The Disappearance of Georgiana Darcy: A Pride and Prejudice Mystery (29 page)

On the very last day of the regiment's remaining in Meryton, he had dined with others of the officers at Longbourn, and so little was Miss Elizabeth disposed to part from him in good humor that, on his making some inquiry as to the manner in which her time had passed at Hunsford, she had mentioned the former Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr. Darcy as having spent three weeks at Rosings, and had asked him if he were acquainted with the colonel.

Displeased by her tone, Wickham had masked his surprise and alarm. With a moment's recollection and a returning smile of solicitude, he had falsely assured Miss Elizabeth of the then colonel's very gentlemanlike qualities and had forced himself to inquire of the lady's opinion of Darcy's cousin, a man Wickham had always despised.

With an air of indifference, but with true curiosity, he had asked, “How long did you say the colonel was at Rosings?”

“Nearly three weeks.”

Having sensed her possible defection, he asked cautiously. “And you saw him frequently?”

“Yes, almost every day.”

Her wry smile should have warned him of her intent, but he had overestimated his ability to bring about the lady's renewed regard. Hoping to regain Miss Elizabeth's goodwill, he had added his usual spill about Darcy's disposition. “His manners are very different from his cousin's.”

“Yes, very different. But I think Mr. Darcy improves upon acquaintance.”

Her sentiment had shocked him. “Indeed!” But he had checked himself before adding in a gayer tone, “Is it in address that he improves? Has he deigned to add aught of civility to his ordinary style? For dare I not hope,” he had continued, while adopting the conspiratorial tone that had proved acceptable to the lady on previous occasions, “that Darcy is improved in essentials.”

Elizabeth Bennet's next words had announced her withdrawal from Wickham's favor. “Oh, no! In essentials, I believe, Mr. Darcy is very much what he ever was.”

Scarcely knowing whether to rejoice over her words or to distrust their meaning, he had listened with an apprehensive and anxious attention while Miss Elizabeth had added, “When I said Mr. Darcy improved on acquaintance, I did not mean that either his mind or his manners were in a state of improvement; but that from knowing him better, his disposition was better understood.”

And now the lady is Mrs. Darcy
, he thought angrily, and the silence absorbed his contempt. Darcy had won Miss Elizabeth's hand and her heart, and he had settled for the lesser sister and a substantial
monetary payment. Of course, if he had known of Darcy's affection for Elizabeth Bennet, he would have held out for more money. “No further regrets,” he reproved. “We move forward from this time.”

He had spotted several antique pieces that he would take with him when he rode out tomorrow, but he had no plans to return to Alpin Hall afterwards. A horse with the best pedigree and a small satchel of expensive items would be his ticket. “No more service to country and King,” he declared as he punched the pillow to make it more pliable. “Once I have a stake, I will make a new future away from the Darcys and their continual disdain. They will one day say that they knew me when…”

Edward Fitzwilliam bedded down in an orchard. Some of the aristocracy would find his choice of accommodations abhorrent. He was an earl's son, after all. The “spare” for his brother Rowland. Yet, Edward had always preferred the outdoors and space to a crowded ballroom. It was the reason he had chosen the army over the navy when selecting his military calling. That and the fact that rough oceans made him seasick. “I would have made a deplorable captain in that respect,” he mumbled to his horse as he tied the stallion loosely to one of the bushes.

“Another day—maybe a day and a half,” he told the animal as he wiped down its coat. “Then you can rest, my friend, and I can bury myself in the sweet scent of jasmine. I have a beautiful wife, you know. A woman to quell the emptiness.” He patted the stallion's neck.

He unwrapped the bedding and stretched out under the stars. “At least, there is no rain. No mud. No knee-deep in blood,” he continued to talk to himself. “No dreams of the horror that was Waterloo. Only Georgie's beautiful countenance and her sweet
body. Heaven on Earth.” A smile spread across his face. “A lifetime of proving myself worthy of Georgiana's love,” He sighed deeply. “A sentence I will gladly serve.”

“Prisoners.” The word beat a staccato in her mind as she reentered the simple chamber with its obvious guard just outside the door. She had considered the idea that she was the MacBethans' prisoner, but somehow she had not previously mustered the panic that now filled her chest. “Prisoner,” she mouthed the word. The MacBethans continued to lock her in this small space. “It is obviously not a guest room.” She had observed several elaborate bedchambers during her house tour. With its plain furnishings, the room she occupied did not delineate her as an honored member of the household. What would happen if she refused to become Aulay's bride? Would the MacBethans return her to where the others were being held? And where was that exactly? Lord Wotherspoon had rushed toward the lower staircase when he had left her in Ronald's care. “What happens to the other prisoners?” she wondered aloud. “Are they tortured? Killed? Why are they here? What offense have they committed? And if I was one of them, what offense did I practice on the MacBethans to give them dominion over me?”

And there had to be more than one prisoner. The servant had specifically said, “One of the
prisoners
.” Her thoughts flooded the room. Could she escape? Could she assist the others? She needed to know exactly where she was being held. She could observe part of the estate's entrance from the room's small window. A better view of the grounds became paramount. If she escaped the MacBethans, could she find someone who would come to her aid? Usually, estates were several miles apart. Could she find a Good Samaritan before Lady Wotherspoon found her? The girl
held no doubt that the woman would hunt her down as if chasing a fox in the woods.

“I need more information,” she told herself as she paced the small open space. “What can I remember from my so-called sickroom stay?” she mused. The bandage on her wrist was an obvious reminder. Carefully, she unwrapped the cloth to examine the raw scrapes along the pale skin. “What could have caused these lacerations?” She gently touched the deepest cut, which had scabbed over. “I must remember why I felt gratitude for the kindness Lady Wotherspoon has shown me.” She rewrapped her wrist so no one would know that she had considered her injuries to result from anything but a simple fall.

“This shan't be easy,” she cautioned her rapidly beating pulse. “Lord Wotherspoon reminded me that I must settle my past before I accept the future his mother has designed for me. Yet, I must do so carefully without offending the woman. Domhnall MacBethan has sworn to protect me, but can I trust anyone in this house?”

“I have sent a message to Drouot House,” Elizabeth explained. “I expect Mrs. Bingley to issue an invitation for your family to join them as soon as she receives my letter. As Mr. Joseph and Mr. Darcy were to use Drouot as their base for their business dealings, the Bingleys shall be expecting your husband.”

Mary Joseph protested, “Yet, not as a man recovering from a gunshot wound.”

“Trust me, Mrs. Joseph,” Darcy countered, “Mrs. Bingley would be offended if you did not take shelter at Drouot House. My wife's sister has the kindest of hearts.”

“That means that Mrs. Bingley thought highly of Mr. Darcy long before I did,” Elizabeth teased. “Yet, my husband speaks the
truth. The Bingleys are two of the most obliging adults on this earth. My father has always contended that Jane and Mr. Bingley would do very well together because their tempers are by no means unlike. Mr. Bennet claimed that the Bingleys were each so complying that nothing would ever be resolved upon between them, and that they were so easy that every servant would cheat them and so generous that they would always exceed their income.”

Darcy chuckled. “I would call Mr. Bennet's a fair evaluation.”

Mary's lips twitched. “Mr. Joseph and I shall quash the urge to make the Bingleys our mark.”

“If you are tempted,” Darcy returned the smile, “keep in mind that Mrs. Darcy and I will follow you to Newton Stewart, and my wife and I are less inclined to be generous.”

“Did you hear that, Matthew?” Mary teased.

The clergyman sat propped against a stack of pillows. Someone had shaved him, and although he still appeared pale, a bit of color had returned to his cheeks. “I would say we have been duly warned, Wife. And we are very familiar with the Darcys of Pemberley's less than charitable natures,” he said jokingly. All four knew that if it had not been for the Darcys' generosity, the Josephs' son would have been born in a lowly stable and would have likely died. The couple owed them much more than could ever be repaid. Joseph extended his hand to Darcy. “Be safe, Sir. You and Mrs. Darcy are very important to the Joseph family. You will remain in our daily prayers.”

“Thank you.” Darcy nodded his understanding. He stood and reached for his hat and gloves. “Mrs. Darcy, we should be on the road.”

“Of course.” Elizabeth hugged Mary one last time. “Promise me you shall accept the Bingleys' hospitality.”

Mary returned the embrace. “I promise.”

Darcy handed her into the carriage. He had taken Bennet from Mrs. Prulock and had deposited his son in his wife's arms. Then he had assisted the wet nurse to a place beside Elizabeth. Traditionally, the nurse and Bennet would have followed in his small coach, but they would make do with the one carriage. He would welcome the nurse's presence if it meant having Bennet in close proximity. His son had brought him a peace that he could not explain to anyone who had never walked the floor with a colicky baby in order to allow his mate a few extra hours of sleep. He and Elizabeth had created this beautiful bundle of arms and legs and joy through their love. He placed his hat and gloves on the seat beside him. “I will hold Bennet,” he said softly.