Simon Bingley's Resolve, page 5
‘You disappoint me, Miss Dayton. I am trying very hard to rid myself of my reputation for being too compliant, and yet you have seen through me at the first hurdle.’
‘For which I apologise, even if I fail to see why you would want to hide such tendencies.’ She glanced at her sister’s increasingly frantic efforts to be the centre of attention and shuddered. ‘Although there again, perhaps I do. But still, we cannot change our characters.’
‘You don’t share the opinion that character alters with maturity?’
‘We become more discerning, certainly. Matters that seem vital to a twelve-year-old become inconsequential to adults.’
‘Precisely my point.’ He sent her an engaging smile. ‘But how we came to pontificate upon the meaning of life on such a lovely day as this is beyond me. My aunt would be appalled if she knew we were talking about anything more taxing than the appalling behaviour of my young nephews and nieces.’ He stooped to pick up Emma’s eldest son, who had just charged into the room and tripped over his own feet. ‘Careful!’
‘I’m hiding from Jared,’ the boy said in a theatrical whisper, scampering off on tiny legs.
‘Not very efficiently, it seems,’ Simon said, laughing as he watched him go.
‘Pemberley must provide a treasure trove of hiding places for small boys with energy to spare.’
‘Too many. I recall our poor nursemaids being at their collective wits’ end when my cousins and I got together and took it upon ourselves to hide from them.’
‘I can well imagine. The place holds many happy memories for you. That much is obvious to me.’
‘It can’t be the same for you, I suppose, not having grown up in England. Do you feel rootless?’
‘What a very strange question. It’s one that I haven’t stopped to consider before.’ She tilted her head as she then did so. ‘I suppose I have always been a bit of a nomad. I enjoy seeing new places and observing the way people live. But now that I am back in England, I suppose…well, things will be different.’
Simon sensed that she’d been on the verge of confiding in him, telling him what preoccupied her, but she held back, and good manners prevented him from prompting her.
‘Your father will have a great deal to discuss with my uncle Gardiner,’ he said, nodding towards a distinguished gentleman sitting in a comfortable chair in front of the open terrace doors and smiling at the children’s escapades as their laughter rang out across the lawns. ‘He has several warehouses and imports a number of commodities from the Indies.’ He smiled at her. ‘You looked shocked, but be assured,’ he said, dropping his voice to a theatrical level, ‘that we don’t shy away from discussing trade in this household.’
‘How appalling! Had I known, I should have found a way to decline my part of the invitation.’
They both laughed, and Simon sensed some of the tension drain from her shoulders. He sought for something else to say to keep her with him, aware that he had already hogged her company for longer than was acceptable. The fact of the matter was that he simply didn’t care. He was enjoying himself.
The sound of an arrival had all heads turning in the direction of the entrance vestibule.
‘Who can that be?’ he heard his aunt Lizzy speculate. ‘We are not expecting anyone else today.’
Before her curiosity could be satisfied, Simon heard a swish of skirts and sensed a presence looming in the open doorway. Conversations faded and he heard his father utter an oath not fit for mixed company; a circumstance that was in itself so unusual that it caused Simon grave concern. He glanced up at the new arrival, who looked familiar, although he couldn’t think of her name.
‘Caroline,’ his father said in a shocked voice. ‘What the devil are you doing here?’
Chapter Four
By the time Samuel’s coach reached Derby, he had learned more about Pemberley and its gracious family that he was comfortable knowing, courtesy of his loquacious travelling companion. He wished now that he had not taken him up. Farlow was not the type to use one word when twenty would suffice, and his nasal twang had begun to try Samuel’s patience. He had overreacted, he could quite see that now. Nadia would not defy her father’s wishes and he would not use Farlow to spy on her. It went against the grain to display any weaknesses or doubts to a man of Farlow’s lowly standing. Nadia would do as she was damned well told and become Samuel’s wife and if any of the young blighters in attendance at Pemberley showed her too much attention, her father would soon nip the attraction in the bud.
Disgruntled by the turn his thoughts had taken, Samuel tried to convince himself that he had no further cause for concern. And yet his doubts endured, further souring his mood.
‘We are approaching Derby now,’ Farlow said, peering through the window. ‘You can let me out anywhere, sir. I have already put you to enough trouble and I cannot thank you enough for your kindness.’
‘Your family’s home is nearby?’
‘Quite close, but the Dog and Duck over yonder is the local meeting place. You are guaranteed a decent pint of ale in that establishment.’
‘Then let us whet our whistles, by all means.’
Samuel tapped on the roof with the handle of his cane and instructed his coachman to pull into the mews. He had tolerated Farlow’s company all these hours on the road and although he had decided against utilising his services, it would be as well to know where to find him if he were to change his plans. Farlow, he knew, wouldn’t be too particular about how he earned the odd guinea or two.
The men alighted from the conveyance and made their way into the taproom. It was only half full and they were served with alacrity. Samuel held back to see if Farlow would put his hand in his pocket. To his credit, he didn’t hesitate. Farlow acknowledged one or two acquaintances as the two men took their tankards to a table close to the open door, hoping to benefit from any breeze that could be had on such a warm day.
‘Do you intend to remain in Derby, sir, or are you travelling further?’
‘I have business in the area.’ Samuel took a sip of his ale. ‘In fact, I might decide to settle in the district if I find a property that suits my requirements.’ One grand enough to raise his social standing now that he was back in England, he thought but did not add. It was beyond time he was looked up to and admired for the man of vision he had become. No one in this part of the country was aware that he had once married a kitchen maid. ‘Is Pemberley far from here?’
‘About ten miles, but it is not for sale,’ Farlow replied, laughing at his own wit. ‘Lambton is the closest village, but you will often find men employed at Pemberley here in Derby on estate business. The man I acknowledged just a moment ago is a keeper on the estate.’ Farlow savoured his own ale. ‘What is your interest in the place?’
‘Friends of mine are there for a house party, but I already told you that.’ Samuel wished he had not been so forthcoming. It made him seem desperate. ‘I wondered if I would have the pleasure of seeing them while I am here.’
‘The annual house party at Pemberley is quite the tradition. It was established by Mrs Darcy on her first year here as a bride. I believe this year will be the twenty-fifth. It’s fairly informal. If you feel a need to call at the house and see your friends, I expect you will be made welcome.’
‘I might well do so.’ Samuel drained his tankard and stood.
‘Leaving so soon, sir? I have not had an opportunity to express my appreciation. I am sure my family would be pleased to make your acquaintance.’
‘No time for that. I shall put up in a tavern at Lambton and conduct my business from there.’
‘If I can help in any way.’ Farlow stood and offered Samuel his hand. ‘Send word here and I will come at once. They know where to find me.’
Samuel left the tavern and climbed back into his carriage, already having dismissed Farlow from his mind. He arrived at the Lamb, secured its best room and settled down to attend to the business that had really taken him away from London.
*
Simon watched in stupefaction as his father’s expression darkened and his brows drew together across a forehead knotted with anger. Normally the mildest-mannered of men, he looked at the new arrival with an unmitigated fury he made no effort to disguise. Simon instinctively moved to stand at the pater’s shoulder, watching the woman whom he assumed must be his aunt Caroline―the black sheep about whom he and Spence frequently speculated—wondering about the nature of sins so grievous that all connections with her had been severed. He saw a tall, middle-aged and not unattractive lady who appeared to take considerable care of her appearance. There was a fragility about her, a brittleness and a vacant expression in her eyes that belied her confident bearing.
Simon sensed his mother’s distress at the lady’s arrival, increasing his curiosity about her misdeeds. Glancing at his aunt Lizzy, he could see that she too was extremely discomposed, as was his uncle. Whatever his aunt had done to make herself unacceptable at Pemberley, the passage of time had clearly not diminished the impact of her misdeeds.
‘You must be my nephew, Simon,’ the lady said, smiling and extending her hand. Simon instinctively bowed and reached forward to take it, inbred good manners overcoming reserve. But before he could take her hand in his, she lifted her fingers to his cheek and pinched it with considerable force, obliging Simon to withhold a yelp as he rapidly moved out of her range. ‘Indeed, you look so like your father when he was your age,’ she added, blithely unaware of the mayhem she was causing, ‘that I couldn’t possibly mistake you for anyone else. I can see that you don’t recognise me. I am your aunt Caroline.’
‘Ma’am,’ Simon said diffidently.
‘Mr Darcy.’ The lady swept past Simon and his father, her hand outstretched. ‘It has been too long.’
‘What are you doing here, Caroline?’ Simon’s father asked, intercepting his sister before she could reach Darcy.
‘I have come to visit, although I could wish for a more fulsome welcome.’ She glanced around the room, not appearing to see the faces that peered at her with varying degrees of interest and dismay. ‘Goodness, the place has barely changed over the years.’
Everyone continued to stare at Simon’s aunt, and it would have been possible to hear a pin drop.
‘Is Rochdale with you?’ Simon’s father asked.
Rochdale was his aunt’s husband, Simon knew that much at least. He was a doctor of some sort. He visited Simon’s parents occasionally when his business affairs took him away from London, but those visits had only ever taken place when Simon was away at school. He had heard about them from his sisters, but they knew frustratingly little about the man himself and even less about the prodigal aunt. To say that Simon’s curiosity was piqued would have been a gross understatement.
‘Albert is engaged on business somewhere or other and I was at a loose end, so I came to Derbyshire on a whim, to be with my dear family.’
‘Where is Louisa?’
Simon wondered the same thing. Louisa was his father’s other sister, and one of the few things that Simon did know about his aunt Caroline was that whenever her husband was away from home Aunt Louisa, who lived permanently in London, took responsibility for Caroline. Why a grown woman should require a permanent nursemaid was less clear.
‘Come with me.’
Simon’s father took his sister’s arm and all but frogmarched her from the room. Simon felt compelled to follow, no longer willing to be sidelined. This was family business, and Simon was a full-grown man who deserved to know the truth. His father had clearly reached the same conclusion, since he made no objection to Simon’s presence.
They entered the morning room and Simon closed the door behind them, assuring them a degree of privacy.
‘Really, Charles, what is wrong with you?’ Simon’s aunt took a chair, her expression affronted, a hard edge to her voice. ‘It’s a sorry state of affairs if I cannot visit my own brother. I am not acquainted with your children, and it’s beyond time that I rectified that situation. Besides, London is too hot at this time of year and there is no one left in town worth knowing. Louisa has gone to the country somewhere and I found myself quite alone, which got me to thinking…’
‘You cannot seriously have expected a warm welcome from the Darcys?’ The pater’s expression was both incredulous and implacable. Simon had seldom seen him so angry, which only served to increase his curiosity about the unwelcome aunt.
‘Would you like me to leave you?’ he asked.
‘No, Simon, stay.’ The older man let out a long breath. ‘It’s time that you knew the truth about your aunt.’
But he paused for so long that Simon began to think that he’d had a change of heart. He glanced at the aunt in question, who fiddled with the handle of the reticule she held in her lap and looked unconcerned.
‘So much fuss about ancient history,’ she said, tutting.
‘When I decided to lease Netherfield Park in Hertfordshire,’ Father said, ‘Darcy and my sisters joined me there. Caroline kept house for me but had designs upon Darcy.’
‘And he upon me,’ she replied breezily. ‘Matters were all but agreed between us before she…’
‘Nothing had been agreed,’ Father said in a firm tone. ‘Darcy would have spoken to me if his thoughts had turned in that direction, but he never said anything. Not a word. Any attachment was all in your head, Caroline.’ Father returned his attention to Simon. ‘I met and married your mother and Darcy and your aunt were married at the same time.’ He paused. ‘You have heard about Wickham, your aunt Lydia’s first husband?’
‘Of course.’
‘He was bad to the bone and encouraged Caroline into a desperate plot. Suffice it to say that between them they enticed your aunt Lizzy into a compromising position here at Pemberley with Wickham. It was supposed to destroy their marriage so that Caroline could take Lizzy’s place.’
Simon gasped.
‘Nonsense,’ Caroline said breezily. ‘It was all a silly misunderstanding. Mrs Darcy is not the only person who was manipulated by Wickham. I was his victim too, and I have been shunned by my family ever since. But whatever sickness gripped me and allowed me to be drawn in by Wickham’s machinations is long gone, and I am quite well again.’
Simon’s father shook his head, looking weary and resigned. ‘Where actually is Rochdale?’ he asked. ‘You must have some idea.’
‘Somewhere or other.’ She flapped a hand, dismissing the question. ‘How should I know? He is always off and about, chasing down the latest medical development. I can’t keep track. But he did mention something about coming to Derbyshire, which is what gave me the idea of coming here myself.’
‘You can’t expect Mrs Darcy to accommodate you, Caroline, not after what you did.’
‘It was a long time ago, Charles, and I was temporarily unwell.’ She glanced at her folded hands, looking vulnerable and a little afraid. ‘The disappointment of unfulfilled expectations temporarily deprived me of my wits and made me behave in a way that was quite out of character. Albert has treated me and I am completely recovered now.’
‘That’s as maybe, but…’
‘The Darcys have five children and several grandchildren. I doubt they still bear me any animosity and I’m sure they would not deprive me of the pleasure of my own family’s company. It is beyond time that I got to know them. Surely you cannot withhold that simple pleasure from me. You have so much, whereas I…’
She spread her hands and allowed her words to trail off. Simon wasn’t sure what to make of her, nor could he gauge how sincere she was actually being, since he didn’t know her well enough to judge. She seemed dignified, reasonably articulate, and apart from her slightly vacant gaze, entirely plausible. But he had come to realise that manipulative people were versed in hiding their true natures. He glanced at his father, not envying him the problems he was now obliged to wrestle with. He knew that the bond of friendship between his father and Darcy was firmly entrenched, but he imagined that it must have been brought to breaking point by the machinations of this desperate and vindictive-sounding female.
Simon wished there was some sort of advice he could offer his father, but his mind remained stubbornly blank. This unpleasantness had happened before he’d even been born and he had no right to interfere, especially since he had absolutely no idea how strong feelings were still running. He found it hard to imagine anyone behaving so dishonourably, and could quite understand why his father found it difficult to forgive a sister whom he had once held in affection.
‘Stay here,’ his father said curtly.
Simon left the room in his father’s wake, worried about the continued anger radiating from his tense bearing as he asked a footman to remain outside the door and not allow Caroline to leave the confines of the morning room. From what he had seen of his aunt’s bold character, Simon wouldn’t put it past her to return to the drawing room and wander about, introducing herself as though nothing untoward had occurred all those years ago.
Simon was unsurprised to find his mother, aunt and uncle waiting in an adjoining room. Who was comforting whom was less easy to determine, but Simon could see that his mother was extremely overset. She and Aunt Lizzy were holding hands. They broke off their conversation and looked up expectantly at Simon’s father, who recounted his aunt’s extraordinary explanation.
‘I’m so very sorry,’ he said, running a hand distractedly through his hair. It had started to thin, Simon noticed absently, wondering why such a nugatory observation should lodge in his brain at such a vital time. ‘I cannot conceive what Rochdale could have been thinking, leaving her alone in London if Louisa is away. He knows how fragile she still is and how much she dislikes her own company.’ He turned to look at Aunt Lizzy. ‘I cannot find the words to apologise for the memories her arrival must have dredged up.’
‘Think nothing of it,’ his aunt replied. ‘It was a long time ago.’
‘At least she acknowledges that she was ill,’ his mother said. ‘But that is not enough. If she is now well again and perfectly sane, one cannot help but question her effrontery in coming here so boldly, especially at such a time. One assumes she knew it was the week of your house party, Lizzy.’
