What did Clive mean to insinuate? I had done nothing wrong in cultivating a friendship with Sarah. I had not coerced her in any way. “Sarah is a woman of keen understanding. I have no concerns for her.”
“You may as well know you cannot take Lady Catherine in place of Mr. Darcy. If you are to make a substitution, you must choose someone within a few years of his age.”
Blast!My head bowed. Despite the fantasy I had been entertaining of a life with Elizabeth, I had never accepted in my heart that Darcy would die. However, it appeared that saving him would be much more difficult than I had anticipated. “Why must there be so many complicated rules?”
“To dissuade you from interfering, I imagine.” Clive moved closer. “Brother, I can understand the desire to learn how mortals live and to experience life in their world, but though you may seem to fit in among these people, you are not one of them. Do not forget that.”
“Do not be concerned for me. I have not lost sight of who I am. During my stay here, I hope to be of assistance to the Darcys and to the people around them. In fact, I believe I already have been helpful. In revealing to Mr. Darcy my true identity and making him aware that I delayed his death, I have prepared him to face his own mortality. There must be an advantage in that.”
Clive rubbed his eyes. He opened his mouth as though to speak, but with a slight shake of his head, he seemed to change his mind. “When I leave you, I shall go to Father and do my best to placate him.”
“Thank you. Rest assured, I have everything in hand here. There is no cause for his concern.” I drew taller, attempting to portray confidence and tranquillity.
My brother’s eyes fixed upon me for a long moment. “Very well. I shall take you at your word. Goodbye.”
“Goodbye, Clive.”
Without the least bit of flourish—not even a cloud of dust—my brother vanished.
Good riddance!I removed my handkerchief from my pocket and dabbed at the dampness upon my forehead before resuming my walk. My customary smile seemed to be beyond me, though, and my stride lacked its usual vitality as the implications of Clive’s words revolved in my head.
Chapter 7: Bitter Remembrances
Pemberley
Lady Catherine
The sound of Bennet’s high-pitched yells drew me to the drawing-room window. I pulled aside the curtain enough to give me an unobstructed view whilst I remained hidden behind the fabric. Darcy and Elizabeth stood on either side of the child on a section of Pemberley’s lawns. They took turns rolling a ball to the boy, who fumbled in his attempts to catch the toy and roll it back.
Their collie stood to the side, his body weight on his haunches, positioned to spring into action whenever Bennet sent the ball astray. On those occasions, the dog sprinted after the ball and carried it to Elizabeth or Darcy.
The sonorous, joyful sounds of Bennet’s laughter and the dog’s barks taunted my resolve. But I should not waver from my mission.
My nephew’s uncouth, undignified display of childish conduct provided yet another example of Elizabeth’s influence upon him. She had turned him into a namby-pamby shadow of his former self. Of course, to any objective observer, the three of them made a pretty picture, yet they would not exist but for the treacherous plot of a scheming mercenary.
Earlier, Elizabeth had invited me to accompany them to the lawn and sit on one of the chairs, but I had declined. Her obvious attempts to gain my favour would never succeed. What self-deluded arrogance the woman possessed—as if aught she did could make me forget the unrelenting injury done to Anne! If I had known then what I know now, I could have prevented this disaster, and Darcy would be married to Anne instead of that strumpet. I underestimated Elizabeth then. In an unrivalled show of generosity, I bestowed undue attention upon her—a deplorable mistake!
Memories flooded my mind of that fateful spring and the events that followed.
March 1812
Rosings Park Estate, Kent
Lady Catherine
I had been reading the latest copy of Ladies Monthly Museum in my sitting room when Anne entered, taking a seat beside me.
“Mother, I am now five-and-twenty. For as long as I can remember, you have told me that Darcy and I should marry one day. In the past, I accepted this as fact, but now I have my doubts.”
What was this? Anne had never expressed such uncertainty before. I set my magazine aside. “You may be assured that he will marry you. Lady Anne had wanted you to be his bride, and he will not go against his late mother's wishes.”
My daughter’s fingers gripped and twisted the fabric of her skirt. “When Uncle George still lived, Darcy and I used to talk during his visits. We shared engaging conversations back then on the subjects of literature, history, and music. After his father’s death, he grew despondent for a time. But even well past his mourning period, he ceased paying me anything but the bare minimum of attention. If he intended to wed me, would he not spend time in my company?”
I released a derisive laugh. “You have been reading too many romance novels. Why should Darcy need to spend time with you now when he will have the rest of his life to do so?”
“Very well. I guess you are correct.” Anne took her leave and slipped from the room.
Nevertheless, I could not return to my reading with the same calmness of temper as before. Was Anne’s fear unfounded? It must be so! The gossips remarked upon Darcy’s every move in London, so if he had ever shown an interest in any particular lady, I should have heard of it. Other gentleman had dalliances with actresses and kept mistresses, but not Darcy. He had given me no reason to doubt he would fulfil the plan his mother and I had conceived so long ago.
