He reached for her hand and pressed it gently. “Thank you, Elizabeth, for doing what was needful. You have helped to spare us a new round of gossip, at least for the moment.”
She met his gaze, still indignant. “Fitzwilliam, how shall we prevent a repetition of this, of this wanton behavior?”
Darcy sighed. “I must speak with her father. I shall inform him, firmly but civilly, that his daughter’s past conduct renders her unwelcome in this neighborhood. It would be best if he returned her to her relations in Scotland.”
Elizabeth’s brow furrowed. “You will not go there yourself, will you? I cannot bear the thought of her pressing her body or her attentions upon you again.”
Richard interjected. “No need for that. Darcy can send a note and invite her father here instead. We will both speak with him. Between the three of us, and perhaps Lewis too, the matter can be managed.”
Elizabeth exhaled slowly. “Do you think the rumors will spread again?” She looked at him, her brow furrowed with worry. “Sir, will she tarnish your name?”
Darcy shook his head. “No, my love. Everyone knows the truth of her past and with whom her indiscretion lay. My name will remain safe, provided we do not spend time together. Such an association would be interpreted in the worst possible manner.”
Elizabeth relaxed slightly. “Very well. But promise me, Fitzwilliam, you will not see her again.”
He met her eyes gravely. “You have my word, Elizabeth. I shall not visit her father’s estate. Tomorrow I will send the letter of invitation. He will come, we will speak, and with luck, she will soon return to her relations before she disgraces herself again.”
Elizabeth leaned back against the squabs, still uneasy. “God grant it so,” she murmured.
“Lizzy, will you walk out with me to the rose garden?” It was early the following morning, and Jane’s expression was troubled.
Elizabeth looked up with raised brows. “Of course. Let me fetch my bonnet.”
The two women walked out into the fine weather. Elizabeth turned to her sister. “What is it, Jane?”
“Charles is all that is amiable, but I worry about his resolve.”
Elizabeth regarded her sister with concern. “I have been watching the two of you. You utterly transfix him, and you have seemed perfectly contented. The two of you are forever to be found sitting together or walking in the garden, talking withsuch earnestness. I have had no cause for concern over your courtship or the steady growth of your affection. What has made you question his resolve now, after so many weeks of harmony and happiness?”
“Caroline wrote to Charles. She wishes to visit us this winter after we have moved back to London. He agreed to let her.”
“Will her husband also be making a visit?”
“No. That is why she wishes to come. Her husband must remain behind to supervise construction. Evidently, it is quite an undertaking. Caroline does not wish to be buried in the countryside during the London season.”
Elizabeth placed an arm around Jane’s waist. “Has he already granted her permission, or is there still time to reconsider?”
The sisters were deep in conversation when Elizabeth heard the thud of hooves and looked up. Her husband was riding in on Rowan, the magnificent black stallion he had purchased from a Scottish breeder. She turned to see who accompanied him and beheld the lovely Miss Ashbrook, splendid in her forest-green riding habit, a smart hat tipped to one side, and a small whip in her hand.
She brought her chestnut mare to an abrupt halt beside Rowan, and with laughing eyes looked up at Mr. Darcy. “My dear friend, that was a lovely gallop. We must do it again soon.” She reached over and placed a hand upon his arm.
Elizabeth felt herself bristle. When she rose, Darcy glanced toward the garden and smiled. She saw him relax, and the thought flickered that perhaps he had not enjoyed his romp with his old flame. Nevertheless, the sight pierced her to the heart. He had promised never to be in that woman’s company.
She walked toward the pair but stopped a safe distance from the horses. Darcy dismounted, threw his reins to the ground, and walked toward her. Elizabeth saw Miss Ashbrook’s sugary smile shift into a look of malice. That woman had designs upon her husband, wicked designs. Did she hope to become his mistress? Something inside her shifted. She would never have him, except over her dead body.
“Fitzwilliam, you are returned early from your ride,” Elizabeth said. She looked down at the little watch pinned to her gown. “Why, you have been out only half an hour, sir.” Her eyes turned to Miss Ashbrook. “But perhaps you found the company uninspiring.”
Then she rose on tiptoe, slipped her arms around his neck, and kissed Mr. Darcy on the mouth. She had not expected his response. He returned the kiss, gently at first, then more firmly as his arms encircled her waist and drew her close.
She pulled back, breathless. “Excuse me, sir. I forgot myself. A gentlewoman should never permit such attentions in public and before company. What would my papa say to such goings-on?” She looked past his shoulder at the intruder. “Why, Miss Ashbrook, I forgot myself, and I beg your pardon. It is much too early for morning callers, madam. It is only half past eight. You will excuse us, I trust?”
She took Darcy’s arm and wove her own firmly through it. “Sir, my sister and I have need of your counsel. Will you join us in the garden?”
Darcy walked as one led by an invisible cord, docile and obedient. Rowan followed behind, reins dragging upon the ground as he nipped at the grass.
Miss Ashbrook remained seated upon her horse. Never had she been so dismissed, and by this young, unremarkable woman. She had inquired about Elizabeth Bennet Darcy and learned that her father owned a small estate entailed to a distant cousin, and that she had never been to finishing school, nor traveled, nor done anything of note. Yet she had captured Fitzwilliam Darcy, and now he could never belong to her as he once had.
She had held his affections cheaply in those days, for there had been many suitors to choose from. He had been reticent and dull, though her father had favored the match. She would have lived close to her dear Papa. But that was all gone now, and by the look of things, he was entirely under this woman’s influence. He had gone with her as if led by the nose.
