The Disappearance of Georgiana Darcy: A Pride and Prejudice Mystery (56 page)

Georgiana blushed, and she fanned her face despite the cool evening. With another giggle, she said, “I suspect your words to hold some truth.”

Elizabeth climbed in the carriage beside Georgiana. She squeezed closer to permit Jacks room to drive the gig. “Let us escort you
home,” she said as she slid her arm about Georgiana's shoulders. “We have been without you too long.”

Edward could not eliminate the silly smile from his face. Georgiana was to give him a child. Someone who would love him and to whom he would devote his life.
When?
he wondered. As he traversed the moonlit road, he calculated the date when he might expect to know the pleasure of saying the words “my family.” He and Georgiana had only known each other as husband and wife for less than a week prior to his deportment to the Continent. He counted forward from those days. As he estimated his child's delivery, he realized that his wife must be between four and five months. “If so,” he said to himself, “then we should expect our child close to Christmastide.”
His family.
The words ricocheted through his body.

A child for Christmas. Sharing the festive days with the birthday of our Lord.
Only last Christmas, he had returned to Pemberley, broken-spirited, his desire to go on nearly at an end, but then Georgiana had given him hope. How long had he gone without hope? The question had lingered as he tried to make sense of what was happening between him and the girl whose scrapes and bruises he had once tended. With a secret waltz in a shadowy study and a kiss under the mistletoe, she had become his whole existence.

He looked up to see Alpin's gatehouse coming into view. He glanced to Georgiana, slumped against Elizabeth's shoulder. The day Fitzwilliam Darcy had brought Elizabeth Bennet into their lives, his cousin had given Georgiana a future. His wife had needed a confidante. He had told the earl so when his father had questioned Edward regarding Darcy's choice of a wife. Now, he looked on the woman's quiet strength with new admiration. Using pure female intuition, Elizabeth had found Georgiana when the rest of them had
failed miserably, and the lady had rushed to protect his wife from Lieutenant Wickham. If he had not already held Elizabeth Darcy in the highest esteem, he certainly would now.

“Cannibalism!” Elizabeth gasped. “In Scotland? In the British Empire?” She and Darcy dressed for the evening. Upon their return to the manor house, Edward had ordered a bath for Georgiana and had sent for a surgeon to attend her. Darcy had placed Wickham in the root cellar with a footman standing guard. They would have the surgeon tend the man's injuries once he had seen to Georgiana's. Elizabeth did not inquire as to what her husband would do about his long-time enemy. She trusted Darcy to come to a just decision. “Cannibalism!” she repeated in disbelief.

“Not in the strictest sense of the word—not as Christopher Columbus meant during his explorations around Hispaniola,” Darcy assured. “Lady Wotherspoon did not serve her captives to her guests. Yet, she did share the bodies with her brother Oliver McCullough, who is the local butcher. I am quite certain that people will be speaking of these atrocities for some time.” He paused in his explanation to stare into the late evening fire in the hearth. After several minutes of quiet anguish, her husband said matter-of-factly, “Edward has seen too much devastation. My cousin efficiently dispensed with those protecting Lady Wotherspoon's secrets, but the look in his eyes spoke of how the insensibility of the situation affected him. Edward has been at war for too long. I am concerned for Georgiana's sake.”

Elizabeth slid her arms about Darcy's waist from behind. “The Major General requires your sister's presence in his life. Without her, Edward would continue to suffer. Only with Georgiana will your cousin manage to leave the desolation behind.”

“Do you truly believe so?” He turned in her embrace to wrap his arms about her.

Elizabeth rested her cheek on his chest. The steady beat of her husband's heart spoke of a man of principles. A man who placed his family above duty and wealth. “Implicitly. Edward will thrive because of Georgiana's love.”

“As I do under your watch.” He kissed the top of Elizabeth's head.

For long telling moments, they clung to one another. Finally, Elizabeth eased from his embrace. “We have responsibilities yet to see to tonight, Mr. Darcy. I wish to visit with our sleeping child and tell him of my love. Afterwards, I desperately wish to spend four and twenty hours wrapped in your arms.” She lifted her chin for his kiss.

“Make it eight and forty,” Darcy countered. He touched his lips to hers.

The tenderness of the moment tugged at Elizabeth's heart. Not a kiss of overwhelming passion, but one of infinite devotion. “Fitzwilliam,” she murmured as his lips lingered above hers.

“Yes, my love,” he said with a grin.

“I have something of which we must speak,” she began softly. “But…there never seemed to be the right moment.”

Darcy frowned. “The right moment for what?”

“For this.” Elizabeth kissed each of Darcy's knuckles; then she turned his wrist to place a feathery kiss to his lifeline before she guided his hand down the length of her body to rest on her abdomen. During the exchange, her eyes remained locked on his. She had seen his curiosity when her lips met his clenched hand, had noted the tenderness when her mouth grazed his palm, had gloried in the desire as his fingertips skimmed her body, and had known the instant that the realization of her news registered in her husband's consciousness.

Gently, he touched the place where his child grew within her. “Lizzy?” he whispered.

“It is true.” Elizabeth had expected him to lift her into his arms. She had not expected her strong, virile husband to sink to his knees before her. His hands cupped her buttocks, and he pulled her closer. Darcy kissed his wife where the child lay, and despite the folds of her gown, Elizabeth could feel the warmth of his mouth against her skin. Her body reacted as it always did to his touch. He pulled her closer still; yet, this time it was he who rested his cheek against her. Darcy closed his eyes in a silent prayer. Elizabeth stroked his head. “You are happy with the news?”

Still on his knees, Darcy leaned back to look up to her. “Elizabeth Bennet Darcy, you are by far the smartest decision I ever made. You have brought me, Georgiana, and Pemberley, the greatest happiness. I remain on my knees before you in reverence to your goodness.”

Elizabeth dropped to her knees also. “I have never desired your reverence, Fitzwilliam. Treat me as you have always done: as a woman you protect, but also as a woman that you have chosen as your partner in life. There is nowhere else on earth I would prefer to be than in your arms.”

“You are everything, Elizabeth.” Darcy caressed her cheek. “My world.”

“A world large enough for me, Bennet, and this little one?” she teased.

Darcy grinned as he assisted her to her feet. “A world large enough for you and all our children.” He lifted her chin with his fingertips. “When?”

“Mid-February.”

“A new year brings us a new beginning.”

“IN TRUTH, MR. DARCY, I know not how to proceed.” They had had but four hours sleep before the magistrate had arrived on Alpin Hall's doorstep. Before retiring the previous evening, they had heard the full of Georgiana's tale, had permitted the surgeon to set her ankle with a proper cast, had tended to Lieutenant Wickham, and had decided among the three of them what version of the truth they would tell the authorities. They would speak of what could not be easily dismissed, given the word of an earl's son and that of a respected English couple as corroboration.

Elizabeth had spoken her reasons for Darcy to demonstrate kindness to Lieutenant Wickham, but she assured him that no matter his choice, she would support his decision. With the utter chaos surrounding them, Darcy had not given the disposition of his foe's future his full attention, but he had agreed to move Wickham to a smaller servant room, one without windows, for the man's recuperative period. He had placed a guard inside the room and another without. Lieutenant Wickham's part in the adventure would not be made known to the authorities until Darcy came to a decision regarding the man's fate.

“That is understandable,” Darcy responded. “It is an unusual situation. Perhaps it might be advisable to seek the aid of someone with more experience in criminal cases.” He had quickly assessed the magistrate's lack of sophistication. “Besides requiring justice for the victims, you will wish to curb idle curiosity. The circumstances will play out poorly in the newspapers, and the area will suffer.”

Mr. LeEvans nodded his agreement. “It be a great shame for the shire. I will send to Edinburgh at once.”

Edward cautioned, “Keep the investigation as private as possible. The fewer people who know of it, the better.”

Darcy had taken note of how his cousin had permitted the deference that the Alpin staff and the magistrate had given Darcy. He suspected Edward felt uncomfortable in the role of a country gentleman. Give his cousin a group of men to lead, and the Major General excelled. The events of last evening had proven that. Edward had spent a generation away from the responsibilities of being an earl's son, and Darcy realized that if his cousin were to be successful in this new realm, he would need to begin immediately. Georgiana's future happiness depended on it. “As Mrs. Darcy and I will tarry at Alpin only long enough to assure my sister's recovery from her separate ordeal, I suggest you actively involve the Major General in your query. He has an extensive background in questioning enemy prisoners. I am certain his skills could be of use.”

Mr. LeEvans looked with admiration upon Edward, and Darcy took great satisfaction in seeing his cousin sit a bit taller. “I be proud to have such a distinguished officer guiding us.”

Edward sat forward. “What else did you learn from Normanna's men?”

“Not much from those who followed Lady Wotherspoon, but the woman's youngest son be more cooperative,” the magistrate said with satisfaction. “Aulay MacBethan be tellin' us where his mother and uncle be dumpin' the bodies. Not likely we be findin' any remains, but I will examine the spot meself. The bog already has a reputation of sorts. Some say ghosts be seen walking about there. It makes sense if Aulay's tale be true.”

“Why would this man tell you anything of his mother's activities?” Edward inquired.

The magistrate explained, “Aulay be a man in stature, but he has a simple mind. When he viewed his mother bein' restrained, he spoke to us of his fear.” The magistrate ran his finger under his collar in a nervous gesture. “I beg yer pardon, Gentlemen, but I must ast ye what ye know of Lord Wotherspoon? Yer men say nothin' of Normanna's laird, but some of Lady Wotherspoon's men say Normanna's master knew of what happened below stairs.”

“Wotherspoon was an associate during his stay in England,” Darcy lied baldly. “We were of a bowing acquaintance, and when he heard that my cousin and I had come to Scotland to search for my sister, Lord Wotherspoon sent word, seeking a meeting.” Darcy paused to sip his tea. He knew from business dealings to provide enough details to prove his point, but not so many as to sabotage the truth of what he offered. The pause gave the appearance of being relaxed.

“In her last benevolent act, Lady Wotherspoon had rescued a young woman, and Normanna's master wanted to assure himself that the lady in question was not my cousin's wife. Wotherspoon had developed a
tendre
for the lady, but she had suffered an injury and could not recall her past.”

“Was the lady one of Lady Wotherspoon's captives?” The magistrate made notes on a folded piece of paper.