Colonel Fitzwilliam's Dilemma (18 page)

“You were very quick,” Mr. Asquith said when she returned to the hall and found him awaiting her.

“Mama has eyes and ears everywhere,” she said in a conspiratorial whisper that made her handsome tutor smile.

He led her to a side door, presumably so they wouldn’t be seen leaving together. The wind was brisk and yet invigorating. The air smelled fresh and clean. Damp leaves, whipped up by the wind, whirled around their feet and clung like natural decoration to the hem of Anne’s gown.

“I love this time of year in England,” he said. “It was one of the things I missed most while in Jamaica.”

“And yet you were born in Jamaica. I should have thought you would have found our autumn and winter far too cold for your taste.”

“I did when I first came over here to school. I actually thought I might freeze to death but I soon learned to prefer it to the heat and humidity of the tropics.”

“I have never set foot outside of England so I am not qualified to give an opinion. However, I am sure I would not enjoy being too hot all the time.”

They turned a corner that brought them close to the famous Pemberley maze.

“Have you ever tried this?” he asked.

“Goodness no. I would get lost for a month.”

“Nonsense.” He offered his arm, and she placed her hand on it. “Come along, Miss de Bourgh. Let us be brave. We shall either triumph or be lost together for all time.”

Anne would greatly have preferred the latter alternative, then her other problems would just have to take care of themselves. “Very well, Mr. Asquith, I shall place my trust in you,” she said. “Lead on.”

Smiling, she set off beside Mr. Asquith as he plunged into the confusing construction of beech hedges.

“The trick is always to turn in the same direction and never deviate. What shall it be, Miss de Bourgh, left or right?”

“Oh right, by all means.”

He briefly covered the fingers that rested on his arm with his opposite hand. “I shall never knowingly do wrong by you,” he said with a gaze of dark intensity.

Anne turned away, unsure what to make of that statement. Probably nothing. She was determined not to spoil this rare time alone with Mr. Asquith by reading more into this conversation than was there, or to think about what her mother would have to say if she knew about it. She would consider it a highly inappropriate situation and Anne would receive a scolding. She simply didn’t care. She felt light of heart, free almost. Being defiant definitely had its advantages.

“Are you sure about this, Mr. Asquith?” she asked when they had taken several turns that took them deeper into the maze with no clear end in sight. The hedges were far too tall even for Mr. Asquith to see over them. “I am sure we just passed down this walkway in the opposite direction.”

“Have faith.” He dropped his voice to a soft purr he had never used with her before. “Have I ever guided you wrong?”

“Well no, but perhaps not all mazes are designed the same way.”

“Don’t tell me you are nervous.”

“Not nervous precisely, but it is a little daunting.”

“We could leave markers as we go to ensure we find our way out. A ribbon from your hair, my handkerchief, things like that, but it would be cheating do you not think?”

“Yes, I suppose it would be.” It would also make Anne feel a lot safer but she had been consumed by a capricious mood and had no desire to be safe.

“If all else fails, we will simply wait to be found.”

“But no one knows where we are so how would they know where to look?”

“Ah, so they do not.” He sent her a charming smile, the one that always seemed to melt her insides and send agreeable sensations rioting through her body. “In which case, we must hope I know what I am doing. Now which way I wonder.”

They had reached a crossroads. The path they were on continued straight ahead, but there were also turnings to the left and right.

“Right,” Anne replied, without hesitation. “This junction is supposed to confuse us I think, and trick us into not turning.”

“Exactly so.”

The right hand turning took them to a large clearing in the centre of the maze. It boasted a magnificent statue of a winged horse with a bench beneath it.

“Oh, it is beautiful!” Anne stared at the statue, awestruck. “I should love to draw it.”

“Do you not recognise it?”

“Should I?” Anne tilted her head, examining the statue from all angles. “Pegaz?”

“Yes, from the ancient Persian legend we read together.”

“Did you know it was here, Mr. Asquith?”

“No, but it occurred to me that Mr. Darcy would put something special in the centre of his maze to reward those brave enough to make their way through all the wrong turns.”

A bit like her life, Anne thought, briefly closing her eyes and pretending she was here with Mr. Asquith because he intended to go down on bended knee and request her hand in marriage. That would make the agonies of her lonely childhood and the confusion of impending adulthood, more than worthwhile. She shook her head to dislodge the thought, telling herself not to be so foolish. Even if he did pretend affection for her, that is all it would be. Pretence. It wasn’t her he wanted, but Rosings. That was all everyone saw when they looked at her. She shivered at the thought and her pleasure in the moment was spoiled.

“Are you cold?” he asked.

“Not really.”

“Then what is it?”

He took her hand in his, and she felt compelled to meet his gaze. What she saw there unbalanced her. There was sympathy and understanding in his eyes, and compassion too. It was as though he grasped the reasons for her turmoil and cared, really cared, about her as a person. Of course that was not possible, but it did no harm to pretend. She didn’t want to tell him the truth and admit to her pathetic weaknesses, but the manner in which he was regarding her with an expression of such deep intensity made it impossible to keep her uncertainties to herself.

“I am afraid,” she said simply. “Afraid of what will happen if Colonel Fitzwilliam addresses me, but even more afraid of what will happen if he does not.” She swallowed, wondering whether she ought to go on. One look at his resourceful features and she threw caution to the wind. Let him laugh at her if he wanted to, she no longer cared. “But whatever happens, I will have to part with you,” she said, turning her head away. “Mama never intended for you to remain with me for long, we have both always known that, but the truth of the matter is that you have taught me far more than she could have bargained for. You have opened my eyes to the world beyond Rosings, given me the courage to think and to hold opinions of my own I am no longer afraid to express and…well, I have said too much.”

“My dear girl!” he cried passionately. “You need never concern yourself about my leaving you.”

She blinked, unsure she had heard him right. “You have to earn a living, Mr. Asquith. We both know that.”

“Miss de Bourgh…Anne.” He reached out an arm and pulled her against him. Anne was breathless with delight when her name slipped past his lips again so naturally and she willingly allowed herself to be embraced by him. “Don’t make the mistake of underestimating me. You say you have learned a lot from me but you can’t have enjoyed the experience as much as I have. At first, I looked upon you as a challenge. A lonely young lady afraid to open her mouth for fear of earning ridicule. I saw your potential but you have surpassed my most optimistic expectations. You are like a flower that has blossomed beneath my nurturing. I take all the credit for that, you know,” he continued, his capable hands sliding to her back and holding her more firmly against him, “and I never walk away from what I create.”

Anne felt dazed, disorientated, euphoric, and barely able to believe this was happening. Not altogether sure what
was
happening. She had absolutely no idea what he meant by her being his creation, nor did she much care. All she wanted was to continue being held by him, to feel the warmth and strength from his body seeping into her own. This was where she was supposed to be. He made her feel safe and protected, as though a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She screwed her eyes tightly closed, willing him to kiss her.

To her intense disappointment, he did not.

“Come,” he said instead, his voice gravelly and rough, almost dismissive. Her eyes flew open and she sent him an enquiring look, wondering what she had done to cause such an abrupt change in him. “We ought to get back to the house before we are missed.”

***

Joshua found Mr. and Mrs. Darcy together in the drawing room. He paused in the doorway to observe them, heads close together, laughing at something one of them had just said. Darcy reached out a hand and gently touched his wife’s face, his eyes soft, adoring. She leaned her cheek into his palm and sent him an enticing smile that prompted Darcy to groan, lower his head, and cover her lips with his own.

The intimacy of the snatched moment reinforced Joshua’s long-held opinion that Darcy had found his soul mate, a woman who would be the making of his intelligent yet rigidly correct cousin. With her irreverent attitude and lively wit, Eliza’s character was diametrically opposed to Darcy’s and could only have a beneficial effect upon his mercurial temper. Watching them together now, he wondered if she knew how much influence she wielded over him. He suspected she did, and Joshua was glad. Darcy took life far too seriously and deserved to put his own happiness ahead of duty.

Joshua hesitated on the threshold, feeling like the intruder that he was, wondering if he ought to leave them alone. Unfortunately, his business was too urgent to brook delay. He needed the benefit of his cousin’s advice and was unlikely to find a better opportunity for a quiet word.

He cleared his throat and walked into the room.

“Colonel Fitzwilliam.” Mrs. Darcy offered him a warm smile. “You look as though you have lost a guinea and found a farthing. Pray sit down and tell us what bothers you.”

“It is not quite as serious as that, ma’am,” he replied, smiling as he sat across from them.

“You have made yourself scarce all day, Fitzwilliam,” Darcy said, a cynical twist to his lips. “If I didn’t know better, I would say you were avoiding our aunt.”

Joshua grunted. “The very idea.”

“I believe the colonel has been to pay a call on our neighbours,” Mrs. Darcy said, her eyes sparkling with lively interest.

“Yes, and I was rather taken aback by what I learned from Mrs. Sheffield. The fact of the matter is that I am unsure what to do about it and badly in need of your advice, Darcy.”

Mrs. Darcy stood. “Then I will leave you gentlemen to talk.”

“No, don’t go.” Joshua grimaced. “If you can spare the time, Mrs. Darcy, I would appreciate a lady’s point of view.”

“I have all the time in the world for you, Colonel.” She resumed her seat. “Besides, you have made me curious. It is most unlike you to appear so unsure of yourself.”

Succinctly, Joshua outlined all Mrs. Sheffield had told him and all he had subsequently learned from Asquith.

“It sounds to me as though Percival Sheffield is definitely trying to bamboozle your Mrs. Sheffield out of her inheritance,” Darcy said, after a moment’s contemplation.

“There is no doubt in my mind about that,” Joshua agreed. “The question is how do I prove it?”

“If Asquith is to be believed—”

“You doubt his word?” Mrs. Darcy asked, looking rather shocked.

“It’s not that I doubt him precisely. It is more that he seems a little too good to be true.”

“He is in the same position as Wickham was as a young man,” Darcy said. “The favoured son of an employee who has enjoyed his master’s largesse. Unlike Wickham, Asquith appears to have made the most of that opportunity.”

“He certainly knows how to behave in society,” Mrs. Darcy added. “His manners are faultless.”

“True enough, but he had the temerity to suggest Mrs. Sheffield might know more about her husband’s death than she said, or that she might even have arranged it.”

Darcy chuckled, something Joshua had seldom heard him do before his marriage. “You are not looking at the broader picture, Fitzwilliam, because you support Mrs. Sheffield’s cause.”

“Quite so, but—”

“Were that not the case.” Darcy paused, idly plucking at the arm of the settee he occupied. “Think like the soldier you are. Would you not suspect her too if you had all the facts at your disposal?”

Joshua stood up. “I came to you for sound advice,” he said hotly. “But if all you can do is cast aspersions on an innocent lady’s character, then I have obviously wasted my time.”

“Sit down, Fitzwilliam.” Joshua scowled at his cousin and was slow to react. “I am merely playing devil’s advocate—”

“He does that a lot,” Mrs. Darcy said with a wicked smile that lightened the tension in the room.

“All I am saying,” Darcy continued, “is that in Asquith’s position, I might have had my suspicions, too.”

“Hmm, well I still think Asquith is not all he appears to be.” Joshua crossed his arms in a defensive pose, wondering why he was so determined to think ill of Asquith. “However, that is nothing to me. What is important is finding a way to disprove Sheffield’s claim.”

“Will you allow me to think about it?” Darcy asked. “It would not be wise to rush into anything.”

“By all means.”

“It will be difficult to do anything with Sheffield in Buckinghamshire and his solicitor in London,” Mrs. Darcy remarked. “It seems to me they are the main characters in this real life drama playing out alongside Mr. Asquith’s fictional one, and we will never get at the truth at arm’s length.”

“True,” Darcy replied. “But even to oblige my cousin and forward his matrimonial ambitions, we are not going to London.”

“Who said anything about matrimony?” Joshua asked.

Both Darcys sent him wry smiles, but before either of them could speak, Lady Catherine joined them, bringing the conversation to a premature end.

“Oh, there you are Fitzwilliam. I thought you must be with Anne,” she said accusingly. “I cannot find her anywhere.”

“Is she not in the ballroom, practising her lines?” Joshua asked politely.

“No one is in the ballroom. I just checked.” Lady Catherine settled herself in the chair closest to the fire. “Anne is not in her room either, but her maid says her pelisse is gone.”