What Would Lizzy Bennet Do? (31 page)

‘His name is Billy, and he
did
do it. He climbed the
Pemberley
’s mast; I caught him red-handed and chased him down earlier this morning. I remembered it on the way to see the committee. He’s been living on the
Rosings
, evidently, and Mac’s been looking after him.’

‘Mac?’ Lord Darcy echoed. ‘Why on earth is
he
looking after the boy? Mac knows a great deal about sailing, but absolutely nothing about raising a child.’

Lady Sarah leaned forward and tried again. ‘Who is your mummy, darling? Can you tell us that?’

He lifted his face and eyed her. Then he shook his head.

‘You can’t tell us, or you won’t? And why ever not? Don’t you know who your mother is?’

But he stubbornly refused to say anything more.

‘It’s obvious that the only person who can tell us who this boy is,’ Hugh told his brother, ‘is Mac.’

Harry made an impatient gesture. ‘Do you think I haven’t already tried? Mac said he was sorry, but he’s not at liberty to share information about Billy beyond his name. He was adamant.’

‘Let me try.’ Holly smiled and leant down to meet the child’s wary gaze. ‘Hi, Billy. I’m Holly,’ she said softly. ‘Do you like living on the
Rosings
? I bet it’s fun.’

He nodded.

‘It’s a beautiful ship, isn’t it? Have you lived there long?’

‘No, only for a bit. I like Mac,’ he added. ‘
He’s
nice.’ He looked daggers at Harry.

‘Does your mum know you’re staying on the boat?’

Again, he nodded. ‘She came to see me yesterday.’

‘That must’ve been nice. I bet she’s very pretty.’

‘She is,’ he agreed, proudly.

‘What’s her name?’ Holly asked. ‘I might know her.’

He hesitated. ‘I’m not supposed to say.’

‘Oh,’ Holly assured him, ‘you can tell me. It’ll be our little secret.’

Again, he wavered, as if deciding whether to tell her or not. ‘It’s Immy,’ he said after a moment.

‘Immy?’ Lady Darcy repeated, bewildered. ‘Who is that? Does she live nearby…?’

‘He means Imogen.’ Holly smiled at Billy reassuringly and straightened. ‘Lady de Byrne’s daughter. She’s staying at Rosings.’

‘But that makes no sense,’ Hugh said, frowning. ‘If the boy is hers, why isn’t he at Rosings, or with his father? Why’s he staying on the yacht with Mac?’

‘That,’ Harry said grimly, ‘is a very good question. And it’s one I intend to get answered, and straight away. Maybe then,’ he added as he reached behind him to grip Billy’s shoulder, ‘we can get to the bottom of all this.’

***

The front door to Rosings swung open a short time later.

‘This way, please, sir,’ Banks told Harry and his family. ‘Lady de Byrne is expecting you.’

‘Please, come in,’ Lady Georgina said as the butler showed them all into the drawing room. Her eyes widened as she caught sight of the boy. ‘And who, pray tell, is this handsome young lad?’

But Billy was struck mute at the sight of so imposing a woman, and hid once again behind Harry’s legs.

‘This is Billy,’ Harry told her, and gently but firmly drew the little boy forward, his hands resting on Billy’s shoulders. ‘We have good reason to believe that he’s…’

‘
Billy
?’

They all looked up as Imogen, her face white with shock, appeared in the doorway.

‘Mummy!’ he exclaimed, and pushed past Harry to catapult himself into her arms.

Lady de Byrne had gone as pale as her daughter. ‘What is the meaning of this?’ she demanded, shaken. Her eyes, filled with confusion, darted from Imogen to Billy and back again. ‘Did I – did I hear correctly? Did that child just call you “mummy”?’

Imogen nodded and buried her face in her son’s hair as she held him. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Yes, Billy’s my son.’ She held him tightly, protectively, as if afraid someone might try to snatch him away.

‘I… I don’t understand.’ Lady Georgina’s hand rose to her throat. ‘I feel a bit – faint. I need to sit down.’

‘Here, let me help you,’ Hugh offered, and assisted her onto the sofa. ‘You’ve gone pale. Shall I get you some water?’

She shook her head. ‘No, I’m fine. Please don’t fuss. It’s just the shock of learning I have a… a grandson.’ She pronounced the word in wonderment, as if she couldn’t quite believe it. ‘My daughter has a son.’

‘It’s a lot to take in,’ Lady Darcy murmured, and sat next to her and patted her knee in sympathy.

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ Lady Georgina demanded, and leaned forward to glare at Imogen. ‘The boy is, what – eight years old…? And in all that time, you never thought to mention you had a child?’

‘He’s seven, and no, I didn’t tell you.’ She glanced at everyone and added tersely, ‘Can we not do this here, please? This is a private matter.’

‘No.’ Her mother’s answer was sharp. ‘We’ll do it here, and we’ll do it now.’

‘Very well.’ Imogen kissed the top of Billy’s head and set him gently down. ‘I’ve an idea, love.’ She glanced over at the butler. ‘Why don’t you go along with Banks for a bit? He’ll fetch you some custard creams and milk,’ she promised, ‘and we grown-ups can talk.’

‘And Hobnobs?’ the boy said, and eyed Banks with a hopeful expression.

‘And Hobnobs. I know where cook keeps all the best biscuits.’ Banks held out a gloved hand, and after a moment’s hesitation, Billy took it, and they made their way together to the kitchen.

‘I didn’t tell you, Mother,’ Imogen said as she shut the doors after them and turned around, ‘because I didn’t want you to know.’

‘Why on earth not?’ Lady de Byrne cried. ‘That boy is my grandson!’

‘I was… afraid.’

‘Afraid? Of what, exactly? I don’t understand.’ Lady Georgina’s eyes widened. ‘Who is the child’s father? He’s not Simon’s, then?’

‘No.’ She sank down into a chair. ‘Simon made it clear he wanted no part of him. That’s why I made – other arrangements. Billy’s the product of a passing fling. A one-night stand,’ she added bitterly.

She remembered the nightclub in Shoreditch, the rough brick walls and watered-down drinks, the pounding house music, and later, a fumbling, drunken hook-up with a journalist she’d met, a writer for the the
Guardian
. Or so he’d claimed at the time.

‘I never loved Billy’s father,’ Imogen said now. ‘I barely knew him. It was a meaningless fling, nothing more. I didn’t think you’d want him in your life. I didn’t think he’d fit in, any more than I ever had. I thought he was better kept as a secret.
My
secret.’

‘How dare you.’ Lady de Byrne surged to her feet. ‘You kept my grandson, my flesh and blood, from me for seven years, and for what possible reason? To punish me?’

‘No.’ Imogen’s words were charged with fury. ‘I did it to keep him away from
you
, mother – from your constant, unrelenting judgement. Nothing I ever did was good enough. I wanted to protect him from your bitterness, and your perfectionism, and your all-consuming selfishness.’

‘What do you mean?’ Lady Georgina demanded. ‘You had the best of everything, you impertinent, ungrateful girl! The finest education, the best clothes, that outrageously expensive finishing school in Switzerland – you never wanted for anything.’

‘What about your affection? Your attention? Your
time
?’ She began, quietly, to weep. ‘I craved those things… desperately. But I never got them. And eventually, I realised I never would.’

Lady de Byrne stared at her. ‘I did the best I could for you after your father died.’

‘No, you didn’t. You retreated into your grief and your bitterness, and you never spared a thought for me. You stuck me away in boarding schools and finishing school, and left me to spend my holidays alone, or if I was lucky with a classmate who felt sorry for me and invited me to come home with her. Why should I believe you’d treat my son any differently?’ She fumbled in her pocket for a crumpled tissue and dried her eyes. ‘I came home thinking –
hoping
– that you’d changed, that we could make peace and make it work between us. But you’re still the same cold, indifferent mother you always were.’

‘You’re wrong,’ her mother began, and sank back, stricken, onto the sofa. ‘You don’t understand. I couldn’t cope with you, after your father died; my grief prevented it. But I
loved
you, Imogen, I did…’

‘I’m going upstairs to pack my things,’ Imogen said as she stood up, ‘and then I’m getting Billy. We’ll be gone from Rosings in an hour’s time and we shan’t trouble you again. Goodbye, Mother.’

With that, she turned away and opened the doors, and left the drawing room.

Chapter 37

Lady Georgina surged to her feet and strode after her daughter, her eyes bright with anger and her mouth set in a grim line.

‘You are
not
taking that boy away!’ she called up the stairs. ‘I’ve only just found out he’s my grandson, and I will not be denied his presence in my life for one minute longer. You’ve robbed me of seven years as it is.’

‘You have no legal claim on my son,’ Imogen pointed out evenly, ‘nor any responsibility for his care or well-being – or mine. Goodbye, Mother.’ And she turned from her position halfway up the stairs to march back up to her room.

‘Ladies, ladies – what on earth’s going on out here?’

Holly, along with the others standing uncertainly in the entrance hall, looked up to see a man in a track suit join Imogen at the top of the stairs – it was her visitor from London, Oliver Slade.

Although he wore an amiable expression, she saw the wariness in his eyes as he glanced from Lady de Byrne to her daughter.

‘It’s none of your concern, Ollie,’ Imogen said, and moved to brush past him.

He caught her arm. ‘I couldn’t help but overhear. All this bloody shouting,’ he pointed out, and smiled apologetically down at Lady de Byrne. ‘I’m just on my way out for a run and wondered what all the fuss was about.’

‘Stay out of it,’ Imogen snapped, and pulled free of his arm. ‘I told you, it’s none of your business.’

But he wouldn’t be deterred. ‘If it’s about the kid… let him stay, Immy. Why d’you want to drag him off somewhere, away from his gram, and his family? Besides,’ he added, and his expression hardened, ‘Simon’s thrown you out. You told me so yourself. Where will you go? What’ll you do?’

‘I’ll figure it out.’

‘Leave Billy here while you do,’ Oliver said. ‘Don’t put the kid through any more than you already have. Go if you have to, but leave him with his grandmother.’

‘Why do you care what I do?’ she challenged him. ‘This has nothing to do with you.
Nothing
.’

His expression hardened. ‘Maybe not. But when I was a kid I was dragged from one crap bedsit to another until I was thirteen, and I know firsthand that starting over in a new place stinks. Don’t do that to Billy. Give him a bit of stability, at least.’ He paused. ‘Please.’

‘Please,’ Lady Georgina echoed. She cast him a brief but grateful glance.

For one, tense moment, Holly and Hugh and his family waited, all of them watching Imogen as they waited for her answer.

‘Very well,’ she said abruptly, and looked first at Oliver, then at her mother. ‘I’ll leave him here until I can arrange something else. I’ll send for him later.’

Her mother let out a breath of profound relief. ‘That’s very sensible,’ she agreed. ‘Billy can stay at Rosings with me for as long as he likes – until you can make other arrangements. I’ll see that the room next to yours is made up for him at once.’

‘Thank you.’ She turned away.

‘Imogen, wait.’ Lady Georgina hesitated. ‘I wish you would stay as well. You can view properties and deal with letting agents as easily here as elsewhere, and remain with your son in comfort at the same time.’

Imogen didn’t answer, but descended the stairs and came to stand before Lady de Byrne. ‘All right, Mother. You’ll get your wish – we’ll stay, for now. But I’m making no promises, and I
will
be looking to move elsewhere at the earliest opportunity. Now, if you’ll excuse me…’ she nodded curtly at everyone. ‘I’ll just go and tell Billy that we’re staying.’

***

‘What do you make of it all?’ Holly asked Hugh as they returned to Cleremont that evening and made their way upstairs. ‘I can’t imagine having a child and keeping it from my mum. I can’t keep
anything
from her.’

‘That’s because the two of you have a close relationship,’ he pointed out. ‘Not everyone’s so lucky.’

‘No, I suppose not.’ She hesitated as they arrived at his bedroom door. ‘What was your mum like, Hugh, growing up? Was she – well, you know – was she very
motherly
?’

He considered. ‘She had her moments. But no, like Lady de Byrne, my mother busied herself with committees and church rotas and the rigorous demands of keeping Cleremont running smoothly. Harry and I were sent away to school, and so we didn’t see much of her, growing up. But we neither of us felt unloved. We understood that that’s how it had to be.’

‘Poor darling,’ she said, and leaned forward to kiss him. ‘I have an image of you as a little boy, standing by the front door with a suitcase at your feet and a teddy bear in your arms, waiting to be shipped off to school.’

He smiled. ‘No teddy bear. God, I’d have been laughed out of school for that.’

‘No doubt.’

‘Well… goodnight, Holly.’ He kissed her again, and turned to go.

‘Hugh… wait.’ She caught his hand and regarded him uncertainly. ‘I miss you. We’ve scarcely had a moment alone since we got here. Do you think that we might…?’ She blushed, and lowered her voice. ‘Spend the night together?’

He hesitated. ‘You know how much I’d like to, Holly, truly, but…’ He stopped as his mother and father came up the stairs, the low murmur of their voices preceding them. ‘But I don’t think it’s a good idea at present.’

And so saying, he brushed his lips against hers and went in his room, and gently shut the door.

***

Holly passed Lord and Lady Darcy in the hallway and managed a nod and a polite goodnight, then returned to her room. As she shut the door and turned the lock, her humiliation warred with anger. She couldn’t believe Hugh had turned her down.

You know how much I’d like that, Holly. But I don’t think it’s a good idea at present.