With My Whole Heart Forever Page 16

  “Yes, sir.” She followed his instructions.

  He sat in an uncomfortable wooden chair on the visitor’s side of the desk. “I have purchased an estate in Hertfordshire from a relation who was not fit to be a landowner. It is my understanding the main house has been left empty for some time. I require a butler, housekeeper, and the usual staff to make it ready for occupancy. My sister and I will go there as soon as possible, so I may oversee the repairs to the estate.”

  As Darcy crossed one leg over the other, the chair creaked loudly under his weight. Quickly placing both feet on the ground, he wondered if it might collapse.

  Mrs. Baker’s expression seemed to be a mixture of embarrassment and amusement.

  “Something must be done about this chair. Perhaps a carpenter could strengthen it. It should also be upholstered. If it cannot be repaired, it will have to be replaced.”

  “Yes, Mr. Darcy. Thank you, sir. I will call in someone to look at it today.”

  “Good.” Satisfied, he could now concentrate. He continued, “I understand the estate where Mrs. Reynolds’s sister was housekeeper was closed after the master passed away, and Mrs. Curtis is looking for employment. Do you happen to know where she is staying now?”

  “Yes, sir. We had tea just yesterday, during my afternoon off.” She hesitated. “I believe her husband held the position of butler at Grand Hall, as well. It is my understanding that after Grand Hall was closed, she and her husband came to live with their daughter in London whilst looking for new positions.”

  “Excellent. Contact Mrs. Curtis immediately. I have heard a great deal about them both, and all of it good. I also attended a ball at Grand Hall two years back, where I met her husband. By all accounts, the manor house at Netherfield Park is a bit smaller, but it will require a great deal of work. If they are interested, have them both come to see me tomorrow before I begin interviews for the companion position. You have my schedule?”

  “Yes, Mr. Darcy.”

  He nodded. As he rose, the chair groaned. “Do not forget about this chair, Mrs. Baker.”

  “Yes, sir. I will send a note to the carpenter immediately after I contact Mrs. Curtis.”

  “Good.”

  All was proceeding as planned.

  ~ Friday, 21 September 1811

  Wickham rearranged his features, plastering on his most understanding expression. “I’m sure we can come to some arrangement.” He looked over to the only man who had still not paid what he owed, focusing on the substantial gold ring on his right hand. “What about that?”

  The man blanched. He couldn’t remember the man’s name, only that he was an earl’s son. Really, his name mattered not. If he didn’t pay up, he’d either get good and bloodied, or he’d get himself an unmarked grave, depending on how drunk Wickham became in the interim.

  “I cannot use my signet ring to pay a debt. It is engraved with my family crest.”

  “Why should I care? It was not I who bet an amount I did not have. I’m sure it will fetch a nice price when the crest is melted off of it.”

  Wickham grinned wickedly. It was only luck that he won this time. In most games of chance, he never hesitated to bet money he did not actually have.

  The man shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I cannot give up my ring.” He mopped sweat off his brow, then his eyes opened wide with realization. “What about my commission? My father just purchased a lieutenancy for me.” He unfolded his wallet and pulled out a document.

  Wickham raised one eyebrow. “Younger son, eh?”

  The man nodded. “It is worth more than I owe you.”

  Even though Wickham just won a big pot, the way he spent money, he knew his gains wouldn’t last long. Besides, Darcy’s men were crawling all over Derbyshire looking for him. He’d managed to avoid them by pure luck and sticking to the seedier inns and taverns of the county, but it wouldn’t be long before they found him. It would be best to leave the area for a while.

  A steady income, regular meals, and a clean place to sleep sounded nice for a change, at least until he got bored, but… “The Regulars?”

  If so, there was no way he’d accept it. The risk of fighting the French was nothing compared to that of running into Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam. Wickham stifled a shudder.

  Darcy had never been violent, but Wickham and Richard had engaged in fisticuffs on several occasions in the past. The last time they’d seen each other, it took some time before Wickham healed completely. After what he’d done at Ramsgate, who knew what Richard would do to him if they met?

  If he never saw Richard Fitzwilliam again, it would be too soon.

  The man shook his head. “Not the Regulars — Militia. I am due to report to Hertfordshire next week.”

  He aimed a hard stare at the man as he thought. Darcy would never look for him in Hertfordshire, let alone the militia. Richard had no pull in the militia, as far as he knew anyway. Still, it’d be best to use his mother’s maiden name, just in case.

  Leaning forward, Wickham tapped his finger on the paper. “Sign it over to George Drake.”

  The man nodded nervously. “Fine.”

  They shook on it.

  Wickham stood and paced while the barmaid fetched ink and a quill.

  Once their transaction was complete, Wickham smiled with satisfaction.

  Tomorrow, to Hertfordshire he would go.

  Darcy looked at his sister. Ana nodded. He turned back to the couple sitting in front of his desk.

  “Mrs. Curtis, Mr. Curtis, the positions of housekeeper and butler at Netherfield Park are yours if you want them. I will leave it up to you to hire your staff. Speak to Mrs. Baker about setting aside a room to interview people here at Darcy House. If you have favourites among the staff at your recent post, and they are willing to relocate, feel free to hire them. It will save some time. I wish to move in as soon as possible.”

  They both agreed and recommended the steward from their former place of employment.

  He dismissed them to Mrs. Baker’s care, who also let Darcy and Ana know that the first companion applicant had arrived for her interview.

  “Wait five minutes and have her sent in.”

  Once the door closed, Ana said, “I am glad you hired Mr. and Mrs. Curtis. I have heard so much about them from Mrs. Reynolds; it is almost as if they were already part of our family.”

  He rubbed a hand across his face. “This is going to be a very long day, Dove. If you are not up to several meetings in a row, I can make the decision for you.”

  She shook her head. “I am of an age where I should learn how to conduct interviews, Brother. Besides, I would like to have some say in who is hired as my companion.”

  This slight display of independence was refreshing. It was a beginning, a sign that Ana really was healing and also that she was growing up.

  Thank God for Elizabeth’s influence. If not for her, he did not think this would have happened for a long while.

  A bit startled, he blinked rapidly. When did I begin to think of her as Elizabeth and not Miss Bennet?

  “Additionally,” Ana said, “I do not wish to turn what I said to Lizzy into a lie.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “When she first wrote, she asked me to come and stay at Longbourn with her for several weeks. I said I would not be able to visit at this time since I would be involved with interviewing for my companion.” She blushed. “I did not want to tell her we were soon moving in next door and spoil the surprise.”

  “Good thinking, Dove.”

  A knock on the door pulled him away from the thought. “Just a moment.”

  He put away the notes he had made as they spoke to Mr. and Mrs. Curtis and took from another drawer the list of questions he and Ana agreed would be appropriate to ask all the prospective companions. He took out a clean sheet of paper so he could make notes about each candidate as they conversed.

  He turned to Ana and said, “And so it begins,” then called out, “Enter!”

  CHAPTER 18
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  ~ Wednesday, 25 September 1811

  As Elizabeth and three of her sisters entered the village of Meryton to do some shopping, Kitty and Lydia spied four of the officers they had told her about. The Lieutenants were walking with a man in layman’s clothing.

  Lydia shouted, “Denny!”

  Jane whispered, “Lydia. Calling out to the officers is not appropriate behaviour for a lady.”

  Lydia giggled and rolled her eyes.

  The officers turned, smiled, and waved.

  Lydia looked both ways and dashed across the lane. Kitty followed close behind her.

  Jane looked at Elizabeth with wide eyes. Elizabeth frowned and gestured that they should follow their young sisters across the street. She was hopeful between the two of them, they could rein in Kitty’s and Lydia’s behaviour.

  At least Lydia had the manners to introduce the officers to Elizabeth, who had never met any of them. She sneezed, causing her to miss the name of the only man in plain clothes when he was introduced. She would have to ask Jane later.

  The one named Denny said, “We came to the village to show our friend around after being measured for his uniforms. He has just joined the regiment.”

  Elizabeth sneezed again. The irritation in her nose continued, so she pulled out her handkerchief. The breeze picked up, bringing with it the scent of cloves mixed with almonds.

  Oh! Her stomach dropped. The only time she had ever detected that particular combination of scents was outside the Harvest Ball.

  She stifled a gasp. It could not be!

  She examined all the officers. The imposter at Pemberley had been wearing a mask, so it would be difficult to recognise him, but she had seen a small portrait of Wickham drawn when he was in his early teen years. Mrs. Reynolds even allowed her to study it so that she could avoid him if their paths ever crossed.

  Even still, she could not determine if the one whose name she had missed was the same man, though it heightened her awareness of him since he seemed to be avoiding her gaze.

  He was not as tall as Mr. Darcy, but while most of the officers were standing straight and tall, he seemed to be slumping. None of the men had the same soft curls that Mr. Darcy had, either, but the new officer’s hair was cropped so short, she could not tell if his hair was straight or otherwise. A glance at his sideburns helped her to determine that his hair was of a similar colour to Mr. Darcy’s.

  If Wickham was one of these men, it had to be this one.

  She had heard the man speak earlier when Lydia mentioned he would be very handsome when he got his red coat. Elizabeth had not recognised his voice, but she was confident the man who accosted her at Pemberley had been trying to imitate Mr. Darcy’s speech. Later, when he spoke again, he was angry, which could have changed the timbre of his voice. She had never heard Wickham speak in his normal pitch.

  The only thing Elizabeth knew that if this was Wickham, she might be in danger. Her sisters should avoid him, too, as well as all the young ladies in the area.

  She had to find out if the man was Wickham!

  Elizabeth slowly moved around the crowd and turned to look at something in the window of the millinery shop. The man was immediately behind her now. Catching a stronger whiff of cloves, she sneezed.

  In the window’s reflection, she could see the man turn around. She faced him and could have sworn she saw a bit of anxiety in his eyes, but it was quickly blinked away.

  This was her chance. “Lieutenant, from where do you hail?”

  He cleared his throat. “The Drake family is from Staffordshire, Miss Elizabeth.”

  She nodded. Her name rolled off his tongue in such a way she had to force down a shudder.

  So, his name was not Wickham, or at least that is what he said.

  Were there people of questionable character who would make up new identity papers for a price? In the seedier areas of London, perhaps. She imagined no one at the regiment would suspect false documents, so they would not be looking for them.

  However, she certainly could not accuse him of such a thing! Especially when she was so uncertain about his identity. No. She would have to continue to watch him closely.

  She said, “And how have you found Hertfordshire so far, Mr. Drake?”

  “I only arrived yesterday afternoon, but so far, I have found the people of Meryton to be warm and welcoming.”

  Elizabeth nodded.

  He took a step closer and opened his mouth to say something, but again, she sneezed.

  Goodness, had he splashed on an entire pot of cologne this morning? No wonder she had been able to detect his scent from across the crowd. With him so close now, her nose was stinging badly. She had to get away from him, else she would be sneezing all day.

  Thankfully, Lieutenant Denny looked at his watch and said they were expected to return to their camp.

  Mr. Drake said to the group, “Ladies, I will see you soon, I’m sure.” He bowed elegantly and leaned towards Lydia. “The next time we meet, I promise I’ll be in uniform.” He chuckled.

  Lydia and Kitty giggled and watched the officers swagger down the street. Jane tried to call their attention to a new bonnet in the store window. Kitty turned to look, but Lydia continued watching the men until after Denny turned around and waved once again.

  “Denny is my favourite officer at the moment,” Lydia said, “but Saunderson is the son of a baronet. How well Lady Lydia would sound!” She grabbed Kitty’s hand. “Which one shall I make fall in love with me?”

  “I wonder if Mr. Drake’s family is titled,” Kitty said dreamily.

  A neighbour, Mrs. Nichols, stepped through the shop door, raised her eyebrows at Lydia and Kitty, harrumphed, and kept walking.

  Lydia and Kitty laughed loudly.

  “Girls, please!” Jane exclaimed quietly. “If you must speak on this subject, do so on our way home when we are alone.” She nodded to the door to the milliner’s shop and walked through it.

  Good choice, Jane! Elizabeth thought. With so many new hats on display, their silly sisters would be distracted from thinking of the officers, at least for a few minutes.

  The girls did their shopping, visited their Aunt Phillips for a quarter of an hour, and headed home. Kitty and Lydia moved on ahead, probably wishing to speak about the officers outside of their older sisters’ hearing.

  Elizabeth asked, “Have they been acting this way since the regiment moved to Hertfordshire?”

  Jane nodded. “They are… enthusiastic about the subject. As is our mother.”

  If their mother was encouraging them, nothing Jane, Elizabeth, or Mary said would matter.

  Elizabeth sighed. “There is something about Lieutenant Drake that I do not like.”

  She almost told Jane what she suspected, but she had no proof. Additionally, she could be imagining things. In truth, she knew absolutely nothing about Mr. Drake. It would sound ridiculous if she said that he smelled like the man who accosted her in Derbyshire. Jane did not even know about that incident, for Elizabeth had not wished to worry her.

  Jane touched her sleeve.

  “What is it, Jane?”

  “You did not answer when I asked what you did not like about Mr. Drake.”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “I am sorry, Jane. I was lost in thought. I cannot explain it; it is just… I do not trust him.”

  Jane frowned but remained silent.

  Elizabeth continued, “My instinct is to warn Kitty and Lydia away from him, but we both know very well that doing so would cause them to chase after him with greater vigour.”

  “Perhaps you should talk to Papa about him?”

  Elizabeth thought about it. There must be hundreds of men in England who wore the same scent as Wickham, and thousands more who had, by a chance of nature, a similar shade of hair.

  Oh, her thoughts were unfair to the poor man!

  Was she to spend her entire life assuming all men who wore the same cologne had malevolent intentions? What had Mr. Drake done other than having bad taste when choosin
g his scent?

  If she spoke to her father about this, he would laugh at her explanation and say she was even sillier than her sisters. There was a good chance he would be right.

  “Let us keep a closer watch on them whenever they are with the officers and see how events unfold.”

  ~ Friday, 27 September 1811

  At the turnoff, Darcy’s heart pounded. He slowed his horse to a stop.

  The drive was not long, and he was able to see the manor house from here. It was small, but well-maintained — at least from what he could see from the road.

  No wonder Elizabeth had seemed overwhelmed when she first arrived at Pemberley. Longbourn was about as large as only one wing of his home.

  Most women he knew would have been examining every room with a critical eye and planning what she would do with it if she was able to convince Darcy to marry her. Such was not the case with Elizabeth. She had been in awe of the place and treated each room with such respect it approached reverence. There was always an underlying air of wonder about her every time they took her to a new chamber. In fact, her reactions renewed his appreciation of his home. He wondered if Ana had felt the same.

  “Is something wrong, Darcy?” his friend Charles Bingley asked. “Is this Netherfield?”

  “No. This is Longbourn. I – I know someone who lives here.”

  “Too bad, as it is too early to call.”

  Darcy nodded but continued to stare at Longbourn, hoping to see the door open. Calling upon her without his sister present would certainly not be proper.

  Looking over the portion of grounds he could see from here, he wondered if she was already out walking. She did say she went out before the remainder of her family awakened. Apparently, her favourite path led to the border between Longbourn and Netherfield.

  If he came across her by happenstance, it would not be improper to stop and greet her, would it?

  He imagined her surprise upon seeing him. She would say his name and smile, her eyes sparkling. He would drink in the sight of her like a man who had not had water in days, eagerly jump down from his horse, and bow. Elizabeth would make her curtsy in her elegant manner. Then he would offer his arm. As they strolled on so she could show him her favourite place in all the world, she would tell him everything that had occurred in her life since he last saw her. Her voice, her laughter would be a balm to his soul.