Page 25 of Rumours & Recklessness (Sweet Escapes Collection #1)

Chapter 23

“M iss Georgiana, is there something I can bring for your present relief? A glass of wine? Can I get you anything at all?” Bingley stood helplessly outside her bedroom, arms twitching randomly as though they itched to be of some service but had no direction.

Georgiana shook her head miserably. Bingley cast a plaintive glance to Jane, who wrapped an arm comfortingly over her shoulders. “Come, Miss Darcy,” she gently suggested. “Let us help you get comfortable.” Bingley stood back in agonized resignation, and Jane closed the door.

Jane and her maid helped to ease her into her bed, still fully dressed. Jane brought her a damp cloth to freshen her face and, with a quiet look, dismissed Georgiana’s maid. Jane herself remained in staunch support, neither pressing her for words nor abandoning her to face her feelings alone.

Georgiana swallowed painfully. “You must think me dreadfully wicked!” she whispered.

Jane laughed gently. “Miss Darcy, I have four younger sisters, at least three of whom are regularly capable of far more shocking behaviour than yours!”

Georgiana tried to smile, even to make reply, but all she could manage was a sob. Jane soothed her kindly, sweeping the wisps of hair out of her face and cradling her head—just as Elizabeth had done two days ago. Georgiana’s dry heaves turned to anguished tears. How she had hoped such sisterly affection was not all a fantasy!

“Miss Darcy,” Jane’s voice was sweet but brooked no arguments. “I fear there must be some dreadful mistake. I understand you are quite undone by something, but I believe if you speak to me of it, we can begin to set things right and clear up any misunderstandings. I would not wish you to cause yourself more pain than necessary.”

Georgiana sniffled and endeavoured to bring herself under regulation. It was some minutes before she had composed herself enough to form an articulate sentence. Jane waited patiently, offering a handkerchief when it was needed. At last, she drew a shuddering breath.

“Did… did Miss Elizabeth tell you anything about… about me?” She raised timid eyes to Jane’s face.

Jane blinked, hesitating before making a reply. Her reluctance was plain.

Georgiana began to sob once more. “I th-thought I could t-trust her!” she mumbled tearfully.

Jane placed a hand on the girl’s shoulder. “There were some things that Lizzy told me in the strictest confidence, and only because she was in some deep perplexity regarding her previous understanding of Mr Wickham, as well as Mr Darcy. I know she told no one else—not even our aunt, in whose discretion I would have the utmost confidence. Lizzy would never hurt you, Miss Darcy, and nor would I.”

“Wh-why w-would L-lydia say s-such things? How did she hear th-them?” Georgiana’s features contorted, and her voice rose in pitch as she strove mightily against her tears and the gasping hiccoughs interrupting her speech.

Jane narrowed her eyes. “What did she say?”

With much agony, she listened as Georgiana struggled through the details of what Lydia had related. She pressed her lips together in angry silence. She had absolutely no doubts of Elizabeth’s secrecy, but things did look rather damaging to Georgiana’s trust in her. And this poor girl! Her reputation would be in shreds!

“Miss Darcy, who else could have known of these things?”

Georgiana gulped. “Not even my maid knew! It could only be my brother and Richard… Colonel Fitzwilliam. And Mr W—you know, him .”

“I see.” Jane gazed thoughtfully at the closed door of the bedroom. She turned her eyes back to the sniffling girl and stroked her hair behind her ears. “Can you rest alone for a little while? I should like to see what I can learn.”

Georgiana assented numbly. Sleep sounded heavenly.

“A t last! Where have you been, James? I summoned you hours ago!” Lady Catherine remained seated, gesturing regally to the chair opposite herself. She had no intentions of hurrying to make herself amenable to her brother.

“Summoned, eh?” James Fitzwilliam, the Earl of Matlock, snorted as he entered the room. “I am not your toady, Catherine.”

“You owe it to decency, to honour, to come at once! I am your last living sister, and I required your presence hours ago!”

“I see. Well, then, as it is quite too late for that, I shall be going. Come along, Richard.” The earl did an about-face just before taking the indicated seat, drawing his son into step with him.

“You shall do no such thing!” Lady Catherine’s eyes sharpened upon her nephew. “Fitzwilliam! Have you brought me my niece?”

Colonel Fitzwilliam tilted his head curiously. “My sister remains at the townhouse with my mother, Madam, but I will be sure to convey your well wishes.”

“You know very well what I mean! I know she was with you! Bring me Georgiana at once! ”

“Georgiana? Why, no, she is with Darcy. With me! What a preposterous notion! I am bound for my regiment, Aunt, and I do not believe my cousin would be allowed to remain with me in the barracks.”

Lady Catherine rose shakily on her cane, seething red. “ How dare! I will have none of your insolence, Richard Fitzwilliam! I came here to settle a matter of the very gravest importance, and I require the entire family’s support!”

“Anne has decided to sell Rosings?” the earl guessed, placing a little extra emphasis on his niece’s name. Catherine still pretended Anne was a child. “About bleeding time. She will never get what it is worth, though—too many repairs needed in the village.”

A thin line of froth began to form at the corners of the lady’s mouth. “I am speaking of the purported engagement of your nephew— Fitzwilliam Darcy , in case you decide to wilfully misunderstand me—to a country nobody of no status whatsoever! He has betrayed my Anne and gone against the express wishes of the entire family!”

Fitzwilliam, standing behind his father’s shoulder, raised his hand. “Not mine,” he put in helpfully.

“ Obstinate boy! Be silent. I am ashamed of you!” she thundered. Turning back to her brother, she continued her diatribe. “That chit has lured him on with her arts! No doubt she has compromised his honour and devised some scheme for his entrapment! She has made him forget his place, what he owes to his family!”

“And just what is that, dear Sister?” The earl crossed his arms, levelling a flat stare at her. “Respect? Filial devotion? What a pity he has not at present any source of inspiration for such noble sentiments.”

“ He is promised to my Anne! There, now what have you say to that?”

The earl narrowed his eyes, and his hands fell menacingly to his sides once more. He stepped nearer, his words coming in a dangerous hiss. “I think you and I both know why that would be a bad idea, Catherine.” He held her gaze in a steely lock, unflinching and unblinking.

Her nostrils flared, and her eyes widened even further if that were possible. Richard could see the thin red veins lining the white orbs. Mad energy seized her, and she shot a thin hand out to her brother’s collar. “ You know nothing of the kind! ” she screeched. “Anne deserves to be a Darcy, and it will be so!”

Grimacing, the earl wrenched her wiry grip from his clothing and took a long step away from her. “I will not support you in this, Catherine. Go back to Rosings!”

He turned on his heel and began to march out, but she followed him. “He will never be received anywhere! He will be the laughingstock of all London! You cannot seriously deny the claims of duty, honour and interest! Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley must marry within his own sphere, and he must keep his word to Anne !”

The earl continued walking, his voice carrying over his shoulder. “He has made no promise to Anne. As far as station, from what I hear, the young woman is a gentleman’s daughter, so she must be suitable.”

“Suitable, my eye!” she stormed after him. “I will have satisfaction! I insist you provide me a carriage at once! I am leaving for Hertfordshire at first light to put a stop to this charade!”

The earl stopped and turned, at last, a tiny curl to the corner of his mouth. “Take your own carriage—or did you fly down here on your broom?”

“Buffoon!” she snarled. “This incompetent staff sent my carriage away! They can do nothing right! It will be an entire day, perhaps two, before mine is assembled again. I require your coach.”

“No, Catherine! Not a single wheel nor bit of harness will I lend you to wreak your mischief. Let Darcy alone, or you shall have me to deal with!” At those last words, the Fitzwilliam men departed the house, leaving the refined lady in a towering wrath.

Chuckling, Richard held the carriage door for his father while the older gentleman mounted the box. “You poked the bear tonight!” he laughed as they were seated.

The elder Fitzwilliam grunted. “I would be lying if I said I hadn’t enjoyed that at least a little. I wonder, though, at that carriage of hers. Odd that Darcy’s staff would have sent it away.” He fixed his son with a penetrating stare, a little sparkle in his eye.

“Indeed!” Richard stroked his chin thoughtfully, gazing out the open window of the carriage to avoid revealing his self-satisfied grin.

“What of this girl, Richard? Tell me, is she respectable? I’ll not see Darcy wed to Anne but tell me at least he has not attached himself to some odious bumpkin.”

“You know Darcy better than that. ‘Insupportable!’” he mimicked his cousin’s best stodgy tone, drawing a snort from his father.

“Is she quite fetching?”

“Devastatingly so—at least to Darcy’s mind, I should think. She is just the sort to fix him. Perhaps she is not a conventional beauty, but she is quite striking and terribly clever. I imagine he likes her wit quite as well as her face.”

“But not impertinent? Dear heavens, anything but a brazen, uneducated snippet. Or a fortune hunter! There would be nothing like that to prove Catherine right!”

“Not at all. Well… perhaps she is a little impertinent, but quite delightfully so. She is utterly ladylike, Father. Very respectable, I should say.”

“You said Darcy acted rather on the spur of the moment. Do you think his attachment to her is an enduring one? I should hate to see him make such a move, only to regret it.”

“I never saw a more promising inclination. He is eaten up by it, Father. Poor Darcy! You know he has so little patience with feminine wiles and foibles, and at last, he has found a woman who is completely artless and forthright—so much so that she has made him work for every ounce of her regard, without respect for his pocketbook. Whether she causes a sensation in London remains to be seen, though it is possible I suppose. He cares nothing for that, Father. She fascinates him, and he will have no other at this point.”

The earl leaned back against the carriage seat, straightening his jacket front with a jerk. “I had expected he would do better— far better, it was to be hoped. There was Lord Ellsworth’s daughter, not to mention Miss Chesterton, with her fifty thousand, but I could not get the boy even to call a second time.” He sighed in resignation. “I collect he has no political ambitions, and Pemberley is quite solvent. Monk that he is, I suppose I ought to be grateful he has taken marriage into his head at all,” the earl grumbled.

Richard laughed. “You will not sway him, Father, best not to even attempt it!”

Matlock gazed thoughtfully at his son for a moment, then spoke up with decision. “My boy, see about extending your leave. I think we ought to pay a visit to Hertfordshire tomorrow.”

“W ell, Mr Darcy, it seems at present I must withdraw my objections to your ‘understanding’ with my niece.” Gardiner stood, lifting a sceptical eyebrow. “Know this, however—I will expect your behaviour to be above reproach, and you will wait to make any formal announcement until we know more of Mr Bennet’s condition. If I have any cause for concern whatsoever, I will hold you responsible. Do I make myself clear?”

“Perfectly, sir.” Darcy offered the man a respectful bow.

The uncle was far less indolent than the father. Darcy found himself wishing fleetingly that their positions had been reversed—that it had been Mr Gardiner in charge of the upbringing of the youngest Bennet girls and Mr Bennet to whom he now had to make explanation. Gardiner, for all his intimidating posturing, seemed a highly respectable and gentlemanly sort of fellow. A watchful guardian he would have made. Darcy had a suspicion that the changeful father, on the other hand, might have found the entire situation highly amusing and may have even poured him a drink after they had done.

Mr Gardiner dismissed him, and with great relief, Darcy took his escape. His thoughts had dwelt for the entire conversation on Elizabeth and Georgiana. What could have occasioned such an outburst? He felt reasonably assured that Elizabeth bore no grudge for the attack on her person, but what of Georgiana? She had never lashed out in such a way! His duty as her guardian and his affection as her brother warred within him.

He relaxed greatly when he found Elizabeth anxiously waiting for him just outside of the library. The worry in her eyes pained him but also relieved his own uncertainties. If she had turned against him, she surely would not be here now, looking for all the world like she wished to comfort him.

“Your uncle has granted his conditional blessing,” he sighed.

Elizabeth nodded. She’d had no doubt of that. Her uncle could bluster and storm, but she knew him to be truly generous and soft-hearted. “He only wished to know that I was well,” she assured him.

“Yes, so I understand. I cannot fault him for that.” It would have eased his heart to pull her close, but he dared not even touch her under the circumstances. Marriage could not come soon enough, he decided. What he would have given to draw her aside and speak openly of his fears and doubts!

Interpreting his feelings remarkably well for such a short acquaintance, Elizabeth took a small step nearer and gazed up into his face. “William,” she spoke softly. “We have a much bigger problem than my uncle.”

His expression dropped seriously. “Do you know what is happening with Georgiana?”

Elizabeth glanced hesitantly over her shoulder to the drawing-room beyond. “In part. It seems there were some rumours in town. My sisters overheard them, and I am ashamed to admit that they no doubt had a hand in their propagation.”

Darcy narrowed his eyes, clenching his fists. “What rumours?”

Elizabeth swallowed a lump in her throat. “Insinuations regarding a certain gentleman of your family’s acquaintance and Georgiana.” She dared to look at him. Darcy had gone thoroughly red, his jaw set. He glared at the room beyond as though he would have liked to permanently silence Lydia Bennet.

“ I’ll kill him! ” Darcy snarled. He locked his jaw, desperate to avoid losing his temper in front of Elizabeth—particularly with her uncle just through the closed door behind him. He shook with impotent rage, closing his eyes. “Excuse me, Elizabeth. I will call again when I can.” He reached to yank the front door open himself.

“William, there is more!” Elizabeth put a hand on his arm to stay him. She drew close, her voice low. “Lydia confessed that the rumour did indeed come from Mr Wickham, but he is not the man implicated.”

Darcy felt his stomach knot. “Who is?”

Elizabeth bit her lip, hating what she had to tell him. “Colonel Fitzwilliam.”

“G ood evening, Miss Bingley.”

Caroline poised herself gracefully upon the steps of Darcy house, peering fashionably down her nose at the stuffy old butler, a relic from the days of Darcy’s father. Mentally she grasped for a name. What was it? “Good evening, Mr Dale,” she greeted him airily. “Will you tell Mrs Nielson, the housekeeper, that I have arrived?” She moved toward him, blithely assuming his compliance.

Drake rooted firmly to his spot. “I was not informed you were expected, Miss Bingley.”

“Not… well, I never! You did not receive word from your master this morning that I would be calling this evening? Such an inconvenience! Ah, well, it cannot be helped. Mr Darcy had a particular wish for me to speak with Mrs Nielson about the Christmas party he asked me to help arrange, and so I have come—all the way from Hertfordshire! Will you have her meet me in the rose drawing-room, please?”

She brushed past him in elegant nonchalance, ushering herself into the fine entryway of the home. She cast her eyes about the surroundings in pleasure. Ah, yes, this home would suit her very nicely! Some of the furnishings declared their dated selection by Darcy’s mother, but they could be replaced easily enough.

Drake trailed behind her in some bewilderment, but he could not in good form toss the lady out on her ear. Better, he had apparently decided, to allow her her head. “I shall speak with Mrs Nelson at once,” he informed her stiffly. She bit her lip at her error but recovered quickly.

Caroline breezed into the drawing-room, wholly unaware that it was not unoccupied. She caught herself in a graceless stumble upon beholding the glowering presence before her. An elderly woman wreathed in layers upon layers of black silk and lace prowled before the fire. She turned sharply at the intrusion.

“Who are you?” the woman demanded. Caroline glanced over her shoulder in dismay at the vanishing butler. Was that a spark of mischief she had detected in his eye?

Caroline preened a little. She had no notion of cowering before this woman; neither would she allow her the upper hand. Who was this audacious person who assumed residence at the Darcy house when neither the master nor Miss Darcy were at home? “I am a very close associate of Mr and Miss Darcy’s. Whom might I have the pleasure of addressing?” She tempered her speech with just the precise mixture of polished ease and unwelcoming coolness as to establish her credibility.

“How can you not know who I am? Insolent chit!” Caroline’s eyes widened in shock at the insult. “ I am Lady Catherine de Bourgh, aunt of Mr Darcy and mother of Anne de Bourgh—Heiress of Rosings Park and Mr Darcy’s betrothed! Now, I demand you declare your business here or be off!”

An indignant huff escaped her. The nerve of the woman! To speak to her in such a way, as if she were some insignificant servant! Of course, she had heard for years of Lady Catherine and her ridiculous intentions for that sickly daughter of hers but had never been required to tolerate the woman in person.

“ I have come on a matter of some urgency directly from Hertfordshire! It is imperative that I speak with Mr Darcy’s housekeeper at once. Kindly excuse me!” Caroline turned to go.

“Hertfordshire?” the woman stalked nearer with imperious haste. “What is your name? You cannot possibly be that wretched Elizabeth Bennet!”

“ Hardly! ” Caroline glared sulkily. “How dare you insult me so?” she scowled. “I am Caroline Bingley, and my family has enjoyed intimate ties to the Darcy family for years!”

The noblewoman straightened, and Caroline recognized the calculating gleam in her eye for what it was. “Forgive me. I can see that you are no crass strumpet. Tell me, Miss Barnley, has my nephew made an offer to that odious Bennet person?”

Why, she can’t even remember my name! The woman is senile! Caroline realized. Still, she had a purpose in coming here and would not see it suffer by an old woman’s insulting memory. “Impossible, your ladyship! Indeed, I believe he has quite been taken the fool, and it is my intention to spare his reputation such an unlucky smear if at all I can.”

“It is as I thought! This charade must be stopped instantly before more harm is done! Tell me, Miss Bramley, how is it you arrived here all alone? I do not approve of young ladies travelling post-chaise.”

“I am not alone! My brother has supplied me with a carriage and a man-servant at my disposal. Once I have seen to my private affairs, I shall be retiring to my townhome in Piccadilly.” She placed a little extra emphasis on the name of her neighbourhood.

Lady Catherine snorted with great delicacy. “Only upstarts and nouveau riche claim that as their residence,” she sneered, enjoying the flush on the haughty vixen’s face. With swift decision, she turned a commanding air on this little pretender. “We are departing at the stroke of dawn for Hertfordshire to set this matter straight. You look to be a woman of some sense and decorum, and perhaps your influence may prove valuable. You may attend us if you wish.”

Caroline gave herself pause. Better still than her plan of involving Darcy’s staff in her undertaking was the prospect of allying herself with his family. Lady Catherine certainly had her own objectives in mind, but Caroline had no fear for any competition from Anne de Bourgh. Darcy would never consider marrying his sickly cousin—the man needed an heir, after all! The aunt, however, might just prove a powerful enough opponent to the match with Elizabeth Bennet that he would be forced to give her up.

She drew herself to her full regal height. “What an excellent idea, my lady,” she inclined her head graciously. “I would be most pleased to accept your offer. I shall have my coachman provide my address. What time shall I expect your call?”

“I, call for you? Nonsense,” the peeress huffed. “The country roads are dirty at this time of year. I cannot spare my carriage for such abuse. We shall travel in yours.”

C harles Bingley had issued swift instructions immediately after his private conference with Jane. None of the staff were to go into Meryton, and no callers whatsoever—even the tenants—were to be received. Netherfield was locked down. Louisa would whine plaintively when she discovered her hothouse flowers could not be got, but he would not be shaken.

He called for the carriage to take Jane home while he himself rode next to it. Winter darkness was already settling over the frosted landscape, but it was not difficult, after about a mile, to recognize the rider galloping pell-mell in their direction. Bingley ordered the carriage to halt. “Darcy!” he beckoned.

Darcy, who was at that moment approaching the turn which would take him into Meryton, reined in his mount. “Take Miss Bennet home,” he instructed his driver. Jane offered a parting gesture of her fingers through the shutters as the carriage rattled off.

Bingley caught up to his friend. “I thought we would call at Colonel Forster’s first.”

Darcy stared, he and his mount still breathing heavily. He considered in silence for a moment. “Thank you, Charles,” he yielded at last. “I should be most grateful for your company.”

They set out together in a brisk trot, giving Darcy’s horse a breather after his two-mile gallop. “What do you intend to do?” Bingley asked.

“What I should have done long ago,” Darcy growled between clenched teeth. “I am going to call that blackguard out!”

“Darcy, you cannot! Think of the risk!”

“It is high time he is stopped. I can defeat him at any weapon of his choice!”

“Yes, and spend the rest of your days in prison, if you are lucky!” Bingley retorted. “There can be no victory in that. Georgiana deserves better, to say nothing of Miss Elizabeth!”

The bluish silhouette in the darkness suffered a moment in silence. “I am sorry I never told you, old friend.”

Bingley glanced to his left in some surprise. “I would not have expected you to. No, Darcy, do not be sorry. You must know, though, that Georgiana is like a sister to me. I would have protected her just as you and Fitzwilliam have.”

“How much have you heard?”

“Only what Jane knew—that Wickham tried to use Georgiana to revenge himself on you.”

Darcy set his teeth. “It seems this time he may have succeeded!” He screwed his mouth shut in sudden rage, then, without warning, lashed out an epithet to the darkness.

Bingley regarded him mildly. He had witnessed more emotion from Fitzwilliam Darcy in the past four days than in as many years before. If it was true that still waters ran deep, Bingley began to worry for the devastation which might be unleashed when the fathoms were at last stirred. “Do you know the substance of the rumours?” he asked cautiously.

“Yes,” was the simple reply, and apparently, all the answer he was getting. After another moment, “I need Richard.”

“What does Fitzwilliam have to do with it?”

“I thought once that Wickham’s jealousy was confined to me. I was a fool. He is trying to destroy everyone connected with me.”

Bingley stared at the rising moon over his horse’s ears, considering. “What of Miss Elizabeth—and Jane? Is their family safe from scandal at present?”

“Do you mean have the younger sisters been brought into order? We can only hope. Mr Gardiner seems less inclined to tolerate foolishness.”

“And… Miss Elizabeth? How is she handling this unpleasantness with Georgiana?”

Bingley could hear his friend sigh at last, and he caught a glimpse of white teeth flashing in the moonlight. “Beautifully, Charles. She is perfection.”