Page 130

His aunt sniffed, “How convenient!”

Edgar decided to deliver another blow. “And how is it that you met them Richard, but I have not? You have never mentioned them to me?”

“Unlike some, I have to work for my living, and I travel the length and breadth of England in service to the Crown. I meet any number of people that you never shall.” Richard smirked. “As for telling you, when have you ever taken time to talk to me, a lowly officer, about anything?”

Edward Fitzwilliam had reached the limits of his patience. He had approached this dinner with the hope that his oldest son had gotten past his anger towards his cousin, provoked anew by Jacqueline’s preference for Darcy. Long since accepting his part in the disastrous marriages of his son and daughter, he had tried to redeem himself by listening more and being less officious. Tonight, however, he could see himself in Edgar, and it was not a pleasant reflection.

As for Gladys Fitzwilliam, she seemed overly eager to skewer his nephew as well. He had no idea of what had caused the coldness between the two, but assumed it had to do with Florence. The fact that Edgar was apparently intent on helping her dress-down the boy made him furious. Finally, the Earl of Matlock spoke.

“Enough! Edgar, you and my sister have made quite a number of insinuations. I, myself, had occasion to meet George Darcy’s relations, the Lawrences, many years ago. I can only add that I am proud of Fitzwilliam for taking in someone with no family left in Sussex to see to her care.”

When Lord Matlock began his tall tale of the Lawrences, William, Evelyn, and Richard all turned to stare in astonishment. Never, in their wildest imaginations, would they have believed the earl would take up the story they had begun to protect William.

Seeing that she had angered the one person she feared most—Lord Matlock—Gladys rose to the occasion. “I apologise. I should not have voiced my reservations about this cousin, even if I believed the rumours to be true.”

Edward declared, “Rumours are just gossip, madam! And you need not apologise to me. Apologise to Fitzwilliam!”

At that, William’s aunt fixed him with an insincere smile. “I am sorry if my opinions brought you pain. Please forgive me.”

William stood, his chair scraping the floor. “I accept your apology, madam, though I wish you to know that your opinions mean nothing to me. Whatever I decide to do with my resources is my concern and no one else’s. And as to the future, I intend to please myself.”

With that, he excused himself with a bow, as did Richard.

~~~*~~~

Later that night as Evelyn Fitzwilliam prepared for bed, she could not wipe the smile from her face.

It was not the grandest or liveliest dinner party the Fitzwilliam’s had ever given, but to her it was one of the most satisfying. Tonight her family, save Edgar, had come together to protect the nephew she loved like a son. Her husband’s vile relation—a woman she disliked as much as Lady Catherine—had truly been put in her place, and her dearest husband had proven himself to be the man she had always known he could be—a man worthy of all her respect and love.

And as she stood to inspect her person, having left her hair loose as Edward preferred, she smiled at her reflection in the mirror. Tonight she would slip into Edward’s bedchamber. After all, he had winked at her when he left her to her preparations.

Darcy House

The Library

“So there you are!” Mr. Williamson strolled into the library—book in hand. “I heard a commotion and supposed it was you and the colonel returning from your dinner engagement, but I expected you would go directly to bed.”

William stood and gestured towards the brandy carafe. Williamson shook his head. “No, thank you. I was just returning this book on medieval remedies, hoping to find something equally as absorbing to read.”

“My cousin retired, and I was just thinking of doing the same.” William stifled a yawn. “By the way, I apologise again for leaving you alone tonight.”

“Think nothing of it. I have thoroughly enjoyed having time to myself. As much as I love being a minister, my little cottage is never free of parishioners needing one thing or another. When I am home, I can hardly finish a book.”

Sitting down, William sighed heavily, gaining the vicar’s full attention. Williamson now noticed the decidedly strained look on his host’s face. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

William chuckled. “Can you do away with some of my relatives?”

Williamson guffawed. “If I could do that, I would be in greater demand for funerals and would be richer than you, I imagine.”

At that, William laughed and the vicar studied him. “I take it that something unsettling occurred at the dinner party.”

“You might say that.” Blowing out a deep breath, William began to relate all that had occurred at Matlock House. Afterwards, they sat in companionable silence for a time.

Finally, the vicar ventured, “I can certainly understand the reason for your question about doing away with your relatives.”

William grinned tiredly, rubbing his forehead. “Yes, but my uncle certainly redeemed himself, at least in my opinion. He has always drummed duty, family and responsibility into me and into his own family as well. It was a shock to see him stand up for me like that—most especially since he and I have not been close in years.”

“I should imagine from what you have told me of Lady Matlock that she has been a great influence on his change of heart. And you, of all people, can understand the influence a worthy woman can have on a man who just needs to set his priorities in order.”