The Disappearance of Georgiana Darcy: A Pride and Prejudice Mystery (14 page)

Lydia thought of the supercilious Mr. Collins and giggled. “You assign greater consequence to the clergyman than one has been used to hear given, or than I can quite comprehend. One does not see much of this influence and importance in society, and how can it be acquired where they are so seldom seen themselves? How can two sermons a week, even supposing them worth hearing, do all that you speak of? Govern the conduct and fashion the manners of a large congregation for the rest of the week? One scarcely sees a clergyman out of his pulpit.”

“
You
are speaking of London,
I
am speaking of the nation at large,” Winkler asserted.

“I suppose the metropolis, I imagine, is a pretty fair sample of the rest, but I assure you that I thought only of my cousin Mr. Collins,” Lydia said.

Winkler chuckled. “I had the dubious pleasure of making Mr. Collins's acquaintance last Christmastide, and in his case, what you attribute to the clergy likely holds true. Yet, I believe, Mr. Collins is not a prime example of true men of the cloth. Nor, I should hope, of the proportion of virtue to vice throughout the kingdom. We do not look in great cities for our best morality. It is not there that respectable people of any denomination can do most good; and it certainly is not there that the influence of the clergy can be most felt. A fine preacher is followed and admired; but it is not in fine preaching only that a good clergyman will be useful in his parish and his neighborhood, where the parish and neighborhood are of a size capable of knowing his private character, and observing his general conduct, which in London can rarely be the case. The clergy are lost there in the crowds of their parishioners. They are known to the largest part only as preachers. And with regard to their influencing public manners, Mrs. Wickham, you must not misunderstand me, or suppose I mean to call them the arbiters of good breeding, the
regulators of refinement and courtesy, the masters of the ceremonies of life. The
manners
I speak of might rather be called
conduct
, perhaps, the result of good principles; the effect, in short, of those doctrines which it is their duty to teach and recommend; and it will, I believe, be everywhere found, that as the clergy are, or are not what they ought to be, so are the rest of the nation.”

Lydia immediately understood why Kitty had chosen this man. Mr. Winkler answered her sister's need for order and for generosity. A pang of jealousy ricocheted through her chest. “Certainly,” she said with gentle earnestness. “I concede to your point and to the fact that you are the perfect mate for our Kitty. I wish you both happiness.”

“Fitzwilliam.” Elizabeth cornered him in one of the second-level hallways. Immediately, she backed her husband into an empty bedroom and laced her arms about his neck. Pulling his head toward hers, she went on tiptoes to claim a kiss. As she had hoped, Darcy responded fervently. When their lips parted, Elizabeth rested her cheek against the fine lawn of his shirt. “Mmm,” she sighed. “Sandalwood and my husband.” She inhaled deeply. “Such an intoxicating mix.”

His hand slid slowly up the curve of her waist to caress the underside of her breast. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” He lifted her hips to him.

“Do you mind?” she rasped as she kissed along his cravat's line.

Darcy chuckled lightly. “Do I mind being manhandled by my wife? Not at all. Use me as you will,” he said softly before returning to her mouth.

Elizabeth wriggled closer and then insinuated her hand between them to unbutton his waistcoat. She could feel his heat building as she gave his shirt a small tug to free it.

“Lizzy,” he groaned as his lips slid down her neck's curve. “I can never have enough of you.”

Her own heat coursed through her veins. It filled her stomach and sent the familiar ache between her thighs. “I am here, William. Take what you want of me. I have no objections.”

Darcy reached behind him and turned the key. He lifted her and carried her to the chaise. “As God is my witness, I love you, Elizabeth Darcy. Beyond reason.”

She wound her arms about his neck. “Then show me, William, and permit me to demonstrate in return of my deepest regard for you. I do not deserve you, but I cannot breathe unless I know your love. Above all others, Fitzwilliam. Forever, I shall love you.”

Fortunately, Lydia had remained quite sedate throughout the evening's gathering. To assure her sister's compliance, however, Elizabeth had placed the girl on her right to control the conversation's flow. Besides those in attendance as house guests, Elizabeth had invited another three dozen people to spend the afternoon and evening as part of the pre-wedding celebration. Aware of Mr. Winkler's position in the community, Elizabeth had invited the most influential members of the neighborhood.

“I remember that husband of yours, Mrs. Wickham,” Mr. Lowell said as he finished off the fish course. “Quite a wastrel when he was younger. Kept my Jonathan busy with one scheme after another. Old Mr. Wickham was always bailing the boy out of trouble.” He paused only briefly before turning his attention on Elizabeth. “Darcy and Fitzwilliam were more studious than my boy and Wickham. Old Mr. Darcy kept a tight rein on your husband, Ma'am.”

“Mr. Darcy accepted his father's firm hand with pride,” Elizabeth observed. “And your Jonathan has shown himself to be very adept at handling the mill.”

Mr. Lowell nodded his agreement. “The boy has a right smart head on his shoulders. And the Earl's son, Fitzwilliam, he has served England most honorably.”

“We are quite proud of the Major General. Mrs. Fitzwilliam has joined Edward at the family property in Scotland,” Elizabeth confided.

Elizabeth noted her sister's frown. “Was Lieutenant Wickham the only failure?” Lydia mumbled.

“What was that you said, Mrs. Wickham? I fear that I do not hear as well as I should. It is terrible getting older,” Lowell declared.

Perfectly aware of her sister's complaint, Elizabeth quickly responded. “Mrs. Wickham was just commenting on how pleasant it is to hear something of her husband's youth from those who knew him best. All young men attack life differently; do they not, Mr. Lowell?”

“That they do, Mrs. Darcy. I expect those horror stories my father used to tell of my escapades would seem out of place with the man I am now. Some say it is harder with boys in the house, but having had three, I can tell you that the two girls were so much more difficult,” he declared.

Elizabeth smiled easily. The conversation had turned. “I imagine that my father would agree with you. Five daughters brought him several gray hairs.”

Lowell laughed good-naturedly. “Well, five girls would obviously be more troublesome than two.”

“What is it, Thorne?” Kitty asked as her intended unfolded a message delivered by Mr. Nathan.

With a serious mien, he scanned the paper. “Mr. Saunders has broken his leg. The surgeon will not permit him to leave his mother's house for at least a week. He cannot pronounce our vows. There is no one else in the area. We will have to postpone our nuptials.”

“No,” she said a bit too loudly. “There must be someone else.”

“I cannot administer my own vows,” he insisted. “We will have to wait.”

Elizabeth appeared beside her sister. Smiling to allay the Pemberley guests' interest in the agitated conversation between their local minister and his fiancée, she asked softly, “Is there something you wish to share?”

Kitty caught her hand. “Oh, Lizzy, it is absolutely dreadful. Mr. Saunders has sustained an injury and cannot oversee our joining.”

“Mr. Polland departed for London yesterday,” Mr. Winkler added.

“We shall have to postpone the wedding.” Kitty's words brought tears to her eyes.

Elizabeth placed her sister's hand in Mr. Winkler's. “You shall marry the man you have chosen, and the wedding shall take place on Monday as planned.”

“But…” Kitty began; yet, a flick of Elizabeth's wrist cut short the protest.

Elizabeth smiled in amusement. “Did I not mention that Mr. Joseph once held a living at Stoke?”

Relief washed Winkler's countenance. “Why did I not consider that?”

“Probably because the two of you are determined to believe that anything as right as what you are feeling cannot be possible. Trust me.” She turned her head to search the room for Darcy. Their eyes met and held for the briefest second. “God sometimes answers the simplest prayers. Go speak to Mr. Joseph. I am certain the man will be delighted to conduct the ceremony. He has missed his clerical duties.”

“Thank you, Lizzy.” Kitty gave her sister a one-armed embrace before hurrying across the room to speak to the Josephs.

“Something amiss?” Darcy said softly behind her.

“Not any longer,” she said as she intertwined her arm through his. “I resolved my sister's dilemma.”

Darcy smiled lovingly at her. “I would never underestimate you, Mrs. Darcy.”

“I am pleased you sought me out, my husband.” She fluttered her lashes at him in an exaggerated flirtation. “I am in need of a dance partner. Mary has agreed to play for everyone's entertainment.”

“Probably not as effectively as Mrs. Fitzwilliam,” he observed. “But I am thankful for Mrs. Grange's efforts.”

“As am I,” she said softly. “Although I, too, deeply miss Georgiana. Yet, with the unexpected appearance of the Wickhams, I was thankful for our sister's absence from Pemberley.”

Darcy brought the back of her hand to his lips. “It is a small blessing, but I will accept God's forethought.” He paused as they approached the dance floor. “Am I to assume that Lieutenant Wickham has departed the area?”

“For all any of us know,” she whispered. “Lydia has heard nothing from the man since he stormed from the curate's cottage yesterday afternoon. Lieutenant Wickham threatened my father after Mr. Bennet's interference, said he would return to Carlisle, and left one of his infamous warnings for you.”

Darcy pulled her into a private alcove. “What type of warning?” he demanded in a hushed tone.

Elizabeth's forehead crinkled. “Just Lieutenant Wickham's usual posturing. My sister's husband claimed our snub was beyond the pale before saying that he would never forgive our rebuff. It is nothing of which to be concerned. Typical for Lieutenant Wickham to blame others for his own shortcomings.”

“The man will spin the incident to his own benefit.”

“Aye, but who is to listen? If Lieutenant Wickham announces that we refused to receive him, people shall wonder what of his
offense. Pemberley has opened its doors to strangers for more than five decades. Those of sense shall know his accusations as false.”

“It can be no worse than Lieutenant Wickham's previous offenses,” Darcy assured. “Now, my love, it is time for our dance.” He escorted her to the floor's center. Leaning down to speak close to her ear, he murmured, “I will ask Mrs. Grange to play a waltz if you promise to save me a second set.”