Mrs Bennet leaned forward eagerly. “Is your brother at Meryton, my dear? Returned to Netherfield with Mr Bingley, perhaps?”
Georgiana gave a single sharp shake of her head, and declared “No, my brother remains in London.”
“That’s right, you said that you were meeting your fiancé in Meryton!” Sensing juicy gossip, and perhaps a scoop, for certainly nobody in Meryton had spoken of Miss Darcy being engaged to anyone, Mrs Bennet leaned forward eagerly. “Who is your fiancé, my dear? We know everyone in Meryton…”
“He is Lieutenant George Wickham.”
Ringing silence greeted that declaration; even Mary, who had lost interest in the conversation, lowered her book and stared at Georgiana goggle-eyed.
Elizabeth was sure that her expression was even more shocked than Mary’s. Something is not right here, was all she could think. How can Miss Darcy be engaged to someone her brother hates so much, someone who was denied his very birthright by Mr Darcy? Surely Georgiana Darcy was not old enough to marry without her brother’s permission, even; Elizabeth tried to remember if Mr Darcy or Miss Bingley had ever stated Georgiana’s age. Miss Bingley had asked if she was ‘much grown’ which Elizabeth had taken to mean that Georgiana must still be in her teens, and certainly she did not look any older than eighteen or thereabouts, despite a womanly, well-grown figure.
“Mr Wickham!” Mrs Bennet recovered from the second shock in the space of a few minutes with admirable speed. “You are engaged to Mr Wickham; well, what a charming couple you will make! How long have you been acquainted, my dear?”
“All my life,” Georgiana said softly, a fond smile touching her lips. “George grew up at Pemberley too, but I had not seen him in some years when we encountered each other again this past summer, when I was staying with friends in Ramsgate.”
“A seaside romance, how delightful! I am sure that I should love the seaside, I have always longed to try sea-bathing.” Mrs Bennet’s gaze slid to Elizabeth, and to her surprise she read concern in her mother’s expression. Perhaps Mrs Bennet also sensed something seriously amiss about Georgiana’s story. “And when is the wedding to be, my dear?”
“Soon,” Georgiana said a little curtly, before abruptly changing the subject. “Do tell me of Meryton, Mrs Bennet. George tells me it is a charming place.”
That is a lie, Elizabeth thought. She could not believe that Mr Darcy would allow Wickham to correspond with his sister, much less be betrothed to her! Of one thing about Mr Darcy she was quite certain, which was that he was truly fond of his sister. The affection in his voice when he spoke of her and the dedication with which he had applied himself to writing to her had made his devotion quite evident.
Mrs Bennet was expounding on the beauties of Meryton, waxing lyrical about all the people Georgiana would meet. “We dine with quite four and twenty families!” she declared, making Elizabeth wince, though Georgiana only nodded with a polite smile. The girl did have impeccable manners, even if she was lying about her real reasons for going to Meryton.
“I am not quite sure where Mr Wickham is billeted, I must confess,” Mrs Bennet said then, “so I think it best if we take you to Colonel Forster’s house. He is in command of the regiment, my dear; he will know exactly where Wickham is to be found.”
Georgiana did not look terribly pleased by this news, but she did not claim that she knew where Wickham’s rooms were - which gave the lie to her having received correspondence from him, Elizabeth thought, otherwise she would offer up his direction from a letter.
Elizabeth had never before been so grateful for Mrs Bennet’s ability to rattle on about nothing in particular, because her prattle covered the awkward silence which would otherwise surely have fallen and gave Elizabeth time to think. Taking Georgiana to Colonel Forster was the best option at the present time, Elizabeth determined; at least in the Colonel’s presence Wickham’s behaviour must necessarily be constrained. Surely Wickham must needs have the permission of his commanding officer to marry, anyway… and his courtship of Mary King, remarked on of late by everyone in Meryton, was hardly a point in his favour. Secret betrothals were all very well in Minerva Press novels, much like elopements to Gretna Green, but Elizabeth was well aware such activities were rather frowned upon by polite society, and how much more shocking would they be considered in the refined circles which the Darcys normally frequented?
The carriage halted briefly, John calling that they must needs pause to light the lamps. Mrs Bennet took the opportunity to open the door and call to John that he must stop in Meryton at Colonel Forster’s house before going on to Longbourn, to deliver their passenger.
It was growing quite cold and Elizabeth felt Georgiana shiver beside her as Mrs Bennet pulled the door closed again. The girl’s dress was expensive, but rather thin, and it had become quite wet through when she was caught in the rain. There were no more blankets, though, and nothing Elizabeth could do but sit a little closer to try and share her own warmth.
A little while later, the carriage halted once more, and John opened the door. “Here we are, miss,” he said gruffly, extending a hand to help Georgiana down, but Mrs Bennet was ahead of her.
“Thank you, John. We shall all go in for a little while.”
“We need to be gettin’ home, ma’am, the master will be worrit…”
Mrs Bennet waved him to silence, alighting from the carriage and waving the girls to follow her. Mary looked as though she would rather stay, but it was really quite cold, and there was no longer enough light to read by. Sighing, she followed Georgiana out, and Elizabeth brought up the rear.
Colonel Forster’s house was a cottage on the main street of Meryton, a cottage which Elizabeth knew was actually rather bigger on the inside than it appeared. Georgiana’s eyes were very round as she looked at the small house, and she followed Mrs Bennet with dragging steps as she bustled up to the front door and rapped on it.
She has likely never set foot inside a house so small in her life, Elizabeth thought, unless it is a tenant’s cottage on her brother’s estate. And this is the home of a Colonel, whereas Wickham is a mere Lieutenant.
The single maid the Forsters kept opened the door, looking at Mrs Bennet in surprise for such a late call.
“Is the Colonel home?” Mrs Bennet asked, smiling as the man himself came to the door. “Colonel Forster! I do apologise for the unexpected call at such an hour.”
“Not at all,” the colonel said gallantly, “pray, do come in, Mrs Bennet… Miss Elizabeth… Miss Mary.” He raised his brows at Georgiana. Mrs Bennet made no attempt to introduce her.
“Might I have a private word with you, Colonel?”
“Of course,” he gestured her to enter the tiny room he used as a private study, leaving the three young women standing in the hallway, just as his young wife came out of the parlour to see what was going on.
“Miss Elizabeth,” she said with a gleeful smile. “Do tell me that Lydia is with you!” She craned her neck to look past Mary and Georgiana.
“I am afraid not, Mrs Forster.” Elizabeth was not quite sure what to say; introducing Georgiana was clearly something to be avoided, especially with a young women who liked to gossip as much as Mrs Forster did. Fortunately the silly young woman didn’t seem to care, turning on her heel with a;
“I suppose you’d best come into the parlour, then,” thrown carelessly over her shoulder. “Though I do hope you are not staying for dinner, because there will not be nearly enough. Do you know Captain Carter and Major Woakes?”
The two officers had obviously come to dine with the Forsters; they both rose from their seats to greet Elizabeth politely. She was saved from having to introduce Georgiana, who had made straight for the fire and was standing before it shivering, by Colonel Forster coming in and asking the two men to go with him. They promptly made their apologies and followed their commanding officer, leaving Mrs Forster pouting at their departure.
“What a bore!” Mrs Forster sighed, throwing herself negligently onto a chaise.
“I do hope they will not be long.”
Silence fell; Mary and Elizabeth looked at each other uncertainly. Neither of them were inclined to talk to the colonel’s silly young wife at the best of times, but the way Georgiana stood with her back to them, huddled towards the flames, did not invite conversation either.
The silence was broken by a sudden great clatter of hooves outside. Biting her lip, Elizabeth tried to peep through a gap between the poorly-made drapes, but it was far too dark outside now to see anything clearly.
“Oh Lord, now what?” Mrs Forster sighed petulantly, pushing herself up out of her chair, but long before she reached the parlour door there were loud voices in the hall and the door was thrown open to admit Mr Darcy to the room, followed by an unknown gentleman.
CHAPTER FIVE
“Where is she?” Darcy demanded, fully intent on putting Georgiana across his knee and paddling her bottom like the child she was behaving. Since the realisation that morning that she was nowhere to be found, the frantic search of her room that eventually turned up a note beneath her pillow - addressed to her companion, Mrs Annesley, not even to him! - he had conceived of a dozen ways to dispose of Wickham without a trace. Colonel Fitzwilliam had insisted on coming along, though Darcy was not quite sure if his cousin was there to dissuade him from murder or to help him hide the body.
The last person Darcy had expected to come face to face with in Colonel Forster’s house was Elizabeth Bennet. Yet there she was, not more than a step away from him, turning to face him with her magnificent dark eyes wide and her lips parting, obviously surprised to see him.
“You!” he exclaimed, and then looking past her to see Georgiana staring at him with a combination of fright and defiance on her face, he jumped to an utterly irrational and erroneous conclusion. “I should have known that you would somehow be mixed up in this!”
Astonished, Elizabeth blinked. “I, Mr Darcy? Whatever do you mean?”
“You have taken his side from the beginning, but by what means did he convince you to aid and abet him in this matter? My sister has done nothing to you; why would you aid Wickham in such a nefarious plan? Do you hate me so much?”
He had taken a great stride forward, was looming over her, his hands coming up to grasp her shoulders and shake her lightly. In utter incomprehension and a degree of fright, Elizabeth cried;
“I do not know of what you speak, Mr Darcy, but I pray that you will unhand me at once!”
“Darcy!” His cousin grasped his arm, pulled at him. “Darcy, what are you doing?”
“She helped Wickham. She helped him get a message to Georgiana,” Darcy was not thinking straight, too panicked and wearied by the long fast ride from London, coming straight to Meryton in the hopes that Wickham would still be here and that he and Georgiana were not meeting somewhere on the road to Gretna Green. “How else would Georgiana have known where to find him?”
“You told me yourself!”
Georgiana’s shriek halted Darcy’s rant.
“What?” Letting go of a stunned Elizabeth at last, he turned towards his sister. “I did no such thing!”
“I heard you. Last night. You and Cousin Fitz, talking.” She was shaking from a combination of rage and cold. “You said that he was in Hertfordshire, near Bingley’s estate. I found the name of the town easily enough in your letters to me.”
Darcy hardly knew what to say. Staring at Georgiana, he just shook his head slowly, unable to comprehend how she had come to be here in Elizabeth’s company. “How… how then…”
“We encountered Miss Darcy getting off the post-coach in Hatfield,” Mary was the one to speak, “and chanced to hear her trying to hire a hack-chaise to Meryton. Mama out of Christian charity chose to offer to take her up with us and bring her here, on our way home to Longbourn.” Her words were quite sharply pointed; Mary was most displeased to see a man dare to lay hands upon her sister so roughly, most especially since Elizabeth was innocent of any wrong-doing!
“You took the post?” Darcy and Fitzwilliam both shouted in horror at the same time, turning on Georgiana. She shrank back from them and burst into noisy tears.
“How else could I get here, to the man I love? I’m going to marry Wickham, and you will not stop me!” she cried, between loud sobs.
“Marry Wickham?” expostulated Mrs Forster, who up until then had been watching in fascinated silence. “You? But he is engaged to Miss Mary King!”
Georgiana turned ash-pale and swayed on her feet. Colonel Fitzwilliam caught her arm in a steadying grasp.
“Engaged to… you said nothing of this!” she wailed, turning tear-brimmed blue eyes to Elizabeth.
“Because I did not know of it! When did this happen?” Elizabeth begged of Mrs Forster.
“Why, just this afternoon,” Mrs Forster looked delighted to be the bearer of such a juicy tidbit of news. “I did not witness the proposal itself, naturally, but Wickham asked my dear husband for permission first and the Colonel was happy to give his agreement. And later Miss King told all of us the happy news while we were gathered for tea at Mrs Phillips’ house.” She cocked her head with an inquisitive little smile. “But I do not quite see how he can be engaged to Miss King if he is already betrothed to you, Miss…?”
“He is not betrothed to her,” Darcy said sharply as Georgiana burst into genuine tears, turning to Colonel Fitzwilliam and pressing her face against his coat. “He never was and he never will be, and I severely pity Miss King if she goes through marrying the blackguard!”
The parlour door reopened at that very moment, Colonel Forster gesturing Mrs Bennet to precede him into the room. They both stopped in startlement on seeing the parlour’s extra inhabitants.
“Mr Darcy!” the Colonel, however bluff and genial he might appear, was an experienced military man accustomed to adapting to unexpected surprises. He strode forward, offering his hand, glancing at Georgiana sobbing in Colonel Fitzwilliam’s arms. “I… think it might be best if we have a word in my study, hmm?”
“I am not letting my sister out of my sight until I am assured that blackguard cannot come anywhere near her!” Darcy declared forcefully.
Colonel Forster looked at his wife, sitting almost on the edge of her seat in a stark contrast to her normally languid posture, her eyes wide with fascination, and sighed. “Go upstairs, Harriet, and wait for me there. No,” when she would have protested. “We will speak of this later, but what I have to say next is not your business.” He waited until she had flounced from the room, closing the door behind her, before speaking again.
“Lieutenant Wickham will certainly not be joining us, Mr Darcy. I have sent two of my men to find him and escort him to his quarters, should he not be in them already. They will keep him there until I send for them.”
“Darcy,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said in low tones, “now what?”
He had honestly not thought past this point. All of his energies had been focused on intercepting Georgiana before Wickham somehow compromised her irrevocably. Finding her before she had even managed to get into his presence was a stroke of luck far beyond what he had dared hope for.
“I… don’t know,” Darcy said, realising that he had absolutely no idea what they should do next. They had come on horseback for speed, and he could hardly throw Georgiana over the back of his horse and gallop back to London, even if it were not far too dark and his horse too weary to make such an attempt.
“Mr Darcy,” Mrs Bennet said, and he steeled himself for whatever nonsensical thing the woman was about to say, “Might I possibly offer the hospitality of Longbourn, for the night at least? We would be honoured to have Miss Darcy and yourself stay with us.”
“Yes, yes,” Colonel Forster agreed hastily. “We have no spare rooms here, I am afraid, and the inn is not at all suitable, not for gentlefolk such as yourself and your sister. Longbourn will be much better, I believe.”
Darcy hesitated, and Elizabeth recalled that he had never actually visited Longbourn. He probably envisions some mean lit
tle hovel, she thought angrily.
“You need not fear that Miss Darcy will be forced to share a room with one of my sisters, Mr Darcy,” she said coldly. “Longbourn has guest rooms to spare, though it is nothing to Pemberley, I am sure.”
Darcy looked quite startled; Mrs Bennet hissed “Elizabeth!” in sharp displeasure before turning back to Darcy.
“Please, I implore you. I was concerned for Georgiana from the moment we first saw her getting wet in the rain in Hatfield and then when we heard her story… I knew something was not right.”
Darcy looked down at Mrs Bennet, at the earnestly concerned expression she wore, and for the first time he saw not a silly woman, but a mother of five daughters.
“Mrs Bennet, I am already deeply indebted to you for your consideration for my sister. I should be honoured to accept your invitation to Longbourn, though I must offer my deepest apologies for the imposition.” Bowing, he forced a small smile.
Elizabeth gaped at Darcy; she had never heard him use such a respectful tone to anyone, had doubted him even capable of such. But then, she supposed, he was in a quite untenable position at this moment, his young sister having run away from home to go to a man who was engaged to another woman. The scandal, should it get out, could ruin Miss Darcy’s reputation in Society irrevocably. Whatever Elizabeth thought of Mr Darcy, she would not wish such a fate upon a young girl. Surely Miss Darcy had enough to put up with already, considering her brother’s autocratic and arrogant attitude. An eventual marriage to escape her brother’s control must be the best outcome for Miss Darcy.
Mrs Bennet smiled, clapped her hands together briskly. “It is all settled, then. Let us be off; it is quite late and Mr Bennet will be wondering whatever has become of us.”
“Ah, Mrs Bennet,” Darcy suddenly remembered himself, “may I present my cousin, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam. Fitz, this is Mrs Bennet, who has most graciously offered us the hospitality of her home at Longbourn for the night, and her daughters Miss Elizabeth Bennet and Miss, er…” For the life of him he could not remember Mary’s name. He froze completely, Elizabeth cast him another look of utter disgust, and Mrs Bennet blessedly came to his rescue.
A Christmas Miracle At Longbourn (The Darcy And Lizzy Miracles Book 1) Page 3
