Goodly Creatures: A Pride and Prejudice Deviation (28 page)

Marriage to Eleanor was supposed to have improved his circumstances, and financially it had. But instead of the freedom to do as he pleased, he felt the weight of increased expectations—especially from his parents. The Earl continually pointed to his cousin’s two children while reminding Edmund he had not produced even one.

Twice he had spent time with his wife and made her with child, but both times she lost the baby. This possibility had not been imagined before they married. He wondered whether her inability to produce his heir was grounds for divorce—and if so could he keep her money?

The first time she had lost the baby, Richard had arrived to comfort her. The second time he had been in Spain but had defied propriety and sent her a beautiful black lace mantilla. He wondered whether they had ever indulged their affections. Maybe his brother could perform his obligations, leaving him free to pursue his own inclinations. The difficulty was that he would need to be present at a certain time in order to qualify as the father.

Darcy had been quite successful with persuading society to believe Edmund’s bastard was his legitimate daughter. The deception had been reinforced when Anne had given him a second child… and a male child at that. It was unfortunate she had died giving birth, but he had to envy his cousin. He had two healthy children and no wife. He was free to indulge in any interesting diversion with a minimum of gossip.

If he arranged a situation where he, Richard and Eleanor were all within close proximity of each other, maybe they could carry off a similar deception. But he would not want there to be any hint of his not being the father, because he did not want to be thought a cuckold. On the other hand, an exposed affair could be a reason for divorce, and the fifty thousand pounds would definitely stay with him. Then he would be free to pursue some other young… yes, very young woman with a large dowry.

Lord Wolfbridge made his way across the room to speak to Lord Cleveland. The debutante with him—probably his sister and the reason for the ball—had hair the colour of Miss Elizabeth’s, but she was much taller and plumper, not to mention, older than she had been. The resemblance made him wonder where the cheeky chit was and what had happened to her. The fertile bitch had probably grown fat bearing the children of some country squire. Did he notice he was not the first or was the money she brought to the marriage enough to make him not care? He chuckled at the image of her wedding night. She had said she had four sisters. Now that could be an interesting bit of sport… to see if he could capture all five.

Lord Wolfbridge saw Darcy clinging to the sides of the dance floor. His cousin seemed very uncomfortable, but enormously popular. Knowing Darcy, that was probably the reason for his discomfort. It was true, the chatter was about his wealth, his beautiful estate with occasionally his looks thrown in for ballast. He was with an amiable, fair-haired young man whose job it seemed to be to goad his cousin into minimal social interaction.

They also seemed to be accompanied by a young woman, who definitely wanted the room to think she was favoured by Darcy. She had sought him out where he hovered around the fringes and had insinuated her arm in his. She seemed to be trying to win his approval through a running repartee. He wondered what her subject matter was. If it wasn’t books, art or orchids he was certain she had no chance. Based on the pained look on his cousin’s face, she was probably evaluating the participants as to clothes and appearance. She was not unattractive, but Edmund really questioned her style. Everything she wore was of the finest quality, but there was too much… lace, feathers, beads… she was a perfect example of gilding the lily.

Lord Wolfbridge saw Darcy and his friend from the previous night playing with some children. The young man seemed to be engaging in swordplay with both of the little ones. He was wearing a tricorn hat and an eye patch. The two children had colourful handkerchiefs tied around their heads. Obviously they were pirates. When they removed their disguises, he saw the girl had beautiful curls that blazed in the sun. He realized he was looking at his daughter, and from this distance she looked like her mother. He wondered what her eyes were like—did they sparkle with mischievous merriment? He decided the time had come to take a closer look at what he had spawned.

“Hello, Darce. I saw you the other night at Lord Cleveland’s ball. You did not seem to be enjoying yourself.”

Darcy glanced quickly at his daughter in apprehension before he spoke. “No, I was not, but I am making an effort this Season to be sociable among the
ton.
I need to be open, for my children’s sake, to the possibility of remarrying. My friend here is giving me moral support and advice in my pursuit. Charles Bingley, may I present my cousin, Lord Wolfbridge.”

His daughter joined the group of men, looked at Lord Wolfbridge and said, “You look like my Papa.” She screwed up her face and peered fixedly at him.

He looked back at her just as intently. Her eyes were like her mother’s. They were green with those unique flecks of gold and gleamed with the same intelligence. She seemed larger than he would have thought her mother to have been at three. Perhaps she would have his height. He said to the little girl who continued to stare unabashedly at him, “I am his cousin. My wife, Lady Wolfbridge is your godmother.”

For the first time, Bethany smiled. “She is nice… so is Cousin Richard. They give me presents.” Once again she looked quizzically at him. “Are you Cousin Edmund?”

“Yes, we have met. I was at your baptism and your second Christmas.”

“Hmmm… I don’t member. Was that when I got my dog, Bottom? He is back at Pemberley. I wish he was here… he would be a good pirate.” For the first time, she gave him a rather lukewarm smile, but it seemed to be for the recollection of the dog and not him. Darcy was watching the exchange with something apprehension on his face. She looked down with a much broader smile at the little boy who was tugging on her hand. “This is my brother, Lewis. He does not talk good. We have to go.” She curtsied, and she and her brother ran off to continue their make-believe.

Edmund had become bored with the Season. He gave in to his mother’s demands and returned to Elderton. He had gone to Eleanor most nights; and after six months, she was again exhibiting signs of being with child. She seemed to conceive quite easily, but was unable to carry it through to birth. His mother told him with reproach that she thought sadness contributed to Eleanor’s miscarrying. He remembered his mother had lost several babies—she had the curious notion that delivering a female child would have raised her own spirits. Miss Elizabeth’s body had not rejected his bastard… maybe she had not remained distraught the way Darcy had described her. He preferred to remember her cowering in fear, but it might be possible her unhappiness had, indeed, quickly been replaced by pleasure as she seized the opportunity to demand money.

Lord Wolfbridge was anxious to be out and about. Once he knew Eleanor was definitely with child, he would remove himself and find some excitement. Wickham would make a fine companion to go in search of some sport among the lower classes. Maybe they should seek out Miss Elizabeth’s sisters.

While he waited, he was spending his time doing something quite radical for him… he was reading. A friend at White’s had recommended two books, he thought Lord Wolfbridge would enjoy. They were the Marquis de Sade’s
Justine
and
Juliette.
He was gaining a wealth of ideas to put into play when next he found a frightened little girl with whom to indulge.

22 THERE IS NO PLACE LIKE HOME

Elizabeth Bennet leaned her head against the window of the Gardiner’s carriage. Davy and Marianne were dozing and her thoughts were free to think of home. It would be wonderful to be back in Hertfordshire, but she fretted over the difficulty of keeping everything that had happened in the past year a secret.

Elizabeth was arriving just before Christmas, and she knew her youngest sisters, Kitty and Lydia, would claim most of her attention by clamouring to know what presents were waiting to be unpacked in the trunks that had preceded her home. Before she left Derbyshire, Mrs Wilder had helped her choose bonnets for all her sisters and her mother from Mr Davies’ store. In addition, there was an assortment of ribbons, new kidskin gloves for each and some very fine Irish linen handkerchiefs. She had spent the last month of her confinement embroidering them—forget-me-nots for Jane, lilies for Mary, violets for Kitty, daffodils for Lydia and roses for her mother.

She thought about the two knives one in her reticule and the other in her box. She wished she could have brought a knife home for each of her sisters, but she knew not how she could have encouraged them to carry a weapon without disclosing her dishonour.

The Hintons, Jamie, Mrs Wilder, and even Mr Davies had contributed to a collection of presents and supplies for her trip home. Mr Davies had found a beautiful wooden travelling box and Mr Hinton had inlaid iron scrollwork into the top and fashioned a lock and key. The design for both the fastening and the scrollwork was a heart and Elizabeth had gotten tears in her eyes when she first observed their joint gift and its contents.

Bronwyn had contributed a supply of madeleines to eat during the trip. Bronwyn had also made her a sage tea to stop the flow of milk, and included strips of cloth she could use to wrap her breasts in the interim. Grif and Ang had included one of the bandalores with a note decorated with hearts telling her they would share the other one. Jamie had included sheet music for John Gay’s
A Beggar’s Opera
and a tin whistle; but the gift that caused her to become most emotional was a beautiful silver Celtic cross from Mrs Wilder to replace her amber one.

Now in the last leg of her journey home, her thoughts drifted to Mr and Mrs Darcy. She was pleased she had gotten a promise from Mrs Darcy to confess her role that day at Darcy House. If he at least knew she had been trapped, perhaps he would not think her merely mercenary. It was probably too much to hope he would recognize her right for revenge, but at least he might not ever stoop to judge his daughter by her actions.

The conversation she had with Anne made her believe she had truly wanted forgiveness, and she had given it freely once Anne had promised to confess. More than anything she hoped her baby would be happy, loved and well cared for.

Elizabeth recalled the other thing she had learned during that discussion with Mrs Darcy. Lord Wolfbridge had, indeed, married Eleanor Harding. The surge of guilt she had felt at the time came back full force. She realized her pursuit of revenge had been at the expense of this woman’s happiness. She and her uncle should have communicated how despicable the Viscount was. Anne had agreed to confess her sins; but how would Elizabeth ever atone for hers.

She needed to put thoughts of the Darcys behind her. Being cooped up for the last several days had given her too much time to remember him in particular… his dimples when she made him laugh, his perplexed look as she lay on the floor in her bare feet quoting Shakespeare and the stolen glances he thought she had not observed when they were alone reading.

Elizabeth smiled broadly at her next thought. Hopefully, she would never see or hear from Mr and Mrs Darcy again; but she eagerly anticipated hearing from the rest of her friends in Derbyshire. They had all promised to write. Mrs Wilder would include letters from Jamie so her parents would not question the propriety of corresponding with a man. Bronwyn and Mrs Reynolds had also agreed to write, although Mrs Reynolds would correspond through her uncle, so no association with Pemberley was perceived. Elizabeth had encouraged all to come to Hertfordshire to visit her. Jamie might be an excellent match for Jane. A chuckle escaped her as she realized how much like her mother she was. Lizzy smiled with the knowledge that in less than an hour she would be back in her sisters’ and parents’ loving arms again.

Her uncle had informed her upon her arrival in London that the Darcy’s twenty thousand pounds had been received, but the three thousand from Lord Wolfbridge had yet to arrive. Believing she had enough to take care of her mother and increase her sisters’ dowries when the time came, Lizzy asked Mr Gardiner not to pursue the remaining funds. Her desire was to put her ordeal behind her and focus on her family and the future.