Page 30 of Tempted (Heart to Heart Collection #2)
Chapter 30
Matlock
E lizabeth signed her name to the bottom of the letter and read it over again. She had hoped to have some word from her family by now, but nothing had come.
“It is nothing to worry about,” Jane consoled her. “I have heard of mail becoming lost or delayed when the weather is bad, and you do remember what the wind and snowstorms were like back home.”
Elizabeth bobbed her head in silence and sealed the letter to be sent off with the post. Jane had a letter from Mr Bingley, and even Billy had a letter—this one regarding his quest to become a British national.
“It is everything splendid!” he cried, waving it so excitedly under Elizabeth’s nose that she could never have read it. “Beyond even my wildest imaginings! My Canadian citizenship qualified me for everything I had hoped for!”
“I thought you always meant to go back home,” Elizabeth said. “To Wyoming.”
He shrugged. “It was never truly home, you know. I only lived there three years, and I was never able to gather a church like I hoped, or find work that was not more out of charity than anything else. You know how it was back in Wyoming. No one ever had any use for me—they put up with me, but here, I fit .”
Jane smothered a sympathetic smile. “All that matters is that you are happy. We would not stand in your way for the world, but I hope you are sure of this.”
“Surer than I have ever been of anything in my life,” he affirmed, with eyes all aglow and that letter clasped like a talisman. “I am to send a reply—Lizzy will you help me write it up? I must particularly note my six years in Halifax and my father’s place of birth. The earl and Miss de Bourgh are travelling to London tomorrow, and they said they would take it to Mr Darcy for me.”
“Mr Darcy? What has he to do with it?”
“Oh, did you not know? He was the one who is conducting the matter on my behalf. You know, since he was already in London, and he has the proper connections.”
“It is very kind of him,” Jane declared.
“Yes,” Elizabeth echoed. “Very kind.”
“A h, there you are, Elizabeth.” Lady Matlock rose from her writing desk when Elizabeth came to her sitting room.
Elizabeth dipped her head. “You wished to see me?”
“Not I, but my husband. He stepped out for only a moment, so make yourself comfortable. How have you been faring, my dear?”
Elizabeth accepted the offered seat and folded her hands in her lap. “Very well, my lady.”
“Now, now, I’ll have none of that ‘Very well,’ nonsense from you. We are of the same stamp, you know—well, perhaps not entirely the same, but do not think you must put on a stoic face for me. You have hardly been eating, and Mildred tells me you sleep but fitfully.”
A reluctant smile tugged at her mouth. “Tell me, Lady Matlock, is it customary for the maids to inform the master and mistress on all my doings?”
“Naturally, and by-the-by, do not fret over misplaced letters. I have it on good authority that the Atlantic crossings are fearful just now.”
Elizabeth chuckled. “Thank you, my lady.”
Lady Matlock pointed a finger. “Elizabeth, there is something you ought to know. My husband and Darcy determined when you first came that your connection to poor dear Richard would remain secret until such time as they felt sure of you.”
She nodded. “I am aware of this.”
“Well, the thing is, there has never been any cause to introduce you in Society. Anne and Mr Bingley are the only ones who know all the facts, and they are speaking to no one. I suppose the War Office has a record of you as his wife, if the earl can get that much from them, but as far as the world knows, Richard died a bachelor. Now, the question is how to manage introductions.”
“Is that really necessary, Lady Matlock? I do not intend to trade on my connection to your family, and I have no business trying to cultivate a social web.”
The lady shook her head gravely. “Like it or not, Elizabeth, you are connected to the family, and—ah, here is the earl to explain the rest.”
Elizabeth stood when Matlock walked into the room, then sat again at his invitation.
“Have you told her, my dear?” he asked of the countess, who shook her head.
Elizabeth tensed in anticipation. The expressions of both were set, determined—pleased, yes, but whatever they were about to tell her was not open for discussion. A decision had been reached, and it was to be for her to accept it.
“Elizabeth, I have not spoken so openly to you on this matter, but it is time we discussed the future. Darcy assures me that you will not desire to return to America, is that correct?”
She blinked, swallowed, and tried to relax her knotted fingers, so they did not appear white and nervous. “Yes,” she answered, though her voice was uncooperative.
“Very well. As you know—or perhaps you did not know, but no matter—Richard had some few assets. The principal among these is approximately three thousand pounds, presently invested in the four percents, which were placed in his name on our mother’s behalf. He had also a flat in London, though it was not entirely unencumbered. I have investigated, and parting with it will only bring you a few hundred pounds, but the cost to maintain it—”
“I do not wish to live in London,” she answered quickly.
“I thought not. I have a small cottage in mind—one of my more recent acquisitions, approximately four miles to the north-west of here. The land is rented to a farmer, but the cottage is presently vacant. It is tidy and handsome, though not large. With your income, and what can be gained from the sale of any property you wish to dispense with, I believe you can live there quite comfortably.”
The breath left her, and she merely stared, unable to speak. The only sound in the room for at least thirty seconds was a ticking clock.
The earl glanced uncomfortably at the countess. “Understand, we are not trying to rid ourselves of you…”
“No!” she blurted. “I had not thought that at all. Your offer is exceedingly generous, my lord. It answers… well, it would satisfy every possible want, but what troubles me is how I should repay you. I understand that the rent on such a cottage would—”
“Rent!” Lady Matlock laughed. “I do not think she understands, my dear.”
“But I could not accept charity. I already feel so indebted to you, and I cannot ask you to look after me the rest of my life.”
The earl frowned. “If it pleases you, you may consider it a temporary situation, but one I shall be in no hurry to dissolve. Will that suit?”
She nodded jerkily. What else was she to do?
“Excellent,” he replied, and slapped his hands on his knees then rose to his feet. “I believe my wife wished to discuss other matters, so I shall leave you now. I am for London in the morning, and I ought to have thought of it before, but would you care to accompany us? It is only a short business trip; I shall not be remaining for any of the season’s festivities. Anne means to come, but she will be staying at her own flat, of course. What of it? You could view Richard’s old flat for yourself, put aside anything you wish to keep. I will likely dine with Darcy and Georgiana, as well.”
Elizabeth felt herself shaking her head long before she found her voice. “No… no thank you, my lord. I think it would be best if I did not go.”
“As you please. I will be sure to give them your greetings, of course.”
She looked down at her hands. “Please say that I… I wish them my very best.”
London
“D arcy! Did your valet give you the slip?” Reginald pointed at Darcy’s face when he walked into the hall of Darcy House from his carriage, gaping openly. “Smooth as a baby! Why, you look seventeen again!”
“Thank you, I think,” Darcy answered dryly. “How was your journey? No trouble with the ice, I trust.”
“Oh, nothing out of the ordinary. Have you not seen Anne since we have been in Town?”
“No, I believe she has been shopping. She sent over a note yesterday in response to mine, and we are to attend Lady Gresham’s dinner party tomorrow evening.”
“Ah. Lucky for me, I shall be escaping again on tomorrow morning’s train.”
“So soon?” Darcy beckoned his cousin towards the dining room, where Georgiana was already waiting for them. “Then you were able to get what you needed from the War Office?”
“Hardly. They took the letters you brought back, looked over everything, and then some second-rate Lieutenant Colonel came out and told me it was under review.”
Darcy stopped and turned to his cousin. “Under review? What is there to review? It should be a simple matter of a death certificate and final documentation.”
“That is what I said, but they will not satisfy me.”
Darcy’s brow creased, and he started back towards the dining room. “Curious. They should have had time for confirmation from South Africa by now.”
“And then some,” Reginald agreed. “Do you know, Darcy, I begin to suspect there is some secret they are keeping from us.”
“What kind of secret would that be?”
“Well, I am sure I do not know, but does it not seem odd, the way it has all been carried out? I wonder if Richard got caught in some calumny—perished at the hands of his own troops by some scandalous accident or something of that nature.”
Darcy slowed his steps and squinted. “I spoke with Bellamy a few days ago, and he said something that struck me as odd, though I am certain there is nothing in it. Kenny-Kelly suggested that Richard had perished of sleeping sickness.”
“Many do,” Reginald agreed with a sigh. “More than are killed in battle, from what I understand.”
“Indeed, but Bellamy’s cousin wrote that some poor devil in the prison camp had survived the sickness. He was no longer in his right mind—a terminal simpleton, not even aware of his surroundings. He did not give the man’s name, but I cannot deny that the thought has occurred to me…”
Reginald groaned. “Good heavens. I pray it is nothing like that. I would rather have my brother honourably laid to rest than to think of him in such a state—more dead than alive.”
“Agreed. If it was something like that, I wonder if we will ever learn the truth.”
Reginald squeezed his eyes and grimaced. “Enough of such talk, Darcy. I came here to pass a quiet evening without drama or conflict.”
“Quite right.” Darcy pushed open the door to the dining room himself and held it for his cousin. “How was everyone when you left?” This he asked with a sly glance, a judicious touch—a bit of curiosity was not suspicious, was it?
“Well enough. Ah, good evening, Georgiana.” Reginald bowed as he entered the room and exchanged courtesies and greetings for a moment. “Where was I? Oh, yes, I have been charged to remember—Sebastien wishes me to tell his uncle Darcy that he has grown a full inch since autumn. I reminded him you had seen him less than a month ago, but he insisted I tell you.”
“Then you may inform the young master I am looking forward to seeing him ride a full-sized Welsh Cob next summer. Better stop off at Tattersall’s, eh?”
“Do not encourage him!” Reginald pleaded, but with a proud grin on his face. “Our Elizabeth has already filled his head with so many romantic fantasies that every day brings a new shock. Last week it was feathers jutting out of the back of his hair. More recently, he decided she must teach him how to ride on a stock saddle, with a big broad hat, and to throw a—what is it they call that long rope? Mother nearly fainted when she heard it.”
Darcy laughed aloud. “I imagine so! Ahem… ah, how is Mrs Fitzwilliam? Has she been keeping occupied?”
“Well enough, I should say. I spoke to her the day before I left about the cottage. Poor girl, I did not mean to shock her as I did.”
“She does not wish to leave Matlock?” Darcy asked carefully.
“No, if anything I should say she intended a far more drastic removal than what we offered. She acted as if she had meant to strike out on her own entirely.”
“Indeed.” Darcy sipped from his glass, then cleared his throat. “Speaking of drastic removals, Georgiana and I have been speaking of her going to study at a music conservatory.”
Reginald brightened and looked at Georgiana in approval. “That is an excellent idea. Why, the Royal Conservatory in London is a fine institution, but there is also a magnificent one in Paris.”
“Actually…” Georgiana hesitantly raised her voice, “I was thinking of going to Boston.”
The Earl nearly choked. “Boston! No, no, no, my dear cousin. You want a classical institution, something well-founded and respected. Somewhere worthy of your talents and your place in society.”
“But the sort of music I wish to study is more easily found in Boston.” She leaned forward with a mischievous look. “Have you ever heard of Ragtime, Cousin?”
Reginald’s mouth dropped. “Rag… Well! Darcy did you know this?”
Darcy shook his head. “I suspected,” he confessed, with a half-amused, half-scandalised look at his sister. “I did say I would consider any desire of hers, so long as it was reasonable.”
“But Boston! Why, that is half a world away.”
“Come now, Reginald,” Darcy scoffed, “if she goes, I will be certain of all the arrangements. She will be quite safe.”
“Oh, I am not worried about her safety, but she will be so far removed from us. Georgiana, are you sure this is what you wish?”
“No,” she declared pertly. “I do not have to be sure of anything yet. I am only thinking of it.”
Reginald chuckled. “The girl has sass, Darcy. We shall have to keep a close watch on this one.”
Darcy caught his sister’s eye and delighted in the open, pleasant smile that answered his look. “I would expect no less.”