Author's Note: Thank you for your reviews. Your comments are so encouraging.

I ended up dividing up the scenes a little differently than I had originally intended. So, this chapter is actually not as long as expected.

This is unbeta'd. All the mistakes are my own. Please review.

Chapter 4

February 28, 1812

London, Matlock House

Darcy impatiently waited in his aunt's sitting room. She had sent a terse message demanding that he attend her immediately. So, being the dutiful nephew that he was, he had canceled his appointments for the morning and had rushed right over. But now, fifteen minutes after his arrival, he still sat waiting for her to make an appearance and wondering what had been of such dire importance that he had been summoned in such a strident manner. However, he should have known that he would be made to wait, for she considered that all of her children, nephews, and nieces were at her beck and call and that they should drop everything the moment she sent for them and be happy to await her pleasure.

Finally, the Countess swept into the room with her customary grace and aplomb. A maid followed her carrying a tea tray.

Darcy sprang to his feet and kissed her cheek. "Aunt Eleanor, good day to you. Your note seemed quite urgent. How may I be of service?"

"Yes, well thank you for attending me so promptly, William." She prepared him a cup of tea and passed it to him before answering his query. "Actually, I am determined to be of service to you."

"Oh, how so?"

"First of all, what were you thinking, dining at the home of that tradesman's son? You must distance yourself from him. It was at his horrid estate that you were ensnared into this travesty of a marriage."

"Aunt, Bingley is my dear friend. It was not his fault that I was compromised in his home. He had already taken measures to rein in his sister, and he was not at fault for the reprehensible actions of that woman who imposed herself on me." He rose and paced in an agitated manner. "If I were to distance myself from Bingley, I believe that it would draw the type of scrutiny that we have been trying to avoid."

Aunt Eleanor regarded him skeptically. "Perhaps. But I maintain that you had best back away. Nothing good can come from maintaining a relationship with that family." Waving her hand in resignation, she said peevishly, "But why do I waste my breath, you children never listen to me."

"My Lady, I thank you for all that you have done, but I believe that I can judge for myself which friends are worthy and which ones are not."

She eyed him with thinly veiled impatience over her teacup. "Oh, very well. But I am still not done with you. What is this that I hear about you and some of the young widows and matrons of our acquaintance? I find it hard to believe that you would be drawn in by any of them. Yet, I have heard several rumors of them throwing themselves at you." She paused to gauge his reaction to her words before continuing. "Your uncle and I have gone to a great deal of trouble to keep the rumors at bay concerning your marriage. I do not want to be repaid for my endeavors by having you paired in the gossip rags with one of those ladies."

He barked out a laugh drawing her glare. Modifying his expression to one expressing appropriate respect and retaking his seat, he said, "Actually, I have been feeling rather set upon. Before my marriage, I had considered that the young maidens were quite determined in their pursuit of me as their matrimonial target. But I now know that the widows in society are absolutely predatory. Several have tried to slip me notes, corner me in dark hallways, and have all but invited me to visit them outside of the usual visiting hours. But I have been able to elude them so far, and I am careful to show no undue interest in any of them." He twisted his signet ring in agitation and lowered his voice. "You are aware of my father's indiscretions and how devastating it was to my mother to have him behaving so poorly. Rest assured that I will never conduct myself in such a manner. You have my word."

She reached over and patted his hand. "You are a good lad, William."

At that moment, they were interrupted by the entrance of Viscount Worthington. He walked over to kiss his mother's offered hand, "Mother. Darce. This looks like a council of war." He glanced back and forth between the two. Then he smirked and waggled his eyebrows. "Has she given you your marching orders, Wills? Ah yes, let me guess. Stay away from the merry widows." He laughed at the expression on Darcy's face. "Ha, I guessed correctly. Lady Felicia had you in her sights from that first introduction. You had best be cautious around that one."

His mother scolded, "Rupert, at times, you can be the most outrageous gossip. However, I do regret that Lady Felicia was included in the party at the theatre that evening. She does seem to be quite indiscreet."

Worthington ruefully eyed Darcy. "Like I said, you should be especially careful with her. I have heard that she does not take rejection well."

Darcy rolled his eyes, "Thank you for the warning, Cousin. However, it may have come too late. At the Hamerick's Ball two nights ago, I refused to dance with her."

Aunt Eleanor gasped in alarm. "Fitzwilliam. What possessed you to do such a thing?"

"It was not my fault, Aunt. She had maneuvered me quite expertly into a situation where I was duty bound to request her hand for the next set. Furthermore, it was the waltz. Well, I was determined to not be seen dancing so intimately with her, for it would have been in the gossip rags the next morning. So, I simply told her that I only waltzed with my wife."

Worthington said approvingly, "Well done, cousin. Hopefully, that will placate the lady's pride. I am pleased that you can think so well on your feet."

"It warms my heart to gain your approval," Darcy said sarcastically.

"Oh, yes. You should pay attention to my great wisdom, my young cousin. After all, I am older and wiser than you, so heed my words." Darcy gave him a scowl while his mother rolled her eyes in exasperation. The Viscount smugly continued, "Do not scoff. If you had asked me, I could have counseled you to steer clear of Mrs. Preston at the Woodson's musicale last night. That lady will not hesitate to ambush you in broad daylight. I was on the verge of intervening on your behalf when you managed to extricate yourself quite elegantly. I was impressed by your hasty retreat. It was nicely done."

Darcy treated the Viscount to a very dark look, then turning back to the Countess, he said, "All of this societal maneuvering has me feeling more and more homesick for Pemberley."

She scolded, "Do not even consider it. You still have much work to do to keep the gossip mongers at bay. If we do have problems with Lady Felicia or her ilk, we may have to bring your bride to town."

Darcy's face took on a look of horror. "Absolutely not! I will not be in the same county as that woman. She stays in Hampshire. There is nothing that Vixen can do to keep the rumors at bay. She could only be a hindrance to our efforts, not a help."

Worthington only shrugged at his vehemence. "Well, we shall see. But I agree with mother. If your wife was in London, these widows would be less inclined to approach you so brazenly."

Darcy shook his head. "I will not be bringing Elizabeth Darcy to London this season, and that is final. Perhaps in the Autumn, for the little season I will do so. But, at this moment, I am still too angry to be in her company." He rubbed his forehead and said, "I am beginning to think that I am cursed. In August of last year, I had to rescue my dear sister from a truly appalling individual. And then, in October, I was compromised by another equally appalling young woman and forced to marry her. And now, society seems full of grasping females bent on making my name synonymous with scandal. Yes, I must be cursed."

Worthington guffawed and said, "Darce, you truly need to quit feeling so sorry for yourself. Do not expect me to have tears in my eyes over your list of misfortunes."

Aunt Eleanor gave Darcy a penetrating look. "By the way, I have been meaning to ask about the Manor House at your Chilton Estate. Is it a comfortable house or a drafty old pile? I am just curious as to how uncomfortable you have made your wife."

Darcy averted his eyes and responded, "My wife does not live in the Manor House. It is currently under a long-term lease to my friend, John Knightley. His elderly aunt and her husband live there."

His aunt tut-tutted. "So, I presume that she is in the Dower House."

Refusing to display the discomfort he felt under her scrutiny, he replied, "No, the dower house was damaged some years ago by a fire to such an extent that I saw no advantage in restoring it." He was beginning to resent the feelings of guilt that this line of questioning was evoking. After all, he had done as well as he should have for someone who had acted in such a reprehensible manner towards himself.

Worthington narrowed his eyes suspiciously and said, "So just where did you house your wife? In a shoe or in a pumpkin shell? Peter, Peter Pumpkin Eater!" He chuckled at his own joke while maintaining his unrelenting stare. Aunt Eleanor, too, pinned her nephew with her expectant gaze.

With growing asperity, Darcy said, "She is in a perfectly acceptable cottage on the estate. I do not understand why you are asking about her. She is as comfortable as she should expect to be."

Aunt Eleanor frowned in puzzlement. "Just what sort of cottage are we speaking of? A farmer's cottage? A tenant cottage? Or an old rectory cottage?"

Losing patience, he said, "It once belonged to the local bailiff." Upon seeing their outraged expression, he rushed to describe the situation. "It is perfectly sound. Several years ago, I updated the kitchen and plumbing. She has an adequate complement of servants, especially for a woman who does not entertain. She is fine. Quite comfortable, I assure you."

Worthington shook his head in amazement. "The bailiff's cottage! Zounds!" Staring at him in consternation, he exclaimed, "Remind me to never cross you, Darce. That is cold, ice cold."

Aunt Eleanor looked equally shocked. "Fitzwilliam, I knew that you were resentful, but do you not think that you have taken things a bit too far? I assume that by new plumbing, you mean that she does not have to haul her own water or deal with chamber pots."

"Of course not. It has all the latest conveniences."

She gave him a look that was only marginally impressed. "Well, that at least is something. I can only hope that you will not need to rely on her for any aid in the coming months. Her justifiable resentment may be too much to overcome. I pray that you will reconsider the arrangements that you have put in place. After all, she is a gentlewoman, not some shop girl."

Darcy rolled his eyes. "As I have said, she is fine. Please, may we move on to some other subject, or may I be dismissed, Aunt?"

Again, Lady Eleanor tutted at her nephew before bringing out her list of the coming weeks' engagements. She proceeded to meticulously lay out their social calendar for the next two weeks and let them know that she expected them both to comply with her plans.

Worthington and Darcy left together cutting through Hyde Park in the direction of their own homes.

Worthington said, "Darcy, I am beginning to suspect that your vehement condemnation of your wife is simply a mask for something much warmer."

Darcy gave him a warning glare, "She is nothing but a mercenary chit. I have no other feelings for the woman."

The Viscount grinned. "The way that you are holding onto your rancor hints at more than just outrage that you were entrapped. I see a bit of disappointment in your eyes," he lifted his eyebrows suggestively. "Perhaps, disappointment that she was not the lady that you hoped her to be."

"Just stop, Worthington. Stop right there. I do not need your teasing, especially concerning my marriage. So please, keep your smug analysis to yourself." He would never admit to anyone how close to the truth that his cousin's words came.

Worthington laughed while putting his hands up in mock surrender, "Forgive me, Darce. Sometimes I cannot resist tweaking your nose."

Darcy rolled his eyes in exasperation at his cousin's tiresome jokes.

ppp

March 4, 1812

Darcy House, London

Roberts, the butler, opened the door and intoned, "Mr. Everson, sir."

Everson, Darcy's London steward, greeted his employer with a nod. After Roberts' departure, the two men took their customary seats, before and behind the large desk. They exchanged the normal banalities concerning the city streets and the weather before moving onto their agenda for their customary morning meeting.

Everson sorted the correspondence on the desk into four stacks: London business, estate business, society invitations, and personal. He reached for the London stack to begin going through it while Darcy started with the estate business and personal mail.

The estate correspondence included the business of Pemberley and his seven smaller estates. The London correspondence pertained to the running of the townhouse, legal matters from his attorneys, financial and banking letters, and his swelling industrial and trade investments.

This part of their morning meeting was always conducted in silence as the men read through the missives for anything that might require immediate action or a reply. Everson was experienced enough not to bother his employer with the more mundane issues.

Everson cleared his throat and said, "Sir, this is a proposal for the initial investment for the extension of the Wexley Road Docks." He handed the papers to Darcy. "Last year you were intent on working with Gardiner to investigate the viability of the project. What do you want to do now?"

Darcy sighed as he scanned the report. This was one area of business in which he was less confident in his own knowledge, and in the past, he had relied on the sound advice of Edward Gardiner in matters such as this. He had been introduced to the savvy businessman four years before, and they had enjoyed a profitable association ever since. Gardiner, though in trade, conducted himself like a gentleman and was honest to a fault. He and his wife, Madeline, were sophisticated and fashionable, and Darcy had considered them to be an estimable couple.

What a shock it had been to discover that Gardiner was the uncle in trade of his conniving wife, that Gardiner's sister was the crass Mrs. Bennet. After his wedding, Darcy had received a note from the man revealing the connection. Gardiner had stated that, due to the acrimony of the marriage, it would be best if they distance themselves. It had been agreed between them that ongoing investments would continue, but that all communication would be conducted through their representatives and not in person.

Darcy had felt the loss of the man's association acutely, especially at times like these. He sensed that the man was highly displeased with him concerning his treatment of his niece. Yet, even that man's disapprobation had not caused him to question his attitude toward his wife.

"Everson, perhaps we should ask my attorney to investigate the construction company involved. If we are unable to find good information on the project, we should probably table it."

Darcy shoved the regretful feelings aside and returned to the reading of his mail. Silence once again settled over the two men. The only sound for the next quarter hour was the hiss of the coals in the grate and the ticking of the bracket clock on the mantel.

However, the peace was quite spectacularly broken as Darcy suddenly swore loudly while simultaneously flinging his chair back against the wall as he stood and began to pace. His steward could only guess as to why his normally calm employer would have that kind of reaction.

He warily watched Darcy pace and run his fingers through his hair. He knew better than to presume to ask what had occurred, for the young gentleman guarded his privacy zealously.

Finally, Darcy turned to him. "Everson, I apologize. But a situation has arisen that I must address immediately. I will be out of town for several days. If you would, please go through the rest of the business correspondence in the next hour while I prepare for my journey. If you see anything dire, we can discuss it while the carriage is being loaded. Please pass off the social invitations to my secretary. He is in the library doing some research for me. Thank you for taking care of this." And with that, he marched from the room calling for the butler, the housekeeper, and his valet.

ppp

A few hours later, outside of army officers' quarters, Darcy waited impatiently in his carriage for his cousin, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam, younger brother to Viscount Worthington. It had been fortuitous that Richard had been on an extended home assignment at the army headquarters in London when Darcy had received the alarming letter from his wife.

While he had finished packing that morning, he had sent a message to his cousin requesting his support provided that he could get away from his duties. Fortunately, Richard had sent back a note saying that he would be ready to depart by noon.

Richard stepped into the carriage with his habitual smile. Clapping each other enthusiastically on their shoulders, they exchanged greetings.

"Darce, this is a pleasant surprise. I hope nothing is amiss. It is not like you to be gallivanting about the countryside on a whim. I was not sure how to pack or how many days to tell my commanding officer that I needed off. Be that as it may, I am glad to be of service, especially since you said it involves my favorite scoundrel, Wickham."

Darcy's smile of greeting faded to a look of disgust. "It is good to see you too, Richard, but this may prove to be anything but pleasant. You are aware that I installed that vixen who entrapped me into matrimony in a cottage at my Chilton estate just south of Farnham?" Richard nodded. "Well, read this letter that I received from her this morning. I should have gotten it earlier, but my man said that some mail delivery from that area had been delayed due to the unseasonable weather. Upon reading it, I prepared to set out directly."

Accepting the missive, the Colonel proceeded to read the note.

February 17, 1812

Chilton Cottage

Sir,

I write to bring a matter to your attention that has become concerning to me. About two weeks ago, a man with a gentlemanly appearance tried to force an introduction as I was on the street in Alton. He claimed to be a childhood friend of yours saying his name was George Wickham. I ignored him, and Mr. Morris, who serves as my escort, demanded that he desist.

However, over the course of the last three weeks, he has repeatedly tried to approach me in the village. In addition, he has attempted to call at the cottage. The servants have consistently denied him admittance stating quite firmly that I am not receiving male callers during your absence.

Despite the fact that Mr. Morris is in residence and provides a male presence, I feared that he might not be intimidating enough to deter troublesome callers, like Mr. Wickham. Therefore, I have hired a footman to provide additional security. The individual that I have hired is Theo Williams, nephew to Cook and well-known to Mrs. Morris, hence her recommendation. I am planning to pay the footman out of my pin money so there will be no impact on the household funds. He took up his position today, and I am hoping that this measure will be enough to discourage Mr. Wickham.

However, I wanted you to be aware of the situation in case you wished to take more decisive action.

Sincerely,

Elizabeth Darcy

Richard read the letter several times interspersing oaths and expletives with noises of outrage.

As they neared the turn-off to the southwest road out of London, the coachman stopped to pay the toll and then they were on their way. This diversion allowed the Colonel to regain his equilibrium.

Richard noted Darcy's furious expression. "Well, Darce. Your two worst problems have been brought together. I guess we should have known that George would sniff out the news of your nuptials."

"Richard, I do not know what to think. Is this just the same old thing where Wickham is trying to take advantage of the situation with the vixen or is she somehow involved with him? Has this been their plan all along?"

"It appears to me that Mrs. Darcy has handled the rascal with propriety and appears to have no prior knowledge of him. But you understand her better than I do, obviously." Richard considered the contents of the letter again. "Was Ramsgate the last time you crossed paths with him?"

Darcy's eyes narrowed at the mention of his sister's near elopement. "Yes. The last report from my informant was that Wickham spent the fall and winter in the seedier parts of London at the gaming tables, but he lost track of him sometime in January."

"That indicates to me that your wife probably had never encountered him before the last month. I can imagine his plan. First, he charms her, lies to her, seduces her, cuckolds you, then begins to demand money. He is a true opportunist."

"I still would not assume that she is innocent in all of this. She may have the appearance of the demure daughter of a country gentleman, but you should never underestimate her. She is very intelligent. I was shocked and dismayed that she would act with such cunning to carry out a compromise as she did against me. I have foiled many a determined debutante in the past, but she succeeded where others had failed." Darcy knocked his walking stick against the sole of his boot to further make his point.

"If that is her nature, you should have refused to marry her. I know that you feared that it would reflect poorly on Georgiana, but surely by the time she came out it would have all been forgotten."

Darcy vigorously shook his head, "No. After Ramsgate, I could not take the chance that Georgiana would not suffer. And besides, my own honor was at stake."

They both took a moment to reflect on the injustice of Darcy's marriage. Then, he pulled a stack of papers from his satchel and held them out toward Richard. "I am finally prepared to teach George some lessons on accountability."

A slow grin spread across the colonel's face as he leafed through the receipts in his hand. "I must correct you on your earlier statement, Darce. I am anticipating finding great pleasure in this little excursion. This must be close to five hundred pounds of debt."

"It is closer to one thousand pounds and enough to put Wickham away for a very long time."

"Music to my ears. I very much look forward to rounding up the wastrel and acquainting him with the local magistrate." They grinned in agreement and spent the rest of the drive planning their strategy

After arriving at Farnham, the two cousins met with the magistrate, having determined that he indeed had jurisdiction over Alton and Chilton. They obtained warrants and a letter of introduction from him to a Mr. Dunlop in Alton. Mr. Dunlop was the village blacksmith who acted as the local constable in the small village. He would be able to provide additional men if they required assistance in apprehending the miscreant. Darcy and the Colonel took a room at the local inn with the intention of traveling on to Alton in the morning.

Again, Darcy slept poorly. He did not want to admit even to himself that he dreaded encountering his bride. While at Pemberley or London, he could deny the contradictory feelings that were constantly simmering just under the surface of his anger toward Elizabeth Darcy: attraction, longing, hurt, disappointment, fury. His cousin, the Viscount, had hit very near the mark in the analysis that Darcy had refused to entertain. He had esteemed her before the compromise, but had been severely aggrieved when he had awoken to discover her perfidy. Not even Wickham's treachery against his sister had pained him as much as her betrayal.

Of course, he was always quick to transform those painful feelings to anger and resentment. Be that as it may, time and distance had mitigated some of his distress. He could go hours at a time without considering his disappointment.

But now, on the eve of being in her presence once again, he felt it, that hot, searing ache.