Trouble With Wickham (7 page)

It was at times such as these that he wished he had a childhood sweetheart with whom he was madly in love. Nathaniel Heresford, his friend from Eton, had such an arrangement with a tall and willowy charmer who was earmarked for him from childhood, leaving him free to move about without the endless speculation Hugh endured.

As the heir to a great fortune he had always behaved admirably; his father had drilled into him that there were to be no bastards in the Radcliffe line of succession.

“I am more than willing to cut you off in my lifetime if you prove you cannot control yourself,” his father had threatened.

Hugh loved his home as much as his sister did, and vowed that he would not lose his father’s good opinion or marry unless the match incited the envy of his contemporaries.

Nevertheless, talk of Rosings Park did not abate. Soon Hugh began to gird himself for dinner by preparing a small list of relevant topics to use in distracting his mother from the subject of Anne de Bourgh.

“Rosings Park was one of the finest estates I have ever seen. The mantelpiece alone is quite costly,” Lady Radcliffe recalled as the soup was poured and served.

“I heard, and smelled, that the cook made mince pies today,” Hugh replied, sipping from his spoon.

“This Miss de Bourgh is blonde. Do you like fair haired girls my dear?” his mother asked, gazing at her son while absentmindedly stirring her soup.

“I like all colors of hair. Oh, I have had a letter from my brother. Seems his footman left his post suddenly and without notice,” Hugh countered.

“I don’t think Miss de Bourgh rides, from what I remember,” Lord Radcliffe guessed, trying hard to recollect any mention of her horsemanship.

“What a pity. Those new pens from London were worth the expense, don’t you agree Father?” Hugh replied.

“Yes, I agree. You will meet Miss de Bourgh here for the hunt. There will be plenty of time for you two to get acquainted,” his father persisted.

Hugh gave up and concentrated on his meal. From his perspective, the inclusion of the unbetrothed heiress and her mother on the hunt party’s guest list cast an unnecessary pall on what he had been hoping would be an enjoyable gathering. He dreaded the pressure that came with such expectations. Rarely did he and his parents agree on suitable women.

However, he left his true thoughts on the upcoming matchup unsaid, instead making a plan to hide out with Guy at the Meryton Arms on the day of Lady Catherine’s arrival. He intended to limit his encounters with Miss de Bourgh to crowded settings, where his attentions to her as the host could not be misconstrued as anything other than well mannered politeness.

Therefore, he and Guy were happily situated at a prime place before the fire in the dark and welcoming tavern, taking refuge in tanks of ale and local gossip, shelling nuts at the familiar oak table, avoiding the incoming guests and the expectations that came with them.

“I can only hope that her mother, Lady Catherine, is not the pushy type,” Hugh lamented to Guy. “I do not yet feel a pull toward matrimony, no matter how much my parents wish it for me.”

Guy leaned forward excitedly. “But see there my friend, that is where you have got it all wrong. I was hardly seeking matrimony myself when I walked into Bennington Park and fell for your sister. One is only happy to enter into the institution of marriage when it seals the affections of the one you do not wish to ever get away. Therefore you should not seek the institution for it’s own sake, but as a means of securing the woman who has already captured your heart. I guarantee you my friend it has not yet happened to you, for if it had I would not be sitting here trying to explain it. Trust me on this.”

Hugh hoped his friend was right. Indeed, he reflected, his affection for Jane Bennet must not have been of the right kind as it hardly stirred him to any sort of action. Instead he had stood silently by, as if in a dream, and watched Bingley swoop in and steal her heart without losing his appetite or a single night’s sleep over the whole matter.

And yet here was the example of his good friend Guy, who could not stop himself from defying the Earl of Buckland in order to secure Charlotte’s love. Guy’s actions were a powerful example; Hugh vowed that he would not marry any woman unless he felt so strongly about her that he would anger the best shot in the county to keep from losing her.

Perhaps he should not assume so quickly that this Miss de Bourgh would not stir those feelings in him. Indeed, a small part of him hoped she would, as he was beginning to fear that he was a man not easily pleased, and that a decade forward he would find himself in the exact same position, still alone, still the subject of constant matchmaking, and in the end settle for a woman solely to get the business done and over with and not because of any depth of feeling on his part.

He certainly knew himself capable of love, or so he thought. He loved his mother and father dearly, and his brother and sister as a sibling should. There was no end to his affection for every one of his horses, from his first pony Teddy to Gilly, his current mare. Even Charlotte’s yapping Pomeranians melted his heart.

No, he decided, after a moment of self-reflection, if he was capable of loving a horse he was capable of loving a woman. Ideally, there was a woman out there whom he could love more than his horse.

Perhaps she simply hadn’t appeared yet.

.

I
t was a few minutes past three o’clock when the Darcy’s coach rattled down the lane to Bennington Park. Charlotte was resting in her old room, where she and Guy had relocated after vacating the south suite in anticipation of the arrival of Lady Catherine, when she heard the clop of the horses’ hooves approaching. Elizabeth had recently written that Fitzwilliam had splurged on a new coach, and at the sight of the shiny, expensive model coming down the lane, Charlotte ran from the window and went swiftly downstairs to join her parents in the forecourt to greet her friend.

Conflicting emotions bubbled up inside Charlotte as the coach rolled to a stop in front of her. She felt unexpectedly nervous about the Darcys’ arrival; she worried that marriage might have changed the easy rapport she had with Elizabeth. She worried that, despite her friend’s assurances other wise, Mr. Darcy would be glum and not fit into the party. She worried that tending to the needs of his little sister Georgiana would leave her and Elizabeth with no time of their own. She had never invited another couple to stay with her at Bennington Park; whatever had possessed her to debut her hostessing skills on a man as proud as Mr. Darcy?

She sighed. It was too late to do anything but stuff her self-doubts inside, plaster a smile on her face and act as if she could juggle the needs of a house full of lords and ladies single-handedly and in her sleep.

The door to the coach opened and the footman lowered the steps. Elizabeth descended first looking exceedingly well and the picture of happiness. Even Mr. Darcy was more handsome than Charlotte remembered; his dark good looks seemed less foreboding now that he wore her friend’s approval and a wide smile. He bowed graciously and Charlotte was immediately won over by the force of his charm and warmth.

“Mamma, Pappa, you remember Elizabeth and here is her new husband Mr. Darcy.”

Mr. Darcy bowed graciously and shook the hands of his hosts, then turned toward the coach and said, “Allow me to introduce my sister, Miss Georgiana Darcy.” From the depths of the carriage emerged a full-grown young woman whom most definitely would not fit into the nursery.

Mistake number one
, thought Charlotte.

Miss Darcy descended the stairs cautiously and completed a polite curtsy before her hosts. She possessed a tall, elegant figure and flashed an engaging smile.

“How do you do?”

Her voice was melodious and genteel and with only a little shyness, she raised her beautiful big brown eyes and met Charlotte’s curious eyes full on. Charlotte was immediately glad that Georgiana was included in the party.

Lady Radcliffe had a separate reaction. She could not hide her disappointment at the missed opportunity to entertain a child. Worse yet, she had failed to prepare the proper accommodations for a grown woman.

The nursery indeed!

Lady Radcliffe pulled Charlotte aside and whispered anxiously.

“Miss Darcy must have your room! Notify Mrs. Holmes that you and Guy will be taking the governesses’ suite instead. Tell her to clear your belongings quickly and take them to the nursery. We will entertain the Darcys in the drawing room until the arrangements are complete.”

Charlotte knew she could not object to the relocation as they could hardly install the full-grown Miss Darcy in the nursery.

Oh how Guy would laugh at their demotion!

Lord and Lady Radcliffe escorted the new arrivals inside while Charlotte excused herself to find Mrs. Holmes.

Upon entering the home, Fitzwilliam quietly viewed the commodious entry hall, wide mahogany staircase, and the polished, well-maintained surfaces. They suggested a proper pride of position that was central to Fitzwilliam’s idea of nobility, and his hopes for his sister could not help but grow. He stood back with Lord Radcliffe, while the ladies moved into the adjacent drawing room.

“How old is the place?” Fitzwilliam inquired as the two stood alone in the hall.

“Five and fifty years,” Lord Radcliffe said with pride. “I was born here and hope to die here too.”

“My father always said the same about Pemberley,” said Fitzwilliam. “And he got his wish.”

“Oh I am sorry to hear that,” Lord Radcliffe said with sincerity. “And so you are your sister’s guardian?”

“I share her care with my cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, but only until I have the pleasure of giving her away in marriage.” He did not meet Lord Radcliffe’s eyes, preferring to let his words linger in the air, continuing to take in the room’s details. Then he looked at Lord Radcliffe directly and added, “Is your eldest son joining us for the hunt?”

His juxtaposition of subject matter was not lost on Lord Radcliffe—the rightness of the suggestion was impossible to deny. Lord Radcliffe looked Mr. Darcy directly in the eye and with a wry smile replied, “Why, yes. He is presently occupied but will be joining the party this evening. Shall we?” and motioned his guest into the drawing room.

More than pleased with his first impression of Mr. Darcy, Lord Radcliffe insisted that Fitzwilliam be seated on his very own chaise. He would not accept Mr. Darcy’s protestation that he preferred to stand. After ensuring his guest was comfortable, Lord Radcliff sat himself down and took a second, longer look at the beautiful and very suitable Miss Georgiana Darcy, and chuckled with amusement. He believed it very unlikely that his son would choose to attach himself to Miss Anne de Bourgh with Miss Georgiana Darcy in the house.

Meanwhile, Charlotte returned to the company in the drawing room, satisfied that Mrs. Holmes and two maids had the room reassignment under control.  Her momentary fears about her hostessing abilities were replaced by the natural joy and felicity that her friendship with Elizabeth exuded.

Elizabeth made room on the settee and patted the cushion, “Sit here next to me!”

Charlotte settled herself happily next to her good friend and leaned her head on her shoulder.

“What a pretty bonnet!” she complimented her.

“Thank you. I cannot quite bear to put away my summer things when the weather is still so beautiful,” Elizabeth said.

“And where is this husband of yours? When do I see him again?” Elizabeth was anxious to become better acquainted with the young tutor that had stolen her friend’s heart. She had only a brief memory of his face, collected on the night of the Meryton Assembly, so long ago.

“Drinking the afternoon away at the Meryton Arms with my brother Hugh,” Charlotte laughed. “He lives entirely for pleasure.”

All the company, except Lord Radcliffe, laughed aloud. He in turn was horrified that his daughter spoke so freely of her brother’s boozy afternoon just when he wanted Mr. Darcy to get a wholesome impression of his son. He bristled in his chair, relieved to see Hastings entering the room with refreshments.

“Aha! Here is Hastings! You must all be so parched!” he exclaimed loudly. “And my favorite biscuits, and look at the beautiful figs! Mr. Darcy, what would you like?”

Lord Radcliffe proceeded to speak in an animated tone to each person in the room about their choice of refreshment until he was convinced that the image of his son’s soaking the afternoon away in the tavern was pushed far back into Mr. and Miss Darcy’s respective minds.

Just then Mrs. Holmes arrived.

“I will show our guests to their quarters now, my lady, if it is convenient,” she announced confidently. A smile of relief spread across Lady Radcliffe’s face. She had made a rare error in anticipating her guests’ needs, admitting to herself that without Mrs. Holmes’ efficient, unshakeable competence, she would be a wreck of a hostess every time. Nevertheless, she must act as if no mistakes were made.

“Already? Why I would love to sit here longer but my desires do not take precedence, you must all be eager to settle in and rest from your day’s journey. Yes, Mrs. Holmes if you would be so kind as to show them to their rooms now.”

Charlotte accompanied Mrs. Holmes as she escorted the Darcys upstairs to their rooms, laughing inside at their mistaken assumptions about the age of Miss Darcy and relieved that the room assignments were reshuffled so easily. Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam were shown to a set of fine rooms to the right of the landing that looked over the back of the estate, with a view of the valley and the river below. Georgiana could hardly restrain herself when, after her brother and Elizabeth were left alone, she was lead down the hall, past the staircase landing, and down another long grand hallway to her own accommodations, far removed from the rest of her family. She smiled in delight as each step took her further and further away from her brother’s radius. Her own rooms at Pemberley were not as private and removed.

Charlotte explained the room to Georgiana without indicating that she had given up her own accommodations. “You have a view of the front of the house, which I believe is the prettiest.” Charlotte parted the curtain and motioned Georgiana to the window.