Page 31 of Pemberley's Imposter
“Ladies are much more fickle in their affections than gentlemen,” the master hurried to explain.
“I could mention two gentlemen who have proved themselves to be exceedingly fickle. Some are too easily persuaded by their friends, whilst others are effortlessly deceived by their family,” Elizabeth retorted and clunked down on the keys to quell any rejoinders that might be budding. A Scottish air filled the room, effectively preventing further conversation.
Elizabeth played two other pieces she knew by heart, curtsied to the room, and retired for the evening.
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Searching for Mr Wickham in Lambton became the order of the following days. A number of clues had led to an equal number of disappointments. The colonel had promised a substantial reward for those who could lead them to his capture, which hitherto had proved as futile as their other efforts. Wickham was expertly avoiding detection, which was probably spurred on by the knowledge that a deserter from the army during wartime would face a severe penalty.
Elizabeth had written to Lydia but had yet to receive an answer. Either the post was slow or Lydia could have already left for Longbourn. She would have expected an answer no later than today if Lydia had replied in a timely manner. Her youngest sister was not the most reliable correspondent, but if she was in trouble, it would be in her self-interest to exert herself.
The most anticipated prospect was the Bingleys’ visit. They were due to arrive in two days’ time if all went well on their journey. Jane was probably already informed about Lydia’s trouble and could accomplish whatever must be done. Elizabeth had modest means and even less opportunity to do anything. Mr Darcy would hardly allow her to travel to Newcastle and certainly not with Ellie. Leaving her daughter at Pemberley without her protection was inconceivable.
#
After Elizabeth had accused Darcy, in a convoluted fashion, of not taking a practical, direct role in raising his child, he had begun to attend Ellie in the nursery. Every afternoon he spent half an hour with his daughter. Elizabeth stayed in the background but never left them alone. Ellie had taken to her father with little to no fuss. The quiet, brooding man did not intimidate her sociable daughter at all. The rascal sat quietly in his lap whenever he read to her. Especially if he was reading from theTales from Shakespeare, written by Charles Lamb with large etchings by William Mulready, which must have cost a small fortune.
The colonel burst into the nursery, scaring Elizabeth witless. She immediately backed into the opposite wall whilst clutching her chest.
“Darcy, was your mother buried with any jewellery?”
What an odd question to ask,Elizabeth thought as she tried to relax her rigid stance.
“Yes, she was wearing her wedding ring. My father did not have the heart to remove it.”
The colonel groaned. “Did Wickham know?”
“It is a well-known fact. It has been retold as a romantic notion in this house and the local area for nearly two decades. Why do you ask?”
“He was just spotted walking towards the mausoleum.”
Mr Darcy rose abruptly, forgetting about the daughter in his lap, but he at least had the wherewithal to hold onto her. Elizabeth moved across the room to relieve him of Ellie, and the cousins left in a hurry.
Elizabeth stood indecisively in the middle of the room before she came to her senses. Wickham was depraved, selfish, and would go to great lengths for monetary gain, but grave robbery was excessive, even for him. His debts must be substantial if he was willing to degrade himself in such a manner. Poor Lydia!
Elizabeth did not see hide nor hair of her husband for the rest of the day. The colonel arrived fifteen minutes late for dinner with a solemn expression on his countenance and announced Mr Darcy would be late and they should eat without him.
Elizabeth barely touched her food; something sinister was afoot, but she was not sure what, exactly. She retired to the nursery as soon as the Fitzwilliams had finished eating. Fortunately, neither of them tried to detain her. The meal had been awkward enough.
Mr Darcy was not in attendance at breakfast the next morning either. According to the colonel, he had slept at home but had left again at first light. His absence did not provide the relief Elizabeth would have expected. It brought more uncertainty to have the colonel in the house without the protection Mr Darcy provided.
One more day and Jane would arrive with her serene calmness and unconditional support. Mr Bingley was an additional advantage; he had risen much in her esteem since his first visit to Meryton. Jane had been the making of the man, increasing his confidence and calming his propensities towards acting impetuously.
The light drizzle of the morning intensified into a summer storm. Wherever Mr Darcy was, he was not likely to come home during a downpour. Neither could Elizabeth take her daughter to play in the gardens. She would have preferred to be out of the colonel’s way; she kept encountering him, and he looked more sombre by the hour. It was to be hoped nothing sinister had happened to Mr Darcy. Her husband had most likely chosen the colonel as guardian for their daughter if he had made any arrangements at all. Elizabeth had not thought she could ever feel anything but relieved by Mr Darcy’s absence, but there was an alternative that was even less tempting.
Finally, the clouds abated, as was typical for the capricious summer weather. The sun burst through and dried the ground. Elizabeth and Ellie escaped for a turn at their favourite activity—the swing in the rose garden.
Chapter 11 Imposter Imperceptible
It was a warm midsummer day, and the Bingleys were hot and bothered after being cooped up for so long in a sweltering carriage. It was with a sigh of relief that they drove through Lambton and finally turned onto the road to Pemberley. The seemingly endless driveway was adorned by ancient oaks and opened up into a garden crowned by the most handsome Palladian house. Jane’s hands flew up to clutch her heart.
“I never imagined… It is so grand! To think my sister is the mistress of all this splendour. Mr Darcy has every reason to be proud!”
“Notthatproud,” her husband replied dryly with a smile on his face.
The carriage drew to a halt at the bottom of the steps, and a flurry of events happened at once. The dreaded colonel and his wife must have been close by because they were standing under the portico to welcome them.
Awkward greetings were exchanged; servants shuffled back and forth with trunks and bags while the housekeeper tried to inform them of the direction of their rooms. Charlie and his nursemaid were whisked off to the nursery. Jane was left feeling somewhat bereft as she dreaded her first meeting with the master of Pemberley after giving him the cut direct. ButMr Darcy had proved to respond wonderfully towards children when her offspring had run him down in town. Charlie would have been an adorable shield who would disarm any reproaches Mr Darcy thought she deserved. It was therefore with relief that she noticed the master was not in attendance.
