Mr. Darcy's Obsession (5 page)

"Oh, pish-tosh, Darcy. As her husband, you can keep her locked away at Pemberley. You need not even see her. Henry's position would not allow that. If you do not marry Anne, after Catherine dies she will be the target of every adventurer and rogue. Even a footman could take advantage of her and then claim the necessity of marriage. No, she must marry first, but who could we trust outside the family? Once she is married, her husband has complete control of her fortune."

Richard put his hands out in front of his chest. "Do not even suggest it. Lady Catherine would never accept me as her son-in-law. She has always wanted Pemberley."

"She will not gain Pemberley through me. Perhaps we should consider other plans." Darcy had given the matter years of thought. "We need someone whose best interest lies in caring well for Anne. Perhaps a younger son of a country squire, one who is respectable and knows how to manage an estate and has no interest beyond land of his own. You could make it clear that if he mistreats her in any way, the combined might of the Fitzwilliam and Darcy families will be turned against him." If Elizabeth only had a brother, he could marry Anne, and it would solve all his problems. Of course, if she had a brother, Longbourn would not have been entailed away in the first place.

Henry nodded. "Better yet, make certain there is some flaw in the wedding ceremony, so we have the threat of annulling the marriage if needed."

The earl tapped the ash from his cigar. "Excellent idea, Henry. But we must approach this delicately, and I must find such a man."

Henry snorted. "And hire some pretty maids here before he visits, so he can have some consolation for his marriage bed. There isn't a girl worth bedding in this entire house. Why can Aunt Catherine not hire maids who are not a punishment to look at?"

"She does not want the competition," Richard said. "It makes Anne look better."

"Still, it is dull for us. Thank God Georgiana is here. Her figure--now that is worth contemplating."

"Henry!" Darcy snapped.

"Oh, do not worry, Darcy, I will not touch your precious sister. Though I would not mind marrying her myself, if Father did not have other plans for me. Those hips hold promise."

Darcy gritted his teeth. Hell would freeze over before he agreed to a marriage between Henry and Georgiana. "Henry, you are drunk. Save it for your London friends."

The earl raised his glass. "Your health." He took a good swig and then pushed the remaining glass in Darcy's direction. "Darcy, I insist you have some. You need something to raise your spirits. I have never seen such a gloomy countenance."

"I am perfectly well." Darcy was not up to one of his uncle's inquisitions, so he took a tiny sip of the port.

"You should take Henry's point of view, Darcy. You need a girl. That would make you lively again. I saw a girl in the village yesterday well worth bedding." He ran his hands in front of him, demonstrating the attributes that appealed to him. "And she would be willing, for the right price, I would bet on it."

"Darcy has no need of assistance in finding willing women, Father," Richard said. "They are constantly throwing themselves at him."

Darcy understood Richard's warning glance, but the frustration of dealing with his uncle and his aunts took the edge off his habitual caution. "I find this topic distasteful, Uncle."

The earl barked out a laugh. "Distasteful! Oliver Cromwell has been dead for a century and a half, Darcy. What a fine Puritan you would have made!"

Darcy drained his glass of port and set it down hard enough that the crystal rang. "Better a Puritan than a wastrel."

His uncle's eyes narrowed. Darcy steeled himself for a demonstration of the famous Fitzwilliam temper.

This time it was Henry who intervened, stretching his feet out in front of himself and folding his hands behind his head. "Now, Father," he drawled. "Be kind. Can you not see the poor boy is in love?" He smirked at Darcy.

Darcy's heart skipped a beat. "I am not in love!"

Henry's eyes held a look of spiteful glee. "Methinks the gentleman doth protest too much! I have seen you staring out the window at nothing, taking long walks around the park and refusing company, reading love poetry. Such a long face, though. Is it so hard to be separated from your mistress for a fortnight?"

"I have no mistress," Darcy said evenly. Henry could be like a foxhound when he scented blood.

The earl gestured to Richard to pour another round of port. "No mistress? What, did you happen to fall in love with one of the few virtuous wives in England? If not a wife, between your money and your name, you can marry at will, and if she is not appropriate, you can afford her price."

The vision of Elizabeth's sparkling eyes laughing at him, making a mockery of the dull brown of Moorsfield, came before him. "Not every woman has a price," he said, his words clipped.

"Pish-posh." Henry raised his glass to Darcy. "All women have their price. You have not bid high enough yet. Find out what she truly desires and give it to her. Dangle it in front of her. Or compromise her so she has no choice but to be your mistress."

Rage began to bubble in Darcy's chest. "When I desire to become a rake, I will certainly come to you for lessons, cousin. Until then, pray speak of ladies with respect in front of me."

Henry turned to his father mockingly and pointed a finger towards Darcy. "See, Father? He is in love."

The earl stroked his beard. "I do believe you are correct. Who is she, Darcy?"

"She is no one! There is no such woman."

"She is no one, eh? What sort of no one is she?"

Darcy debated how high the price would be if he walked out of the room that instant. Too high, in all probability. The earl knew his weak point and would needle Georgiana mercilessly for the pleasure of seeing Darcy squirm. "Must I invent a lady to satisfy you, then?"

Henry's smile showed he had scented the blood. "Father, I wager you a thousand pounds I can find her before you do. And find her price."

"And enjoy her before he does? No, Henry, save those tricks for your friends. Darcy is family," the earl said. "Now, Darcy, would you not rather tell us who she is than raise Henry's curiosity?"

Was this how the fox felt when he heard the horns of the hunt? Thank God he had decided to stay away from Moorsfield. There was nothing for them to find; no one knew where he went each morning. "Look all you like, if you enjoy chasing wild geese."

Richard shot him a warning glance. "Have it your way, Darcy, but I am glad not to be so choosy as you. There is a lovely lady on Drury Lane who has caught
my
fancy. A face that would launch ships and a figure to die for. Unfortunately, she belongs to someone else, but I can wait until he tires of her."

Henry waggled a finger at his younger brother. "Or go backstage between the acts with a pearl necklace, and I wager you will be satisfied. Which theatre?"

"The Haymarket. Mrs. Symons. Stunning chestnut hair, green eyes, and a dulcet voice."

Henry snapped his fingers. "I know the very one! I saw her in
The Country Wife.
"

Richard raised his eyebrows. "Last I heard, that play was still banned."

"Nothing is banned if Prinny wants it enough. They did a private performance for him."

Richard helped himself to another glass of port and then took the chair between Darcy and Henry. "Tell me, is it as wicked as they say?"

"Even more wicked, and delightful. The actresses stayed afterwards."

Richard gave a silent whistle. "I should have liked to see such a sight. Or to have enjoyed it myself."

Henry laughed and raised his glass. "Take another lesson, Darcy. Our father has not raised any Puritans."

"So I see." Darcy knew Richard was trying to protect him by playing the rake, but he had no taste for this game. "Yes, I certainly see what you mean."

Chapter 5

This was the worst visit to Rosings Park Darcy could recall, and there had been many unpleasant ones. The only time Darcy ever enjoyed Rosings was when Elizabeth was there. He should have followed her when she left and proposed; then she would be in his bed tonight helping him laugh at all the nonsense.

After a tense dinner, Richard invited him back to his room. The door had barely closed behind them when Richard tore off his cravat and flung it over the bedrail. "Finally. That damned thing has been choking me all night."

Darcy slumped into a richly upholstered chair. It was uncomfortable, like all the furnishings at Rosings. "The conversation, if you care to call it that, was asphyxiating enough. Present company excepted, of course, though I was afraid that if your father mentioned Lady Mary one more time, I might have had to pull you off him. Does he know?"

Richard's valet appeared silently from the dressing room and cast a mildly reproachful look at his master as he picked up the discarded cravat and folded it. Richard turned his back to him, shrugged off his tailcoat into Robbins's waiting hands, and said, "Completely oblivious, as far as I know, and I prefer to keep it that way. It would make no difference in any case."

"Is it certain, then, that she will marry Henry?"

Richard grimaced. "They are still negotiating with her father. And no, there is nothing I can do to stop it. She does not wish to marry Henry, but her father will never consent to allow her to marry me, and she will not act without his consent. So Henry will make her miserable, and I will be the friend who offers her what little solace I can." He began to unbutton his waistcoat. "It was bad enough when the best I could hope for was to partner her for a dance, to allow our hands to touch briefly, and the occasional clandestine meeting. Watching her with Henry... it does not bear thinking on."

"I am sorry. Perhaps the negotiations will come to nothing; it has happened often enough before."

"One can but hope. I have long since resigned myself that she will marry another man, but I would prefer it not to be Henry. Robbins, damn it, where is my robe? A man could freeze to death in here." Richard took the poker and stirred the fire with unnecessary vigour until the flames leapt high.

Robbins came up behind him, holding out the quilted moss-green robe. "Here it is, sir. My apologies."

Richard nodded to him and pulled the robe around himself. "Is there no brandy here?"

Robbins bowed. "I will fetch it immediately." If he was perturbed by his master's unusual ill temper, it was not apparent as he took a bottle from a small cabinet and poured the amber liquid into two snifters.

Richard took the proffered glass and moodily swirled it. "They were in fine form today, both my father and Henry, blast and damn them both. You were fortunate to get off so lightly when you refused to marry Anne."

"It was quite enough for me. I do not know how you tolerate it."

Richard shrugged. "You should not allow them to bait you so. Tell them what they want to hear, and that will be the end of it. What does it matter if they think you have mistresses on every street corner? I say what they want to hear, and do as I please."

"If your damned brother had not tried to besmirch Georgiana, I might have done so as well. If he so much as looks at her, I will call him out."

"He only does that to annoy you. She is not his sort; he prefers women who are well versed in bedroom arts."

"Charming," Darcy muttered beneath his breath. "Will you warn me, Richard, if Henry decides to go lady hunting?"

Richard paused to look at him. "So there is a lady."

"No, there is not; but there is a lady I have shown interest in, and I cannot allow him near her."

"So there is
not
a lady, yet there is. How puzzling."

"I have decided not to see her again." There it was again, that familiar wrenching pain in his gut.

"Who is she?"

Richard was the one person he could tell. "You have met her. Miss Elizabeth Bennet. She stayed with that parson, the grovelling one, when we visited here two years ago." It was a relief to speak her name.

"Yes, I remember her well! Charming girl, if a bit outspoken. I might have fancied her myself, had she any money to her name."

Darcy narrowed his eyes. "She has even less now. Her family has been dispossessed after her father's death, and she is living on the charity of relatives."

"Poor girl." Richard took a long swallow of brandy. "How do you come into it, then?"

"I came into it, so to speak, years ago. She bewitches me. I once even thought of making her an offer. But I put her behind me, until we happened to meet again recently."

"She will not accept your protection? A pity; it sounds as if she would be better off than she is now."

Darcy choked on the wine in his mouth. When he could speak again, he said fiercely, "I do not want her as my mistress. I respect her too much for that."

Richard shook his head slowly. "You are far gone, my friend."

"
That
is not news." And he hated himself for it.

"Why not marry her, then? If she would be willing to tolerate all your insufferable relations, that is."

"Do not be ridiculous."

"Why is it ridiculous?
I
cannot have the woman I love, but you can. I would give anything for your opportunities." Richard made no attempt to mask his bitterness. "You are the most fortunate man in England. You need please no one with your marriage. You should seize the opportunity."

"It is not that simple."

"Certainly society will laugh behind their hands, but do you really care? You have enough money to do as you please."

"The family. Georgiana. My duty to them."

"You owe a duty to my estimable father and brother? I cannot think why. If Lady Mary would agree to defy her father, I would marry her in a second and care not a jot for the wrath of my family. I have begged her to do as much for years. When you are on your deathbed, will you be comforted by knowing you did your duty to your family and left the woman you love to suffer alone in God knows what kind of circumstances? Good God, man, think on it."

Darcy dug his fingernails into his palms "I think on Georgiana. It would harm her prospects to no end."

"Her prospects among whom? The likes of John Blakeney and Thomas Neville? By God, if it were my choice, I would not allow her to marry any of them. Let her have a peaceful life as a spinster. She would never want for anything, and no man could mistreat her."

Darcy shook his head. Richard was starting to sound like Bingley. "You talk as if there are no decent men to be found, but you yourself are proof it is not true. And I know others."

"Of course there are. It is just the things I see... most of the young men who surround other heiresses, I would not want them near Georgiana. I would marry her myself before that."

"I have heard worse ideas than that." Some of them that very afternoon.

With a bitter chuckle, Richard clapped him on the shoulder. "Darcy, you have had too much to drink. That was a joke. I could no more bed Georgiana than I could my own daughter, if I had one. Go to bed. Perhaps you will think more clearly in the morning."

Darcy took the hint. His footsteps echoed down the long corridor, lit only by the candle in his hand. The upstairs servants were all abed already, resting for another day at Lady Catherine's beck and call.

At least he could spend the hours of darkness in the silent haven of his rooms. After the tension of the day, he craved the release of solitude. He was no sooner in the door of his rooms than he shrugged off his topcoat, tossing it carelessly over the back of a chair. His cravat had been choking him all evening, and his hands tore at the knot. He took a deep breath when the snow-white cloth finally hung loose over his shoulders. Then he realized he was not alone.

There was a girl in his bed. She sat up when she saw his gaze, the sheets dropping away to reveal that she was wearing nothing at all apart from long blond hair.

This was the last thing he needed. Darcy averted his eyes automatically. "Miss, I fear you are in the wrong room. I will step into the dressing room so you may clothe yourself and go." He wondered whose bed she was supposed to be in--no doubt Henry's or his uncle's.

"I was told to come to you, Mr. Darcy, sir," she said. "Will you not come to bed?" She looked uncertain, and even younger.

He silently cursed his uncle, the infuriating, interfering old codger. "I have no need of your services," he said, his voice clipped. "You may go."

The bedsheets rustled as he turned to take haven in the dressing room, but before he could escape, the girl was standing in front of him, every inch of her body revealed. She put her hands on his chest. "I can please you, sir. I will do anything you wish. Anything at all." The girl sounded as if she were saying lines she had memorized in advance.

As an effort at seduction, it was a poor one, which was fortunate, because he was no more invulnerable to a naked woman's form than any other man. But although he might be tempted to forget his cares in her arms, it would not work. She was not Elizabeth.

Besides, the girl did not hold her body the way a woman who wants to gain a man's attention would. He realized she had no idea what she was doing. His uncle must have thought a virgin would tempt him. How little he knew his nephew. Gentlemen in town might pay a high premium to take a girl's virginity, but the mere thought left a sour taste in Darcy's mouth. He had never been interested in bedding women unless they were willing and eager, not frightened girls barely out of childhood whose lives would be ruined by the experience.

Good God, she was probably younger than Georgiana. Younger than his sister. She could even
be
his sister, and him never the wiser--his father had spent enough time at Rosings, and had no doubt sampled the local wares. He shook his head to clear it. "Put on your clothes and go."

Her frightened eyes filled with tears. "Please, sir. I promise I can please you."

The only way she could please him was magically to turn into Elizabeth. He rummaged in the wardrobe and found a handful of coins. He placed them in her hand, carefully not looking at her naked form. "There. You will not suffer for it."

"But my lord said he would have me whipped if I did not satisfy you. He will know if I leave."

Damn his uncle to everlasting perdition! "You can spend the night in my dressing room, then." His uncle had no doubt told his valet to stay elsewhere. "I will tell Lord Matlock you were most satisfactory." He laced the words with disgust.

"You will? Oh, thank you, sir. You are the kindest gentleman ever to walk the earth." She grabbed at his hand and kissed it.

He snatched his hand away, picked up the worn dress, and thrust it at her. "Go, then."

She clutched the dress to her body and hastened to the door he indicated. Just before she scuttled behind it, she said fervently, "I will always pray for you, sir."

He sank onto the bed and covered his face in his hands. What a world, where a young girl was offering her prayers, the only thing of value she had, in thanks because he had not violated her body. Poor child, to have her innocence sold.

Richard's words about Georgiana came back to him. Was this so different from what his uncle wished to do, to auction Georgiana off to the gentleman who could give the family the most prestige? Darcy's attempts to secure Bingley for Georgiana and bypass the marriage market had failed, and she would be coming out in a few months. Richard was right; there were few gentlemen of his acquaintance who would make her anything but miserable.

But he was expected to find a man of good fortune for Georgiana, regardless of such a man's temperament. Elizabeth, too, would likely have to wed whatever man her uncle chose, in order to have a home. And the poor girl in his dressing room, sold by her family as well. All for what? He longed for Elizabeth's presence beside him, her fine eyes embracing him and offering comfort. What would she think of him, had she seen this scene?

In truth, Elizabeth probably would have barely spared him a thought, and instead worried about the girl, whose lot was far worse than his and who must have been terrified. He would have to make certain she was returned to her family safely the next day. Elizabeth would have liked that. Elizabeth, who was out of his reach forever, because she was beneath him. "Damn it all to hell!" he ground out, punching his hand into the pillow hard enough to send a few downy feathers floating off. He wished it had been his uncle's face instead.

He needed sleep, but instead his veins were running with anger, and there was a frightened child on the other side of the door, not to mention his uncle to deal with in the morning. What was he to say to him? Or was it Henry who had arranged this surprise?

Better to know the truth of it before dealing with them. He knocked peremptorily at the dressing room door before opening it. The girl looked frankly terrified to see him. Her eyes were red rimmed. Did she think he had changed his mind?

"I wish only to ask you a question," Darcy said hurriedly.