Page 36 of Lord Lonbourn’s Daughter
Wingerworth estate, Chesterfield
Two carriages wound their way on the last part of the journey. They had decided to venture forth with many witnesses.
“Lydia’s incessant wailing has brought me to my knees,” Lord Longbourn growled for Darcy’s ears only at an inauspicious inn on their way.
“I am contemplating acknowledging her marriage for the peace of my household, or better yet releasing her fortune, the deed to the Ronaldsay estate, and gifting them a carriage to take them north. It is too late for an annulment in any case…”
Arriving at the steps of Wingerworth, their party was surprised to learn that they were expected by His Grace, the Duke of Chesterfield.
Darcy had received an invitation weeks ago, and apparently Lord Longbourn had one in his stack of unopened correspondence of which he was unaware.
The man was not well. Infirmity had claimed his body but not his mind.
Therefore, he had requested that Lord Longbourn, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and Mr Darcy attend him in his chamber.
The butler escorted the gentlemen while the ladies were offered refreshments in the parlour. Rooms were being aired as their luggage was carried inside.
The Duke of Chesterfield’s condition was glaringly obvious to the gentlemen that entered his private sanctuary. His Grace was not long for this earth.
“I have been expecting you, gentlemen. As you can see, my time is limited. You are aware that I leave no direct heirs, and my cousin, Lord Hazard, stands to inherit the dukedom. Lord Longbourn, Lord Matlock, and Mr Darcy are the last of my distant cousins, and I have no other close cousins apart from Lord Hazard. I have but little time to choose, but I would like to speak to each of you in private, excluding the gentleman over there.”
His Grace pointed a crooked finger at Viscount Crawford, who was lurking in the shadows with a couple of sturdy footmen on each side. The footmen each grabbed one of the viscount’s arms and guided him out of a side door.
“I shall begin with Colonel Fitzwilliam.”
“Your Grace, I cannot speak for my father.”
“I am not expecting you to, Colonel Fitzwilliam. I know your father well. It is the next generation in which I am interested.”
The other two gentlemen removed themselves to the adjoining sitting room, where Viscount Crawford was being kept under the vigilant watch of the footmen. While Lord Longbourn partook of the refreshments on offer, Darcy politely declined in favour of addressing his wayward cousin.
The viscount noticed his approach and gulped down a tumbler of port at an alarming speed.
“Crawford, a word if you please?” His tone of voice belied that it was a request.
The footmen nodded and removed a little to the side but not so much as to be out of hearing range. Darcy had much on his mind and decided he would risk it.
“I need you to explain how you came to abduct innocent girls for no apparent reason. I am in no doubt of your culpability. It is only your motive I am questioning. You cannot envy me so much as to resort to such despicable actions.”
“You have nothing I envy, Darcy. Nothing at all! I have a flawless reputation, not tarnished by gambling, fighting, or racing. I have a pretty and pleasant wife with impeccable connections. My future political prowess will vastly improve our family’s standing in society.
You may watch me take England to new and unprecedented heights. ”
The viscount seemed calm and collected, yet his speech was that of a lunatic. Darcy felt he should remind him of facts his cousin seemed to have overlooked.
“Your father has the seat in the House of Lords, Cousin. He is hale still.”
“I shall inherit the earldom when my father’s time comes.”
A small smile tugged at the corners of the viscount’s mouth. He bent his head to conceal it, but it was a little too late. It was the single most disturbing sight Darcy had ever seen.
The viscount lifted his eyes from the floor once he had reined in his delight at his prospects.
His eyes were yet again cold and mirthless, his countenance deprived of any sign of emotion.
It irked Darcy no end, and he had to ask, “What about the girls? Georgiana, Lady Kitty, and Lady Lydia—were they only pawns in this high-stakes game of yours?”
“The girls have come to no harm, Darcy. They were well taken care of at all times.”
“You must be delusional! Lady Lydia, the daughter of an earl, is married to a reprobate steward’s son,” Darcy hissed between his teeth. It became increasingly more difficult to keep his voice down when the viscount showed no remorse nor understanding of what he had done.
“Lydia did not seem to mind the connection. She is the most hoydenish wild cat I have ever encountered. One might say she got what she deserved.”
“She is sixteen, Montgomery! Does she not have the right to reach adulthood before you condemn her behaviour? I am sure even you did things you regret during those difficult years!”
The viscount scoffed his derision at his cousin’s assertion.
“I have no regrets. My behaviour has always been impeccable.”
“What about the trauma the girls suffered by being deprived of their freedom? Lady Kitty was held in a laudanum-induced stupor for nigh on a fortnight,” Darcy growled.
“They will recover from it eventually. Besides, it was not my doing. I cannot be held responsible if the girls were behaving so outlandishly that they needed to be drugged to behave.”
Darcy was at a loss for words. The cousin he had known since his childhood as an exemplary man had proved to be prideful, conceited, and devoid of every natural feeling.
What would Elizabeth think of him when she found out about his family’s deficiencies?
Would she demand they live apart for the rest of their lives?
There were only a few pieces of the puzzle left, though; he must prevail regardless of how disgusting it was to stay in his cousin’s presence.
“It was your wife, Annabella, who escorted Kitty to the charlatan, was it not?”
“I have a particularly useful sort of wife, Darcy. Though I have forbidden her to write any more rubbish for the quidnuncs at The Times. It does not suit the future Countess of Matlock.”
“The viscountess is AA?”
“Yes, you had no idea, did you?” The viscount smirked.
“Her initials are not AA,” Darcy protested.
“A-nnabell-A!” The viscount emphasised the a at the beginning and end of his wife’s name. “I realised it a couple of years ago when I noticed some information had been leaked to the press that few were privy to.”
“What about Mrs Younge? What have you done with her? Is she lying dead in a ditch somewhere?” Darcy accused him.
“Do not be ridiculous. Mrs Younge is a genteel lady who lacks only fortune. I have my principles in perfect order, Darcy. She is on her way to the new world to begin afresh with enough coin to live comfortably.”
The viscount’s nostrils flared, and red spots were appearing on his neck. Darcy had finally managed to utter something that rattled him. He was of no mind to relent until he knew everything.
“You were behind the havoc at Lord Longbourn’s ball where all the guests’ garments were left in disarray.”
“A scandal surrounding the earl, scratching his lacquer, suited me when I realised that His Grace’s life was at an end.
I was not too concerned about the Earl of Longbourn’s chances of inheriting Chesterfield’s fortune—he has no male heirs after all.
Besides, it was all I could manage from a distance.
Servants are so greedy. They will do anything for a few coins and a laugh at their employer’s expense. ”
“Your deceit knows no bounds. What about the footman? His death is not so easy to dismiss, or does your distorted mind deny it?” Darcy whispered, low and menacing.
“I have no wish to deny it. He was a servant of no importance. I certainly did not order his demise, and I dare say he will not be missed,” the viscount replied indifferently.
“I dare say he will. The man had a family, Montgomery. A wife and a child who will now be left to starve if she cannot find an employer that will allow her to keep him with her. You know as well as I that few people will hire servants with small children.”
The viscount only shrugged as if he found the topic of conversation tedious, which fuelled Darcy’s anger.
“What about my marriage? Elizabeth was forced to marry a man she did not even like! Or have you conveniently forgotten your extortion letters?”
“Arranged marriages happen all the time, Darcy. Why should you be any better off than every other man of standing in society?”
“For your information, I am exceedingly better off than most men of our acquaintance. I am married to a lady I love with every fibre of my being. An exceptional lady you could not find the likes of in superior society. She makes me happy, more so than I have ever been,” Darcy boasted.
“I would not have thought you such a good liar, Darcy.”
Frustrated, Darcy threw his hands in the air. There was no reasoning with his cousin. He mumbled an old rhyme, “ Derbyshire for lead, Devonshire for tin, Wiltshire for plovers’ eggs and Middlesex for sin.”
He encountered the colonel as he strode away from the accursed viscount.
“I heard everything, Darcy. My brother is out of his senses and should be committed to Bedlam. To think he would stoop so low—even engage Mr Wickham as his accomplice. Paying him with Lady Lydia’s hand and fortune. Preposterous!”
“You are the much better man, Richard. If only he could be disinherited, but as long as he can decide what is the back and forth of a saddle, his inheritance is safe. Neither do I believe the courts will touch the son of the Earl of Matlock for the sake of a footman.”
The duke requested Lord Longbourn’s company before he saw Darcy at last. Afterwards, he was tired, and the conversations that needed to be had were put off until the next day.