Page 87 of Heiress of Longbourn (Pride and Prejudice Variations)
Darcy House
Noon, the next day
Mr. John Warosa, who had been lurking behind an elm tree in a small park, waited for Mr. Darcy’s carriage to pass before he stepped out onto the sidewalk, then straightened his blue coat, adjusted his cravat and strode confidently toward the front door of the great house. Long ago, he had determined it best to speak to women without their male relations present. The men were far less likely to succumb to his considerable charm, not to mention that most women were not very good with figures.
He mounted the half flight of stone steps, taking time to admire the imposing edifice of the Darcys’ London home. In the two days since he had met with Mr. Campbell, he had amassed significant information about the Darcy and de Bourgh families. There was money aplenty, and Warosa had high hopes that he would be able to separate Lady Catherine from some of her riches. It was only fair, after all; the lady had done nothing to deserve her fortune. He had started out life as the third son of a country parson, and only a fortunate bequest from a childless uncle had permitted him to study law. By the time he was thirty years of age, he was a barrister of some renown, and now he was also financier to both gentry and nobles. It was quite an accomplishment for young Johnny Warosa of Scarborough in Yorkshire!
Warosa lifted his head, donned a genial expression on his face and knocked firmly on the massive oak door.
***
Darcy’s butler opened the door into the drawing room, stepped in, and announced, “Mr. Warosa.”
The barrister entered with a firm step and bowed courteously toward the three ladies waiting for him, his quick eyes capturing the scene before him. The older woman sitting nearest the window must be Lady Catherine de Bourgh; she was dressed ostentatiously in a dark green silk dress with a cloth of gold shawl around her shoulders, and her expression was imperious and unfriendly. A much younger, prettier woman sat on a couch nearby, a lady whose white cap marked her as a matron and whose muslin-clad figure indicated she was expecting a child. Lastly, a soberly dressed maid stood behind the younger woman.
“Mr. Warosa, do come in,” Lady Catherine ordered in her most imperious tone, though she did not rise. “I hope you are up to the task of representing me in court. I am quite determined to show my daughter that I...”
“Lady Catherine,” the younger woman interrupted in a soft voice, “I do beg of you not to distress yourself so.”
The woman huffed loudly. “It is all very well for you to say that, Elizabeth; you are not the one being thrown out of her own home!”
“You will always have a home with us,” the woman declared sympathetically.
“I know, but ... well, there is no point in speaking of it now. Mr. Warosa, my niece by marriage, Mrs. Darcy. Do sit down, right there.”
Warosa bowed and took the seat across from Lady Catherine, though he was aware of a twinge of disappointment; Mrs. Darcy was a far more comely woman than her older relation, and he was now positioned such that he could only see Mrs. Darcy by turning his head.
“Thank you for allowing me to visit you today, Lady Catherine,” Warosa said politely. “I am most honored that you are considering using my services to win the...”
***
Two hours later, the Darcys, Lady Catherine and Miss Colby gathered in the southeast parlor for a council of war.
“How was your visit with Mr. Warosa?” Darcy inquired. He had been agitated when his womenfolk insisted that he leave the house to allow Mr. Warosa to call, though he understood their reasoning. Many a trickster assumed that he could better fool women than men, a totally erroneous assumption; in this case, at least. Of course, he trusted Lady Catherine and Miss Colby to defend his bride. It was merely that his darling Elizabeth was pregnant with their child, and he was feeling protective.
“It went very well,” Lady Catherine said with satisfaction. “He was obviously bent on worming his way into my good graces, and I was equally determined to make him think he was succeeding. We spoke mostly of my attempt to challenge Richard and Anne in court, but he mentioned more than once his financial connections and hinted, quite broadly, of the robust and reliable rates of return on investments.”
“What did you think of him, Elizabeth?” Darcy asked, sitting down next to his wife and pulling her closer to him.
Elizabeth leaned against him and fixed her eyes on a painting affixed on the far wall, a vibrant, cheerful picture of a well-populated beach in Brighton.
“He reminds me of the late, unlamented George Wickham,” she said at last. “He is handsome, excessively charming, and well dressed, but it is all a veneer; his eyes are calculating.”
“Wickham proved to be dangerous,” her husband pointed out in a worried tone.
“That is true,” Lady Catherine agreed, “but that was more due to desperation than anything else. I hardly think Mr. Warosa will ever hide in the bushes and attempt to abduct an heiress; if we succeed in stopping him here in London, he will probably try to flee north to Scotland, or perhaps even to the Continent.”
“That would hardly be ideal,” Darcy murmured, though without heat. He wanted to take Warosa down, of course, but he was primarily concerned about Elizabeth and his child.
“We will not allow that to happen,” Priscilla Colby said briskly. “The arms of the League are long, stretching even to Spain and Portugal and France. Once we have evaluated the full nature of his ruse, we will be able to protect others.”
“You do not believe he is merely an honest and brilliant investor, then,” Darcy stated.
“No, my love, he is not a brilliant investor, and certainly not honest.”
“For one thing,” Lady Catherine said with a chuckle, “he said that he would represent me in my civil case against Anne and that I have a good chance of winning. That is, of course, utterly ridiculous; the estate reverts legally to Richard and Anne upon their marriage.”
“What is the next step, then?” Darcy asked.
“Mr. Warosa said that he would study the details of my case, and I am to meet him at his offices in the City in two days' time. Priscilla, I hope you can come too; perhaps while I keep him busy, you can slip out and ascertain where the man is keeping his most precious documents.”
“Is there anything I can do?” Darcy asked.
Lady Catherine smiled roguishly and said, “There is, in fact. If Elizabeth is well enough, I hope you will take her to Astley’s!”
***
Astley’s Amphitheatre
2 days later
Elizabeth Darcy gasped and tightened her grip on her husband’s left hand. In the ring below them, a man clad in a red coat and white breeches, standing on the rump of a great white horse, leaned down to snatch a handkerchief from the ground.
She exclaimed in relief and clapped with many other members of the audience, then looked up and exclaimed, “They are marvelous, are they not?”
Darcy nodded. “They are indeed!”
Elizabeth turned back to the ring and smiled brilliantly as the equestrian was joined with yet another performer, a woman riding on a black horse. The horses circled in opposite directions in the ring, and the man and woman exchanged hats and riding whips to the appreciative cries of the audience.
Darcy, who had been to Astley’s several times before, found himself gazing, not at the ring below, but at the face of his wife. How he loved her! How he thanked God for bringing her into his life!
She was intelligent, beautiful, and unusual, his precious Elizabeth. Instead of putting on a facade of bored indifference, she took open interest and pleasure in the delights of life. He knew that even now, her clever mind was noting the movements of the horses and the tricks of the acrobats. She would delve into books and cogitate about the lives of the men and women who performed at Astley’s. For the next few weeks, they would have periodic conversations about their time here. Life with Elizabeth was never boring.
His eyes dropped to his wife’s bulging abdomen, and he smiled in ecstatic wonder. Soon they would have a child together, a precious babe to raise and love.