy.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Drury. But there is so much more of it to admire than just this view.” He watched Elizabeth. “I hope you both will be very happy here.”

Smiling at the way his gaze never left Elizabeth as he spoke, Mrs. Drury responded, “I am sure we will, sir.”

For a moment, William thought Elizabeth might say something, but in the end, the only sign of her approval was a very slight upturn of her lips. His heart sang. This was the first sign of a smile since he had found her that night in the rain, and he could not tear his eyes away.

You are home, my love, and I hope to make you smile for the rest of your life. You will never be unhappy again, if it is in my power to make it so.