Williams, set out to pay a call on the laird.
Darcy came prepared, and shortly after introductions were made, he suggested to MacGregor that there was no misunderstanding so great that it could not be resolved over a jar of whisky, and Mercer produced two glasses and a bottle of Scotch.
Because of heavy taxes imposed on the distilleries by the Board of Excise, most of the whisky produced in Scotland was illegally made, and Darcy, like most visitors and residents of Scotland, knew someone who could procure a few bottles of the spirits for the right price. A believer in free enterprise and minimal taxes on commodities, Darcy supported a private distillery near Jedburgh.
“I was in Scotland last summer in the company of a gentleman who had a private reserve of some spirits that are, shall we say, locally distilled, and he presented me with a few bottles to take home. This is the last of it,” Darcy said as he poured the amber liquid into the glasses, and before the last drop splashed into the glass, MacGregor’s hand was reaching for it.
“Mr. Williams, I am honored ta have such a fine gentleman in ma home,” MacGregor began, “and it’s unfortunate how ye came ta be here. There be no hard feelings on ma part, but as I telt Underhill tame and tame again, if he’d get rid a those big black dogs of his, ma servants wouldn’t be havering aboot seein’ wolves on tha property.”
“That is good advice, sir. However, being partial to black dogs myself, I understand why Underhill wishes to keep them, but I will agree with you that they can look like wolves, which is probably part of their attraction.”
“I dunna want ta give anybody tha wrong idea that I’m claimin’ to be injured in ane way,” MacGregor continued. When he had seen the expensive carriage with its matched pair of black stallions pull up to the front entrance, he had checked his shirt to see if there was any food left on it from the morning meal, and although he knew nothing about Mr. Williams, he recognized a gentleman when he saw one. The laird assumed that the crazed boy must be the son of someone important if his kin had sent a man of such quality to recover him, and he did not want to have some high and mighty from the South making his life miserable because their son had taken to crawling around on all fours on his property.
“But ’tis an odd business aw the same,” MacGregor continued. “Aroon here, we’re nat used ta someone loupin’ naked in tha woods in freezing weather. We hae more sense than to do somethin’ like that, and when tha laddie come into the house, I had ta put him in front a tha fire a’cause he was chilled to tha bone. Thomas, his man, took me aside and said that tha man was cracked,” he said, tapping his temple. “I could tell by the way he blethered that he were a gentleman, but I didnae believe him for a minute when he said his da was a prince. But, I’ll tell ye, he really thinks he
“Don’t we all,” Darcy said, and MacGregor thought that was so funny, he nearly choked on his drink.
“Another thing. Tha laddie knew he done wrong and was goin’ to be skelped for it ’cause he started wailin’ and sayin’ tha he was goin’ to be sent to Amerikay near the Hudson which, if I got my bearin’s reet, is where the ships make port ta drop their wares in the city of New York. Now, I’ve n’er been ta Amerikay, sir, but the way he wa’ carryin’ ain, you’d think he was bein’ sent ta tha North Pole. It cannae be that bad a place.”
“As Thomas indicated, the gentleman suffers from a mental impairment,” Darcy explained. “He has difficulty distinguishing between what is real and what is not. However, he has concerned parents who would be embarrassed if this episode became known. But I can see that you are a gentleman, someone I can rely on to be discreet and to keep this unfortunate situation quiet, and I would appreciate it if you would discourage any discussion by the locals.”
“Ye hae ma word, sir. Yon gentleman’s man, Thomas, gae us good reasons for tha poor laddie’s behavior. Anyway, that storm has passed by. Tha excise man comin’ in ta the glen frae the Sooth a looking fur mountain tay an’ breakin’ up stills is what everyane’s blethering aboot. Takin’ oor whisky is more important ta us than some lunatic runnin’ aboot naked.”
Darcy bristled at MacGregor’s use of the word “lunatic.” Yes, the moon did have its effects, but it did not make men run mad. After refilling the laird’s glass, Darcy offered MacGregor some monetary compensation for the inconvenience caused by the young man.
Now in his cups, MacGregor declined any remuneration, but after Darcy continued to insist, the Scotsman took the notes spread before him, and Darcy left hoping that the government excise men would linger a while in the glen—anything to get people to stop talking about Rupert “loupin’ aboot naked in the woods.”
While Darcy had been inside the house soothing ruffled feathers, Metcalf, the coachman, had been removing every speck of dust from the carriage. A member of the Metcalf family had been driving carriages for Darcys for three generations, and it was Metcalf who had transported the she wolf and her pups from Northumberland, first to Pemberley and then to a port on the Irish Sea, a journey that could have proved disastrous if the wagon had broken down. Along with Mercer, a retired mail coach driver, Darcy relied on these men to get him to Pemberley or some other safe destination before the rising of the full moon. Neither man had ever disappointed him.
They had made the journey from Pemberley to the Underhill estate in five days—a day ahead of schedule. But that gain soon fell away because of Rupert, who was carrying on in such a manner that the only way to get him into a carriage to go to Durham, where members of the Council were waiting for him, was to tie him up, and that Darcy would not do. After sending an express rider to Durham with a letter explaining that they must come and get the bad apple, they waited, day after day, until the two Council representatives arrived. Because Darcy had no wish to witness his removal, Mercer and he had departed that same afternoon, but without Teddy.
In order to help calm the young miscreant, Teddy had offered to go with the Council men as far as Durham. That alone had served to calm the young man, but Teddy also told Rupert stories of his own sojourn in the far north of the North American continent. Because his appetite was second only to Nell’s, when Rupert heard of the excellent hunting afforded by vast caribou herds and moose and the easy pickings of thousands of migratory birds and their eggs, his spirits picked up considerably, and he became more compliant. There were other inducements as well. Teddy spoke of the freedom of running over great snow-covered expanses and how he and his party had been invited into the homes of the natives, whose belief system included animals transfiguring into men, and because of that, the tension and danger of nightfall and daybreak were absent.
But while they waited, with the clock ticking away the hours, Darcy’s attention turned to Elizabeth, and with a bottle of Jedburgh Scotch on the table next to him and David and Goliath at his heels, he reexamined his options. Yes, he loved her, more than he ever thought possible, but the reality was that he was a werewolf and she was a human. The situation with Rupert had served to demonstrate how vulnerable a population werewolves were. One wayward comment could end in disaster for the entire lupine community.
Even if there were no idiots like Rupert, there was still the physical transformation that took place every four weeks, and such thoughts caused Darcy to sink back into his chair. Of course, he would rather not be a werewolf, but he had accepted it from the beginning. And there were advantages to being a lupine. Although he relished the thrill of the hunt and roaming through the diverse landscapes of his property and the Peak, nothing compared to his time in North America. Because he had been tested mentally and physically by its harsh elements, when he had returned to England, he was confident in his abilities in both his incarnations. But with his adventure now behind him, he had decided it was time to choose a wife from among the she wolf population so that he might marry and raise a family. He had it all planned out until…
Darcy had arrived at Netherfield Park the very day of the assembly. It had been a mere two days since daybreak, and he had told Bingley that he was in no humor to go to a local dance. With his sense of smell still in a heightened state, the mixture of scents—most of them emanating from unwashed bodies with an added layer of perfume to disguise the odors—was unpleasant to say the least, but Charles would not be put off. Once they had arrived at the assembly, Bingley continued to press his friend, insisting that he dance. The result was that he had stated in a voice loud enough to be heard by others that “to dance at an assembly such as this would be insupportable.” Worse yet, he had specifically singled Elizabeth out as being merely tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt him to dance.
He was genuinely ashamed when he realized that Elizabeth had heard his remark, and when he turned around to gauge the effect of his rudeness, she had looked right at him and had actually smiled at his surliness. In that moment, he had felt a tug at his heart, but he needed to know more about the lady. So he had listened in on her conversations at Lucas Lodge and had found her to be an engaging conversationalist as well as someone who spoke with authority on a number of substantive topics. When she had called him out for his eavesdropping, he did not care because he had heard what he needed to hear. Added to all her charms and sparkling wit was a smile that
