The Trouble with Mr. Darcy (38 page)

It was a morning greeting of the highest order. All concerns flew away, the only care being of that moment and pleasuring each other. Senses ruled and the only sounds were of the elation they acquired in this unique interlude of joining.

The sun was well over the horizon, rays of illumination and warmth reaching above the surrounding London rooftops to touch the garden behind their bedchamber and flood through the curtain gaps. Shadows remained, but a newly dawned day was firmly established before Darcy lifted from his comfortable location nestled into his wife’s neck.

“Good morning,” he whispered, blue eyes shining with love as he brushed his knuckles over her cheekbones.

“Good morning,” she returned, her brown eyes radiating identical contentment.

“Best wake up I have had in, oh, a week or so?”

“I cannot be faulted for you typically rising before the sun, or your youngest son’s appetite.”

“I am assigning no fault, my love. How could I when nearly every night your love aids my cleansing slumber such that I am well rested and eager to rise for another day of marriage to you?” He kissed her pert nose. “Indeed, I rather prefer these surprise awakenings being a special treat. Now I shall have a smug grin on my face all day, likely receiving a wealth of taunts from Richard.”

Lizzy laughed, squeezing and pulling his lean body firmly against hers. “At least you can now tease him in return. I forgot that you were meeting with him today. What else is on your agenda?”

“Dull business all morning, I am afraid. Mr. Daniels will be coming at ten. Until then I plan to attack the mound of documents accumulated on my desk. I fear I shall see little of you or the children after breakfast.”

“You recall that we have an engagement tonight at Lord and Lady Hassert’s? Of course you do.” She chuckled at the vaguely piqued expression that crossed his brows. “Forgive me, dear. I know you would not forget. Well, then I shall probably not see you until we meet in our complementary attire and enter our carriage.”

“Is your schedule as full?”

“Not as much as yours. I have nothing planned this morning other than to play with the children. I need to recuperate from the past weeks’ excitement. Jane and Simone will be joining Georgiana and I for tea and playtime for the children. Mrs. Smyth looked to cry when I told her the news. I believe the Easter entertainments have frazzled her nerves. She so clearly adores children,” she added with a sarcastic laugh.

Darcy smiled and nodded.

“Are you dining at Estad’s?”

“Of course. It is the best in London, and fortuitously close to Angelo’s. By the way, I know I spoke of taking Alexander to the studio to observe the fencing, but I fear I cannot take him with me as I desired. I have appointments with Duke Grafton and Mr. Clemens at White’s immediately following. Thankfully, I had not revealed my plan to him so he shan’t be disappointed. I will take him on another day and fence myself instead.”

“Actually, that is fortunate. We can work together in the garden this afternoon when the sun is beyond the walls and not so scorching. I have those seedlings that Mr. Clark prepared for me yet to plant and have not had the time to do so. I want to plant them in the far garden, in the clearing between the cypress and willow trees. That is the most spacious area for the children to have plots of their own that will grow with them. Mr. Clark gave me some great pointers so I do pray the seedlings have not withered with the delay.”

“I know Alexander is anxious to plant the sunflowers we brought from Pemberley. He is fascinated by sunflowers and I fear his displeasure when they do not fully complete their life cycle before we depart. I cannot make him understand the passage of natural time as yet.”

“He will learn eventually, love. And we have his sunflowers at home to harvest and ease his disappointment.”

Darcy laughed. “I warn you, he will likely spend more time building dirt structures and searching for insects. That is what I did as a boy. An appreciation for horticulture came much later.”

“Well, a man of the earth like his papa should start with the earth, I believe. So he can dig all he wants. A little dirt never hurt anyone. Mrs. Smyth balked at the idea of dirt playing and nearly fainted at the idea of insects in the house when I asked for a glass jar to store any intriguing specimens he discovers.”

“Mrs. Smyth will need to adjust. Examining God’s smallest creatures is an educational pursuit and scrubbing through the ground makes a boy stronger.”

“So, while I entertain the women, you and the other husbands shall be dining at Estad’s. At least promise me you will take the time to kiss me good-day before you depart into the wilds of London?”

He smiled, stroking over her soft cheek. “I promise. And if it is kisses you want, we have a few more minutes before the urgency for coffee and food overwhelms. Come here, Mrs. Darcy.”

***

“Come,” Darcy boomed into the air, the study door opening briskly to reveal the retired Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam. “Richard!” Darcy said with surprise, rising to greet his cousin with a handclasp. “Was noontime not soon enough to share my company?”

He extended a hand to the leather Chippendale across from his parchment-scattered desk, Richard dropping into it with a sigh.

“I thought you might be missing my smiling face, Cousin.” He grinned, reaching to pour a cup of coffee from the silver pot sitting on the edge of the massive desk. “Seriously, please pardon the interruption, William. I know you are busy.” He paused to sweep a hand over the mass of papers piled on the smooth, polished surface. “I thought you paid people to manage for you. What is the point of being obscenely rich if you have to work so hard?”

“You are lazy and an autocrat.” Darcy accused with a shake of his head, Richard shrugging and not denying the tease. “You know I prefer to attend to my business personally. However, I am striving to sell a few of my interests and consolidate. I would rather focus on the mills, Pemberley estate, and my horses, reinvesting some of my money into improving those areas. I am being pulled in too many directions, and I want to devote more time to my family and travel. It will take some time and I need to be wise in my choices, but a major thrust this year has been to begin liquidating and reinvesting into the estate and some stocks that do not require my involvement. Interested in part ownership of a German steel mill?”

Richard grunted. “As you said, I am lazy. And newly married, retired, and preparing to do my part in increasing England’s population.”

“Are you trying to tell me Lady Simone is burdened with a little Fitzwilliam?”

“Wipe that smirk off your face, and do not breathe a word to Elizabeth or I will dust off my rapier and run you through. We are not certain as yet and if my wife knew I was saying anything before she has the chance to proclaim the news to her lady friends, and especially my mother, she would skewer me herself.”

“Your secret is safe, Cousin. I do pray you are blessed with a positive confirmation soon. Elizabeth will be beside herself with joy and Aunt Madeline will be uncontainable.”

“After she recovers from her seizure. I swear she still thinks my marriage is all a happy dream that she will wake from imminently.”

Darcy laughed. “As do we all, my friend. Now, why are you really here if it is not to make an announcement?”

Richard sat forward, suddenly a colonel even if wearing a finely tailored suit similar to Darcy’s. “My associates returned from Devon.”

Darcy’s face lost all traces of jocularity, eyes intent and mouth set. “Proceed.”

“Some of what they reported you already know, but I paid them to be thorough.”

“I owe you for that, by the way.”

Richard waved a hand dismissively. “Forget it. It is my pleasure and you can pay me in father-related advice.” He reached into an inner pocket of his jacket, removing a sheath of folded papers as he continued. “I gave my associates little information other than names. I wanted them to be thorough without any prior biases or assumptions. Therefore most of the information written on these pages is redundant, as we already know the rumors. But they were assiduous in their search and record keeping. I spent most of last night after returning home sifting through this, much to my beautiful wife’s vexation, so you owe me a drink or two for that sacrifice on my part.”

He smiled, but Darcy only nodded, eyes on the pages in Richard’s hands.

Richard cleared his throat and resumed. “As you know, after recovering from the wounds you inflicted, Orman retreated to his estate in Devon and sold the one in Derbyshire. All the stories say that he hid himself behind the thick stonewalls and steadfastly began drinking himself into an early grave. That is difficult to verify, but the estate fell into disrepair within months with more than half the employees let go, so he clearly was not managing effectively. And there is some evidence that the local distributors of spirits have profited from his full-time residency, so there is probably some truth in that rumor. All of this, in addition to his selling of the London townhouse he owned, led to talk of financial woes.

“You also know how the rumors of his injuries escalated. I specifically charged my associates to discover the truth. It was difficult, but they finally learned that he is not completely crippled. He is able to walk, but haltingly with a severe limp, extreme pain, and the use of a crutch. He is not too pretty between the scars you gave him and the beauty that Lizzy delivered to his cheek. And apparently the gash to his thigh area, with subsequent festering, rendered him impotent.”

Darcy was genuinely taken aback at that, instinctively clenching his own thighs together at the horror of such a fate, before remembering that in Lord Orman’s case this was likely a blessing.

Richard shook his head, reading Darcy’s expressions. “It is not the positive you may imagine. Sure, he can no longer rape a woman, but he has transferred his anger, bitterness, and lechery to assaulting in other ways. Tragically that fact is the only way my friends were able to get any personal information. Orman never leaves his estate and no one visits him, except for select prostitutes from a local bordello.”

“But… What in the world would be the point if he cannot…” Darcy waved his hand vaguely.

“Apparently his appetite is not diminished even if he is unable to perform. Do you really want me to give further details of Orman’s perverted proclivities, William? No, I did not think so. The brothel is high class and the girls are well paid for their indulgence—and their silence, but fortunately for us, these types of individuals are also prone to gossip and are mercenary.”

He paused, gazing at his grim, pursed-lipped cousin. Darcy looked near to retching, the topic of conversation one that highly insulted his moral sensibilities. “I will just leave it that my associates are not so delicate and had no trouble stooping to distasteful methods in order to glean information. They had a fine time in the pursuit, I assure you, and no young ladies were injured, but that is where some of my money went and why I would therefore not ask you to reimburse me.”

Darcy nodded, too disturbed to reply.

“The important part,” Richard continued, “is that the information tells me that Orman is not a man fully in the grips of sanity. Additionally, the men were able to waylay the town surgeon who treats Orman. The man is a sot with loose morals and poor medical skills. Why he was chosen and is allowed in Orman’s presence may seem to be illogical, but his lacking ethics are the key. He gleefully spilled an ocean of information for two bottles of cheap port. His tales of Orman’s requirements, such as opium and ether for dulling his pain and recreational purposes, grew wilder as he reached the end of the second bottle. But, if half of what he said is true, Orman is seriously deranged.”

“And thus a man not to be trusted.”

“Yes. But also a man who probably could not reason beyond the desire for personal pleasures and revenge.”

Darcy sat back in his chair with a sigh, fingers methodically tapping on the cushioned armrest. “So, Elizabeth could not have seen him in Hertfordshire if he never leaves his house in Devon.”

“Do not be too hasty, Cousin. I have not told you all.”

Darcy lifted his piercing gaze, again alert and intense. “Wickham?”

Richard shook his head. “My men found nothing about Wickham. They asked all along the Devon roads especially at the inns, carefully mind you, but his name is unknown. But here is what is interesting. Some eighteen months ago, roughly, things began to gradually change around Orman’s estate. Crops were being planted again, a few new tenant farmers were contracted, and the grounds were improved. Rumors are rife, mind you, and no one speaks with any credibility, but there is one constant. A new employee that no one knows well, or can give a good description of, now works for the Marquis. He is mysterious, but most agree his name is Geoffrey Wiseman.”

Darcy hissed through grit teeth. “Geoffrey Wiseman. George Wickham. That is too much of a coincidence!”

Richard shrugged. “Perhaps. But…”

“Perhaps? You must see how this all fits?”

“I see that it is one way to interpret the vague information, but not conclusive. Even you must admit, Darcy, that there are probably thousands of men in England with the initials G.W.?” Darcy nodded, but his eyes conveyed no doubt in his assumption. Richard, despite his claim, matched Darcy’s expression. “However, I concur that there are too many aspects to this tale that raise my hackles.”