Elizabeth shook her head in wonder at her own blindness. Poor Miss Darcy. And yet that same man had all but declared his love for her the night before. What was that about? She had felt how wrong it was for him to make such an announcement when they had only met once before. What did he hope to gain by declaring love for her, while trying to persuade another young woman to leave with him?
Was it possible he knew of her and Darcy spending so much time together as he said, and hoped to come between them if he suspected an attachment? He might very well be vain enough to suppose if he announced feelings for her, it would lead her away from Darcy and draw her towards him instead.
“Poor Georgiana,” whispered Elizabeth. She looked over the city where she had spent many times walking with her young friend. Listening to her confusion about George’s departure. Confessing to Elizabeth that she had been somewhat relieved, as she felt better since he had been gone and found she could not deceive her brother. How his constant pressuring was a source of pain and stress for her. It was as well that Georgiana’s attachment had lessened, but who was to say it would not revive again as soon as she saw Wickham? Elizabeth had suspected that Miss Darcy’s seducer would return, hoping his absence would make her agree to run away with him. And here was Wickham, freshly returned.
She would have to go to Miss Darcy and speak with her. Miss Darcy must be on her guard for when Wickham came back around. She must know what kind of man he truly was.
Elizabeth remembered Mr Darcy saying he would be away this morning, attending some business. She was grateful for that. She could not bear to see him right now, when she had embarrassed herself so badly. She would ask his forgiveness later, once she knew Miss Darcy was safe from Wickham’s clutches.
If she left now, Miss Darcy would be awake and practicing her music. Wasting no time on breakfast, she quickly found her spencer and bonnet and left the house.
As she suspected, Miss Darcy was awake and playing the pianoforte. She rose in surprise when she saw Elizabeth.
“Miss Bennet,” she said in delight. “I did not expect to see you until later. Or do I have the time wrong?”
“You do not have the time wrong,” said Elizabeth. “I am so sorry for intruding, Miss Darcy. I need to speak with you on what may be a painful topic.”
Georgiana’s face paled. She sat down again on her piano stool.
“Oh God, Miss Bennet. What has happened?” she asked.
Elizabeth drew up another stool beside her.
Quickly and as gently as she could, she outlined her dealings with Wickham. She also included how he had spoken to her the night before.
“I am so sorry, Miss Darcy,” said Elizabeth. “I was foolish to not make the connection. He is not worthy of you.”
Georgiana idly stroked the piano keys as Elizabeth spoke. When she finished, Georgiana’s eyes met hers. To Elizabeth’s surprise, she smiled.
“I am so glad you told me of this, Miss Bennet,” she said. “I have wrestled with my heart and had so many doubts. I thought I did not love him, but then felt ashamed as I remembered how kind he had been to me as a child, and how much he seemed to care for me now. And when I saw him last night…”
“You saw him last night?” Elizabeth cried.
Georgiana nodded, looking ashamed. “He came here after William left for the ball,” she said.
So that was the real reason Wickham had disappeared when Darcy arrived. What an odious man.
“What did he say to you?” Elizabeth asked.
Georgiana looked embarrassed. “That he loved me, and had everything all ready for us to be married. That my hesitation was breaking his heart, and he would never trust a woman again. That if we were to marry, Darcy would eventually forgive us both and we would be welcomed back into his life. I felt very confused after speaking with him. I always do after our encounters, odd as that may sound.”
Elizabeth nodded. “And how did you leave things between you?” she asked.
“He told me he would give me one more day to think. He seemed angry at first, but he was so kind towards the end that I felt quite guilty. He told me he had to leave, but did not say where he was going.”
“Well, we both know now,” said Elizabeth with a laugh. “I am so sorry he pulled you into all this, Miss Darcy. He is a cad. You must forget him. Someday, you will find a man worthy of you.”
“You are very kind, Miss Bennet. And I am glad you are here. I feel sure he will come again this morning, and I will need to borrow your strength to keep my resolve. I do wish I had confessed to my brother. I am resolved to tell him all this evening when he is home, and hope he is not too badly hurt by my behaviour.”
“He will be glad you told him,” Elizabeth assured her.
Georgiana returned her smile nervously. “Now, to help me take my mind off things, would you like to hear me play? It is a new piece and I will know I have really mastered it when I can play it before an audience.”
“I would be delighted,” said Elizabeth. She was relieved the conversation had gone so well. She had been so afraid the young girl would be heartbroken by her revelation. And her own was quite untouched. It seemed Mr Wickham could not make as deep an impact on ladies hearts as he wished to believe.
Georgiana looked through some music books on top of the instrument.
“I can’t seem to find the one I am looking for,” she said absent-mindedly. “Please excuse me, Miss Bennet. I sometimes play on a smaller piano in the other wing. Perhaps that is where I left it.”
Georgiana left the room. Elizabeth strolled to the window to wait for her. Mr Darcy would be home in a few hours. How could she face him after the way she behaved the night before? She had accused him of being rude and unfeeling. It was unpardonable, and she could only hope that he would forgive her.
As she looked out onto the street, a movement caught her eye. A man stood outside the house, almost concealed in a small shrubbery. For a moment, Elizabeth assumed it was a servant sorting through some letters. She almost looked away again in disinterest, but an uneasy feeling made her look back. The man slipped around and went to the back of the house. It was Wickham, she was sure of it.
Elizabeth ran from the room, searching for Georgiana. She was nowhere to be seen. A sharp bark caught her attention. Jessie stood at a small side door, standing up against it on her hind legs and yelping. It was a door used on rare occasions by the servants. Elizabeth took a deep breath and pulled the door open. Her vision was briefly impaired by the sun before she heard a rough voice swear angrily.
“Grab her too,” it ordered.
A hand slapped across her mouth and Elizabeth twisted and struggled, desperately trying to bite at it. As she thrashed about, she lashed out at the man who’d given the order. She caught a glimpse of scarlet and tore at the material. Something metallic fell to the ground before she succeeded in sinking her teeth into the foul-tasting flesh that held her. With a cry of pain, the man hit her over the back of the head. Distantly, she was aware of Georgiana shrieking her name, before darkness overcame her.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The house was quiet when Darcy returned that evening. He called the housekeeper and asked where Georgiana was.
“I haven’t seen her, sir. Miss Bennet called on her this morning, and I imagine they have gone out together,” she told him.
“I see,” he replied. Miss Bennet. She had occupied his thoughts all day. What had Wickham told her that could make her think so badly of him? And why had she believed him? He hoped she would return with Georgiana and he might have a moment to speak with her and explain himself if necessary. He had been about to tell her he loved her before it had all gone wrong. That was like Wickham. It would not have surprised Darcy at all if Wickham had seen them dance together and suspected Darcy’s feelings. He must already have been acquainted with Miss Bennet for his words to carry any weight with her.
Still thinking of Elizabeth, he walked to his rooms. A pitiful whine distracted him. Jessie lay down with her head on
her paws, beside a little used side door. He went over to her to stroke her silky head.
“What is it, Jess? Your mistress will be home soon,” he soothed.
In response, Jessie stood up and scratched at the door. Darcy laughed. “You will not find her out there, I’m afraid,” he said.
Jessie began to paw more insistently, barking sharply. Darcy sighed. “Alright, if you insist,” he said. He pulled open the door. He expected it to be stiff with disuse but to his surprise, it opened easily. One of the servants must have oiled it.
Jessie immediately began snuffling around the door, giving angry little growls. Darcy looked down and froze. The earth was churned up as if heels had been dug into it. Heavy footprints pressed into the soil. Just across from it were the marks of what looked like carriage wheels.
His heart pounding, he looked around some more. Something glinted in the afternoon sun. A militia insignia. He had seen one recently.
“Wickham,” he whispered. He felt sick as he realised what must have happened. Was this why Georgiana had been so pale and strange lately? And disappearing at times? He had worried about seeing Wickham when he learned he was also in Bath, but he never imagined he might interfere with Georgiana in any way.
And Elizabeth. Wickham must have taken her as well.
Darcy strode back into the house. He considered sending his footman to the magistrate, but that would mean having to sit around helplessly, and wait for news. Darcy could not have endured that. He pulled back on his coat, shoving the insignia in the pocket and walked down the street to the magistrate’s house.
“I will send someone over to the camp right away, sir,” Mr Crawford, the magistrate promised. “But it is unlikely we will get any answers. Can you think of a place Mr Wickham might go? Does he have contacts here? Other connections?”
Darcy frowned. He remembered walking down Milsom Street with Georgiana the day she had disappeared briefly. The greasy face of Hughes rose up before him.
“There is a tavern,” said Darcy quickly. “The White Stag. It is someway outside Bath. I know Wickham was friends with the owner there. He may know something.”
“The White Stag,” the magistrate repeated, his face grim. “Yes, I know of him, alright. I will send someone over right away.”
“I am going with you,” said Darcy.
“Sir, it may be dangerous,” said Crawford quickly. “If he has kidnapped your sister, that means he is desperate. And desperate man are apt to do anything. I cannot guarantee your safety.”
Darcy fixed him a withering look that would have shrunk a lesser man. “I am going,” he said steadily. The magistrate sighed. There was little point in arguing.
“Well then. Lets be on our way.”
Elizabeth opened her eyes, wincing at the throbbing pain in her head. She touched the area gingerly and felt a growing lump. Someone had hit her, but who? And where was she?
“Elizabeth,” whispered a frightened young voice. Georgiana.
Elizabeth sat up quickly and groaned. She looked around the dark room. “Georgiana. Where are we? What has happened?”
“I believe Wickham has taken us,” said Georgiana in a frightened voice. “I do not know where we are. They put something over my head so I could not see. Wickham told me we would be married, and that he has been gentle long enough.”
Elizabeth laughed scornfully. “Oh yes, he has been a paragon of virtue and is now entitled to take what he thinks he is owed,” she said in disgust. “Where is he now?” Her eyes were gradually adjusting to the darkness of the room. It was a small bed chamber, and one that by the smell of it was rarely cleaned. The bed she and Georgiana lay on was stale to the smell. The floors were bare and threadbare curtains were pulled across a window. Little light came through. Elizabeth knew she must have been unconscious for several hours at least.
She leaned over Georgiana and moved the ragged curtain to look out the window. It was dark, but she could still see it was a long way down to the road below.
“We cannot escape that way,” she whispered.
“What will we do, Miss Bennet?” Georgiana asked, her eyes large with terror. “I cannot marry that man. And you. What will happen to you once we are wed?”
Elizabeth was trying very hard not to think of that. She had heard stories of women being sold into certain trades and she felt sick with fear that the same could happen to her. She would rather die before she would allow that to be her fate.
Footsteps treaded heavily outside and stopped at their door. Elizabeth sat next to Georgiana and held her hand, whispering words of encouragement as the door squeaked open.
Wickham came into the room. He observed them in silence for a moment, then smiled sadly.
“I am so sorry it came to be this way,” he said. “It was never what I wanted. I wished for us to have a proper wedding, Georgie, one that you were as excited about as I was.” He looked at Elizabeth. “And Miss Bennet. I enjoyed your company more than I can say. I never wanted you to be involved, and get hurt in any way. You cannot imagine how upset I am at all this.”
“No,” said Elizabeth dryly. “I am sure we cannot even begin to comprehend your pain and suffering.”
Wickham laughed. “I always did enjoy your quick wit, Miss Bennet. Even though I was courting Miss Darcy and do love her most sincerely, I confess I was very much drawn to you.” He gave Georgiana an apologetic look. “I hope you will forgive me that, my dear. There will be much you will have to forgive me for over the years, I am afraid. I do not believe I will ever make a fine home and hearth husband, but you will be a married woman, and have the respectability of a name. That is more than Miss Bennet will have, I fear.”
Georgiana was too frozen with fear to respond. Elizabeth glared at him coldly. “Where have you taken us?” she demanded.
Wickham hesitated, then shrugged. “I suppose it does not matter so very much for you to know,” he said. “By the time word gets to anyone, there will be nothing they can do anyway, without causing a scandal to the Darcys. You are in my friend’s inn. He generously provided me with these fine rooms. This one, as well as a honeymoon chamber once the ceremony has been performed.” He smiled lovingly at Georgiana, who shrank against Elizabeth.
“And where shall I stay once this wedding has taken place?” she demanded.
Wickham nodded as if she had asked a fine, thought-provoking question. “I confess, I have been troubled what to do with you,” he said. “It was never part of the plan that you should be involved. So I am going to turn you over to my friend Hughes. He will decide. And in return for the money he will get for you, he will reduce some of my debts.”
The floor creaked again and a large, portly man appeared.
“I told him I am sure I can get a fine price for you that will offset what he owes me,” said the man with a smirk. Elizabeth looked at his oily hair and his utterly callous demeanour, and for the first time, began to feel very real fear. But some instinct in her warned her not to show it. And a certain stubbornness refused to give them the satisfaction. She stared steadily back at both of them. They watched her, waiting for her to shrink from their stares but she did not. Elizabeth was satisfied to see a flicker of unease, which they attempted to hide when they exchanged glances with each other.
“You can bring them downstairs now, George,” said the man. “And remember, the girl won’t be enough to cover even half your debts. You better hope the brother pays up for the other one, or you’re in trouble.”
“Of course he’ll pay for her, Sam” George snapped. “He won’t allow his precious little sister to starve.” He turned back to the girls with a gallant smile. “Ladies, if you will kindly come with me.” He gazed tenderly at Georgiana and extended a hand to her as if they were in a ballroom. “It is time for our wedding,” he whispered with the ardent tone of a lover. The mockery he made of the sentiments made Elizabeth feel ill, but she nodded at Georgiana to obey. Her brain was working furiously, desperately trying to think of a way out.
The tap room was empty, and the shutters across the windows closed so Elizabeth could not see where they were. A small, ferrety-faced man stood nervously, holding a Bible. He saw the young ladies and gave a squeak of fright. Sam glared at him. Elizabeth’s eyes flicked over the men. None of them had any weapons on them, not expecting trouble from two cowed and frightened women. Discreetly, Elizabeth squeezed Georgiana’s hands, hiding the gesture in the folds of their skirts. Be brave, her look said. I will get us out of here.
The door was held closed by a simple plank of wood. If they could reach it, they could easily be free. But they’d have to prevent the men from chasing them first. How could they do that? She scanned the room for anything that could help them as Wickham and Hughes led them towards the fireplace. And that’s when Elizabeth saw it. She moved as if to adjust her skirts and within seconds, the poker was hidden by her side.
Would it be enough? How could she take out three men with it? Or rather two. The clergyman looked more terrified than Georgiana did. Perhaps if she attacked one, the other would be too afraid to follow. And maybe she could tie him up somehow? Her hands trembled and she tightened it around the iron to calm herself.
Hughes came towards them, carrying a tray. It contained an earthenware jug and several grimy cups.
“To toast our happiness,” said Wickham with a smile. He had his back to them, looking in the mirror as he adjusted his cravat. This could be Elizabeth’s moment. Hughes placed the tray on the table and poured wine into the five cups. As he leaned over his work, Elizabeth gripped the poker.
There was a loud crash, and Hughes froze in surprise before dropping to the ground like a stone. Elizabeth stared in confusion before she noticed Georgiana standing in shock, the broken handle of the jug in her hand. Her eyes met Elizabeth’s.
Wickham was also momentarily still with surprise, but he soon sprang into action. “What have you done?” he demanded, marching towards her. He did not get very far before a clash of iron sent him joining his friend on the ground. The clergyman stared at the girls in shock.
In Want of a Wife: A Pride and Prejudice Variation Page 8
