Page 16 of Tempted (Heart to Heart Collection #2)

Chapter 16

Wyoming, May 1900

“L ydia, where are you going so late?”

Jane and Elizabeth were seated together at a chessboard, though Jane was now resting her cheek on her palm and staring in hopeless boredom at her losing side. She glanced up in renewed interest at Elizabeth’s question to Lydia.

“Only out for a moment, Lizzy. Sakes! Don’t I visit Maria whenever I please? She has been wanting her bonnet for Sunday morning, and I need to return it.”

Jane and Elizabeth glanced at each other. “But it is late,” Elizabeth reasoned. “Why now? You should have gone out a few hours ago. Or wait for tomorrow.”

“Oh, Lizzy, why don’t you mind your own business? It is only around the corner.”

“Are you certain you will be safe enough?” asked Jane.

Lydia rolled her eyes and offered an indelicate snort as she turned away to the door. “Where is your sense of adventure, Jane? I’ll be back straight away.”

Lydia tramped out, closing the door with a reverberating crash that made her sisters flinch, then shrug to one another. Elizabeth and Jane resumed their game, but it was over too soon. Elizabeth claimed Jane’s Queen, and the elder sister held up her hands in surrender. “Enough, Lizzy. I think I shall never learn this dreadful game.”

“You did well, Jane. You lasted twice as long this time. I ought to have cautioned you when you moved your Knight.”

Jane shook her head and yawned. “It would not have mattered, for if not the Knight, you would have found another opening. Goodness, where has Lydia got to?”

Elizabeth frowned mildly. “It has not even been half an hour, has it?”

“Yes, but I thought she was only stepping around for a moment. Lizzy, I do not like it. Lydia has never been cautious enough, and going by herself….”

“Should we tell Uncle?”

“I heard he was out for the evening. Our aunt said he meant to take dinner over at the mayor’s house with the sheriff and the colonel and one or two other principals about town.”

Elizabeth nibbled her lip as she re-set the chessboard, then rose with decision. “Come, Jane, let us go after her.”

“What? Lizzy, how is that wise?”

Elizabeth found a shawl on the hook by the door and twirled it over her shoulders. “We will take Kitty—Mary is reading and will not wish to go anywhere. Three of us together will be safe enough, and we can see Lydia back home. I know you—you won’t have a moment’s peace until she has returned.”

Kitty was not so easily persuaded as Jane, for she had just recovered some of her ribbons from Lydia’s drawers and was busily tucking them out of the way, the better to keep them from being pilfered again. At length, however, Elizabeth tempted her with the thought of visiting Maria Lucas. The three girls walked in a tight cluster—avoiding the noisy saloon as they passed and hurrying up the dusky street.

It was not until they reached the house at the corner that they began to think something was amiss. Mrs Lucas met them at the door but appeared baffled when they claimed to be following Lydia to escort her home. Maria appeared a moment later, looking just as confused as her mother.

“I haven’t seen Lydia all day,” she declared. “Why, she never said anything to me about coming by tonight. I am sure she went to Lucy Purvis’s house.”

Elizabeth and Jane exchanged looks. “No.” They shook their heads in unison. Lydia could scarcely abide Lucy Purvis.

“I am very sorry, girls,” Mrs Lucas apologised. “Perhaps she is already home, and you just missed her.”

Elizabeth frowned to herself, but thanked Mrs Lucas and turned away. “I suppose she is right. Most likely, Lydia was over sneaking sweets from Aunt’s storeroom, and didn't want us to suspect her.”

“Oh, Lizzy, you don’t think she was stealing!”

“She would define it as ‘borrowing,’ I imagine, but whatever you call it, the result is the same. I have caught her at it before.”

“Then let us come round by the back door and surprise her!” cried Kitty, who was eager for a bit of justice for her sister. “You have the key in your pocket still, don’t you, Lizzy?”

Elizabeth patted down her skirts and nodded. Several weighty objects were in her pockets, just as they always were. “I only hope Lydia has not got into trouble.”

Pemberley September 1900

“I will not do it.” Georgiana crossed her arms and stared adamantly back at Darcy, her blue eyes glinting and her lower lip rigid.

“You very well will do it,” he demanded. “What is so ghastly about Mrs Fitzwilliam that you refuse to be a friend to her?”

“What is so ghastly? Why, everything about her!” Georgiana snapped. “She’s a perfect rustic. The only reason you can tolerate having her at table is because I have been telling her maid what to do with her hair, having my older gowns tailored to fit her, and insisting that she wear cosmetics. At least her tan is finally fading, but we shall never be able to do anything about those freckles.”

“Mrs Fitzwilliam is very pleasant to be in company with,” he shot back. “Lest you forget, I saw her when she first came to London, without the benefit of your ‘assistance,’ and there was nothing abhorrent about her person. Even if there were, it is not your place to sit in judgment over her. She is our cousin’s wife!”

Georgiana snorted. “Do you still believe that?”

“More than ever, the longer I am around her. She is very fond of him, and her sorrow at his absence is sincere.”

“She is an actress,” Georgiana scowled. “And not even a very good one.”

Darcy shook his head. “I am going to pretend I never heard you say that. What she is or is not is none of your business. She is my guest, and I have asked the simplest of favours.”

She turned her chin to glare bitterly at him. “I have no intention of sitting by the hour with her, letting her stubby rough fingers hammer away at my Broadwood. Even if she is clever enough to read the music—”

“Enough!” Darcy raised a hand just before her face, cutting off her insults. “What has become of you, sister of mine? There was a time when I would have recommended you as a comfort to the most friendless of waifs, but this privileged shrew I see before me is a disappointment. Come, now, what is truly your issue with Mrs Fitzwilliam?”

She threw her hands in the air. “Where shall I begin? She is uncultured, uneducated, and that accent of hers! I cannot decide if she is slow in the head or if it is all for show.”

Darcy set his fists on his hips and leaned forward. “And you were denied your tour to the continent this autumn.”

She looked away.

“That is it, isn’t it? You had this great scheme to go with that friend of yours from school—a Miss Younge, whatever her name was. Now you are not going, and you blame Mrs Fitzwilliam.”

“It is her fault,” Georgiana insisted. “If you had not made me stay here like some nurse-maid, I could have been in Paris right now. I would have spent the winter in Spain, like Anne has done, and I would have toured the Vatican in the spring, and—”

“The cancellation of your holidays took place before Mrs Fitzwilliam arrived,” he reminded her.

“Only the very day before, when we got the news of Richard. The family panicked, and I suffered for it. I knew you would come to your senses after a week or so had passed, but then that creature and her entourage turned up, and I was stuck!”

“So…” He crossed his arms as she had done, and they squared off to one another. “This is the measure of it. I have been wondering why you two did not seem to be friendly, and now I see. Because of a childish tantrum—”

“I am not a child!”

“Then do not act as one! Behave like a well-brought-up lady, the daughter of this house. Act with more dignity than these guests you disdain so very much, for I tell you this—so far, they have the advantage of you. Until I see improvement, I will be restricting your funds and curtailing your activities.”

Georgiana paled, her mouth round. “You cannot do that!”

“I have just done so. Shall I send for your old governess to come again to us?”

She set her jaw and snarled through clenched teeth. “No.”

“Then, we understand each other. Let me be perfectly clear—you will make yourself amenable to Mrs Fitzwilliam and her sister, or there will be no spring wardrobe for you. No dinner parties, no house parties, no new hats, no fox hunts. And, in case you believe you can fool me, please recall that whatever else she is, Mrs Fitzwilliam is not artificial. She will be as a mirror for you, showing me exactly what you have become.”

Georgiana was pouting now, a dark sullenness rendering her fair features half terrifying. “You speak as if you are going away, and I have a certain amount of time to make amends.”

“And so you have.” He lowered himself into a chaise, waiting for her to condescend to take a seat herself.

“I told Reginald that I meant to go to South Africa to learn what I can. His counsel was to wait on the weather and better news, and I have done so, but the time for waiting is over. I sail in a fortnight, and I ought to be away some weeks.”

Her face became soft and thoughtful for the first time during their conversation. “How do you think to look for him?”

Darcy shook his head and leaned forward on his elbows. “I haven’t a clue. I shall start at the top, I suppose, or as near to the top as I can. I may as well confess that at this point, I am beginning to fear it will be a fruitless exercise, but I must do something. Someone should.” He finished with a hard look at his sister.

She swallowed and glanced away. “I miss him too, William. I would not have you think I do not care.”

“Then show it. Do something for the woman he married. Be the cousin he remembered so fondly.”

Her eyes shifted unhappily, but her shoulders lifted in a reluctant sigh. “Very well. I will teach the feral creature how to play the piano, if you insist.”

“You will not be alone,” he added, more gently. “Reginald came back to Matlock today. He sent over a message this afternoon that he finally persuaded the dowager to receive Elizabeth, and we are all invited to Matlock in three days. I understand that Lady Matlock—that is, Reginald’s wife—is quite taken with our guests. It is my hope that you will all be in company a great deal while I am away.”

Georgiana groaned and rolled her eyes. “I thought I could manage until you mentioned Sheila Fitzwilliam.”

Darcy chucked her on the chin and laughed. “Perhaps Elizabeth will help you.”