The Phantom of Pemberley (33 page)

DARCY CHECKED ON Elizabeth before he joined the viscount and the Pemberley staff members. Finding his wife enjoying a cup of tea, he kissed her and then rushed downstairs to address yet another mystery unfolding under his roof.

“I have instructed the butler and housekeeper to ask about the missing maid and report any details they discover,” Adam Lawrence informed Darcy when Pemberley’s master suddenly appeared in the main foyer.

“Thank you, Your Lordship.” Darcy gestured toward the main drawing room, the one Darcy used when he first welcomed his guests to Pemberley. “Let us see if there is any brandy left in the decanter.”

“I thought this madness had taken a vacation.” Stafford fell in beside Darcy.

Darcy shook his head in disbelief.“I had hoped. I cannot imagine how I will explain all this to the local magistrate. I have taken to making notes daily so I do not omit anything.”

They took up chairs before the dying embers of the hearth. Neither of them bothered with stoking the fire—they would not stay long. “Do you think the maid committed the destruction we witnessed in Mrs.Wickham’s room?”

“I no longer know what I should believe.” Darcy raked his fingers through his hair. “I pray it is simply a matter of a
rogue
servant taking out her lack of patience with a difficult mistress.As appalling
as it would be to have such a person in my employ, the alternative is not something I wish to consider.” Darcy paused before adding, “I should tell you, we have a new guest on the second level. He is one Lieutenant Harwood, a compatriot of Colonel Fitzwilliam’s and an avowed suitor of my cousin Anne.”

Lord Stafford weighed his words carefully. “Your tone says you do not approve of the lieutenant. Is there something else of which I should be made aware?”

Darcy would not mention Anne’s possible ruination. “The lieutenant reports this part of Derbyshire suffered the most in the storm. He claims that he rode here from Cheshire. Carriage travel, he says, is not yet fully available. I imagine that it should only be a matter of a few days.”

Stafford’s quick analysis brought an ironic retort. “Are you telling me that if Cathleen and I had continued on our journey that we might have outrun the storm?”

Darcy chose his words carefully. “
If
the lieutenant is to be believed, then the answer is in the affirmative.”

Stafford sat forward in interest. “
If?
What are not saying, Darcy? The lieutenant is not to be trusted?”

“I have no knowledge of the man’s true character, Stafford, but I have learned not to accept anything at face value.When you hear the lieutenant speak, listen carefully.”

Stafford did not respond; they understood each other. “You will seek my aid if you need it, Darcy.”The viscount stood to take his leave.

“Should I apply to your chamber or that of your cousin?”

“If you ask the question, I must assume you already know the answer.”The viscount strolled casually toward the open door. “My
cousin
has chosen to no longer accept my protection when this is over.” Stafford’s voice did not betray his own ambivalence about the situation.

Darcy paused momentarily before adding,“I am sorry to hear it; as
cousins
go, the young lady offers a touch of true class.”

“I believe she does.”

 

By the time Darcy climbed the stairs, Elizabeth slept. He joined his men as they searched the house for the errant maid. He really did not expect to find Lucinda Dodd; she had disappeared, just as the Pemberley phantom did every time they had an opportunity to capture him. Frustration filled him as he undressed for the evening. He wanted this over—Darcy wanted to go back to his life before the siege on his household.

He struggled out of his jacket before addressing his waistcoat and cravat. He could not even remember the last time he had depended on his valet to help him disrobe at night. “Yes, you do, you fool. It was your wedding night,” he murmured. “The night this goddess gave herself to you.” He knew he should let Elizabeth sleep alone—exhaustion plagued her—but he did not believe he could ever again sleep without her next to him.Without Elizabeth in his arms, he felt bereft of life—she had imprinted herself on his soul.

Darcy stripped away his breeches and small clothes and crawled under the blankets with her. His weight caused her to roll toward him, and Darcy scooped Elizabeth into his arms. “Fitzwilliam?” she mumbled.

“You were expecting someone else?” he teased as he stroked the hair from her face and kissed her temple.

Elizabeth smiled mischievously, keeping her eyes closed.“My lover.”

Darcy nibbled on her earlobe. “Does your lover make you gasp with anticipation?” He kissed his way down her neck, creating the sensation he had just described. Then his lips brushed hers. “Does your lover make you quiver with his touch?” He brushed Elizabeth’s breasts before trailing a line of fire across her hips. He feathered kisses along her chin line. “Does your lover bring you such ecstasy that it is a tempest impossible to control?”

“No, sir,” she said as she snuggled into his chest, inhaling his scent—the smell of a powerful male. “Only my husband brings forth such pleasure. He is love incarnate.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, and then a curious kind of peace crossed his face.“Then I am thankful that I am your husband, ma’am.”

“As am I, Mr. Darcy.”

He kissed Elizabeth’s upturned nose. “Rest, my Love.Your husband is here to take care of you.” He wrapped her in his arms, pulling the blankets over them.

 

The morning room buzzed with life and noise, the excitement of the previous evening carrying them into the new day. “Well, I am thankful Mrs. Darcy was not harmed by the incident,” Cathleen remarked. “A woman with child is in a precarious situation.”

“With an estate this size,” Mrs.Williams observed,“it is imperative that the lady deliver a healthy heir. Mrs. Darcy must feel the pressure of giving Mr. Darcy a son to assume the estate.”

Anne joined the conversation. “I am sure my cousin has never conveyed such an edict to his wife.”

Mrs. Williams ignored Anne’s defense. “Mrs. Darcy must prove she is worthy of the respectability Mr. Darcy bestowed on her when she became his wife.”

“Mrs. Darcy is a gentleman’s daughter,” Anne asserted.

Evelyn Williams spit out her words: “That may be, Miss de Bourgh, but it is painfully evident that your cousin’s connections outpaced his wife’s.” She turned a deaf ear to Anne’s protest; and then she delivered a final cut. “It would seem to me, Miss de Bourgh, that you would count Mrs. Darcy’s situation as one of your blessings. If Her Ladyship had her way, you would be Mrs. Darcy and be expected to assume the position of mistress of Pemberley and be the mother of the Darcy line. It would be a daunting task for a woman of such a
delicate nature.
Maybe Mr. Darcy had it right, after all. A woman to serve Pemberley and him equally would have to understand those of a lower class.”

Anne charged, “Why do you speak so poorly of your hostess?”

Mrs. Williams smiled wryly. “That is where you are in error, Miss de Bourgh. I admire Mrs. Darcy. She is a survivor—the kind
of woman who can adapt to any situation. Mrs. Darcy could follow the drum or host a grand ball for royalty. I understand her husband’s foresight in choosing the woman. Other choices would have weakened his position and his bloodline.”

“Then your censure is for me?” Anne’s cheeks colored.

Instead of giving her an answer, Mrs. Williams turned her back on Anne, ignoring the woman she had come to dislike.

Her actions brought a deeper flush of color to Anne’s cheeks. Uncertain how to handle such a strained personal relationship, she retreated, taking her plate to another of the settings, away from the offending woman.

 

Darcy called on Lieutenant Harwood, wishing to accompany the officer to the breakfast room—not allowing the man to
surprise
Anne. “Ah, Lieutenant, I see you are ready.”

“I tend to be an early riser, Mr. Darcy.”

“Then let us be about it.” Darcy led the way through the dimly lit hallways. As no one else resided in this part of Pemberley, no need existed to light lanterns on the tables. Hearing the noise of the morning room in the distance, Darcy reluctantly contemplated the scene he had constructed to inflict upon those in attendance. He had forbidden Elizabeth from coming downstairs this morning; she had reluctantly agreed, although she had provided her opinion on how he should handle the encounter. Luckily, Georgiana was in the music room. Since his reprimand regarding her late night
sojourns,
his sister had decided early morning seclusion was comparable to nocturnal solitude.

Leading the way, Darcy immediately noted that Mrs. Williams sat apart from the others. The woman had become quite withdrawn over the past few days—a fact which did not sit well with him. Mr. Worth chose items from the morning table, while Anne sat with Miss Donnel and Lord Stafford. Anne looked quite troubled, and for a moment, Darcy wondered if Worth had betrayed his trust. Then Anne’s eyes fell on Harwood, and she paled in horror. “Robert!” she exclaimed as she rose shakily to her feet.

The lieutenant bowed chivalrously in her direction. “Miss de Bourgh, I am pleased to have found you safe.”

Darcy jumped into the fray. “Ladies and Gentlemen, might I present Lieutenant Robert Harwood, an associate of my cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam. Lieutenant, this isViscount Stafford, his cousin Miss Donnel, Mr. Worth, and…” Darcy turned to introduce Mrs. Williams, but the woman had slipped from the room.“It seems our other guest has taken her leave unexpectedly.You shall meet Mrs. Williams, as well as my wife and sister, a bit later.” Anne remained standing, although she swayed in place. “And, of course, you hold an acquaintance with my cousin.”

Anne demanded an explanation.“Why are you here?” Her eyes had not left Harwood’s face.

The man smiled—the grin of a cat that has caught the mouse. “I believe, Miss de Bourgh, we should discuss in private the reason for my sudden appearance at Pemberley.”

Again, Darcy took control of the conversation. “Anne, why do you not go and ask Lady Catherine to join us.We shall all meet in my study in, let us say, thirty minutes.”

Anne nodded weakly and skirted from the room.

“Please, Lieutenant, help yourself. Come join the viscount and me. I am sure Lord Stafford would be interested in the road conditions. He and Miss Donnel had set out to reach a seriously ill relative before being waylaid by the storm.”

“Thank you, Mr. Darcy.” Harwood moved off to fill a breakfast plate. Darcy motioned a footman to bring both coffee and tea, and then he took a seat beside Miss Donnel, leaving the one beside the viscount available for Harwood. Worth quietly seated himself on the other side of Miss Donnel.

When Harwood finally joined them, Adam Lawrence began. “Mr. Darcy seems to believe you are aware of an improvement in weather conditions. Might you enlighten us, sir? As our host has indicated, my cousin and I hoped to reach Cheshire before the demise of our relative, and Worth, here, has a law practice to which to return.”

Harwood stuffed his mouth with bacon and toast—a stalling tactic recognized by three of his table partners. “I came from Liverpool by horseback.The roads are passable but difficult. A carriage might still find it impossible. Derby—at least, this part—appears to have taken the brunt of the storm. It became more difficult the closer I came to Lambton.”

“And Pemberley was your destination?” Mr. Worth ground out in a poor attempt at civility.

Harwood should have looked embarrassed, but he boldly announced to the group, “I followed Miss de Bourgh when I realized she had left with her mother and her companion.” For a man who wished to save a lady’s reputation by an offer of marriage, Darcy noted how easily Harwood himself spread the gossip of Anne’s indiscretion. “As I entered Derby and noted the conditions, I remembered, quite unexpectedly, Miss de Bourgh’s association with Mr. Darcy. I took the chance the ladies came to him for protection.”

“I thought you were a close associate of the colonel?” Stafford asked in a seemingly innocent manner, although Darcy knew it was anything but innocent.

Harwood stammered, “I-I call the colonel my friend. Why do you ask, sir?”

“Oh, no reason.” Stafford returned to the kippers piled high on his plate. “These are delicious, Darcy.” He gestured with his fork. “I must find out from whom your cook purchases these. I would have them regularly.”

Harwood sat forward, trying to recapture the viscount’s attention. “No, sir. Really, I must insist. Do you question the legitimacy of my relationship with Colonel Fitzwilliam?”

Stafford now sported the cat-like smile.“It just seemed odd that you would
unexpectedly remember
that the de Bourghs are related to Darcy. First, the lady in question called you by your Christian name, indicating an intimate relationship exists between you. Secondly, the Fitzwilliam family is very proud of their connections. I
had known the Earl of Matlock less than a day before his association with both Darcy and the de Bourghs was made known to me. Finally, the colonel serves with Darcy as Miss Darcy’s guardian, something of which I would imagine a
friend
would be well aware. It seems more likely to me that you
expected
Miss de Bourgh to seek Mr. Darcy’s protection and his advice, and, therefore you came to Pemberley expecting to find her here.”

“I assure,Your Lordship, that you are in error,” Harwood asserted.

Stafford laughed softly, self-mockingly setting the ploy. “I may be, sir. It would not be the first time, now would it?”

“Nor the last,”Worth added good-naturedly.

The viscount nodded in agreement. “Nor the last.” He turned to Cathleen. “How do you feel about a tour of the Darcys’ conservatory, my Dear? Worth, here, tells me our hostess has teased several interesting rose varieties from the ground.”