Darcy's Temptation (25 page)

“So I heard, Sir.”The servant had an amused look.

“I am afraid Miss Donnelly will see some more changes. My father evidently raised me to oversee an estate, and it is my intention to make Darling Hall the jewel of the area.”

“Yes, Sir,” Conrad's smile became larger. “But Miss Donnelly will not be easy to please.”

“Unfortunately, neither will I.” Darcy smiled insolently with self-satisfaction.

 

“Miss Donnelly, I am not happy with how Mr. Lansing is running this estate. It is my decision, when we marry, that I shall find an appropriate replacement.”

“Frederick, I cannot release Mr. Lansing. He has been with the estate for nearly ten years; he is one of my most loyal servants.”

“If the man is incompetent, his loyalty is of little use to us,” Darcy insisted, as he seated himself behind the desk. “If you are uncomfortable with the task, I have no qualms in completing it.”

“Frederick, you are changing everything about Darling Hall. It is too much, Sir; I must protest.”

He laughed lightly. “You may protest all you wish, but as your husband, I will have the final say. Darling Hall will grow in its greatness.”

“Sir,” she started, but decided against continuing the argument. Darcy sat down to address the estate books, and Miss Donnelly went to find Mr. Lansing.

 

“You sent for me, Miss Donnelly.” Mr. Lansing joined her in the drawing room.

“Please have a seat, Mr. Lansing.” She pointed daintily to a chair across from her.

He slid into the chair.“Is there a problem, Ma'am?”

“Mr. Lansing, Mr. Donnelly is not happy with your work. He asked me to inform you after our marriage, your services will no longer be required.”

Lansing began to laugh, lightly at first and then fully engaged. “Miss Donnelly, this is absurd; you and I both know there is no Mr. Donnelly. How can Mr. Donnelly release me from my position?”

The woman stood and began to pace the floor. “Mr. Lansing, if my intended decides to replace you, I have no choice but to do as he says.”

Lansing crossed the room to stand in front of her. “Miss Donnelly, we have an
understanding.
Part of that understanding is I keep your secrets,
and
I keep my position as your steward.”

“I know what you say is true, but I must go through with the wedding.We both know the estate needs the money.What can I do?” Her eyes beseeched him.

Lansing placed her gloved hand in his. “Come, Miss Donnelly,” he said placatingly,“let us have a seat and reason out the situation.” Lansing led her to adjoining chairs. Once they were seated, he continued,“Let us summarize the situation and draw more logical conclusions.”

Miss Donnelly took on a defeated position. She began this farce on her own, but the complications made her wish for a way out. “Mr. Donnelly wants us to invite our neighbors to dinner.You know I cannot let that happen; too many people know my family for that to occur. Now, he is speaking of releasing you and other staff members. If I marry him, I become his property.”

Lansing knew he sat in the catbird seat—she would do what he said. “Let us examine the options. First, you could abandon your plan and tell
Mr. Donnelly
who he really is. Of course, I do not imagine
Mr. Donnelly
will be too happy to know you kept him from his family. His censure would, at a minimum, be carried over to other members of the
ton
, and you would lose your social standing in London and the community.”

“That is not an option I choose,” she stammered.

“You could marry your Mr. Donnelly, and then let me go. I, unfortunately, know of your deception and even have several of Mr. Darcy's personal items in my possession. I would be forced to confront you in public, and you would be back to
option one. Of course, I must assume Mr. Darcy's family would gladly reward me for my honesty.” Lansing sat back in the chair, leisurely slouching against the cushions.

His words forced Miss Donnelly to examine his expression. Incredulously, she exclaimed,“You could not?”

“I could,” he stated matter-of-factly.“A third option would be to move up the wedding date. Once you have Mr. Donnelly's name, do you really care if he leaves you? Your parents' will says
to marry;
it says nothing about heirs or living together.”

Miss Donnelly latched onto his words as a way out of her predicament. “How do I convince Mr. Donnelly to move the date? He is quite adamant about waiting.”

Lansing began to smile; he knew she would do what he suggested. “Hopefully, Madam, you will forgive my forwardness in saying the only way a man may be forced into a speedy marriage is to commit a compromising act.”

He heard her gasp.“I cannot!You cannot suggest as such!”

“By your own report,
Mr. Donnelly
has made no advances other than to kiss your ungloved hand. If you are engaged, that would not be a
compromising
situation. Even if he were to kiss you, society would look the other way.”

The color faded from Miss Donnelly's face. She swallowed hard before saying, “I am astonished you would suggest such a thing!”

“I do apologize; I overstepped my position as your adviser on estate matters. Option one is the honest thing to do.” Lansing tried to look contrite, but a smirk overtook his face.

Miss Donnelly sat quietly for several minutes; then she turned her head to stare off in space. Finally, she said, “I would need a clergyman available to immediately perform the service. I cannot let Mr. Lunsford deliver the vows; he would spread the rumor of what happened. He tells his wife every transgression he knows of his parish.”

Lansing restrained the laughter.“Do we know such a man?”

“I believe I know a person; I met him briefly in London. He has a living in Kent; his wife's father is Sir William Lucas, a man from Hertfordshire I met at the court of St. James. The cleric fawns and brags, but his services could be procured for this one time.” Miss Donnelly's resolve took place. She still spoke to the air rather than to Mr. Lansing, as if she thought out loud. “I shall write him tomorrow. I am sure he will be pleased to perform the wedding of the aristocracy.”

“Then what will you do to entice your cousin?” Lansing mocked.

She straightened her shoulders and finally looked at Lansing. “A lady would never discuss such things.” Her words held bitterness.

Lansing stood. “A
lady
would never be in a position where this conversation would occur. By your leave, Miss Donnelly,” he whispered. He overtly reached out and caressed her cheek in a mocking sign of affection before he exited.

 

Darcy sat in the drawing room with Miss Donnelly; the evening was warm for early March so a fire was not lit in the hearth. “Miss Donnelly, what do you think of Mr. Wordsworth's new volume?” Darcy asked, expecting a knowledgeable response.

“I am afraid, Sir, I have not read it.” She barely looked up from her needlework.

Darcy looked up from the book.“What have you read lately?”

“Very little—I do not like to read,” she mumbled as she concentrated on her stitchery.

“You do not like to read?” Darcy seemed shocked.

Again, she did not even raise her head. “No, Sir.”

“How can you exist in the world without literature and poetry to temper your soul?”

Elizabeth Donnelly finally looked at him seriously. “It is of little significance. I read well enough to decipher Mr. Lansing's
reports.That is all which is necessary for my existence.”

“Then I assume you play the pianoforte or draw,” he offered.

She laughed lightly. “I am afraid, Frederick, I have few talents associated with accomplished young ladies.”

Before he thought about what he said, Darcy blurted out, “My sister is quite accomplished on the pianoforte. I bought her a new one for her birthday.”

Miss Donnelly froze; her needle suspended in midair.“Your sister, Sir?” she nearly shrieked.

Darcy sat for a long time looking at her in bewilderment before he spoke.“Do I have a sister?” he whispered.

“No, Sir.” Miss Donnelly swallowed hard, not sure if his memory suddenly returned.

Darcy's hands shook.“Then why did I say that? It seemed so logical and familiar at the time.” His voice broke with a new fear.

“Possibly it is your brother's wife of whom you speak. She would be your sister in marriage.” Miss Donnelly grasped at straws.

“Of course,” he nearly stuttered. “That has to be it.” His eyes cleared once more. “Somewhere, I discussed the qualities of an accomplished woman. I vaguely remember the conversation on the edges of my memory.”

“That surely must be it,” she assured him.

 

“I received a letter confirming the arrival of the cleric for whom I sent,” Miss Donnelly told Mr. Lansing one afternoon. “He should be here by Saturday. I will press my cousin to be married as soon as I am sure of the man's arrival.”

“What will you do?” Lansing asked offhandedly.

“I shall not discuss it with you,” she told him as she closed the ledger in which she recorded expenses. “Yet, be assured I have a plan.”

 

Darcy wondered about the life upon which he was to embark at Darling Hall. At times, he seemed so self-assured—he saw
himself as the type who protected those he loved—a man who brokered for peace and serenity, a dutiful man who knew his position and his responsibility. He, obviously, knew something about running an estate, and Darling Hall could use his insights. He was a practical man—not one who sought recognition, but one who expected respect.

Although he could enjoy fine company, Darcy did not suppose he could tolerate those with false airs.Yet, as a Lord's son, he must give his dues to those of rank. As Lord Donnelly, Darcy knew he must be used to a superior wealth. Tradition and duty to family would be his mantle. He would marry Miss Donnelly, as he gave his word to her, and do the dutiful thing to create a viable estate and a home for his eventual heirs.

The suggestion of heirs brought Darcy to thoughts of Elizabeth Donnelly. Of late, he held profound concerns about the woman and his plan to marry her. Only two days ago, he forcibly removed her as she, literally, beat the household's elderly cook because the old woman spilled a bowl of sauce, which stained the rug in the breakfast room. Disciplining a servant as such made him wonder how she might treat their children, who regularly could be counted on to create similar messes. Add that to her lack of interest in the finer things in life, her obsession with cleanliness, her absolute trust in a man obviously not capable of meeting his responsibility to the estate, and her colloquial attitude, and Darcy began to consider whether his marriage to this woman would be advisable when balanced against her few attributes.

She certainly was not one most men would choose. She had no apparent talents, and Miss Donnelly had her quirks. In fact, she possessed only two redeeming qualities: a pretty face and Darling Hall. The thoughts of her in his bed offered repulsive images.
I wonder if she will take her gloves off then?
Yet, he knew men often took a mistress if the home bed did not fulfill their needs. Darcy could not imagine Elizabeth Donnelly would
much care. “She has a repugnance for anything of an intimate nature,” he once told Conrad.

What Darcy had trouble justifying was his nightly dreams. In those, he passionately romanced a different woman.Was she his fantasy to replace the “cold” Miss Donnelly? In his dreams, he took her deeply and completely, and the woman of his dreams returned his passion. She consumed him. Always the same woman, Darcy often woke feeling her breath on his neck or his heart racing from the heat of her kiss.

In addition to dreams of his “lady,” he held realities of previous conversations. Some dealt with the qualities of accomplished women, his love of literature and music, his knowledge of an estate, and a history in Hertfordshire. These were fragments of his previous life, but Darcy could not put the puzzle pieces together to form a new whole.Where did the answer lie? Part of him wanted to be the dutiful son and possibly achieve his father's forgiveness. Marrying within the family and developing Darling Hall could earn him respect and honor. Part of Darcy wanted the relationship he found only in his dreams. Elizabeth Donnelly would never bring forth any such passion. Oh, but to find such a relationship would be unheard of in fine society.

He considered leaving, trying other options, but he possessed no funds of his own. He found himself fully at Miss Donnelly's whims. In some ways, he was no better than Mr. Lansing, at least in that regard. One moment, Darcy thought marrying Miss Donnelly was the most logical thing to do; the next he wished to run madly from the estate, warning all about the “crazy” world found behind the walls of Darling Hall. Could he go through with the marriage? Neither his dreams nor his reality could answer that question.

So, each night he welcomed the dreams of the unknown woman. She sustained him during his waking hours because the woman was the one constant in his life.The daylight hours
brought him new realities, but the night brought a familiarity—a need he could not fill during the day. He saw her eyes—a pair of fine eyes—and an enigmatic smile, along with a raised eyebrow. Darcy felt the heat of her mouth on his—a love that devoured his reason. He imagined himself taking her into his arms along walkways, deserted paths, gardens, conservatories, and in his bed. She smiled at him, and he wanted her in a breathless desire. Darcy knew Elizabeth Donnelly could never meet such needs—not in a million years.