Henner, the older man suddenly visible through the thick bushes lining that portion of the curved path to the north. The irony of his innocent phrasing was not lost on either Darcy or Lady Underwood, her chuckle thankfully only audible to Darcy as she turned and smoothly hid behind the tree.
After that, convinced of her persistence and cunning, Darcy was extremely cautious. He angrily observed her false friendship with Elizabeth, who had no idea of her true nature or treachery as Darcy refused to allow her antics to invade their delightful holiday. He prayed that she would depart the inn, but each evening she was there in the salon, flirting and chatting. He strongly suspected that her claws had dug successfully into a couple of other gentlemen, noting oblique glances and touches, which sickened him, as one was a married man as well. Again, Darcy was not naive, but the activity revolted him nonetheless.
Fortunately he and Elizabeth were almost always together and alone, neither desiring to socialize overly. But three times in the past two days Darcy was forced to change direction or abruptly engage one of the other guests in conversation to avoid Lady Underwood accosting him. He surrounded himself with other gentlemen on their walks to the beach or the few manly pursuits that separated him from Elizabeth. He was exceedingly careful, but now it appeared as if his luck had run out. With his mind on other matters his caution was forgotten, and the early hour meant that the corridor was devoid of anyone and likely to stay that way.
“Mr. Darcy, what a pleasant surprise.” She wore a dressing gown and robe, her hair braided and hanging over one shoulder. She was a beautiful lady, no doubt, but also quite aware of her beauty and equally aware of the effect of her attractiveness on men, an effect she utilized as a spider did its web.
“Lady Underwood,” he replied with a proper bow and eyes diverted, already taking a step to the left to pass her. “Good morning. Excuse me.”
She moved as well, Darcy again forced to halt or bowl her over. “Your color is high this morning with vigor radiating. You are well, I can see.”
“I am very well, but in a hurry. Good day, my lady.”
“Oh, it shall be a good day indeed. I am very well also, Mr. Darcy. Improving by the moment, in fact. I heard your voice but waited until the servant left. I was beginning to doubt you would come to me. So much pleasure has been missed, but we shall rectify that, won't we?”
Darcy was stunned. Bold propositions he had seen, yes, but this transcended them all. For several seconds he was honestly speechless, staring at her lewd expression in frank amazement.
“Lady Underwood…”
“Yes, Mr. Darcy,” she interrupted, her voice very low as she stepped nearer and lay one hand on his arm. “No need for discussion or further hesitancy. You should not stand about in the hallways. You would not want your sweet wife to know of our activities.”
He jerked his arm violently away, supreme anger overcoming his surprise. “Lady Underwood, you are horribly mistaken. I am retrieving an item for my wife and merely passing by.”
He again sidestepped to walk around her, but she reached out with a steely grip to his wrist, halting him and moving even closer until touching his body with her breasts. Her whisper was husky but with a hint of menace, “Come, Mr. Darcy. Be reasonable. A man like you needs his urges satisfied and I am willing. There is no logic in resisting.”
Darcy's rage was monumental, only supplanted by his intense disgust. “Let me pass before I am forced to inflict harm upon you. You disgust me and I can assure you nothing will ever happen between us.”
“You would be wise to rethink your refusal. I am accustomed to getting what I want and will find a way to secure my wishes. I would rather Mrs. Darcy not be hurt. She is a dear girl and would be crushed to discover that her beloved spouse seduces unescorted, fragile women.”
Darcy's voice was icy, “I am warning you, leave Mrs. Darcy alone or the consequences will be extremely unpleasant. Now, unhand me instantly. A scene and subsequent scandal would not benefit either of us. Let us drop this unpleasant topic.”
“Now you are mistaken, sir. The topic is a very pleasant one, for both of us. Please do not necessitate me causing trouble for you. I do have some influence, but would rather our relationship be mutually satisfactory, and voluntary.”
Darcy was livid, face dark and rigid with an anger seldom experienced and rarely manifested toward an individual. Despite her bluster, Lady Underwood paled and instinctively released his arm and retreated a step. Darcy stiffened to his full height, towering over the petite woman as his entire body hardened with unmistakable menace. When he spoke, his voice was glacial, but terrifyingly composed and low.
“Listen very carefully, my lady. What you are asking will never happen. Furthermore, it is you who are unwise if you believe for one second you can threaten Darcy of Pemberley. I know who you are and know your reputation. I suggest you inquire of these 'influences' you state you have. You will discover the extreme error in your judgment regarding me and the power you think you have. I assure you that my power vastly transcends yours. In the meantime, stay away from me and from my wife, or it is I who will be causing the trouble. Are we clear?”
To her credit, Lady Underwood remained collected under her pallor, but her eyes were frightened and her voice faint. “Very clear, Mr. Darcy.”
Chapter Seven
Under the circumstances, darcy was thankful to find his wife in her bath. By the time they reunited for breakfast his anger was dimmed to a simmering irritation and well buried. His joy at seeing and touching his beautiful Elizabeth was genuine and purifying to his soul. Lady Underwood was not about as they descended, fortunately; the Darcys breaking their fast and leaving shortly thereafter for a day trip into Great Yarmouth.
Once tucked comfortably into the coach with windows open, Darcy inhaled deeply of the tangy air, twined fingers with Lizzy as she turned a brilliant smile his direction, and felt the final vestiges of his chagrin dissolve. Aside from the sheer elation found in the presence of his beloved wife, there was also the anticipated delight in today's outing.
Great Yarmouth, or Yarmouth as the locals referred, was one of the few North Sea–located towns famous as a seaside resort. It held this distinction since 1760, when one of England's first seaside bath houses utilizing the chill water of the ocean was constructed here. The narrow strip of flat, sandy dunes situated between the medieval walled Rows east of the River Yare and the pebbly beach bore the unusual name Denes. Unique in all of England, the Denes had for centuries served as a haven for cattle grazing, for fishermen to dry their nets, and for the community to relegate other unpleasant tasks, such as criminal hangings, from the citizens safe inside the thick walls. This remained the status quo until wise and greedy city entrepreneurs recognized the financial advantage to cashing in on the seabathing phenomena by expanding on the existing wells and building a bath house. The mile- long expanse of finely churned sandy beach coupled with the wide barrenness of the Denes created the ideal environment. Great Yarmouth's economy subsequently exploded. Herring and mackerel fishing would endure as a primary industry, but tourism boomed. The ancient jetty near the bath house was rebuilt and reinforced until eventually extending 456 feet out to sea, providing both a stupendous view and exhilarating sense of the open ocean.
It was to this pier that the Darcys headed first. Despite their early rising and vigorous exertions, several days of lying about inspired each of them to wish for a brisk walk and full day of entertainment. Mr. Anders deposited them by the pier with instructions to park near the north gate of Nicholas Church. The streets were busy with the combined traffic of Yarmouth's twenty thousand natives attending to their daily activities and the massive number of visitors. The popularity of Great Yarmouth as a resort had rather surprised Darcy upon his investigation. He had heard of the city, naturally, but was only vaguely aware of the particulars. Quite obviously, as they crept snail-like through the streets, hundreds of English tourists were abundantly conscious of Yarmouth's charms.
The harbor and pier was clogged with fishing boats of all sizes replete with clamoring fishermen and straining nets of fish. The smell would have been overpowering if not for the constant easterly breeze capturing the wafting odors and transporting them far to sea. Nonetheless, it was unpleasant at times. Lizzy, as well as most of the women meandering about and a good number of the men, kept a perfumed handkerchief close in hand. Happily, the stench waned the farther one walked down the jetty. Darcy kept a firm grip to Lizzy's elbow as they walked the
