Unforgiving Temper (35 page)

“Darcy, I think I had better take the eastern
route.”

“I do not know that it matters, does it?”

“Well, that depends. Perhaps it has slipped
your mind that Scarborough is part of that route – and Caroline is
in Scarborough, with my cousin. You may want to reconsider.”

“I see your point, Bingley,” Darcy winced. “I
believe I shall take the western route after all.”

Elizabeth desperately needed some fresh air.
Fighting the urge to run, she hurried down the hall and out into
Everton's gardens. As she reached the first steps leading down from
the terrace to the summer garden, now barren and awaiting the
coming autumn frosts, she took several deep breaths of the cool
September air, trying unsuccessfully to calm the panic rapidly
overcoming her. Walking through the long afternoon shadows, she
struggled to regain her stunned senses, but her mind could only
focus on the awful letter still clutched in her hand bearing
Wickham's devastating words.

“…
I have had news from our dear Lydia that
your father is seriously ill. It has occurred to me that you may
have thoughts of returning home. While your father's condition is a
most unfortunate turn of events, it does not alter the terms of our
agreement. Should you manage to arrange return passage, consider
the difficulty you would add to your family's heavy burden by
forcing me to make public Lydia's most passionate letters…”

The anguish that had been building since she
first read the letter now flowed freely in a rush of unrestrained
tears. She walked on in blind misery until she came to the small
folly which guarded the east boundary of the gardens, its leaded
dome held aloft by six Grecian columns. Reaching out with trembling
hands, Elizabeth steadied herself against the cool, stony surface
as another wave of anger and frustration washed over her, draining
her strength.

She struggled against the debilitating
numbness, trying to determine a plan of action. How could she not
go home when her father's very life was in question? The shame and
humiliation of Lydia's disgrace would be nothing next to the pain
of losing her father without ever having seen him again. To be
forced to remain at Everton was unbearable and she loathed Wickham
all the more for having robbed her of the little bit of money that
would have carried her home regardless of the consequences. She had
no idea what she would do, but she did know she could not survive
the loss of her father if she did nothing.

But what was to be done? A low moan rose in
her throat as she realized there was nothing that could be done.
She was alone and penniless. Slowly sinking into a frightening gulf
of despair, Elizabeth did not hear the footsteps behind her.

“Miss Bennet, is something wrong?”

“Lord Grissholm!” Elizabeth spun around
in surprise at the close sound of his voice. “I…I did not see
you.”

“Rebecca said you left suddenly and seemed
upset, so I came to find you. Are you unwell?”

No, I am fine,” she lied, wiping quickly at
her face to brush away the tell-tale wetness.

“I think not,” he answered gently, stepping
nearer. “I am sorry to say it, but you look rather wretched.”

“Really, I am fine. I have just – ” Renewed
thoughts of her desperate situation brought more irrepressible
tears that choked off her words.

Grissholm took her arm to guide her to the
folly's small bench, pleased with her unmistakable willingness to
accept his support. His letter to Wickham suggesting he send some
news of her family had proved more effective than he anticipated –
a little too effective, it seemed.

“Miss Bennet, allow me to assist, if I
can. What is it?”

“I am sorry for my outburst. It is just that
I have received some distressing news about my father.”

“Your father? You have heard from your family
then?”

“No. Actually, the news came from…someone
else, but I have learned that my father is very ill. When I did not
receive any reply from my letters, I worried that there may be some
trouble at home, but I never thought it would be as bad as
this.”

Once again she was overcome by frustrated
tears. Lowering himself onto the bench next to Elizabeth,
Lord Grissholm waited silently for her grief to subside, then
gently took her hand in his.

“That is terrible, indeed. Surely there is
something I can do to help.”

The surprising tenderness in Grissholm's
voice permeated Elizabeth's misery and carried a glimmer of hope to
her tortured mind. Dare she confide her troubles to him? In her
first weeks at Everton, she had been convinced he was a cold and
indifferent man; and yet for some time now, with only a few
exceptions, his manner had been quite amiable, and even attentive
at times. Was it possible he would prove to be more generous than
she had first believed? Her first impressions had been wrong before
– very wrong. This time, she would not sketch a man's character by
a few ungracious words, spoken early in their acquaintance.

Destitute as she was and with Quarter Day
still weeks away, her only prospect for getting back to Longbourn
any time soon was to obtain an advance on her salary. She was not
certain what sum it would be, but surely it would be enough for
passage to Hertfordshire.

“My lord,” she began hesitantly. “I thank you
for your generous offer. There is something I might ask of
you.”

“Whatever is in my power, Miss Bennet, I
should be happy to assist.”

“I have no money and to wait for Quarter Day
may be too late. If you have found my services to be satisfactory,
perhaps you could advance enough of my wages for me to purchase a
seat on the post. Surely what I have earned thus far would cover
the expense.”

“An advance? Hmm…that is a surprising
request, but I suppose some arrangements can be made. However, are
you certain you want to travel the post alone? What of your
traveling companion – Mrs. Younge, was it? Can she be sent
for?”

Elizabeth's mouth hardened at the thought of
her journey to Everton. “No, my lord, I could not travel with
Mrs. Younge again.”

“Well, then, a male relation or
Mr. Wickham perhaps? I would not want to see you on the road
for so long with no protection.”

“No!” she cried, shuddering at the thought of
spending any time alone with the man that had been the cause of all
her misery. “There is no one. I shall have to take my chances.”

“Miss Bennet, that you would rather
travel post across the length of England, all alone and nearly
impoverished, tells me there is much more to the story than just
your father being ill.”

Elizabeth contemplated his words. He seemed
genuinely concerned for her well-being.

“Sir,” Elizabeth began. “May I ask how well
you are acquainted with Mr. Wickham?”

“Not very well. We were introduced at
university, but I have had little contact with him since. We do not
travel in the same circles, you see. Our paths happened to cross
again when I began looking to fill the post of companion for
Rebecca. Why do you ask?”

“He…I mean, um…I am afraid I have come here
under false pretenses, my lord.”

“False pretenses?” Grissholm exclaimed,
presenting a suitably shocked expression, his eyes betraying
nothing of what he already knew. “Would you care to explain
yourself?”

“Please believe me, it is not what you may
think. I did come to Everton under Mr. Wickham's
recommendation, but the position was accepted most
unwillingly.”

“You accepted the position against your will?
We had not even met before your arrival. Did you think us so
inhospitable?”

“You mistake my meaning, sir. My situation
here is better than I had ever hoped it would be.”
Except for
the first few weeks
, she recanted to herself. “Miss Ballard is
a wonderful young lady, and my situation is quite comfortable. It
is only that I was compelled to accept the position when I would
have been content to stay with my family in Hertfordshire.”

“And it was Mr. Wickham who compelled
you,” he stated with a convincingly grave countenance.

“Yes, it was.”

“How is it that Wickham managed to compel a
woman as independent as you are?'

A gust of wind swirled around them and
Elizabeth regretted having left her shawl on the back of her chair
in the sitting room. She could feel him looking at her as she
deliberated how much she should tell him. He was sitting close,
almost too close; but his presence was oddly comforting, and she
shifted, unconsciously drawing closer to him for protection from
the chilly air.

“First I must tell you that I risk the ruin
of my entire family if any of this gets back to
Mr. Wickham.”

“Whatever it is, you may be assured of my
discretion, Miss Bennet.”

“Very well,” she said carefully, taking a
deep breath. “Mr. Wickham has certain letters – from my
youngest sister – in his possession; letters that would ruin my
family should they become public knowledge. He threatened to
publish them if I did not accept this position.”

“Ah,” Grissholm replied calmly. “Did he
happen to give his reasons for sending you here?”

“No, and that is the worst of it! I cannot
determine his purpose, although I am certain he is working on some
contemptible scheme and has forced me here to advance it. The
letter I received today was from him. He told me of my father's
illness yet insisted that I remain here at Everton – which is an
impossibility! I cannot stay here; and yet, if I go to
Hertfordshire, I risk my sister's reputation and my family's
ruin.”

“That is a very difficult situation. Even
with the risk, you are still determined to go?”

“I must! I simply cannot stay away when my
father is so ill.” She paused as a faint blush rose to her cheeks.
“I…I am telling you this because…because I thought perhaps you
could help; that your position and connections might somehow
persuade Mr. Wickham to give up the letters. If they could no
longer be used to hold me here, I could make the trip to Longbourn
without exposing my family. I would, of course, return to finish my
commitment to Rebecca. I owe her – and you – that much.”

“And what of this scheme you speak of? Could
your leaving affect anyone else?”

“I am not certain,” Elizabeth frowned. “At
first, I thought he was going to use my association with Rebecca
for some kind of financial gain; but I can assure you, sir, as God
is my witness, that I would have protected her against any such
scheme! However, it has been completely unnecessary as he has not
mentioned her once since my arrival; so now I have no idea of his
true purpose. He has made no attempt against your wealth, and my
family has none to offer. Still, I would not trust him on any
account, my lord.”

“Do not worry, Miss Bennet. I have had a
good deal of experience with the likes of Wickham.”

Elizabeth shuddered at the memory of their
last meeting. She could still hear Wickham's menacing words
whispering in her ear as Mrs. Younge searched for the money
they stole.

Grabbing Lord Grissholm's arm with her
free hand, she turned to him with sudden worry. “Yes, but please
have an extra care for Rebecca and keep her safe. She has learned
to be more outgoing and someone of Mr. Wickham's character
would certainly take advantage of her. I could not bear to see her
hurt.”

“Be assured, I shall do everything in my
power to keep her safe in your absence.” Grissholm's hand came down
over Elizabeth's, pressing it tightly to his arm as he pulled her
up from the bench. “Now, shall we return to the house and see what
arrangements can be made? It may take a day or two, but we shall
get you on your way – and I will see what I can do about the
letters as well.”

“Lord Grissholm, I cannot tell you what
this means to me,” she whispered, her eyes now glittering with
tears of relief. “You have my deepest thanks.”

I would have that and more
, he thought
to himself as they slowly walked back toward the house. He found
great comfort in the warmth of her hand resting beneath his own and
the door to his heart began to open once again. It was a good
feeling.

Nearing the steps leading up from the summer
garden, Elizabeth ignored his slight frown as she gently removed
her hand and self-consciously wrapped her arms around herself. She
could feel her heart pounding with the realization that something
had happened to alter their relationship. What it was, she was not
exactly sure. She only knew that she needed some distance to sort
out her own muddled thoughts before she faced him again.

“I…I think I should find Rebecca and make my
apologies. She must be frantic wondering what happened.”

Hurrying off to find her charge, Elizabeth
could feel the intensity of Grissholm's eyes following her as she
walked the length of the hall and turned the corner.

Grissholm studied Elizabeth's retreating
figure with candid admiration. She was an intriguing woman –
fiercely independent in many ways, yet surprisingly vulnerable when
it came to those she cared about. What was he going to do with
her?

The several ideas that he had been
considering during their walk back to the house at last coalesced
into a definitive plan. Seizing the moment before he could
reconsider and talk himself out of it, he turned from the doorway
where he had remained, and purposefully made his way to his
study.

Sitting down at the huge mahogany desk, he
fingered the catch to the small carved box, not quite willing to
open it yet. He had kept it close by these past few months as a
reminder of Darcy's betrayal and his goal to repay the master of
Pemberley. His hand stilled upon the chest as he thought of
Elizabeth and how close he was to obtaining that goal. But it was
no longer the same goal; somewhere along the way it had
changed.