Pride and Prescience

Seven

Elizabeth slept late the next morning, Caroline Parrish’s escapade having kept her awake much longer into the night than she generally retired. She awoke to find Darcy standing before the mirror, tying his cravat. He had already dispatched a servant to the Gardiners’ house with a note informing Georgiana of their delayed departure.

“What did you tell her?” She sipped her chocolate in bed, a post-nuptial addition to her morning routine that Mrs. Hale had introduced and to which she had readily become accustomed.

“That we found Mrs. Parrish wandering the streets in a scandalous manner last night, and remain in London to circulate gossip.”

She nearly dropped her cup before realizing he jested. As much as she delighted in their banter, it was usually she who initiated its more preposterous turns. “I trust you also included details of the duel you nearly fought with that ruffian, not to mention Mr. Parrish’s account of the couple’s sleeping arrangements?”

“In the postscript.” Having achieved a passable trone d’amour with the neckcloth, he abandoned the mirror and came to lean against the bedpost. “I thought Mr. Parrish’s intelligence in particular the very thing for a young lady to read before breakfast.”

She set aside the cup. “You blushed to hear Mr. Parrish speak of it.”

“A good many individuals who purport to be genteel talk too openly about affairs that should remain private.”

She sighed dramatically. “Then I suppose I should withdraw the notice I sent to the Times announcing the reason we arrived late for last night’s curtain.”

“No, let it run. I am sure the ton will be fascinated by how long it took you to dress your own hair.”

She gasped in mock outrage and tossed a pillow in his direction. “Take the blame for that upon yourself.” Her hair had been perfectly arranged when she gave Lucy the night off.

He caught the missile and returned her mischievous grin. “With pleasure.”

They arrived at the Parrish townhouse sometime later to find Caroline gone out and her husband struggling to suppress his irritation.

“Riding, of all things! When she ought to be resting after last night’s episode!” Mr. Parrish practically flew about the drawing room in agitation. “I left the house for only an hour — to consult the apothecary for a draught to help her sleep more peacefully tonight — and when I returned she’d accepted an invitation to go riding and already departed. Not in a carriage, mind you. On horseback!”

Despite his incensed tones, Elizabeth understood that deep concern for Caroline’s welfare fueled the exclamations.

“She’s a good horsewoman, but she was in such a state last night…,” Parrish continued more calmly. “Thankfully, she took my most docile mare.”

“Mrs. Parrish is indeed an accomplished rider,” Darcy assured him. “I have seen her handle a horse many times. A trot down Rotten Row won’t tax her abilities.”

“The airing may even do her good,” Elizabeth offered.

“Let us hope so, though I still cannot fathom her motive for accepting such an impulsive invitation. I don’t even know with whom she rides — an ‘old childhood friend,’ she told my man on her way out the door.”

“All the better,” Elizabeth said. “Time spent in the comfort of familiar company cannot help but soothe her nerves.”

Some of the tension seemed to leave Parrish’s face. “I pray that you are right. But here you are come to call on us instead of at last departing for your own home, and I utterly forget my duties as a host. May I offer you some refreshment?”

A sudden commotion in the entrance hall prevented any reply. The three of them hurried to the staircase. Below, two footmen were assisting Caroline into the house.

“Unhand me! I can walk by myself!” she insisted, even as she leaned heavily on their arms for support. Her bonnet was askew and set far back on her head, as if a sudden storm had tried to blow it off. Several locks of hair had sprung free of their usually meticulous arrangement and hung unevenly at the sides of her face.

“Good God!” Parrish hurried down the stairs, Darcy and Elizabeth not far behind. “What’s happened now?”

“Her horse bolted, sir,” said the footman on Caroline’s left.

“I can speak for myself, too!” She angrily shook free of his grasp. “Get out of here before I dismiss you for insolence!”

The servant looked from wife to husband. Parrish took Caroline’s arm in his own. “Thank you for assisting Mrs. Parrish, Thomas. I will speak with you later. You, too, John.”

At his master’s command, the other footman, older and stouter than the first, released his hold on Caroline but lingered close until it was certain that Parrish’s support was enough to keep her on her feet. Darcy took a few steps forward, but Mrs. Parrish indeed seemed capable of standing for herself.

As the servants departed, all realized two additional people stood crowded in the vestibule — Juliet Kendall and a maid. Miss Kendall appeared exceedingly uncomfortable, as if trying to shrink herself so as not to take up any more space in Parrish’s house than necessary.

Surprise, panic, and irritation flashed across Parrish’s face in rapid succession. “What the devil are you doing here?” he growled.

She flinched and took a step back. “I merely wished to assure myself that Caroline got home safely.”

His expression darkened. “You? You were the ‘friend’ who invited my wife to go riding? What was your purpose?”

Elizabeth dearly wanted to learn the answer to that very question herself, but doubted Parrish’s tone would elicit a full explanation. He looked as if, were his wife not leaning on him for support, he would have lunged across the room to throttle his former sweetheart.

“I wanted to wish her joy in her new marriage.”

“I’ll bet. And did you express this sentiment before or after you spooked her horse?”

Juliet paled at Parrish’s accusation. “I did nothing of the sort! Hecate bolted all by herself — I have no idea why.” She backed up another step, bringing herself against the door. Her maid stepped in front of her as if to physically shield her from the force of his anger.

“Get out of my house,” Parrish hissed. “Whatever your previous relationship with Caroline may have been, your history with me renders further association between you inappropriate. As of this moment, my wife has dropped her acquaintance with you.”

Miss Kendall left without another word. Parrish closed the door behind her. “I beg your forgiveness for that display,” he said to the Darcys. He seemed more himself again. The flush receded from his face; both his countenance and his voice returned to their usual pleasing natures. “Her sudden appearance here — her desire to court my wife’s friendship — it’s not just awkward but suspicious.”

Elizabeth silently concurred. The last time she’d seen Juliet Kendall, the woman hardly appeared disposed to wish the new Mrs. Parrish joy. She wondered at the jilted Juliet’s real motive for suggesting the outing.

Caroline had been uncharacteristically silent during the exchange. She now sagged against her husband, apparently having forgotten her earlier insistence that she required no one’s aid. Parrish and Darcy helped her up the stairs and into the drawing room, where she sank into the chair nearest the door. She removed her errant hat but appeared unconcerned by the state of her hair.

“You should retire to your room,” Parrish said.

She started to nod, then seemed to change her mind. “No, I think I’ll just stay here awhile.”

“Surely you at least want to freshen your toilette?”

Again, she seemed on the verge of assenting to her husband’s suggestion, then resisted. “And ignore our guests? Whatever will the Darcys think, now that they have become such frequent visitors?” Despite the words, Elizabeth could detect no sarcasm in her tone.

“We are concerned for your well-being,” Darcy said. “Are you recovered from this morning’s excitement?”

“Yes. It was an alarming ride, but I managed to hold on until one of the servants overtook me and got the horse under control.”

“Do you know why it bolted?” Elizabeth asked. Not much of an equestrian herself, she thought this seemed unusual behavior for an allegedly docile mare.

Caroline shook her head. “One minute I was leaning over a bit to hear something Miss Kendall was saying, and the next I was flying through the park.”

“My dear, you needn’t talk about this now,” Parrish said. “Are you sure you don’t care to rest?”

Elizabeth sensed they had overstayed their welcome, and a glance at her husband revealed that he was of like mind. They took their leave of the Parrishes, who let the butler show them out. As they donned their mantles, one of the servants who had accompanied Caroline passed through the entrance hall.

“A word with you?” Though voiced as a question, Darcy’s manner made it a command.

“Yes, sir?”

“I understand you saw Mrs. Parrish’s horse bolt this morning?”

“I did, sir.”

“Have you any idea what agitated the animal?”

“No, sir. I had a pretty good view, too — the ladies had told me and Miss Kendall’s maid to drop behind some while they talked. They had the horses walking real slow so they could ride close to each other. Then of a sudden, Hecate just took off like someone stuck a needle in her.”

“Was there any movement on the part of either lady that could have startled the horses?”

The footman thought for a moment, then shook his head. “They were just riding along. Mrs. Parrish leaned toward Miss Kendall, like she wanted to hear better, but it wasn’t a quick shift.”

Elizabeth, though she could visualize the scene, couldn’t fathom the topic of conversation between Caroline and Juliet. What an interesting tête-à-tête that must have been!

“Do you know what they were talking about?” she asked. It was an intrusive question, one she would hesitate to ask Caroline directly. But Juliet’s solicitation of Caroline’s company surely related to the riding mishap somehow. To believe otherwise was to trust too much in coincidence, particularly in light of Juliet’s bitterness the last time Elizabeth had seen her.

The footman’s eyes grew wide at Elizabeth’s query. “Oh, no, madam — I would never eavesdrop on Mrs. Parrish!”

“I would never suggest that you might,” she reassured him. “But sometimes servants do overhear things even when trying not to. If perhaps that were the case, it surely couldn’t be held against you. We seek only to protect Mrs. Parrish from any sort of future incident.”

“As I said, madam, the ladies were fifty yards or so ahead of me, and they had their heads together pretty close. I couldn’t have listened to their conversation if I tried.”

“Did the two of them seem cordial toward each other?”

“Mrs. Parrish, she seemed more reserved than usual at first. But Miss Kendall appeared very kindly disposed.”

“At any point in the outing, did you see Miss Kendall touch Mrs. Parrish’s mare?”

“She arrived at the park on horseback and never dismounted. The lady did compliment Hecate — called her a beautiful mare — and stroked the horse’s mane. But she held her own reins the whole time they rode together.”

“What about Miss Kendall’s maid?” Darcy asked. “Was she ever near the horse?”

“No, she hung back with me.”

“Has Hecate ever done this before?”

The servant shook his head. “She’s as tame a mount as you’ll ever find. Mrs. Parrish has ridden her a few times and never had any trouble with her ’afore. She did seem a bit skittish this morning, but Mrs. Parrish, she’s a fine rider and had her well in hand. Just don’t know what happened.”

They dismissed the servant and went outside to their waiting coach. The footman’s description of the meeting puzzled her. She’d hardly describe Juliet’s attitude toward Caroline as “kindly disposed” a mere week ago when she’d vowed to see Frederick’s new wife unhappy. What had been her true motive for the outing? Had Miss Kendall in fact caused the horse to bolt in hopes that an accident would ensue?

“What do you make of these events?” she asked Darcy as he handed her into the vehicle.

“A freak occurrence. While I can’t account for Miss Kendall’s interest in meeting with Mrs. Parrish, I think the horse must have been startled by a small animal or something. It does not take much to spook some horses. I do find it surprising that the servant had to check the mare, as Bingley’s sister definitely knows how to handle a mount, but perhaps the animal resisted the commands of an unfamiliar rider.”

“I’m not so sure.” She settled into her seat, suppressing a shiver as she drew her cloak more tightly around her shoulders. Unbidden, the memory of Lady Chatfield’s tea-stained tablecloth flashed across her mind. “Will you require the carriage any more this afternoon?”

“It is yours if you want it.” He sat down beside her and drew her toward his warmth. “Where do you plan to go?”

“I think it’s time I called upon Miss Kendall.”