Page 42 of Master of Netherfield
“Will the young master arrive in time? Will that woman make off with the riches of Pemberley?” asked many townsfolk in whispers to their neighbours.
“How many wagons will she fill with furniture when she departs?” asked the servants of the great house.
And the farmers asked with worry in their voices, “What of her child? Will Mr Darcy disinherit his son for his bastard?”
No one expected the young master to arrive in Derbyshire before Monday and so when he rode through Lambton on Saturday afternoon with only his valet as company, few people noticed. In the park the riders passed the carriage carrying the doctor returning to check on MrDarcy and thus William arrived at his father’s door before six of the clock on Saturday afternoon.
He banged on the door for a full two minutes before mounting his horse once again and riding around to the stables where he found stable boys. Leaving the horses in their hands, he threw a saddlebag over his shoulder and entered Pemberley through the kitchens.
“Master Fitzwilliam!” greeted the cook who recognized the young man and his valet.
“Where is my father?” he asked Mrs Reynolds when the housekeeper came out of her office, greatly surprised to have the young man home this quickly.
“He is in the green room sir,” Mrs Reynolds said. “If you will follow me, I shall take you there. Would you care to...”
“No. I shall see my father first,” William said.
He glanced at his valet and said, “Harris, refresh yourself. We shall dine in my rooms tonight and see about clothing tomorrow.”
“I shall have a bath prepared for you before supper, sir,” Harris insisted.
Nodding once, William followed the housekeeper. Once they were on the stairs with none of the servants about, he asked, “Tell me how he fares.”
“It is only a matter of time, Master William. I believe he waits to see you once again before letting himself go.”
William slowed his steps slightly. “My sister will arrive Monday. I hope my father remains long enough to bid her farewell.”
At the top of the stairs, William was met by a woman richly dressed in the latest London styles.
“Mrs Reynolds,” the woman asked. “Who is this ruffian you have admitted to Pemberley?”
Realizing this must be his father’s mistress; the young man stepped forward and announced himself, “I am Fitzwilliam Darcy come to see my father. Who are you to be so free in the halls of my father?”
The woman blushed but replied, “I am a good friend of your father’s, Mrs Murray.”
“I understood you to have a house in Lambton, Mrs Murray,” William said as he came to the top of the stairs.
“Mr Darcy has invited me to be here in the house these many months with my son.”
Darcy’s mouth twisted for a moment only before he replied. “As this house is dealing with illness, I am certain you and your son will behappier at your own home. A carriage will be called for your safe transport this afternoon.”
“My maid cannot pack my things so quickly,” Mrs Murray replied. “And Mr Darcy has sent for his solicitors. I shall not leave this house before...”
William stepped closer and spoke quietly. “Do not attempt to threaten me madam. You have one hour to leave this house with your dignity intact. Longer than a single hour and you will find yourself pushed from the front door with a walk of five miles to Lambton.”
There was silence at the top of the stairs for a moment before William repeated, “One hour.”
“Now see here...” the woman began to say.
At just that moment, the physician came up the stairs with his bag of medicines and began talking to William. “Master William, I am glad you have come. There is not much time remaining, and Mr Darcy has asked for you several times. Allow me to take you to your father sir.”
“Thank you,” William told the physician.
He turned to Mrs Reynolds and said, “If you will order a carriage and see to that Mrs Murray is escorted to the door in one hour.”
“But what of the solicitors?” asked Mrs Murray.
William turned around and said, “Madam, I am a gentleman. My father’s wishes will be fulfilled once he makes them known to me.”
