Page 58 of Pemberley's Imposter
Wickham’s spawn was fortunately nothing like his parents but resembled his paternal grandfather, who had once been Pemberley’s excellent steward. The young lad had taken over the reins of Longbourn at a young age, which in turn had saved the estate from years of neglect. He had lately become engaged to Miss Catherine Collins, who had sadly been the sole survivor of her birth.
“Fitzwilliam!” a melodic voice beckoned from the entrance hall. “Our guests have arrived.”
“We are coming, dearest,” Darcy replied, and his feet moved decidedly towards the owner of the voice. He patted Bingley jovially on the shoulder on his way out. “Into the fray, my friend.”
“I would not call it a fray—they are all your family,” Bingley reminded him as they strode towards the door.
“Precisely. It has been four-and-twenty lively years since I married into the Bennet family, and I have since fathered more than half the brood who are present. With only your five children and Miss Collins to compete with, I have earned the right to complain. Of course, had Mary’s husband been able to leave his parish, or had not Kitty’s husband been too occupied with the harvest at Lucas Lodge for them all to attend, I would have been outnumbered.”
Elizabeth’s beaming smile radiated at him from the bottom of the stairs. She clapped her hands in joy and bounced on her toes in a display of impatient anticipation. As he reached the last step, she laced her arm around his elbow and hauled him out of the door.
It was fortunate that Ellie and her husband had arrived whilst he descended the stairs. Darcy preferred to greet his eldest daughter and avoid Collins and Wickham. Especially because she was carrying his first grandchild in a basket. Darcy lowered his head and gazed at the clear blue eyes staring back at him. He must have become affected by temporary blindness because his sight clouded. Young Master Granville was the heir to the Edensor barony, Pemberley’s neighbouring estate. The new parents had known each other since they were young children, and Ellie had declared she would marry Llewelyn upontheir introduction at the ripe old age of five, choosing him over her younger cousin Charlie.
Last to arrive were Georgiana and her husband. She had married Edward Hughes Ball Hughes in 1819, after the gentleman of modest upbringing had inherited a fortune from his step-grandfather. But even forty thousand a year was not enough to live on for that spendthrift, gambling dandy. They had hired a solicitor in 1823 to handle their finances, reducing Mr Hughes’s squandering habits by limiting him to a monthly allowance. For that reason, Darcy had never liked his new brother. Georgiana was besotted by his good looks and impressive stature and perceived no flaws in her husband. This blindness was undoubtedly the reason she was happy in her marriage. They resided in London and had but the one son, Master Edward, which was probably for the best as the father could not be bothered to save a shilling, much less a fortune for a dowry.
Darcy put aside his objections and welcomed the tired travellers.
“How was the condition of the roads?” he enquired.
“Terrible!” Hughes moaned. “Rutted and almost impassable from the moment we left the outskirts of London.” The man patted his cheeks and studied his reflection in the opaque glass in his carriage. He was thus occupied until the conveyance pulled away towards the stables.
“I am grieved to hear your journey was unpleasant,” Darcy soothed. “Please, follow me, and Mr Linney will escort you to your rooms. How is London?”
“Terribly hot, making the stench intolerable.”
“Excellent. Mr Linney!” Darcy called for his butler before he was forced to suffer any more of Mr Hughes’s endless complaints.
“Thank you for the invitation, Brother.”
Georgiana kissed his cheek before hastening after her husband. She looked very well, he thought, as Elizabeth grabbed his arm. He could sense a change in his wife’s mood and dreaded what Wickham had done to provoke the alteration.
“Did Mr Bingley mention that we excluded the Elliots from the invitations? I am suffering a guilty conscience for omitting them from our family party.”
Darcy squeezed the hand on his arm. “Not a word was spoken about Caroline or her designing, selfish, and cold-blooded Sir William. I am certain Bingley is as relieved as you and I are that the Elliots are not present. They make Jane uneasy with their cruelty and hollow black hearts.”
“True,” Elizabeth allowed with a sigh of relief. “I shall think of it no more.”
He halted their progress just outside the door and asked the footman to close it.
“Should he not wait until we are safely inside?” Elizabeth quipped wryly.
“Absolutely not,” Darcy protested and swung his wife into his arms. Elizabeth stiffened whilst her head turned in all directions to ascertain that no one was about to see them. When she had established that they were quite alone, her rigid stance relaxed into his embrace. “Because that would prohibit me from doing this.” He lowered his head and kissed her soundly—a pleasure he but rarely indulged in out of their chambers. He wasa private man and would not engage in any affair that might embarrass the children or scandalise his servants.
“I cannot object to such a reasonable request,” Elizabeth agreed and kissed him back. “I love you,” she whispered with tears welling in her eyes.
I had better cheer her spirits before the tears spill,Darcy thought whilst having no time to contemplate how he might do that. “Did you know that Bingley has gout?”
Elizabeth laughed, and every trace of sadness disappeared. Instead, she swatted his arm and reached for the door. “We must join our guests.”
“Are you certain?” he asked whilst wiggling his eyebrows.
“Yes, my virile husband, we must. Though I intend to remind you later to resume ourconversation.”
“Please do,” he agreed and followed her inside.
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“Where is Master Fitzwilliam?” Jane enquired.
