Darcy's Temptation (18 page)

“Thank you, Mr. Lansing. I may try to visit the gentleman later.”

“Yes, Miss Donnelly.”

For five days Fitzwilliam Darcy lay on the fine bedclothes of the blue suite at Darling Hall. He had no visitors, including Miss Donnelly, attended only by an old servant named Conrad. The physician called daily; the servants cleaned the room daily; the steward James Lansing reported to his mistress daily.

 

To say Miss Donnelly did not visit the gentleman would be a fabrication. The first night he lay unconscious on the pillows of the blue suite, Miss Donnelly's curiosity got the best of her judgment. So, in the middle of the night, she left her bedchamber and stole down the dimly lit hallway to the man's room. She knew the rest of the household slept, and she would go unnoticed.

Conrad snoozed on the pallet in front of the fireplace. Miss Donnelly knew he would not stir unless she did something foolish. With a gloved hand, she gingerly turned the door's handle and slipped into where the man slept. All day long she wondered what he looked like. His body she recognized in the coach to be physically pleasing. Could his countenance, once smeared with blood and dirt, prove as attractive?

Taking the candle to light her way, Miss Donnelly tiptoed to where the gentleman lay. It took only seconds for her eyes to adjust to the shadows lying across his face. A slight gasp of excitement slipped from her lips before she allowed herself a smile of recognition. She met him only once in London. She attended a private party at the home of Mr. and Mrs. Albert Hurst, friends of a distant cousin. It was a little over a year ago, shortly after Christmas. They spoke cordially to each other several times during the evening, and she thought the man seemed interested in her; but shortly after their introductions, he withdrew within himself, and the evening ended on a sour note. The man reclining on the pillows in her blue suite was Fitzwilliam Darcy.

“Miss Donnelly, you sent for me, Ma'am?” Mr. Lansing entered the study.

She looked up from the letter to which she attended. Miss Donnelly took the time to blot the ink and seal the letter with wax before she acknowledged the man standing in attendance to her. “Have a seat, Mr. Lansing.” She pointed to a high-backed chair placed at an angle to the desk.

The man leaned back in the chair, glad to have a moment to rest.“Is there a problem, Miss Donnelly?”

She took a folded piece of paper from the drawer and slid it across the desktop to Lansing.

He leaned forward, removed his gloves, and picked up the page while eyeing the estate's mistress. Inside the folded paper he found fifty pounds. A knowing smile overtook his face. “Miss Donnelly, how generous of you.”

“It is my way of thanking you for helping me save my cousin Frederick's life.” The lady nodded, knowing he would understand the subtext of this conversation.

“Your cousin Frederick.” He repeated the words as if committing them to memory.

“Yes, my cousin Frederick—the one we found on the road and brought back to Darling Hall so he and I might marry.” The corners of her mouth turned upward.

Lansing's eyes sparkled with mischief.“The cousin to marry so you inherit the additional fifty thousand pounds left in your parents' will—that cousin.”

Her voice took on a conspiratorial tone. “As my steward, you are well aware of my parents' wishes. I will be eight and twenty in four months; should I not consider the offer of my cousin's hand?”

“I agree; marriage to your cousin would seem a viable solution to your problem. Should I review the papers we found in your
cousin's
possession in the coach?” Lansing picked up on her tone.

“I believe most of my cousin's papers were lost or burned in the attack.”

Lansing wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and Miss Donnelly snarled her nose in disgust. “I apologize, Miss Donnelly,” he said as he slid on his gloves once again.

She fanned her face as if the saliva he left on the back of his hand spread danger.

Trying to divert her quirky ablutions, he continued,“Again, Miss Donnelly, you are very generous.Why so much?”

“I assumed you might need to remind key staff members my cousin Frederick resided with us for three weeks. He went to Hull on business and to obtain a license for our marriage. He was attacked upon his return. Do you remember all those details?”

Lansing thumbed through the paper and folded it once again, sliding it in his jacket pocket. “I remember it all clearly, Miss Donnelly.” He stood to leave.“I remain your faithful servant.”

 

The afternoon Darcy finally opened his eyes, no one he recognized seemed to be about.The only person in the room, a servant who identified himself as Conrad, insisted the gentleman not move or leave the bed until someone could fetch the physician.

 

“Sir, my name is Mr. Addison. I attend you.”

Darcy pushed himself up in the bed. “Mr. Addison, could you tell me where I am and why I am here?”

“You were robbed from what I understand, Sir.” The doctor examined Darcy's wounds. “You are at Darling Hall near Brigg. Miss Donnelly brought you here.”

“Miss Donnelly?”A question seemed appropriate.

“I am new to the area myself, Sir. Miss Donnelly owns this estate,” the doctor added as he finished his examination. “Your wounds heal nicely; you should be able to return home soon,
Mr. . . . I am afraid I do not know your name.”

“I am . . . I am . . . I cannot remember my name.What is my name?” Terror spread across Darcy's face; he looked beseechingly at the man.

“It is all right, Sir,” Mr. Addison tried to allay Darcy's fears. “This is common after a wound such as yours; a brief memory loss makes sense.You have been here for five days, and you were lying on the road for possibly several days before that time. Your body suffered a great shock. Such an injury would cause some confusion. I am sure Miss Donnelly can answer your questions; she had her men retrieve your belongings. Possibly there is some form of marking among your things.”

He allowed the physician to push him back down on the bed.“When may I see Miss Donnelly?”

“I will tell her steward, and he will address your concerns to Miss Donnelly,” Mr. Addison assured him. “I need for you to take it easy, Sir. It is likely you will experience dizzy spells for a few days. I want Conrad here to bring you some broth and to gradually increase your food intake so you might regain your strength.”

Darcy felt the chaos of the situation.“You will send for Miss Donnelly?”

“I will do so, Sir. I will call upon you again in a few days.” With that, the physician exited the room.

Darcy found himself alone again.Where was he? Who was he? Who was Miss Donnelly? There were too many questions to which he had no answers. He lay back on the bed, trying to forcibly remember some of the details of his life.

 

He waited for Miss Donnelly to appear, but the lady did not come.“Where is she?” he spoke to no one in particular.

“The mistress does not think it to be proper for her to enter a gentleman's bedchamber,” Conrad, the servant, informed him as he tended to the serving tray.

“Then send me her steward,” Darcy demanded. “He can relay the information, or give me paper and pen and I will address Miss Donnelly in writing.”

“A lady could not receive a letter from anyone but her husband or her intended,” Conrad reasoned.

Darcy's frustration showed; he wanted to leave the bed, but every time he tried to stand, he was beset with incoherent dizziness.“Someone help me,” he moaned as he forced himself to sleep.