Page 25 of Pemberley's Imposter
“Elizabeth did not exactly act as an innocent wife, and you were married for less than two months. I would not take her word for it if she implies the child is your heir.”
The colonel glanced at Elizabeth. Mrs Fitzwilliam turned abruptly and stared wide-eyed at her husband, but the man only shrugged his shoulders.
“I take umbrage against your baseless accusations,” Elizabeth seethed. “They are nothing but ridiculous lies formed upon a short and indifferent acquaintance.”
“I am not her father, but there might have been others,” the colonel suggested, raising his voice to speak over Elizabeth. “You are a fool, Darcy, if you accept Elysande as your own.”
Hearing her name spurred Ellie into action. “Pretty Papa,” she said and kissed her father’s cheek.
“You were always too tender-hearted, Darcy. At Pemberley it was Wickham. Look how well that turned out. At school it was Bingley. His wife later gave you the cut direct, and he did nothing to correct Mrs Bingley’s maltreatment. Now it is the bastard child of God knows whom? You should have learnt by now not to try to rescue every black sheep you happen upon.”
“Bastaw.” Ellie mimicked every new word she heard, or rather, she tried to. It jolted Elizabeth from her stupor induced by the colonel’s defamatory slander, and the fear that had numbed her senses released its clammy grip.
“I hardly think this is a conversation fit for a child,” she declared. Mr Darcy must have agreed because he placed Ellie in her waiting arms, and she immediately quit the room. The colonel followed her to the threshold but thankfully not beyond. If he was trying to intimidate her, he was succeeding.
With all the calm she could muster, Elizabeth continued to the nursery and rang the bell. A maid entered after a few short minutes. Elizabeth ordered food to be delivered there; she would share her meal with her daughter. The colonel’s presence made her wary of leaving Ellie unattended—not that she believed her company would be missed…
Elizabeth was not particularly concerned on her own behalf. The colonel had never, apart from the incident in the library, shown any romantic interest in her person. She had been stunned when he hinted at his impediments to choosing his own bride at Rosings, implying it had anything to do with her.
The latter years’ events had proved her right. Colonel Fitzwilliam had no interest in her beyond the fact she was the wife of the master of Pemberley and subsequently the mother of its future heirs. The colonel now being married to the heir presumptive—before her daughter had surprised him with her existence—could mean only one thing: the colonel wanted Pemberley by any means necessary. Why Mr Darcy remained ignorant to that fact was a conundrum, but she doubted any observation from her would change his mind.
It spoke well of Mr Darcy that he preferred his daughter as his successor over his cousin’s progeny. But the colonel was now aware of the preference, which made him a threat to Ellie. Elizabeth’s move to the nursery proved fortuitous indeed as it allowed her to protect her daughter at night, and her evening prayer was dedicated to fervently wishing Mr Darcy would not oppose the arrangement should it come to his attention.
#
The next morning, the breakfast room was shy of one resident. It irked Darcy that Elizabeth shunned his company so much that she would not even deign to share a meal with him. Itwas nothewho was to blame for the disaster that had befallen them.
He had excused her behaviour the previous evening due to fatigue from her travels, but she should be well rested by now. He discreetly ordered a servant to fetch her. It would not do for the mistress of Pemberley to snub her guests, though he found pleasure in observing her reserve towards the colonel. She should rightly feel ashamed of herself; even trepidation was natural and just.
The footman returned unsuccessfully. Mrs Darcy was not in her chamber, and nothing suggested she had been there since the previous evening. The bed had been left untouched, according to the maid who had lit the fire in the morning. The servant had been thorough.
It would not have been such an uncommon occurrence before Mrs Darcy’s estrangement. She had often slept in the master’s suite, but none of the servants working at Pemberley was unfamiliar with the course of events and the unlikelihood of that ever happening.
“Find her!” the master of Pemberley hissed to his footman.
“I already have. She has breakfasted in the nursery, sir. An extra cot has been added to the room.”
“Thank you, that will be all,” Darcy managed to grind out through his teeth.
If she had moved to the nursery to avoid his advances, it had been an unnecessary endeavour. He had no wish to resume their intimate relationship. His wife was here solely for the comfort of his child, nothing more.
“Is Mrs Darcy giving you trouble already?” the colonel probed with a poorly concealed smirk.
“It is nothing I cannot handle. Excuse me. I have business to attend to this morning. You will have to entertain yourselves for a while,” he hastened to declare and rose abruptly.
“We can manage, can we not, dear?”
The colonel and his sister shared a pitiful glance in his direction, but Darcy had no need for their sympathy. He was no worse off than most of his acquaintances, if the stories related at White’s were true. Cuckolding was fairly common; faithfulness was rather scarce in superior society. It served him right for choosing a wife so beneath him in station, though he doubted he would have been any better off with a wife from theton. The female gender was called the weaker sex for a reason. The male sex was definitely less fickle. Bingley sprung to mind; he had demonstrated more backbone than Darcy had previously given him credit for.
#
Elizabeth entered the dining room with her head held high. Her husband had called her to his study and related in no uncertain terms that she was expected to attend breakfast and dinner as long as they were hosting guests. Elizabeth felt the perverseness of entertaining the colonel, the man who had accosted her and ruined her life. Why Mr Darcy could tolerate him was beyond her comprehension. Either he was enduring the reprobate for the sake of his sister or he blamed her alone for their present circumstances.
Elizabeth let her gaze drift towards the officer. All his attention was focused on his wife, which was a relief. She had been apprehensive after he had followed her to the threshold of the parlour the previous day, trying to intimidate her. Her gaze moved to Mr Darcy. He was deep in thought and only picked at his food. His eyes left his plate and swept over his sister.Elizabeth stifled a gasp at the tender sentiments reflected in the glance. He was tolerating his cousin because of Mrs Fitzwilliam.
“Mrs Darcy.”
Elizabeth startled, surprised at being addressed. “Yes.”
