Mr. Darcy's Forbidden Love-kindle (12 page)

“Help me dress! I have someone important to call on this morning.” The maid bobbed her head and started to the closet. “Never mind! I shall select my gown. You shall assist me in dressing.” 

The young maid, her third in as many months, stopped in her tracks, too afraid to speak.  Gisela was caught up in her own thoughts and did not notice the maid’s discomfiture. With a smug smile, she walked to the large closet, and slowly began examining the long line of expensive gowns hanging inside. Something mundane would never do for a call on Darcy House.

I shall try once more to talk to my arrogant husband. After all, though Fitzwilliam may hate me, I enjoy reminding him why he can never divorce me.

Finally, she pulled a burgundy gown, cut very low with sequins across the entire bodice, from the assortment. It might have been fashioned for a night at the opera, but she wanted to make an impression and this gown would definitely do that. After all, she mused, Darcy very seldom saw her when she was dressed opulently. She reached for one of her more modest wraps, intending to wear it over the gown and dazzle him when she removed it.

Luckily, as Gisela laid the gown on the bed, she did not see the stunned look on Jemima’s face. Her former employer, a great lady who had expired recently, would never have worn such a gown in broad daylight. She stifled a smile.

Lady Gisela Darcy may have a good deal of wealth, but she obviously has no taste!

~~~*~~~

Darcy House
William’s Study

Lord Landingham stood at the tall windows, taking in the view of the gardens as he enjoyed an expensive cigar. Every so often, he shook his head in agreement with the proposed settlement that William was reading. Finally he turned and marched back towards the desk.

“I do not care how you want to handle it, Fitzwilliam. One way is as good as another, and I trust your men to replace the fence along the correct property lines. Besides,” Lord Marshall Landingham smiled mischievously, “if your men do the work, then I shall not have to pay my men to do it.”

William laughed aloud at his godfather’s remark, then relaxed back in his chair to study the tall, distinguished, grey-haired man that had been like a second father to him. “I suppose I was too quick to offer to manage the problem. The next time I shall wait for you to propose a settlement!”

“Now you sound like your father!” Landingham’s smile waned as he offered sadly, “I miss George… and Anne.”

William’s countenance darkened. “Yes. I miss them more each day. Just take this matter, for instance. If he had been here, Father would have known what to do instinctively without dragging you into Town to discuss it.”

“Nonsense! I had business in London, and as you could not leave, it worked out well for me to come to you! Besides, you handled everything admirably, my boy!” Landingham declared with his usual enthusiasm for whatever William did. “George could not have done a better job of settling the tenant’s dispute, and I have thirty years as your nearest neighbour to support my claim.”

William tossed the pen he had been fiddling with onto the desk. “Without your valuable counsel the first year after Father died, I think I would have gone mad!”

“I think not! But rest assured that I will always be available if you need me. I believe, however, that you have learned your lessons so well that my services may never again be required—at least, in regard to estate management.”  At the pleased look on William’s face, Landingham changed the subject.  “I know you do not like to speak of it, but I cannot help but wonder...”

William coloured, knowing the direction the conversation would take, as Landingham had always played the role of mentor and counsellor. He had taken in his altered appearance when he first entered the study, and Landingham could not have failed to note how much weight William had lost or the new worry lines around his eyes. Other than his best friends, Richard and Charles, the earl was the only person that knew of Gisela’s threat to reveal that Georgiana was not a Darcy. And like his true friends, Landingham could always tell when he had slipped into a quiet desperation. “Wonder?”

“Have you reconsidered what we talked of … about telling Georgiana?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

“I feel I cannot take the chance of telling her about her father until I know his identity. I have paid too high a price to keep her from learning of that scoundrel’s role, and I want to wait until she is older and wiser.”

Landingham’s face fell at William’s description of Georgiana’s father.  “Fitzwilliam, I was acquainted with your mother from the time she was just a child. I knew her well enough to know that she would not have taken up with a scoundrel. She was a true lady, and if she sought comfort in another man’s arms, then it had to have been someone she cared about and trusted.”

William stood and walked around to the front of his desk, where he stopped and leaned back on the edge. Cupping his chin with one hand, he considered Landingham’s words.

“You are correct. My mother would not have turned to anyone she did not respect, but I will NEVER respect the man who took advantage of her distress.”

Landingham looked away. Since William had confided in him about the letter Gisela held over his head, he had wanted to be honest with his godson about his love affair with Anne Darcy. But he was only too aware that William had much responsibility resting on his shoulders and little family he could trust for advice. As it was, William sought his counsel often, and if he must keep the fact that he was Georgiana’s father a secret a while longer, he would, if only for the young man’s sake. As all of these thoughts were running through his mind, William began to elaborate.

“I suppose I speak of him in that manner because it is easier to blame him than my mother. Yet you know as well as I that there is no certainty that I shall ever learn his identity. And if I tell Georgiana what I suspect—that she is not a Darcy—she will be heartbroken! And how could she ever recover without knowing her true father’s identity?”

Landingham stood and put an arm around William’s shoulder. When he was in the young man’s company, it was never far from his mind that, but for a quirk of fate, he could have been William’s father. As it was, Anne Fitzwilliam was the woman he had fallen in love with as a boy, and after she declined his offer and accepted George Darcy, he had never married.

“I support whatever you decide, but I cannot fathom how any young man can stay with a woman he despises—a woman who has trapped him into marriage. It must be very hard not to notice a pretty face or to ignore a young woman to which you might feel an attraction.”

The look of pain that crossed William’s face was not lost on his counsellor. “Fitzwilliam, is there something I should know?”

William’s eyes dropped to his shoes. “There is nothing to tell. I met a young woman I believe I could have loved, but she is lost to me.”

“I am sorry. Anne spoke to me often before she died of her belief that you had married Gisela for the wrong reasons, though she had no way of knowing the truth. She would not have wanted you to sacrifice yourself. You realise that.”

“I can only pray that, because she never learned about Gisela’s affair with Father, she was at least not tormented with that humiliation before she died. If so, I accomplished what I set out to do.”

“I understand that she never knew that Gisela was supposedly carrying a child when you married.”

“No, she did not. I forbade Gisela from telling her, as mother was so sick.”

Landingham squeezed William’s shoulder. “While I did not agree with the method you chose, your love for your mother is admirable. You are truly the man she hoped you would be.”

“It is kind of you to say.”

“No. It is not kind, it is the truth. And there are no words to describe the witch that has ensnared you—first with her lie about the child and then with the letter.”  William nodded but did not speak, so Landingham offered, “Shall we speak of more pleasant things? When is Lady Audrey expected back from Bath with Georgiana?”

William’s face brightened. “In two days.”

“Good. Good. I shall extend my stay in Town so that I may escort them to the theatre and the opera while they are here, if you do not mind.”

“Of course, you may, if they are willing. What I cannot discern is whether you are fonder of my aunt or my sister.” William could not pass up the chance to tease his friend, as Landingham and Audrey Ashcroft had become fast friends after she moved to Pemberley two years before.

Landingham was not perturbed. “I am quite fond of Georgiana, being her godfather as well as yours, and your aunt has, shall we say, grown on me.”

Thinking of his aunt’s impertinent ways, William chucked. “Yes, she is not easily understood at first acquaintance. Mother always referred to her as a
whirligig
—always animated, especially when she is explaining something, and never staying in one place long.”

“I remember that now that you mention it. She was so much younger than Anne that I did not know her well. Then she married and moved to Kent. It was not until she moved to Pemberley to help you with Georgiana that I actually got well acquainted with her. She is quite different than any woman I have ever met—even outspoken and brash when the occasion warrants!”

“I see you have not forgotten Aunt Audrey’s altercation with Aunt Catherine when she came to Pemberley after mother died.”

“I shall NEVER forget that day! I believe I stood open-mouthed for several minutes after she had Lady Catherine escorted off the grounds of Pemberley! I will admit to being in shock at seeing the two lock horns, but at least the more rational sister won the day.”

“Yes, she did. I will forever be grateful to Aunt Audrey for telling Aunt Catherine that Georgiana most certainly would not live at Rosings. I would never have allowed it to happen under any circumstances, but having my aunt living at Pemberley countered any argument for taking Georgiana away from me.”

“I think that is when I first began to see that there was more to Lady Audrey Ashcroft than meets the eye. Yes, she is quite a lovely woman, but she is also a woman to be reckoned with.”

“That she is,” William chuckled. “Definitely not a shrinking violet.”

“Well, let me leave and get about my business so you and your steward can finish what I interrupted.”

Before William could object, Lord Landingham disappeared out the door and Mr. Albritton reappeared out of nowhere with folders in hand. William shook his head at how fast his steward had determined that Landingham was gone.

“Sit down, Mr. Albritton, and let us see what we can get done before we are disturbed again.”

~~~*~~~

A few minutes later

Lord Landingham had barely left Darcy House when there was a knock at the front door and a newly-hired footman opened it to find Gisela Darcy standing there, smiling benignly. Not being aware of just who was and who was not welcome, the footman dutifully stepped aside as she pushed past him. However, she was not quick enough to dodge Mr. Barnes, who immediately blocked her progress. He noted that she smelled of brandy.

“Madam, I must ask you to leave.”

Gisela dropped the modest wrap to reveal her very low-cut burgundy gown. “Nonsense! I am here to speak to my husband.  Either he speaks to me inside these walls, or I shall wait on his doorstep and accost him when he leaves—in public!”

Mr. Barnes sighed and glanced at the footman who still held the door open, his eyes large as saucers. “Brigham, shut the door then see that Mrs. Darcy does not move from this spot.”

Brigham slammed the door in his eagerness to please and hurriedly moved to stand in front of the flamboyantly dressed woman, his face expressionless, as he had been trained.

As Mr. Barnes continued to address his employer’s estranged wife, the tone of his voice was evidence of his disdain. “I shall tell Mr. Darcy that you are here.”

With those words, he turned and walked toward William’s study, occasionally glancing over his shoulder to make sure that Gisela Darcy had not followed.

A knock on the door tore William’s attention from the paper he was reading as his steward, Mr. Albritton, waited patiently for him to finish.  “Come!”

The door opened and Mr. Barnes’ head appeared before his body followed. Glancing first at Mr. Albritton, his eyes met William’s. “Sir, Mrs. Darcy is in the foyer. Our newest footman was unaware of who she is, so she walked right past him. I am sorry.”

William signed and rubbed his eyes before standing and addressing his steward. “Wait here. I shall return shortly.”  Mr. Albritton nodded—his expression confirmation that he was quite used to Mr. Darcy’s estranged wife’s antics and he pitied the young man.

As William came down the hall followed by Barnes, the delight on Gisela’s face was unmistakable. She tried to walk on into the house, only to be stopped by the large body of Mr. Brigham.

“All is well, Brigham,” Mr. Barnes declared. “Let her pass.”

Gisela walked around the footman with a smirk on her face, the expression increasing as she saw how irritated William appeared. 

“Fitzwilliam! So good of you to take time out of your busy schedule to see me.”

Without answering her, William took her elbow and not too gently pulled her into the drawing room and closed the door behind them. Slowly she looked about as if admiring the lovely room. William seethed.

No longer able to keep silent, he declared, “Why are you here? Have you already gone through your allowance? If you are here for more money, the answer is no!”

Gisela immediately moved to press herself against William, running her hands suggestively over his chest. Disgusted and smelling the brandy on her breath, he pushed her to arm’s length.

“My, my, we
are
irritable!” she exclaimed. “I have no need for more funds. I only came to deliver some good news.” William said nothing. Disappointed but undeterred, she continued, “I just wanted you to know that I am going to vote with you on Lady Catherine’s request for another loan regarding our joint venture. Her plans to fund more repairs for Strathmore Mill have been thwarted.”