The Darcy Cousins (34 page)

Georgiana, who was in the middle of some rather delicate ruffing, was reluctant to put it down. But a warning glance from her cousin prompted her to rise quickly.

"There must be something in that letter," said Robert. "I would dearly like to know what this old school friend of yours has to say."

"I am sure you would be very bored by it--I never knew you were interested in gossip."

Robert raised an eyebrow. "It depends on the gossip."

Caroline threw her a shrewd glance. "As long as it not from a gentleman, I am sure it will not be of any interest to us," she said calmly. "Cease this game of cat and mouse, Robert. Girls will be girls, after all."

Clarissa took this opportunity to leave the room, dragging Georgiana behind her. She practically ran up the stairs. Georgiana followed, trying to puzzle out who could have sent the letter. An idea sudden sprang to her mind.

"Do not tell me you have heard from Mr Parker?" she said, in an excited whisper.

"I wish," said Clarissa, her face crumpling. "Now that would be news worth having!"

"Then what--" Clarissa pulled her into the room and shut the door, leaning heavily against it.

"You will never guess who sent it."

"Of course I wil never guess," said Georgiana, who was tired of all this suspense. "Can you not tel me without making a big show of it?"

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Clarissa, who would have enjoyed tormenting her cousin, gave in reluctantly.

"If you insist, I suppose I must tell you." She took out the letter and held it out to Georgiana. "It is from your cousin."

"Colonel Fitzwilliam?"

"No, of course not!" Unable to keep the secret to herself any longer, she handed over the letter. "'Tis from Anne. Anne de Bourgh."

Georgiana stared at the letter, stunned.

"What does she say? Quick, let us read it."

"You may read it aloud," replied Clarissa. "It is addressed to the two of us."

Georgiana unfolded the letter nervously.

Dear Cousins,

I am sending you this letter to inform you that I have taken up a teaching position in a school, under the name of Mrs Williams. You may wonder that I took such a drastic step and that I should have aspired to such a lowly situation. I can assure you, however, that I have never been happier in my life.

I have wanted to write to you for some time now, to thank you for your kindness during your visit to Rosings.

It meant a great deal to me to have you to talk to.

I beg of you to keep this letter a secret and to conceal the information from everyone else. You know the consequences very well if anyone were to discover where I am.

However, if you could find some way to visit me some day at a future date, I would be glad to receive you. I am at Mrs Saunders's Academy for Girls in Richmond.

Annabelle Williams

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"Is that all she has to say?" said Georgiana, tossing the letter down in disgust. "When everyone has been consumed with anxiety about her? And she wishes us to keep it a secret? Does she not intend to inform even her mother?"

Clarissa nodded. "That was exactly what I thought when you first started reading the letter. But if you think about it, what choice does she have? If she informed Lady Catherine, do you think her ladyship would allow her only child--an heiress to a large fortune--to teach in a school? You know she would not."

"We have to tell my brother at least. He needs to know the truth, after all the effort he has been through to discover her whereabouts."

"It is better for him to think she is in Philadelphia. Then he will think her out of his reach," said Clarissa. "Besides, she has written to us in confidence. We cannot betray that confidence. It is a matter of honour."

"Honour is for gentlemen," said Georgiana, "not for us."

Clarissa threw her a disdainful look. "Perhaps, but I would not betray one of your secrets, not for anything. We may not use such grandiose names, but we have our own form of honour nevertheless."

"But to keep my brother in the dark--"

"I wish to God I had not shown you the letter, Georgiana! I did not think that you would give preference to your brother over a young woman who has asked for our help."

Georgiana closed her eyes. She too wished she had not seen the letter. She would have preferred not to have the burden of this knowledge, for what good was it to know the truth?

The more she thought of it, the more she grew disturbed by the whole situation. Why would Anne wish to become a teacher, when she had a fortune at her disposal? It did not make sense. And 311

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why had she booked a passage to Philadelphia, when she was not planning to go there at all?

Something was not right. Someone else was involved. Someone who had pretended to be Anne and booked the passage on the packet boat. Even now, for all they knew, Anne was being held under duress--perhaps even forced to get married. The letter was yet another ruse to convince them Anne was safe.

Georgiana had to know the truth. If she was really at this girls'

Academy, then good. But suppose she was not? They had to go and see her.

Surprisingly, her cousin was not convinced of this at all.

"You are going too far now, Georgiana. Your suppositions make no sense at all. You must admit that imagination is not your strong point. You have conjured up a convoluted story that will convince no one. Not even I think that she is being held under duress. I think she has provided us with a perfectly rational explanation."

"There is nothing rational about an heiress wishing to teach a school full of spoilt girls who have nothing in their heads but to make trouble. You have not been to a school here. I have. I know what they are like."

"I have been to a school in Boston. I imagine all schools for young ladies are very much the same. Tell me. Why would she not wish to teach? It is a noble profession."

"Perhaps. I do not mean to cast any aspersions on teaching. I just cannot imagine someone as delicately reared as Anne choosing to be at the beck and call of a mean, selfish brood of young ladies."

"You were at such a school, and I am sure you were not mean or selfish. In any case, it is unlikely she would be teaching the daughters of the affluent members of society. There would always be the 312

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risk of discovery in that. She must have chosen a charity school, and she may feel she is doing some good in the world by helping girls less fortunate than she is. It is not impossible." She looked at Georgiana's miserable face. "Not all people are content to be idle, Georgiana. My father left a life of idleness behind him when he went to the United States, and I can assure you he never regretted it."

Georgiana pondered over this for some time.

"I cannot help feeling uneasy."

"I have heard nothing else since I read you the letter, Georgiana.

I do not know how you can be harping on the same thing all the time when you have far more interesting things happening to you.

I have noticed Mr Gatley paying court to you. What do you intend to do about it? Do you plan to accept him if he proposes?"

The blood rushed to Georgiana's face. It was true that Mr Gatley had been particularly attentive.

"He has not proposed, so I do not wish to think about it yet," she replied, embarrassed. "But you need not think to distract me that way. It does not mean I should not be concerned about Anne."

"Very well, then," said Clarissa. "I can see that you will not be contented until you have discovered the truth about her. In that case, I have an idea. We will go to see her in Richmond. It will kill two birds with one stone. You can spend time with Mr Gatley, and at the same time, you can assure yourself of Anne's safety."

"But we cannot tell Mr Gatley about Anne."

"No, obviously not," replied Clarissa.

A few minutes of concentrated effort produced a plan. They would tell Mr Gatley that Clarissa had received a letter from a school friend of hers from Boston who had married an Englishman beneath her station and that she would like to see her, to be sure that she was faring well.

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"It is close enough to the truth, isn't it?"

Georgiana hesitated.

"I do not like this whole idea, Clarissa. We will have to lie, not only to our families, but to Mr Gatley as well. And what will Mr Gatley think?"

"He will not approve, but he will do it for your sake."

"But how will we contrive it?"

"Leave it to me. I will think of something."

One can always find plenty of reasons to do something one should not do. Georgiana, who knew very well that they were embarking on a foolhardy endeavour, soon convinced herself that there really was no harm in it at all. What could possibly go wrong, after all?

Thus they found themselves once again setting out without a chaperone. They could not bring a maid, for fear that she should reveal something about Anne's whereabouts. There could not be the smallest hint of a whisper to indicate that Anne was still in England. The presence of a groom, then, had to be sufficient.

So there they were, in carriage, in the company of a single gentleman. Mr Gatley had not quite approved of the arrangement and deemed it more proper to ride on top with the coachman. He had been led to believe that Clarissa was visiting an old school friend of hers who had married unwisely and of whom her family disapproved. Georgiana hoped the clear weather would hold and that he would not be obliged to ride outside in the rain.

It was a short trip in any case. By the end of the day, they would 314

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be back--having spoken to Anne and assured themselves of her safety--and no one would be any wiser.

But fate has a way of intervening just when one least wishes it.

In their case, fate took the form of a large but hidden pothole in the road.

The carriage lurched suddenly as the wheels teetered over the edge of gaping nothingness and slid into it. Clarissa was thrown roughly against Georgiana. For a few tense moments they were certain they would overturn.

They did not.

The carriage righted itself. The ladies disentangled themselves from each other, straightened the objects that had tumbled about with them, and returned to their places. They laughed in relief.

But instead of continuing along the way, the carriage remained obstinately still.

"What has happened?" said Clarissa, opening the door.

She instantly slammed the door shut again.

"What is it?" said Georgiana, alarmed.

"Don't look," said Clarissa, pushing her back into the carriage.

Georgiana turned deathly white. "Have we--? Did we run over someone?"

Clarissa cast her head back against the squabs and shut her eyes.

"Answer me!" repeated Georgiana.

Clarissa, who had now recovered from the initial shock, jumped up again. "We have to help him!" she said, urgently.

"Help whom?"

Clarissa was already out of the door.

Georgiana's heart thudded violently as she realised the truth.

She stumbled out of the carriage, terrified to have her worst fears confirmed.

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Gatley was lying in a muddy patch by the wayside. There was blood on his head, and he was unnaturally still.

She stood, staring helplessly at him.

"Is he--?"

The coachman and the groom were leaning over him. They looked up when they heard her.

"No need to worry, Miss Darcy," said the coachman. "He's alive. Though he's had a right knock on the head. Head wounds always look worse than they really are though."

Georgiana, weak with relief, drew closer. She crouched down next to him. Slowly, she ran her hand across his cheek. He was so unlike himself, so unmoving and pale.

Clarissa crouched next to her, and put her arm around her shoulder.

"If you don't mind, we'll carry him and lay him in the carriage,"

said the coachman.

His words brought to her the awareness that she ought to be in control of the situation. She stood up decisively. He was alive, and he needed help. That was the important thing now.

"Yes, yes," she said. "We should get him home as quickly as possible."

"If you don't mind, Miss Darcy, it might be better not to rattle him too much."

"Of course not," said Georgiana, pursing her lips together in thought. "I remember passing an inn not too long ago. It cannot be more than a few minutes down the road. We can take him there, and we can send for a physician."

"Yes, miss, The King's Arms," said the coachman.

Gatley did not recover consciousness, despite the inevitable commotion involved in being picked up by the groom and the 316

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coachman and deposited on the seat inside. In the shadows of the carriage, his pallor was all the more apparent. He was so inert, Georgiana put her ear to his chest half a dozen times to assure herself he was still breathing.

At The King's Arms, which she discovered with some relief to be a reputable-looking place, she requested a bedchamber and a private parlour. The innkeeper, a red-faced man called Ned, took in the situation at a glance and sent for a physician immediately.

The physician, Mr Blaine, had little to say. He bandaged the head wound and assured the young ladies when he returned to the private parlour that the wound itself was not worrisome.

"But we do not know what impact the blow may have had inside. Head wounds are not always predictable," said Mr Blaine.

"I shall return later to ascertain whether he has recovered consciousness. I have instructed the coachman to send for me immediately under certain circumstances--particularly if there is bleeding from the nose or ears. We shall have to wait and see."

Georgiana thanked the physician and instructed him to leave his particulars with the footman, who would arrange for payment later.

As soon as he departed, Georgiana turned to Clarissa, her brows knitted with worry.

"We cannot stay here, Clarissa. We need to leave as soon as possible." She twisted her fingers together. "I am consumed with worry, knowing we are alone at a public inn so close to London.