Mr Darcy Requests the Pleasure Page 7
“I know all was not as innocent as you claim. There was an elopement, you spent hours, if not days, in the company of Mr. Wickham, travelling as man and wife before you were apprehended and brought home by your brother. You threw morality and virtue to the wind to run off with this man. Now, when your secret is uncovered, you calmly and brazenly lie to me. My natural inclination is to declare our engagement at an end, but I have wrestled with my feelings and therefore, if you express true repentance, I shall consider it my duty to keep to our engagement and thus preserve your reputation, which otherwise is certain to be destroyed. This disgraceful episode will be put behind you, and if not forgotten, forgiven. I am, as I say, a man of honour.”
Georgiana, speechless, was trying to assemble her thoughts when there was a disturbance at the door. Thrusting the protesting footman aside, Colonel Hawkins strode into the room.
‘I caught those last words of yours, Moresby. Do you consider listening to servants’ gossip honourable?”
“This is a private conversation, sir, I must beg that you will leave.”
“I can shed some light on what I am sure Moresby has been saying. My valet, normally a man who keeps his own counsel, told me a few minutes ago that rumours are rife below stairs with regard to what happened in Ramsgate, rumours that viciously misrepresent Miss Darcy’s behaviour. You know the truth of it, and so do I, for Miss Darcy told me what happened.”
“She told you about her elopement?” cried Mr. Moresby. “Why, pray, should she confide in you? I am coming to believe what has been hinted to me, that there is an understanding between you and Miss Darcy, a warmth going beyond mere acquaintance, that Miss Darcy’s misbehaviour at Ramsgate was not a single lapse.”
Two steps and Colonel Hawkins had seized Mr. Moresby round the jaw, almost lifting him from the floor. “You will answer to me for that.”
Mr. Darcy intervened. “Calm down, let him be, Hawkins, let us behave like rational beings. Let us get to the bottom of this. How have these rumours been spread? Is it true, Moresby, did you hear this distorted account from your man?”
Mr. Moresby shook himself free from Colonel Hawkins grasp. “I did not.”
“No,” Georgiana cried, “you had it from Caroline Bingley, I am sure of it. Now I see what has been going on.”
Scarlet-faced, Mr. Moresby pursed his lips and remained silent.
“Is this true?” Mr. Darcy demanded. “Was Miss Bingley the source of your information? It is impossible, she knew nothing about this. Neither she nor Mr. Bingley were ever told what happened in Ramsgate.”
“I can enlighten you as to where Miss Bingley may have heard about it, for it is her maid who started the rumours,” Colonel Hawkins said. “She is a woman called Sanders, and she claims to have been in Ramsgate at that time and to know the truth of what happened.”
Georgiana could see how angry her brother was at this news, but he controlled his temper admirably.
“Then the mystery is solved. Gossip and malicious rumours are the cause of this whole confusion, Moresby.”
How could she ever have thought she might find happiness with this man? Georgiana gave Mr. Moresby a scornful look. “Pray follow your inclination and bring an end to our engagement, Mr. Moresby. I do not want to marry you, forgiven or not forgiven. I trust you will find a life’s companion more suited to you than I would ever be.”
“Miss Darcy, I beg of you…” Mr. Moresby began, moving towards her.
Colonel Hawkins stood in his way. “No, Moresby, you have said enough for one evening. Take yourself off, Miss Darcy has other calls on her time.” He smiled at her, and, to her surprise, she found herself smiling back. Her anger had faded, now what she felt was relief, an overwhelming relief.
“I do indeed, there are the children, their song interrupted, guests are arriving, the festivities are about to begin.”
Mr. Moresby, summoning up what dignity he could, bowed to Mr. Darcy. “I thank you for your hospitality, I shall not trespass upon your goodwill any longer. If you will have my carriage called for, I intend to depart immediately. I have to say that I shall be glad to be excused the festivities Miss Darcy speaks of, as I consider them wholly unsuitable for this season. My compliments to your wife.”
With that he was gone.
“And I wish he may take Caroline with him,” Georgiana said, “they deserve one another.”
“I think Caroline, who has clearly had motives of her own, will find Mr. Moresby an elusive target. “ Mr. Darcy said dryly. “I will have a word with her, I will make sure she sees to it that this maid of hers undoes the mischief she has wrought. We may expect a sour countenance from Miss Bingley this evening, but we shall not let that spoil our pleasure on Christmas Day.”
Chapter Eighteen
The Christmas candles, great wax tapers wreathed in greenery, were shining out along the table. The company was played in by a harpist, seated at the far end of the room, and a buzz of happy conversation sounded as people took their places. Georgiana was already seated next to Colonel Hawkins when Mr. Darcy came into the dining room. Caroline Bingley, who had been lying in wait for him, pounced. “I was told Mr. Moresby has departed, how can this be?”
“Yes, he has shaken the dust of Pemberley from his feet, never to darken our doors again.”
Caroline Bingley’s face brightened. “Then the estrangement between him and Georgiana is permanent, they are no longer engaged?”
“They are not, there will be no announcement of a betrothal at dinner tonight. Should you have ambitions of your own in that direction, I must warn you that it is unlikely he will pursue his acquaintance with anyone connected with our family. And, while we are speaking of Mr. Moresby, I am sure you will understand the need to correct the mistaken information passed among the servants by your maid?”
Caroline Bingley flushed, tossed her head and said, “Georgiana seems to be on more than friendly terms with Colonel Hawkins. Will you care to see her throw herself away on a mere military man, who will no doubt be glad of her fortune?”
“Mere military men, as you call them, dear Caroline, are fighting gallantly to ensure the safety of your country against a vicious enemy. As it happens, it is likely that Colonel Hawkins’ military career will soon be over. His great-uncle has recently died and he has just informed me that the presumed heir, a ne-er do well, turns out to have met an unhappy end in the West Indies. So he will be Sir Giles Hawkins. He inherits, besides the baronetcy, a handsome estate and fortune of his own. Ah, I knew you would be pleased for him. Yes, Elizabeth and I very much hope he will make a match of it with Georgiana, they are well-suited, do not you think?”
Jane, taking her seat, said to Mr. Darcy, “What did you say to Caroline, she looks as though she had swallowed a pickle?”
“Possibly she has taken something that disagrees with her, a touch of indigestion.”
Grace was said, and then the butler came in, waited on upon each side by a servant bearing a large candle. He held aloft a platter on which reposed a boar’s head, decorated with rosemary and an apple in its mouth. He placed this at the head of the table, in front of Mr. Darcy, and the harpist struck a chord before launching into a medley of carols. The rest of the food was brought in: a traditional sirloin of beef, a haunch of venison, capons, a goose, pheasants and dishes of vegetables and salad. Georgiana, whose appetite had almost disappeared over the last two days, found she was hungry again. “I cannot wait for the syllabubs and the Christmas pudding,” she told Colonel Hawkins. “Our cook here has a secret recipe, much coveted by all the families hereabouts.”
The children stuffed gingerbread and sugar plums into their mouths when the company finally left the table. Dancing this evening was in the hall, and the musicians were already striking up when Colonel Hawkins came in with Georgiana at his side. He promptly seized her hand and whisked her into the dance, a good deal less stately than those at the ball the previous evening.
The dance ended, the musicians launched into a march and in a bustle of shouts and laugh
ter, the wassailers sauntered in, holly and ribbons bedecking their hats and costumes. “All the traditional ones,” Georgiana said. “Did not you miss all this while you were in India?”
“I never saw such a motley crew, whom do they represent?”
“There is Ancient Christmas, the one all in green is Robin Hood and his lady is Maid Marian, of course. Those others are Mrs Mince Pie, Plum Pudding and Roast Beef.”
“I’m not sure what Robin Hood has to do with Christmas, but they are a merry lot.”
Georgiana gave a gurgle of laughter, and Colonel Hawkins, clasping her around the waist to swing her about as the dancing began again, paused to asked what amused her.
“How Mr. Moresby would have hated all this unruliness.”
“I never want to hear that man’s name pass your lips again,” he said, guiding her to the centre of the hall, where an enormous bunch of mistletoe hung. “I can think of much better use for them.” Before she could protest, he leaned down and kissed her, a lingering kiss, far more than a Christmas touch, and she responded, oblivious to the whoops and cheers of the rest of the room. Then she drew away, laughing and exclaiming. Louise pranced up to them, eyes sparkling. “Mama says you will marry Colonel Hawkins. Please, please, may I be a bridesmaid?”
“Why, if I marry, you can certainly be my bridesmaid. I have to be asked first, you know.”
“And wear a wreath of flowers in my hair? Will you be married soon, as soon as ever can be?”
Colonel Hawkins brushed a wayward curl from the girl’s face. “Yes, sweetheart, as soon as ever can be.” He reached out for Georgiana’s hands and held them in a firm clasp. “Will you marry me, my dearest Georgiana?”
She raised laughing eyes to him, “How dare you ask me in such a way, in front of everyone?”
“Ah, because then we have so many witnesses, you cannot go back on it.”
“Then I say yes, with all my heart.”
* * *
MR DARCY’S HOUSE PARTY
Chapter One
As the carriage turned through the gates into the long drive that led up to the house, Mr. Darcy said, “I am glad to be back at Pemberley. I look forward to a period of peace and tranquillity after our time in London.”
They were on the sweep, the coachman was drawing in his reins–but what was that? Another carriage? A post-chaise with steaming horses was being taken away round the side towards the stables.
Mr. and Mrs. Darcy looked at one another in surprise. Who had arrived at Pemberley? This was no afternoon call by some misguided neighbour; that post-chaise spoke of a long journey.
A footman hurried forward to let down the steps of their carriage and Darcy handed his wife out of the carriage, remarking, “You are quite sure you have not invited anyone to stay?”
“The Bingleys are coming for the shooting, as you know, since you arranged it with Charles, but they do not come until Thursday,” Elizabeth said. “Besides, that is not their carriage.”
Instead of the usual neat line of servants waiting to greet their master and mistress, there was a hubbub in the spacious entrance hall. True, the steward and the butler were there, and the housekeeper, all of them looking slightly disconcerted. But there was another person standing in the centre, a tall young woman in a travelling cloak who had taken off her hat and was tucking her hair into place, saying in a decided and familiar voice, “My cousins are not yet back? And I am not expected? Well, I do not know why that is, for I sent an express from London.”
She turned and saw Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy. Smiling, she came over to greet them. “Cousin Darcy, and Cousin Elizabeth, how pleased I am to see you.”
“Sarah,” said Elizabeth, as she kissed the proffered cheek. “Whatever are you doing here? It must always be delightful to see you, but I had no idea you intended to pay us a visit.”
“Nor had I,” said Mr.. Darcy. “While I am pleased to see you, cousin, as always, your presence here fills me with a sense of foreboding. I trust there is nothing amiss in your family?”
Lady Sarah Fitzwilliam was the eldest daughter of Mr. Darcy’s uncle, who was the present earl and head of the family. She was a young lady of one-and-twenty, and a particular favourite of Elizabeth’s. Mr. Darcy liked her too, but he knew and was wary of her lively ways and independent spirit, both of which her father held to be the reason his daughter was not yet married.
Sarah said cheerfully, “Nothing seriously amiss. I am come here on account of the measles.”
Elizabeth stepped back. “Measles? Have you measles in your household? Then I wish you had not come, for though I suppose the children are bound to get it in due course I would much rather they did not have it just now.”
“Well, no, there is not the least danger of that. I had the measles myself when I was small. But both my half-sisters have gone down with it, and so mama was very concerned to keep me away from the nurseries and out of the house. She feels it would be inopportune were I to go down with the measles at this time.”
Mr. Darcy said, “I believe it is rare for persons to have it twice.” As he spoke, he was handing his many-caped coat to the butler and peeling off his gloves. Elizabeth’s maid was attending to her and, once she had shed her hat and pelisse, she said, “I do not know why we are standing around here in the hall.” She addressed the housekeeper. “Mrs. Richards, you will see to it that her usual bedchamber is prepared for Lady Sarah and her boxes are taken up.”
The Darcys and Sarah went up the stairs and into the drawing room, where Sarah flung herself down on to a sofa, and said, laughing, “I’m afraid I have not been entirely truthful. In fact I lied, for I told mama that I never had the measles.”
Mr. Darcy, who had positioned himself in front of the fireplace, regarded her with a quizzical smile. “And why did you feel obliged to perjure yourself, Sarah?”
“Oh, because I so wanted to get away. My brothers are out of London and I could not think of anywhere else to go. You know Mama disapproves of so many of my friends and relatives and it is quite the custom when anyone is in disgrace or ill for them to be sent here to Pemberley. And I am afraid I am in disgrace, as well as supposedly being in danger of catching the measles. I was not sent, exactly, but it comes to the same thing.”
Elizabeth said, “What have you been up to now? When we were in London, your brother told us that you were shortly to become engaged, and indeed, the news was all over town.”
Sarah was no longer laughing, and she said with a sigh, “Yes, Mama made quite sure that such a rumour was spread around town, but it is not entirely true. It seems that William Winterbourne, who as you know has recently come into title, estate and fortune, intends to make me an offer. He has been serving abroad in the army, but his new responsibilities oblige him to sell out. So he is back in England, and apparently in want of a wife. Mama urges his suit, and tells me my father will be mighty angry with me if he returns to hear I have refused such an excellent offer. I find the whole situation rather difficult, and so I decamped as fast as I could. You do not mind, do you, Cousin Darcy? I will be no trouble. I will just employ myself quietly in such domestic duties as Cousin Elizabeth feels inclined to lay upon me and you need not be disturbed at all.”
Mr. Darcy appreciated Sarah’s smiles and good humour, but, as he informed her, he also had a good idea that things were rarely tranquil when she was there.
Elizabeth had noticed the dark shadows under Sarah’s eyes. Despite her laughter and light-hearted remarks, it was obvious that she was not quite at ease with herself. So she said, “I am delighted that you are here, and although it is very shocking that you should deceive your Mama, I know just why you did so. My sister Jane will be here tomorrow, and the three of us may be very comfortable together. She has not been in town a good while, and will be glad to hear from both of us all the news of town and about the latest fashions.”
The mama of whom Sarah spoke was not her mother, but her stepmother. Her mother had died some years before and her father, after a decent perio
d of mourning, had married again, taking a rather younger woman as his second wife. She was not unkind to Sarah, but had no understanding of her and no affection beyond what she felt was her duty. Now that her own two daughters were grown to an age where they might be brought out, she was anxious for Sarah, an accredited beauty, to find herself a husband and quit her father’s house to make her home elsewhere.
In her opinion, it was unreasonable for Sarah to be still on the shelf, as she put it, and more than once had marvelled to her husband about his daughter’s single state. “It is astonishing that she is not yet married. With her breeding, her fortune and her beauty you would have thought that she would have accepted one or other of the eligible men who would have been very glad to offer for her, and indeed did so. But no; none of them would do for her. She is too nice, or perhaps too wilful. And you, my lord, have been too indulgent a father.”
Her father sensibly made no response to this familiar lament. He knew how difficult it had been for his daughter to lose her mother and Sarah reminded him of his first wife of whom he had been truly fond, although he had the wit never to say so to his second wife. “She will marry in her own good time, let her look about and find a man to suit her. She will not be happy with just any husband.”
But his lordship was presently in Sweden on a diplomatic mission, and Sarah’s stepmother ruled the roost while he was away. Her intention was simple if ill-natured: to make life in the family home so unpleasant for Sarah that she would gladly accept matrimony as a happier alternative. Lord Winterbourne had declared his interest and Sarah’s father had said, before he left, that he fancied Winterbourne might be the very man to make Sarah happy, and so her stepmother felt she was doing no more than her duty in forcing the issue.
The Darcys and Sarah dined quietly and well together in the smaller of the two dining rooms, and then after dinner Mr. Darcy went to his study.