Mr. Darcy's Forbidden Love-kindle (44 page)

“Why have I heard nothing of this before now?”

“There was no reason that you should have been informed. Women are to concern themselves with domestic refinements, nothing more.”

Alfreda flinched but did not reply. She had already incurred his wrath by saying too much. Moreover, now that David had returned, she could see how mistaken she had been to encourage Elizabeth to marry John just because she desired her company. It was a selfish goal, as no one deserved a husband such as her brother, and had Elizabeth decided upon the match, her lively nature would be crushed under his iron fist.

Wilkens had ceased speaking. When she became aware of his gaze, she looked down to her feet, a sign he always considered one of submission. “It is settled then? I can depend on you to keep Elizabeth in line?”

Alfreda nodded. At the end of the dinner party, Aunt Violet had opportunity to whisper the plan to inform her brother about the engagement to Colonel Cochran once she was safely ensconced in Lady Holmes’ residence in Town. If her brother wanted to inherit Hawthorne Hall, he would have to agree with their aunt’s conditions. Alfreda smiled to herself, for she knew how much John wanted that inheritance.

For now, though, she and Elizabeth had to endure only a few more days before they would both be free. They had been in luck as John spent most of this visit in Ramsgate, even the nights, working on his project. Once in London, Alfreda was confident that her friend would put an end to the supposed courtship. Wordlessly, she made a promise to do all in her power to support Elizabeth against the wrath of her brother after he learned her decision. Furthermore, she would earnestly pray that her friend would find a man who would truly care for her—someone as kind and honourable as her David.

~~~*~~~

Hawthorne Hall

As Barney Giles, a footman of long standing in the household, helped Lady Hawthorne into the waiting carriage, he noted that she seemed to be in an excellent mood. In fact, with all the visitors they had entertained lately, she appeared happier than she had in many months.

Smiling as she settled in the tufted cushioned seat, he offered her the wool rug that he had pulled from beneath the seat only moments before. The Mistress always appreciated something to cover her legs now that she was getting on in years.

“Thank you, Giles.”

He bowed. “You are quite welcome, milady.”

As Giles looked back to the manor, Lady Ashcroft appeared at the top of the portico and then raced down the steps to the carriage. As he helped her into the seat across from his mistress, Lady Hawthorne chuckled. “Why are you in such a hurry, Audrey? One would think banshees were fast on your heels.”

As the carriage began to move, Lady Ashcroft laughed. “Nothing so dramatic, but I was in the foyer before I remembered my reticule was still on my bed. I secreted several pounds and a cheque inside it last night, as I intend to purchase gifts for my family while we shop today.”

“You must intend to purchase something quite expensive if you need a cheque.”

“That is for a painting of the sea at Mrs. Young’s gallery that interests me. If I can strike a bargain with her, I mean to have it in my sitting room at Pemberley. Then I may enjoy the tranquillity of the sea all year round.”

“What about Georgiana? Perhaps she has painted a likeness of the sea that you may wish to frame and hang.”

“Georgiana has greatly improved, but I would not go so far as to call her accomplished—certainly not in creating large paintings. She does quite well with small landscapes, and her technique is superior to last year. I have no doubt that with more training she will reach her goal of becoming a proficient artist.”

“Good. Good. Young women should participate in all those things that interest them. I despise women who while away their time waiting for an offer of marriage. It is evident that Georgiana has a quick mind and willing spirit, and it would be a waste not to allow her to reach her potential.”

“Fitzwilliam agrees with us on that matter. He will go to any lengths to fulfil her quest for knowledge.” Audrey Ashcroft shook her head sadly. “Would that my father had been of the same mind! Most of my education came after I married Joseph, at least education in subjects of interest to me, such as astronomy and biology.”

“You had a good man and so did I. Horace was never jealous of my thirst for knowledge.”

Audrey reached to pat her friend’s hand. “We were very fortunate. When I think of how your nephew has treated poor Alfreda—”

“He will be her curse no more! I will write Penelope and Walter and inform them of the situation and ask them to take Alfreda under their care until she is married to David. I intend to confront John once Alfreda is safe. I do not believe my nephew is stupid enough to defy me and lose all claim to Hawthorne Hall. I have safeguards in place to make sure he carries out my wishes.”

“I pray he sees the wisdom of letting her marry Colonel Cochran and retaining the inheritance you offer him. I am concerned, however, about his plans for Elizabeth Bennet.”

“Yes, poor Miss Bennet! I hardly had time to converse with her during my dinner party, but anyone with good sense could see that she is not happy in John’s company. And he kept constant guard over her, rushing in to claim her attention whenever she dared to say a few words to my other guests. He is apparently too dim-witted to notice the way she disdains him.”

“Precisely. That is why I feel I must ask a favour in return.”

“Anything.”

“Alfreda confided in me that Miss Bennet is determined to quit the courtship once they return to London. I am greatly relieved, as someone I know is deeply in love with her, and I am praying for a match.”

“So Miss Bennet means to toss him over. Good for her!” Lady Hawthorne leaned in as though not to be overheard. “Please, I must know who it is you favour?”

“Promise that you will never repeat this.”

Violet’s expression changed, and she became serious. “We have been particular friends for twenty years, and I have never revealed any confidence in all that time.”

Properly chastised, Audrey shared her secret. “It is my nephew.”

“Richard?”

“No, Fitzwilliam! He met her quite by accident several months ago and fell hopelessly in love with her at first sight.”

“Does she return his love?”

“I was able to ascertain that she does, though naturally she abandoned all hope after she learned he was married. That is why she agreed to your nephew’s courtship and accompanied Alfreda to Gatesbridge. I promised Fitzwilliam that I would keep an eye on her while I was here. Oddly, after seeing the way Wilkens guarded her during your party, I have a strange feeling that he may not let her return to London as planned. I worry that he may begin to suspect that she is going to break the courtship, and he will do something imprudent.”

“Granted, John can be quite ruthless if he thinks he is being thwarted. I knew of his dissolute ways, but until I learned of his treatment of Alfreda after David’s request for a courtship, I never really comprehended his true nature.” She seemed lost in thought for a moment before suddenly addressing Audrey. “I can certainly understand your concern.”

“I pray he will let her return to London without incident.”

“If not, I shall not hesitate to intervene.”

“Thank you. I knew I could rely on you.”

“So Fitzwilliam will finally divorce that harridan. I am delighted!”

“He will move heaven and earth to marry Miss Bennet. Only her refusal will stop him.”

“Then I pray that Miss Bennet knows a treasure when she meets one. Fitzwilliam is much like my Horace and your Joseph—a man among men.”

“I could not agree more.”

The carriage came to a sudden stop, and both ladies looked out the window. The streets were lined with various shops and stores filled with all manner of merchandise and products produced in that area of England. As one of the Bow Street Runners leaped down to open the door, Audrey completed her thought.

“Let us pray that both Alfreda and Miss Bennet are allowed to leave without incident.”

Lady Hawthorne’s eyes twinkled, though she did not smile. “If not, John will learn the consequences of my displeasure.”

Audrey nodded, well aware of the scope of her friend’s power and influence. “Now, what say you to helping me find something unusual for my nephew? It is impossible to purchase anything for Fitzwilliam, as he had everything he desires, but Richard is another matter. He loves whatever I buy him.”

“Then buy Fitzwilliam some serviceable gloves and purchase something for the woman he loves, just as Anne would have done were she alive. We women understand what another woman will cherish. Perhaps some lovely lace handkerchiefs, a silk shawl or opera gloves trimmed with lace.” Violet exited the carriage with a youthful vigour. “There is even a shop in the next lane that sells miniature chests. Just follow me.”

With that, she turned to enter the nearest shop, Madame Juliette, a modiste. The windows of the establishment featured a bride’s trousseau—silk and lace in champagne colours that had been fashioned into every imaginable item of intimate clothing. Audrey could not help but smile at her friend’s choice.

As Violet quickly disappeared inside, an animated greeting echoed from the open door. “Welcome, Madame Hawthorne! What brings you to my little shop today?”

~~~*~~~

Younge’s Art Gallery

The morning at the art gallery had progressed much as every other had since Georgiana’s lessons began. Mrs. Younge started the day by instructing her charges in brush techniques. Then she gave Georgiana personal tutoring while she sent Margaret to the gazebo to practice what she had learned. As the temperature rose, both girls were ushered into a large room in back of the house with windows on three sides. The windows were covered by shutters that could be propped open on wooden supports. An oil lamp burning near an opening in the high ceiling created a draft, allowing the salty sea breeze to be pulled through the open windows, thus keeping their work area cool and comfortable.

Around noon they broke for refreshments—tea with small sandwiches, biscuits and cakes. Next, everyone rested on the shaded back porch for a half-hour before walking to the gazebo, and then strolling down and back along the wide boardwalk that ran behind all the shops to get a bit of exercise. When they returned to the gallery, Mrs. Younge normally would begin instructions in colour composition or something similar. But today was Friday, the one day that lessons ended earlier.

Thus, Lady Strongham was given personal instruction while Georgiana occupied the gazebo. At that time of day, the temperature had cooled somewhat, and the spot provided an excellent opportunity for sketching the sea. Today she intended to draw the various birds that ran after the various insects and sea life along the shoreline.  Having just placed a new canvas on her stand, she was leaning down to select a brush from the case containing her supplies when a shadow came between her and the sun. Startled, she gasped and looked up to catch the piercing gaze of Mr. Wickham as he chuckled softly with a bemused smile.

“Did I frighten you? I am sorry. I thought you heard me coming.”

Giving him a slightly irritated look, Georgiana began to saturate her brush with a blue the colour of the sky from her palette and then stroked it across the canvas in broad strokes as though annoyed. Wickham noticed. Today of all days a good rapport was essential.

“Truly, I am sorry if I caused you alarm, Miss Darcy. I did not realise that you did not hear my footsteps.”

Georgiana’s shoulders relaxed, and Wickham breathed a sigh of relief. She continued her preoccupation with her painting, and he feigned interest, making inane conversation, though his mind reeled with his plans. Having learned that this was the least popular day for tourists to visit the area, he felt he had to act now. Less people on the boardwalk meant fewer witnesses to the disappearance, and he had a small window of opportunity to accomplish his objective. Pulling another chair close by Georgiana’s, he sat down and leaned towards her as he pretended to study her work.

“I am fascinated by artists. I could never draw, and I am certain that no amount of lessons would improve my poor efforts.”

Georgiana smiled slightly. “I think Mrs. Younge could teach anyone to draw a respectable picture, if not paint a portrait.”

“Oh, I must disagree. I am talentless when it comes to painting or drawing.”

They sat in companionable silence until he felt he had no alternative than to speak. “Georgiana.”

Georgiana stopped, her brush in mid stroke, as her eyes flicked to him. “You have always addressed me as Miss Darcy.”

“But what I have to say, I would like to say to Georgiana, if you do not mind.”

Georgiana shrugged, not realising the importance of his declaration. As she leaned down to wash her brush, Wickham reached to still her hand, making her eyebrows furrow. At the same time, voices were heard coming from the direction of the art gallery. A quick glance told Wickham that several people had walked onto the covered back porch and were now watching them. He strained to see if one was Lady Ashcroft but upon inspection thought that none resembled her. Aware that it was only a matter of time before Darcy’s aunt discovered him alone with her niece, he jumped into action.

“Would it be possible for us to walk on the beach while we talk?” At her hesitation, he added, “Only a short walk. This is my last day in Ramsgate, and I have not had opportunity to put even one foot on the sand.”

Georgiana studied him, and he smiled widely, making him appear boyish. She nodded. Putting her supplies aside, she stood as he did and placed her hand on his outstretched arm. Guiding her expertly down the steps to the beach, Wickham swiftly led her in the direction of the path he had discovered—the one that led back to the main road where his coach sat poised to spirit her away.

As they walked, Wickham covered her small hand with his, causing Georgiana to peer up at him with an expression of bewilderment. He deliberately avoided meeting her gaze, instead staring straight ahead as he began his soliloquy.