A Spy at Pemberley (8 page)

'Of course I do, but it would have been better if you you hadn't threatened to manhandle them from the premises if they refuse to go. Imagine the fuss that will cause? Charles and Jane will have no choice but to go with them and I shall be devastated if my sister leaves under such circumstances.'

His eyes glittered; he was as moved as she. 'I'm sorry, my love, but I will not go back on what I said. Pemberley is mine and I will not have my authority challenged.'

'Is the place you offered them so awful?'

He shook his head. 'Absolutely not. Although not as big as Netherfield it is far larger than The Old Rectory where King and your sister live quite comfortably. They could buy anything as substanial with what Caroline brings to the union.'

'In which case I shall not cavil at your decision. I just pray that Jane can talk sense into Charles and he can persuade Miss Bingley to leave peaceably tomorrow morning.'

He held out his hand and she took it. He pulled her gently to her feet, his smile sad. 'If things come to the use of force, Lizzy, then Miss Bingley and Forsyth will rue the day they pushed me to this. They will not be received by any respectable family – I shall make it my business to let everybody know of their elopement and subsequent behaviour.'

There was no opportunity to reply as Peterson appeared to announce that dinner was served. The only positive aspect of this episode was the fact that now they could not possibly go to London. Fitzwilliam would be far too busy protecting the Darcy name.

Chapter Eight

Darcy did his best to turn the conversation away from anything controversial. Lizzy ate very little and everything he put in his mouth tasted the same. They were both relieved when the final cover was removed.

'I have the headache, I am retiring immediately. Good night, Fitzwilliam.'

He stood, as was expected of him. 'We need to talk, Lizzy, but as you are feeling unwell this will have to wait until tomorrow morning.' When she was at the door he added a final comment. 'I shall not importune you this evening but I expect to be able to do so if I should so want.'

She continued as if he hadn't spoken and he didn't intend to exacerbate matters by saying more on this difficult subject. He would send his valet in to remove the key when she was elsewhere. He had no intention of going in uninvited but it was a matter of principle that all doors should be open to him.

He retreated to his study and made steady inroads into the decanter of brandy that always stood waiting on the bureau. Despite the quantity of alcohol he consumed his mood did not improve. The adage that one could drown one's sorrows was patently incorrect. He was as miserable in his cups as he had been sober.

The clock struck midnight. Too late to send for a refill – Peterson would have retired and he could hardly drag the old fellow out of bed. He might as well do the same. The last candle had been snuffed and the fire was safely guarded. Picking up his candlestick he turned to leave the room when something banged on the window.

He dropped the heavy silver candlestick on the floor and the study was plunged into darkness. What the devil was that? He swore under his breath at being as startled as a child by something as innocuous as a night-time noise.

There was sufficient light from the fireplace for him to recover his candle and as he was doing so there was a second loud bang. Somebody was trying to attract his attention. The house would be locked for the night so whoever was outside would have to scramble in over the windowsill.

'Wait a minute – I'll be there directly.' Quickly he reignited half a dozen candles and then drew back the curtains and opened the shutters. A ghostly white face pressed against the panes and for a shocking moment he thought one of the Pemberley spectres had returned to haunt him.

'Darcy, let me in. I need to talk to you most urgently.' Bingley's voice was muffled by the glass.

'I'll open the window and you can climb in.'

Once his friend was safely inside, and things restored, he gestured towards one of the leather-covered armchairs by the fire. Bingley sank into one and immediately dropped his head into his hands and groaned.

There could be only one explanation for his behaviour – Forsyth had passed on his ultimatum.

'Do you require me to find some brandy? I finished this decanter.' He was a trifle unsteady and hastily sat opposite his visitor before his inebriation could be noticed.

Bingley looked up. 'Like you, old friend, I've already consumed far more than is good for me. I couldn't visit until everyone was abed and both houses quiet. Jane is distraught at the thought that you would evict us from our home.'

'I don't want to do so – of course I don't. Lizzy would never forgive me if that happened. However, I cannot allow your sister and Forsyth to remain at Pemberley.'

'I wish to God we had not found her. It would have been far better if she'd continued on her way to Scotland.'

Darcy shared his views on this matter and his friend was at first incredulous and then accepted the whole thing had been deliberately planned.

'This upset is not good for Jane. Her health is precarious at the moment and I fear she will miscarry the baby if things don't calm down.'

'Have you told your sister and Forsyth that they have to leave?'

Bingley shook his head miserably. 'There was so much screaming and crying I hid in my study and left them to it. They will leave. I shall instruct my staff to pack their trunks at first light. I give you my word, Caroline and Forsyth will be gone before breakfast.'

'I can hardly allow them to use my property after their behaviour. They will have to resume their journey to Scotland and take the consequences.'

'I shall ensure they have sufficient funds to travel there.' Bingley yawned and stretched out his legs towards the fire. 'I'm wondering if any of their story is true. Do you think his family actually objected to the union and are looking for them?'

'I care not either way, and neither should you. Wash your hands of them – in a day or two she will no longer bear your name and I doubt that the scandal will reach here.'

Bingley looked longingly at the empty decanter. 'I need a stiff drink…'

'What we both need is coffee so we can clear our heads and be ready for the morning.'

*

Lizzy was on edge waiting to hear Fitzwilliam moving about next door. She must have fallen asleep because when she woke she was disorientated and the candles had burned out. There would be no more rest until she was sure he was there.

Even the fire had gone out and the room was unpleasantly chill. Hastily she pulled on her bedrobe and pushed her bare feet into her slippers. This was done by touch alone; what she needed was to find the tinderbox and light a candle, but she doubted she would locate what she needed in the darkness.

She kept her eyes closed and edged her way across the carpet, her hands outstretched, hoping she would arrive safely at the communicating door. She managed this without mishap and quietly turned the key. The door opened inwards and, holding her breath, she carefully inched it open.

The room was dark and cold. She knew immediately that he wasn't there. In all the years since they had been married he had never failed to come to bed if he was at home. He wasn't given to staying up all night drinking himself into a stupor. Something untoward had taken place and she would go downstairs to ensure that he was safe.

This couldn't be done without a candle to guide her. She would have to reverse her steps and try and find the dressing room where the fresh candles and tinderbox were kept. She'd left the door open and slowly moved in what she hoped was the correct way. Her sense of direction was normally excellent and she had no doubt she would reach her destination safely.

Then her right leg collided with something solid and she lost her balance. She had walked into the bed. As she fell her hands grasped at the covers but, instead of preventing her fall, they added to the chaos by slithering from the bed and entangling her within their suffocating folds.

She thrashed about in panic trying to dislodge the material and twice her slippered toes connected painfully with the bed frame. Then she was hoisted from the carpet.

'Sweetheart, stand still and let me untangle you.' Fitzwilliam, as always, had come to her rescue.

The choking coverlets were removed and she was able to breathe again. The room was still dark, but not as black as before as there was a faint light flickering from next door.

'I was looking for you. Where have you been?'

His answer was to sweep her from her feet and carry her into his room. 'You cannot sleep in there. You must have my bed.'

She was placed on her feet and he stepped away making it clear he had no intention of joining her unless invited. He appeared a little unsteady on his feet and for a moment she thought he was unwell. Then she realised he was a trifle bosky.

Her lips curved. 'I think you can rest next door as I doubt you will notice the disarray of the covers the state that you are in.'

He raised a hand in salute. 'I have been drinking with Bingley. We have resolved our differences and his sister and Forsyth will be leaving tomorrow.'

'I'm pleased to hear you say so. Thank you. I'll not ask how Charles came to be drinking with you – you can tell me in the morning. You will need to take a candle with you.'

'How perspicacious of you, my love. I shall take this one so you had better get into bed before it goes.'

He stretched out to pick up the candlestick and his hand missed it entirely. He was a danger to himself.

'Fitzwilliam, I will light other candles so we can both see what we are doing.' She proceeded to do just this whilst he swayed dangerously in the doorway. 'Come along, I can help you disrobe. You will have a shocking headache tomorrow and I shall have absolutely no sympathy for your suffering.'

'I intend to sleep in my boots, my dear, it will be a novel experience.' His smile disarmed her. 'And I can assure you it's not one I intend to repeat anytime soon.'

She placed a light on the bedside table and then quickly gathered up the scattered covers from the floor. By the time she had done so he was spreadeagled on the sheet and snoring loudly. Once he was safely tucked in she retreated to his bedchamber.

She left the door ajar in case he cast up his accounts in the night and needed her assistance. As she drifted off to sleep in the marital bed she couldn't help thinking that her decision to sleep apart from him had somehow been circumvented.

Whilst she was in his domain he had every right to be beside her. This was the first time since she'd known him she had seen him the worse for drink. It should have disgusted her, but on the contrary it made her love him more. The man she had met all those years ago at the assembly at Meryton would have been too proud to have allowed himself to be seen in such a state.

He had changed and for the better. They would go to London as planned. She was almost looking forward to the visit even though it meant leaving the children behind. Spending three weeks alone with him would be delightful, despite the fact they must attend a variety of social events.

At dawn she was awakened when the bed dipped and her husband slid in beside her. For an appalled moment she thought he'd got into bed with his boots on but then his naked thigh touched hers and she forgot she was cross with him.

They arrived at the breakfast parlour at the same time as Charles and Jane. 'Lizzy, they have gone. I can't tell you how relieved I am this unpleasantness is over.'

Her sister ran towards her and they embraced fondly. 'I hope this is the last we ever hear of them.'

'Oh, I hope so too. I cannot bear to think that dreadful woman will come here a second time to cause trouble between us. I should never have allowed myself to be taken in by her and supported her against you and Darcy.'

Charles took his wife's arm. 'You were not to blame for that, my dear. It was I that was gulled by her. You must not fret; it's bad for you in your delicate condition. All you need to know is that they have gone from here. What might happen in the future is something we shall not dwell on at the moment.'

Lizzy felt a trickle of apprehension slither down her back. Charles thought his sister might cause trouble at a later date and she feared he might be correct.

*

Darcy took Bingley to one side whilst the ladies were talking fondly together. 'Did they leave without a fuss?'

'They had no option as I sent my staff in to pack their belongings whilst they were still asleep. By the time they had both got up it was a
fait accompli.
I didn't speak to either of them. They were escorted from the premises whilst I skulked in my study until they had gone.'

'Presumably they will continue on their journey to Scotland if they are genuinely determined to be married away from their family. However, my friend, I think if we bothered to check we would find that they are returning to London. There will be a notice of their nuptials in The Times in a few weeks and you can forget about them.'

Had Forsyth told Bingley of his threat to have his sister and her future husband ostracised? Perhaps it would be better not to bring this subject up, but let time pass before he mentioned it. As far as he was concerned the matter was over unless Miss Bingley caused further trouble.

'When do you depart for Town?'

'Next week. We shall not be gone long and rely on you and Jane to ensure my children are well in our absence.'

'Absolutely. Why not move them into our nursery for the duration? Their nanny and nursemaids can accompany them so they will not feel neglected.'

Lizzy and Jane drifted over to join them and he broached the suggestion.

His wife was delighted to accept. 'I shall be so much happier knowing they are under your care, Jane dearest.'

Darcy was aware that his sister-in-law looked less pleased about having her niece and nephew in residence. Did she think Fabian and Amanda might bring sickness to her own child? He knew little about such things but was well aware his offspring were far more robust than little Charlotte.

He put his arm around Lizzy's waist. 'I was thinking it would be a good notion to send word to our respective sisters and invite them to dine, but then I recalled that Kitty cannot travel. Perhaps we could go to The Old Rectory instead?'

'I should like that. As we are now intending to leave in a few days' time it had better be tonight or the next day. I'll write a note immediately and then Kitty can send word to Georgiana and Jonathan.'

They were now far enough away from Jane and Bingley for him to explain his concerns about moving their children next door.