Page 6 of London Holiday (Sweet Escapes Collection #2)

Chapter six

A t least the shoes were an improvement.

Darcy had also traded his hat for one belonging to Fitzwilliam’s batman, hoping that the nondescript chapeau would lend him a bit more anonymity. He had no notion where he was to go or what he was to do, and Fitzwilliam had been blasted little help. Somehow, he must find a way of speaking to Wilson, and learn what could be said in his own defence. Surely there was some other who could testify to the conspiracy his aunt had brought to his own household.

But how to prove his location last evening? The only persons capable of vouching for him would be those who did not even know his name. Darcy shuddered. There were a great many things he would rather do than go back to that tradesman’s house, announce his identity, then beg for a witness to his presence. There were two single ladies living in that house, and he did not wish to become their prey any more than he wished to be shackled to his cousin.

He marched aimlessly down the pavement, his mind focused on his walk only enough to be certain that he was not noticed by anyone who might recognise him, when a flash of inspiration dawned. Hertfordshire was only half a day’s ride, and he had more than enough pocket money with him to hire a mount. He could ride fast and hard to Bingley’s newly leased estate and establish himself as a guest there. He had been intending to journey there the following week anyway, and Bingley would be only too happy to have the house opened to him early .

However… the notion passed when he realised that in the eyes of the ton , fleeing Town at this precise juncture would be as good as an admission of guilt. No, he must face his aunt to contradict her falsehoods, and he needed information. He dared not count upon his uncle’s assistance, either.

He rounded a corner and paused upon noting a familiar carriage just setting down its passenger on to the same street. Heaven forbid, it was Lord Wexley’s execrable wife! Darcy glanced about for a doorway into which he might slip, but every one of those would lead him into a shop where people could see his face even more closely.

He turned about, glancing only once over his shoulder to see where the lady had moved after her carriage had set her down. Before he had fully turned back to his path, he collided headlong into a wall of parcels, seemingly all shrouded in a frothy array of cream satin and lace.

“I beg your pardon!” cried a sickeningly familiar voice.

His apology was automatic, and he was already reaching to pick up the boxes he had crashed into when he looked up at the faces of the young shoppers. If Fitzwilliam Darcy had ever wished to be swallowed up by the pavement or disappear into a nearby shrubbery, this was the moment.

Dark brown eyes sparkled, and rosy lips twitched. “I see we are destined to encounter one another repeatedly today! Tell me, sir, shall I assume that you have caught up with us to enquire after a new position? I am afraid my uncle has no present need for a jester.”

Confound the woman! Did she have to be so bleeding glib at every encounter? Darcy tipped his hat, biting firmly down on his tongue. “I beg your pardon, madam. It was quite accidental, I assure you.” He bent to collect the dented hat box and dusted a bit of imaginary dirt off the top. “I hope I have not damaged your purchase.”

“If you have,” the lady returned, “I would think it a poor performance on the part of the hat box. I am certain it has managed to serve its office.” She sighed very lightly, an expression of teasing exasperation, and held out her hand to receive the box.

“Make way!” grumbled a sour voice behind him. Darcy started. He turned about and looked full into the face of Lady Wexley, who had apparently destined that very same millinery shop for her own custom.

Darcy felt his stomach lurch, and his toes curled in dread. She could never fail to recognise him, particularly not after the way she had repeatedly thrown herself into his path last season before Lord Wexley had claimed her hand. He closed his eyes and prepared the explanation he knew would be demanded, but she only groused in the direction of the two young ladies.

“Have your footman stand back!” she hissed at them. The rest of her words were offered to the benefit of no one in particular, and everyone in general, so that all might appreciate her lament. “Abominably rude, these tradesmen’s daughters. Walking about town with a strapping footman in counterfeit colours and putting on airs as if they were gentlemen’s daughters! It seems that simply anyone may now shop in this part of town,” she sniffed.

She passed on by Darcy as if she had not even noticed him, and he began to breathe… only very faintly. She had not recognised him! She would not even look at him, clad as he was! His heart began to beat a little more quickly. Oh, the possibilities!

The dark-haired minx before him did not seem at all put out by her abuse at the hands of Lady Wexley. She appeared, rather, to be struggling mightily against an outburst of laughter. Her eyes danced, and she was obliged to tip her face slightly away as a distinct snicker escaped her.

The younger girl, the one with the lighter hair, still seemed vexed. Hand on hip, she glared after the closing door. “Lizzy, did you hear what that odious woman said about us? I should tell our aunt, if it would not grieve her.”

“Indeed, few could not have heard, Kitty,” chuckled the elder sister. She composed herself and extended her hand once more to Darcy. “May I have my bonnet? It seems my presence in this neighbourhood has distressed some of its residents, so I shall take my leave.”

He gave her the parcel, realising only after she had taken it that he was puzzling curiously over her face. Was it the pert little nose, so unfashionable in the finer circles, or the faint crease in her fair skin where a wider smile lurked behind the demure one? Perhaps it was simply the shape of her cheekbones—high yet soft—contrasted with the sharp intensity of her dark eyes, which was so interesting to look upon.

“Is something amiss with my appearance?”

“No!” He cleared his throat and bowed. “Forgive me, madam.”

One side of her mouth tipped upward. “I take it by your presence here that you are out upon another errand for your master or, perhaps, your mistress?”

He opened his mouth to make a reply but could think of absolutely nothing to say. He abhorred disguise, and her presumptions, if he were to verify them, would be the worst trail of lies imaginable. But the truth—the truth was even more wretched! He settled instead for diversion.

“I have not yet made my way back. I… do not think I am expected.”

“In that case,” the young lady smiled, “you have a holiday. I suggest you use it to best advantage, rather than lurking outside of milliners’ shops.”

“Indeed. If I may be so bold,” he looked about, “I cannot help but note that you are unescorted. Do you often walk out without protection?”

“Gracious, but you are impertinent! Perhaps I have been permitted too much freedom, but I am not alone. My sister is with me, as you see.”

Darcy glanced at the other girl, who was tapping her toe and pouting her impatience. “Of course. May I call for a chaise to take you back to your dwelling? ”

“That will not be necessary, but I thank you. We are rather accustomed to walking and most fond of our liberties.”

“As far as Gracechurch Street? Your… your uncle permits such?”

She stared at him with some incredulity, her brow furrowed and her head shaking faintly at his audacity.

Footman, you are a footman! “ Forgive me, madam, I spoke out of turn. Your uncle seems a… a generous man.”

“My uncle is among the kindest and most noble men alive,” she vowed, those eyes sparking in defence of her relation. “I will not have it said that he is remiss in his duties. Certainly, he would have insisted upon a carriage, had we informed him when we set out that our walk would become such an outing. And if you are, after all, seeking employment, you could do far worse than applying to Mr Edward Gardiner.”

A thought pricked Darcy. “He is an… honest… employer?”

The lady tipped her shoulders lightly. “I am perhaps biased, but I can testify that his staff are all exceedingly loyal and speak well of him.”

Darcy winced. That remark stung more than he cared to admit. He stifled the feeling, intending to dissect it later, and swept them a gracious bow. “In that case, madam, may I offer my escort to the ladies as they return to their residence? I would count it an honour to carry their parcels.”

“Well,” the younger girl spoke up for the first time in some while, “he certainly knows how to be chivalrous when he wants to be, Lizzy.” To this, she added some mischievous grin, which remained a mystery to Darcy, but ‘Lizzy’ seemed to understand perfectly.

“I am sorry, Lizzy, but your uncle has gone out. I understand there was some urgent message from the warehouse. I am in hopes that he shall have returned within the hour so that we might still take our outing, but perhaps it might be more serious than that. I do apologise, Lizzy!”

Elizabeth tried not to show her disappointment. Her aunt and uncle were the most gracious hosts, and she would not wish to seem ungrateful. “Thank you, Aunt, but it is no matter. I will wait to speak with him when he returns.” She stepped back toward the door, but her aunt’s voice stopped her.

“Was there something of import? Perhaps I might be able to advise you.”

“No, Aunt, it was nothing quite like that. I only wondered if Uncle might be seeking another household servant. I shall ask when he returns.”

Mrs Gardiner peered over her sewing with a knowing look. “You are not still bothering with that footman, are you? Lizzy, why ever should you trouble yourself? He was quite obviously intoxicated and probably justifiably turned out.”

“I take no interest beyond the word I have given, which was merely to offer my opinion of my uncle’s generosity and fairness as an employer. If the man should choose to apply, and if my uncle should choose to receive him, it is certainly no business of mine.”

Mrs Gardner thinned her lips sceptically, and she raised an eyebrow at her niece. “Lizzy, I have some duties to be about this morning. Would you mind very much taking your cousins out for air with their nurse? They may go alone, of course, but it is best if someone attends them, and I think you could do with the diversion.”

“Of course, Aunt.” Elizabeth reached down to give her youngest cousin a playful embrace and watched wistfully as her aunt rose to go speak with the nurse.

She sighed. Now, what was she to do with that footman who was waiting below stairs? And why was it that he had considered it such an insult when she had asked him to wait in the kitchens? He should have counted it a hopeful sign, but instead, had clearly struggled against a vocal protest that he was not invited to the drawing room.

Perhaps she was, indeed, wasting her time with him. After all, how often did a servant expect to speak directly with the master when he applied for employment, yet had she not attempted to secure him such an interview? He had not even a written character by his former employer! She was doing him a favour, offering to speak on his behalf on so little inducement. After all, what had he done for her, apart from knocking down her parcels?

Well… he had picked them up again. And carried them—badly, but his only complaint had been an entertaining assortment of grimaces and scowls. She tried to forget how gallantly he had shielded her from the dirtier parts of the street, or how he had suggested a safer route for her to walk home. He was only trying to impress her in hopes of employment, surely, but there had been about him an air of command which would suit his prospective post ill. He ought to be inquiring at the Army instead of a household, but perhaps he would like taking an officer’s orders even less than an employer’s.

Elizabeth determined—again—to dismiss him from her thoughts and released her cousin back into the care of her nurse to make ready for her outing. “Kitty?” she called into the next room. She rounded the corner and found her sister seated near the fire. “Would you like to come for another walk? I am going out with our cousins.”

Kitty, who had been fussing with her new bonnet, looked up to Elizabeth with a sneer of disdain. “You have already tired me sufficiently for one morning, Lizzy. If you do indeed insist on attending the Gardens this evening, I require some rest, or I shall begin to cough, and you know how that drives Uncle to distraction.”

“If we go, it will not be for many hours yet.”

“Nevertheless, I am quite happy here for now. If only Aunt had some darker ribbon!”

“Very well. Aunt has asked me to accompany the children, so I shall see you when I return. ”

“Lizzy, what do you intend to do about your dashing new footman? Did Uncle speak with him?”

Elizabeth shook her head nonchalantly. “Nothing at all, for he is not my footman. Uncle is away at present, and I have already exerted enough effort for that man. I am in no humour to give consequence to footmen who have been dismissed by other masters, and despite your teasing, he is not fine enough that I should be tempted to bother with him further.”

Kitty cleared her throat and coughed, smirking all the while.

Elizabeth, filled with a sudden sense of foreboding, turned around. Her mysterious stranger had apparently broken the injunction to remain in the kitchens and had not only found her out but had heard every word.

He looked to be darkly displeased, eyes piercing, and cultured tones clipped as he glared back at her. “You have long been wishing for my absence, I see. Very well, I shall trouble you no further. Good day, madam.”

Elizabeth blanched in mortification as he turned and marched away. Then, a sense of indignation welled up within her. “What was he thinking of, coming upstairs and surprising us like that?” she demanded of Kitty. “No one of decency would have done so, and least of all one who wishes to be employed at the house!”

Kitty offered no answer but a giggling snort, as she held her hand over her broadening grin and laughed riotously. “I don’t know Lizzy, but I have never seen anyone so thoroughly mortify you! He caught you fairly, whether you confess it or no.”

Elizabeth made a sour face and took up the reticule that she had set aside but minutes before. “Enjoy my moment of humiliation to its fullest, if you will, for it shall be the last. Never again will I exert myself for someone such as that!”

“You would not have been so embarrassed if you had not spoken so ill,” Kitty pointed out—perhaps the most sensible observation she had uttered in the past six months .

This did nothing to improve her sister’s humour. “I will return in an hour or two, Kitty,” she grumbled. “Do try to finish laughing at my expense before I come back.”