Beginning, Previous Section, Section III, Next Section
Part 27 Christopher and Georgiana arrived the next afternoon. Jesse saw the carriage pull up through an upstairs window.
"More guests," he said when Kitty passed him. "How many people does Fitz require to help his wife give birth?"
Kitty stood beside him, and looked out.
"Oh, it is Georgiana! I hope she brought Matthew!" Kitty ran down the stairs and out the door.
"Who is Georgiana?" he asked, following her. Darcy poked his head out of his study.
"Is Georgiana here?" he asked.
"That is who Kitty .. I mean, Miss Bennet .. said it was," said Jesse. "Who is Georgiana?"
"My .. our sister," said Darcy. "I thought she should meet you."
"Did you tell her about me?"
"No, I merely said there was an urgent matter here, and she and her husband should get themselves here immediately."
"Husband? Would I approve of the chap?"
"We shall see," Darcy smiled enigmatically. He could not wait to see Jesse's reaction. Or Christopher's, for that matter.
As soon as Christopher alighted from the carriage, Jesse hid behind his older brother. Christopher did not see him, for he was helping Georgiana out. Kitty rushed to them and begged to hold the baby. Elizabeth and Julia were still upstairs, as Elizabeth was definitely not feeling up to walking down the stairs.
Darcy pulled Christopher to his study so they could talk. Jesse kept well out of Christopher's line of vision.
"Careful," said Georgiana as Kitty took Matthew from her. "Hold his head up; he cannot do it himself. There. He likes you," she said. Kitty grinned happily.
"Well, Fitzwilliam," said Georgiana to Jesse, "what was so urgent that I had to drop everything and come?"
Jesse collected himself and smiled down at the young woman. He was relieved that she did not recognize him. Perhaps he had time to readjust the opinion she must have of him.
"I think I will tell you once we are inside."
"Elizabeth is not in any danger, is she?"
"Oh, no, I don't think so. Georgiana, allow me to say you are looking well."
"Thank you," she said, puzzled. "So are you. I think Elizabeth has had a wonderful effect on you. You even look younger."
He laughed.
"I am not any younger, alas. Georgiana," he said when they were in the drawing room. He looked nervously toward the door, not knowing what to expect from her husband. "Your husband... has he ever shown any violence towards you?"
"Not towards me, no."
"In your presence?"
"I once saw him hit a man, but I left before I saw anymore of the fight. Why are you asking me about Christopher?" she suddenly looked worried. "Has he done anything?"
"Not that I know of," he said. "I am more worried about what he will do."
"Why is that?" asked Kitty, coming up behind them. Georgiana saw she was no longer holding the baby.
"Where is Matthew?" she asked, standing up.
"He is playing over there," Kitty pointed. "Lizzy lets Alex play there all the time, and Alex is far more capable of getting into things than Matthew is, at least at this age. It is perfectly safe."
Georgiana relaxed and sat down.
"Why are you worried about Christopher?" she asked again.
"I have a confession to make," he said slowly, playing with a ring on his finger.
"You had him followed, didn't you?" she asked. He stared at her.
"What? No! Why should I have him followed? No, it has nothing to do with your husband. At least, very little."
"What are you saying?" she asked. He looked to Kitty for help.
"What he's trying to say, Mrs. Blakeney, is that he is not your brother. I mean, he is, but he is not your eldest brother."
""What?" Georgiana stared at them as if they had gone mad.
"I am James Robert Darcy, your second brother."
"This is a very bad joke, Fitzwilliam," she said, sipping her tea.
"I can't imagine Fitz going this far for a joke, can you? Even you said I looked younger. To be exact, six years younger."
Georgiana was convinced.
"You call him Fitz?" she hooted. "Oh, he must not like you!" He smiled tentatively.
"No, I'm afraid he doesn't. He thinks I'm a fraud."
"With that face?" she said. "I don't think so."
He grinned. He liked his new sister. At that thought, he wondered how Mary was faring, and his smile diminished somewhat.
"So ... James," she said, smiling. "What was your name before you discovered you were a Darcy?"
He looked at Kitty, who nodded firmly.
"Jesse Matthews."
Georgiana blinked. Jesse and Kitty held their breath. Kitty wondered if she would finally see Georgiana lose her temper. She had seen her faint once, but somehow did not think she would this time.
"So," she said quite calmly. "You knew Christopher while he was Matt Morgan?"
Jesse was confused. Wasn't she going to scream, or go into hysterics, or faint?
"Y-yes, I did," he stammered. "Not very well, b-but we met a couple times." He cleared his throat. "I would rather not talk about it. We were not exactly the best of friends."
"No?" she looked somewhat relieved. "Are you sure?"
"I know who my friends are, Georgiana, and he was not one of them. He was not an enemy, either, but certainly not a friend."
She seemed to accept that.
"Would you like to talk about your other family?" she asked, changing the subject.
Part 28 Posted on Thursday, 23 December 1999
Meanwhile, Darcy had carried Christopher away to his study before that young man even realized Jesse Matthews was on this block, let alone in this house. He looked suspiciously at Darcy as that man took his seat behind his desk.
"Have a seat, Blakeney," said Darcy. Christopher shook his head slowly.
"No, I'll stand. What is the matter?"
"I need to talk to Matthew Morgan," said Darcy. He felt it wise to keep himself taller than this young man, so he rose from his seat and headed to a cabinet on the other side of the room. "Would you like a drink?"
"No, thank you. Drinking brings up bad memories."
"Oh," said Darcy, blinking in confusion. Christopher walked to the shelves on one side of the room and knelt down to inspect the contents. Darcy closed the cabinet door, and watched his brother-in-law's search. "What are you looking for?"
"Nothing. I am waiting for the first question."
"Question?"
"You said you needed to talk to Matthew Morgan. I assume you wanted to ask about my past. That is what Georgiana has taken an interest in lately, too. Perhaps it is a family trait, curiosity. Nosiness."
Darcy stared at him.
"You thought I brought you here to interrogate you?" he asked.
"Didn't you?"
"No."
Christopher took a moment to look relieved, then puzzled.
"Then why do you need my alter ego?"
Darcy laughed.
"You are a paranoid boy! Good grief! What good would it do me to know all about you?"
Christopher scowled and folded his arms across his chest defensively.
"Well, I am sorry if your sister's interrogations have me a little wary these days."
Darcy stopped laughing.
"Why should you be wary?"
"You need a detective." Christopher changed the subject. "Why?"
Darcy sat down, leaned back in his chair, and put his hands behind his head before saying,
"Jesse Matthews."
Christopher flinched, nodded, and sat on the window sill.
"I thought you might. What about him? His relationship to you, his relationship to me...."
"The former, of course, although the latter would interest me greatly. He is, in essence, blackmailing me into letting him stay here, as a member of the family..."
Christopher had been examining the lint on his pants and wondering how it got there, when Darcy spoke this last. His head shot up and he said,
"You mean he is here?"
Darcy nodded in the affirmative.
"Good God, Darcy, can you not take better care of your sister!" He started for the door and found it locked. "What is the meaning of this?" he demanded.
"I am sorry for that, but I did not want you bolting before I had completed my business with you. I am not hiring Christopher Blakeney, my sister's husband. I am hiring Matthew Morgan, private detective."
Christopher rolled his eyes.
"Well, then, you won't begrudge me that drink now, will you?" He went to the cabinet and helped himself. "I suppose the word 'hiring' means I will be paid."
"Yes," said Darcy distastefully. Christopher nodded. "Whatever price you ask."
"Very well, then." Christopher grinned. "I want the child that is to be born to be named after me."
Darcy's lips twitched upward.
"Even if it is a girl?" he asked.
"Christina would do nicely. Yes, that is what I want. Christopher or Christina Darcy. It sounds nice. And a girl will be Christina Georgiana," he added.
"Very well. That will be your payment."
"He is your brother."
"How do you know?"
Christopher finished his drink, and helped himself to another.
"After the ball, I had my suspicions, so I started looking into things. Georgiana told me your family doctor is Bartholomew Jones, so I asked him about it. He told me that his assistant for years was, indeed, Mrs. Margaret Matthews. I have met the woman, Darcy, even before this whole incident, and I know for a fact that she hates him with a vengeance. Perhaps he reminds her of her crime, I don't know. In any case, she eventually had her own children, and abandoned him for them, though he continued to live with the family."
"This does not prove he is my brother."
"Well, I cannot detail the entire investigation to you. I did not come prepared. But I assure you, that is the only conclusion to be drawn. Are you certain Georgiana is safe?"
"Yes, quite. Jesse truly believes he is my brother, which means he will think of Georgiana as his sister. I do not think he would harm his sister."
"Very true. He was always kind to Miss Matthews."
"He had a sister?"
"Yes. Mary. They are very close."
"How did you meet him?"
Christopher laughed.
"I think I will let him tell that story."
"Are you drunk?"
"Not yet, though I plan to be."
"I thought drinking brought bad memories."
"It does. But if I am to not harm him, I need to be a little past caring, don't you think? This is very good," he complimented.
"I always thought drinking led to violence, not away from it."
"Perhaps it does, for most people."
"Are you past caring yet?" asked Darcy impatiently, some minutes later.
"About what?"
"About Jesse."
Christopher's face darkened.
"Apparently not," said Darcy dryly. "Would you mind answering a question of mine?"
"Ask away. But I might as well warn you, I asked Sam once what kind of things I said when I was drunk, and he said I never made any sense." He grinned mischievously.
"Who is Sam?"
"He was my partner in London. Well, he was after the Katie incident. Then Will found out he was the father, and threw him out, too, so I found a place for him to stay, and he never left me alone after that."
Darcy stared at him, trying to make sense of what he had said.
"Who is Katie?"
"Katie." Christopher smiled. "She tried. God, did she try!"
"What did she try?"
"And of course, Will believed her," said Christopher darkly. "Well, he found out the truth, as soon as the baby was born."
"What are you talking about?" Darcy was becoming worried.
"Then, after Sam finally married her, he went and got himself killed. Stupid."
"I think it is time we joined the others," said Darcy, standing.
"Is Georgiana all right?" asked Christopher when Darcy pulled him up.
"She is fine. Let's go see her, shall we?"
Christopher laughed.
"I haven't been this drunk since the night after you found out about me and Georgiana in London." Darcy fidgeted. "What were you going to ask me before, Darcy? That one question you had, what was it?"
"I was wondering if you had ever killed a man," said Darcy rather shamefacedly.
"Zounds! Why on earth would you ask me that? Has Jesse been telling you stories?"
"No; are there any stories to tell?"
"Did you know, Darcy, that you said this would not be an interrogation?"
"I thought you were drunk," said Darcy.
"So you thought my tongue would start wagging without paying any heed to what I was saying?"
"That is not what I meant."
"Yes, it is. Well, I'll have you know I do not completely lose my senses after ... well, I'm sure you know how much I had to drink. Only once have I gone that far with any type of alcohol, and as much as I regretted that incident, I am beginning to regret this one far more."
"More bad memories?" said Darcy with a raised eyebrow.
"What will you do about Jesse?"
"What can I do?" Darcy shrugged. "But you did not answer my question. Have you ever killed a man?"
"Yes."
"You have?" Darcy was genuinely surprised. Christopher nodded. "I'm sure it was in self-defense."
"No," said Christopher with a smile.
"Oh. Who was he? Why did you kill him?"
"I would love to stay here and reminisce with you, Darcy, but there is a villain in the parlor with my wife, and I would like to be certain she is all right before you confront me yet again."
"I think we should stay here until you are sober," said Darcy cautiously.
"That will take a while," Christopher commented.
"Can you tell me anything encouraging about your past?" asked Darcy. "I'd like to be able to have some faith in your integrity."
"Do you know what would be encouraging to me? To go into that room where Georgiana is talking with Jesse Matthews, and find she either does not know who he is, or that she has not gone into hysterics on discovering it."
Darcy looked him up and down, and came to the conclusion that nothing would be benefited by Georgiana seeing him in this state. He looked hard at the young man, thinking about his confession. Christopher inspected the door for a few moments, then stood back from it.
"I will see Georgiana now," he said. "Will you unlock the door, or not?"
Darcy placed the key in a drawer. Christopher's jaw clenched, and he pulled himself to his full height. He pulled a pistol out of his jacket and aimed it at the lock.
"I'm sure my father will compensate you," he said, and pulled the trigger. As the smoke cleared away and the door swung open, Christopher turned back to a dumbfounded Darcy, bowed mockingly, and left. Darcy followed soon behind.
Part 29 "How long have you been married?" Jesse asked Georgiana.
"It will be two years in June," she said, smiling. "I was married on my birthday."
"My birthday is in December," said Kitty. "I do not think I would like a winter wedding. I'd rather have it in the spring, when the flowers are blooming and everything is alive."
"How did you meet Christopher?" Georgiana asked Jesse.
"He happened along the road one day when my men and I were ... going about our business."
"You were holding up a carriage," Kitty said bluntly. Jesse nodded.
"We were all nonplused, but he looks at us, calm as you please..."
"Just like him," said Georgiana.
"Yes. Well, we were stuck. There were only three of us, and we had our guns on the passengers; there was not a spare weapon anywhere. Of course, he realized that, so he jumped off his horse, walked casually over to the carriage, leaned against it, and said..."
"Did you know that in most countries people are hanged for robbery?"
Georgiana, Jesse and Kitty looked up to see who had spoken. Darcy and Christopher were standing in the doorway.
"Are you all right, Georgiana?" he asked.
"Perfectly. James was telling us about some of his adventures."
"Is that a fact?" He grinned lopsidedly. "Poor Darcy. And he thought he was getting a bad bargain when Georgiana married me." He took a seat next to his wife.
"At this point, I don't see much difference," said Darcy. "What happened next?"
"He pulled his own gun, and walked around us, collecting the things we had thrown on the ground, and gave them back to the passengers. Well, now we were quite angry, of course."
"Of course," said Kitty. Georgiana looked at Christopher, who was staring sullenly at a place in the carpet before Jesse's seat.
"Jack and Ben tried to shoot..." said Jesse hesitantly. "Two of the passengers, though, were fairly large gentlemen, and they jumped on them. I went to help my friends, but one of the ladies hit me with her reticule."
"I heard that from where I was standing," Christopher remarked. She must have been carrying a horseshoe.
"That is what it felt like. Well, when I came to, I was tied to a tree."
Christopher laughed.
"Tell them the rest, too. You cannot omit the best part."
Jesse fidgeted.
"What?" said Kitty and Georgiana. Darcy looked equally curious. Jesse blushed.
"I had found out earlier that day that all of my clothes needed mending," said Christopher, drawing out the expectancy of his audience. Darcy guessed what was coming, and put a hand to his mouth to stop the laughter. Jesse shot him a look. Georgiana and Kitty were still clueless.
"Well, when I realized that the passengers of the carriage had taken out all the bandits for me, I decided to have a little fun with them. A little trick I learned at Eton. The passengers helped me, too. What a lark!"
"Christopher, what are you talking about?" asked Georgiana.
"I think he's a bit foxed, Georgiana," said Jesse.
"A bit," Christopher agreed, gravely. "But I can still remember what happened. We took off all their clothes, then tied them to the tree. That is all."
"You did what?" said Georgiana, completely shocked. Kitty was convulsed with laughter. Jesse pulled on his ear in embarrassment.
"Why didn't you have them arrested?" asked Darcy. Christopher shrugged and grinned.
"It was more fun this way. Besides, look at him." Jesse cleared his throat.
"Ahem. Yes. We are."
"Yes, for then we would not have heard that delightful story," said Kitty. "Oh! I can just see it!" Then she realized what she was supposed to be seeing, and blushed.
Later, as Christopher and Georgiana drove home, Georgiana contemplated her husband as he tried to keep from being sick.
"Are you all right?" she asked. "I mean, it is obvious you are not feeling well, but are you really sick, or is it only because you made yourself drunk?"
"It's a little hard to tell," he said as the carriage jolted. "Hey!" he shouted to the driver. "Slow down!" He leaned forward, grinding his teeth, and massaged his temples with his fingers.
"Is this what people call a hangover?" she asked, running her fingers through the hair at the back of his neck.
"Not quite. That will come tomorrow."
"If it knocks you up so badly, why do you do it? How many drinks did you have?"
"Eight, I think. You might ask your brother; I'm sure he was counting."
"What do you mean by that?"
"What I mean, cherie, is that he seemed to be trying to trip me up. It was as though he was observing my actions, trying to..."
"Trying to what?"
"I don't know. Something."
"I must confess, you are not behaving at all in the way I thought men behave when they are drunk."
"I don't get drunk; I get sick."
"I don't believe you. You are drunk, just not in the normal way. What did my brother say to make you think these things about him?"
"He asked me to investigate Jesse."
"He did? Why?"
"You mean to say you'd accept him at face value, so to speak, without checking his claims for yourself?"
"Anybody can see he is my brother. He looks just like Fitzwilliam did when he was that age. But that would not irritate you enough for you to be this sullen."
"I'm not sullen."
"Yes, you are. You are just like a little boy."
"He started interrogating me, as if I was the culprit. You were stuck in the parlor with Jesse that whole time, and he was asking me trivial questions, such as, had I ever killed a man? He said that since it was obvious Jesse and I had a past, he had trouble having faith in my integrity."
She started.
"Have you?"
"What?" he asked, sitting up and staring at her. "You don't trust me, either?"
"I trust you. But I really don't know. Have you? Killed a man, I mean?"
He glared furiously at her. If she had not been so desperate to know the answer to her question, she would have been intimidated, but as it was she merely stared back at him. He turned to look out the window before answering.
"Yes, I have."
Georgiana paled. He was not volunteering any information. He did not try to justify himself. He did not even look repentant. Perhaps he was only saying that, to make her stop asking such foolish questions. She tried to tell herself that, but she could not make herself believe it. He was not lying.
"Miss Bennet, would you like to accompany me to the opera?"
Kitty started, closed her book, and looked at Jesse.
"What did you say?"
"Fitz gave me three tickets to the opera, and I was wondering if you would like to accompany me."
"Why did he give you the tickets?"
"He wants me out of the house," he said simply.
"Who else would be coming?"
"I don't know. Do you have any ideas?"
"Do you have any old friends who would enjoy it? You could take them."
"So you don't want to go with me?"
"I don't know why you're asking."
"Are you afraid I'll repeat my actions in the hall?" he challenged with a raised eyebrow. She flushed.
"I should think you would be the one afraid of that, sir."
"I do have three tickets, so you would not be alone with me."
She sighed.
"Very well, then, if you insist. Which opera is it?"
"Don Giovanni."
"Mozart! How delightful! Very well, then, I will go. But who will take the third ticket?"
They contemplated that for a few minutes. The Bingleys had gone home, as had the Blakeneys. None of Jesse's friends would appreciate a theatrical experience. Finally, Jesse's face brightened.
"Mary!"
"Who?"
"My sister, I mean, Miss Matthews. She would love such an opportunity. Could we take her?"
"Certainly. But how will we notify her?"
"Let's surprise her. Come." He took her by the wrist and led her to the stable, where they had a carriage readied.
"Won't she feel a bit inferior?" asked Kitty. Jesse's back stiffened, and he looked at her coldly.
"Mary is not inferior to anybody."
"Of course not," she said kindly. "What I meant is, won't she feel out of place? I mean," she said, flustered, "her clothes. She cannot have any suitable for going to the opera."
"Oh." Jesse had to concede her point. "Well, she is a good deal smaller than you, but do you think your maid, Sally, could lend her some clothes?"
"My maid? No, your sister shall not wear a maid's clothing to the opera. She may have some of mine. I'm sure we can adjust them to her figure. We will take Sally with us, though, for I am lost with a needle."
And they did just that. Mrs. Matthews gaped when Jesse, Kitty and a lady's maid appeared on the step. They hurried and fitted Mary in a lovely dress. The maid promised to take care of little Jessie. And they were off.
As the curtain went up, Jesse turned to Kitty in the box and whispered,
"Thank you."
"For what?"
"For everything," he said. "For being kind to Mary, even when you know she has a child. For not being afraid to be in my company."
"Be quiet!" said Mary. "I want to hear what is going on."
"It is in Italian," Kitty explained in a whisper. Mary nodded, and asked,
"Do you know Italian?"
"No, but I can explain what is happening, if you have any questions."
Mary nodded again. A few minutes later, she tugged at Kitty's sleeve.
"Why did he kill that man?"
"Because the man challenged him to a duel for the attempted rape of his daughter."
Even in the dim lighting of the theatre, Kitty could see Mary go pale. Jesse, having heard the exchange, inquired,
"Are you all right?"
Mary nodded quickly.
"I'll be fine. The .. the music is so wonderful."
Jesse nodded, and turned to Kitty.
"Is there more of that in the rest of the story?"
"I'm afraid so. Why? Didn't Mr. Darcy tell you what the opera was about?"
"No, but I wish he did. I think we should go. Mary looks as though she is going to faint."
"Oh. Mary, would you like to go?" asked Kitty, concerned. Mary nodded, her eyes welling up. They left the theatre at once. As soon as they were in the carriage, Mary buried her face in Jesse's coat.
"I'm sorry," she murmured. "I suppose I'm not as recovered as I had thought.
Part 31 Posted on Friday, 24 December 1999
Oh, and Warning: there is some violence in this chapter.
Kitty and Jesse took Mary to the Darcy townhouse. They were several hours earlier than they had been expected, and found that they had interrupted dinner. Jesse took Mary to the parlor while Kitty went to the dining room.
"Ah, Kitty," said Elizabeth, smiling. "I was beginning to think you were not joining us."
"I should have been heartbroken," said a teasing voice. Kitty looked, and saw that Lord Trenton was there.
"Where were you?" asked Darcy. "I had the servants search everywhere."
"Master James was kind enough to invite me to the opera, but the subject matter disturbed our other guest."
Darcy choked; Elizabeth looked somewhat disturbed.
"He asked you to go with him?"
"Why shouldn't he?" asked Julia.
"But I gave him the tickets to give you a rest from him. I realized he had been paying you a lot of attention lately..."
"Only because everybody else seems to be so good at avoiding him," said Kitty pointedly. "He must spend time with me, if nobody else is available."
"Sit down, Kitty," said Elizabeth, changing the subject.
Kitty obeyed, but stood again, saying,
"I think I should check on Miss Matthews. She was quite distraught."
"Who is Miss Matthews?" asked Darcy.
"An old acquaintance of James's," said Kitty uncomfortably. "He is comforting her at the moment."
"Perhaps I should go, too," said Trenton, half-rising in his seat.
"I think that would be more appropriate," said Darcy. Elizabeth nodded, making it final. Kitty sighed, and led the way to the parlor. Mary was sipping some wine; Jesse had gone to change his clothes. She stood when the door opened.
"Where is James?" asked Kitty.
"We came to see if there was anything we could do," said Trenton. Mary stared at him, her face working, then suddenly fainted. Kitty and Trenton rushed to her. Trenton took her limp body in his arms and carried her to the sofa.
"What is wrong?" Kitty asked in dismay.
"She must have been quite overwrought at that opera, to be this undone," Trenton commented. "Though I forget what to do for fainting. Do you have any smelling salts, Miss Bennet?"
"No, I gave them all to my mother for her birthday."
"Well, then, it is either water or loosening clothing..."
"Why would she faint?" asked Kitty. "I mean, she was quite upset, but she did not strike me as being the sort of girl who would faint."
"We'll do both," Trenton decided. "Go get a glass of water, Miss Bennet." He bit his lip as he began to loosen Mary's clothing. He should have had Miss Bennet do this part, he berated himself. He tried not to think about what he was doing, but could not help blushing. Unfortunately, her eyes opened just then. She blinked groggily. When she saw him, and realized what he was doing, she screamed loudly. He was startled, and tried to make her stop.
"Ssh," he said. "I was just trying to give you room to breathe. You had fainted. I'm sorry, I did not mean to offend you..."
Her screaming had quieted somewhat, but she was still whimpering and her hands were clenched together on her chest, as if holding her clothes shut.
"What is your name?" he asked.
"M-Mary," she stammered, eyeing him warily.
"But it would not be proper for me to call you that, would it?"
She paled, but did not say anything. He knelt beside her again. What could be making her so afraid of him?
"I would like for us to be friends," said he. "If you wish me to call you by your first name, you should know mine. It is Stephen. There now, how is that?"
She seemed to relax, and he smiled. Kitty came back with the water, and he took it from her.
"Of course, I would not wish to give an impression of impropriety, so you may call me Lord Trenton, or just Trenton," he said, putting the glass to her lips. She started trembling again at his nearness. "What is the matter, Mary?" he asked.
Jesse entered at that moment, and totally misconstruing the scene before him, exploded with anger. Grabbing Trenton by the collar, he pulled him up to eye level. The glass of water fell to the floor. Kitty and Mary watched in horror as Jesse sent Trenton sprawling into an end table.
"I should have made sure you were dead!" he growled. Trenton brought a hand up to wipe his nose.
"What are you talking about?" he asked.
"Jesse, stop!" said Mary.
"What are you doing?" Kitty yelled.
"You think you could get away with it again?" Jesse spat.
"Jesse," Mary said pleadingly. "You don't know what you're doing."
"I failed you once, Mary," he said. "I won't do it again."
"I wasn't doing anything to her," said Trenton. "I swear. She had fainted, and I was trying to loosen her clothing..."
He did not get to finish, for those last two phrases spoken together had tried Jesse's patience, and he was done listening. One fist to the jaw sent Trenton reeling. Mary started crying.
"This is all my fault," she sobbed. Jesse stared at her in horror. This was exactly how she had reacted the first time.
"You'll never touch her again," he said lowly, and suddenly there was a knife in his hand. Kitty's eyes widened, and she fled to the dining room to fetch Darcy and Elizabeth.
"You must be mad," said Trenton. "Mary, tell him. I didn't do anything."
The use of her first name angered Jesse even more, and he lunged for him. Trenton backed away, right into a corner. When Jesse shoved his back into the wall, Trenton was able to pry the knife from his hand. This did not deter Jesse. He used his fists, instead. Luckily, Kitty arrived with Darcy just in time, and he pulled Jesse away from the earl.
"What do you think you're doing?" Darcy demanded. He looked at each of the occupants of the room. Mary was sobbing and rocking herself. Jesse was glaring murderously at Trenton and trying to free himself from Darcy's grasp. Trenton was embarrassed, and trying to wipe the blood off his face, which only resulted in red smudges.
"What happened?" Darcy asked imperiously.
"He tried to rape my sister!" said Jesse.
"He imagined the whole thing," said Trenton. "I was only loosening her clothes, because she had fainted."
"Let me explain," said Mary, rising from her place on the sofa. "But first, you are Stephen?"
Trenton nodded hesitantly. She swallowed and squared her shoulders.
"Come with me."
She led them to the next room, where Sally was still delightedly playing with little Jessie. Mary lifted her daughter, and presented her to Trenton.
"This is John's child," she said.
Part 32 "I ... don't understand," said Trenton. "My brother was killed over a year ago."
"Fifteen months," said Mary, nodding. "He was killed the day..." She looked away, unable to go on, but it was unnecessary. Trenton saw the truth of the matter.
Darcy looked at Jesse, who had deflated somewhat, and was no longer resisting his hold on his shirt. Mary continued.
"Everybody who knew the true circumstances of my daughter's birth knew who her father was. When Jesse saw you bending over me, he mistook you for your brother, and ... I think he went mad for a minute. But you are better now, aren't you, Jesse?" she said. He looked at his toes, then nodded reluctantly.
Trenton shook his head.
"It can't be true," he said quietly, then looked at Jesse. "What is your name?"
"J-James Darcy."
"Then why does she call you Jesse?"
"It's a nickname."
"And your name, miss?" he said.
"Mary Matthews."
He nodded, as he put the pieces of the puzzle together.
"Mary ... and Jesse Matthews," he said. Jesse winced, but said nothing. Trenton cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, Darcy, but under the circumstances, I don't think I should stay. Miss Matthews, I am sorry about what my brother did to you, and I'm sorry if the sight of me has brought back unpleasant memories. I'm especially sorry my brother has ruined my chances of getting to know you better, for you seem like a very nice young lady." He swallowed. "How old are you?"
"Sixteen," she said quietly. He winced.
"Miss Bennet," he said, with a voice that was wavering more decidedly with each syllable. "I hope this will not damage our friendship. You have become a very valuable acquaintance."
Kitty smiled wanly. The scene she had witnessed was having an effect on her, as well.
"My apologies to you and your wife, Darcy. Perhaps another time..." he smiled, bowed, and left.
When he was gone, Darcy pushed Jesse onto a sofa. He made a pitiful picture, curled up like a little boy onto one cushion with his chin on his knees. Mary sat beside him, threw her arms around him, and leaned her head on his back.
"What were you thinking, attacking a guest in my home?" Darcy demanded. Jesse stood and walked briskly toward the door.
"I think I should leave," he said.
"No. Stay and explain yourself."
"Will dear," said Elizabeth, who had finally made her way from the dining room, with the patient help of Lady Cavendar. She had been ready to deliver a week ago, though only eight months along, and was now impatient to get it over with. She guided Jesse back to the sofa and sat him down gently, then turned to talk softly with her husband.
"The girl he has known as his sister was raped, and he thought he was seeing it happen again. He was acting on instinct."
"He pulled a knife on the man, Elizabeth!" said Darcy, making no attempt to lower his voice. "He was trying to kill him."
"Did you not feel the same way with Wickham?" Elizabeth continued quietly.
"That was different," Darcy fidgeted.
"Yes," she agreed solemnly. "Wickham only tried to elope with Georgiana. He did not rape her."
"Georgiana?" said Jesse. "And Wickham?"
"Wickham did what?" said Kitty.
"Wickham is dead," said Darcy.
"You killed him?" said Jesse in awe.
"No!" said Darcy indignantly, then softened somewhat. "But I wished to."
"Who is Georgiana?" said Mary.
"My sister," said Jesse and Darcy. Mary was confused. Suddenly, Elizabeth gasped, and bent over slightly.
"What happened?" asked Darcy, rushing to her.
"Nothing, nothing," she said, waving him away. "Go back to your argument."
"Tell me what is wrong."
"It's the baby, imbecile!" she shouted. "Oh, Will," she gasped. "I did not mean it." The room went into pandemonium. Darcy lifted Elizabeth in his arms, and carried her upstairs. He made the trip, despite her repeatedly hitting him over the head, and she was soon in her room with servants rushing everywhere. Henry the footman was sent to fetch a doctor.
"I wanted all my children born at Pemberley!" they heard Elizabeth wail from her room. "So far, they have both been born in London!"
"It's still England," Julia offered. She came into the hall for a few minutes. "Miss Bennet, Mr. Darcy," she said, addressing herself to Kitty and Jesse, "Perhaps you should go to bed. It will likely be a long night."
"Will Lizzy be all right?" asked Kitty.
"There is no reason to think she will not be," said Julia. "Listen to her yell." She smiled mischievously. Darcy paled.
Kitty thought it wise to adhere to Julia's advice, and went to bed. Jesse, on the other hand, went back downstairs to have dinner. Mary kept him company until it was time for Jessica to go to bed. Jesse insisted that they stay there, since there was really no reason for her to go home, and sent word to Mrs. Matthews, so she would not worry.
Henry the footman came back several hours later, with word that the doctor could not come: he was drunk. Jesse and Darcy exchanged worried glances, but Julia said everything was going well; they would probably have no need of a doctor.
"How much longer?" asked Darcy.
"Not long at all," said the optimistic Julia. However, ten minutes later the news was bad.
"A stillborn daughter," she said. "But she is not finished yet. I think it is twins. But if the next one is not dead, we will definitely need a doctor."
"Where does the doctor live?" asked Jesse, standing up. Elizabeth was no longer yelling biting remarks. She had worn out her voice early on in the delivery. Henry the footman told him, and he headed in that direction.
Fifteen minutes later, he returned, pushing a sleepy Dr. Barnes ahead of him.
"He's not drunk," he assured Darcy. "He was feeling lazy tonight."
"Where is the patient?" the doctor asked flatly. He followed the noise to Elizabeth's door.
"Dr. Barnes," said Jesse, before allowing the doctor to go in, "if everything does not turn out all right, we will kill you. Won't we, Darcy?" he prompted. Darcy nodded grimly. The doctor believed them, and set to work.
Ten minutes later, Julia came out, smiling tiredly.
"Twins," she said. "A girl and a boy. I'm afraid the girl did not make it, but the boy is healthy and strong."
"And Elizabeth?" asked Darcy anxiously.
"Resting. It was a relatively quick delivery, but exhausting nevertheless. She is asking for you."
Darcy headed in to see his wife and new son. Before he did, however, he turned to Jesse and said,
"Thank you."
Jesse waved him away, then went to bed.
Part 33 Posted on Saturday, 25 December 1999
Warning: there is a violent dream in this post. :) - Gabby
Jesse kept himself up all night, going over the events of the evening. Mary had been situated in a room next to the nursery, so she could keep an eye on little Jessie. Whenever he remembered his "sister" was in the next room, he could not help remembering the incident with Lord Trenton, and that Kitty had seen the whole thing. He rolled over uncomfortably, trying to find a place on the mattress that could house him and his shame.
The next morning, it became obvious Kitty was avoiding him. He finally cornered her in the parlor, where Julia and Mary were talking to her, and she could not escape.
"Good morning, Miss Bennet," he said, sitting down in a chair behind hers, so that they had to speak awkwardly around the furniture. "Fancy meeting you here. I was under the impression you have left the house." Somehow, he managed to sound wounded.
"I have been here all morning, Mr. Matthews," said she.
"It's Darcy," he reminded her, sticking his head over the top of the chair.
"By birth, you are a Darcy. By character, you are a Matthews."
"You do not see Mary doing anything so dreadful, do you?" he challenged. Mary colored.
"No."
"Perhaps I should go," said Julia, politely making as if to leave.
"No," said Kitty. "There is no cause to do that."
"Well," said Jesse, standing and coming around to look her in the eye. "If you want me to apologize, I will not. I am not sorry for what I did, only that there were so many witnesses."
"Did you kill his brother?" she asked bluntly. Julia gasped. Mary looked at her toes.
"No, I did not," he said. "But I wish I did. I would be greatly proud of that accomplishment. John McGregor was not a man to be admired."
"And you are?"
"I don't hurt people without cause."
"You only steal from people, and threaten their lives if they do not cooperate with you."
"And why not?"
"Because it is wrong."
"Why is it wrong?"
"Well, how would you feel if someone did that to you?"
"I would be angry, I admit, but does that make it morally wrong to steal?"
"Doesn't it?"
"No. I don't understand the whole concept of morals. Why should somebody else tell me what I should or should not do?"
"You cannot be saying," said Julia, "that you think you are justified in being a highwayman."
"Oh, I know it is wrong. I simply want to know why it is wrong. Is it simply society? Or is there something higher? But in all honesty, Lady Cavendar, I enjoy my profession. I was not driven to it. I could have done anything with my life."
"Yes, you could have," said Mary. "At one point, three different businessman had their eye on him for their apprentices."
"But why did you give up that opportunity?" asked Kitty.
"I didn't," said Jesse, shifting his weight awkwardly. "It slipped away of its own accord."
"He fought with a man, was thrown in jail, and by the time he got out, the jobs had been taken," said Kitty.
"Yes, but I had no interest in a career. I need excitement, Miss Bennet. I enjoy my line. It is great fun. You should try it some time."
"I hope, Master James, that you are not coaxing Miss Bennet to be a bandit with you," said Julia. "It would not sit well with Mr. and Mrs. Darcy if you were to steal her away while she was under my charge."
"I am not under anybody's charge," said Kitty. "I am of age to do what I please when I please."
"Very true," said Julia, "but it would still reflect badly on myself, and in my position, I find I need every possible advantage, instead of the opposite."
"Why is that?" asked Mary, shocked. "Lady Cavendar was everything genteel, at least in appearance.
"I am Scottish, for starters," said Julia with a cynical smile. "For another, my father never married my mother. And lastly, I married a man who will be an earl one day, thereby rising above my station. As you can see, society must look down on me."
"But why?" asked Mary. "Why is it so bad for someone such as yourself to marry a man, if you love him?"
"Yes, why?" said Jesse. "Why should people be against you, when none of those things you named are your fault? Does any of it really matter?"
"Of course not," said Julia. "But some people think they do."
"Exactly my point. So perhaps stealing is only outlawed because the majority of the people do not like the idea."
"You do not make any sense, Mr. Darcy," said Julia, shaking her head.
"I think I do," said Jesse, smiling. "But perhaps you ladies would like to test my theory."
"What theory?" asked Kitty.
"That badness is more fun than goodness," said Jesse as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"You are being silly," said Kitty.
"What is wrong with being silly?" Jesse challenged. "Silliness is also underrated, and it is extremely fun. You should try it some time, Miss Bennet."
"I try not to," said Kitty.
"Whyever not?" asked Jesse. Kitty flushed.
"Because I am an adult," she said. "I am no longer a child, and it is time for me to put away childish things."
"But you do not have to be serious all the time," he countered.
"I am not serious all the time. I am merely trying not to be silly!"
"Why should you try so very hard not to be silly?"
Neither of them noticed that Julia and Mary had left the room.
"I do not want to be silly, because I want to be respected! I want to be treated as an adult! I am not a child. I have a mind of my own! I do not have to have everything explained to me as though I were ten-years-old!" She put a hand to her head, startled at having shouted at him so.
"That is all well and good," he said, glaring down at her angrily, "but what about your happiness? What about you?"
"What?" she asked, startled and confused.
"If you are an adult, don't you have the right to behave the way you please, without worrying about other people's censure? You are obviously not a prudish blue-stocking, Miss Bennet. Why should you want to be one?"
"I don't want to be a blue-stocking," she said defensively. "I only want respect."
"I would respect you more if you did what you wanted to do, rather than what you think people want you to do."
"I am my own person," she claimed.
"Are you?" He took her suddenly by the arms, and kissed her violently. She was surprised, but did not fight. After a few moments, he let her go and held her at arm's length. "Now," he said breathlessly, "what does Kitty Bennet want to do?"
"I ... I..." she stammered. "Kiss me again."
He nodded almost grimly, and obeyed.
Part 34 Jesse pulled away from Kitty suddenly, and cleared his throat.
"Well," said he, "perhaps we should go somewhere where we are less likely to be seen."
"To do what?" she asked.
"More of the same," he grinned cheekily. She huffed.
"I assure you, Mr. Darcy, I have had my fill."
"Oh, I see," he said mockingly. "You use me until you are satisfied, then you leave me by the wayside. I don't think so, Kitty."
"If you don't mind, I would like to go to my room."
"I don't mind at all. I'll come with you."
"Stay away from me!" she said. "I'm still angry with you!"
"Why? You said I was dishonorable, unfeeling, an inconsiderate, villainous cur who thinks only of himself. And you said I was silly. If anybody should be angry, I think it should be me."
"You said there was nothing wrong with being silly. And you said you had no wish to be anything other than those other things. I am angry with you because you implied that I allow other people to make decisions for me."
"Don't you?"
"No!"
"Well, we already argued our points in this discussion, I say it is time for fun."
"Let me guess. You are going to go riding into the night and hold up a coach."
"No, I was thinking of something more tame. Perhaps scaring the cook..."
"What do you have against the cook?"
"Nothing. But it would be fun."
"So would taking off all our clothes and romping through Mr. Darcy's maze naked, but you don't see me doing that."
His eyes lit up.
"Why not?"
She looked him in the eye, to see if he was serious. He raised an eyebrow and repeated his question. She burst out laughing.
"You are incorrigible."
"I am serious."
"I know, that is why you are incorrigible."
"I like this silly Kitty," he commented. "Much better than the Miss Catherine Bennet who tries to behave exactly like her sister, Mrs. Darcy."
"What is wrong with Lizzy?" she asked, affronted.
"Nothing at all. But she is who she is naturally; she does not copy another person's character."
Kitty flushed.
"I do not copy Lizzy. But Papa always liked her best..."
"Oh, I see," he said, smiling in understanding. "Well, the woman I called Mother always liked Daniel best, but I didn't care."
"And look where that has gotten you."
"Exactly. So, is this what you were like before you came to Pemberley?"
"No," she rolled her eyes. "You don't want to know what I was like then."
"Yes, I do."
"Then I shall take you to meet my sister, Lydia Wickham."
"She is your sister? Fancy that. But she is so stupid."
"When did you meet my sister? And who are you to call her stupid?"
"Pardon me, Kitty, but anyone who married George Wickham would have to be stupid."
"How did you know him?"
Jesse smiled almost goofily, remembering.
"Mrs. Wickham thought I was a Captain, and flirted quite shamelessly with me."
"Did you flirt back?" she asked, becoming slightly jealous. He shrugged.
"Perhaps. But anyway, Mr. Wickham's friends persuaded him to call me out." He smiled goofily again.
"Well, what happened?" she asked anxiously.
"He didn't show up," he said, pausing for a few minutes. "So Tom and Jack snuck into his room and gave him a beating for his cowardice." He threw his head back and laughed. Kitty looked at him reproachfully.
"What?" he said, after a few minutes. "I didn't tell them to. But he walked with a limp for several weeks."
Kitty could no longer hide her smile, and laughed with him.
Part 35 The lights were dimmed. Christopher bounced Matthew on one knee as Marguerite left the room for a moment to retrieve the cake. Georgiana's hand slipped into Christopher's, and they smiled at each other in the dark. There was some banging in the hall outside the room, and Percy went to check on his wife. Josee sat on her hands in eager anticipation. Finally, the door opened again and Marguerite rolled the cake in. Eighteen candles shimmered, and everybody clapped and sang as Josee began to plan her blowing strategy.
"Make a wish," said Marguerite just before Josee bent over.
"I've already wished twenty times today that Anthony could be here," she remarked, then blew out all eighteen candles in one blow.
"He is probably still looking for a proper engagement ring," said Christopher, taking one of his sister's hands in his and inspecting each finger critically.
"He gave me a ring," said Josee, affronted. "But it doesn't fit me."
"All the more reason for him to get a proper one," said Christopher.
"I like this one," she said, showing him the ring on a chain around her neck.
"Oh, well," he shrugged as Marguerite, licking her fingers, shoved a plate of cake under Josee's nose. "You'll still need one for her finger."
"Did you get me a ring, Chris?" she asked, glancing sideways at him. He winced slightly.
"No, Josephine Louise," he said. "Wait here. I will get you your present." He tucked Matthew under his arm like a sack of potatoes, and left the room.
"Christopher!" Georgiana called. "Be careful with him!"
"He can't hear you," said Josee.
"And even if he could," said Percy, "he would not listen."
"Have some cake," said Marguerite.
"Mama," said Josee, "may Anthony and I get married this year?"
Percy and Marguerite exchanged a glance.
"No, I don't think so," said Marguerite. "You're still a child."
"I'm eighteen now! And you have Emily, and Christopher still lives with you. Why should I have to stay?" Josee pouted.
"Because you are pouting," said Percy.
"What?" Josee looked at him quizzically.
"Adults don't pout," said Christopher, reentering the room.
"You pout quite often," Georgiana remarked. He grinned warningly at her.
"For your birthday," said Christopher, presenting his sister with a package. "And also to bribe you to take care of Matthew whenever we need you in the next year."
She put her cake down, licked her fingers, took the package, and slapped him playfully.
"You're terrible."
"Where is my cake?" he asked, turning around to look at his mother.
"Cut it yourself," she said, rolling her eyes. "Men."
"I don't think Christopher should have any cake," said Georgiana playfully. "He ate it all last month for his birthday."
"Georgiana!" said Christopher.
"Really?" said Percy. "I was under the impression the rest of it was given to the dogs."
"It was," said Christopher, and they all laughed. "What?"
"Either you took food from the dogs, or you are a dog," Josee hooted. Christopher grinned in embarrassment.
"Well, I meant the rest after I was done. And it was my birthday; I think I am entitled to an extra bit of cake."
"No need to pout," said Georgiana.
"Why was Chris allowed to get married, and I'm not?" asked Josee. "That's not fair!"
"Because, Josephine Louise, I did not ask," said Christopher.
"Christopher is older."
"Perhaps we want to try each approach on you two, to see what will work best for Emily."
"That's not fair! I didn't ask to be born second."
"I didn't ask to be born first," Christopher countered. "But don't worry. I'm sure you'll be married before you are thirty. And if you wait five more years, Emily can be your bridesmaid. Haven't you always wanted a sister to be your bridesmaid?"
"Papa!" said Josee, pointing at her brother. "Make him stop!" Christopher raised his hands in mock surrender.
"Stop teasing your sister," said Percy dryly. Josee stamped her feet in frustration, then shrugged.
"Oh, well. At least Anthony visits almost every day."
"Christopher," said Percy, "can you explain to me why I received a bill for a new set of doors today?"
Christopher threw back his head and laughed, then cleared his throat and said,
"A misunderstanding between myself and Darcy. He wouldn't let me out of his study, so I - ahem - shot the lock off."
"So why does he need a whole door? Why can he not simply replace the lock?"
"Well, the explosion knocked the door down. The hinges probably broke, too."
"Christopher, the gun my brother keeps in his study is not loaded," said Georgiana.
"I know," he smiled. He sat down and placed Matthew in between his knees, so he could share his cake with him. Unfortunately, most of it ended up on the baby's face. The small tête-à-tête ended when Matthew landed a lusty kick into his father's stomach. "Oh, my," Christopher grunted. "Georgiana, you take him. I think he is tired of looking at me."
"As well he should be," said Josee.
Christopher looked at Georgiana over Josee's head and grinned. Ever since Georgiana had met Jesse, her nightmares had lessened. She had not broached the subject of his past with Christopher, either, and he was beginning to allow himself to hope they had put it behind them.
Somewhere in the recesses of her mind, Georgiana knew she was dreaming. The vivid reality of the dream, and the harshness of the voices around her, however, made her forget. She was standing behind a tree in the middle of a forest. She heard a carriage approaching, and an ominous, suspicious clicking sound. Spinning around, she saw the carriage coming over a hill, then several men run towards it. They raised guns over their heads, shouting battle cries, and to her horror, the carriage stopped. This was usually where she woke up, but tonight, the dream continued.
The bandits shot at the carriage. It seemed to Georgiana that the shooting lasted forever, and she covered her ears to block the noise. Her heart was thumping wildly, and she knew she should get out of sight, but she could not move. Finally, the volley ceased. The carriage door swung open, and several people fell out. The bandits rejoiced, and began searching through the bodies. Georgiana held her breath. She knew who they were looking for.
"Don't be in the carriage," she whimpered.
Christopher bolted awake at the sound of her voice.
"Hm? What?" he said, blinking. "Do you want something?"
Suddenly, the carriage disappeared. The bandits stormed towards her, not walking, but flying.
"Where is he?" they demanded, reaching out to shake her.
"I don't know," she cried. Dreams weren't supposed to be this physical.
They stopped suddenly, and looked in the opposite direction. There was a man standing next to a tree with a handkerchief over his face. They rushed to him, binding his arms behind him and forcing him to his knees, but he did not flinch. He only stared at her, and she stood frozen to her spot, unable to help.
"Christopher!" she screamed.
Christopher was wide awake by now, and he hurriedly lit a candle.
"Georgiana," he said urgently. "Wake up."
The bandits yanked him by the hair, forcing him to look at them. Then they pulled off the mask that had been Georgiana's hope. As long as it remained in place, she knew it might not be her husband. But now she saw it was, indeed.
"No!" she yelled.
Christopher pulled his arms back suddenly. Was she yelling at him, or whatever was in her dream? He tentatively touched her again. She was still sleeping.
"Georgiana," he said, completely shaken. "Please wake up." He took her in his arms and began to rock her, much as she had done Matthew earlier that evening.
"No, please don't," she begged, watching helplessly as they all pointed their guns at him. They all went off at the same time, and everything went black.
Georgiana started in her sleep. She brought her hands to her eyes, and sobbed into his chest. Christopher held her closer, kissing her forehead over and over, and running his hand through her sleep-tousled locks.
"Shh," he said in a shaky voice. "Hush now. Everything is all right."
"Don't leave me," she whimpered.
"I won't."
"Please don't leave me," she repeated. He buried his face in her shoulder, and repeated his assurance.
"I'll never leave you," he said. She opened her eyes, and looked at him.
"Oh, Christopher!" she said, throwing her arms around his neck. "You're alive! You're not dead! They didn't... but... Are you real?" She pushed back, and ran her hands over his face and down his shoulders. He raised himself to his knees, and she followed as though they were one.
"I'm here," he said, wondering at her words. "Georgiana, what is going on?"
"Oh, I thought you were..." she hugged him again, then kissed him.
"You thought I was dead?" he asked, blinking in amazement. He fell down on his elbows and stared at her. She giggled in giddy relief. The dream was not real.
"No. Yes. No. I thought you were a bandit."
Part 36 Posted on Sunday, 26 December 1999
Georgiana's words astonished Christopher. She was beginning to come out of the state immediately following a nightmare, and on realizing how foolish her assumptions were, she blushed. Christopher turned around slowly and climbed out of the bed.
"That is what you thought?" he asked quietly. She blushed again, and nodded. "But I told you I was a private investigator," he said. He began to get dressed, taking his frustration out on the drawers of the dresser.
"I know, but... What are you doing?"
"I think, m'dear, we should finish this night separately. You obviously do not trust me... And then, you came to my room that one night, to tell me about Matthew..."
"I know," she said, embarrassed. "Please don't go. I realize it was silly. Forget I said anything."
"No, I won't," he said, and headed for the door. He stopped in the doorway, looking at the floor, for a few seconds, then turned again to face her. "Is it Jesse?" he asked desperately.
"What about him?" Now Georgiana was confused.
"Well," he said, very nearly perplexed, "you weren't having nightmares before that ball..." He came back to stand next to the bed, and folded his arms, looking intently at the pattern in the carpet.
"It has nothing to do with Jesse," said Georgiana, encouraged that he was trying to make sense of everything. "Well, very little. He only made me realize how little I know of you."
"Well, I don't know that much about you, either."
"But Christopher, there is so much more about you to know than there is me, and it is not only because you are older. You already know about Wickham, and that was the most significant episode in my past. How did you know Wickham?"
"Your cousin asked me to watch him, so I did, that is all. Is there anything else you need to know?"
"Please don't be angry with me," she said. "I am only curious."
"I am not angry," he said, working hard to make those words true. "You are obviously more than curious. And I do not see what my past has to do with now."
"You said you had killed a man. That is what you said."
"Yes, I did. And I'd do it again."
"Who was he?"
"Which one?"
Georgiana's face fell.
"More than one?" She swallowed. "When?"
He sighed, and sat on the bed, turning his body to face her.
"The first was a month before we were married. Tom and Jim Gorfey came to my room and started waving knives around." He smiled humorlessly. "Tom had the good sense to be knocked unconscious. Jim fell on my knife."
"That was self-defense," she said, relieved. He nodded.
"Yes, I suppose it was."
"What about the other one?"
"Last March."
"Why did you kill him?"
"I happened upon him about to kill a girl. So I shot him."
Georgiana smiled tentatively, and rising to her knees, came to lean her chin on his shoulder.
"I had heard you had a habit of saving women in distress. After all, that is how we met."
"Well," he said, still in a rather black mood, "at the time the girl did not thank me."
"Why not?"
"He had already raped her. When Jesse found out..."
"Jesse? What has he to do with it?"
"The girl was Mary Matthews. She was fifteen. The man was John McGregor, the Earl of Trenton. When Jesse found out, he almost killed me, for not getting there earlier."
"But what if you had arrived a few minutes later?" said Georgiana.
"Just so. Then, he wished I had not killed him, but allowed him to do it." Christopher shook his head. "He blamed himself. Then I came home. I didn't know until recently that the poor girl had the man's child."
"Christopher!" she exclaimed suddenly, and turned him around to look at his back. "Last March," she said, tracing a scar that ran from his left shoulder blade to the middle of his backbone. "I worried for days over that, it was so red and ... painful looking."
"Yes, well, you needn't have bothered. Worrying, I mean."
"Of course I would worry!" she said. "Did Jesse do that? Is that what you meant by almost killing you?" He nodded, and she pursed her lips. "I'll have to speak to him about that. Brother or no brother, he has no business attacking my husband."
Christopher grinned.
"It seems your brothers have a fondness for that pursuit."
"Fitzwilliam never... Oh! Don't say it!"
"Well, you were right. I was not your husband at the time."
"Oh."
"Is there anything else you wish to know? It seems I am not going to hold anything back tonight."
"Is there anything you wish to tell me?" she asked. "Now that I think of it, there is something that makes me wonder."
"What is that?"
"Why do you seem to heal so quickly all the time? When you fought Wickham, it only took a week or so before you were perfectly fine. When you fought Jesse, that only took about the same amount of time..."
"How long should it take?"
"I don't know. Perhaps I am being silly again. But it did seem as though it should take longer for such angry wounds to heal."
Christopher grinned.
"Before we went to America, I took you to visit a friend, did I not?"
"Yes. Mr. Cartwright."
"Just so," he nodded. "Well, Jack is an oddity of sorts. He claims he talks to God, and that God gives him all sorts of ideas. When I first met him, he gave me an assortment of ... potions, I suppose you call them. Remarkable healing qualities."
"Oh. Do you still have them?"
"Yes."
"Oh. Is Mr. Cartwright a witch?"
"No." Christopher laughed. "He is only odd."
"I thought he was a very sweet man."
"That he is. And wise, too."
"How did you meet him?"
Christopher cleared his throat, and hesitated.
"It was a dark and stormy night," he said in a low voice.
"Oh, stop teasing me!" she slapped his arm and laid back on her pillow with her arms folded.
"But it was!" he protested, then shrugged and laid back with her. "Oh, well. I shall try a different approach. I was nineteen, I believe, just about a year before I met you. I had been in London for two years, and frankly, I was tired of it. So I went home, to reconcile with my parents. However, when I knocked on the door, I was told they had gone to Italy. The butler, you see, was new, and did not recognize me."
"But I thought you were telling me how you met Mr. Cartwright."
"I am . Let me finish. But be prepared, it is an odd story. I was walking my horse through a small town, on my way back to London, and had to cross a bridge. Well, I was very wet already, because it had been raining nearly all day, and now I was cold, because although the rain had stopped, the wind had not. So I was pondering the wisdom of jumping," he said lightly. Georgiana gasped.
"Jumping? But Christopher... you could have killed yourself!"
"I know. And I knew it then, too. Fortunately, Jack happened by and ... I suppose he saved me from myself."
"You were considering suicide?"
"It confuses me, too, believe me," he confessed. "But Jack took me home, told me not to worry, the water in that river often had that effect on people, and before I left, I somehow ended up with a box of those vials we were discussing earlier."
Georgiana shook her head.
"It is unbelievable!" she said, wide-eyed. "You do not still think of suicide, do you?"
"Oh! No, no, no!" he exclaimed. "I am convinced it was a blessing in disguise, for if I had not had those potions, I should not have been able to get to Pemberley in time to save you and Alex. There would have been any number of other inconveniences, as well," he grinned. "Imagine an investigation put off because the detective was foolish enough to get into a brawl at the tavern, or some such nonsense."
He grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head with one hand, which caused his hair to stick out in all directions. Georgiana wanted to ask him about said brawls in taverns, but her eyes were beginning to droop, and she could not help thinking he looked adorable with his hair messed up in that manner. She laid back on her pillow, assured that her husband was by no means a criminal.
"Sleepy, cherie?" he whispered into her ear. She nodded and yawned. "Well, no wonder. No more bad dreams, I trust?" She shook her head. "Good. Good-night, Georgie."
She was already asleep.
Part 37 As usually happened when one of her daughters had a child, Mrs. Bennet arrived several days later. Julia met her at the door, on the way to the parlor.
"My dear Lady Cavendar," she said in a tone that belied the endearment, "show me to Lizzy at once! I must see my new grandson!"
"I'm afraid Mrs. Darcy is sleeping at the moment," said Julia, smiling civilly. She was perfectly aware that Mrs. Bennet did not like her. "But I believe Miss Bennet is in the parlor, with Master James. Perhaps you could wait in there for a while."
"Oh, very well," said Mrs. Bennet. "If it must be so, but I had hoped to see my little grandson. What have they called him?"
"Christopher Bennet Darcy. Little Master Alexander calls him Kit."
"Oh, what a lovely name!" Mrs. Bennet cooed. "Where is Alex?"
"I believe he is also in the parlor," said Julia, smiling. "As are Jason and Jocelyn," she added as they entered said parlor.
Jesse, Kitty and Mary looked up from their card game when the ladies entered. Kitty groaned.
"What is the matter?" asked Jesse, taking his turn and tapping Kitty's arm to tell her it was her turn.
"Mama is here and I am losing. Can it get any worse?"
"Oh. That is your mother?" he said.
"Yes, and now that I think of it, you threatened her life once."
"I did?" He looked again at Mrs. Bennet and flushed. "So I did. I threatened yours, too, if I remember correctly."
"I don't think she remembers. But I will never forgive you," Kitty proclaimed. Jesse made no reply. Her jesting tone was lost on him, and he frowned at his cards. Mary looked at each of them and smiled.
"Mr. Darcy," said Mrs. Bennet, approaching them, "when shall I be allowed to see my daughter?"
"She is sitting just before you," Jesse motioned to Kitty while he wrote down the score.
"She meant Lizzy," said Kitty. "Mama, this is Miss Matthews, and this is Master James Darcy, Mr. Darcy's brother."
"Nonsense," said Mrs. Bennet. "I know my son-in-law when I see him. Well, I will see Lizzy now, I believe."
"Is she always like that?" Jesse asked after she had gone. Kitty nodded dismally.
"Always."
"Your poor father."
She kicked him. He yelped, then scowled at her.
"What was that for?"
"You're not making it easy for me to respect my mother."
"Pardon me, but she is the one making it difficult. I was only commenting on it."
Kitty shook her head.
"I will not argue with you."
"Thank you."
"But I cannot play with you anymore, either."
"Why not?" he looked and sounded properly disappointed. Mary threw her head back and laughed. "What is so amusing?"
"The two of you. You are so funny! Miss Bennet cannot play with you because she has to help me prepare for the ball tonight."
"Yes," said Kitty. "What other reason could we possibly have?" She took Mary by the arm, and led her upstairs. They passed David on the way, just as he came in the door.
"Mrs. Hall," he said, "Where are Julia and the twins?" Just as he spoke, a little demon in yellow muslin threw itself onto his leg.
"Papa! Papa!" it said.
"Jocelyn?" he said, picking the girl up. "Is that you? Where is your mother?"
"Mama wif Desse!"
"With whom?" he said. "Where is Jason?"
"Dason hiding."
"Well, we will look for him. Oh, Jason! Come out, boy, and greet your father. Hello, Darcy," he said, nodding briefly at Jesse. He put Jocelyn down, and went to greet his wife.
"David," said she, "this is not Mr. Darcy, this is Master James."
"Who?" said David, perplexed, then grinned in astonishment. "Oh, yes! I had a letter from Darcy explaining the situation, but I did not believe it. Well," he said, stiffening his posture and glaring intimidatingly at Jesse. "What have you to say for yourself?"
"What should I say?" said Jesse, raising a haughty eyebrow.
"Well, you could apologize for bringing the family to an all-time low," said David, still grinning. Suddenly, two little demons attacked him, and he was forced to give up his interrogation.
"Papa! Papa!" they both cried.
"Oof!" was all he said, and his knees buckled. The children laughed, and clapped their hands as he rolled over on his back and began tickling them. Alex wandered in and joined the fun, adding to Lord Cavendar's undoing.
Jesse and Julia watched and laughed.
Part 38
This chapter is dedicated to Shemmelle. :) - Gabby
Julia convinced David to accompany them to the ball, and the four of them - Lord and Lady Cavendar, Kitty, and Mary - arrived at precisely nine o'clock. Kitty had lent Mary one of Lizzy's old dresses, and it fit her to perfection. Kitty smile at her protégé proudly, certain that one of the gentlemen present tonight would find her appealing enough to overlook Jessie.
As for Mary, she enjoyed the knowledge of looking quite well, but could not help feeling out of place. As David led Julia out, and a young gentleman came to claim Kitty's hand, Mary quietly took a seat behind a potted plant. She watched the dancers happily, tapping her foot to the three-quarter beat of the music, and almost had the luxury of forgetting her troubles when she heard a sigh from behind her. Turning to see who was suffering thus, she gasped when she saw it was Lord Trenton. She turned quickly back to her seat, fanning herself rapidly. He looked so much like his brother, and yet so much more appealing. And he seemed sad. She wondered why, and decided to take a bold step.
Disguising her voice, she said,
"May I ask what is troubling you so, my lord? No, do not look at me."
"Why not?" he asked.
"Because that would ruin the effect. You will not confide in me if you are perfectly aware you are talking to a person."
He smiled ruefully, but she did not see it.
"I am already aware of that, Miss ... what is your name?"
"Please, no questions."
"You asked me a question, and a highly personal one. I thought we should at least exchange pleasantries."
"You are teasing me," she pouted, and had an odd rush of pleasure at the knowledge that she was once again flirting. "Please tell me what is bothering you."
"I'm afraid I have been unlucky in love," he said quietly, hardly knowing why he was confiding in her, but feeling a sense of relief, now that he was talking about it.
"Oh? May I ask who the young lady was?"
He sighed.
"I would rather you didn't."
"Has she accepted another man?"
"No, but another man is the cause of my misfortune."
"What man? Perhaps you may call him out," he said teasingly. He shook his head despondently.
"One cannot duel with a dead person. The man, my lady, is my brother, who has been dead for just over a year."
Mary gasped.
"Were you in love with Miss Bennet?" she asked.
"What? How did you know?"
"I .. I guessed. You are watching her."
"No, I am not in love with Miss Bennet. But I did think I could have been."
"I see. But why should your brother prevent you from courting Miss Bennet? As far as I know, she never met him."
"No, she did not. But she is not the one I am lamenting," he said in mock solemnity. "I met another young lady who seemed to have far more potential than even Miss Bennet."
"Y-you did?"
"Yes. But my brother has done her a great wrong, which I can never erase, and she may never forget. Or forgive."
"How well do you know the girl?" she asked.
"Hardly at all," he admitted ruefully. "I only met her once. She had fainted..."
She gasped, and her hand flew to her mouth to hide her shock. He wondered why she was so startled, and almost turned around before remembering her request to remain anonymous.
"You are not going to publish these confessions in the paper, are you, my lady?" he asked teasingly. "It is most singular that you may know my identity, but I may not know yours."
"I promise, my lord, what you are telling me will not be repeated to a living soul. But why are you so grieved, if you only met her once?"
"She impressed me greatly with her character. In that brief meeting, she showed presence of mind, great intelligence, and an inability for prejudice. She did not hate me for my brother's sin, and I am grateful for that."
"Then why are you so hopeless? Surely that must give you hope."
He shook his head.
"It is impossible. She has my brother's child. She can never love me."
"Then you love her?"
He laughed shortly.
"Perhaps. It seems silly to fall in love after only one meeting, though, and that is why I would have to say, no, I do not love her. But I do admire her a great deal."
"Perhaps she feels the same about you," she said in a tiny whisper, barely able to keep her disguise. "Perhaps she thinks you can never like her, because of what your brother did."
"Why should she think that?" he exclaimed. "She is the wronged party. I would not blame her if she could not bear the sight of me. I would expect nothing else from a young woman in her position."
"But you already admitted she was unusual," she said, playing with her handkerchief nervously. For some reason, she did not want him to give up on her. She did not know why, but she did like him.
"Yes, she is," he sighed. She smiled, and decided to tease him.
"You are beginning to sound much like a lovelorn dove, my lord," she said.
"It is silly, I know," said he, looking down.
"Most girls my age would find it romantic," she commented.
"Your age, my lady? What would that be?"
"I am not yet seventeen, my lord," she admitted. Trenton stiffened, realizing the similarity of ages, and also that his companion's voice had changed. He turned to look at her. When he saw it was indeed her, he reddened in embarrassment, but walked over to face her.
"Miss Matthews," said he, bowing. She looked up at him, embarrassed and flustered, putting her fan to use quite vigorously. "It seems you have extracted quite a confession from me," he said, offering his arm. "Would you please dance with me?"
She took his arm quietly, and allowed him to lead her to the floor.