Mr. Darcy's Great Escape (11 page)

Puzzled, she was still rereading the letter over breakfast when Georgiana joined her and, seeing the letter, immediately inquired as to whether it was from her brother.

“No, it's from Lord William Kincaid. He wishes to call on Mr. Darcy but is aware that he is out of town, though he does not say more than that. So he wishes to call on me, essentially. I have no idea why—” But, upon seeing Georgiana's coloring face, she immediately put down the letter. “Might you have something to say on this development?”

Georgiana put her head down to avoid Elizabeth's eyes. “You can be so like Brother when you wish to be.”

“It seems, in his absence, I must, but I am still your sister. Now, Lord Kincaid.”

“Yes.”

“Should we ramble about the actual subject or will you just tell me what it is you know about him that I apparently do not?” she said, her manner lighter than Darcy's, but still with a degree of semi-parental authority.

“Oh, please forgive me!” Georgiana said, clearly ready to break into tears. “I've deceived you and Brother for so long.”

“
Deceived?
”

“Well, not deception—nothing has happened. It was just—we ran into each other, on the street in Town this past spring. He decided to finally pay his dues and attend the session of the House of Lords, and was quite lost. So, I offered to show him the way best I knew it. We chatted, and he asked to call on me, but of course he couldn't, so—” Her flurry of words was enough to confuse Elizabeth as to whether she should be amused or indignant, “—I asked Dr. Maddox to call on him. After all, they do know each other, although they haven't spoken for years. And since I so often dine with the Maddoxes—”

“—he's essentially been courting you? All summer?”

There was little possibility that Georgiana's face could get any redder. “No! No, it was not a formal courtship, I swear! I would have gone to Brother for that! It was so much milder than it sounds. And do not think badly of the Maddoxes! Dr. Maddox kept a stern eye on him the whole time, and Mrs. Maddox was—well, you know, she enjoys watching people come together. I was going to tell Brother—but first he was upset from visiting Aunt Catherine, and at that point I had hardly seen Lord Kincaid more than a few times. Then he got the letter about Grégoire—and you know how he is when he is in an unshakable mood. William—Lord Kincaid—he really did mean, right before Brother was to leave, to go to Pemberley and request permission for a formal courtship. He promised me he would, but I dissuaded him, so as not to upset Brother further. But I confess, since he left and took Dr. Maddox with him, I have not had a chance to see Lord Kincaid, and it does bother me, and I considered even asking the Hursts, but I didn't—”

“Enough,” said Elizabeth, now thoroughly amused by Georgiana's exasperated rant. “Georgiana, I understand perfectly.”

“—And—wait, you do?”

“Of course,” she said without hesitation. “You could have told me though. I would have taken it into confidence if you asked. And your brother is not so against you marrying as you think. If Lord Kincaid wishes to call upon Rosings—I do believe he met Lord Matlock when he was Colonel Fitzwilliam, at the wedding of Caroline, and besides, Lady Catherine had gentlemen visiting her all she liked, despite her thorough knowledge of convention, so why should I not have the same liberties?”

“So—he can come?”

“No matter how the floorboards may creak, I would not deny him the pleasure of seeing Rosings,” she said with a smile.

“Oh, Elizabeth—thank you!”

“It hardly requires thanks. The distraction of playing the role of both Mr. and Mrs. Darcy during the presentation of a suitor will be a pleasant distraction for me. And Lord knows I could use one.”

The Mistress of Rosings

Lord William Kincaid arrived quickly from Kent and was received by the new Lord Richard Matlock in place of Darcy. Elizabeth greeted him as the new mistress of Rosings, and they were spared the awkwardness of it, by Lady Catherine, still confined to the upstairs floors. Elizabeth brought forward her son, whom he had met only briefly and when Geoffrey was not old enough to remember, and her eldest daughter, whom he had not met at all. The last they had seen of him was at the Maddox wedding. It was not long ago, and he still had that pleasant demeanor that Elizabeth remembered. Aside from his accent, he was not recognizably a Scot in dress—this time. In greeting Georgiana, he was polite and abnormally shy—an obvious enough sign of affection. Elizabeth silently swore to write to Caroline Maddox immediately and uncover this minor mystery, though she was sure if their informal courtship had been at all improper, Dr. Maddox would have
instantly
intervened and informed Darcy.

Lord Kincaid was quickly informed of the situation as it was, with Darcy being on the Continent, but most of the specifics were not mentioned. They had a light lunch. No one wanted to discuss the war, so Kincaid was left to explain how he was finding London and the House of Lords. “A privilege you'll be enjoying, I'm sure,” he said to Lord Matlock with a sarcastic wink, causing Fitzwilliam to nearly choke on his luncheon meat, which brought a smile to the face of his wife.

After lunch, Kincaid requested to see Lady Catherine's famous gardens, and Elizabeth was generous enough to let Georgiana show him. Their chaperone, she decided, would be Geoffrey, who seemed eager for at least one other male in the house and said, “I like him. He talks funny.”

“But you shan't say that to his face. Or perhaps you shall. He might like it,” she said, pushing him along. Geoffrey wouldn't be much in the way of a traditional chaperone, but he was sure to get himself into trouble somehow, distracting his aunt by making her watch out for his welfare. In this arrangement, Elizabeth was content.

“He seems like a nice fellow,” Lord Matlock said as they watched the couple leave.

“Yes,” Elizabeth said. “He is. I always regret that I missed him swinging from a chandelier.”

***

Lord Kincaid and Georgiana returned within a proper amount of time, at which point Georgiana excused herself to see to Lady Catherine, and Elizabeth found herself facing a very apprehensive Scot in what had once been Sir Lewis' study.

“I presume you know why I am here,” he said, bowing. “I apologize for the incredibly poor timing—”

“There was nothing you could do to prevent it, Lord Kincaid.”

“Yes,” he said. He looked nervous. “I understand a date for Mr. Darcy's return is not fixed yet.”

“No,” Elizabeth replied, feeling uncomfortable herself at the situation, and nauseous from lunch, but that was hardly
his
fault.

“Then, in his absence, I would kindly refer to you for permission to court Miss Darcy.”

She was only surprised in that it was not an outright proposal, and that surprise was minor. “I will consent in his place. However, it can go no further without his personal approval. He is most protective of his sister.”

“So I have been told,” he swallowed. “But—I see no cause not to pursue this courtship. I do care for Miss Darcy.”

“I can see that,” Elizabeth said. “You have my blessing. You may call on Rosings as you wish, Lord Kincaid.”

He smiled, his face flushed. “Thank you so very much, Mrs. Darcy.”

“Believe me,” she said, “it is my pleasure.”

***

Unfortunately, the already overburdened Elizabeth Darcy, mistress of Pemberley, Derbyshire, Rosings, and Kent, had one more unexpected visitor. The very sight of Mrs. Lydia Wickham tugging along her two children was enough to make her sigh and ring for her servants. “Dress my children and get them ready to see their cousins.”

“Yes, marm.”

“And have tea sent in immediately. My sister prefers it very sweet.”

“Yes, marm.”

Georgiana was in Kent, shopping, her spirits brightened by the arrival of Lord Kincaid. That left Mrs. Darcy alone, but perhaps it was better this way, she thought, as she opened her arms to greet her. “Lydia.”

“Lizzy! Oh, look at this place!” Lydia was between breaths, shouting for the servants to attend to her trunks and to embrace her sister while keeping hold on her children at the same time. “It's so grand! And to think your aunt lived here all alone!”

“Yes,” Elizabeth said. “It was quite dreary for her.”

If Lydia caught her meaning she ignored it. “But come, I must see my nieces and nephew, and you must yours, and we must talk. And tea! Some tea would be lovely.”

Elizabeth decided not to mention that she had had not a hint of her sister's arrival until someone spotted a carriage coming down the road, and it was not until Lydia emerged that she actually knew the occupants. Or she had not mentioned the odd and distressing situation of having a husband who had just (unknowingly, probably) inherited a grand estate but was lost on the Continent, trying to find his monastic brother. She set those obvious points aside and joined her sister for tea, and there was much comparing of the children. George and Isabella (commonly called Isabel) were older than their counterparts, but not by much.

“This is such a grand house,” Lydia said. “You are so fortunate, Lizzy, to have two houses. And one in Town! Papa's finally renovating Longbourn, but it'll never be anything to compare—you're just so
lucky
.”

Lydia Wickham, now four and twenty, had to some extent matured in manners. Elizabeth kept her occasional temper with her sister intact by reminding herself that at her age, Elizabeth had been married for three years and (as her husband would readily recall) a bit stubborn, ready with an insult when she felt her husband needed it. Not that much had changed, but she could look back realistically and say that two children, being mistress of a great estate, and a hurried tour of the Continent had had some effect on her general countenance. “I suppose I am, but this is only a matter of entail. My husband has no intention of keeping Rosings. It should go to the Fitzwilliams.”

“But to even have an estate to toss off—that's truly rich.”

There was some truth in her statement. “Yes,” Elizabeth admitted, and sipped her tea.

“Wickham left us with nothing. He didn't die on the battlefield, even if he
was
killed, so the army won't give us anything except some monies meant for his burial. And Mr. Darcy—”

“Lydia,” Elizabeth said, “can we not bring my husband into this?”

Lydia gave her a look. It was not particularly harsh, but it was annoyed. “How can we
not
?”

“Because it pains me to think of it, as it does my husband—greatly. But he provided for your children—”

“And he won't let me touch it! Even for a doctor!”

Elizabeth lowered her cup. “Darcy refused a doctor? Who needs a doctor?”

“I didn't ask him. He always refuses me when I want to buy things, so why should he say yes now? He's such an obstinate man! I have no idea how you put up with him—well, aside from the obvious comforts and security—”

“Lydia,” Elizabeth interrupted, not sure whether disgust or alarm was going to overwhelm her first, “who needs a doctor?”

“It was nothing—but I wanted one for George. So I had to ask Papa.”

“And Papa refused?”

“No, of course he didn't. Papa has all this money now, thanks to
Mary
, but he's so stingy with it, because it's
Mary
's—”

Elizabeth shook her head. Trying to keep Lydia in the same conversational direction was difficult. “So George saw a doctor. What was the matter?”

“Nothing. Or that's what the doctor said. He said it was a fluke thing, and even when it happened again, the doctor said he still couldn't find anything—”

“
What
happened?”

“It was silly, almost,” Lydia said, though Elizabeth could hardly imagine anything that required a doctor to be considered “silly.” “I took George with me on an errand to Meryton and he wandered off. It was his first time alone in Town, so I suppose it was all distracting, but when I found him in a bookstore, he was sitting on a chair, and the owner was giving him tea and said he had fainted.”

“From what?”

“
We don't know
. Didn't I already say that?” Lydia rolled her eyes. “Apparently, there were a lot of people there, and the shopkeeper finally noticed this little boy with nobody by his side, and so he went up to him and asked him who he was, and George just collapsed. He was only out for a few seconds, but he had a little bump on his head for a while from the floor, and so I asked Papa, and we called a doctor, who said he wasn't sick. But if we had a
little money—
”

“What did George say?”

Lydia looked at her as if the question was bizarre. “He's a child, Lizzy.”

“I know that, but surely you asked him if something was troubling him? If he had a headache?”

“Oh, of course the doctor asked him all kinds of questions, but he said he didn't feel ill. He just looked up at the shopkeeper, and then the next thing he remembered he was on the floor. But the doctor couldn't find anything wrong with him, and I almost forgot about the whole thing until it happened again.”

“When?” Elizabeth said, trying to maintain her composure. She had never been close with the Wickhams for obvious reasons, but George was her nephew on both sides, and Darcy cared enough about him to set up a fund to make sure the boy would not have to worry about money when he came of age.

“I don't know, a few weeks later. We were at church, and you know how Papa always hurries home. I decided to stay and chat for once. Some new people had come to the parsonage, and I wanted to meet them—some of them were very handsome—and I had George with me because he didn't want to leave me. Isabel was with Mama. In the crowd, someone said something to George, and out he went. Fortunately it was on the grass—you know that area in front of the churchyard? It wasn't as bad of a bump this time, hardly anything at all.”

“But you saw it this time.”

“Yes. But he didn't want to talk about it. He didn't want to see the doctor, but Papa wouldn't hear of it, and so the doctor came and said he couldn't find a reason. It wasn't fits, and George doesn't have headaches, so he's not
sick
.”

“And since then?”

“Well, he hasn't been out much. Certainly I'm not going to take him to Meryton if he's going to complain the whole time that he doesn't want to go—”

“Lydia,” Elizabeth interrupted again, holding her tongue about Lydia's parenting skills, or the inappropriateness of using church to socialize with the new men in town, “if it happens again, I would like to know. And for the record, if you did not have Papa, we would pay for the doctor.”

“But Mr. Darcy has been so stingy in the past—”

“About clothing for you, yes, but not about this. This is your son's health. Our nephew's health.” She added, “Thank you for telling me.”

The topic extinguished, Lydia began to chat about the goings-on in Meryton, but Elizabeth heard very little.

***

As Lydia was shown to her rooms and unpacked, Elizabeth had a spare moment to herself and had her tea reheated so she could finally enjoy it. She was beginning to relax when Lord and Lady Matlock entered, taking a break from keeping their mother company. “Are we interrupting?”

“No, please,” she said. “My sister Lydia has just arrived. I'm sure she will be making her presence known soon enough. At least Geoffrey has someone to play with—if that is a good idea.” She needed to tell someone—unburden herself. She told them of Lydia's minor tirade.

She turned to Fitzwilliam, but he had only a concerned look on his face, like something was bothering him. “Colo—Lord Richard?”

“I was just—remembering something. It is probably unrelated. After all, Master George is only Darcy's
half-
nephew, so—”

Instinctual alarm rising, Elizabeth immediately said, “What is it?”

“It's uhm—well, I can't say I remember it perfectly, but I do remember something about a fainting spell of Darcy's—when he was younger.” He frowned. “I must have only been seven or eight at the time, so you will excuse me, but—Yes! Now I remember.”

“We are all ears, Richard,” Anne said before Elizabeth had to, obviously sensing her trepidation.

“It was—I don't know the year. I must have been about eight, Darcy four or five. I remember I was in Town with my parents and brother. At the time they were more regular theater patrons and had a box or two, and so we were often in Town. But this was something like the first time the young Darcy—well, Master Fitzwilliam—came to Town with his father, who had some business. We knew each other from Rosings, but not that well. Lady Anne was still alive, and so she visited, and we played together in the house in the square. But then a few days into the trip, something happened, and the Darcys went home, and I remember it because I was a little disappointed at losing a playmate, even if he was younger than me, because my brother was in his teens and ignoring me.” A sad look passed over his face at the mention of his late brother, but he managed to continue, “What happened was, apparently—Darcy was walking with his mother on the road, I think they were going to see the royal gardens, and Darcy fainted. There was a great fuss over it, of course. They called for all kinds of doctors, but they said it was exhaustion, and he was stuck in bed for a few days. I came to visit, and he complained about not being tired, but his nurse wouldn't let him up. But he seemed fine, so they very cautiously let him out again, this time with his nurse accompanying Lady Anne.