Page 31 of London Holiday (Sweet Escapes Collection #2)

Chapter thirty-one

S he was gone. The one gambling piece and the one prize he might have dreamed, in his wildest fancies, to claim at the end of it all, and she was gone. Darcy started after the closing door for one moment of soul-splitting agony, his heart numb as the family eruption ensued at his back.

“And what had you to do with all this, Richard?” his uncle was demanding.

Darcy sighed and turned to face them all.

“I?” Richard answered innocently. “I knew nothing of it until Darcy appeared at my apartment this morning; barefoot, unshaven, and dressed like a table ornament. I did nothing more than my family duty—I mocked him, gave him a pair of shoes, and attempted to pry whatever entertainment I could from him. He is devilish sober, as he always is, but I did learn an interesting titbit or two.”

“Richard…” Darcy shook his head.

“Indeed, the fool has spoken enough!” Lady Catherine spat. “What manner of falsehood he means to tell now, I care not. We return to the present matter, which—”

“Catherine, you may save your breath to cool your porridge,” the earl grumbled. “Darcy has proof of where he was, and this… costume… he wears…. Nothing but madness or desperation would have found him in public so attired.”

“Then madness it is! It matters not what occurred last night. I am determined to see him do his duty, for he has delayed for years!” She whirled next on him. “Think you that I have no other means of seeing this done?”

Darcy felt a cold stab of fear in his stomach. Had they, after all, uncovered some knowledge of Georgiana’s error? Was there some leverage his aunt and cousin were prepared to wield against him? He spared a short glance at Richard, who was shaking his head in some denial, but it was little comfort.

“And how is it, Nephew,” her ladyship expounded, “that you abandoned all thought for what was proper and went instead to Vauxhall Gardens? This is all a fabrication to escape your duty to Anne. Miss Bennet a lady, you claim! Was your intent to bind your honour up to another so that this Mr Gardiner’s demands might be heard over my own? Who is he, that his sentiments bear any consideration?”

“Aunt Catherine,” Darcy’s tones were hard as ice, “leave my house at once.”

“Darcy, you cannot order your own aunt, a peeress by birth and my own sister, to do anything.”

“I can, and I have. She has insulted me in every possible way, and I do not desire to speak with her again.”

All in the room fell silent before his cold, bitter pronouncement. And well they might! Had he not always kept the peace, sought to please his mother’s relations and made concessions even at the expense of his own wishes? But this betrayal, this was the fracture that would sever the genial fellowship the Fitzwilliams and Darcys had long enjoyed. He glanced at his uncle, for the earl alone possessed the sense and the capacity to extend an olive branch.

The silence was broken, however, not by the earl but by a high, keening wail. He raised a brow and cynically appraised Anne. She had been weeping for some minutes, but now her sensibilities overcame her, and she was heaving and snivelling into a handkerchief .

“F-Fitzw-williamm!” she gasped, fanning herself and stumbling as if she would faint. “Y-you cannot b-b-blame m-m-meeee! It was all Mama’s idea—”

“How dare!” hissed Lady Catherine. “Wicked, treacherous girl! You would turn upon me when it was I who attempted to save you?”

Darcy looked curiously at his uncle, then to Richard, but found no help there.

“I told you he would not cooperate, Mama,” Anne whimpered. “He is too cruel and stubborn, he has never cared what should become of me!”

“If you had not been such a manipulative little fool, you could have secured him properly!” snapped Lady Catherine.

“I beg your pardon,” Darcy interrupted, “but I have been clear for years that I had no intentions toward Anne. I am offended and astonished that not only would you persist in this scheme, but that the pair of you would stoop to such deceitful means to achieve your ends. Anne, could you expect to have merited my respect, had you succeeded in ensnaring me for life? Would you truly have wished to spend an entire marriage hearing my honest opinions of your actions? And Aunt Catherine,” he turned a withering glance upon that lady, “I can but think you motivated by something truly horrendous if you could justify betraying me in such a devious manner.”

“You forced my hand, Darcy!” she scowled. “Had you only done your duty in the first, years ago , Anne would never have been permitted—”

“ Mother! ”

Lady Catherine narrowed her eyes. “It was not my doing, after all.”

“ One of you two,” interrupted the earl, “explain at once!”

“I believe I might be able to offer something of an explanation,” Richard broke in. “Darcy, there is a most interesting fellow just in the hall who wishes to speak with you. He had just arrived almost at the same moment as Mr Gardiner and myself, and I believe he ought to be heard.” He flicked his head toward the door, and Wilson, who had been among the horde of followers when Mr Gardiner arrived, opened it.

The man who entered was short, with a thinning pate of hair, a wiry, athletic frame, and quick movements. He glanced once to Lady Catherine, whose eyes flared in rage, and then paused more lingeringly on Anne. Before either lady could speak to discredit their visitor, the earl himself had gestured, unequivocally, for silence. This appeared to set the man at some ease. He quickly identified Darcy as the master of the house and presented himself in due course.

“Sir, my name is George Barrett. You may well be familiar with my name, as I am one of the principal owners of Vauxhall Gardens.”

Darcy looked quizzically to Richard, then back again to Mr Barrett. “That is a singular coincidence.”

“Indeed, sir. I understand you have just come from there. I do hope the venue pleased.”

“I think it the most enjoyable day there… or anywhere… in my memory,” he answered quietly. “But what brings you here, sir?”

“Mr Darcy, you will think me decidedly forward, but I had rather suspected that you would be reluctant to provide the means which were sought by Lady Catherine and Miss de Bourgh. I am well acquainted with the ladies, and last summer I enjoyed the company of Miss de Bourgh, particularly, when we were both taking the waters at Bath for our health.

“Before you rush to any conclusions,” Barrett held up a hand, “I have no improper relationship with Miss de Bourgh. Through a series of rather unfortunate encounters with the landlord—I was a guest in the same hotel and more than once found myself in the midst of the affair—I learned something of the ladies’ circumstances.”

At this juncture, Lady Catherine emitted a loud cry of outrage. “Lies! You would slander and impugn a daughter of nobility—”

“Catherine! I will hear the man,” the earl warned.

Barrett smiled tightly and turned back to Darcy. “I presume you are aware that the de Bourgh coffers are all but bankrupt?”

“I… was not, in fact.” Darcy watched his uncle for his response, but only discerned a faint tightening to his cheek. “I advise on many matters at Rosings, but I am not privy to my aunt’s personal financial affairs.” He paused, allowing his aunt the dignity of making some response, but her only answer was to cross her arms and look pointedly at her daughter.

Anne sighed and shrugged. “I follow the horse racing. I have for years, as there is little given to me for amusement. I have never seen a race, for Mama says my health would not withstand the exposure to the weather, but I did buy some rather fine horses.”

Darcy shook his head in confusion. “How is this pertinent to the matter at hand? We all own fine horses. How many did you purchase?”

Anne puckered her lips and rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. Lady Catherine merely continued to glower at her, but Barrett gently cleared his throat.

“I understand there were at least seventy horses, all totalled, from the beginning,” he answered quietly. “One less conservative estimate is more than double that figure, but the numbers are not reliable. Miss de Bourgh broke down one evening at the pump rooms and shared the entire tale. It seems she had brought on a dishonest racing steward.”

“Anne?” the earl asked. “Does he speak the truth?”

She huffed and sniffled, her hands gesticulating helplessly. “He said he loved me! He was always saying nice things to me. He said the horses I bought were not selling for fair prices or winning good purses because they were no good or needed better feed. Fool, I! I bought him everything he asked for, and he sold it all and pocketed the money. And then when I discovered it and confronted him, his solution was to offer marriage, for he claimed that an invalid and a lady such as I could never expose him without publicly ruining myself. What was I to do? I had reached the bottom of Rosings’ reserves!”

Darcy could not have been more astounded if Anne had casually announced that she was, in fact, with child as he had originally feared. He cocked an eyebrow toward Richard, who merely shrugged back in open-mouthed astonishment.

If this came to light! Not only Anne would be humiliated, but with her all her male relations who had the place of advising her and preserving her from ruin—most particularly himself, the presumed betrothed who did nothing in the eyes of the world to stop the charlatan from taking her for all she had. Little wonder his aunt had claimed some further leverage upon his pride!

“Sir,” Barrett interjected, “I have offered a sensible solution, one which would see the ladies safely into financial security and would answer for my own wish to seek an establishment. I fancy the weather and the setting in Kent and have offered to lease Rosings for a rather handsome sum. The ladies might preserve their annuities and retrench, and I would assume the responsibility of the estate.

“I am not a married man, sir, but I hope one day to alter that circumstance, and I have resources enough to take my leisure at present. A sensible man would have given in at the first refusal, but one who is perfectly aware of the advantages on all sides and determined to prevail, may, I confess, seem rather foolish in his quest. I presume, sir, that it is not your pleasure to marry Miss de Bourgh? If I trespass, then I shall beg your forgiveness and withdraw at once, but as I believed I might yet be the best means of recovery for the ladies….”

“You are correct.” Darcy glared across the room at his aunt, then his cousin, and received back a look which could have scalded water. “Barrett, if you will be so good as to call tomorrow, we can discuss terms. Lady Catherine and Miss de Bourgh will be receptive of your offer,” he informed them all .

“Thank you, Mr Darcy,” Barrett bowed. He paused just before Anne, offered a half smile which was not returned with quite so much grace, and then took his leave.

Darcy merely stared at his cousin. For her part, she bore it without flinching, and in fact gazed serenely back as if waiting for some sort of apology. There were all manner of questions he must now ask, but the why, the when, and the how of the de Bourgh ladies’ reversal of fortune was not entirely a matter for his interference. Nor, thought he bitterly, was he in any humour at present to perform the service. Let the constable hear the rest of that tale! There was one thing, however, that he would make clear.

“Aunt Catherine, Anne,” he glared between them, “I will not be so discourteous as to turn you out without friend or help. Take care—my patience has already been tried, so what I offer is not to be negotiated. I shall provide a modest allowance for you to live on. Five hundred per year should be more than sufficient for two ladies even with your accustomed manner of living, particularly if you should remove to Bath. I will actively promote marriage prospects for my cousin, but you are both to understand that the groom shall never be myself. My help is not unconditional, for if so much as a whisper of suspicion against my character or Miss Bennet’s honour ever reaches other ears, my support shall undergo an immediate and very embarrassing seizure. Am I quite understood?”

Cowed at last, both Lady Catherine and Anne now stared at one another. “Your terms,” Lady Catherine’s voice wavered, “are… generous… nephew.” She looked as if she wished to cleanse herself of his acquaintance, but it was enough, and he drew back, satisfied.

“Catherine, Anne,” the earl intoned gravely, “my carriage is waiting outside. I would advise you both to take advantage of the countess’ hospitality this evening. Darcy and I have some matters to discuss regarding your circumstances and the disposition of Rosings, and I fancy it will require you to remain as our guests at least a few days. ”

Darcy nodded his thanks to his uncle, but the sight of Wilson, standing patiently behind Richard, recalled him to one more detail he must attend in his aunt’s presence before any of his house could begin to function again. “Wilson,” he gestured to the man, “recount, if you please, your discovery of last evening.”

Darcy had the dubious pleasure of again watching the colour rise in his aunt’s face as Wilson, with humble simplicity, laid before them his discovery of the drug in his master’s drink and the subsequent plans for his ruination.

“Lies!” the lady spat, “Outright slander! And you would believe the word of this intoxicated servant, one who is not fit to clean the fire grate, over that of your own aunt? He has taken advantage of my fall from grace for his own aggrandisement!”

Darcy was not required to answer, for at this moment, Dawson entered with Mrs White, the housekeeper, and Mrs Fuller, the head cook. He evaluated each coolly, but not a hint of embarrassment shone on either woman’s face until he began to speak.

“Mr Dawson, have you ever received gratuities or gifts from anyone besides myself?”

The butler appeared to be holding his breath. He spared a reluctant glance toward Lady Catherine, whose eyes narrowed threateningly, but then his gaze faltered, and his courage broke. “Yes, sir,” he confessed. “Christmas and Easter gifts, and a few other occasions. Many times over the years, in honour of Lady Anne Darcy, of course.”

At this, the accused began to sputter. “Is it not my right to be kind to those who served my beloved sister? She was always excessively fond of everyone here at the townhouse, far more so than anywhere else, and expressed to me on her deathbed her wish that they be rewarded by our family for all their kindnesses to her. Should such a burden fall on her son, newly master of the household at such a young age? Indeed, such a thing would be most unfitting, and so I determined to see it done with as little trouble to yourself as possible. You see, Darcy, the obligations undertaken on your behalf!”

“And Mrs White,” Darcy continued as if he had not heard, “how long have you been employed in this house?”

The woman paled. “Twenty-three years next April, sir.”

He smiled kindly. “Then you are nearing the age for receiving your pension. I believe we have spoken of this before, have we not? And had you any cause to be dissatisfied with what was offered?”

She looked down. “No, sir.”

“But am I correct in my assumption that you have accepted a second offering from another quarter?”

She visibly swallowed, casting another guilty glance toward Lady Catherine. “You are, sir.”

“Mrs Fuller, is there any need to ask these same questions of you?”

The cook had refused to raise her sullen eyes, and Darcy could see that her cheeks were quite red. “No, sir,” was the unhappy reply.

“I will expect resignation letters from all three of you on my desk this very evening. Mr Hodges and Mrs Reynolds will arrive from Pemberley by the end of next week, and you may continue in your duties and receive your pay until they relieve you. Thank you, that will be all. Wilson, you may retire, and take tomorrow as a holiday.”

“Excellent advice,” his uncle clapped him on the shoulder as the rest of the party began to withdraw. “Forgive me for not believing you before, Darcy. A devil of a day you must have had! You look as if you could use a holiday yourself.”

Darcy felt his shoulders sag, the tension of battle draining away and leaving only a hollow ache behind. “I have already had a holiday, Uncle. I could not survive another.”