The Disappearance of Georgiana Darcy: A Pride and Prejudice Mystery

by Regina Jeffers

  “Been working fer Mr. Darcy come on four years now,” the groom replied. “Me Pa worked for the master’s father. They both be fine gentlemen.”

  Wickham had removed his uniform jacket to lessen a chance of recognition. “I knew the present Mr. Darcy when we were both youths. He was a bit starchy in those days.”

  “He ain’t no easy man, but Mr. Darcy treat me right,” the man argued. “Not a fairer master in the shire.”

  Wickham refused any kind thoughts of the man he had once called friend. He laid out his hand and reached for his winnings. He would have preferred a game with higher stakes, but he would accept these men’s meager earnings. It was a convoluted way of stealing from Darcy.

  “What goes on at the main house?” he asked casually. For a brief second, he wondered whether his wife had been permitted to join her family festivities. Lydia, despite her immaturity, had aligned herself with him. No one had ever shown him such loyalty. Maybe in the future, he should see to the girl’s happiness. Resenting having been trapped in their marriage, he had never given Mrs. Wickham the opportunity to become a good wife. He could possibly mold her into the type of woman that he needed to advance in his military career. Lydia did have a pleasing personality, and she was adventurous. Yet, he would not consider any such move until he had exacted some form of revenge on Darcy for the slight he had suffered at the man’s hands.

  “Big party for Mrs. Darcy’s sister and the local clergy, Mr. Winkler. Ye know the man?” the groom continued to speak for the group.

  “No. I departed the neighborhood a decade since.” Wickham reshuffled the cards for the next round. “Is the whole family in attendance? I recall Mr. Darcy having a cousin that was as close as a brother.” He had always despised Edward Fitzwilliam. The earl’s youngest son had thought himself too far above Wickham to claim a close acquaintance, and Fitzwilliam had often counseled Darcy to ignore Wickham’s taunts and schemes.

  “That be the Major General. He and Miss Darcy marry in March. The new Mrs. Fitzwilliam not be at tonight’s celebration. She be meetin’ her husband in Scotland at the family home. He be fightin’ old Boney until recently.”

  Wickham continued his interest. “Really? I suppose that will be pleasant for them both. I mean, a man likes to have his woman beneath him.” He smiled congenially at the men sitting around the makeshift table in Darcy’s barn.

  The groom snickered. “That he do.”

  Wickham thought of how he had once schemed to make Georgiana Darcy his wife. He had nearly gotten away with it, too. He had manipulated his former amour Mrs. Younge, who had secured a position as Miss Darcy’s companion. The woman had been easy to seduce. Almost as easy as Darcy’s little sister. He had plied the girl with reminders of his kindness to her as a child, and Georgiana’s affectionate heart had retained a strong impression of those shared memories. In fact, Wickham was certain the girl had fallen in love with him.

  However, Darcy had arrived before the intended elopement could take place. All his carefully executed plans had fallen through. Late in the night, he collected his belongings from where he had stashed them in a nearby copse. His resolve for revenge against the Darcys hardened against Georgiana, her aristocratic husband, and the haughty Fitzwilliam Darcy. He would have to content himself with Mrs. Darcy suffering indirectly for aligning herself with the Darcys of Pemberley. After all, he told himself with a wicked grin gracing his lips, I cannot harm my wife’s sister.

  Chapter 6

  “LIEUTENANT? IS SOMETHING AMISS?” Having his temporary aide follow him to Rosings Park had set Edward’s disaster instincts on alert. He had called on his aunt and cousin as he awaited his release from duty. Lady Catherine’s devitalized state had worried him, and he had made a point of spending time alone with the lady to better ascertain what had brought on his imperious aunt’s reduced presence.

  “It will be important that the household not treat Southland as an invalid,” he remarked as they shared tea in Her Ladyship’s favorite drawing room.

  His aunt smoothed an imaginary wrinkle from her gown. “I shall speak directly to Mr. Varney and Mrs. Montgomery. It shall be as you suggest.”

  “How goes Anne’s transition to the estate’s helm?” he asked nonchalantly.

  Lady Catherine drew in a deep breath. “Anne has a good grasp of the ledgers, but she has no concept of the why and the wherefore of purchases and upkeep. It shall be a relief to welcome Captain Southland home.”

  “Then Anne and Roman have found a measure of happiness in their joining?”

  She busied herself with refilling her cup. “Neither shall handle the responsibilities of Rosings without the other. They have gaping weaknesses, but together, they shall persevere.”

  “And you, Your Ladyship? How are you persevering?” Again he eyed his aunt suspiciously. Something was different, but Edward could not pinpoint the exact change. Lady Catherine appeared less robust, but he was unsure whether that had to do with despondency over the idea of turning her beloved Rosings over to Anne, or whether is was something more pronounced.

  “What do you insinuate, Edward?” Lady Catherine said tersely. “That I lack the magnanimity to see my daughter into my position?”

  Before he could respond, Mr. Varney had interrupted their conversation with news of Lieutenant Conrad’s unexpected arrival. Having asked the Rosings’ butler to show his aide into the room and then having made a hasty introduction, Edward had asked, “Is something amiss?”

  Conrad fixed his mouth in a tight line. “I beg your indulgence, Sir. Headquarters demanded that I seek you out.” He extended his hand, which held an official-looking letter.

  Edward reached for the item. Despite his best efforts, his hand trembled as he accepted the message. “If Napoleon has escaped again, someone else must report to the Continent,” he said pointedly. Using the knife from the tea tray, he broke the wax seal and began to read. “What the…” he growled. “How could this happen?”

  A raised eyebrow said his tone had worried his aunt. “What is it, Edward?”

  “Some asinine clerk at Westminster has sent my parents and Georgiana news of my demise.” He was out of his chair and pacing the floor. “My God! The Earl must be devastated. And Georgiana. This mistake will destroy my wife. Lord! I apologize, Your Ladyship,” he rasped. “But I must leave. I must be to Derbyshire.”

  She struggled to her feet with Conrad’s assistance. “Of course, Edward. Tell me what I might do to settle this error. Poor Martin is likely to be apoplectic.”

  “Would you write to the Earl and assure him of my survival? My father will believe you above some military missive. Explain to him that I must reach Georgiana before this news becomes common knowledge. She is alone in Scotland, and I worry how she will handle such erroneous garble without family to support her.”

  “I shall have Mr. Varney send for your horse. Go pack your things. I shall see to the rest.”

  Edward caught her up in a quick embrace. “You are quite remarkable,” he whispered into her hair, and then he rushed from the room.

  “As are you,” she murmured to his retreating form.

  “You look absolutely lovely,” Lydia gushed as she joined her other sisters and their mother in Kitty’s suite at Pemberley.

  Kitty giggled. “I feel lovely.” She spun in place. “The gown is perfect.”

  “I preferred the one Mrs. Swift designed,” Mrs. Bennet fussed over one of the seams, “but I bow to Jane’s and Lizzy’s knowledge of fashion. God only knows that I have no opportunity to observe the latest fashions in Hertfordshire. We are slow in the countryside to incorporate London’s whims.”

  Lizzy gave her mother’s shoulder a quick squeeze. “Mrs. Bingley and I have cheated, Mama. We borrowed Mrs. Fitzwilliam’s fashion plates.”

  Kitty twirled again. “I do not care how it came about. This dress is exquisite. My gratitude knows no bounds.”

  Elizabeth’s smile tugged at her mouth’s corners. “I have a present for you. This is from Mr. Da
rcy and me.” She handed Kitty a colorfully wrapped package.

  “Oh, my,” Kitty gasped. With trembling fingers, she pulled the paper away and lifted the lid. “Lizzy,” she rasped breathily. “They are magnificent.”

  “At Georgiana’s wedding, I noticed your wearing the teardrop diamond. You seem never to remove it.”

  Kitty thought of the secret she had shared with Major General Fitzwilliam and her special reward from the Prince Regent. “It is a gift from Mr. Winkler’s grandmother,” she lied. She prayed that God would not strike her down for beginning her wedding day with an untruth.

  “The necklace is so dainty, but so striking,” Elizabeth added. “When I saw these, I thought them the perfect match.”

  Kitty removed the earrings from the box. They were small diamonds. As Elizabeth had said, they would highlight the diamond resting at the swell of her bosom. She rolled them across her palm. “You shall express my gratitude to Mr. Darcy?”

  Elizabeth embraced her, and Kitty felt the tears prick her eyes. “I shall be pleased to have you so close to Pemberley.” Her sister caressed her cheek, and Kitty fought another round of tears. “We must to the church,” Elizabeth announced. “Come everyone. Our carriages await. Kitty, Papa shall be up to escort you to the services in a few minutes.”

  Each sister embraced her as they rushed to join the gentlemen waiting below. Soon, only her mother remained. “It hurts a woman to send her child off to the home of another.” Mrs. Bennet placed a loose curl behind Kitty’s ear. “You are the last of my children—the last to leave Longbourn.”

  “Mama, you have spent the last decade on a campaign to find us all proper husbands. You should be pleased with your success. Few mothers can claim such worthy gentlemen as family.”

  Her mother preened with the praise. Just like Lydia, Kitty thought. Until this moment, she had not considered how very similar her youngest sister’s personality was to their mother’s. Although she silently cringed with each of her mother’s exclamations of delight, for years, Kitty had tried to fit into the family by imitating Lydia’s actions. A person cannot have it both ways, she reminded herself.

  “I would not call it a campaign,” Mrs. Bennet said, “but I did my best by each of you.”

  “That you did, my dear,” Mr. Bennet declared from the open doorway. “It is time, Mrs. Bennet. Mrs. Darcy awaits you in her coach. Everyone else has departed for the church.”

  “Of course, Mr. Bennet.” With one last caress of Kitty’s cheek, she disappeared. Loud sniffs of happiness echoed through the hall.

  Her father paused before opening his arms to her, and immediately, Kitty hurried to fill them. “Oh, my precious girl,” he whispered. “You have blossomed into quite the young woman.”

  Kitty fought the sobs gathering in her chest. “Thank you, Papa.”

  He cleared his throat. “We cannot tarry. Mr. Winkler must be pacing the floor in anticipation.”

  Kitty took a deep, satisfying breath. “I am ready,” she whispered.

  “Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the presence of these witnesses…” From the church’s raised dais, Mr. Joseph’s voice rang clear. “To join together this Man and this Woman in holy Matrimony; which is an honourable estate…”

  Thorne’s eyes remained locked on Kitty’s countenance. She was the most breathtakingly beautiful sight he had ever beheld. He tried to wipe the silly grin from his lips, but it was impossible to hide his elation. Joseph’s voice continued in the background, but all he knew was that Catherine Bennet would be his forever.

  “I require and charge you both, that if either of you know any impediment, why you may not be lawfully joined together in Matrimony, you do now confess it. For be ye well assured, that so many as are coupled together otherwise than God’s Word doth allow are not joined together by God; neither is their Matrimony lawful.”

  Thorne wondered what had become of Mr. Joseph’s prior words. He could not recall the man’s resonant voice beyond “Dearly beloved.” From the moment she had entered the church, he had thought of nothing but the woman beside him. For over two years, he had watched her. When he had first laid eyes upon Catherine Bennet, she had, literally, taken his breath away. He had stumbled through a sermon that he could normally have recited backwards. And when he had first held her hand, it was like a punch to his stomach. She had captured his heart with one innocent beat of her eyelashes. He was lost to all but her. But a man must move slowly when a girl is not yet a young woman, and so he had waited. However, when she had returned to Pemberley last Christmas, Thorne had been convinced that it was time to claim her as his own.

  Evidently, he had pronounced his vows at the correct time, for he heard Mr. Joseph say, “O Eternal God, Creator and Preserver of all mankind, Giver of all spiritual grace, the Author of everlasting life; send this Man this Woman, whom we bless in thy Name; that, as Isaac and Rebecca lived faithfully together, so these persons may surely perform and keep the vow and covenant betwixt them made, and may ever remain in perfect love and peace together, and live according to thy laws; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.”

  “Mrs. Darcy,” Darcy said softly as he stepped behind her. “May I speak to you privately for a moment?”

  “Of course, Mr. Darcy.” Elizabeth excused herself from the neighbors who had paid their respects during the wedding breakfast.

  Darcy led her to a recessed alcove in the large drawing room. “I apologize for drawing you away from our guests.” He kept his voice low to assure privacy. “But I needed to speak to you. Mr. Joseph has received an urgent message from his wife’s father. Parnell has learned of Lord McClinton’s possible interest in the Kilmarnock and Troon Railway. He wants Joseph to leave for the Ayrshire coast immediately to secure the rights. Could you see your way clear to my leaving this afternoon rather than tomorrow morning?”

  “Oh, Fitzwilliam,” she said as she sank against him. “I know it is foolish, but I had hoped there would be another way.”

  Darcy held her close, lightly stroking her back. “If it were a lesser opportunity, I would not consider it. Yet, we both understand that change is coming to the English countryside. We can either embrace it or be knocked over by it. It is likely to take two decades for the full impact of these decisions to be known. By then, Bennet will be coming into his inheritance. This is a slow, long-term investment that will prove profitable for our children and likely for their children.”

  “Then I cannot practice selfishness,” she murmured as she released her hold on his waist. “You shall not tarry. Go to Scotland, and finish your business quickly. Then come back to me and to our son.”

  “I will have someone pack my bags. Meet me in our rooms in thirty minutes,” he whispered in her ear.

  “Lizzy.” Jane caught her hand. “Mr. Bingley has ordered our carriages for one of the clock. We shall return to Cheshire this afternoon.”

  “Shall everyone desert me in one afternoon?” she grumbled. “Must you?”

  Jane glanced to where Lydia spoke to two of Darcy’s neighbors. “We had originally planned to leave on the morrow, but this way we may depart for the North tomorrow.”

  Elizabeth followed her sister’s gaze. “And you would remove Lydia from Pemberley.”

  “Mr. Bingley thinks it best. We shall take Lydia and Mama to Cheshire and then deposit them in Carlisle on our way north.”

  “Although I cannot approve of your retreat, I offer Mr. Bingley my gratitude for resolving a stinging situation.”

  “Papa says he shall remain at Pemberley in Mr. Darcy’s absence. If we take Mama and Lydia with us, then Mary and Mr. Grange may use Papa’s coach to return to Hertfordshire. It is for the best.”

  Elizabeth frowned deeply. “Just like foul-tasting medicine. For the best; but no one wishes to swallow it.”

  The heavy drapes left the bedroom in shadow. “Fitzwilliam,” she whispered as she slipped into the darkened chamber. Then his lips grazed her shoulder from behind. “Fitz…Fitzwi
lliam.” She inhaled quickly and held her breath.

  A smile tugged at his lips. “Yes, my love.” Irresistible yearning consumed his senses.

  “I thought you meant to kiss me farewell in private.” She leaned heavily against him.

  “Then you thought in error. If I must leave Pemberley, I will carry the scent of you on my skin.”

  “You say the most delicious things, Mr. Darcy.” She turned in his embrace to offer her mouth.

  Darcy feasted on her, implanting the memory of his wife on his fingertips, his mouth, his body. He allowed his eyes to revel in her dimly seen perfection. Darcy’s hand drifted slowly up the curve of her body to cup her chin. “Permit me to demonstrate how much I love you.” He trailed his lips down her neck. Like some ethereal concoction, the taste of her drove him insane. When Elizabeth shivered, he scooped her into his arms and carried her to their bed.

  “Our guests,” she murmured as he spread wet kisses along her collarbone.

  “Will think me the most fortunate of men to have gained your affections.”

  Forty minutes later, they returned to the drawing room to bid farewell to their company. Darcy refused to release her hand. He needed her touch on his arm—her heat filling him from each of her fingers. He noted Matthew Joseph’s possessive posture with his wife. “Still waters,” he murmured to Elizabeth when she observed Mary Joseph’s flushed face.

  “Or maybe not so still.” Elizabeth smiled knowingly at Darcy. “I shall be happy to entertain Mrs. Joseph until your return. It shall be a small consolation.”

  “After tomorrow, Pemberley will seem quite empty.”

  “At least, Kitty shall remain in the neighborhood,” Elizabeth said.

  Darcy kissed the back of her hand. “Let us bid the Reverend Mr. and Mrs. Winkler farewell. They will enjoy the privacy of the dowager house for the next week.”