Page 62 of Pride, Prejudice & Wicked Pleasure

“Why? Because you have the ability to read minds? That must be a very convenient talent.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “An educated conjecture.”

“Or premise given upon limited information.”

She started. Where had she heard a similar remark? They had reached the gates of the pales opposite the Parsonage, and her impending departure from his company lifted her spirits.

“If it is combat you seek, Mr. Darcy,” she said merrily, “I fear I cannot oblige you at this time. Perhaps another day.”

With a smile and curtsy, she denied him the opportunity to open the gate for her by opening it herself. What a trying man, she thought, and promised herself to walk a different path on the morrow.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

As Darcy watched Miss Elizabeth disappear into the house, he pressed his lips into a line. Her perturbation had been apparent. This was not how he had intended their dialogue to proceed and further substantiated that the less he conversed with her, the better. He might not have been so plain-spoken had he not been confident that she could walk away unscathed, albeit vexed, by any remark from him, but she did not deserve his impertinence, no matter her faults.

For days he had vacillated between continuing her instruction and removing himself from the picture. The thought of another man touching her was unbearable. But he had to ask himself what course of action was objectively best. If he intended to distance himself from Miss Elizabeth—and he had practiced this aim to no avail every time he made a point to encounter her on her walks or paid her a visit at the Parsonage—a third lesson would set him back grievously, perhaps past the point of no return.

He had called upon Abby to inform her of his noble intent to give up his position as Miss Elizabeth’s instructor, but was informed that Mrs. Trenwith had taken herself into town for a few days to attend a friend in need. She was expected to return Saturday, the appointed day for Miss Elizabeth’s third lesson. He did not receive this news disfavourably, however, for Miss Elizabeth would only suffer a mild disappointment if she came to Trenwith House on Saturday to learn her instructor was indisposed. The delay would provide him the opportunity to speak in greater depth with Abby of his concerns regarding Miss Elizabeth.

Alas, when Saturday had come, Fate did not prove an obliging cohort. He arrived at Trenwith House to learn Abby’s return was to be delayed a day. Her presence was not required, as Pierre and Sally were seasoned servants and could ensure the lessons proceeded smoothly without the guidance of their mistress. Darcy determined that he would deliver a letter to Miss Elizabeth expressing his regrets and apologies for the inconvenience his unavailability would cause, but his plans were dashed upon learning that, while Abby was not returned from town, Mr. Nicholas had, and was presently entertaining Miss Elizabeth.

“They have been an hour upon the south portico,” Pierre answered when asked.

Disconcerted by the information, Darcy felt empty of recourse. While he could still have a letter delivered to Miss Elizabeth, he was loath to leave her with her present company, yet he could not intrude upon them without revealing himself. Perhaps, upon receiving the letter, she would see no reason to continue at Trenwith House and take her leave. But what if she did not? He needed to remove Miss Elizabeth from Mr. Nicholas.

“Have Sally inform Miss Bennet—discreetly, of course—that she can prepare for her lesson,” he instructed Pierre, “and notify me when Miss Bennet has retired to her chambers.”

By the time Pierre returned, Darcy had made up his mind that he would risk discovery by seeking out Nicholas. He wanted to ascertain what the young man knew of Miss Elizabeth’s presence at Trenwith House and his intentions toward the lady. As Darcy made for the terrace overlooking the garden, he wished Miss Elizabeth were not nearly so engaging nor so pretty. From George Wickham to Colonel Fitzwilliam and himself, she had amassed quite the bevy of admirers in the time he had known her.

Once upon the terrace outside, he was met with only a maidservant attending to the remains upon the table.

“Where is Mr. Trenwith?” he asked, noting the two used wine glasses she placed upon her tray.

“Beggin’ your pardon, sir, he left here but a few minutes ago,” she replied. “To where, I know not.”

Darcy eyed the open bottles upon her tray. One of them was unusually small for a wine bottle.

“Had he and the lady with him been drinking much?” he asked.

“They finished this one, to be certain. Or, rather, she seemed to drink from it more.” The maid held up the curious flask. “Mr. Nicholas had this one upon him. I have never seen its like in the cellar a’fore. He preferred the claret.”

Darcy took the dark amber-coloured bottle from her and sniffed it. He poured the last remaining drop onto his finger. Upon tasting the liquid, he turned pale. The brew had been greatly sweetened, but the distinctive flavours of the aphrodisiac could not be entirely masked. He did not favour the use of such tonics, but the Duchess had found them intriguing and had experimented with them extensively. The one that Miss Elizabeth had been imbibing was dubbed Nectar of Rati, one of the more potent agents. If she had consumed the majority of the bottle, and over the course of an hour, she would be in a precarious state at this time.

Biting back an oath, Darcy dispatched the maid to Miss Elizabeth’s chamber with the directive that the guest was not to leave the room under any circumstance, nor was anyone to enter. He quickly took himself back to his own chambers, where he found Pierre waiting. With Nicholas prowling about the premises, the first order of business was to remove Miss Elizabeth from his reach, but she would be in no condition to return home until the effect of the aphrodisiac had worn off.

“Have Sally install her in the Temple of Bastet,” Darcy said as he threw off his coat.

The Temple of Bastet was a small, enclosed pavilion tucked in the far end of the garden and hidden from view by a thicket of hazel trees. Few knew of its existence, and Nicholas had no affinity for walking about the garden. Miss Elizabeth could be safely ensconced there until the Nectar of Rati ran its course. Someone would have to keep Miss Elizabeth company during that time, and Darcy trusted no one but himself to ensure her safety.

“Shall I assist your wardrobe first?” Pierre asked.

“No!” Darcy answered. “After you have delivered the directions to Sally, find the whereabouts of Mr. Trenwith.”

Pierre, too proficient to ask questions, did as he was bid.

In his haste, Darcy opted simply to throw a banyan over his clothes and affix a mask over his eyes.

“I am told Mr. Trenwith was headed to the West Wing,” Pierre reported upon his return.