Darcy's Temptation (21 page)

“Not long, in reality,” she responded sweetly. “We are cousins, as I explained previously, although not close relatives. My parents died nearly three years ago; your older brother claimed your family's fortune, and a previous indiscretion,” she wrinkled her nose in disgust, “caused your father to disinherit you. As you have the title, and I have the estate, I am sorry to say ours is a marriage to benefit both of our situations; however, I hope we can find a mutual affection for each other.” The woman tried to entice him with her manners and her words.

“
If we marry,
” Darcy stressed the words,“I would hope for a civil relationship.” He did not offer the woman words of encouragement.

Trying to ply her womanly charms, she smiled at him. “I know this is difficult, but I hope we can continue our agreement once you regain your strength. Although ours is not a bond of love, it could be so in time. Prior to your attack, we came to an understanding of our relationship.”

Darcy sipped his tea, barely removing the cup from his lips. “You are most generous, Madam.” His words and manners took on a haughty tone. “If you have no objections, I believe I exhausted myself already. I beg your leave to retire to my chambers.”

“Of course, Frederick,” Miss Donnelly concluded. “I hope to see you again later then.”With that, the woman rose, made a proper curtsy, and promptly left the room.

Darcy looked after her. Something did not seem right, but he could not determine the source of his concern. Perhaps his recent memory loss left holes he simply needed to fill. Perhaps
the woman tried to deceive him. Either way, at the moment, he could do little but wait and see how things developed.

“Elizabeth Donnelly,” he rolled the words over in his mouth, but they did not seem to fit.

 

Conrad helped him back to his room; the effort consumed Darcy's thoughts until he once more entered his chamber. He hobbled to the dressing area. “Are these my items, Conrad?” He tried to sound nonchalant.

“Yes, Sir, Mr. Lansing brought them in when you arrived.” Conrad busied himself in turning down the freshly made bed.

Darcy picked up the handkerchief embroidered with the initials “F.D.” Could it be he was really Frederick Donnelly? The name felt foreign. He clasped the handkerchief in his hand and made his way to his bed. “Conrad, when did you first know of my being a part of this household?” Darcy used the older man's shoulder for support as he lowered himself back on to the bed.

“When Mr. Lansing brought you here.” Conrad strained under Darcy's weight.

The news did not totally shock him, but Darcy tried to hide his reaction. “I was not here prior to that time?” he said as casually as he could.

“I cannot say for sure, Sir; I was away taking care of me sister, she be ill, Sir—gone for over a month.” Conrad pulled the bedclothes up as Darcy shifted his weight to get more comfortable.

“So, I could have been here prior to the robbery?”

“Yes, Sir, you could have. Would you like for me to ask some of the other staff?” Conrad seemed concerned.

“If you could do so discreetly,” Darcy said, again trying to play down his urgency,“I would be most appreciative.”

“I will do me best, Sir.” Conrad retreated to the other side of the room.“Try and rest now, Sir.”

“Thank you, Conrad,” Darcy acknowledged the man's efforts; then he turned over in the bed and welcomed his dreams.

 

 

 

 

The woman in his dreams, obviously, held a connection to his previous life, but Darcy could not justify his feelings for the passionate, vivacious lady of his imagination and the reserved, calculating woman who served as his current benefactor.
Could these be my fantasies—my hope for a more loving relationship? Could I possess some repressed feelings for Miss Donnelly, which are playing out in my whimsy?

Darcy asked Conrad to fetch him paper and ink. He decided he would record his thoughts and questions.A journal would not be his answer; he simply needed a way to organize his musings. For example, why did he not ask Miss Donnelly if someone informed his father and brother of his injuries?
Should he not write to them if for no other reason than to allay their fears of his demise? Even an indiscretion would be
forgiven
in the face of danger. Where was his father's estate? What was the nature of his reported indiscretion? Did he have marketable skills such as law or trade or the military? Where did he attend school? The number of questions grew by leaps and bounds. Darcy would record his questions and then seek the answers.

 

“Mr. Donnelly,” Conrad spoke the name as he carried in the evening meal, “I hope you are ready for something to eat. Would you like to move to the table, Sir, or would you prefer the tray brought to the bed?”

“The table—thank you, Conrad.” Darcy laboriously pushed himself up in the bed.“I need to move, if you would be so kind as to offer me your shoulder once again.”

“Happily, Sir.”

Moving steadily toward the straight-backed chair, Darcy forced his body to react. “In case I have not said so,” he said, gritting his teeth with the effort of moving, “your continual concern for my recovery is most appreciated, Conrad.”

“You are most kind, Sir,” the servant offered. “I have something I found for you, Sir.” He helped Darcy lower himself into the chair and situate himself in front of the dinner tray.

Darcy breathed heavily with the movement. “What would that be?”

“Old Mr. Donnelly had this, Sir.” Conrad brought out a walking stick. “I asked Mr. Lansing if we might use it for you; Miss Donnelly consented; I thought it might help steady you, Sir.”

“Conrad,” Darcy began, “how may I ever repay you?” He took the stick, fingering the fine carving of its handle. “It is a magnificent accessory.”

“I am sure there are many other items from the old master, which will be of use to you when you marry Miss Donnelly.”

Darcy looked closely at the man. “So, I am intended for Miss Donnelly?”

“That is what Mr. Lansing confirms, Sir.” The man set out the food items for Darcy.

Darcy asked suspiciously,“What do the other servants say?”

“That is just it, Sir,” Conrad lowered his voice. “The others say the same thing—nearly word for word. No matter who I ask, the story is the same, and the wording is the same. No one changes even the wording of the story. Do you not think that odd, Sir?”

“Quite odd.” Darcy guarded his reaction.“What was said?” He sipped the soup.

“Everyone said you were here three weeks.You and Miss Donnelly are to marry. You went to Hull on business and were attacked when returning to the estate. Those were the words, Sir.”

“They are the same as what Miss Donnelly provided me,” Darcy mused.

Conrad tried to busy himself about the room before he responded.“I cannot tell you, Sir, how this bothers me.”

Darcy put down the soupspoon and turned to the older man. “May I ask why you addressed me as Mr. Donnelly today?”

“I have been instructed by Mr. Lansing to do so.”

“Mr. Lansing is Miss Donnelly's steward?” The statement came out as a question.

“Yes, Sir. He has been the estate's steward for three years—since old Mr. Donnelly's passing.” Conrad stoked the fire as he spoke.

“Conrad, what can you tell me about Miss Donnelly?”

“I have been with the estate for over twenty years. Miss Donnelly was six years old when I came here.The old master and his mistress were likeable people, they treated us very well. Miss Donnelly is more severe than were her parents. She is very explicit about the estate being clean.The current mistress
becomes upset if items are not cleaned several times a day. She allows Mr. Lansing free reign in running the place. It fell on hard times of late, and the mistress was forced to sell off several of the estate's items to meet expenses. Of course, Sir, you heard none of this from me.”

“I will keep your confidence,” Darcy stammered.“You gave me much upon which to reflect.” Darcy finished the meal, and, with Conrad's help and the use of the walking stick, he made several trips up and down the hallway between his chambers and the top of the staircase.

 

Now, each trip Darcy made down the hallway outside of his room, he became more aware of his surroundings—the estate's furnishings and its overall condition.“It seems to me,” he began one afternoon as he sat with Miss Donnelly in the same upstairs sitting room, “the estate is in need of some very badly needed repairs.”

“Really, Frederick, whatever can you mean?” Miss Donnelly continued her act of submissiveness.

“There are places up and down this hallway where flooring, doorframes, and window frames should be replaced.The wood has rotted. Why has your steward not addressed these issues?” Darcy's voice demanded an answer.

Miss Donnelly said simply, “I do not like the mess such repairs would create in my house.”

“Well, we will have no such foolishness once we are married. In fact, I wish you to send Mr. Lansing to me later today. We must address the repairs immediately. Please tell him to bring the account books also; we must make the estate a viable place once again.”

“Is this really necessary, Frederick?” Miss Donnelly's disdain showed.

“Of course it is necessary.You should have seen to it prior to now.This is, at least, an area in which I feel I may be of use
to you. Although I do not remember many specifics of my life prior to my attack, some things must come from instinct.”

Miss Donnelly snarled her nose with the possibilities.“I still do not see where there is such a need for immediacy.”

“I will broker no denials, Madam,” Darcy demanded. “As soon as I am able, I want to ride out across the estate to survey the land.”

“I suppose you insist on this issue also.” Sarcasm crept into her voice. “Must we deal with the tenants and the land ourselves? Mr. Lansing is quite capable of addressing these issues.”

“As your husband, I want to bring more than a title to our marriage.”

“However, I ask no more of you than that.”

“Well, I will not hear of it,” he snapped. Now that he escalated the conversation to a case of wills, Darcy quickly added without warning, “What is my title? Exactly where is my father's estate?”

Miss Donnelly flustered as Darcy settled his attention on her. “Does it matter if you have been disinherited?” she stammered.

“Certainly it matters. If all I have to bring to this marriage is my title, I must know what I may give to you and to any children we might have,” he said adamantly. “Who knows—maybe my brother will die before I do, and then everything my father has will be mine after all. It has happened in more than one family.”

“Well, your title is of little significance to me,” Miss Donnelly cooed.

Darcy quipped, “Madam, I appreciate your generosity, but I insist on knowing of what we speak. If I have no title to give you, you would be better off seeking another. I would gladly release you from your commitment to me in such a case.”

“Frederick, I do not wish to be released from our engagement.” Her mind raced, trying to come up with a logical solution. She tried to think of an area greatly displaced from
her own home. “Your father's estate is in Hertfordshire.” In reality, Miss Donnelly knew little about Hertfordshire; she only knew it to be far removed from Darling Hall. “Your father is a Lord, my dear.” Her speech became sugary.

The word “Hertfordshire” shot through Darcy, forcing a sense of familiarity. “Hertfordshire, is it? I wish I could remember something of it.”

“Do not let it trouble you, Frederick; we never have to face your father again. We will concentrate our efforts on Darling Hall.” Miss Donnelly shifted her weight to take a prominent position once again. She rose to take her leave, and Darcy forced himself to his feet also. “I will bid you adieu, Sir, until later.” She made him a curtsy.

Darcy extemporaneously took her gloved hand and brought it to his lips. He kissed it lightly. “Do you always wear gloves, Madam?” He tried to analyze her words by looking deep in her eyes.

Feigning demure feelings, she dropped her gaze. “I am afraid my mother demanded I do so. I was never able to break the habit.”

“Obviously, I would prefer to take your hand,” Darcy weighed his words. “Next time, please do not wear them.” His voice held intimate promises.

Miss Donnelly flushed with color. “Frederick, I will try.” Flustered, she quickly left the room.