GEORGIANA (Pride & Prejudice continued... Book 3)

by Sue Barr

  “Thank you, Anna.”

  Anna closed the door and Georgiana went into the small sitting room attached to her bed chamber. The fire was low, but the room was comfortable enough she didn’t require a robe over her nightgown. She sat in one of the wingback chairs and picked up the letter she’d received from Mary Bennet that afternoon. She’d been so busy getting ready for the ball she’d had no time to read the chatty letter. Anna would be at least a half hour before she returned, so this was as good a time as any to catch up on news from Longbourn.

  Lizzy has written that she and Jane are both in Town along with Kitty, and you all had a most successful curtsy before her Majesty. I am so relieved Papa didn’t make me join you, even though Mama pouted a bit when I stayed firm in my decision. I have no intention of ever marrying, and even if I did, when would I be in the midst of high society? No. I think I shall be a most favored aunt who spoils her nieces and nephews most atrociously.

  Mama seems tired of late. I think all this excitement has finally worn her down. Granted, she’s more involved with the tenants now that Lizzy and Jane are no longer here, and she’s quite busy in the still room making soaps and candles with Hill. I dearly miss Kitty’s lavender sachets. Little did we realize how much each sister contributed to the running of Longbourn. The hallways and rooms of our humble abode seem quite empty these days.

  When not busy in the garden, or helping Mama write down our expenditures in her journal, I spend my time reading and have begun learning the new music which you so graciously sent last month. Mozart is my latest favorite composer. I marvel at his talent.

  How I miss playing duets with you, dear Georgiana and look forward to this fall when my Aunt and Uncle Gardiner take me with them on their annual pilgrimage to Derbyshire. Even my young cousins shall attend this year. Prepare for epic sea battles with my nephews on the lake so fortuitously situated near the house and delightfully elegant tea parties with my nieces. That is, unless you do something outrageous, like fall in love and marry−

  An unfamiliar cracking noise outside had Georgiana lay the letter down. She crossed to the window and drew back the curtain, hoping an animal had not become trapped on the balcony.

  Although the moon partially illuminated the yard, she saw nothing, but then there was movement in the tree which loomed over the balcony. About to scream, she caught her breath when a large tabby cat landed on the balcony, spotted her through the glass door and arched its back and hissed.

  “You frightened me, mangy old cat,” she said with a shaky laugh. “No more bits of chicken and ham if this is how you thank me.”

  The cat turned its back and padded to the edge of the balcony, nimbly leaped back onto the tree and melted into the darkness. Georgiana dropped the sheer curtain which hung over the door and moved to her bedroom. She slid beneath the covers of her bed and a large yawn stretched through her as she waited for Anna to return.

  ~~~~~

  The letter from Max’s steward painted a grim picture. One of his tenants claimed a neighbor killed his prize cow. From there, they’d proceeded to fisticuffs with death threats being bandied about. Max knew both men and for the life of him couldn’t understand how things had escalated to such outlandish proportions.

  He made the decision to leave immediately and cover as much ground as he could without falling asleep in the saddle. He and his men would take a few hours to rest at one of the many posting inns dotted on London Road and be in Yorkshire by early evening the next day. The ancient grandfather clock struck half hour after one as he and his outriders cantered through the quiet streets of London on their way to Adborough Hall.

  ~~~~~

  The soft light from the inn was a welcome sight. After four hours in the saddle, Max craved a warm bed and good food. He instructed one of his armed outriders to ride ahead and secure a suite of rooms.

  “Almost there, Pericles.” He soothed his mount and the proud beast tossed back his head in reply. “I’ll make certain there are enough oats to fill your belly, my lad.”

  He urged Pericles forward to meet his returning outrider, James.

  “There’s plenty of room, Your Grace,” his man said. “I didn’t tell him who you were; only that you were a gentleman of means needing a room for the night. He also has rooms above the stables for the men.”

  “Let us get on then.”

  Within minutes, he and his men dismounted in a warm spacious barn. Even though he was a Duke, he still stripped off Pericles’ saddle and brushed him down. His horse cared not one jot that he was a nobleman and Max enjoyed taking care of the ornery beast. Assured there were enough oats for all the horses, he turned to leave the barn.

  After confirming their departure time with James, he entered the Waddling Duck, greeted by a portly man with the largest mustache he’d ever seen. Brown eyes that looked like berries twinkled at him.

  “We’re honored to have you here, sir.” He gave Max a small bow. “I’m the owner, Mr. Barrows.”

  “I do not require much beyond a room for a few hours, unless your cook has anything left over for a small meal for me and my men.”

  “Aye, she made up a large pot last night. Told her we’d have to throw it all out, she’d made so much.” He chuckled as he fetched a room key. “Then my Betsy said – if you’re married, you’d know the tone – ‘The good Lord told me to make this stew,’ and that was the end of the argument. Good thing she did. Another gentleman checked in not five minutes before you arrived, but he took his meal to his room. I know there’s more than enough for you and your men.”

  “Excellent.” Max had to smile as the older man chattered. “I will have my meal now, and then attend my room. Would you be so kind as to knock on my door at nine o’clock? I need to be on the road by ten at the latest.”

  “T’will be my pleasure, sir.”

  Mr. Barrows hurried off and Max made his way to the private dining room. In a few minutes, a young girl, bearing a remarkable resemblance to the rotund inn keeper entered the room carrying a huge bowl of aromatic stew and a small loaf of bread. She set them down and returned with a mug of ale.

  “Will there be anything else, sir?”

  “No, this is quite satisfactory.”

  “Yes, sir.” She curtsied and hurried from the room.

  After thanking the Lord for his meal and safe journey he dug into the stew, grateful it tasted as good as it smelled. A half hour later, pleasantly sated, he made his way to his room on the second floor and almost groaned at the sight of the bed. He’d been awake for almost twenty-four hours and it was only sheer will-power that drove him to place one foot in front of the other.

  He’d removed his cravat and pulled his shirt from his breeches when he heard a woman cry out. The sound came from the room below. He waited a few seconds and hearing nothing more, started to remove his shirt. A scream pierced the air.

  Without thought that his shirt was undone and loose about his hips, he strode from the room and in less than a minute stood outside the door to the room below his. Sounds of a struggle, although muffled, filtered through the door.

  Disgust arose in his chest. He had no idea who occupied the room, or whether it was the man’s wife or a woman from the village in the room with him, but by the sound of it, she wasn’t a willing companion. The thought of any man forcing himself upon a woman, married or not, made his stomach turn and with one well-placed kick he booted open the door.

  The sight before him was chaotic. All the bedclothes were scattered about the room, as though someone had jumped on the bed, or scrambled across it to evade. A woman cowered on the floor beside the bed and a man clad only in his breeches, his back to the door, held her ankle in his left hand, his right had raised above his head as though to strike. The woman’s nightgown, twisted around slender thighs, had risen enough to reveal several bruises and one deep cut on her creamy skin.

  “Unhand that woman!” Max bellowed.

  The man turned and Max was stunned to see it was none other than Sir Reginald S
lade, who whirled around and after a momentary hesitation swung his fist at Max’s face. Max feinted to the right, then ducked and tackled Slade around the waist, thankful that years of wrestling with two younger brothers gave him a decided edge.

  The momentum of their collision carried them onto the bed, which collapsed beneath their combined weight. A brief struggle ensued, ending when Max managed to punch Sir Reginald solidly on his chin, who fell back onto the mattress, his body limp. Assured Slade would not come around any time soon, Max turned and kneeled beside the woman, her face obscured behind a tangled curtain of dark golden curls.

  “You will not be harmed.” Hesitantly, he touched her shoulder, not wanting to frighten her further. “Lend me your hand; I will take you to safety.”

  The woman finally raised her tear stained face and his heart stuttered to a stop.

  “Miss Darcy!”

  Chapter Seven

  A noise from behind snapped Maxwell out of his shock. Mr. Barrows stood within the door frame, his cheerful face now twisted into a mixture of worry and anger. In his beefy hand, he held a club of some sort.

  “I don’t allow this kind of behavior in my inn—” he growled, lifting the club in a threatening gesture.

  “Mr. Barrows, this lady needs care.” Max snatched a blanket off the bed and draped it around Georgiana’s shoulders. No one else needed to see the state she was in. “Have someone attend the stables and request one of my men to come here to guard Sir Reginald.”

  “Who are you to give me orders? For all I know, you’re in on this with him,” Mr. Barrows sputtered in anger.

  Max rose to his feet, Georgiana in his arms, and towered over the man.

  “I am the Duke of Adborough.” Mr. Barrows blanched at the mention of his title. “I have nothing to do with this sordid piece of humanity other than saving the lady from his clutches.”

  The innkeeper lowered the club and gave him a quick bow.

  Max continued. “Would you ask your daughter bring some salve and warm water to my room. This lady requires attention.”

  “Right away, Your Grace.”

  Max hurried upstairs, distressed by the small whimpers Georgiana tried to hide by pressing her face into his chest. He immediately placed her in a chair and without thought pulled back the blanket to assess if her wounds were dire. At her gasp, he realized how inappropriate his actions were and quickly threw the blanket back over her legs.

  “Forgive me, Miss Darcy. I was so worried about you I wasn’t thinking straight.”

  “N... n… not to worry, Your Grace.” She choked back another sob. “I was trying… I was… t…t…t…trying…”

  She burst into tears.

  Max fell to his knees and society be damned, placed his arms around her slender shoulders and pulled her against his chest. “Hush. You are safe. He cannot hurt you now.”

  “I know.” He felt her head nod in time with her statement. “Th…” She drew in a shuddering breath. “Thank you.”

  “Can you tell me what happened?”

  He felt her head shake in the negative against his chest and heard a stammered whisper. “N.. n… not right now.”

  “Shh…., you are safe now. Mr. Barrows is sending his daughter with salve to soothe the injury to your leg.”

  A long shudder rippled through her slim body and Max drew her close to his chest, his mind whirling with the ramifications of what transpired. If the inn keeper was a discretionary soul, he would not spread the gossip further than the four walls of this room. However, Slade was an entirely different ball of wax. His main purpose in this heinous act was to force Miss Darcy into marriage for her substantial dowry, and he alone might engage in slanderous gossip to achieve that goal.

  Max looked down at the tangle of curls against his chest. How long had he dreamed of holding Georgiana in this manner? There was no way he’d allow Slade to triumph. He’d planned on courting her in a slow, gentle manner and that course of action had been brutally demolished. As soon as he could get word to Darcy, he’d apply for a Special License and he and Georgiana would marry as quickly as possible.

  There’d be some whispers, but over time everything would be forgotten in the wake of yet another society scandal. As the granddaughter of an Earl along with being the Duchess of Adborough, no one would ever cut her direct. He’d make sure of it.

  ~~~~~

  In the midst of showing his wife how much he adored her shapely curves, Darcy cursed at the firm knock on their bedchamber door. However, knowing his valet would not disturb them for anything other than an emergency he quit the bed, donned his robe and opened the door to a visibly upset Hutchins. To see his normally unflappable butler in a state of agitation sent an icy chill along his spine.

  “I am sorry to disturb, sir, but Anna has brought distressing news.”

  Darcy stepped out into the hall, giving Elizabeth time to set herself to rights.

  “What has happened? Where is Anna?”

  “She is in Miss Darcy’s bedchamber.” Hutchins squared his shoulders. “Miss Darcy is missing.”

  “Missing? As in not her room, or as in not in the house.”

  “Not in the house, sir.”

  By now, Lizzy had come out of their bedchamber, tightening the belt of her robe around her waist, luscious curls of hair cascading over one shoulder.

  “What is going on, Fitz?”

  “Georgiana is missing.”

  “Oh no!” Lizzy rushed down the hall to Georgiana’s room, followed closely by Darcy. Anna stood by the fireplace, her face a picture of worry. Other than the bedclothes strewn about the floor in an untidy heap, nothing was out of place.

  Darcy almost ran to the adjoining sitting room and immediately noted the balcony doors were wide open, the curtains swaying in the gentle breeze. A thick rope, tied to the largest pillar, dangled over the rail, pooling into a small puddle on the ground.

  He gripped the balustrade and cursed.

  “Fitz, come here.”

  Darcy re-entered Georgiana’s bedroom and Lizzy handed him a smaller rope.

  “I found this on the floor.”

  “They must have used this to tie her up and then lowered her over the railing. Like an animal.” Whoever did this to his sister would pay and pay dearly.

  “Do you think they took her for ransom?”

  “That would be an obvious answer, however, the prize might be her dowry. It all depends on who is desperate enough to go to such lengths.” Darcy turned to Hutchins. “Have a footman take a note to Matlock House, and use someone who has great discretion. There is no need for this to go beyond our families.”

  “Yes, sir.” Hutchins gave him a slight bow and disappeared down the hall.

  “Anna, did you see anything unusual this evening?”

  In his mixture of anger and fright, Darcy had forgotten about Georgiana’s lady’s maid. Thank the good Lord for Lizzy’s clear thinking. He waited alongside his wife for her answer.

  “No, Mrs. Darcy. Miss Georgiana said she was too excited to go to sleep right away, so I offered to make a cup of warm milk.” She waved her hand toward the desk where an abandoned cup of milk sat cooling. “When I returned, this is how I found the bedchamber.” Anna fished a handkerchief out of her pocket and wiped at the tears streaming down her face. “I was only gone for about a half hour.”

  “It took you a half hour to warm up some milk!” Darcy exploded and took a step toward the maid, his anger getting the best of him. Lizzy’s hand on his forearm stopped him. At the sight of Anna’s eyes, wide with fear, he drew himself up straight. “My apologies, Anna. I’m beside myself with worry.”

  “I understand, sir. I had to hang up her ball gown first.”

  “Anna, you may go to your room and we will speak further in the morning. Please do not speak of this to anyone.” Lizzy soothed, tugging Darcy back to her side.

  “Not a word will pass my lips, and thank you, Mrs. Darcy.” Anna curtsied and hurried from the room.

  Lizzy faced Darcy,
cupping his face with her palm.

  “We will find her, Fitz. Now go, write that note and I’ll canvas a few other servants who were awake to see if they noticed anything out of the ordinary.”

  He turned his face to kiss her palm. “What would I do if I lost you, my Lizzy?”

  “That is something you never have to worry about.” She placed her hands on his shoulders and gently turned him around to face the door. “Now go.”

  By the time Darcy had penned a letter and sent a footman to Matlock House, Hutchins attended the study with one of the stable boys.

  “Mr. Darcy, Clive is one of our stable boys and he may have some information.”

  “What do you know, Clive?”

  “I saw a large gray carriage on the street. It were there fer a couple of hours.”

  “Did you see who was in the carriage?”

  “No, but I kept a look-see, ‘cause the driver were watching the ‘ouse.”

  “That was very astute of you, Clive.”

  The boy flushed, “Thank you, Mr. Darcy.”

  “When was the last time you saw the carriage.”

  “It were a little after you and the missus returned. I’d finished beddin’ down the ‘orses, when I ‘eard a noise. I followed me knack, thinkin’ it ‘ad sumthin to do wif the carriage and saw a man carryin’ a woman. I now know it ‘ad to be Miss Darcy. ‘E placed ‘er in the carriage and took off at a right fast pace.”

  “Why didn’t you tell anyone sooner?”

  “Clive came forward before I’d even begun to canvas the servants, Mr. Darcy.” Hutchins interjected. “He didn’t know whom he should tell as the stable foreman had the night off.”

  “Thank you, Hutchins.” Darcy once again focused his attention on the stable boy. “Did the carriage have any distinguishing marks?”

  “Not that I could tell, ‘ceptin’ the front wheel. It were a different color. Like it were new, and the ‘orses didn’t match. The lead set were a nice pair of greys, there were a bay and the other dark, almost black.” The boy scratched behind his ear, as if in thought. “Mr. Darcy, sir, I can’t say for certain, but the man looked like that bloke what’s been comin’ around. Sir Reginald or sumthin’ like that.”