Page 57 of Master of Himself

“You are far too generous and should be taking me to task for endangering the hired horses.”

“Oh no, sir,” Lockhart said in a conciliating tone. “I would never presume to advise you, and we came about safely, so you need not tease yourself about it.”

“Sleep well, my good man. I won’t need you in the morning.”

After locating the young groom, he offered his thanks and a coin for his efforts.

Upon entering the mudroom, dripping wet and leaving muddy footprints on the floor, he found Henderson awaiting him. “Mr Darcy and Mr Hurst have retired to their chambers,” he said, with an uncommon gravity.

“Well, Mr Henderson, I’ll make no excuses. I have been foolish beyond permission,” he said, knowing this night’s folly would cause the valet additional work.

“I would never scruple to say so, nor will I disagree,” Henderson said, handing Darcy a towel. “Have you lost your hat again?”

“No, it’s in the chaise,” he said, drying his face and hair.

Henderson released a sigh of relief. “I’ll retrieve it in the morning. Let me take your coat and boots, and you will presently be more comfortable.”

Darcy unbuttoned the greatcoat, then sat on the bench to relinquish his muddy boots. “What would your mama say if you had done this, Henderson? Would she scold?” he inquired, hoping to lighten the mood.

“You may be certain she would, sir, and never let me forget what a caper-witted fool I was, as I’m sure your own mama would do.”

He nodded, fondly recalling Lady Anne’s severe rebuke when he and Richard had tracked horse manure into the breakfast parlour.

In Veritate Victoria. Generations of Fitzwilliams had endured every controversy, risen above every hardship, and answered every challenge. Fitzwilliam Darcy, however, had neither truth nor victory. Now living a lie, he had failed all his forebearers.

Chapter 19

Tuesday 26 November

“Wake up, Charles.”

Charles groaned at the sight of Henry Hurst hovering over him. “No, no, let me sleep.”

“Louisa and Caroline are packing their trunks.”

Now fully awake, Charles sprang upright, invoking an excruciating reminder of last night’s exploits in every part of his body.

“They refuse to remain one more day.”

Charles held his head in his hands. “Can’t you dissuade them or refuse to escort them?”

Grumbling, Henry threw open the drapes, illuminating the chamber with painful sunlight. “I’ve already tried that. I have no control over Caroline, and Louisa follows wherever her sister leads,” he said, then held out the green banyan. “We have to wake Darcy up. Hopefully, he can talk them out of it.”

Although weary, Charles accepted his brother-in-law’s assistance and stumbled out to the hall where he observed several servants scurrying up and down the stairs.

The door to the master’s chamber opened, and Darcy stuck his head out. “What’s going on? Is there a fire?”

“Caroline and Louisa insist on returning to town,” Charles said in a grave tone, hoping to convince his friend of the urgency of the matter.

“Fine, let them go,” Darcy said irritably. “They’re a nuisance. I don’t know how you endure them.”

“You must convince them to stay,” Charles said in an urgent tone.

Darcy drew his brows together. “To what purpose?”

Caroline emerged from her chamber. “There you are, Charles. I was just going to send Mr Henderson to wake you. Louisa and I are going home. You may enjoy rusticating in the country, but I assure you, I do not.”

“Meryton is a far sight better than Blackburn, I daresay,” Darcy said, in a scathing tone.