What Would Lizzy Bennet Do? (37 page)

Breathing fast, their faces flushed, the two of them slowed to a walk and reined in. ‘Morning, Lizzy,’ Harry called out. ‘We’re on our way to Rosings. Are you headed to Cleremont?’

She nodded and cast Holly a brief glance. ‘I’m going to see Hugh.’

‘I wouldn’t recommend it,’ Holly said. ‘Everything’s pandemonium and there’s a boatload of reporters out front. You’ll never get past them.’

‘Then I’ll go in through the kitchen entrance,’ Lizzy replied. ‘I need to make sure Hugh’s all right.’

‘He’s fine. And shouldn’t that be
my
concern?’ Holly’s hands tightened on the reins. ‘I’m his fiancée, after all, not you.’

Lizzy rounded on her. ‘Then why aren’t you with him? Why aren’t you at Cleremont, helping him through this nightmare?’ she demanded. ‘Instead, you decided to go
riding
?’
And with his brother
, she nearly added, but didn’t.

‘Not that it’s any of your business,’ Holly flung back, ‘but I needed to get away and think. Riding is how I’m coping at the moment. I’m sorry if you don’t approve.’

‘What I don’t approve of is your selfishness,’ Lizzy retorted. ‘With something like this happening to the man you supposedly love – the man you’re planning to marry! – you should support him. You should have his back. You shouldn’t bugger off at the first sign of trouble and run away like a – a spoilt little cow!’

‘All right, Lizzy, that’s enough,’ Harry warned her, and dismounted. ‘Holly’s just as upset as you are, as we all are. Let’s just calm down, shall we?’

Lizzy glared at Holly and brushed past him. ‘I have to go. Hugh needs me.’

‘How dare you.’ Holly swung down from Lady and tossed the reins at Harry as she stalked over to face the Bennet girl. ‘You act as though Hugh belongs to you, as though he’s your personal property. He’s not.’

‘No, he’s not. He’s my good and dear
friend
,’ Lizzy informed her, her face flushed with angry passion, ‘whom I care about very deeply. He’ll always be my friend. My feelings aren’t altered by his mistakes or shortcomings. I know he’s judgemental and imperfect, and I know he’ll always put Cleremont first. I love him despite – no, because of – those things.’ She clenched her fists at her sides. ‘I love him. There, I’ve said it! I love Hugh Darcy. I always have done, and I always will. But I can’t have him; he belongs to you. All I can do now is go to him, and comfort him, and help him through this mess, and you won’t stop me doing that.’

Holly felt her throat thicken. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. ‘No, I won’t.’ She paused. ‘If what you say is true, perhaps
you
should marry him.’

Lizzy stared at her. ‘What?’

‘Marry Hugh. I’m afraid I can’t.’ Holly spoke calmly. ‘He doesn’t love me. I don’t think he ever did.’ She took the reins from Harry with trembling hands. ‘I have to face facts. Hugh loves you, Lizzy, and I think – I really think he always has.’

***

Lizzy returned to Cleremont, her thoughts in a muddle as she climbed the stile and stepped down into the adjoining field.

Could it be true?
she wondered as she struck out through the grass. Did Hugh Darcy love her, as Holly and Lady de Byrne claimed? Had he loved her all along?

She shook her head, determined not to give in to useless fancies. Hugh was engaged to Holly, and nothing would alter that single, irrefutable fact. Not this latest scandal, nor Holly and Lady Georgina’s protestations to the contrary.

Nothing would stop the wedding from happening.

Despite what Hugh’s godmother had told her, Lizzy knew Holly was far more suited to marry a man like Hugh Darcy than she’d ever be. Holly had the proper education, her family was wealthy, and she navigated social situations and aristocratic protocol with aplomb – something Lizzy, with her odd mixture of passion and reticence, could never quite manage.

Of course, she consoled herself, Holly couldn’t run a church fête, or sit a horse half as well as she could…

‘Lizzy!’

She looked up, surprised to see Hugh Darcy astride a dapple-grey stallion, galloping towards her. She waited as he reined in and drew up, breathless, beside her.

‘Hugh? What are you doing here? I thought you were at Cleremont. I was just on my way to…’ she stopped. ‘To see you,’ she admitted.

He dismounted and turned to her. ‘I’m going to Rosings.’ His eyes darkened. ‘I assume you’ve heard about this latest scandal. The media’s already camped outside our front door.’

‘Yes, I have. I’m sorry for you and your family. What you’re going through right now… it must be awful.’

‘Sorry?’ he echoed, and scowled. ‘If anyone should be sorry, it’s me. I’m to blame for all of this – for humiliating Holly, and bringing shame on my family…’

‘You’re guilty of nothing more than being human.’ She reached out and took his hand firmly in hers. ‘How many foolish things have I done in my past? Too many to count! But I forgave myself, and you must do the same.’

‘I regret hurting you. I regret that more than anything else.’

Lizzy made a dismissive gesture. ‘I’m not hurt, I’m angry – angry for
you
. That story’s based on nothing more than rumours and allegations,’ she said, and squeezed his hand in reassurance. ‘There’s not one hard fact in the entire article.’ She frowned. ‘And I’m sure you’re not the only man Imogen slept with at the time. Anyone might be the father of that boy.’

‘Your loyalty is far more than I deserve.’ His horse neighed restively, and Hugh reached in his pocket for a carrot and held it out to the stallion. ‘You always know what to say to make me feel better and improve even my blackest mood.’

‘Well, I won’t deny you have your moods.’ She smiled. ‘But I’m used to them by now.’ Lizzy released his hand. ‘Why are you going to Rosings?’

‘To have it out with Imogen, of course. I want to know why she’s doing this.’

‘Oh, Hugh – do you think that’s wise? You don’t want to upset Lady Georgina.’

‘I’m afraid it’s too late for that. She’s bound to know what’s happened by now. And I have to face this down sooner or later. I might as well deal with it now.’

‘Take me with you,’ Lizzy said impulsively as he swung himself up and into the saddle.

‘I don’t think that’s a good idea,’ he said, his expression doubtful as he looked down at her upturned face. ‘Our confrontation is bound to be unpleasant.’

‘I don’t care. I want to go along.’ She reached determinedly for the pommel, and Hugh leaned down to help her up and into the saddle in front of him.

His arms came around her as he took up the reins. ‘Are you sure about this?’

She turned to smile at him. ‘I am.’

And as he smiled back at her and nudged the stallion into a walk, Lizzy leaned against him, knowing that there was nowhere else in South Devon – or, indeed, in the world – that she would rather be.

***

When they arrived at Rosings twenty minutes later, news vans and mobile units clogged the drive, and reporters were gathered in front of the house.

‘Bloody press.’ Hugh scowled and urged the dapple grey around to the stables, ignoring the cries and camera flashes that erupted behind them as they were spotted.

‘Now,’ he said as they dismounted and the groom took the horse, ‘let’s go and see how Lady Georgina’s faring.’

They made their way through the rose garden – Lady de Byrne’s pride – and up the terrace steps. Halfway across the flagstones Banks appeared at the French doors, his face stamped with a formidable scowl.

‘Ah – Mr Darcy and Miss Bennet,’ he said, and his expression relaxed. ‘My pardon, I thought you were reporters. Come in. Hurry,’ he urged, ‘before those odious news people see you.’

‘Too late, they already have,’ Hugh said as they entered the drawing room. ‘Where’s Lady Georgina?’

But an answer proved unnecessary as the sound of raised voices in the entrance hall reached their ears, and he and Holly hurried forward with Banks in their wake.

‘…a complete and utter disgrace!’ Lady de Byrne cried. ‘Dragging your name, not to mention your son’s name, through the media muck like this – I can scarcely believe it of you!’

‘I’ve told you, Mother, I know nothing about it!’

Imogen, her face flushed with anger, stood facing Lady de Byrne at the foot of the stairs. She looked up as Hugh and Holly appeared in the drawing room doorway.

‘Hugh,’ his godmother said, relieved. ‘Thank God you’re here.’

‘Are you all right?’ he asked.

Lady Georgina waved a hand at him in a gesture of impatience. ‘I’m fine.’ She glared at her daughter. ‘Furious, but fine.’

‘I didn’t do this,’ Imogen blurted out as Hugh turned to her with a grim expression. ‘I didn’t go to the press with this story, I swear it.’

‘Then who did?’ he demanded. ‘Who else but you would make these allegations?’

There was a sound above them, on the staircase. ‘I did.’

They all looked up, startled, to see Oliver Slade standing at the top of the stairs.

‘
You?
’ Imogen stared at him. ‘Of course, I should’ve known! But… why? Why would you do such a thing to me, to Billy?’

‘For the money, obviously,’ Hugh said, and met the other man’s eyes. ‘He must’ve done some digging, pieced together the story, and handed it over to the press.’

‘No digging necessary.’ Oliver’s gaze flickered to Imogen and back to Hugh. ‘Immy told me that you and she had a fling once, years ago – eight years, to be exact. I did the maths.’ He descended a step. ‘You must admit it makes for a good story. The public love a nice, juicy scandal, especially if it involves an overprivileged aristo like yourself. Sells lots of papers.’

‘You do realise I’ll sue you and your newspaper for libel, don’t you?’ Hugh said.

‘It isn’t libel if it proves to be true.’ He shrugged. ‘A DNA test will undoubtedly verify my theory that you’re the boy’s father. And then you – like the rest of your wealthy, overprivileged ilk – will be held to account for your actions.’

Hugh tensed, but Lizzy caught his arm. ‘Don’t,’ she said, her voice low but fierce. ‘He only wants to provoke you.’

‘I think it’s time you took moral and financial responsibility for your son,’ Slade added. ‘After all, as it stands right now, the result of your little fling with Imogen is next in line to inherit the title.’

Hugh shook Lizzy’s arm off. ‘You slimy, muckraking bastard…’

‘Stop it, please,’ Imogen cried, and glared at Slade. ‘You’re wrong, Oliver. You’ve got it all completely wrong.’ She glanced at Hugh, then her mother.

‘What do you mean?’ Lady Georgina demanded. ‘Quit speaking in riddles, girl, and explain yourself!’

Imogen took a deep, shuddery breath. ‘The fact is, mother – Hugh isn’t Billy’s father.’ She turned and stared at the man on the stairs. ‘You are, Oliver. Billy’s
your
son.’

Chapter 44

In the shocked silence that followed her admission, Imogen spoke again.

‘Hugh and I ran into each other at a private party at Mahiki several years ago. We’d both had more than a few drinks, and…’ She stopped. ‘And we slept together. I was on the Pill, so I was ninety-nine per cent certain Billy wasn’t his. I never thought otherwise.’

‘Then why did you lead me to believe that Darcy was the father?’ Oliver demanded.

‘Because I didn’t want you to know the truth – that Billy was yours.’

A gamut of emotions – shock, disbelief and outrage among them – passed over Slade’s face. ‘And why not? Why the bloody
hell
,’ he demanded, ‘didn’t you tell me? Didn’t you think I had a right to know I had a son?’

‘Oh, don’t give me that “I had a right to know” bollocks. You were far too busy chasing stories and skirts to make time for a proper relationship, much less a child. That’s never changed. You’re not exactly father material, are you?’

‘And what gives you the right to make that judgement?’ he demanded. ‘Your moral superiority? Your posh upbringing? Your family’s wealth?’

‘What’s wrong? Why is everybody shouting?’ Billy stood at the top of the stairs and regarded them all with a wary expression.

Imogen ran up the stairs and brushed past Oliver to wrap her arms around the boy. ‘Nothing’s wrong, darling. It’s just a bit of silly, grown-up drama.’

‘We need to talk about this, Immy,’ Oliver told her, white-lipped with anger.

‘And we will.’ Her voice was level. ‘But not now.’ She turned back to her son and led him back upstairs.

Lizzy, standing in the drawing room doorway next to Hugh, felt her mobile vibrate in her pocket.

‘I’ve just got a text,’ she told him in a low voice, and glanced down at the screen. ‘From Emma.’

She opened the message and, as she read the words, the colour drained from her face.

‘What is it?’ Hugh asked, seeing her expression. ‘What’s wrong?’

Lizzy dropped the phone back into her pocket with trembling hands and turned to him. ‘It’s Charlotte. Emma says our sister’s run off with Ciaran Duncan.’

***

The distant sound of shouting reached Holly’s ears as she and Harry turned their horses towards Rosings.

She frowned and leaned forward in the saddle. ‘What on earth…?’

‘It looks like Emma,’ Harry said as he drew his horse alongside hers. ‘It
is
Emma.’

They urged the horses forward and rode out to meet the eldest Bennet sister halfway across the field. Her face was flushed and swollen with tears as she came to a stop before them.

‘Em, what’s wrong?’ Harry demanded in alarm, and flung the reins aside as he swung down from his mount. ‘It’s not your father, is it…?’

‘No,’ she said, her breath coming in ragged gasps, ‘although he’s beside himself with worry at the moment. It’s Charli.’

Holly dismounted as well. ‘Is she all right? She’s not hurt?’

‘No,’ Emma said again, ‘nothing like that. She’s…’ She stopped. ‘She’s run off with that awful Ciaran Duncan!’ She broke into a fresh spate of tears.

Harry put his arm round her shoulders and frowned. ‘When did this happen?’

‘J-just now,’ she sobbed. ‘I went upstairs to wake her for breakfast, and s-she wasn’t in her room.’ She fumbled in her pocket and withdrew a crumpled piece of paper. ‘She left this on her dressing table.’