used your influence to send George to the wars in the Peninsula, left me to exist as best I could on a captain’s pay, for you refused to help me! I am your wife’s sister!” Another of those awful wails. “Oh, my George, my George! Dead in America, his bones in some grave I will never see! You fucking bastard, Darcy!
Charlie had moved, but Elizabeth detained him. “No, let her say it all, Charlie. She has already said far too much. Try to stop her now, and we’ll have a fight on our hands.”
“I was so happy when he survived the Peninsular wars, my George! But that wasn’t enough for you Darcy, was it? He was supposed to die in Spain, and he didn’t. So you used your influence to send him to America! I saw him for less than a week between those two awful campaigns-now he’s dead, and you can rejoice! Well, not for long! I know things about you, Darcy, and I am very much alive!”
Suddenly she collapsed. Elizabeth and Charlie went to her, helped her to her feet and out of the room.
“Heavens above, what a performance,” said Caroline Bingley. “Where does your sister-in-law pick up her vocabulary, Fitz?”
That reminded the Duchess, Mrs. Speaker and Posy of the words Lydia had used; the three of them fell to the floor.
“I imagine,” said Fitz in a level voice after the ladies had been taken to their rooms, “that the covers are considerably reduced for the rest of what has been a memorable meal.”
“Un-for-gettable,” said Miss Bingley on a purr.
Angus chose to ignore all of it. “Well, I for one refuse to forgo the turbot,” he said, determinedly cheerful.
Charlie came back looking very concerned, as Owen noted. “I bring Mama’s apologies, Pater,” he said to his father. “She’s putting Aunt Lydia to bed.”
“Thank you, Charlie. Do you stay to finish dinner?”
“Yes, sir.”
He sat down, secretly feeling desperately sorry for his father. There was no excusing Lydia’s conduct-oh, why did that nasty piece of work Caroline Bingley have to be present? The scene would be all over London the moment she returned there.
The Bishop of London was dissecting the etymology of obscenities for Owen’s benefit, and welcomed Charlie’s participation.
“Do you know the poetry of Catullus?” the Bishop asked.
Charlie’s face lit up.
Having returned with his cartload of fish and crustacea, Ned Skinner was at home, and reported to Fitz in his parliamentary library as soon as the rather shattered guests had gone to their various suites.
“What possessed Parmenter and his minions to let her get as far as the dining room?” Ned asked.
“Fright. Apprehension. A reluctance to lay hands on the sister of their mistress, whom they love dearly,” said Fitz with scrupulous fairness. “Besides, I imagine they had no idea what would happen in the dining room-she saved her choicest verbiage for my guests, the bitch. And she was drunk.”
“Is it true? Is George Wickham dead?”
“The letter says so, and it’s signed by his colonel.”
“A pity then that she didn’t go to America with him. She would undoubtedly have battened on to some colonial yokel and remained there. It baffles me why she’s not poxed.”
“It baffles me why she’s never had children,” Fitz said.
“Well, she doesn’t fall easily, but when she does, she knows where to go to get rid of it. She’s never sure who the father is.”
Fitz grimaced. “Disgusting. As to why she didn’t go with him to America, she was involved with his colonel at the time the regiment was shipped, and the fellow was desperate to shed her.”
“Aye, she’s a difficulty wherever she is.”
“That’s putting it mildly, Ned.” Fitz beat his fists on his thighs, an angry and frustrated tattoo. “Oh, what an audience! And I with the prime ministership all but in my pocket! Derbyshire had promised to deliver the Lords, and the Commons has been inclined my way for a year now. The assassination of Spencer Perceval still reverberates, thanks to the Marquis of Wellesley, running everything. Oh, rot the woman!”
“Miss Bingley will spread tonight’s tale far and wide.”
“Anything to get back at Elizabeth-and me.”
“And what of Sinclair? Will the
“He’s a good friend, so I’ll hazard a guess that he’ll not put my private troubles in his paper.”
“What exactly do you fear, Fitz?”
“More scenes of this nature, especially in London.”
“She wouldn’t dare!”
“I think she would dare anything. The booze has addled what few wits she ever had, and I feature in her mind as the chief villain. While ever she looks like something the cat dragged in, people will spurn her as crazed, but what if she cleans herself up, dresses respectably? As my wife’s sister, she could manage to secure an audience with some powerful enemies.”
“Saying what, Fitz? That you conspired to have her husband sent overseas to do his military duty? It won’t wash.”
Out came one shapely white hand to rest on Ned’s sleeve. “Ah, Ned, what would I do without you? You demolish my fears with plain good sense. You are right. I will simply dismiss her as a madwoman.”
“You’d best put her in a decent house. Line its walls with bottles, have a few men on hand to fuck her, and she’ll give you no trouble. Though,” Ned added, “I’d make sure she has what in Sheffield they’d call a minder. Someone strong enough to control her, persuade her not to go to London, for instance. I think comfort, clothes, men and booze will keep Lydia happy.”
“Whereabouts? I sold Shelby Manor, though it’s too close to London. Nearer here, yes?” Fitz asked.
“I know a place the other side of Leek. It housed a lunatic, so it should suit. And Spottiswoode can locate a minder.”
“Then I may leave it to you?”
“Of course, Fitz.”
The fire was dying; Fitz stacked it with wood. “Now it only remains to persuade my wife not to give her shelter for too long. Can you move quickly?”
“Depending upon Spottiswoode, I can be ready in five days.”
Two glasses of port were forthcoming. “I repeat, Ned, that you are my saving grace. When you walked in tonight, I was almost on the verge of echoing Henry the Second’s cry about Thomas а Becket-‘Will no one rid me of this meddlesome priest?’ Substituting wench for priest.”
“Things are never as bad as they seem, Fitz.”
“What of the other sister?”
Ned scowled. “A different kettle of fish entirely. At first it was easy. She went from Hertford to Stevenage, thence to Biggleswade, Huntingdon, Stamford and Grantham. There, it seems she decided to head west to Nottingham. I traced her that far, and lost her.”
“Don’t worry, Fitz, she can’t go far without being noticed, she’s too pretty. I think she intended to take the stage-coach to Derby, but it left without her. The only other coach that morning was to Sheffield via Mansfield. It may be that she changed her mind about her destination-Sheffield instead of Manchester.”
“I don’t believe that for a moment. Sheffield has always been a manufacturing town-Sheffield steel and silver cutlery. Its practices are set in stone.”
Grinning, Ned wriggled his brows expressively. “Then, knowing her, she got on the wrong coach. In which case, we will see her emerge either in Derby or Chesterfield.”
“Have you time to look for her?”
“Fear not, yes. The house for Lydia is called Hemmings, and I’ll have your solicitors deal with it. Leek isn’t far from Derby.”
It took a long time to calm Lydia down and persuade her that what she most needed was sleep. Elizabeth and Hoskins stripped her of her indecent apparel and put her into a bronze bath tub by the fire, there to wash her
