by APRIL FLOYD
George Wickham’s face fell into a sad mask as he helped Elizabeth and her maid from the coach. “I am afraid you are mistaken, Miss Bennet. This money shall only provide a night or two of luxury for our hard work. We shall require quite a bit more before you are to take your leave, as you say.”
Elizabeth lost the last bit of control she possessed and slapped George Wickham hard across his face. Sally Younge jumped from the carriage and tore the sleeve of Elizabeth’s dress with her knife.
Eleanor screamed and Sally Younge was upon her before the maid could blink. She twisted her hands in the maid’s hair and pulled viciously until the tears flowed freely down her captive’s terrified face.
George Wickham grabbed Elizabeth’s arm and shoved her into a dark doorway of what appeared to be a flop house with unsavory characters gathered about. He marched her up a rickety flight of stairs and pushed her through a flimsy door and upon a bare mattress on the floor. Eleanor soon found herself beside her mistress.
“Stay with them, Sally, while I go and secure our room for the next few nights. I shall send Terrence to guard them as I require your services in my bedchamber this evening.”
Elizabeth and Eleanor sat up, their stomachs churning at the picture of Wickham and his dreadful companion in the throes of passion. Elizabeth spoke before the man might take his leave.
“We must not be left in such a state guarded by a man of questionable reputation, Mr. Wickham. Did you plan to gain money for us, I would think Mr. Bingley unhappy to find how we’ve been treated.”
Wickham sauntered over to her and knelt on the floor, his eyes gone soft and his voice a husky whisper. Elizabeth shuddered as his lips came close to her ear.
“Mr. Darcy is the one who shall pay my little songbird. You gave me all I need to know when you brightened about your connection to the Darcy family when first we met. Tell me, has the proud man offered for your hand?”
Elizabeth turned her head away, bent on ignoring his question. Sally approached with her knife and held the point against Elizabeth’s throat.
“If he did, we must not harm her, but if he did not, I would enjoy a moment alone to carve out an understanding with the chit.”
Elizabeth gazed into Eleanor’s eyes and swallowed the fear that consumed her. “He did, we were to meet here in London with my parents, yet they are too ill to travel. Mr. Darcy will kill you for this, surely you must understand that fact.”
Mr. Wickham stood and smirked as a bored gentleman in the grandest ballroom in London might. He pulled Sally away from Elizabeth and left the woman huddled on the floor with her maid, terrified of their circumstance.
If Elizabeth could escape this squalor, she could find Darcy House and gain the protection of the Darcy family. It did not matter she had lied about Mr. Darcy’s proposal to that animal Wickham. It mattered not that he had not offered for her yet. It had been the only way to keep Sally Younge from killing either her or the maid who trembled beside her.
Elizabeth remembered the blade Anne de Bourgh had given her. If this Terrence person, who was to guard them, tried so much as to speak to them, she would hide it in one hand and kill him if she must.
15
The Darcy carriage arrived at Netherfield hours after Elizabeth and Eleanor had been taken by Wickham. There was great shouting and trouble in the entry and Mr. Darcy warned his mother and his cousin to remain inside the carriage.
He ran up the steps and into the entry to find a driver and footman being tended by the apothecary Jones from Meryton. The men had cuts and bruises and their clothing was torn, yet they seemed well enough.
“Charles,” he called, “what has happened?”
Charles hurried down the stairs motioning for his friend and his servants to lower their voices. “Jane is just now settled upstairs and I would not have bad news delivered where she might hear it.”
Mr. Darcy followed his friend to the study, sparing a glance for the men in the entry. They must have been set upon by bandits in the road, for there was no carriage in the drive save his own.
Charles slammed a fist into the wall beside the door after Mr. Darcy entered the study and cursed terribly. Mr. Darcy had only ever heard such language from the likes of his cousin, Richard Fitzwilliam, but the colonel was a soldier and colorful language was de rigueur in his rough society of men. Mr. Darcy placed a hand on his friend’s arm, eager for news of his beloved. “Is Miss Elizabeth here?”
Mr. Bingley shook his head and spoke barely above a whisper. “Lizzy and a maid were in a post-chaise those men in the entry lost. Not far from Rosings, Elizabeth allowed a man and woman to join their party on the way to London. The man stopped the post-chaise and attacked the footman once they were a few hours down the road. He managed to knock the driver from his seat.”
Mr. Darcy tried to rush past Charles but was gripped about the shoulders and shoved against the study door. “The man was traveling with a woman who called him Wickham. The driver is certain of it.”
Mr. Darcy lunged at the mention of the vile man’s name, his anger at Elizabeth’s predicament causing all reason to leave him. Charles stepped back and held up his hands.
“I am going after them! Keep my mother and cousin safe here at Netherfield until I return with Miss Elizabeth.”
Mr. Darcy strode quickly from the study and broke into a run once he cleared the front doors of Netherfield. Mr. Bingley followed him out and went to Lady Anne as she was helped from the carriage. She held onto his arm demanding an answer for the chaos they met upon their arrival. “What has happened?”
Charles Bingley took his best friend’s mother and cousin inside Netherfield and had them sit in the parlor until Mr. Darcy had galloped away, hell bent for leather.
“Mr. Bingley, why are there injured men in your entry and why has my son alit from this house in a blind fury?”
She feared her dear friend, Miss Elizabeth, was the reason and she moved closer to her namesake on the sofa. Anne de Bourgh took her aunt’s trembling hands and held them as gently as she might. She too feared there must be some terrible tragedy and fought back tears of regret.
“Lady Anne, your son has commanded I keep the two of you safe here until he returns. Miss Elizabeth’s conveyance has been hijacked, by the reports of the driver and footman in my entryway. She has only a young maid to rely upon.”
Lady Anne rose swiftly from her seat, a hand pressed to her mouth. “It cannot be. The poor girl has only just escaped Rosings and that horrid parson. Who would do such a thing? Pray God she does not come to harm.”
Mr. Bingley came and stood beside Lady Anne for fear she might faint. Anne sobbed on the sofa, bitter tears of frustration at her inability to see Miss Elizabeth safely to her destination.
“I ought to have sent her in a carriage from Rosings with an armed driver and an array of footmen. Instead, I gave her a small knife and a purse to carry to her doom.”
Lady Anne sat again beside her niece and comforted the young woman.
“Miss Elizabeth is strong and has her wits about her. Surely with the help of the maid, she will find a way to escape her captor. William will find her, and the persons responsible will suffer greatly, on that you may depend.”
She glanced to Charles Bingley, sensing his reticence to speak further on the matter. “What more is there to tell, son? Who has taken our dear Miss Bennet?”
He paced before the ladies, his heart broken to have to speak the next words to Lady Anne. “We believe it was George Wickham and Miss Younge.”
Lady Anne fell against her niece, the wail of pain tearing from her throat causing the butler and the men in the entry to come rushing into the room.
Jane appeared behind them, her hair loose and her hand upon her middle. Charles bowed his head and prayed for the strength to tell his wife of her sister’s dire situation.
“Lady Anne, I have not prepared your rooms but I shall call for the maids to set fires in two adjoining suites,” Jane said as she hurried to her husband’s side.<
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Anne stood and Charles introduced her to Jane. “This is Miss Anne de Bourgh, she is Darcy’s cousin from Kent. I fear Lizzy was gone before Darcy arrived at Rosings.”
Lady Anne stood with the help of her niece and went to Jane. “My dear, I shall leave for London and Darcy House in the morning. You must keep Anne safe here with you and remain strong for your sister.”
Jane shook her head, her face stricken by the news of her sister’s trials. “What has happened to Lizzy?”
She turned to Charles, the tears spilling from her eyes as she stepped into his arms. He smoothed her hair and held her firmly. The child between them moved and he bit back the sorrow he shared with Jane.
“Lizzy will be home before you know it and none the worse for her ordeals. She is the strongest young woman and Mr. Darcy will see she is safe. I swear it to you.”
Charles led Jane upstairs and stayed by her side throughout the night, hoping Anne might manage to tend her aunt with the help of his servants.
He had wanted desperately to leave with Darcy, for Lizzy was his own sister now and he would do no less in securing her future than he would for Louisa or Caroline. He simply prayed through the night for Mr. Darcy and the young women held by the wicked George Wickham.
* * *
Elizabeth eyed Terrence and kept a strong grip on her knife. She stood now by the lone window with her maid speaking in hushed whispers of London and all the fine shops to maintain her own sanity as much as that of her young companion.
Being in the same city as Mr. Darcy was a torture under these circumstances and she longed to run into the night and hire a post-chaise to take them to Darcy House. But knowing London as she did from her visits over the years with the Gardiners, she and the maid must not be upon these streets after dark, not in this section of town as women alone.
Terrence slid his bulk down the wall by the door and Elizabeth released the tension in her arms and back from clenching the small dagger Anne had given her. She did not trust the man but she could not keep herself in a defensive posture for much longer without becoming useless if he approached them.
The maid was pleased to have seen Wickham and Miss Younge take their leave once Terrence was settled and had ceased with her trembling and fear. For that, Elizabeth was grateful. A clear mind would help them think of a way out of their situation.
She believed they would see no more of their captors this night, not with the purse full of money they had taken from her. She hoped they drank themselves unconscious and awoke as though a thousand horses hooves pounded through their skulls.
She glanced at the door beside Terrence who seemed about to drift off to sleep. There was the small window beside them but there was no ledge nor way down for a woman in a dress. Elizabeth would not give up.
Eleanor pulled out a small purse of coins and handed them to Elizabeth. “Tis from Miss de Bourgh, she worried that the larger purse might be lost.”
Elizabeth’s heart lifted and she helped the maid to lie down behind her on the tattered mattress and kept watch while she slept. When the weak rays of dawn pierced the gray skies of London and crept across the floor, Elizabeth moved about the room as quickly and quietly as she could.
Terrence was snoring so loudly, Elizabeth was certain he would awaken himself before much longer. She gently nudged Eleanor from her fitful dreams and hurried her to the door. If they could slip into the hallway and go slowly down the rickety steps, they could find a conveyance to take them to Darcy House. Mr. Wickham would not dare to seek them there.
Once free of the dilapidated house, Elizabeth pulled Eleanor close and with their heads down, they hurried up the street.
“Listen, Eleanor, if we are parted do you know the way to Darcy House?” The young maid nodded in agreement, fearing to even speak.
A wicked laugh found them around the first corner. “Well, see what we have here. Wickham, go finish Terrence, he has failed us one time too many.”
George Wickham began to refuse this notion but Sally Younge wanted what she wanted. Wickham took the maid with him, amidst much arguing from Miss Bennet and wretched sobbing from the maid.
Miss Younge took Elizabeth by the arm and pinched her flesh hard. “Unless you would prefer to die today, I suggest you follow my instructions. I kept you here with me to dissuade poor Wickham from his base nature. The maid won’t tempt him but he would compromise you without a second thought.”
Elizabeth could not stop the tremble that passed through her body.
“George loves beautiful young women, his desire for them has always been his downfall. Miss Darcy proved that. But she paid, she did.”
Sally’s eyes had grown brighter and her breathing increased as she spoke. Elizabeth had never been so frightened in her life. The woman was truly and completely mad!
In spite of her fear, Elizabeth asked what the woman meant, her voice coming forth hoarse from her throat. “What has Miss Darcy to do with this?”
“Let’s have an understanding, Miss Bennet. George loved Miss Darcy, much as it killed me. When she became frightened to go along with our plan, George returned her to Mr. Darcy in the hope he might seek her hand in years to come. I hated him for that! George is mine.”
Elizabeth struggled to breathe evenly. Was this woman beside her, the one who held her arm in a vise-like grip, responsible for the death of Georgiana Darcy? She found it difficult to believe every word of hatred that flowed from the woman. Surely George Wickham would not have allowed her to kill the young woman he loved?
Elizabeth took the purse Eleanor had given her and opened it quickly, causing the gold coins to clink and roll against the ground. The surprise, combined with the flash of gold in the early light, had Sally Younge on her knees scratching about on the cobblestones.
Elizabeth turned then and ran for all she was worth. She heard the woman cursing her, the pounding of her feet, the screams that rent the still morning air.
Yet she managed to escape and hid in doorways and shadows until she had come at last to a post-chaise. When she gave the name Darcy House to the driver, he hurried away, unconcerned about the payment for his services. She would send several footmen back for Eleanor.
16
Darcy rode with a fury he had held in check since the express arrived in London all those days ago. He knew he ought to have left his mother in Town and bolted on his best steed to Rosings. Elizabeth would be safe in his arms now. She would be, he was certain, for he could not live without her.
There were two men who would meet a very unhappy end once she was returned to him. Wickham would be fortunate to remain amongst the living and the parson could be removed from his living at Rosings. His aunt had made a grievous error, one she must know he would not allow to stand.
The road passed mile after mile but his anger and desire for revenge would not. He rode into Town with a singular thought in mind; he must find where his Elizabeth was being held. In a place as large as London, he would do well to seek his favorite cousin’s assistance. If there was a man George Wickham feared greater than he, it was Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam.
He rode directly to Matlock House, hoping to find his cousin. When the butler answered, he went straight to the study and began pacing about the room. Glancing to the man, he paused and spoke. “Please tell Colonel Fitzwilliam I have come.”
The butler nodded his understanding and quit the study. Darcy poured himself claret from the cart before him. He would be surprised if his mother had not left Netherfield for Darcy House after his abrupt departure. Had she heard the name Wickham connected to Miss Elizabeth’s trouble, Lady Anne Darcy would not rest until the score was settled.
He drank deeply and recalled the debacle at Ramsgate. His Georgie had been so beautiful then, so young and full of promise. Until that cad seduced her with his sweet lies. Miss Younge had participated in the deceit and Georgie had barely escaped their horrid schemes. He thought now of how the pair had stayed in Lambton well past the time they ought to have moved along.
With the large sum he had paid to keep the Ramsgate scandal secret, the peaceful Lambton should not have held them long. But it had.
He placed his cup upon the table and felt the crushing blow of Georgie’s death once more. The evil Wickham and his lady had seen Georgie about town and followed her home. All while he was away in Hertfordshire with Bingley. She had written to him of their lingering presence but he knew their mother would keep Georgie safe. Yet, he blamed himself.
And now as then, he had been too far away to offer protection when a young woman he loved dearly had been placed in harm’s way. The pain and frustration of it burned hotly as he poured himself another drink.
Colonel Fitzwilliam entered the study and stopped at the sight of his cousin in such a state. His ready tease disappeared as Mr. Darcy glanced up and fixed him with a desperate stare.
“Once again I find myself compelled to retribution by the wicked ways of George Wickham. He has kidnapped a young lady who has become a particular friend of my mother. Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn, the sister of Charles Bingley’s wife.”
Richard stood beside Mr. Darcy and sighed deeply. His levity gone, he merely shook his head. “Whatever you should require, I would supply in great measure. Especially if I am to throttle Wickham.”
Mr. Darcy explained all that had happened since Elizabeth had left Brambling after her father’s letter. And the news of her post-chaise being set upon by Wickham and Younge on the way to London. “She must be here, but where?”
Richard thought for but a moment. “The only place Wickham would hide young women in Town would be one of the flop houses by the docks. If we were to search them, I am certain we would find Miss Bennet.”
Mr. Darcy hastened from his study with Colonel Fitzwilliam only a step behind. “We shall not rest until we have searched every hole in London.”
* * *
Elizabeth arrived at Darcy House and banged upon the door until the butler answered. He took one glance at her and determined to deny her entry. She knew she must look a fright.
