Mr. Darcy's Indiscretions Read online

  “You have?” Elizabeth furrowed her brow. “Oddly, he has not told me any of it.”

  “I don’t see why Fitzwilliam can’t let it be,” said Georgiana. “It is not as if I would be in any danger if I did not marry. I have enough money to see to myself, even if something were to happen to him. I don’t need a husband.”

  “Well, perhaps not—”

  “Furthermore, I do not want a husband,” said Georgiana. “At one point in my life, I was nearly married. I don’t know if you have heard of this?”

  “Er…” Elizabeth did not know what to say. Georgiana must be speaking of the incident involving Mr. Wickham. It was a shameful secret, and Elizabeth thought it best not to let on that Darcy had told her of it.

  “There was a man that always been around when I was growing up. His name was Mr. Wickham,” said Georgiana, “and he was always nice to me. He was nice to everybody, really. He smiled a lot and he made everyone laugh, even me, and it’s not always easy to make me laugh. And he had this idea that we should get married. I told him I didn’t want to, but he said that of course I did, and he somehow got me off to the town of Ramsgate. But luckily, my brother arrived in just the nick of time, and I told him that Mr. Wickham was trying to get me to marry him, even though I didn’t want to. Fitzwilliam stopped it all then. He made Wickham go away, and I have not had to deal with him since, which has been quite the relief.”

  “I see,” said Elizabeth softly.

  “I am quite happy the way that I am. If I am unable to talk to these men while I am dancing, how will I manage to live under the same roof as one of them? It will be dreadful, having to move in with a stranger. I don’t want it. I won’t get married. I simply won’t.”

  Elizabeth gave Georgiana a shrewd look. “I think that you know yourself rather well, Miss Darcy.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Fieldstone.”

  “I shall tell your brother you will not be attending the ball tonight.”

  * * *

  “What do you mean she isn’t going?” said Darcy. “Weren’t you able to convince her?”

  “In truth, I did not really try,” said Elizabeth. “She had made her mind up about it, and she seemed very rational about the entire idea. It was wholly unlike my younger sisters’ tantrums years ago. Your sister is rather in possession of herself. She knows what she is about.”

  “She thinks she knows what she wants, but she is being ridiculous,” said Darcy.

  “Why didn’t you tell me that Miss Darcy does not wish to marry?” said Elizabeth.

  “Because she is only saying that out of fear. She is very shy, and she only thinks that she does not want to marry. But once she was settled, she would adjust to it all very well, and she would have no problems.”

  “I don’t know about that, Mr. Darcy,” she said.

  He squared his shoulders. “What are you saying?”

  “Well, she has some good points. She doesn’t need to marry, because she can take care of herself. She has the means to do so.”

  “The financial means, but not the capability. She has been very sheltered. She knows nothing of the evils of the world.”

  “So, you would foist her on some man she hardly knows?”

  “No, not foist. I would have her form a bond with a good man,” said Darcy. “Someone who will look after her properly. That is a husband’s job after all.”

  “So, you resent being forced to look after your sister, and wish someone else would do the job?”

  “No! Goodness, no. Of course not. I adore my sister. Why would you say such a thing?”

  “I think that I am just trying to understand,” said Elizabeth. “I don’t know what it is that is making you want the marriage so much.”

  “It’s what I’m supposed to do. As her brother and guardian, I am to find her a proper husband and ensure she is happily married. It’s important.”

  “Yes, but your sister… well, maybe she is not cut from the right cloth to be a wife.”

  “Don’t say that!”

  “Well, she says it herself. She likes to play piano. She likes it more than anything, and it is all she likes. She wants to devote her life to the study of music. She does not have room for a husband or children. She doesn’t want the distractions.”

  “Well, she can’t devote herself to music,” said Darcy. “Because she is a woman of gentle birth, and she must marry someone and provide him with heirs.”

  “But why?” said Elizabeth.

  “Because that is the way things are done.”

  She gave him a look.

  He sighed. “Because I worry about her. I want her nicely settled, so that if something happened to me, I would know she had someone.”

  “But Mr. Darcy, could she not stay with you? Or could she not retire to one of your country estates and be there, undisturbed and happy? You could visit when you wished, and she would no longer be miserable.”

  “Oh, she is not miserable,” said Mr. Darcy.

  “Listen, I do not mean to say things that are out of turn or not my place,” said Elizabeth. “But there is something about your sister. She is… different.”

  Darcy looked down at his feet.

  “I don’t know that she thinks about things the same way as the rest of us.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Just that…” Elizabeth wrung out her hands. “Oh, don’t you think it odd that no one has been offering for her hand all this time? She is so wealthy and there should be men lined up to try to marry her. But they don’t even offer.”

  “Well, that’s only because…”

  “Because she is different,” said Elizabeth.

  “No, I can’t accept that,” said Darcy. “She could do just fine for herself. She’s only shy. If you would help her, Miss Bennet, I think it would make all the difference.”

  “Me? What? Why?”

  “Because you are lively and witty and a joy to dance with,” said Darcy. “She needs you to teach her how to converse with men. Once she can do that, it will all work out.”

  “I don’t think so,” said Elizabeth. “I’m sorry, but I don’t.”

  “Well, would you at least try?” said Darcy. “We shall all retire to the country, to one of the estates I own. And then you shall tutor Georgiana in how to find a husband.”

  “But Mr. Darcy, I do not know how to find a husband.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because I haven’t got a husband.”

  He waved that away. “You easily could have had one. You just denied all the proposals you received.”

  She looked away, feeling stung.

  “I didn’t mean…” He took her hand. His voice dropped in pitch. “You know, Miss Bennet, if things were different…”

  Don’t say it, she thought. Don’t say it.

  But he didn’t say anything else, and the unfinished sentence simply hung in the air between them.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  “Well, I don’t know how long it will be,” said Elizabeth, looking down into her empty tea cup. She was sitting in the parlor with her sister Jane. She had finished her tea a long time ago, in fact. It was late, and her younger sisters were already in bed. She and Jane were up late together, talking. “A few weeks perhaps, or even a month. However long it will take me to convince Mr. Darcy that his sister is hopeless and cannot learn to flirt.”

  “That is what he wants you to do? To teach her to flirt?” Jane laughed. “You, Lizzy, are hardly a flirt. You have too sharp a tongue in your head. Mr. Darcy ought to employ Kitty instead, although she may be a bit rusty.”

  Elizabeth couldn’t help but flinch.

  “Oh, I didn’t mean to employ her in that way,” said Jane hastily.

  “No, I know that,” said Elizabeth, shaking it away. “I am sorry. I don’t know why it bothered me to hear you say that. It should not have.” Mr. Darcy would never do that, in any case. He had not wanted to employ Elizabeth, let alone one of her younger sisters. “And anyway, you are right. I
am not the woman for the job. Indeed, I am convinced that Mr. Darcy is forcing something on his sister that she does not desire.”

  “Oh, but every woman wishes for a husband,” said Jane. “Why, if any of us had one—”

  “Yes, a husband would be a balm for the family,” said Elizabeth. “But that is only because of the fact that we have such financial issues. If that was not a problem, we would not need anything. In fact, if you would only accept the money that I am offering, between my money and Lydia’s, we could get on much better, and then we would not need to worry about anyone getting married.”

  “No, our situation is nothing like Miss Darcy’s,” said Jane. “I will grant you the fact that she may not be in need of a husband in the same way that one of us might benefit, but our family is in dire need of respectability.”

  “Oh, Jane, we have no respectability.”

  Jane laughed a little. “Well, I don’t know what to say anyway. I had an offer of marriage myself, and I did not jump on it.”

  “An offer of marriage? From whom?”

  “From Mr. Bingley and recently too.”

  “What? Why have I been here all afternoon and heard nothing of this? Not even from Kitty? I can’t believe she would conceal such a thing.”

  “I asked Kitty and Mary not to say anything. They only obliged me because I promised that I should do their chores for them on the morrow.”

  “So, you were not going to tell me?” Elizabeth shook her head.

  “I was, in my own time. I have found it so confusing, I must say. He appeared out of nowhere, and he proposed almost straightaway. I did not know what to do.”

  “I don’t understand how Mr. Bingley even knew how to find you.”

  “I understand that he begged our address from Mr. Darcy. He knows of you and of Lydia now, as well, because I told him. He promised to keep all of that to himself, however.”

  “And yet he still proposed?”

  “He did.”

  “Why did you not accept him?”

  “I…” Jane took a deep breath. “Well, there is the fact that he disappeared on me all those years ago, and without a word at that. How could I trust him?”

  “That is true,” said Elizabeth carefully. “He came to find you, though, and was still interested in your hand after all this time, and after all that he knows. That is important.”

  “Yes, and he has been coming back, calling on me nearly every day. I find myself looking forward to seeing him.”

  “You do still love him, don’t you, Jane?” Elizabeth searched her sister’s face, looking for the truth.

  Jane looked away, but there was a helpless expression on her face that gave everything away.

  “And yet you have not told him that you will marry him?”

  “Well, he has not renewed his proposal.”

  “And if he does?”

  “Oh, Lizzy, let me be.” Jane gave her an exasperated look, but there was a smile behind it. “I shall not throw everything away for pride. You know me better than that.”

  * * *

  Mr. Darcy’s estate in Litwithshire was not as large as Pemberley, although it did have extensive grounds and farmland that paid the Darcy estate as their landlord. Elizabeth had never seen Pemberley, but she was told this by Meggy, who had it from the other servants in the house. Meggy was awed by the surroundings. She had grown up in London and had never been to the country. She had never seen a country estate. It was her first time working as a lady’s maid, and that was largely because it was more difficult to find experienced maids willing to work for a man’s mistress.

  Meggy was a sweet girl, though, and Elizabeth was quite fond of her.

  The trip to Litwithshire had taken the entire day. They had left early and not arrived until long after nightfall, in time only to fall into bed. There hadn’t been much time to explore the house then, and Elizabeth had been exhausted.

  Meggy, on the other hand, was younger and more curious and gave Elizabeth tales of the place the next morning as she helped Elizabeth dress and put her hair up for breakfast. Unlike her own little house in London, where she and Mr. Darcy could be informal together at breakfast, actual clothing would be required here.

  “It’s huge, miss,” said Meggy, running a brush through Elizabeth’s hair. “I’ve never been inside a house so big. Rooms and rooms and more rooms. And the servants’ quarters are enormous. There are so many people who work here, even though no one lives here besides them.”

  “Well, the estate has to keep running,” said Elizabeth. “Because the master of the house could come home at any time.”

  “Yes,” said Meggy. “And the entire staff is in a tizzy, because Mr. Darcy is so particular. The last time he was here, he had his wife with him, and she was pregnant, and everyone did something that didn’t please him. He strode about the place yelling at everyone.”

  That reminded Elizabeth of the Mr. Darcy she’d met all those years ago in Hertfordshire. Formidable and in a bad temper. She wondered if he had changed in the interim, or if he simply was different around people he knew better. Even though he was not nearly as socially inept as his sister, he was not exactly what she might term good with people.

  “Everyone is frightened that he will start yelling again. They are all trying to make sure everything is precisely to his liking. Every other servant I’ve met is nervous and worried. I can’t understand it myself. Mr. Darcy is always so relaxed and happy when I see him. I can hardly imagine him yelling.”

  Elizabeth considered. “Truthfully, I don’t know that I can either. I have seen him displeased, but he is not much for raising his voice. His anger is usually quiet. He must had been in bad spirits indeed to yell.”

  “Well, I suppose that he is relaxed with you because a man is usually relaxed with his mistress. That is what mistresses are for, or so I hear.”

  “Oh, Meggy, do be careful with that bit of knowledge. You know that Mr. Darcy wishes his sister to be kept from knowing who I truly am.”

  “Don’t worry,” said Meggy. “I haven’t breathed a word of it. I call you Mrs. Fieldstone to everyone. There is nothing to fear on that score.”

  “Good,” said Elizabeth.

  “How long will we be here, miss?”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “I really don’t know, Meggy.” She sighed. “I just don’t know.”

  * * *

  No one was at breakfast when Elizabeth arrived in the dining room, but the breakfast spread that had been set out contained a vast assortment of cakes and breads in addition to eggs and ham. It was extensive. She supposed that the staff was trying as hard as possible to please Mr. Darcy.

  She ate alone and then, with nothing else to do, went looking around the house. There were two wings that were closed off. Apparently, no one went down them anymore, and they would only be opened up for guests. Elizabeth left them alone, and went to explore the rest of the house. She went up and down the open wing in the house, avoiding the rooms where she knew that Mr. Darcy and Georgiana were staying out of fear that they were still abed. She did not want to disturb them. She peered in on the other grand bedrooms and on two ornate sitting rooms. There was also a small library. She termed it small, because it was about the size of the library in Longbourn. She was pleased to have found it, and thought she might pass the morning away reading, but the moment she stepped inside, she heard the sound of the piano wafting down the hallway.

  Ah, that would be Georgiana, then. She must be in the sitting room at the end of the wing. That was where the piano was set up, after all.

  Well, Elizabeth’s task, as pointless as it might be, was to teach Georgiana to flirt—well, to converse. Perhaps she ought to attempt to fulfill her task. Besides, she could be wrong about Georgiana. Her brother no doubt knew his sister better than Elizabeth would. If Mr. Darcy thought it only shyness, perhaps he was right. Elizabeth should attempt to draw the girl out of her shell.

  Elizabeth left the library and went to find Georgiana.

  But repe
ated attempts to get the girl away from the piano were not successful. Georgiana would not be moved from her spot. She informed Elizabeth that she always spent the morning playing, and that she didn’t think she could bear a change in her schedule, especially since it had been disrupted by travel the day before. She was already missing the instrument and needed hours to become reacquainted.

  Elizabeth suggested that they spend some time together that afternoon, and Georgiana did not outright deny her, so Elizabeth took that as progress.

  She started to go back to the library, but then she caught sight of Mr. Darcy going into one of the closed wings.

  Elizabeth was seized by the urge to follow him for some reason. She tried to talk herself out of it, to entice herself back to the library and her books, but she found herself darting into the wing after Mr. Darcy anyway.

  Inside the closed wing, it was gloomy. The windows at the end of the hallway had the curtains drawn tight against the sun, and there was dust pooling in the corners and gathered atop the portraits on the wall.

  All of the doors on the wing were closed except one. Elizabeth assumed that was the one where Mr. Darcy had gone. She tiptoed down the hallway and peered inside the open door.

  Mr. Darcy’s back was to her. He was staring at the bed, which was only a frame. It did not even contain a mattress. The rest of the furniture in the room had been covered with sheets. Mr. Darcy was bowed over the bed, gripping the foot of it, and his shoulders were shaking.

  Elizabeth backed away, out of the room, and she fled down the hallway.

  She couldn’t be sure, of course, but she had an idea that the room was the one where Anne Darcy had labored to bring her baby into the world, and where she had… had died.

  Dear Lord, why had Darcy brought them here of all places?

  * * *

  Later, Elizabeth spoke to Meggy about it, who confirmed that it was so. This was the house where Mrs. Darcy had passed from this world. It was another reason why the servants were so worried about their behavior. Apparently, much of Mr. Darcy’s yelling had occurred after the death of his wife, when nothing pleased him at all.