Christmas at Pemberley (50 page)

He had properly proposed to Georgiana, and she had accepted
. That thought had played through his mind all evening, and in his dream he'd gathered her into his arms and had taken a long, leisurely drink of her lips. His lips had skirted her neck's slender column, and he had kissed along the shoulder blade. But then the tapping had started in the back of his brain and had rattled him out of that exquisite moment. “Coming,” he grumbled as he reached for the door's handle. “What the…” he cursed as he jerked open the door. His sleep-induced brain half-expected to find Southland or another officer on his threshold, or even to face his cousin's angry countenance. The appearance of Darcy's butler jolted Edward alert. “Mr. Nathan?”

“Forgive me, Colonel, this just came for you by special courier, Sir.The messenger was from Carlton House.” Mr. Nathan extended the silver salver upon which the note rested. He reverently bowed as Edward reached for the heavily waxed paper.

Edward lifted the enveloped “orders” from the tray. Shaken by the possibilities, he warned the butler, “Tell no one of this, Mr. Nathan. I'll inform Mr. Darcy of its contents in the morning.”

“As you wish, Colonel.” The butler bowed out and closed the door.

Edward took the message to the desk to break the seal. He found a taper and lit it from the fireplace embers. Then he stirred the coal and added more to warm the room before lighting a branch from that first single candle. “What are you avoiding?” he chastised himself as he straightened the bed's linens. He knew exactly what he eschewed: News from Carlton House meant his letter to Elphinstone had drawn the Prince Regent's notice. “It might be something worth knowing,” he reasoned aloud.

Accepting the inevitable, Edward brought the folded pages to the bed. First plumping up the pillows and crawling under the blankets, he took the opener he had retrieved from the desk drawer and broke the seal. Silently, his lips read the words that could change everything. “I knew something didn't make sense,” he grumbled. “Damn! Darcy will kill me.”

THE DARCY HOUSEHOLD AWOKE to the preparations for the evening's scheduled event. The decorations had transformed the stables and the attached barn into a country assembly hall. Garlands and wreaths hung from the rafters, creating a winter marvel, smelling of aromatic greenery.Although Christmas Day had passed, the community overlooked the still-evident mistletoe balls. They would be put to good use by many of the local tenants and the village girls. Trestle tables held food platters and lemonade bowls. Ale kegs ensured that refreshments would flow freely.

“Good morning, Mr. Nathan,” Darcy said as he strolled through the main hallway. “Is everything in place for this evening?”

“Mrs. Reynolds reports no problems, Sir. I'll have Thomas move the small desk to the stable entrance after breakfast.”

Darcy smiled with satisfaction. He would continue a tradition begun by his father: Two hours before the celebration started, he would “hold court.” He would listen to disputes and petitions by his tenants and the local shopkeepers. Some asked for small loans; others asked for justice. He would hear all comers and exact reasonableness as he saw fit. He gave some requests credence; others he denied. “Excellent,” he said. “I'll join Mrs. Darcy in the morning room.”

 

He strode into breakfast feeling the contentment of having Elizabeth truly happy for a change. Even the stress of Mrs. Joseph's early
delivery and of returning home to an eclectic guest mix hadn't lessened her sparkle. She'd always risen to the occasion. In reflection, he wondered if he and his staff had erred by giving Elizabeth too much time to recover from her losses.
Perhaps, she simply needed to involve herself in life rather than to dwell on death.

“Good morning, Mrs. Darcy.” He caught her hand and brought the back of it to his lips. “I hope you slept well.”

Elizabeth smiled brightly at him. It was part of the flirtatious nature of their relationship. He knew exactly how his wife had slept. Other than the few occasions upon which he had spent a day or two away from the estate on business, Elizabeth had shared his bed since their wedding night. “Exquisitely so, my husband. And you?” she asked coyly.

“Excellent, my dear.” They had made love twice last evening. Once when she had tempted him with her new gown and once after he presented her with the last of her Christmas gifts. Darcy winked at her. “Mr. Nathan reports everything is on schedule.”

“As does Mrs. Reynolds,” his wife informed him. “The good lady and Georgiana organized some of the guests to assist in the decorating. Mrs. Bingley, my father, Mr. Grange, and Mary were of use in achieving tonight's success.”

“I will express my gratitude,” he assured. A slight movement to his left caught his attention, and Darcy turned his head to find his cousin standing solemnly by the door. “Edward?” He recognized the colonel's agitation. Darcy prayed his cousin hadn't had second thoughts: It would break Georgiana's heart, and Darcy wouldn't have it. He hadn't resigned himself to the match, but he wouldn't stand by idly and see his sister hurt.

“If you've had your breakfast, Fitz,” Edward said gravely, “I would speak to you privately.”

Darcy felt Elizabeth tense. “I'll send a tray to your study,” she said softly.

Darcy offered a curt nod and turned to where his cousin waited. Neither man spoke as they wove their way through the
bustling hallways. Not until the door closed solidly behind them did either even breathe. “If you wish to withdraw your suit, Edward,” Darcy began, but an incredulous look from his cousin cut Darcy's threat short.

“My regard for your sister remains, but you may have second thoughts in giving your approval when you discover my news.” Edward maintained a serious mien.

Darcy gestured to their usual chairs. “Let us discuss your news.”

Edward sighed. “I've delivered possible scandal to your doorstep, Cousin. I ask your forgiveness in advance.” Edward sank heavily into his favorite chair.

Darcy took his seat behind the desk and sat forward. “Suppose you start at the beginning.”

For the next few minutes, the colonel explained what had occurred, including the previous night's delivery.

“From the Regent himself, you say?” Darcy questioned.

“Evidently Prince George trusted no one else,” Edward said. A light tap at the door signaled the arrival of their breakfasts. “I'll see to the tray; you read the letter.” Edward rose and handed Darcy the refolded missive.

The footman placed the tray on a table and then bowed from the room. “My Goodness—what a tangled web we weave,” Darcy murmured as he set the letter to the side. “The question is what we choose to do next.”

“We have to find what the Regent seeks. If we delay, Prince George will send armed men to Pemberley's door,” Edward observed.

“That's just what we need,” Darcy grumbled. “A few more unaccounted-for guests.”

Edward handed Darcy a filled plate. “Can we solve this before Matlock is tainted by association?”

Darcy smiled cynically. “Of course, we can do what is necessary, but I'd prefer not to use force when we have a houseful of ladies.” He leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers on his lap.“Obviously, Lady Catherine won't be happy when she discovers the
truth, and she'll quickly inform the Earl. We need to devise a way to solve the Regent's dilemma before everything escapes Pemberley's control.” He tapped his fingers against his chin. “I planned the perfect Christmastide for my wife. Little did I know that God and Country had their own plans.”

Darcy found Southland and Manneville in the billiards room. “May I join you?” he asked as he casually shed his jacket and reached for his favorite cue stick.

“We play for sixpence,” Southland warned as he lined up his next shot.

Darcy smiled easily. “I can afford a half shilling.” He stepped out of their way as the men finished their game. While Southland ran the table, Darcy carefully watched both men. The lieutenant was not a man he would've chosen for Anne, but he was pleased that his cousin had found someone, at last. “I didn't properly welcome you to the family, Southland,” he drawled.

The lieutenant looked up after completing his shot. “Thank you, Mr. Darcy. I'll do my best to bring honor to the De Bourgh connection.”

“That won't be easy,” Manneville taunted.

The man's attitude set Darcy's senses on edge. “Why do you say that?” He forced evenness into his tone.

Manneville said matter-of-factly, “Her Ladyship is accustomed to having her own way.”

Darcy's eyebrow rose in curiosity. “What woman is not?” he asked as a challenge.

Manneville rested his cue stick against his side. “I beg your pardon, Darcy, but your aunt is more formidable than most women.”

“Miss De Bourgh says Her Ladyship has always been resilient. That Lady Catherine needed to complement Sir Lewis's weaknesses,” Southland defended his future family.

Darcy would prefer to turn the conversation. He would need to
speak privately with Southland regarding what to divulge in public, but for now, Darcy needed time to interact with both men. “Lady Catherine hasn't had the leisure of having a husband to address a man's world. I have great hopes that Southland can assume some of those responsibilities.”

“Thank you for your confidence, Mr. Darcy.”

Manneville chortled. “Do not flatter Southland, Darcy. He needs to enter this marriage with his eyes fully open.”

“Unlike you, Manneville, I would offer, instead of ominous predictions of Southland's ultimate failure, my expertise as a landowner. Why do we not give the lieutenant the benefit of our knowledge? You have a large country house. Is that not correct?”

“It is.”

“Then let's join forces. As part of the Boxing Day celebration, I'll hear disputes and petitions from the locals who depend on Pemberley for their livelihoods. Why don't you two join me? With each request, we can point out the merits and the deficits. That way Southland can practice the responsibility without damaging others.”

The lieutenant looked from one man to the other. “Is this a common practice? Hearing disputes?”

Manneville grumbled, “All the time.”

“Then I would appreciate your insights, Mr. Darcy. You too, Manneville,” Southland said excitedly.

Darcy took his turn at the table. Smiling amicably to win over their agreement, he said, “Afterward, we can enjoy the celebration.” He added hastily, “But I'll swear you both to secrecy: I've asked mummers to perform tonight.”

Edward traced a path through the deserted Pemberley hallway. Darcy had distracted Edward's traveling companions, and the colonel needed to take advantage of the moment. Except for the possibility of being caught, he and his cousin had planned for every contingency. Being discovered would mean that everyone would
know what the Prince would prefer to keep secret. Easing the door open, he slid into the dimly lit room. The afternoon's winter sun had started its descent, but enough light remained for his mission. Shoving away from the door, Edward went in search of something damaging to a person's reputation.