Page 29 of Secrets Across the Sea
Staffordshire, England – 1812 – Day 14
Bouncing in his seat as the carriage passed over a rut, Darcy watched the snow laden landscape with interest. That cottage. He had seen it when they were but a few miles from Lady Charmane’s home the other day. Half an hour and he would see his Elizabeth again!
“I hope there is a copy of The Globe or some such,” Fitz said as the carriage rounded a corner. “The regiment of my friend, Colonel Mosely, has recently returned and I have heard rumour he is to receive a special honour from the Prince Regent.” Turning to Bingley he added, “My only complaint as to Wrotham Park is your lack of news.”
“That is to be rectified,” Bingley frowned, “I have not even owned the place for a week and spent but a single night in it; I promise that by the next time you are there you shall find The Globe ready for your perusal.”
“I was jesting,” Fitz retorted, Bingley preparing to rebut until Fitz raised his hand, “I am sorry if I did not make that clear. I fear I had little sleep.”
“Was there something amiss with your bed?” Bingley worried.
“Nothing of the sort; it was my mind which was amiss, not the bed. The accommodations were excellent.”
Smirking as he viewed his cousin, Darcy wondered if he knew the answer.
“What was it then which kept you awake? A certain Miss Mary Bennet perhaps? Have you at last decided?”
“I say,” Bingley grinned, “Is he correct?”
The two leaning closer to Fitz, he moved as far from them as the space would allow, his head raised as he stared them down. “I plan to ask if I might court her.”
“Not marry?” Bingley asked.
“No. Not now. I am not in a position to purchase an estate, and though I am to inherit a small property, it will be upon the death of a great, great uncle whom I have never even met. It is possible I will be an old man when that becomes mine.”
“Surely if it is a great, great uncle, he is not exactly a young man,” Bingley mused. “Just as you are not exactly a pauper without that inheritance.”
“Far from a pauper,” Fitz agreed. “And within a year I hope to be able to ask for her hand with or without any inheritance. If it were not for the dangers of my occupation, I would seek her hand now. Marry her now. However, until I have reasoned my finances out, I am hesitant to sell my commission. True, the pay is not high, but it does ease my expenses; food, quarters, they do add up.”
“Then stay with me,” Darcy urged his cousin. “Georgie and Cathy adore you, and once I marry Elizabeth, well, she will be like family to you. A cousin or sister depending on how you look at it once you are married too. That would allow you to sell your commission sooner, propose right away, and, even if it takes half a year or more to ‘reason your finances,’ at least you will be comfortable and safe. Elizabeth would be relieved to know her sister would not have to worry for a whole year while you sorted things out.”
Chuckling, Fitz nodded. “As loath as I am to accept lodging with a newly married couple, I suspect the size of Pemberley and the company of my young cousins will keep me from disturbing you too greatly. Therefore, I accept.” Eyes wide, he grinned, “I suppose this means I shall be asking her to marry me… Do you think it is too soon?”
“After I proposed to her sister already, you ask that?” Darcy laughed. “Bingley here is bound to do the same before long. When might that be, here or at your ball?”
“I do not know if I have the will to wait until the ball,” Bingley answered. “Nor does Fitz here if I am any judge.”
“Perhaps not,” Fitz said as he plopped his feet on the seat between the two men opposite him. “Either way, I am determined to get it right.”
“Do not tell me you will plan it?” Darcy teased as he shoved Fitz’s booted feet to the floor.
“I will… that way she does not find herself picking cobwebs from her hair.”
Bingley cackling as they began down the long drive, Darcy lifted his eyes heavenward. Quiet and Elizabeth. Those were all he asked for.
∞∞∞
Entering the drawing room, the three men stilled.
At the far wall nearly every guest hovered around the Bennets, Lord Ramsgate and Mr. Thomson the worst offenders as they fawned over the two younger sisters.
“To think,” Mr. Thomson cooed to Elizabeth, “that you three managed to keep your relations secret until this very morning. A bit of a lark on your part I suppose; Lord Ramsgate here says you are even endowed in more tangible ways–I speak of your inheritance, of course. News of your uncle becoming the Earl of Huntingdon has spread far and wide. How Lord Ramsgate learnt of your inheritance I cannot say.”
Inheritance? Darcy brooded. An uncle in the peerage? Elizabeth never said; never hinted. Perhaps that Thomson fellow was correct. That her withholding it had been a lark. No. She would not have gone so far as to accept his proposal.
Unless it proved a cruel game?
But that is not in her character, he reminded himself. Surely it is not. Turning toward the group, Darcy wore a deep frown, unable to be shaken.
“I learnt of it accidentally,” Lord Ramsgate growled at last; his voice softening as he turned to Miss Mary, “Though, that ones such as these should have connections and wealth as they do is only fitting. Intelligence and beauty deserve such ornaments.”
Sharing a look of confusion with Bingley and Fitz, Darcy’s frown deepened as Lord Brayburn came alongside.
“I hope your trip proved useful,” he said softly as the men crowded around him. “It has been rather peculiar since you three left. First Lady Charmane’s clues, which she had us all following for half the day yesterday, then last evening’s Globe was delivered this morning and these secrets were revealed.” Shaking his head, Lord Brayburn continued, “I am certain the girls knew of it before the news was revealed, yet they equally seemed… as awed at it as any of us. A strange business. Especially as I was paired with Miss Bennet during that game; before we could finish the clue we had in hand, the butler came and whisked her away. When she and her sisters returned later for supper, they all stared at their food, poking at it more than eating. And now, with those two men hunting them, and the rest suddenly behaving as if they were old friends–I pity the Bennet girls.”
Lord Brayburn drifting back into the throng, Darcy moved nearer his cousin and Bingley as he pulled them toward the door.
“I can tell you this. They did not know of an inheritance or the status of their uncle when we left,” Fitz remarked confidently.
Brows pulling, Darcy viewed his cousin incredulously. “Is the word of a peer as strong as that?” Shaking his head, Darcy’s voice grew sharp, “No. I fear we have been played for fools.”
“I did not need Lord Brayburn’s remarks of their behavior to know that they are not liars. I–we–have all spoken to them at length. Spent hours in their company day after day. For all my years in the military, one thing I have learnt is how to read people. My superiors, those under my command… what they say, lie about, or do not say, they all mean something. I have grown skilled enough to know that I would trust Miss Mary and her sisters in all that they have said. With the exception of sisterly rivalries regarding who is the fastest,” he laughed. “That, like our own competitions, is subject to embellishment.”
“I agree,” Bingley said with an easy smile. “They would have told us, or at minimum, not told us what they did. Either way, it is a pleasant surprise for them I should think. Miss Catherine is to be married soon, and with her intended seeking a position as vicar, an earl in the family should increase his chances of getting his preferred parish.”
If Bingley saw the good in this, then there must be something wrong. A good man. Clever at times. He wanted too much to believe the best in people.
And Lord Brayburn. Peers were rarely to be trusted. He had experienced the closed-mindedness of them in London. He would not be taken in by them again. Not even if Fitz believed the man; his heart had been lost to Miss Mary after all, he could not be expected to see things clearly.
But would Elizabeth truly deceive him? Would she have kissed him? Promised to marry him? No.
Yet, his mouth and his heart proved in full opposition, venom spewing before his knowledge of Elizabeth’s true character could travel there. “If you wish to be taken in by these intrigues then by all means, do. I have been a fool long enough.”
Whirling toward the now silent room, Darcy gazed down at Elizabeth, her eyes glistening.
“A fool?” she whispered up at him. “For believing in me? For lov… If you. If that is what you think, I suppose what you asked of me you wish to take back?”
No. He did not wish that. Not at all.
“I…” he began, Mr. Thomson coming to stand between them.
“Miss Elizabeth, perhaps we ought to leave him in peace. He has only just returned; he must be wearied from his trip.”
“Yes,” she nodded, her shoulders sagging as she made her way to the door. “I have not traveled, and I know I am weary. If you do not mind, I shall go to my room to rest.”
Moving to stop her, Darcy glared at the man who blocked his path–Mr. Thomson.
He had enough trouble ruining things on his own, Darcy fumed to himself. He did not need the help of that deviant Mr. Thomson!
Pushing the oaf out of his way, Darcy blinked as he stepped into the hall. Elizabeth was nowhere to be seen.
Would that his foolish fears and words did not end their future before it began.
∞∞∞
When supper came, Elizabeth was not to be found, her sisters, after coming late to the dining room, apologizing on behalf of their sister. Elizabeth had not been up to company.
The minutes ticking slowly by, Darcy ate little and what he did, he neither tasted nor recalled.
He would not join the rest in the drawing room, he considered as the meal neared its close. Like Elizabeth, he did not feel up to the company.
“Tomorrow,” Lady Charmane announced in a loud voice, her guests silent as she continued, “Mr. Moore has offered to lead those who wish to join on a historical tour. Though limited to the church, its grounds, and rectory, he assures me it is well worth the effort. Any who wish to remain behind might enjoy walks, riding, archery, cards, and the like–once the weather turns, skating and all manner of bracing amusements might be had. We get rather cold here I am afraid.”
“The Reverend is all kindness,” Miss Wordsworth effused, “I would be happy to accept.”
“It might be a pleasant diversion,” Bingley remarked as he turned to Miss Bennet. “Would you care to come?”
“I should like that. Mary? What about you?”
“If we can convince Elizabeth to join, it would be a delightful change.”
Nodding, Fitz put in his agreement, then Lord Ramsgate and Mr. Thomson.
Miss Edmund, Lord Brayburn, Miss Wordsworth, and their host each made their excuses, Darcy half tempted to do the same save for the small opportunity it might provide for him to apologize to Elizabeth. Thus, he agreed to join those who would follow Mr. Moore on his tour before retiring to his room. Sleep slow to come as his mind sought how he might apologize to Elizabeth, and his chest clenched at the notion of her not accepting.
Please, Lord. Give me the words.