Page 42 of Till Death Us Do Part: Book 2
“You will of course reimburse my expenses, as I will have to stand you a loan to get you back to England in one piece.”
“Of course. I suppose it would not hurt you if I set up a pension for you as well; or paid back double or treble.”
“That will not be necessary, but I appreciate the offer.”
“Still, that is only repayment of a tiny debt. What else is there?”
The major looked carefully at him. “Take my niece to England and see that she is well set up. Help her enter society, using your own good name and standing as surety. If she desires, help her open a shop, get a husband, whatever she needs. Take it upon yourself to see she is well established—and by that, I mean well-established by your standards.”
Darcy nodded enthusiastically. “I will happily do so. I will treat her as I would a relative and would have no qualms setting her a good dowry, introducing her, and so forth. I must say, though, that you ask so little. It does not seem fair.”
The major just shrugged. “You ask little yourself. To be honest, the army has entirely lost track of your cousin, but when things get chaotic, it is equally likely he would be released or shot. For the moment, extracting him will not be difficult, since nobody even cares.”
“It seems I have to spend six months to do five minutes’ work.”
“Things often turn out that way, young man.”
Darcy sighed, content for the first time in ages. He felt optimistic. All would be well. He would get Richard back. He could easily set up the major’s niece in any way she wanted. It seemed unlikely it would be difficult.
He was just wondering in his mind how he would take care of the niece when he asked, “By the way, who is this niece I am to take care of?”
The major just chuckled. “Can you not guess?”
Darcy thought a moment, then realisation suddenly dawned on him. He laughed. “Mlle Babette?”
The major laughed heartily. “Cannot get anything past you—at least if I give you long enough to mull it over, and plenty of hints.”
“You are aware I already offered that, and far more, to her and Nurse Dashwood, several times, emphatically, but without success.”
“Leave her to me.”
“I will assume you can succeed where I fail, since I seem to be the least skilled man for dealing with the fair sex in EnglandorFrance.”
“That, I will give you, M Darcy. That one, I will give you.”
After that, everything seemed anticlimactic. True to the major’s word, his cousin Richard arrived auspiciously on the twenty-fourth of June, the day that Napoleon began the Russian campaign. His cousin was greeted warmly and seemed none the worse for wear. Richard commented on Darcy’s loss of weight and vigour, but allowed that being not-dead was in his favour. Being married was also to be recommended in his opinion, while being in his wife’s brown books—less so.
With the major’s help, the pair, along with both nurses—after a substantial row between Babette and her uncle—was on their way to the port, and then on a boat for England. The crossing took a fortnight, and before anyone knew it, they landed in Dover in early July.
Darcy was in no mood for delay, so Richard agreed to escort both young ladies to Matlock to meet his parents, see if he was now the heir, and generally get them settled to wait for Darcy to see how matters stood at Pemberley. Neither lady was in any hurry to join society or decide her future, and neither gentleman was in a hurry to press them. They had the luxury of time, fairly earned, and, given Mlle Babette’s beauty or Miss Dashwood’s sense and education, he would not be surprised if one of them became Richard’s countess.
Darcy hired the fastest coach he could find, and set out for Pemberley at a breakneck pace, sparing no expense, changing horses often, starting early and going late, until he finally pulled up to the front door of his ancestral home on the twenty-third of July, exactly seven months to the day after his wedding.
16.Welcome Home
Looking out the window of the carriage as he drove up to his ancestral home, Darcy was not the least bit surprised to see his butler and housekeeper standing on the top steps to welcome him, surrounded by a few more footmen and maids. He was only carrying a small valise, so he did not need much help, but it was heartening to see something approaching normalcy.
Unfortunately, he didnotsee his wife. He had written three letters that should have arrived weeks earlier, as well as letters to his butler and steward. He supposed her absence indicated her lack of appreciation for the content of his letters. He assumed that meant he had more work to do than expected, but that was hardly surprising. To tell the truth, he expected a chilled reception, but not quitethatchilled.
“Welcome home, sir,” came from Jennings, who sounded far graver than butlers usually allowed themselves. Mrs Reynolds and the rest of the staff repeated the greetings, and they all exchanged the usual courtesies.
A few minutes later, his steward, Mr Knight, appeared on horseback, no doubt notified when he crested the top of the hill. He greeted Knight warmly, along with the rest of the staff who were out to see the master, then suggested he could use some refreshment after the long journey.
Once he arrived in the Yellow Parlour and Jennings closed the door, he turned anxiously to his housekeeper, butler and steward, and asked pensively, “Where is Mrs Darcy?”
The three looked at each other fretfully, and Jennings finally answered, “We were hoping you could tell us, sir.”
Darcy started, and snapped, “What do you mean?”
