Mr. Darcy's Forbidden Love-kindle (53 page)

This morning, however, Barnes noted that the silence still remained. Each member of the staff moved cautiously and wore a serious expression. Not a one spoke, choosing instead to return his silent nod of greeting. No doubt the news had spread quickly that the Master’s mood had changed for the worse since Mr. Clark’s arrival, and they were either eager to see Mr. Darcy depart or escape his notice until he had. A customarily kind man, their employer could be quite critical of the smallest infraction when he was worried.

Occupied with these thoughts, the butler almost ran into the kitchen door which swung open with a vengeance directly in his path. Coming out of the room with a tray filled with sausages, cheese, eggs, butter, jam and fresh baked bread was his wife, who managed to stop just in time to avoid dropping the contents.

“Mind where you are going, Maxwell!” she declared, trying to regain her balance. Then looking about to make sure no other servants had heard, she sighed heavily and smiled her regret for being so terse.

Aghast at the near miss, Barnes exhaled noisily and feigned wiping his brow as he leaned in to explain. “I am sorry, Matilda. My mind was preoccupied, and I confess that I was not paying attention as I should.”

“I apologise as well. It has been Bedlam since you sent Florence to awaken me with the admonition that I should hurry as the Master intended to leave.”

“That it has! I have no idea what was in that express Mr. Clark delivered.”  Now it was his turn to look about suspiciously before continuing.  “I have never seen Mr. Darcy’s expression darken so rapidly. Immediately he had me send a footman to locate Colonel Fitzwilliam and insist that he come without delay.”

“Has the colonel arrived?”

“No, but I pray he does soon.  I have never seen Mr. Darcy so upset. He paces across his study, murmuring to himself.”

“Then let me hasten with this fare. It may be a welcome diversion.”

“I pray you are right.” Patting his wife on the back, he enquired, “Would you rather I take it? You know he can be short without intending to be when he is disturbed.”

“No, he has never once treated me with less than the utmost courtesy, and I do not expect that to change.”

Stepping aside, he bowed, and made a show of sweeping an arm across his body. “Then be on your way, my love.”

Returning his endearment with a wink, Mrs. Barnes hastened to her duty. The footman positioned beside the study door leaned over to knock as she approached, and the housekeeper paused for the summons. As she waited, she was surprised to hear Colonel Fitzwilliam’s voice echoing in the foyer and turned to see him striding towards her, dressed in his regimentals, immaculate as always.

“That smells wonderful, Mrs. Barnes. I am delighted to find something to eat. I have not had one bite of food this morning. I pray that there is also some of that excellent coffee already prepared.”

“As always, we have plenty of food, Colonel, and a pot of coffee was delivered several minutes ago.”

She was about to say more, but at that exact moment his cousin called out, “Come.”

Smiling, Richard turned the knob on the door and pushed it open, standing aside to allow her to enter first. As he followed the housekeeper inside, he noted that William was clearing his desk of some papers in order to make a place to set the tray. Instantly he began his usual teasing.

“Now, Cousin, what situation could possibly be so dire as to require my attendance at this ungodly hour? Has Bonaparte attacked Pemberley?”

As Richard guffawed at his own joke, William met his cousin’s look with a decided frown before addressing Mrs. Barnes. “Thank you, Mrs. Barnes. Please be so good as to have three satchels prepared with enough food and water for a trip to Ashcroft Park.  Slattery and Musgrove will travel with me via horseback.”

Though her eyebrows rose at the mention of travelling via horseback, the long-time servant executed a perfect curtsey and barely glanced at Richard as she exited the room.

Once the door closed behind her, William walked around the desk without a word and handed Richard the express he had received earlier. Meeting his cousin’s eyes briefly, Richard focused on the missive and began to read. As his expression changed from astonishment to anger, he gripped the back of a nearby chair then walked around it to sit down, shaking with fury. Once finished reading, he was immediately back on his feet, mirroring William’s earlier pacing.

“How dare that scum try to take our Georgiana! I swear by all that is holy I shall make that cad pay with his life!”

William, who had been leaning against his desk as he waited for him to finish, stopped his cousin by grabbing his arm. “I have no doubt of that, but first we have to find him. Is your man still watching Gisela’s residence?”

“Yes. He has not had anything to report lately. By and large, she stays home and drinks. Even Attenborough has deserted her for younger women, it seems.”

“Perhaps you should add more men. I would like her observed at all times.  I have a feeling that Wickham will return to London, and I would not be surprised if he comes to her townhouse. In fact, I would not discount that she had something to do with this.”

“Good Lord, man! Why would Gisela be so cruel as to try to harm Georgiana? She has never done anything to her.” At William’s pointed look, he answered his own question. “Revenge.”

“That and perhaps she thought that she could control Georgiana and, by extension, me, if my sister wed that blackguard.”

“I shall strangle her with my bare hands if this is so.”

“You will have to get behind me.” William snarled, beginning to pour two cups of coffee. He held one steaming cup towards his cousin. “But the priority now is to make sure Georgiana is safe.”

Richard took a sip of the hot liquid before replying, “Pemberley.”

“Precisely.”

“I take it you will travel to Ashcroft Park and escort her to London and then on to Pemberley. Do you need my assistance?”

“I thank you, no. I shall take two men with me.  With those already travelling with her party, it should suffice. I want you to head the search for Wickham. With your army comrades, you have useful connections all over England.”

“That would be my pleasure. First, I shall dispatch enquiries to my fellow officers in the outlying counties and see what I can uncover. I do not see that rat returning to London via the usual route from Ramsgate. He would fear running directly into you.”

“That is my opinion as well. I will rest easier knowing you are on his trail. That leaves me free to focus on Georgiana.”

“Of course. When do you leave?”

“As soon as Barnes tells me all is in readiness. I imagine he will avoid giving me clearance until I eat. My servants are very protective.”

“You have good people. For that you should be thankful.”

“Though I may not always appear to be, I am. And I realise that though I have no appetite, it will not do to ride all day without eating.”

“Well, I do have an appetite, so I have no qualms in indulging. Would that we had food like this in the army!”

William relaxed somewhat as he sat down at his desk and began pulling the covers off the dishes. Not hesitating, Richard took a plate and began filling it, unaware of his cousin’s amazement at the amount of food he had on his plate. Once Richard sat down to eat, William forced himself to do likewise.

~~~*~~~

Later, as the pair stood in the foyer before going their separate ways, Richard moved close so that the servants could not hear. “I can only imagine how torn you are between the desire to be in company with Miss Bennet and the need to focus on Georgiana’s safety. It must be very difficult.”

“I have no choice, Richard. My sister’s safety is at stake, and I cannot fail her.” The anguish in William’s voice was evident. “I pray that God keeps Elizabeth safe until she is able to return to London and that she refuses that reprehensible Wilkens if he offers marriage.”

“One can only hope. I found her very intelligent, but she did not act in her own interest by going to Ramsgate in the first place. You must brace yourself for what may transpire, as she may be willing to sacrifice her own happiness in order to help her sisters.”

If possible, William’s face fell even further. His shoulders slumped, and his head dropped as he murmured wearily, “I have resigned myself to this one thing—if she is to be mine, it will only be by an act of Divine Providence, as no sane woman would have me under the circumstances.”

“Then let us hope Providence is on your side, my friend,” Richard said, clasping his cousin by both shoulders and squeezing affectionately. “I wish you God’s protection and speed on your journey. Tell my cousin that I love her and will do everything in my power to apprehend that villain and anyone else that may have played a part in his scheme.”

“She knows you love her, but I will tell her again.” William forced a smile. “Please be very careful, Richard. There is no way of knowing how many are involved. I am certain that, left to his own devices, George Wickham could never have afforded the expense of parading about Ramsgate as a gentleman—hiring carriages, coaches and such or staying in decent inns.”

“In addition to locating that rogue, I intend on discovering just who is financing him.” Richard straightened to his full height as his hand settled on the handle of his sword. “And heaven help whoever that fool may be.” 

~~~*~~~

London
Grantham Townhouse
Gisela’s Sitting Room

Gisela’s latest maid, Fran, barely two and twenty, moved cautiously into the room trying to avoid waking the woman still snoring on the chaise. In the short while she had been serving Mrs. Darcy, not once had she found her asleep in the large bed in the next room as one would assume. Instead, she was either on the chaise or splayed out on the carpet in front of the fireplace in the bedroom. 

Though she had managed to fit in with the downstairs staff since being hired, she was not sure how much longer she would be able to deal with her employer since moving upstairs. It was well known among the staff that her ladyship’s personal maids never lasted for more than a few months, and they were not allowed to remain in other positions when they quit; thus, Fran had never been desirous of moving upstairs as she needed to keep the position. But she had been pressed into service forthwith after Jemima left without notice because the Mistress had noted that she had better deportment than the others.

Tiptoeing over to take a closer look at the slumbering woman, Fran shook her head in despair at the sight—dishevelled clothes and a mess of tangled hair, combs and pins. The maid had to wonder if the knots would ever comb out. Furthermore, as she got near the figure lying prone on the tufted seat, she noted a distinct smell, not unlike that of the guttersnipes in the alley—a mix of liquor and body odour. Just yesterday Mrs. Darcy had ordered a bath drawn and then when summoned to the dressing room to bathe, insisted that she had not. 

A
nd from the smell, she certainly could have used one!

Sighing at the prospect of another day listening to her mistress whine, Fran spied something on the carpet and stooped to discover bits of broken glass. She quickly surmised that it had come from a broken picture frame lying under a nearby chair.

It is a wonder that she does not run out of things to throw!

Striving to clean up whatever debris she found each morning, it was discouraging to see new items destroyed every day. Picking up the frame, she stopped to study the portrait. It was of Mr. Darcy and his sister, the one Mrs. Darcy had boasted of stealing from Darcy House. That revelation had come yesterday, just as the mistress had begun her evening ritual of complaining about her husband’s inattention while drinking until she lost consciousness.

Like the majority of the servants, Fran had never actually seen Mr. Darcy up close. He certainly never darkened the door of the residence, but she had glimpsed him and his sister once on the street, when another maid had pointed them out. She remembered thinking that while the girl was pretty, Mr. Darcy was the most handsome man she had ever seen. This portrait proved that she had not erred in her judgment. Examining the tall, attractive man with dark, wavy hair, light eyes and a chiselled jaw, she recalled the bawdy remarks of one of the kitchen help—
He can leave his boots under my cot any time he sees fit!

Shaking these improper thoughts from her mind, Fran brushed several small shards of glass from the likeness and then placed it out of sight behind other items on top of the chest of drawers.

Perhaps if it is hidden, Mrs. Darcy will not spoil it. It would be a shame to ruin so fine a likeness.

Seeing Mr. Darcy’s picture also brought to mind the servant’s gossip about the odd marriage of their employer and the Heir of Pemberley. This topic was often debated below stairs, though she had never added anything to the conversation. She knew the story well and, in any event, she learned more by listening. Nevertheless, the long-time maids and footmen always had some bit of new information to share, including recent reports that Mr. Darcy may have taken a lover. And now that she had been moved upstairs, they were steadfast in their efforts to have her tell them what went on in Mrs. Darcy’s private quarters. Nonetheless, Fran knew that a lady’s maid was not supposed to gossip about her mistress, so she dutifully kept her mouth shut and hid all evidence that the Mistress continued to destroy everything that reminded her of her miserable state. That had not endeared her to the rest of the staff, but she did not mind. She was more interested in pleasing Mrs. Darcy to gain her trust.

Picking up several items of clothing strewn about the room, her mind wandered to Mrs. Darcy’s friend, Lord Attenborough. At first glance, she had thought him a distinguished gentleman when he appeared at the house on her first day in her new position. However, when she had delivered the news that Gisela Darcy would be delayed a few minutes, he had made her uncomfortable by not answering but continuing to look her over. Then when he had refused to wait any longer, she had been very happy to fly back upstairs to the Mistress’ sitting room to inform her that Lord Attenborough had taken his leave and had left her a letter. After reading the letter, Mrs. Darcy had thrown a tantrum, turning over things and breaking objects. It had disconcerted her at the time, but her displays of temper had continued so frequently that Fran had swiftly adjusted and now barely raised an eyebrow when one occurred.