Mr and Mrs Darcy 02 Suspense & Sensibility (28 page)

Darcy
noted the full glass and half-empty bottle beside him and deduced the nature of
Harry's genealogical impairment.

"Harry,"
Edward began, "all your family is very concerned about you."

Mr.
Dashwood swallowed more ice cream. "This is splendid stuff.
I cannot decide which I prefer--water ices or
cream ices. I shall have to order Cook to stock both in the new larder."

"Harry,"
Edward continued, "I did not come to lecture you about Norland, or about
your mother's fortune. Those losses cannot be restored. But the rest of it can
be mended."

Harry
tossed back his wine, or brimstone, or whatever it was he drank, and refilled
the glass. "The rest of what?"

"This
'Hell-Fire Club' in which I understand you have immersed yourself."

Irritation
flashed across Mr Dashwood's face. "I do wish everyone would cease calling
it that. I have never called it that."
"What do you call it?"
He shrugged. "The Monks of
Medmenham, the Friars of Saint Francis, the Knights--choose whichever you fancy.
I prefer the Knights of late. But it has never been the Hell-Fire Club. That's
an old name the ignorant persist in using"

Darcy's
patience ebbed. He had many words to describe Mr. Dashwood, his companions, and
his activities, none of which I he expected Harry would care to hear. "Whatever
its name, your continued promotion of and I volvement with the organization
threatens more than your fortune,"

"What
else do I risk, Mr. Darcy? My life? It will run out in due course. My sacred
honor? In their day, many great men associated with the Knights."

Darcy
regarded Mr. Dashwood with contempt. Naught but respect for Lord Chatfield could
compel him to carry this mission any further.

"You
are not a great man. Mr. Dashwood. Great men consider the influence they bear
on those around them. If you will not check your behavior for your own sake, at
least do not ruin others' futures along with yours."

"My
Knights are grown men who make their own choices."
"To the grief of those around
them." Darcy leaned on the table, so that his eyes were level with
Harry's. "Mr Dashwood, when you broke faith with Miss Bennet, you also
betrayed the friendship I extended to you. My wife and I accepted you into our home,
into our family circle, and into our lives. When you came me to me seeking
guidance, I gave it willingly I regarded you my brother."

Mr.
Dashwood sighed, his expression bored. Darcy swallowed both his scorn and his
pride, and continued.

"In
remembrance of that former esteem, I ask one boon of you. Grant it, and I will
trouble you no further."

The
petition seemed to amuse him "The righteous Mr. Darcy begs a favor from
the fallen Mr Dashwood? I am all attention. "

"Lord
Phillip Beaumont."

"What
of him?"

"Drop
him. From your Knights, from your acquaintance, from your memory"

Dashwood
studied him. "What is Beaumont to you?"

"He
has friends who wish to avoid heanng his name linked with scandal."

A
sardonic smile twisted Harry's lips. "And who, in turn, pressure you to
intercede." He laughed coldly "I am afraid, Mr Darcy. you will simply
have to bear their displeasure at your failure, for I choose my own society,
and so does Beaumont."

He
emptied his glass again and reached for the bottle. "You may both leave
now, for I have done with you."

Darcy
and Edward stared at the rude dismissal. Mr. Dashwood waved them away. "That's
right 'Stand not upon the order of your going, but go at once'" He
returned to his ice cream, now half-melted in its dish. Darcy hoped he choked
on it.

"I
am astounded," Edward said when they reached the hall.
"I thought your description had
prepared me for his degeneration, but I had not comprehended us extent. He
conducts himself in this manner all the time now?"

"Not
always. He is often worse."

Mr
Ferrars shook his head "He looks terrible. I have seen men whose health
was mined by drink or gluttony, but I have never witnessed an appearance
deteriorate so quickly. And his eyes--his gaze is wizened, as if he possesses
knowledge best left unknown."

"Candles
that burn all night dwindle faster."

A
knock at the door summoned the housekeeper, who answered it to admit, of all
people, Phillip Beaumont. Providence had created a final opponunity for Darcy
to fulfill his pledge to the earl. Darcy greeted Lord Phillip and presented
Edward to him.

"Lord
Phillip." Darcy said, "I wonder if I might speak to you about a
matter of some concern."

Mr
Ferrars, recognizing his presence as superfluous and likely detrimental to the
achievement of Dairy's objective, excused himself to wait in the carriage. Once
he departed, Beaumont regarded Darcy expectantly.

"Lord
Phillip--" Darcy considered his words, conscious that he had but moments to
form an argument to which Beaumont might prove receptive. If the earl's
entreaties had gone unheeded, how could the cautions of a near-stranger expect
to find audience? Chatfield had already appealed to Phillip's sense of honor,
family duty, and safely But Beaumont was young, too young to believe himself or
his reputation vulnerable to harm.

Harry
Dashwood had believed himself similarly impervious, and look at him now.

Yes--look
at him. Darcy would appeal to Beaumont"s vanity. "Lord Phillip, I
have just come from Mr. Dashwood. As his friend, I desire your opinion. Does he
seem much altered to you in recent weeks?"

"Of
course. He's more lively and amusing. And he throws much better parties than he
ever did at Oxford."

"But
do you not think his pursuit of pleasure has taxed his physical person?"

"Perhaps
a little."

The
housekeeper hovered, obviously impatient to announce Lord Phillip to her master
so she could get on with her other duties. A look from Darcy induced her to
retreat a few steps.
"Only a little?"

"Well,
all right--Dashwood is hardly cutting a dash these days. But what of it? He is
seizing life."

"Do
you not fear that participating in his dissipation will work similar effects
upon you?"
He shrugged. "It hasn't thus
far."

From
the dining room, Mr Dashwood summoned his housekeeper. Harry probably wanted to
know who had knocked on the door Darcy had at most a minute more with the
countess's brother.

"Lord
Phillip, it is not my business, but I urge you to take care in your intercourse
with Mr. Dashwood."

"You
are correct, Mr Darcy. It is not your business."

Darcy
accepted the rebuff without answer. This trip to Pall Mall had soundly thrashed
his dignity. Having been curtly dismissed by both Dashwood and Beaumont, he
would not tarry long enough to be run out by the housekeeper, as well. With a nod
of farewell to Lord Phillip, he departed
His
obligation to the earl had been discharged.

Twenty Four

Her thoughts were silently fixed on the irreparable
injury which too early an independence and its consequent habits of idleness,
dissapation and luxury had made... The world had made him extravagant and vain
--- Extravagance and vanity had made him cold-hearted and selfish.

Sense and Sensibility,
Chapter 44

Elizabeth
called in St. James's for what she expected would be her last visit to the
Brandons' townhouse. Elinor had written that morning to report that, given the
failure of Darcy and Edward's meeting with Mr. Dashwood, the Ferrars saw little
reason to continue their stay in town and would depart for Devonshire on the
morrow.

Darcy,
too, had expressed his desire to get Kitty and themselves out of London by
weeks end.
So Elizabeth set out to take proper
leave of Mrs. Ferrars and assure her that, whatever had transpired between
Elinor's nephew and Elizabeth's family, the Darcys valued their acquaintance
with Mr. and Mrs. Edward Ferrars, and desired its continuance.

To
her disappointment, she arrived to find Elinor just going out.

"You
shall have to excuse me," Mrs. Ferrars said, "but I am on my way to
see Harry, and this is my only opportunity to do so."

Elizabeth
accepted this announcement as good news. Perhaps Edward, upon review of
yesterday's interview, had struck upon a novel strategy to reclaim Mr.
Dashwood. She did not, however, see Elinor's husband anywhere about.
"Does Mr. Ferrars accompany
you?"

A guilty
expression crossed Elinor's features. "Edward does not know--he is out with
the Brandons and my mother. From what he told me of his encounter with Harry, I
suspect he would not approve of my going. But I could not come all this way to
London only to leave without so much as a glimpse of my nephew--without
attempting myself to prevail upon him, even though others have been unable to
do so."

"I
could not either, were I you. How did you intend to get to townhouse?"
"By hackney."
"I will take you."

Elinor
gratefully accepted Elizabeth's offer, and soon the Darcys' carriage headed
toward Pall Mall. Elinor seemed anxious, a mood Elizabeth jointly ascribed to
apprehension over her imminent meeting with Harry and unease over the perceived
deceit of making this call without Edward's knowledge.The former, at least,
Elizabeth could attempt to mitigate, and perhaps the latter.

"As
I have mentioned previously. Mrs. Ferrars, you should prepare yourself for a
great alteration in your nephew," she said. "But take hope in the
possibility that as a Dashwood yourself, you may succeed where others have
failed in convincing him that your ancestor's legacy is not one to be admired ."

"I
pray you are correct." she replied. "I thought I would try evoking
his memories of my father and Uncle Albert--forebears more worthy of his esteem.
I only hope I do not get the reception Edward and Mr. Darcy did yesterday. One
hopes Mr. Dashwood retains enough civility to treat a lady with more
courtesy"

"One
hopes." Elizabeth recalled his conduct toward Kitty, and doubted it. But
she kept the opinion to herself, seeing little value in amplifying Elinor's
trepidation.

"Mrs.
Darcy, migln I impose upon you to call on him with me? You have been in his company
recently and might discern better than I an opening in the conversation that
could be used to our advantage. And when I tell Edward of this visit--as tell him
I must--the fact that I called with a companion might lessen any displeasure the
news occasions."

"Of
course I will accompany you." Elizabeth would have done so simply for friendship's
sake, but Elinor's invitation also offered the potential for a glimpse at Mr.
Dashwood's looking glass-- provided it had arrived from Norland, and that she
could locate it within the townhouse. She didn't imagine the Mirror of Narcissus
was something likely to be left lying around the front hall.

She
recalled Professor Randolph's caveat to refrain from looking directly into the
glass, and to bring his amulet with her.
Unfortunately, she could not heed
all of his advice. She did not have the amulet on her person at present, nor
could she justify to Elinor the need to stop at her own home en route to Pall Mall
so she could retrieve a pocketwatch. She would simply have to go without it,
for this would likely prove her only opportunity to obtain a look at the mirror.

As
they arrived and disembarked from the carriage, a woman emerged from Mr. Dashwood's
townhouse. At first. Elizabeth wondered if they beheld Harry's mystery
mistress, but then she recognized the lady as Lucy Ferrars. Lucy stomped down
the steps in such a state of vexation that she did not hear Elinor's salutation
and almost strode right past them without
recognition. A second greeting from Elinor slowed her.

"Elinor!"
Lucy appeared startled. Her gaze darted toward her carriage as if she
contemplated continuing into it without pausing to talk to them. Her sharp features
tensed with impatience as the demands of common courtesy defeated ihe impulse.
"Whatever are you doing
here?"

"I was about to ask the same of
you." Elinor said. "Mrs. Darcy and I hope to implore Harry to come to
his senses."

"Well,
good luck to you! Harry Dashwood is a knave and a scoundrel and I don't know
what else! He can go to the devil, all I care!"

"Good
heavens, Lucy. What has happened?"

He's
lost all sense of honor, that's what. He'll take advantage of anybody."
Her cat eyes narrowed as she struggled to check tears of anger. "I declare.
Elinor, he has completely lost conscience! Take my advice--get back in your carriage,
go home, and forget you ever considered coming here I wish I had."

With
that, she threw herself into her gig and left.
"Well!" Elinor pulled her
gaze away from the receding vehicle to face Elizabeth. "That certainly
makes one want to proceed, does it not?"

"It
makes me wish we had arrived a quarter hour earlier."
Harry had probably grown weary of
Lucy circling his townhouse to scavenge for gossip, and told her so in terms
Elizabeth might have found diverting.