Sharon Lathan - The Trouble with Mr. Darcy

“Of course. It is the best in London, and fortuitously close to Angelo’s. By the way, I know I spoke of taking Alexander to the studio to observe the fencing, but I fear I cannot take him with me as I desired. I have appointments with Duke Grafton and Mr. Clemens at White’s immediately following. Thankfully, I had not revealed my plan to him so he shan’t be disappointed. I will take him on another day and fence myself instead.”

“Actually, that is fortunate. We can work together in the garden this afternoon when the sun is beyond the walls and not so scorching. I have those seedlings that Mr. Clark prepared for me yet to plant and have not had the time to do so. I want to plant them in the far garden, in the clearing between the cypress and willow trees. That is the most spacious area for the children to have plots of their own that will grow with them. Mr. Clark gave me some great pointers so I do pray the seedlings have not withered with the delay.”

“I know Alexander is anxious to plant the sunflowers we brought from Pemberley. He is fascinated by sunflowers and I fear his displeasure when they do not fully complete their life cycle before we depart. I cannot make him understand the passage of natural time as yet.”

“He will learn eventually, love. And we have his sunflowers at home to harvest and ease his disappointment.”

Darcy laughed. “I warn you, he will likely spend more time building dirt structures and searching for insects. That is what I did as a boy. An appreciation for horticulture came much later.”

“Well, a man of the earth like his papa should start with the earth, I believe. So he can dig all he wants. A little dirt never hurt anyone. Mrs. Smyth balked at the idea of dirt playing and nearly fainted at the idea of insects in the house when I asked for a glass jar to store any intriguing specimens he discovers.”

“Mrs. Smyth will need to adjust. Examining God’s smallest creatures is an educational pursuit and scrubbing through the ground makes a boy stronger.”

“So, while I entertain the women, you and the other husbands shall be dining at Estad’s. At least promise me you will take the time to kiss me good-day before you depart into the wilds of London?”

He smiled, stroking over her soft cheek. “I promise. And if it is kisses you want, we have a few more minutes before the urgency for coffee and food overwhelms. Come here, Mrs. Darcy.”

“Come,” Darcy boomed into the air, the study door opening briskly to reveal the retired Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam. “Richard!” Darcy said with surprise, rising to greet his cousin with a handclasp. “Was noontime not soon enough to share my company?”

He extended a hand to the leather Chippendale across from his parchment-scattered desk, Richard dropping into it with a sigh.

“I thought you might be missing my smiling face, Cousin.” He grinned, reaching to pour a cup of coffee from the silver pot sitting on the edge of the massive desk. “Seriously, please pardon the interruption, William. I know you are busy.” He paused to sweep a hand over the mass of papers piled on the smooth, polished surface. “I thought you paid people to manage for you. What is the point of being obscenely rich if you have to work so hard?”

“You are lazy and an autocrat.” Darcy accused with a shake of his head, Richard shrugging and not denying the tease. “You know I prefer to attend to my business personally. However, I am striving to sell a few of my interests and consolidate. I would rather focus on the mills, Pemberley estate, and my horses, reinvesting some of my money into improving those areas. I am being pulled in too many directions, and I want to devote more time to my family and travel. It will take some time and I need to be wise in my choices, but a major thrust this year has been to begin liquidating and reinvesting into the estate and some stocks that do not require my involvement. Interested in part ownership of a German steel mill?”

Richard grunted. “As you said, I am lazy. And newly married, retired, and preparing to do my part in increasing England’s population.”

“Are you trying to tell me Lady Simone is burdened with a little Fitzwilliam?”

“Wipe that smirk off your face, and do not breathe a word to Elizabeth or I will dust off my rapier and run you through. We are not certain as yet and if my wife knew I was saying anything before she has the chance to proclaim the news to her lady friends, and especially my mother, she would skewer me herself.”

“Your secret is safe, Cousin. I do pray you are blessed with a positive confirmation soon. Elizabeth will be beside herself with joy and Aunt Madeline will be uncontainable.”

“After she recovers from her seizure. I swear she still thinks my marriage is all a happy dream that she will wake from imminently.”

Darcy laughed. “As do we all, my friend. Now, why are you really here if it is not to make an announcement?”

Richard sat forward, suddenly a colonel even if wearing a finely tailored suit similar to Darcy’s. “My associates returned from Devon.”

Darcy’s face lost all traces of jocularity, eyes intent and mouth set. “Proceed.”

“Some of what they reported you already know, but I paid them to be thorough.”

“I owe you for that, by the way.”

Richard waved a hand dismissively. “Forget it. It is my pleasure and you can pay me in father-related advice.” He reached into an inner pocket of his jacket, removing a sheath of folded papers as he continued. “I gave my associates little information other than names. I wanted them to be thorough without any prior biases or assumptions. Therefore most of the information written on these pages is redundant, as we already know the rumors. But they were assiduous in their search and record keeping. I spent most of last night after returning home sifting through this, much to my beautiful wife’s vexation, so you owe me a drink or two for that sacrifice on my part.”

He smiled, but Darcy only nodded, eyes on the pages in Richard’s hands.

Richard cleared his throat and resumed. “As you know, after recovering from the wounds you inflicted, Orman retreated to his estate in Devon and sold the one in Derbyshire. All the stories say that he hid himself behind the thick stonewalls and steadfastly began drinking himself into an early grave. That is difficult to verify, but the estate fell into disrepair within months with more than half the employees let go, so he clearly was not managing effectively. And there is some evidence that the local distributors of spirits have profited from his full-time residency, so there is probably some truth in that rumor. All of this, in addition to his selling of the London townhouse he owned, led to talk of financial woes.

“You also know how the rumors of his injuries escalated. I specifically charged my associates to discover the truth. It was difficult, but they finally learned that he is not completely crippled. He is able to walk, but haltingly with a severe limp, extreme pain, and the use of a crutch. He is not too pretty between the scars you gave him and the beauty that Lizzy delivered to his cheek. And apparently the gash to his thigh area, with subsequent festering, rendered him impotent.”

Darcy was genuinely taken aback at that, instinctively clenching his own thighs together at the horror of such a fate, before remembering that in Lord Orman’s case this was likely a blessing.

Richard shook his head, reading Darcy’s expressions. “It is not the positive you may imagine. Sure, he can no longer rape a woman, but he has transferred his anger, bitterness, and lechery to assaulting in other ways. Tragically that fact is the only way my friends were able to get any personal information. Orman never leaves his estate and no one visits him, except for select prostitutes from a local bordello.”