Page 30 of London Holiday (Sweet Escapes Collection #2)

Chapter thirty

I f she had been humiliated before, she wished to die a thousand deaths now. What right had he to be the one to witness her mortification at the hands of Collins? There had been some sense of foreboding when that sweating, beady-eyed fool had dragged her into the veritable mansion on Grosvenor Street.

Then, when he had fairly pushed her before him into the drawing room, and the fine, distinctive figure which had been her refuge this day had been the first to greet her eyes, it had demanded all her willpower not to turn the other way and flee like a small child. What cruel destiny had made his aunt one and the same as Mr Collins’ own Lady Catherine de Bourgh?

Darcy. That was his name. Fitz william Darcy, a name which must have cost ten thousand pounds just to hire someone to inscribe all its characters. A fine specimen, indeed! What a fool she was! One needed only glance at the thick Indian rug—which was all she found the courage to stare at—to know that he was as far beyond her as the Prince Regent himself.

He was gazing at her now, drawing her attention to one safe corner of the room as that horrible woman was issuing her invectives and decrees. His chest was heaving with a torment which, intimately as she understood him, could have been no less than her own. There was fury sparking in his face, ire curling his fists, but there was something more; something meant only for her. Regret. Sorrow.

So, this was how it was to be. Neither of them had any choice in the matter; he would marry the heiress, she the parson, and they would be thus perversely connected for life. Her own gaze faltered, but not before reflecting back to him the same frustration and remorse. She had been right to refuse his offer—she knew it, and her family’s security would forever be her assurance of that—but for just a moment, she wished there had been some way she could have accepted.

He had turned back to his relation now as if he could no longer bear to look at her. “Aunt Catherine,” he thundered, shaking even the other young woman and nearly causing Collins to faint, “you will desist at once! Is it not sufficient that you abuse my hospitality to such a degree that you have insinuated yourself into my private affairs, and now you think you have enough power over me to force a marriage where there was no misconduct on my part? Must you also degrade this young lady by issuing orders to a guest?”

“Guest?” scoffed his aunt. “If she is a guest, it is because I have had her brought here. She must and should be flattered by the honour of my condescension.”

She could see him coiling with rage in her defence but could no longer remain silent herself. “I beg your pardon,” Elizabeth interrupted just as Darcy was preparing a counter-attack, “but I am here against my wishes and find this an honour I can easily forego. I do not know if it is your usual custom, Lady Catherine, to browbeat your company into waiting upon you, but if it is, I believe I perfectly understand the reason. It must be difficult to procure guests for your amusement if such is their first experience with your hospitality. If it is quite the same to you, your ladyship, I should like to return to my uncle Gardiner’s home at the earliest opportunity.” She finished this little speech with a hesitant glance his way, then again fastened an impertinent gaze on his aunt.

He smiled as if he wanted to cheer and applaud, but he was the only one. Collins nearly dropped dead of horror—a pity he did not, for that would have been one problem solved. An older gentleman, whom Collins had informed her would be Mr Darcy’s uncle, the Earl of Matlock, was shaking his head in grave disapproval of her saucy tongue. The bride’s mouth had dropped open in indignation, but Lady Catherine… oh, that lady’s reaction was opposite in equal measure to Mr Darcy’s own. She purpled in an instant, her eyes wild with insensible fury.

“I have never… you, Miss Bennet, are a wicked, disgraceful woman! Collins, is this typical behaviour for the young lady you would make your wife?”

The parson’s waxen face had lost all colour. “In-indeed not, My Lady! Perhaps she is fatigued. Yes, I do believe that must be it, for she is not quite herself!”

“In fact, I am not at all weary,” Elizabeth replied serenely. “I have had a most refreshing day, until approximately an hour ago. If I have little patience with your arts, My Lady, it is because I had the pleasure of enjoying companionship of a far more restful and genuine sort and am in no humour at present to tolerate anything less agreeable.” She rewarded Darcy then with one more glance, a lowering of lashes, and then was quiet.

That glance proved to be a mistake. Darcy’s eyes had warmly touched hers, and when he looked away again to his aunt, her icy gaze was fixed upon her nephew.

“I see it all now,” she murmured, her tones low and menacing. “Miss Bennet, did you name your guardian as a Mr Gardiner? Of Cheapside?”

“Indeed,” she answered without reserve.

“Then you are the very strumpet my nephew took for his amusement. I have it in a note, and not so much of it was illegible that I cannot make out such a similarity in the name. You are a disgraceful harlot, Miss Bennet, and I shall see that your marriage to my parson will never come to pass!”

Collins was glancing helplessly between the patroness he adored and herself—the woman he had claimed as his reward for his merits. “But… your ladyship!”

“I am no harlot!” Elizabeth retorted hotly, but Darcy was protesting with equal vehemence and in nearly the same breath .

“Lady Catherine! I will not tolerate a word against this lady. If her presence displeases you, you may feel free to leave the house.”

“I have heard enough!” roared a new voice. All eyes turned to the earl, who strode now to his sister’s side.

“Darcy, this foolishness shall cease at once. Were you or were you not in the company of this… woman all day?”

His eyes were lingering on her—she could feel them, and he could not seem to tear them away. By the time he found the words of truth, they were unnecessary. “I was.”

“And who is she? How is she known to you? I presume she is your mistress?”

Elizabeth’s face flushed, and she realised he had still been looking only upon her, until he rounded on the older man.

“Uncle!” he objected. “Miss Bennet is a lady! How dare you make such an accusation?”

“I am still waiting for you to explain to me how a lady, such as you describe, would have been your entertainment for the day. Anne, my dear, if you do not wish to remain for the answer, you may go.”

Elizabeth surged forward with a heedless urge to defend herself from this brutish aristocrat’s accusations, but three voices raised at that moment against her own. Collins was waving his hands in excitement, the fair-haired “Anne” was whining to her mother and spinning as if she would faint, and Darcy himself stalked toward his uncle. Elizabeth tried to make herself heard above the din, but one voice—Darcy’s—checked her. He held up a staying hand as he passed her and closed upon his aunt and uncle, demanding the floor.

“You seek a scandal? Very well, I shall tell you all, but prepare yourself for something dreadful, for what I have to say will not portray our own family in a favourable light. When I discovered myself to have been drugged, and my own staff unreliable,” he levelled a searing glance at both his aunt and cousin, “I left the house at once for Richard’s apartment. I overestimated my abilities, and Miss Bennet and her family discovered me and very kindly brought me to safety. They had no notion of my identity, only that I was in some distress, and their own goodness exhorted them to act. It was in their house that I passed the night. After I left it, I found it necessary to return to find out if Mr Gardiner would offer his support of my testimony. Miss Elizabeth has been nothing but a helpful friend, and I will hear no abuse of her character.”

“And where is this Mr Gardiner? What of his testimony? If you have it, I would see it in writing or hear it from himself. I still think this tale of yours utter lunacy, Darcy.”

“Unfortunately, we were unable to procure it. Miss Elizabeth had offered an introduction at his place of business, but—”

“This woman has pulled the wool over your eyes, Darcy!” Lady Catherine sneered at her, then summoned Mr Collins with a crook of her finger. “You know not whom you have chosen to champion, but I am familiar with this woman’s family. They are a brood of vixens all, and though Mr Collins had most generously offered redemption for the one who appeared the most worthy, she has today proved that she is little better than the worst. Nay, more wretched even than that, for the others only entangled themselves with passing tradesmen. This wicked Jezebel would ensnare what belongs to another, against all claims of nature and decency! Collins, you will have nothing further to do with this woman, and let her family’s disgrace be complete. You will have the satisfaction of seeing her fall, as is her nature, but it shall not be my own nephew she lures to his demise!”

Elizabeth felt ill. Collins and that homely blonde woman were smirking in triumph at her shame, the proud uncle curling his lip in disgust as he looked down upon her, but William… she cast one imploring glance his way. Surely, he could not believe or condone the lies spoken, the slander used as a cane over her back! Yet he would not look at her. His face was heated, but he stared at the floor, his fist clenched behind him.

“Aunt Catherine,” he growled, “whatever Miss Bennet is or is not, it can be no concern of yours. And Mr Collins,” he shifted his menacing glare, “I am certain your bishop would be interested to hear how willingly you almost desecrated the sacrament of marriage by validating a falsified marriage license. The document Lady Catherine claims to have was not applied for by myself, and therefore cannot be authentic. Shall I send a letter regarding the oversight of your responsibilities as a clergyman?”

Collins paled, but before he could speak, there was a commotion outside the door. Several voices could be heard at once—one of them Elizabeth thought she recognised as Darcy’s cousin from earlier in the day. Another… she nearly sagged with relief as she identified her uncle’s tones.

A moment later, Colonel Fitzwilliam crowded through the door without ceremony, and behind him thronged more men she did not recognise… but Edward Gardiner was among them. He found her almost at once, and the look of anger and fear melted into something harder, more determined.

“See here, what is this?” demanded the earl. “Richard, what the devil?”

“It is not I who have the right to speak first,” the colonel bowed in Elizabeth’s direction. “Father, I was just introduced outside to Mr Edward Gardiner, and he has some rather choice words for the assembled party.”

Elizabeth felt her uncle’s heavy stare once more and flinched. It was not her reasonable, good-natured uncle who had come to collect her, but the exhausted, irritated, affronted businessman who had only now been assured of her safety. The conversation he would demand of her later was certain to be unpleasant.

“By your present attire, I presume you must be Mr Darcy,” Mr Gardiner bowed shortly. “I understand we have some manner of business.”

“Indeed, sir.” Elizabeth studied Darcy—he looked relieved, humiliated, doubtful, but he glanced once to her and seemed to collect himself. “I regret the inconvenience— ”

“Sir, if you please, I am weary, and I am not certain how well disposed I am toward you at present. I should like nothing better than to secure my niece, satisfy your request, since she seemed to think your mission one of import, and retire. Colonel Fitzwilliam here tells me that you were seeking an alibi from me and that you are the man my wife and nieces scraped from the paving stones at half past eleven last evening, dressed as a servant and looking full of drink. Elizabeth, is this he?”

She nodded, too embarrassed to look anyone in the eye.

“Very well. I shall swear to it in the presence of any witness you desire.”

“And are we to believe this?” interjected Lady Catherine. “Upon the avowals of a known seductress, with a besmirched reputation, we are to relinquish our own claims at the pleasure of a tradesman? Collins! Tell of this harlot’s family!”

“Ah, your ladyship is wise,” he bowed, raising an index finger. “I—”

“Mr Collins,” Uncle Gardiner pronounced, “I have heard something of your own conduct. Is it or is it not true that you were free to invent some facts of your own, as you were in a position to offer aid to my youngest niece and declined to do it? And did you stand on my own street and discredit Elizabeth’s name in public? I will tolerate no further attempts to slight my family’s honour to satisfy your own ends.”

“I was only seeking the safety of my betrothed—”

“Mr Collins, your belongings should be ready for your departure at your earliest convenience. I would advise you not to linger before collecting them, for my staff have been instructed to burn anything that remains by morning. The constable has heard my complaints, and I have no doubt there are others in this company who could make use of his services. Elizabeth! Let us take our leave. ”

She could not bear to look at him. He started to follow as her uncle turned away, drawing close enough to murmur for her alone, “Elizabeth, forgive me.”

She glanced to the floor at his feet… those horrid shoes… the too-short breeches, but her eyes travelled no farther. “Goodbye,” she whispered. Her uncle took her by the arm, and she did not look back.