Mr. Darcy's Obsession (17 page)

Chapter 13

The note from Derby House was not a surprise. Darcy had been expecting a confrontation with Henry after the recent events and had made a point of remaining at home as much as possible. Georgiana should not have to face their cousin alone. A meeting at Derby House was better, in any case. This way Georgiana would not hear any details of their discussion. He read once more the note written in an elegant secretary's script.
The Right Honourable the Viscount Langley requests the honour of your presence at your earliest convenience
. There was no point in waiting, so after leaving Simms strict instructions that Georgiana was not to receive callers during his absence, Darcy proceeded to Grosvenor Square.

He had never liked Derby House. It was too ostentatious for his taste, dark and imposing. Today he was not in a humour to pay his surroundings any mind. At least his uncle was not at home; he did not need that conflict as well. He found Henry in the parlour, his feet up and his hand prominently bandaged, two servants tending to him.

"More wine, damn your eyes!" Henry made an attempt to cuff the manservant, who flinched away. "Now, I said! Do you not realize I am ill? Oh, Darcy, you are here. It took you long enough."

"I am sorry to hear you are unwell." Darcy's mouth twisted. Henry was always ready to play the invalid role at the least excuse.

"Unwell? Look at this?" Henry belligerently stuck out his hand, lifting off the bandage to reveal puncture marks between his thumb and forefinger. Apparently Mary had sharp teeth. His hand was red and swollen near the wounds, but the injury was certainly not such that Henry could not have gone about his everyday activities. Then again, given what Henry's daily activities were likely to include, perhaps Darcy should be thankful to see him staying at home where only his own servants would be the recipients of his ill temper.

"Look what your damned brat of a girl did to me." Henry eased his hand down as if the effort caused him enormous pain, something Darcy seriously doubted. "She deserves to be whipped within an inch of her life."

"For defending herself?" Darcy asked mildly.

"For disobedience, damn it. You need to take your servants in hand. That slut was taking advantage of Georgiana, who should not even be in the same room with her. Since you are so damned soft with your servants, I decided to teach her a lesson about keeping her place. Your father knew how to handle servants. I do not know why you let them run wild."

The sad thing was that Henry no doubt believed himself in the right. It was hopeless to try to convince him otherwise. "I would hardly say they run wild. I was aware of the time Mary spent with Georgiana, and I had no objection to it. In any case, the decision is mine to make."

"Why should you care what happens to the little vixen? Do not tell me you have come to care for her! No bedmate is worth that."

"Hardly, and she is not my bedmate." He had not meant to say it, but it was a relief to do so.

"At Rosings, you were not so fastidious. Do not put on your church manners for me."

The heat of anger coiled through Darcy's chest. "Not even then. I said it to safeguard the girl from you. I do not take pleasure in hurting young girls."

"Hurt her? She was lucky to have such an opportunity."

"So you believe! Have you ever considered whether those less fortunate than you might have sensibilities as well? Is your birthright a license to abuse others at will? If so, I hope you never encounter someone with power greater than your own, or you may learn why you are so resented and disliked." Darcy could hardly believe the words coming from his mouth.

"You forget yourself, Darcy." Henry bit his lip.

Darcy recalled Mary sobbing in the kitchen, her face bruised. "I would rather say that I have remembered myself. Do not interfere with my staff again."

His cousin surged to his feet. "Your servants are not the only ones who are above themselves. I see I must teach
you
a lesson you will not forget, cousin." He swayed slightly. "As soon as my hand is healed, you may be sure I will attend to it."

"That may have been effective when we were boys and I was half your size, but it will not work now." It had happened often enough. Henry had frequently bullied both Richard and the young Darcy. Now Darcy realized that his habit of giving way to Henry was nothing more than a childhood fear of an older boy.

Henry's lips pursed and his face grew red. "Perhaps we should use men's weapons, then."

Was his idle, indolent cousin actually challenging him? Darcy would have been tempted to laugh, had fury not controlled his being. Henry no doubt expected him to back down as he always had, but he had come too far for that. With a start, he realized that he would be all too happy to meet Henry at sword's point, and not only because he knew himself to be the better swordsman. He gave a stiff nod. "I will wait to hear from you."

His blood thrummed in his ears as he stalked out of Derby House, grabbing his hat and gloves unceremoniously from the butler. Once outside under the cloudy skies, he took a deep gulp of London air, tasting the ever-present soot. He strode across the square, past a crowd of noisy roisterers, with a heavy heart. There could be no good outcome from this.

***

Jane cradled the baby in her arm as he nursed. "Lizzy, I am quite recovered. You should return to London."

Elizabeth did not need to ask why Jane was so eager for her to depart. "You should not put so much stock in Mr. Darcy. I will leave in a few days, perhaps, if you are stronger."

Jane's brows drew together. "You doubt his constancy, after all this time?"

"I do not doubt his affections or wishes. I also do not doubt that his family will be violently opposed to any match between us. It is easy for him to love me privately, but making it public is another matter. He may decide the price is too high." It was not a subject she enjoyed contemplating.

"He knows your worth, Lizzy. No price is too high." Jane's eyes grew dreamy as she gazed down at her son.

Nothing could reach Jane when she was lost in loving contemplation of the infant. "If you say so." A racket of bells came from the shop. "I should go help." She placed a cloth over Jane's shoulder before passing through into the shop.

The cause of the noise was immediately clear. Lydia cried Elizabeth's name and flung herself into her sister's arms with a histrionic flair that would have better befitted the stages of Drury Lane than the streets of Meryton. Lieutenant Ralston followed her in a more sedate manner, his smirk winning him no favour in his new sister's eyes. Lydia fluttered her left hand prominently in front of Elizabeth. "I declare, when I went away I had no notion of being married when I came back, but it is a fine joke, is it not?" She spoke loudly, as if any of the customers could have missed her entrance.

"Odd, I would have thought you might have had at least a slight notion," said Elizabeth dryly. She could tell that the smiles directed at her visibly increasing sister were derogatory rather than admiring, but to Lydia it seemed to make no difference.

"Nonsense," Lydia declared. "You are jealous that I am a married woman and you are not. Mama says I was very clever."

"Cleverness of that sort has never been my goal, but you have my best wishes."

Lydia grabbed Lieutenant Ralston's hand. "Do I not have the handsomest husband?"

"I always admire a gentleman whose behaviour is as handsome as his face."

If Lydia noted the slight in Elizabeth's words, she gave no sign of it. "Dearest Ralston, that red ribbon would look so handsome on my new bonnet, would it not?"

"Very handsome, my dear, but we came here only to greet your sister. You must wait until another day to purchase your trinkets." It was clear Lydia's pouts had no effect on him. His lack of attentiveness to his new bride told Elizabeth that her suspicions had been correct; his motives for marrying Lydia had little to do with affection.

She wondered how much Mr. Darcy had paid him. It seemed unfair that Lieutenant Ralston had been able to see him when she herself could not. Did he know what interest Darcy had in the matter? She could not bring herself even to admit to the question of whether he knew anything of Darcy's mind concerning her.

There was only one way to find out. She seized her chance when Lydia was distracted by a friend who provided an audience for the no-doubt embellished story of her marriage. "Lieutenant Ralston," Elizabeth said, "we must become better acquainted now that we are brother and sister. All the knowledge I have of you is hearsay from mutual acquaintances."

He bowed graciously. "I hope their words were kind."

"Indeed, I believe they have given me an accurate portrayal. Do you know we share an acquaintance in London as well as many here in Meryton?" She gave him a pointed look.

Charlie materialized at her elbow wearing his most earnest look, the one that usually hid some form of mischief. "Miss Bennet, I think your sister is calling for you. I can help the lieutenant."

"What remarkable hearing you have, Charlie," she said with an amused flick of her eyebrow to show him she was not fooled. "I was just speaking to Lieutenant Ralston about our mutual acquaintance, Mr. Darcy."

The lieutenant took an involuntary step backwards, glancing around furtively. "I was unaware you were acquainted with that gentleman."

"A surprising coincidence, is it not?"

He bowed again, apparently at a loss for words.

Charlie reached past her for a pair of shoe roses, stepping between Elizabeth and Lieutenant Ralston. "Perhaps Mrs. Ralston might like these, sir. Very fashionable, they are."

Whatever the connection between the lieutenant and Mr. Darcy, Charlie was clearly part of it and determined to keep her in ignorance of it. The pieces of the puzzle came together at last: Mr. Darcy must have sent Charlie to Meryton to divine the culprit in Lydia's condition. She had not been able to tell him directly when he asked, so he had discovered it in his own way.

It was too entertaining an opportunity to miss. "Charlie has met Mr. Darcy as well, have you not?"

"Mr. Darcy? Yes, he's a very fine gentleman, Lieutenant. Very fine indeed." Charlie winked at Elizabeth, apparently not the least put out by the improvisation.

Lieutenant Ralston said, "I cannot argue with you. I had not realized he had so many
connections
to the Bennet family." His eyes raked down Elizabeth's form. It was not difficult to guess what relationship he thought she had with Mr. Darcy.

Elizabeth's cheeks grew hot, though she could not have said how much was embarrassment and how much was anger at his presumption. She did not wish to think closely about how many people might come to that same conclusion, given the evidence.

Charlie drew himself up to his full height, which was still below Lieutenant Ralston's chin. "Mr. Darcy is an honourable gentleman, and he wouldn't take it kindly if somebody implied otherwise," he said belligerently.

The lieutenant's hand fell to the hilt of his sword, but Charlie did not so much as flinch. It was amusing to see the young boy facing down the uniformed officer of His Majesty's militia. But Lieutenant Ralston would not dare draw the sword, and should it come to fisticuffs, Elizabeth would put her money on Charlie's cleverness over his opponent's brawn.

Still, she was relieved to hear Mr. Browning's heavy footfalls behind her, though he seemed oblivious to the conflict at hand. His proud attention was all on the swaddled infant in his arms. Elizabeth suspected that there was not a soul in Meryton who had not been subjected to one of Mr. Browning's presentations of his son in the last fortnight. One would think he was the first man in history to father a child.

"Lydia, you will want to meet your new nephew," he said, as if granting her a great privilege. "Is he not a handsome, lusty boy?"

Lydia looked up from the ribbons in her hand just long enough to give the baby a disinterested glance. "All babies look alike to me. Where did you get these hideous ribbons? They are no longer at all the fashion in London." She dropped them in an untidy heap on the table.

Mr. Browning's brow darkened. "Must I speak to you yet again about proper respect?"

"You cannot tell me what to do. You no longer have any authority over me, for I am a married woman now." Lydia wore a triumphant look.

Lieutenant Ralston placed a hand on Lydia's arm. "Now, now, my dear, I am sure you did not intend to give offense."

Lydia yanked her arm away, giving him a disbelieving look. "You need not take his side. You are an officer, and he is a mere shopkeeper."

"He is still your brother, my dear."

Lydia sniffed. "I need not acknowledge him. We all know Jane married him only for convenience."

The veins stood out on Mr. Browning's temple and his face grew red. "You need a lesson in respect, young lady, married woman or not!"

The baby began to howl in response to the angry voices. Elizabeth took him from his irate father and swayed soothingly from side to side. Mr. Browning half-dragged Lydia by the arm through the door between the shop and the house, despite her cries of protest. Lieutenant Ralston seemed disinclined to intervene.