Page 49 of Undone

Derbyshire

25th November, 1811

Darcy

A fortnight had passed since Darcy returned to Derbyshire, and he found little comfort in being home. Leaving Elizabeth without a word had wounded him more deeply than he had imagined possible. He could not help wondering what she thought of his abrupt departure. To Bingley, he had offered no explanation beyond the pressing business that required his immediate attention at Pemberley, nor had he ventured to say when he expected to return.

He knew Elizabeth would have gone to Oakham Mount. She would have waited for him, wondering why he had failed to appear. The thought had haunted him from the moment he left Hertfordshire, but he had seen no other course. Remaining had placed her in danger, or so he believed.

His duties at Pemberley occupied only a small part of each day. There was still much to be done following the losses sustained by the estate, and the tenants who remained required his attention. Yet once those obligations were discharged, his mind invariably returned to the same question.

Who was working against him?

Wickham or Lady Catherine.

It could easily be any of the two. Wickham possessed every motive to seek revenge. Yet his aunt could not be dismissed.Her rector’s behaviour in Hertfordshire, particularly towards Elizabeth, had been too deliberate to ignore.

Could Wickham be acting for Lady Catherine herself?

He considered the thought too severally.

He recalled the few occasions on which his aunt had encountered Wickham during her visits to Pemberley. She had considered him cunning, though hopelessly indulged by his father. She certainly possessed both the means and the influence to purchase a man's loyalty if it served her purpose.

If she had sent both Collins and Wickham to Hertfordshire, then she had deployed every weapon at her disposal.

He possessed no proof, only suspicion. Yet each coincidence seemed to build upon the last until they all pointed towards a single person. Was it possible his aunt believed that, once sufficiently brought low, he would at last consent to a marriage he had rejected all his life?

The notion would once have appeared absurd. Now he was no longer certain.

Although she had not seriously pressed him to marry Anne until the proper period of mourning for his father had elapsed, she had spoken of such a union for years. Even when they were little more than youths, she would laughingly refer to Anne as his future wife. Darcy had always answered with equal good humour that it would never happen.

If he considered all that had transpired in Hertfordshire, together with the possibility that Lady Catherine had long entertained such a design, it fitted the unhappy succession of misfortunes that had plagued him only too well.

Still, suspicion was not evidence.

Beyond Colonel Fitzwilliam's brief reply acknowledging the letter Darcy had dispatched on the morning he left Hertfordshire, he had nothing. In that letter he had laid beforehis cousin every circumstance that had awakened his suspicions and requested that discreet men be employed to observe both Collins and Wickham before the latter, in particular, found reason to disappear. He had no desire to repeat the mistake he had made after Wickham's attempted elopement with Georgiana, when every effort to locate him had proved fruitless.

He could do nothing now but wait.

Seven days after his return to Derbyshire, a letter arrived at Pemberley bearing the seal of Ashcombe Hall, the estate of Mr. and Mrs. Kingsley, situated near the village of Hathersage.

The Kingsleys had been no more than distant connexions of his parents. During the first years after assuming responsibility for Pemberley, Darcy had received invitations to Ashcombe Hall with some regularity, though they had gradually ceased as the rumours surrounding his affairs spread throughout Derbyshire. He could not recall receiving one in the last two years.

His first inclination was to decline. Society held little appeal whilst his thoughts remained fixed upon Hertfordshire, and the prospect of spending an evening amongst near strangers was far from inviting. Upon reflection, however, he reasoned that refusing yet another invitation would only further damage his already declining reputation. Moreover, perhaps a few hours away from Pemberley would provide a welcome distraction from thoughts that had become increasingly oppressive.

With that consideration in mind, he accepted the invitation.

The journey to Ashcombe Hall occupied little more than two hours. Upon his arrival, a servant relieved him of his greatcoat before another announced his name. The drawing room was already well attended, conversation flowing easily amongst clusters of ladies and gentlemen.

He was soon welcomed by the host. The gentleman, now in his sixties, greeted him with a warm smile.

"Mr. Kingsley." Darcy inclined his head before accepting the offered hand. "It is a pleasure to see you again."

"You have arrived just in time," Mr. Kingsley declared. "I had begun to fear Pemberley would keep you from us."

"I would not willingly disappoint so kind an invitation."

"I am delighted to hear it." Mr. Kingsley laughed softly as he gestured for Darcy to accompany him into the principal drawing room. "We have gathered a pleasant company this evening. Many old friends, a few new acquaintances, and enough music to satisfy my wife."