Mr. Darcy's Little Sister

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Mr. Darcy's Little Sister Page 18

by C. Allyn Pierson


  Elizabeth added in a softer tone. “I am sure Miss Darcy and the others will be perfectly fine. It does not do to anticipate trouble.”

  “Yes, mum.”

  “Good. Lambert, my cloak please.”

  “Yes, Madame.”

  Suddenly Durand cried out, “Madam! I just remembered! A few days ago I heard Miss Darcy talking to Mrs. Annesley about walking from the Stanhope Gate to the Serpentine! They decided not to go as the weather looked like it might rain, but maybe that’s the way they went!”

  Elizabeth smiled at the maid. “Very good thinking, Durand. We will start there.”

  Within ten minutes, Elizabeth was down the stairs and out the front door, where she found Burton climbing up onto the box with the coachman.

  “Burton! What are you doing?” He started and stepped down, looking embarrassed.

  “I am going with you, madam, with your permission. I know I will not be of much help if one of them has turned an ankle, but there are also two footmen on the back.” He lowered his voice. “I thought that the fewer servants who know about this the less gossip there would be, so I thought I should go myself.”

  Elizabeth looked at him for a moment and saw with pity his distress. Burton had made serving the Darcy family his entire life and would have known Georgiana since her birth. She turned to enter the coach.

  “Very well. You are probably correct, Burton. Start at the Stanhope Gate.”

  The elderly man climbed stiffly back up onto the box and sat next to the coachman and they departed. Elizabeth searched the streets, trying to peer through the deepening dusk thickened by a smoky haze from the coal fires, but she did not see any movement.

  They reached the park quickly and drove up and down Park Lane, staring into the clumps of leafless trees and shrubs. When they reached the corner, the coachman stopped and Burton climbed down and opened the door.

  “Which way should we look, madam?”

  Elizabeth considered.

  “Let us go back to the Stanhope Gate and we will send the footmen down the path that goes directly to the Serpentine. It was late enough in the day that I do not think Miss Darcy would have taken a circuitous route.”

  “Yes, madam.” He went around to the back of the carriage to talk to the footmen. When he had clambered stiffly back up onto the box, the coachman turned the carriage around and they went back up Park Lane to the Stanhope Gate. The two footmen jumped off the back as soon as the coach stopped moving and trotted into the park. Elizabeth drummed her fingers on the window ledge as she peered after them, her sense of unease expanding in the silence. She suppressed her desire to rush after them; they were old retainers of the Darcy family and they would do their best to find Georgiana, but each moment sitting there in the dark seemed like an eternity.

  Fifteen minutes passed and she suddenly saw a movement out of the corner of her eye. When she looked out again she saw three men; the two outer ones seemed to support the middle one. As they approached she felt her heart sink into her toes. All three men wore the Darcy livery. The carriage rocked as Burton jumped hastily down from the box and rushed to the footmen. After a short conversation he jogged awkwardly back to the carriage door and spoke between pants for breath.

  “Mrs. Darcy. John says they were set upon while walking back on the path from the Serpentine. Two men. One of them coshed John with something heavy—some lead shot in a sock, maybe.”

  “And Miss Darcy and Mrs. Annesley?”

  “He doesn’t know. When he awoke a few minutes ago with a splitting head it was almost dark and he was lying alone under a large yew. He was off the side of the path, he says, and an entire army could have marched by without seeing him. We are just lucky he awoke and called out or they would not have found him.”

  Elizabeth stared at him grimly.

  “Put John inside the coach, Burton.”

  His eyes widened with surprise.

  Elizabeth made an impatient gesture. “He is not fit to ride outside. Drive directly back to Ashbourne House. The footmen will take John inside and send for the apothecary. He must have that head seen to. Then, you will come with me and we will drive to Longford House. I need to talk to Lord Whitwell.”

  Burton bowed his head, but she could see his satisfaction at not being excluded from the hunt for Georgiana. It was only a matter of minutes before they were on the way to Longford House. When they pulled up to the door, Elizabeth alighted and marched to the door, followed by Burton. She rang the bell and a look of astonishment ran over the face of the Longford House butler when he opened the door. His eyes flicked to Burton and back to Elizabeth before he ushered them in with a semblance of his usual dignity.

  “How may I serve you, Mrs. Darcy?”

  “I wish to see Lord Whitwell on a matter of some urgency.”

  The butler glanced again at her face and said hastily, “I will ascertain if his lordship is in, madam.”

  He walked with unceremonious haste towards the dining-room and disappeared, to reappear within seconds with Lord Whitwell on his heels, serviette still in his hand.

  “Mrs. Darcy!” He paused, taken aback at the expression on her face. “Hanford said that you are here on an urgent matter. Come into the library; there is a good fire in there. Hanford, bring wine.”

  “Yes, your lordship.”

  Elizabeth glanced back at Burton, who was standing awkwardly in the hall.

  “I would like Burton to come, too, Lord Whitwell. He knows all the particulars of why I am here.”

  “As you wish.”

  Elizabeth was soon divested of her cloak by a waiting footman and it was but a few steps to the library. As soon as the door closed out the Longford House servants, Elizabeth said succinctly, “Lord Whitwell, Georgiana has been kidnapped.”

  Chapter 14

  Ah Fear! Ah frantic Fear!

  I see, I see thee near.

  —William Collins, “Ode to Fear”

  Georgiana paced the length of the small bedroom, as she had many times since they had been locked in after their abduction, and reviewed the incidents of the day. The afternoon had been crisp, necessitating a brisk pace to keep warm, but there was no wind and she had enjoyed the fresh air in the park after the exertions of the day. They had walked all the way to the Serpentine and had just turned back when a carriage had drawn up on the road which intersected the path in the middle of the park. As soon as the carriage had come to a halt, two men had jumped out. It had taken but a moment to see the scarves wrapped around their lower faces and their hats drawn down over their brows, and she had known that they were trouble. She had tried to scream, but her throat closed convulsively and the only cry she had managed had been a feeble croak.

  With a strength born of fear, she had clutched Mrs. Annesley’s hand and swung her around, picked up her skirts and turned to run, almost dragging the older woman before she could respond and start running. They had taken only a few steps before one of the men had grabbed her. Out of the corner of her eye, she had seen the other raise his arm up and bring it down. The resulting ripe-melon thud had not boded well for John, the footman who had accompanied them. Before she could speak, she and the protesting Mrs. Annesley had been bundled into the waiting carriage.

  The windows had been covered with black cloth, tacked down so that they could not see out. One of the men had climbed in with them and settled onto the opposite seat with his arms crossed over his chest, while the other had climbed onto the box, and the carriage had jerked into motion. Except for Georgiana reaching over and taking Mrs. Annesley’s hand, they had sat, frozen, on the hard seat while the carriage drove quickly through town. She had tried to keep track of the turns, but had inevitably lost her bearings.

  Finally, after what seemed to be hours, they had arrived at a house. It seemed to be in the country; it was quiet except for the sounds of a few birds which had not yet settled down for the
night, and one frog peeping in the distance. The men did not touch them but blocked either side of the door when it opened so they had no choice but to go straight into the house.

  When they entered the small front room, Georgiana finally found her voice.

  “Just what is going on here? You had better release us immediately or my brother…”

  One of the men, the shorter of the two, laughed. “You mean your brother who is in France? It will be a long trip for him to get back tonight to rescue you, Miss Darcy.”

  Georgiana was shocked back into silence and Mrs. Annesley spoke up, stepping in front of Georgiana as she did so:

  “Just what are your intentions? If you try to lay even a finger on this young lady I will…”

  The same man who had spoken before interrupted her with a coarse laugh.

  “Don’t worry about your little chick, old woman. We do not want to hurt her; her uncle might not pay as well for damaged goods. As long as you behave and her family comes across with the money, you are safe enough.”

  Georgiana felt the blood in her veins turn to ice at what the man was crudely implying, and she was afraid her limbs would not support her. Mrs. Annesley, noticing her weakness, put her arm firmly around her waist and faced the men with a grim expression.

  Just then, an old woman shuffled into the room, holding a twig broom and sucking her lips in and out of her toothless mouth. The man who had been speaking, whom Georgiana had mentally dubbed “Shorty” because of his lesser height, made an impatient movement and said harshly, “You two get into that room. If you behave yourselves like ladies you will have no trouble. The shutters are all sealed shut, so you needn’t think you will escape.”

  The two women, still holding onto each other, walked in the direction the man indicated and soon found themselves locked into a small bedroom. The room was sparsely furnished, and the dresser top was dusty. Georgiana sat slowly down on the bed, her eyes staring at her companion, and whispered, “What is happening? Why are they doing this?”

  Mrs. Annesley sat down next to her and whispered in her ear, “I do not know. Is your brother really in France?”

  “I am not sure; he thought he might have to go to the Continent, but he did not say where. I don’t believe he knew at the time he left Pemberley.”

  “These people must have an informant close to the family to know so much about your brother.”

  Georgiana nodded silently and then got up and checked the windows. They were indeed sealed shut, as the short man had said. She did not bother to try the door; she had heard the lock snick as the key had turned in the keyhole and, even had it not been locked, she would not want to face the two men who would be just outside the door. She settled onto the bed again and clasped her hands in her lap to stop their shaking. Mrs. Annesley put her arms around her charge and drew her head onto her shoulder, rocking her like a baby. Georgiana relaxed in her arms and covered her face with her hands, trying not to burst into tears.

  They stayed that way for more than an hour as the dusk faded into a darkness unrelieved by candle or fire, until they heard a commotion in the outer room. The kidnappers were yelling and there were several loud crashes; then silence fell. The two women stared at each other. What was going on? It could not be a rescue attempt, for there was no way that Georgiana’s family could have found where they were so soon. They listened intently and heard the sound of something heavy being dragged down the hallway outside their door then the metallic rattle of a key in a lock.

  ***

  After another two hours, Georgiana’s fear was becoming displaced by her hunger. Except for a cup of tea in the early afternoon, they had not eaten since breakfast.

  “I hope they are not going to starve us,” she whispered to her companion.

  “I doubt they will. It will not help them if we are nothing but bags of bones when we are released.” She smiled encouragingly at her charge.

  As if in response to their words, the key sounded in the lock and the door swung open. Georgiana was astonished to see Jonathan Walker stumble inside, his hands and feet shackled. She gave a cry and stood up and he smiled ruefully at her, his right eye swollen shut.

  “I am sorry; the rescue did not quite come off the way I had planned, Miss Darcy.”

  “Rescue?”

  He paused until the toothless old woman had shoved a tray onto the small table in the corner under the watchful eyes of the two gaolers, who then shut and locked the door again, before he answered in a whisper:

  “Yes, Miss Darcy. I was riding in Hyde Park in the dusk—I prefer Rotten Row when it is not completely engorged with people—and I saw those two men accost you and knock out your man—a footman, I presume?”

  Georgiana nodded silently.

  “I did not at first realise who you were, I only knew that two ladies had been attacked. I turned my horse to follow their carriage and managed to keep it in sight without them seeing me… At least I thought they had not seen me. Unfortunately, they were waiting for me after I left my horse down the road and crept up to the house. It is the only one along this stretch of road, so I knew it had to be the place where they had disappeared, and when I crept through the yard I saw a bit of the carriage through the open door of the barn. This is not the kind of place that would have a carriage and horses. At any rate, they jumped on me and here we are.”

  Georgiana suddenly noticed a smudge of red on his cheek and said, “You are bleeding, Mr. Walker!”

  He reached up his shackled hands to touch the right side of his scalp, where a large bruise oozed blood. “It is nothing. Just a little scrape, Miss Darcy.”

  “You must let me clean it… if we can find some water to dampen my handkerchief.”

  She went over to the table and looked in the cracked pitcher on the tray. “Here is some water.” She dampened the handkerchief and came back, her face flushed in embarrassment at the intimacy of the process as she gently wiped the blood off his face and head. “There. Now just hold that on the wound for a while and it should stop bleeding. I suppose we should try to eat. I do not know whether I am hungry or ill, I feel so peculiar.”

  Mrs. Annesley said, “We should all try to eat something or we will be ill.”

  Jonathan Walker stood up and, with his shackled arms, tried to help Mrs. Annesley pull the table over to the bed, since there were no chairs in the room. Walker gestured to Georgiana.

  “Miss Darcy, you must sit down and eat first.”

  She protested briefly at being first, but soon gave in to their importunities and managed to swallow a small portion of the lumpy porridge and bread on the tray. Once she had eaten a few bites she realised that she was starving, and so she fought to eat her share of the food, and no more. After about an hour they heard the jangle of the gaoler’s keys and he opened the door, roughly gesturing to Mr. Walker to come with him. The door was locked after him and the two ladies were again alone. It was now completely dark and they still had no candle to light the room, so after sitting silently in the dark for some time Mrs. Annesley said, “Well, I suppose we might as well try to get some sleep. Our captors do not seem to mean us any immediate harm.”

  Georgiana nodded and added, “Yes, I suppose so. I feel ill thinking of how worried Elizabeth and my aunt and uncle must be right now. I hope that John was not hurt too badly.”

  “He probably just has a sore head and is being cosseted by Mrs. Burton in front of the kitchen fire.”

  Georgiana gave her a wan smile. She knew that her companion was trying to keep her spirits up and she appreciated her efforts, but she could not empty the vision of Elizabeth’s frantic search for them from her head. They drew back the thin covers of the bed and climbed in, huddling together for warmth as the chill of night crept into their fireless prison.

  ***

  “Kidnapped!” Lord Whitwell said, shocked.

  Elizabeth nodded. “Yes, impossible a
s it sounds.” She proceeded to tell him of the afternoon’s events.

  “The footman was injured?”

  “Yes, but not badly. He has a lump on the back of his head the size of a hen’s egg but no broken bones, as far as I could tell. The apothecary is with him now.”

  Lord Whitwell reached back and rang the bell and Hanford appeared in the doorway.

  “Hanford, I am writing a note to Colonel Fitzwilliam and you are to deliver it into his hand as soon as possible. You are not to speak of this to anyone but the colonel.” He looked over his reading spectacles at the butler. “Have I made myself clear?”

  Hanford bowed. “Yes, your lordship. If you will just ring when you are ready, I will go as soon as you finish the note.”

  Before the man left the room Lord Whitwell was scribbling a note then folding and sealing it. He rang and Hanford took the note and left.

  During this interval, Elizabeth sat back in her chair, relieved to share her burden with two men as capable as Lord Whitwell and the colonel. After Hanford had disappeared, Lord Whitwell said to Elizabeth, “Now, Mrs. Darcy, please repeat everything again from the beginning. I must know every detail if we are to find Georgiana.”

  She went slowly over all, from the conversation between Georgiana and Mrs. Annesley before she retired to rest until she appeared at the door of Longford House. When she finally stopped talking, he said, “Do you have any suspicions of anyone in the matter?”

  She thought a moment. “This morning I would have said that it was impossible for anyone we know to do something such as this. The only man that I was ever concerned about in the past was Jonathan Walker.”

  “Do you know if he is he in town?”

  “He is. We saw him not two days ago when he called. He had a cup of tea and conversed with all three of us very pleasantly. He did not seem different or unusual in any way. He is staying with another neighbour from Derbyshire, Sir Robert Blake, who seems a man of great probity. We also had dinner at Sir Robert’s last week when he first arrived in town. I did not see anything to concern me that evening. Mr. Walker was attentive to Georgiana, but so he also was to Miss Blake. Mrs. Annesley mentioned to my husband several months ago that Mr. Walker seemed quite interested in Georgiana and has occasionally asked her to join him for a walk or to go riding, which she has declined to allow Georgiana to do, even with a chaperone. She felt that since Georgiana was not yet out she could not sanction such an intimate relationship with a young man without consulting Georgiana’s guardians. She said that Mr. Walker had accepted her strictures graciously and merely expressed the thought that Georgiana’s coming-out could not be too soon for his satisfaction.”

 

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