The Road to Pemberley (29 page)

His mother shuddered. “America! I would be loath to be related to an American. Yes. I see.
That
would be much worse than a farmer's daughter.”

Kitty gaped at the bundle on the bed she knew to be her sister. When had Lizzy taken so ill? She had never seen her sibling thus.

Kitty stole to the edge of the bed and grasped Elizabeth's hand. She was shocked by how sweaty it was. She looked from Lizzy, covered in many blankets, to the blazing flames in the fireplace. No one would be comfortable in such a hot room. Surely, Elizabeth would feel better if the windows were cracked and the fire doused.

At the touch, her ailing sister's eyes fluttered open.

“I did not know you were this bad,” Kitty whispered.

“How long have I been abed?” Elizabeth's voice held nothing of her normal liveliness.

“Two days. Mr. Darcy is worried. He paces your hallway like a lion, and will not come down to eat with us, because he says he must stay near you. He is just outside the door now, giving Dr. Wendington a comb over about your care.”

Kitty was ashamed to admit that her sister's illness had afforded her many happy hours in Lord Chalmer's company. The man had such a way with words! He was always whispering “pretty Kitty” to
her, and often sitting closer than proper. He was so attentive and everything she had dreamed of in a man.

They had been on three walks in the garden and played a round of cards both nights together. When no one was listening, he would lean over and say that he couldn't leave Pemberley without an understanding.

An understanding!

This very morning after breakfast, he had asked how soon he could call her Lady Chalmer.

Ever since her eldest sisters' weddings, Kitty had promised herself she would marry well, but she had never imagined she would marry a man of title. Her sisters would finally have cause to be jealous of her! She might have had to wait the longest for a match, but hers would be the best of all.

Her thoughts returned to Elizabeth, lying in the bed before her, a wisp of a breath passing through her mouth. “Mr. Darcy will not tell me what the matter is, Lizzy; will you?” Kitty knelt beside her sister, still holding her hand.

Lizzy licked her cracked lips. “The doctor says it is infection, but the fever is too much, Kitty. Please put a cold rag on my forehead. I cannot bear this.”

Kitty did as Mrs. Darcy asked, bathing her sister's face and arms in cool water until she fell back to sleep.

Conrad Denton prided himself on the fact that he had done much in his life alone. His late father had often been violent and inebriated, and Conrad's pretty young mother had died so young. His elder brother, Henry, cared not for the rest of the family. Conrad had spent much of his youth keeping his only sister, Phoebe, safe
and comforted. Upon their father's death, Henry had inherited the family fortune and forsaken his responsibility to care for his younger siblings. Conrad had taken Phoebe under his protection until her marriage three years ago. He dearly missed her companionship, but it gave him pleasure to see his sister finally cherished and cared for by a man other than himself—something his elder brother and father had never done.

All of that had been training for Conrad's adult life as a clergyman, or so he figured. He could spend his years caring for the downtrodden in his community, and all with the help of his benefactor, Mr. Darcy. He could come home to his residence and glebe, Graceacre, and recharge…alone. Denton was simply happy to have a roof over his head and food on the table, with no fear of a brother belittling him, a father hitting him, or a sister sobbing to haunt him.

Alone was the only safe way to exist.

But suddenly the thought of living life alone didn't seem so appealing to him anymore.

He knew it was downright bacon-brained of him, but he couldn't deny that he was in love with Kitty Bennet. But admitting that to himself would have to be enough.

What right did a clergyman have to cherish the relation of his employer? No, Miss Bennet was too far out of Conrad's reach to even consider—but surely, he could enjoy her company.

As she walked beside him, her stride matching his, he watched—out of the corner of his eye—the woman who was consuming his thoughts. He memorized her face, from the slight upturn of her nose to the velvety flush of her plump cheeks to the bounce of her delicious chocolate curls. She was a diamond of the first water, of that there was no doubt, but more than that, the woman was a perfect mixture of fire, laughter, and frankness.

“Miss Bennet, I see you were unable to persuade Lord Chalmer to join us.” He spoke not because he cared a fig for Lord Chalmer's company, but simply to talk.

“Yes. I tried, but he said that he could not stand to go anywhere near those people who live in rat's nests. His words, not mine. I attempted to explain to him that helping them, doing something, is good for one's soul, but he would not hear of it.”

“I am pained to hear it.” Really, Denton was not; he was glad to have Kitty's company without prissy Chalmer along.

As the pair traveled round the trees, Conrad held his breath. He had offered to show Miss Bennet his home, Graceacre, and she had enthusiastically accepted the invitation. Denton found himself jittery about Kitty taking in her first view of it. What if she was disappointed and did not like it? He would feel less than a man.

When his two-story stone home became visible, Kitty gasped.

“This is your home? This is Graceacre, the parish of Pemberley?” Her eyes were like saucers, and they grew wider and wider as she gazed over the land that made up the glebe and the house.

Her overt pleasure elicited a comfortable laugh from his lips. “Well, most would call it the Lambton Parish, but you would be right in saying we have very close ties to Pemberley.”

“Mr. Denton, I have loved this home from the first moment I saw it, which was the day you rescued me!”

“Are you in earnest?” He beamed, delighted.

“Certainly! I saw this home and it stood out from the rest and looked so genteel, so like my papa's Longbourn, although I believe you have taken better care of your land than Papa ever has.”

“Allow me to show you the inside and see if you are just as enchanted with it.” He offered her his arm.

Kitty bit her lip and seemed to hesitate.

“We will not be unchaperoned. I keep two servants, and my housekeeper, Mrs. Sawford, is at this hour within.”

“My lord,” Lark said and bowed to Albert. “There is a man waiting in the parlor. He will not give his reason for being here, and refuses to leave until he has spoken to you.”

Albert ran a finger around his collar, which suddenly felt constricting. His heart began to beat a death march within his chest and his hands felt clammy.

The creditors could not have found him so quickly, he assured himself. He had not sent any correspondence from Pemberley, on the off chance that his mail was being monitored by a postmaster, either in London or near Eddenwall. And besides his mother, only the two servants left at Eddenwall knew where he was. Albert gulped. What if he had been foolish to trust them?

Lark addressed him again: “I fear you will have to see the man, my lord.”

Chalmer straightened his cravat. “Of course. Lead me to him, Lark.”

But what would he do if it was a creditor—jump out a window and run away? Or, worse yet, what if it was a constable, there to take him to debtors prison?

Lark opened the door, and at the sight of Eddenwall's long-time steward, Bates, Albert experienced a tide of relief so overwhelming that it almost brought him to his knees. The servant had served his father faithfully for almost his entire life; the man knew nothing but Eddenwall and Chalmer.

After Lark left the room, Albert smiled at the humble man before him. “It is good to see you, Bates. What news from Eddenwall?”

Bates, a small, balding man, bowed before his master. “Eddenwall is as beautiful as ever, but the joy is gone without you and the lady there. We are preparing it for the renters, who mean to move in at the start of next week.”

“Good, good. But why in the blazes did you come all this way, Bates? Do you know how dangerous it is? For all we know, you've been followed, and now my creditors know where to find me.”

“I had to take the risk, Lord Chalmer.” Bates twisted his dusty hat in his hands. “It is regarding the creditors.”

“Speak on,” Albert commanded.

“There are more than six of them camped out near your property. They come to the house every day, and more letters come daily, too. Sir, they are saying that if the debts aren't paid in full, then the deed to Eddenwall will have to be forfeited—and you will be taken to debtors jail for the interest and for the funds that the sale of Eddenwall might not cover. Moreover, my lord, they are saying that payments need to be made, in full, within the fortnight, or else all of this will happen.”

Albert began to pace the room, his hand raking through his hair. “Are you certain, Bates? This is worse than I thought. The renters will be thrown out of Eddenwall, and my story will be made known to all. A fortnight to pay all—are you sure?”

“Quite sure, my lord. They brought signed documents and showed them to me.”

“This is a blasted business! They will take my very life away from me. I curse the day my father died and left me that infernal entail! Oh, don't look so shocked, Bates. You've done well, man. Return to Eddenwall, and I will do what I can to make certain that none of these things come about.”

After Bates left, Albert spent an hour in a chair, with his head in his hands, thinking. Only one solution came to him. He had run out
of eggs in his basket. Truly, his only hope now was marrying Kitty Bennet as quickly as possible. In fact, it would have to be by the end of the week if he was to have time to convince Darcy to pay off all his debts and save Eddenwall. There wasn't time to start afresh with a new girl. It was Kitty Bennet or jail for him.

It shouldn't be too difficult. The girl was in obvious awe of him and his title, and his mother had promised to make herself scarce to afford them hours alone together.

Albert rose from the chair and picked up the decanter that rested on the sideboard. He needed a distraction, something to bolster his mood. He shook the bottle, watching the amber liquid swirl. He uncorked the container, poured a glass, and swallowed the liquor in one gulp, his lips curling as it burned his throat. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he decided that one was enough.

A pity there weren't any gaming tables or race tracks near Pemberley to take his mind off his troubles, if only for a few hours. But there were other ways for a man to divert himself. Surely, there was a pretty little maid within the estate who wouldn't mind entertaining a lord's fancies.