What Would Lizzy Bennet Do? (36 page)

‘I won’t have to wait until next year, as it happens.’

Ciaran turned back. ‘What do you mean? You’re making no sense, Darcy.’

‘The regatta committee reviewed my photographs of the crow’s nest. They agree that there’s more than sufficient evidence to disqualify the
Meryton
. It’s plain that you and your crew cheated to win. That’s why I came down here, Duncan. It’s not official yet, but…’ He grinned.
‘
You’re about to be stripped of the title, and the prize money. The committee is awarding the Challenge Cup to the
Pemberley
.’

His face darkened. ‘You’re lying. That can’t be!’

‘Oh, Harry, how wonderful! I’m so happy for you!’ Lizzy exclaimed, and ran up to throw her arms around his neck. She drew back quickly. ‘Ugh. You’re soaking wet.’

‘Sorry. I didn’t exactly plan on going for a swim today.’

‘Congratulations,’ Hugh added as he joined them, and clapped his brother on the shoulder. ‘Well done. When will the news be officially announced?’

‘It’ll be in tomorrow morning’s papers.’ Harry eyed Ciaran. ‘I hope you didn’t spend that prize money yet, Duncan.’

‘You haven’t heard the end of this,’ he snapped, and stalked away.

‘I don’t think our Mr Wickham was very happy.’ Lizzy watched, amused, as the actor stormed back to the
Meryton
, no doubt to relay the unwelcome news of their disqualification from the race back to the crew.

Harry peeled off his shirt and wrung it out. ‘No,’ he agreed, and grinned. ‘Furious, in fact. I’d say Mr Wickham just got a long overdue comeuppance.’

Chapter 42

When Hugh returned to Cleremont, Holly was sitting alone in the library. Luncheon had come and gone, and so had their appointment to select their wedding invitations at the local stationer’s.

‘I’m so sorry, darling,’ Hugh told Holly contritely as she informed him of the missed appointment. ‘Did you reschedule?’

‘No, I didn’t. I had no idea when you might return. It’s obvious you have no interest in this wedding.’

‘That isn’t true.’ He sat beside her on the sofa and took her hands in his. ‘I was so damned furious when I saw that photograph in the newspaper, I had to get to the bottom of it.’

‘We had plans today, Hugh! We were meant to choose our wedding invitations.’ Tears welled in her eyes. ‘But the minute you saw that story in the papers, you forgot about us… about me, and you took off for Litchfield Manor, and Lizzy.’

She began to cry in earnest, scarcely aware of Hugh’s arms coming around her or the words of apology and comfort he offered her.

‘Perhaps it’s all a m-mistake,’ she choked out a few minutes later. ‘Perhaps we shouldn’t go through with it.’

He drew back, perplexed. ‘What do you mean? Not go through with what – the wedding?’

Holly nodded miserably.

‘Darling,’ he said firmly, ‘don’t be daft! I forgot an appointment to choose our wedding invitations, that’s all. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to marry you.’

She blinked. Her eyelashes were matted together with tears. ‘If you have any doubts…’

‘I haven’t a single doubt.’ His words were firm as he took her hands once again in his and squeezed them gently. ‘I love you, Holly. I’m sorry I let you down.’

‘I love you, too.’ Another tear escaped and slid down her face. ‘I’m sorry. I know I’m acting like a hormonal cow.’

‘No, you’re not. You’ve a perfect right to be angry with me.’ He eyed her in contrition. ‘I’ve an idea. Why don’t we go into Torquay and spend the rest of the afternoon shopping? We can choose our china, or a silverware pattern, or whatever else you like.’

‘I’d love that.’ She gave him a teary smile. ‘Let’s do it.’

He leaned forward to kiss her, then straightened. ‘I’ll go and bring the car round. Meet me out front in ten minutes.’

She got up from the sofa and kissed him again, long and lingeringly. ‘I’ll be right there, Mr Darcy.’

***

‘Have you seen this morning’s papers?’ Lord Darcy asked as Hugh and Holly came downstairs and into the dining room the next morning.

Holly, dressed for riding, felt her heart sink down into her wellies. ‘Not another Bennet scandal, I hope?’

‘Oh, no. This is good news, for once. The regatta committee have disqualified the
Meryton
from the race due to…’ He picked up the paper and began to read. ‘“Due to irrefutable evidence of unsportsmanlike behaviour.”’ He looked up with a smile. ‘Ciaran Duncan and his crew have been stripped of the title and the
Pemberley
is now the official winner of the Challenge Cup.’

‘That’s wonderful!’ Holly exclaimed. She glanced at the table to congratulate Hugh’s brother, but he wasn’t to be seen. ‘Where
is
Harry, by the way?’

‘He went into Torquay earlier,’ Lady Darcy said. ‘Something about collecting the prize money and the regatta cup from the committee.’ She took a sip of her tea. ‘He was rather excited,’ she added with a smile. ‘“Chuffed”, as you young people say.’

‘Yes, Harry told me the news would be in the papers this morning,’ Hugh said as he held out a chair for Holly. ‘I’m glad the committee saw fit to disqualify Ciaran. He wasn’t best pleased about it.’

‘I’m not surprised to hear it,’ Holly began, and cast her fiancé a curious glance, ‘but how could you possibly know that?’

Hugh told them about the excitement at the marina the previous morning, when Billy fell overboard and Harry dived in to rescue him. ‘Ciaran was there when Harry told us the committee’s decision. He was livid.’

‘Not as livid as you’re about to be,’ Harry said, his expression grim as he entered the dining room with a newspaper in hand. He held up a copy of the
Daily Mail
. ‘I saw this at the newsagent’s in Torquay just now. I bought every copy they had.’

Everyone looked up to stare in astonishment at the huge, bolded headline.

DARCY LOVE CHILD!

In slightly smaller type – above a photograph of Harry, Hugh and Billy taken on the dock the day before – the text read, ‘Hugh Darcy’s Shocking Secret! Full Story and photos, p. 3.’

Holly, wide-eyed with astonishment, looked at her fiancé. ‘What – what does this mean? Billy’s your
son
?’

Hugh thrust back his chair and turned, white-faced with anger, to his brother. ‘This is outrageous! Give me that newspaper.’

He didn’t wait, but snatched the paper out of Harry’s hand and tossed it down in front of him. He began to read as his brother wordlessly passed out copies to Holly and his parents.

With a sinking heart, Holly began to read the story.

Hugh Fitzwilliam Darcy, Inner Temple barrister and heir to the Twelfth Earl of Darcy, is facing allegations that he fathered an illegitimate son, William Edmund Clarke, seven years ago.

The boy’s mother, Imogen Clarke, currently receives no financial support from the wealthy Darcy family and struggles to make ends meet; until recently, her son William allegedly lived aboard a boat docked at the Longbourne marina.

A paternity lawsuit is expected to be filed forthwith.

A DNA test will be ordered and, if Darcy is found to be the natural father, a petition for financial support for the child will follow. Clarke and her son temporarily reside with her mother, Lady Georgina de Byrne, Mr Darcy’s godmother.

Neither Darcy nor Lady de Bryne could be reached for comment.

Holly felt the blood drain from her face and thought, for a moment, she might faint. She touched Hugh’s arm. It was rigid under her fingers.

‘It’s not true, is it?’ she said, and turned an anxious gaze on him. ‘Billy isn’t your son. It’s obviously a pack of lies. Isn’t it?’

‘Of course it is!’ Lady Darcy exclaimed, shocked. ‘How could you even
think
Hugh capable of such behaviour?’

‘I don’t,’ Holly said firmly. ‘I’m sure it’s all just a – a mistake, a shameless attempt to slander the Darcy name…’

‘No.’ Hugh, pale and shell-shocked, lifted his face from his study of the paper. ‘It’s…’ He stopped, and drew a deep breath. ‘It may – it might be possible.’

‘What the devil do you mean?’ his father thundered. ‘You’re either the boy’s father, or you’re not!’

Hugh glanced at Holly and away again. ‘It was stupid and ill-considered,’ he muttered. ‘A party, eight years ago, in London… Imogen was there… we…’ He ploughed a hand through his hair. ‘We slept together.’

His mother dropped her fork with a clatter. His father sputtered and struggled to form a coherent sentence. Harry stood silently by the door.

Holly removed her hand from Hugh’s arm and stood up. ‘If you don’t mind,’ she said to no one in particular, ‘I’m going riding. Please excuse me.’

‘I’ll go with you,’ Hugh said, and stood.

‘Alone,’ she said.

‘But, Holly, you know what happened last time – you were thrown, and hurt. Let me go with you,’ he urged.

‘And I was
thrown
,’ she flung back, ‘because Lizzy insisted I ride that beast Thor.’

‘We needn’t talk. Just let me go with you…’

‘No! I need to get away from here. I can’t deal with this – with you – right now.’

‘I’ll go,’ Harry offered, as she brushed past him and made her way grimly across the entrance hall. He glanced at his brother and back at Holly. ‘Hugh’s right – you shouldn’t ride alone. You’re upset.’

But Holly didn’t answer. She was already out the door and on her way to the stables.

***

Lizzy Bennet lowered the
Daily Mail
to the kitchen table in disbelief.

Hugh Darcy had a
son
? And with Imogen Clarke, of all people…? She could scarcely get her head round it.

‘I don’t believe it,’ she muttered, and picked the paper up once again. ‘It’s not possible.’

‘What’s not possible?’ Emma asked, yawning as she came in and took a mug down from the cupboard.

Lizzy folded the paper and drew her mug of tea closer. ‘Nothing. It just seems that the entire world’s gone topsy-turvy. Nothing makes sense any more.’

Emma sat down across from her. ‘Such as? And don’t tell me “it’s nothing”,’ she added, and sipped her tea. ‘I always know when you’re lying.’

‘I never could keep anything from you.’ Lizzy sighed and pushed the paper towards her. ‘Look at the front page. Go ahead.’

For some minutes there was no sound but the ticking of the clock and the rustle of newsprint as Emma, her expression ranging from shock to disbelief, turned to page three to continue reading.

‘A DNA test will be ordered and, if Darcy is found to be the father,’ Emma read aloud, ‘a petition for financial support for the child will likely follow.’

She laid the paper aside. ‘Can you imagine? I’m sure Lady Sarah
and
Lady Georgina are having absolute seizures. When Imogen told us she once had a crush on Hugh, she wasn’t kidding, was she?’

‘Oh, I can certainly believe such behaviour from
her
,’ Lizzy retorted. ‘I’m sure she got with Hugh at the first opportunity, hoping she’d get pregnant and he’d marry her.’

‘But he didn’t.’ Emma frowned and sipped her tea. ‘It’s odd, really. He didn’t marry her, and she didn’t tell him he had a son. So why did she – for I’m assuming Imogen’s the one who’s bringing these allegations forward – why did she wait seven years to do it? It makes no sense.’

‘No,’ Lizzy agreed, and scraped her chair back with a grim expression. ‘It doesn’t.’

‘Where are you going?’

Lizzy bent down to retrieve her mug. ‘To Cleremont, to talk to Hugh. I intend to ask him straight out what’s going on.’

‘But – you can’t do that! Daddy’s forbidden us to go there, or have you forgotten?’

‘I haven’t forgotten.’ She paused. ‘But we’re grown women, Em, not little girls any longer. I can make my own decisions. And this is important. Daddy will just have to understand.’

And before Emma could say another word in protest, Lizzy hurried upstairs to get dressed.

Chapter 43

The ground passed by in a blur beneath Lady’s hooves as Holly urged the chestnut mare from a canter into a gallop. She gripped the horse’s flanks with her thighs as they sailed over a low stone wall and landed in the adjoining field.

She needed to get away from Cleremont, and Hugh. She needed speed, and the wind in her face, and the mindless oblivion of a good, hard gallop across the fields.

Harry followed a few lengths behind, sitting astride Thor. Although his face was grim and she was sure there were things he wanted to say to her, he leaned forward in the saddle as they raced across the fields.

Tears stung her eyes. Hugh had a
son
. He had a son, with Imogen.

We slept together
.

She could still hear those three words he’d spoken echoing in her head. He’d kept so many things from her, including the fact that he’d slept with Imogen. She leaned back instinctively as Lady leapt over a hedgerow and galloped across another field.

Holly heard Harry call out to her, but didn’t slow down; she urged Lady on, as if, together, she and the mare could outrun her troubled thoughts.

I don’t know Hugh Darcy
, she realised.
I don’t know him at all.

***

Lizzy decided to walk to Cleremont. It was a beautiful morning, with no thunderstorms or rain in the forecast. Perhaps a walk across the fields would help calm her chaotic thoughts.

She frowned and crossed her arms loosely against her chest.
Poor Hugh
. What a shock to learn, over his morning toast and coffee, that he had a son.

Worse still, he’d learned about it in the pages of a newspaper, along with the rest of the world.

Her footsteps slowed. Cleremont was certain to be besieged by reporters and overrun with news vans. Why hadn’t she considered that possibility?

Oh, well, she’d just have to go in through the kitchen entrance; there’d be no reporters hanging around there…

Her thoughts were interrupted as she heard the distant but unmistakable sound of horses’ hooves, and she looked up to see two riders galloping across the field towards her.

She shaded her eyes against the sun, curious. Harry and Holly, she realised as they came nearer. She lifted a hand.