Regina Jeffers: The Phantom of Pemberley: A Pride and Prejudice Murder Mystery

Adam Lawrence stared at Darcy. Despite his seething anger, Lawrence could not help but respect Fitzwilliam Darcy for his vision and his sense of purpose. The man knew his place in the world—knew his duty.Adam had always wanted that type of confidence. His own confidence was no more than bravado.“Miss Donnel and I will be decorum’s models, sir.You have my word on it.”

“Then explain things to the lady while I speak to Mrs. Darcy and her sister.” Darcy moved away, leaving the viscount to do what he had promised.

Elizabeth had rushed from Darcy’s side, trying to locate Lydia and tone down her sister’s “welcome” before she said something offensive to Darcy. From the time she had finally realized the perfect goodness of the man who loved her, Elizabeth had done all she could to shield him from the frequent vulgarity of her family.

“Lyddie.” Elizabeth approached her sister from behind. “There you are—.”

Before Elizabeth could finish her sentence, Lydia had her in her embrace. “Oh, Lizzy, it has been so long!”

And despite all those little private moments in which Elizabeth had dreaded welcoming the wife of Darcy’s worst enemy as a guest in their home, Elizabeth rejoiced. Her family, even her dearest sister, Jane, was in Hertfordshire, and she missed them desperately. Having Lydia before her increased Elizabeth’s loneliness, but it also appeased it at the same time.

“Lydia,” she said, her eyes welling with tears.They hugged for a long moment. When she released the girl, Elizabeth said, “Let me look at you. Oh, my, you are growing up.”

“Of course I am, Lizzy,” Lydia declared, dismissing her older sister’s sentimentality. “I am a married woman.”

Elizabeth caught Lydia’s arm. “Let us return to Pemberley. My husband worries for the roads. I fear that you came to us just as Winter offers her worst. Mr. Darcy speaks to Mr. Lawill. Come along.”

“But I cannot leave Mr.Worth and Mrs.Williams.” Lydia planted her feet and refused to budge. “I told them that Mr. Darcy would not allow them to sleep on the floor. Surely they can come to Pemberley with us.”

Elizabeth put more pressure on her sister’s arm, trying to maneuver the girl away from the man and woman seated nearby. “Lydia, you cannot simply invite people to Mr. Darcy’s home,” she hissed under her breath.

A little too loudly, Lydia announced, “Your husband, Lizzy, has always been …most disagreeable. He would leave my friends here. I am your sister, and he is so high and so conceited that he would—”

“Would what, Mrs. Wickham?” Darcy’s voice came from behind them.

Elizabeth whirled to see him standing there. Immediately, she tightly grasped Lydia’s arm, smiling politely all the while. “Apologize,” she quietly warned her sister while pasting a smile on her face. She realized the whole inn watched them.

“Oh, Mr. Darcy,” Lydia bubbled as if nothing had happened. “I am so pleased to see you again.” She wrenched her arm from Elizabeth’s grasp before dropping a quick curtsy.

Elizabeth walked casually to where Darcy stood and slipped her arm through his.“It seems, Fitzwilliam, that Lydia has made friends with her two traveling companions. I was just about to extend an invitation to Pemberley to Mr.Worth and Mrs.Williams, as we certainly could not have them sleeping on Mr. Lawill’s common room floor.” She smiled up at him, but her eyes told Darcy that she did not like the situation any better than he.

“Certainly, Elizabeth.” Darcy dramatically brought the back of her hand to his lips, demonstrating to all eyes their devotion. “Let us meet Mrs.Wickham’s new friends.”

Lydia liked the idea of having gotten her way with Mr. Darcy. It might, she mused, bode well for her convincing him to use his influence to help Wickham. Perhaps she could save her marriage to George Wickham.“Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth, may I present Mrs. Evelyn Williams, the widow of Admiral Samuel Williams. Mrs.Williams, this is my sister Elizabeth Darcy and her husband, Fitzwilliam Darcy.”

Mrs. Williams stood during the introduction. She immediately acknowledged the Darcys with a proper curtsy. Then she thanked them for their charity.

“It is our pleasure, Mrs.Williams,” Elizabeth said.

“And this is Mr. Nigel Worth,” Lydia pronounced.

“Mr.-Mr. Worth,” Darcy stammered, having recognized the man and wondered why he traveled with Wickham’s wife. “You are welcome as well, sir.”

“Your graciousness speaks well of you, Mr. Darcy.”Worth bowed to both the Darcys.

Darcy turned to Elizabeth. “It seems that I, too, have extended an invitation to Pemberley. An associate of my cousin Charles finds himself on his way to Cheshire.Viscount Stafford will inherit Greene Hall in Leicestershire. I have asked him and his cousin Miss Donnel to join us. They had been traveling to the bedside of an uncle, but now, like all these others, they must seek shelter from the storm. Mr. Lawill has no more accommodations.”

“Of course, Fitzwilliam.” Elizabeth recognized Darcy’s half-truths. His tone always told her when her husband asked her to read between the lines. “We shall have a merry household.”

“Let us retrieve everyone’s luggage, Elizabeth? We must return to our home.”

She released his arm. “I will ask Mr. Lawill’s man to help with the trunks. Might Mr.Worth ride with Viscount Stafford? It would make things more comfortable.”

“I will speak to His Lordship.” Darcy squeezed Elizabeth’s hand before walking away. His wife—his incomparable Elizabeth—a woman he had once thought beneath him—inferior in her connection—she understood him and protected him. Now, he too comprehended: From the first moment he had laid eyes on her at the Hertfordshire assembly hall, Fitzwilliam Darcy had thought of no one but her. She consumed him, and he loved her with a passion that surprised even him. Elizabeth would understand and would even find the mix of people about to inundate Pemberley as amusing as would he.

Within twenty minutes, the inn’s staff had loaded the trunks onto Darcy’s large coach, and both carriages had set out for Pemberley. For his own reasons, Darcy purposely had placed all the ladies, except the viscount’s mistress, in his coach. He would not subject Mrs. Williams—or even his wife’s sister, who had acted quite shamelessly with George Wickham—to Miss Donnel. He would tell Elizabeth of the lady’s true nature so that his wife could help him keep Georgiana apart from Cathleen Donnel.

The icy rain continued, but feathery flakes of snow also appeared. Darcy knew that Mr. Stalling was fighting the elements from his perch on the box.The ice pelted the carriage’s sides and roof, while the snow thickened, covering the layer of ice and making the road slick.The horses wanted to bolt—to escape the dampness—but Stalling held them in check, making the animals walk rather than giving them their heads. Each time Darcy looked, it seemed that the snow grew in its intensity—blinding his view. It came—part icy rain and part snow—covering the trees and the ground in a crusty frost.

“We will arrive soon,” he told them, although he knew that there were more than two miles to the house. At the moment, he wished that the drive from the gatehouse to the front circular drive were shorter.

“It seems that many of our guests travel to Cheshire, Fitzwilliam,” Elizabeth said out of nowhere. When she was nervous, silence drove her to distraction; Darcy realized that his wife’s fears had increased, so despite propriety, he slid his arm around her, resting it easily against the back of the seat, while the tips of his fingers touched her shoulder in a gentle caress.

“Unfortunately, my Dear, Lady Catherine says the storm followed her from Manchester. I suspect Cheshire is not the place to be at the moment.”