Foiled Elopement: A Pride and Prejudice Variation

by Renata McMann

  Realizing Georgiana was about to confess the extent of her compromised state and how much trouble she might truly be in, Elizabeth pulled her into a hug. “They don’t need to know,” she whispered into Georgiana’s ear. “It will be alright,” she said aloud, silently cursing the girl’s corrupt governess.

  Against Elizabeth’s shoulder, Georgiana nodded. Elizabeth gave her another squeeze and let her go. Mr. Muir leaned across the table, proffering a handkerchief, which Georgiana took with a grateful, trembling smile.

  “There now, dear, we’ll think of something,” Mrs. Muir said. “Won’t we, Mr. Muir?”

  “Yes, yes, we certainly shall, Mrs. Muir.” Mr. Muir’s wide face pulled downward in thought.

  “I just want to go home,” Georgiana whispered.

  “Will you even be able to?” Miss Muir asked. “You said this brother of yours is quite proper. Will he take you back after what you’ve done?”

  Elizabeth frowned at the condemnation in Miss Muir’s tone.

  Georgiana dropped her gaze to the table again. “He will take me back. He can be aloof, but that’s just his way. He loves me.”

  Elizabeth wondered if he loved her enough to care for her if she turned out to be carrying Mr. Wickham’s child. It was obvious no love was lost between Georgiana’s brother, this Fitzwilliam, and Mr. Wickham. That, however, was for Georgiana to work out. The key was to get her away from Mr. Wickham before he forced her to wed. It was obvious being bound to him would bring a lifetime of misery to a shy, soft spoken girl like Georgiana. Elizabeth looked to Mr. Muir, finding his features still twisted in thought.

  “Perhaps the footman could remain behind and Miss Georgiana could come with us?” Elizabeth suggested tentatively.

  “Absolutely not,” Miss Muir said, clutching at her mother’s arm. “Remember what happened to Aunt Silvia? I am not riding about without proper protection.”

  Elizabeth didn’t know what happened to Miss Muir’s Aunt Silvia, or care. She could tell by the sage nods of Mr. and Mrs. Muir that they agreed. She understood their attitude. Their coachman was not young, and having one able-bodied young man did make sense.

  “Buchanan,” Mr. Muir called toward the bar.

  Setting down a glass and his towel, Mr. Buchanan hurried over. “Can I help you, Mr. Muir?”

  “Tell me about the stage that stops at the Red Lion. We saw it on the way in. Is it always that late? Are there others?”

  “No sir, not usually,” Mr. Buchanan said. “The northbound, the one you saw, usually arrives midafternoon. It was late today because it lost a wheel and couldn’t continue to Scotland. The southbound arrives about an hour later.”

  “Is it always as full as we saw today?” Elizabeth asked, recalling the mass of people disembarking from every inch of the coach.

  Mr. Buchanan nodded. “The inside seats are generally taken this time of year. Usually, there aren’t even outsides seats left.” He frowned, looking between Elizabeth and Georgiana. “Do you mean to take the coach, miss? It’s not what I’d call safe for a well-bred lady alone.” Even if it were safe, Georgiana was unlikely to have the strength to resist Mr. Wickham, especially if she had to wait a day for a seat on the stage.

  “No, but thank you for your concern,” Elizabeth said.

  Georgiana stared at her hands.

  “Yes, thank you,” Mr. Muir said.

  “Happy to be of service.” Mr. Buchanan nodded and went back to the bar.

  “Mr. Wickham has seats for us on the northbound stage,” Georgiana said in her quite voice, once Mr. Buchanan was back behind the bar.

  “Even if there is space, putting you on the southbound stage wouldn’t help,” Mr. Muir said, his frown back. “That Mr. Wickham’s no fool. If you aren’t on the northbound stage, he won’t take it, and he’ll watch the southbound like a hawk, waiting for you to try to board.”

  “We could make sure she gets on it, and he doesn’t,” Elizabeth said. “I could go with her. We’d be safe enough together.”

  Mr. Muir was shaking his head. “How would we accomplish that? We’re not going to restrain the man. We can’t be brawling in the streets.”

  “And if there’s rarely one seat, well, we can hardly expect two, can we?” Mrs. Muir asked.

  “I don’t care if we can or not,” Miss Muir said, sounding alarmed. “We can’t afford to wait until afternoon to leave. I need time to get ready for the wedding. There’s hardly enough time as it is. We’d lose nearly a day, assuming there’s anywhere to stay the night if we set out that late.”

  “Can’t I come with you?” Georgiana pleaded, raising weepy eyes to Mrs. Muir. “Please, I won’t be any trouble.”

  “I’m sure you wouldn’t be, dear, but we can’t fit you into our carriage,” Mrs. Muir said, not unsympathetically. “There simply isn’t room. And Phoebe is correct, we can’t really stay an extra day.”

  Elizabeth looked about the table. No one offered anything else by way of a solution. Beside her, Georgiana wept in silence. All Elizabeth could see was one of her younger sisters in such a predicament. She’d like to think someone would help.

  Elizabeth took a deep breath. Only one solution presented itself to her. She’d be a coward not to offer it. “I will stay here.”

  Chapter Three – Plans Laid

  Four sets of eyes turned to stare at Elizabeth with varying degrees of surprise. She shrugged. “I can give Georgiana my place in the carriage. It’s not as if I’m in danger of being carted off to Scotland and forced to wed anyone.”

  “You could ruin your reputation,” Miss Muir said, aghast.

  “Better a ruined reputation than a ruined life.” Even the little she’d seen of Mr. Wickham assured Elizabeth that a ruined life was exactly what Georgiana would have with him as her husband.

  “She made her bed,” Miss Muir said. “She should lie in it.”

  “Phoebe Marie Muir,” Mrs. Muir said. “Just because you haven’t made any terrible mistakes in your life, doesn’t permit you to be intolerant of those who have. Miss Georgiana made a mistake and is courageously trying to correct it. Have some pity.”

  “Why? No one else here has made such an abysmal error,” Miss Muir said, her temper rising. “Neither my wedding preparations nor Miss Elizabeth’s reputation should have to suffer for what Miss Georgiana has done.”

  “Lower your voice, dear,” Mrs. Muir said, her tone mild again. “And don’t be so sure of yourself. Everyone makes mistakes.” She and Mr. Muir exchanged a look of wry amusement.

  “Well, I haven’t, and Miss Elizabeth hasn’t.”

  “Oh?” Mrs. Muir raised her eyebrows. “I seem to recall a girl of fourteen who kissed one of the stable boys.”

  Miss Muir’s eyes widened, her face turning red. “I didn’t think you knew.”

  Mr. Muir snorted. “Knew, and found him another position, far from you, girl.”

  Georgiana didn’t look up, but Elizabeth thought she saw a slight smile in her lips.

  “I truly could remain here,” Elizabeth said. “The innkeeper seems helpful, and the establishment pleasant and well kept. I suspect arrangements could be made. I’ll write my father and Uncle Gardiner. One of them will come for me.”

  “Oh no, dear, that wouldn’t be right,” Mrs. Muir said. “We promised we would take care of you.”

  “Suppose I promise to disappear for a few hours tomorrow?” Elizabeth said. “With Miss Muir’s rigorous schedule, you would have to leave without me, in which case you may as well take Miss Georgiana.”

  Mr. Muir heaved a sigh. “I suppose we must delay the wedding. I can write to your betrothed and explain what’s happened, Phoebe.”

  “But Papa, you know that won’t work,” Miss Muir wailed. “Uncle Muir made arrangements for someone to take over his business so he can attend the wedding. He couldn’t change the day. And Aunt Silvia is returning home with a group of three carriages, since her recent experience frightened her.”

  Mr. and Mrs. Muir exchanged a glance.


  “You are right. Changing the day would inconvenience many people,” Mr. Muir said.

  “Please, Miss Muir is correct,” Georgiana said. “I created this difficulty for myself. I won’t permit it to interfere with her wedding.”

  Miss Muir’s triumphant look only doubled Elizabeth’s resolve to help Georgiana. “I will remain so Miss Georgiana may travel with you. That’s all there is to it. If you don’t agree, I’ll simply hide until you leave with her.”

  Mr. Muir studied Elizabeth’s set features. Finally, he nodded. “Buchanan,” he called again.

  The innkeeper hurried over. “Yes, Mr. Muir?”

  “We’re going to leave Miss Bennet behind when we go tomorrow morning. Her family will be coming for her. I know it’s too late to place her this evening, but is there a family we could leave her with, where her reputation will be safe?”

  Mr. Buchanan frowned, his gaze going around the table. “I don’t mean to pry, Mr. Muir, but that’s a fairly large request. May I inquire why you would leave Miss Bennet behind? Has she committed a transgression?”

  “Heavens no,” Mrs. Muir said, looking startled. “Miss Bennet is a sweet girl. We’ve nothing but good to say about her.”

  “It’s my fault,” Georgiana said, her features showing resolve. “I let Mr. Wickham talk me into eloping, only now I realize it was a terrible mistake. I can’t keep him from taking me to Scotland and marrying me. He won’t listen to a word I say, and I’ve no money, and no one to turn to, except Miss Elizabeth. She offered to stay so the Muirs can take me away from him, and you must help, please. Don’t make me marry that man.” Her resolve crumbled, tears overtaking her.

  Mr. Buchanan stared down at Georgiana, looking both startled and concerned.

  “You see, the Muirs need the room in their carriage,” Elizabeth clarified, putting an arm about Georgiana. “So, they may take Miss Georgiana. I mean to remain behind to give her my place, and send for my family to retrieve me. It might not be too bad, if the trip could be done in a day, but it can’t.”

  “I see,” Mr. Buchanan said. He rocked back on his heels, looking a bit bereft. “Let me ask my wife.”

  Elizabeth would have detained him, not wanting news of Georgiana’s circumstance spread, but he hurried away. In truth, she wouldn’t have admitted Georgiana had eloped at all. The girl’s lack of sense and willingness to trust people was endearing, but disheartening. Obviously, she’d lived a sheltered life and should not be out in the world.

  They sat in an awkward silence, but the circumstance didn’t last long. Mr. Buchanan returned with a short, rosy-faced woman. “This is my wife, Mrs. Buchanan.”

  “Mr. Buchanan told me what this is about,” she said. “That Mr. Wickham, is it, trying to take advantage of this poor girl?” She gestured to Georgiana, who was looking down again. “I can’t say I like him. Not from the moment I spied him through the kitchen door. He’s a scoundrel if ever there was one. Written all over his face, it is.”

  “So, you know a place I may stay?” Elizabeth asked.

  Mrs. Buchanan shook her head. “Can’t say as I do.”

  “What about the Davies?” Mr. Buchanan said.

  “Once they learn why Miss Bennet remained, they’ll turn her out. They’re very straight-laced and won’t participate in stopping a marriage. From their point of view, Miss Georgiana’s made her decision and must live by it.”

  Miss Muir gave a sniff, shooting the rest of them a triumphant look.

  Georgiana sniffed too, but to hold back more tears.

  Mrs. Buchanan shook her head. “I’m sorry to say it, but anyone I can think of with room doesn’t have a proper chaperone, or has that sickness that’s been going around, or, well, wouldn’t agree to it. She’ll have to stay here and share a bed with Jenny.”

  “Jenny?” Elizabeth asked.

  “Our daughter. She’s thirteen. Ever since her sisters married and moved away, we let her have a lock on the door. Some so-called gentlemen don’t believe a girl when she says no. You can’t stay alone in one of the guest rooms, Miss Bennet. I can’t think of anyone to hire as a chaperone for you. Even if I could, it’s not good for your reputation, an inn room.”

  Mr. Buchanan was nodding along with his wife’s words. His face brightened. “If you play the pianoforte for two or three hours every evening, we won’t charge you for staying with Jenny.”

  Elizabeth hadn’t expected she would have to pay to share a bed with their daughter. Suddenly, she hoped she could afford to remain until her father or uncle arrived.

  “We won’t charge you for the room and we’ll provide breakfast,” Mrs. Buchanan said with greater generosity, likely reading the worry on Elizabeth’s face.

  Mr. and Mrs. Muir exchanged a glance.

  “Let me examine the room,” Mrs. Muir said, standing.

  “This way.” Mrs. Buchanan led Mrs. Muir away.

  “Buchanan, a word,” Mr. Muir said, getting up. “Promised my friend Gardiner to look after his niece. Promised her father, too.”

  The innkeeper nodded. The two men retreated to the bar to speak in low voices.

  Miss Muir leaned across the table toward Elizabeth. “You really mean to do this?” she whispered.

  Georgiana looked back and forth between them, her eyes wide.

  Chapter Four – Elopement Foiled

  Elizabeth reached out and patted Georgiana’s tightly clasped hands reassuringly. “Yes, I really mean to do this.”

  “You don’t even know her,” said Miss Muir.

  Georgiana’s cheeks colored.

  “I know enough about her, and Mr. Wickham, to see Georgiana shouldn’t bind herself to that man for the remainder of her days,” Elizabeth said firmly.

  Miss Muir stared at her for a long moment. Finally, she shrugged. “Well, if you’re going to attempt this, you may want to consider how she’ll manage to sneak out of her room come morning.”

  Georgiana looked up, startled. Panic formed in her eyes. She turned to Elizabeth.

  Elizabeth frowned. “Is Mr. Wickham a heavy sleeper?”

  “She shouldn’t admit to knowing that,” Miss Muir hissed. “It implies she’s done more than just run off with him.”

  Georgiana’s face turned a deep red. Miss Muir gave her a disgusted look.

  “Is he a heavy sleeper?” Elizabeth repeated.

  “Yes. Especially . . . that is, he’ll be well into his cups, I imagine, by the time he returns.”

  Elizabeth had expected as much. Few men gambled sober. “Then we shall remain here until after he’s gone to sleep.” She turned to Miss Muir. “Georgiana won’t go to the room, so she won’t need to sneak out. After he goes up, she can go to your room, and I will go to Jenny’s.”

  Miss Muir shrugged, giving Georgiana a flat look. “I suppose that’s fine. Even if my parents wish to go to sleep, we’ll be safe enough here.” She gestured to the room.

  Elizabeth hadn’t noticed, but most of the patrons had left during their discussion, leaving the room nearly empty. There was only Buchanan and Mr. Muir near the bar, and the two gentlemen playing backgammon on the other side of the room.

  “If that’s the plan, we should find some way to pass the time,” Elizabeth said. Her eyes fell on the pianoforte. “I may as well practice while there are few people about to be annoyed by my attempts.”

  Georgiana looked back and forth between Elizabeth and Miss Muir. “If I might use some drawing supplies, I could draw you, Miss Elizabeth?” Her tone was tentative.

  “So long as you don’t mind if I play while you do so.” Elizabeth looked to Miss Muir, who must be the source as Elizabeth didn’t draw.

  “Yes, I’ll fetch some,” Miss Muir said, standing. She looked down at Georgiana and sighed. “You better come with me. Before that Mr. Wickham returns, you’ll want to pack your things and put them by the door. I’m sure we can slip them out quietly enough come morning. Removing them now would give even a drunkard pause.”

  “Yes, thank you.” Georgiana cast Eli
zabeth a worried look and followed Miss Muir away.

  Elizabeth returned to the pianoforte to practice, sorting the pieces by difficulty and selecting some that she could sing to while she played. She knew her voice was on par with her playing, inoffensive but nothing to heap praises on. She hoped, and assumed, her efforts would be acceptable for the few evenings she would be at the inn.

  Miss Muir and Georgiana returned a short time later with drawing supplies, and both sat nearby to draw Elizabeth. When Mrs. Muir returned, she reported Jenny and her room suitable. Bidding the three young women goodnight, the elder Muirs went to bed.

  Mrs. Buchanan went to bed, but Mr. Buchanan and the two backgammon players stayed. Elizabeth was getting tired and began making more and more mistakes in her playing. Eventually, Mr. Wickham came back. Georgiana, who’d been engrossed in her drawing, shrank back when he leaned over her, swaying on his feet.

  “Good news, Sweetie,” he said. “I won tonight. I’m four shillings ahead. Come to bed. We can celebrate.”

  She cringed and shook her head.

  “All right. We’ll celebrate tomorrow, when we’re married. You won’t be able to say no then.” He gave her a leer and left the room.

  The three of them remained in the common room for a short while longer. By the time they went up, Elizabeth felt asleep on her feet. She quickly packed up the few belongings she had unpacked. Georgiana helped her carry them to Jenny’s room, both tiptoeing down the hall as silently as they could. A sleep-befuddled Jenny unlocked her room to let them carry the case in. When that was done, Elizabeth walked Georgiana back to Miss Muir’s room.

  Georgiana paused outside the door, turning to Elizabeth. “I don’t know how to ever thank you,” she whispered.

  “You don’t have to. Anyone can see you can’t be with him.” Elizabeth wondered if she would ever see Georgiana without tears streaming down her cheeks, or ever again, for that matter.