Fitzwilliam Darcy, Guardian

by Jennifer Joy

  True to her word, Elizabeth kept up.

  All of the inn’s upstairs windows were dark, but Wickham would not be sleeping. If he was there. He might already be in a coach carrying him away from Derbyshire.

  Flinging his horse’s reins around a post, Darcy charged inside. Wickham sat at a table with four other men, empty glasses, piled banknotes, and scattered coins surrounding them. He jolted to attention so quickly, he upset his chair when Darcy burst into the taproom.

  “Give her back!” Darcy demanded.

  “Give who back?” Wickham asked, righting his chair and stuffing the banknotes in front of him in his pocket.

  Darcy charged toward Wickham, grabbing him by the collar. The ne’er-do-well wreaked of spirits. “Anne! Where is she?”

  Wickham’s eyes widened. Even drunk, he was an amazing actor. He always had been. "I do not know what you are talking about, but if you have lost my child, then it is I who ought to be making demands and accusations. Call the magistrate to arrest this man!" he demanded of nobody in particular.

  Not one man moved. They huddled together on the opposite side of the table.

  Darcy was not intimidated. "You kidnapped her. You could not find a nurse, and you took matters into your own hands before Mr. Hanslock could stop you. Where are you hiding her?" He raised his fist.

  Wickham shrank in Darcy’s hand, his eyes wide and wild. "I swear on my life I do not have her. You have to believe me, Darcy."

  "Why should I ever believe you?" Darcy seethed.

  "Look in my room. Search all of my possessions. Ask these men if I have been here all night."

  Darcy looked at the men grouped around the table. They all shook their heads enthusiastically.

  A voice from the top of the stairs exclaimed, "Good God, Darcy, what has happened? You look like the devil."

  Mr. Gardiner stood at the top of the landing in his night cap and robe. Mrs. Gardiner stood behind him, one hand over her mouth and the other gripping her husband’s arm.

  Darcy lowered his fist. He did, however, push Wickham away, sending him sprawling over the floor.

  While Darcy was disinclined to trust Wickham’s word, he was not completely without reason. Anne would have cried by now. Someone would have noticed her if she were in the building. Had Wickham meant to kidnap her, Darcy would not have found him at leisure, playing cards at the inn.

  Elizabeth asked her uncle, “Have you noticed anything untoward tonight? Anne is gone. Kidnapped.”

  Mr. Gardiner shook his head. “I only retired an hour ago, and I can assure you that until the time I entered my room, Mr. Wickham was in the taproom with these men.”

  Mrs. Gardiner stepped out from behind him. “Who is Anne?”

  Darcy answered, “She is my niece. Georgiana’s child. I promised my sister I would take care of her; that I would protect her child from this man.”

  “How can we help you?” asked Mr. Gardiner, taking off his cap and smoothing his hair.

  Freed from Darcy's hold, Wickham staggered to his feet. Pulling a flask from his waistcoat pocket, he tossed back a heavy dose of its contents. In a more courageous tone, he said, "I see what is happening. You are hiding her from me so you do not have to hand her over on the morrow. You took everything from me, and now I will take everything from you. Pemberley is as good as mine."

  Darcy ignored him. He had more urgent matters on his mind than Wickham’s threats. What was Pemberley if his family was not complete?

  Elizabeth, however, was not done with the ingrate. "Have you no pride? No honor? Your daughter is lost, kidnapped, and you do nothing to find her? You would rather breathe threats? Did you even bother to hire a nurse for your daughter?" she hissed.

  Wickham’s lack of a reply made Darcy sick.

  They searched Wickham’s room, and when the groom confirmed that no horse or carriage had passed him that evening bearing Wickham either to or from Pemberley, Darcy and Elizabeth had no alternative but to return to Pemberley.

  As impossible as it was for anyone other than Wickham to have taken Anne, that was precisely what had happened.

  Where was Anne?

  Chapter 31

  Elizabeth shivered in her damp redingote. The gown she had been wearing since the day before clung to her legs, tripping her whenever she dismounted her horse to walk. She clenched her teeth together lest William saw them chatter. He would send her back to Pemberley to warm herself, and Elizabeth would not have it. Not when he had to be every bit as cold and miserable as she was. Until they found Anne, there was no excuse to give up their search.

  If Anne was in the vicinity of Pemberley, they would find her. Riders had been sent to make inquiries farther down the roads. Neighbors Elizabeth had yet to meet offered their assistance. Loudest among them was Mrs. Bamber and her tribe of nine children. On leaving the inn, Elizabeth and William had ridden in the direction of Mrs. Bamber’s house. They had met her on the path, walking like a general charging into battle with her troops trailing behind her. She had heard the news.

  “I will find her,” she repeated with such a fierce look and harsh tone, Elizabeth doubted Mrs. Bamber spoke of the baby.

  “What do you know?” William had asked.

  “I know nothing, and that is the truth of it. But Lord help her if I find her.” She continued walking, the unstoppable determination on her face firmly in place.

  Several times, Elizabeth tried to extract more information, but Mrs. Bamber marched onward like a horse wearing blinkers.

  William, knowing his time was better spent elsewhere, rode from cluster to cluster of searchers.

  That had been hours ago, and Elizabeth had lost Mrs. Bamber in the crowd of helpers. The sun rose, and while it did not warm their backs, it illuminated their path. It did not, however, light their way to Anne.

  Elizabeth saw William near a copse of trees, and she rode to him. Her fingers were so cold, it was painful to move them over the reins. She prayed Anne was warm.

  “Any news?” she asked, the slump in William’s shoulders dashing her hope before he said a word.

  He ran his hand over his face. “No. Let us ride to the house. Perhaps they have had better success.”

  What if they did not find Anne? What if they did find her only to have Wickham take her away that same day? Elizabeth acknowledged the helplessness of their situation, but she refused to bow before it. The blow to William would be irreparable, and she loved him too much to allow it.

  Shouts of “Anne!” echoed over the fields. They would find her. They had to find her. The kindness of their servants and neighbors, their tireless efforts to help them find a babe they did not know existed until that day, gave Elizabeth heart. She said, “All these people have been so generous helping us. We should offer them something to eat.”

  “I have already asked Mrs. Reynolds to open the kitchens.”

  Elizabeth was not surprised William had already seen to the needs of others. He always did.

  They rode silently, too tired and discouraged to pretend cheer. Elizabeth’s humor failed her. If this was what life was like without Anne, Elizabeth would fight tooth and nail to keep Wickham from taking her away … if they found her.

  Maybe better news awaited them at the house. She clung to the possibility.

  An elegant carriage sat in the drive. Elizabeth did not recognize it, but given William’s open mouth, he clearly did.

  “What? Who is it?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “I told her she could come, but I never thought she would do it. She must like you as much as she loved my mother.”

  Madame Givenchy appeared at the top of the steps. Two footmen unloaded a large trunk from her carriage and carried it inside.

  Handing off their horses, William and Elizabeth climbed the steps to meet her.

  Madame clucked her tongue. “I leave scandalous London for the fresh country air, and I see Pemberley is in an upheaval.”

  “I am afraid you have come at a difficult time, but you are always wel
come at Pemberley,” William said, taking her proffered hand and leading her inside.

  “Tut, tut. There is always time to look one’s best.” The proprietress turned to Elizabeth, looking her up and down with a firm scowl. “This is not your best. You need a bath. Where is your maid?”

  Elizabeth opened her mouth to speak, but she could give no answer. Where was Evelyn? Come to think of it, she had not seen Evelyn all morning. When had she last seen her? “I do not know. I do not recall seeing her.”

  Where was Evelyn?

  Elizabeth’s eyes met William’s.

  He said, “She heard Mrs. Bamber’s threats to steal Anne away. Do you think she might have done it?”

  Exactly what Elizabeth had been thinking. Mrs. Bamber’s reaction made much more sense now. She had not been talking about Anne, but about Evelyn. Elizabeth’s pulse raced. “She is loyal enough to the family to attempt it.”

  Madame Givenchy inclined her head to something on the other side of the open doors. “Is that the cause of all this commotion?”

  A baby cried.

  William and Elizabeth ran outside and down the steps.

  Mrs. Bamber, red-faced and notably agitated, pulled a weeping Evelyn by the arm. The girl’s frantic apologies were audible over the wails of the unhappy baby she held. "I am so sorry! I only thought to help, but she will not stop crying, and I do not know how to soothe her."

  "She is probably hungry and frightened," Elizabeth exclaimed, relief tempering her anger. “Really, Evelyn, what were you thinking?”

  William took Anne, humming as he rocked her in his arms. Anne reached her little fingers up to brush against his unshaved chin. He would not give her up. If Wickham wanted to take Anne from Pemberley, he would have to pry her out of William’s arms first … if he could get past Elizabeth.

  First things first. Elizabeth embraced William and Anne, enveloping the baby with all the love Elizabeth longed to give her own children. Anne’s fuzzy, fine hair tickled her nose from under her cap, but Elizabeth would not dream of moving when she felt the baby’s chubby hand caressing her cheek. It was easy to forget they could not remain in each other’s arms forever, but she had to deal with Evelyn.

  The maid continued apologizing, wiping her face and sniffing her swollen, red nose.

  Evelyn continued, "I heard Mr. Wickham's threats, and if you ask me, he is greedy enough to be capable of sneaking into Pemberley to take the child. I could not bear to think of you losing her when it is plain to everyone how much you both love her — especially Mr. Darcy. He is a better father than Mr. Wickham could ever be. He loves Baby Anne as much as I have ever seen any father dote on his own child. Mrs. Bamber gave me the idea."

  “Do not mention my name, you foolish girl,” Mrs. Bamber said, taking Anne and pushing Evelyn forward. To William and Elizabeth, she said, “I apologize for not voicing my suspicion sooner, but I knew this girl was silly enough to risk her own life for your benefit without any regard for the consequences. She has no sense at all and does not know the first thing about babies. I found her crouched behind a barrel in the wine cellar, of all places. Now, if you will excuse me, I must see to Anne’s needs. The poor dear is starving. I will answer your questions once she is fed and sleeping.”

  Evelyn spilled her confession without enticement. “It is true. I am a fool. I lied to Mrs. Bamber. She asked me to stay with Anne while she saw to nature’s call. That was when it occurred to me. I thought that if I just kept Little Anne away until Mr. Wickham left, then she could stay.” She sniffed and snorted until William handed her his handkerchief.

  “How did you convince Mrs. Bamber to leave?” he asked.

  Evelyn hiccupped. “I ran into Mrs. Darcy’s bedchamber and grabbed the biggest, shiniest necklace I could find. Babies like shiny things. That, I know. Then, I left Anne in a pile of blankets in the middle of the bed with the necklace to entertain her while I ran back to the nursery.”

  Elizabeth gasped. “You left Anne unattended? She could have toppled off the bed! Or rolled too close to the fire.”

  “I thought of that later, and I have decided I am not fit to have children.”

  William snapped, his patience clearly reaching its limit. “How on earth did you get Mrs. Bamber to leave Anne with you?”

  “I did not have to. When she came back, I told her that Mrs. Darcy had suggested that Mrs. Bamber go home for the night. That since it was their last night with Anne, she wanted Anne with her in her room. Right then, Anne made a happy sort of noise from the direction of Mrs. Darcy’s bedchamber. It was perfect, really, if you ask me,” she whimpered.

  Evelyn’s heart was clearly bigger than her sense, and Elizabeth could not find it in her to punish the girl for it.

  Holding her cold hands over her burning cheeks, Elizabeth said, “Oh, Evelyn. What am I supposed to do with you?”

  The girl looked down at her hands. “Mrs. Bamber said she would take a switch to me if I showed my face in her nursery ever again. I will pack my things and leave. I am not fit to serve here.”

  “You will do no such thing.”

  William must have agreed. He said, “We will discuss the matter once our nerves have calmed.”

  Elizabeth sighed in relief. The footman who had accompanied her to Hatchards was still in his employ. Evelyn’s position was safe.

  He continued, “Now, we ought to begin spreading the word to all who have helped us and invite them for a repast.” To Elizabeth, William said, “We have a call to prepare for.”

  Elizabeth shivered. She wished both to delay the call so it would never come and to rush through it so it would already be done.

  Madame Givenchy moved between Elizabeth and Evelyn. Looping her arms between theirs, she said, “It is good I am here. I come to Pemberley, and poof! The baby is found! Everyone is happy. Now, please come with me so you can explain what has happened and allow me prepare you for this call. It is a bad one, oui?”

  “The worst. Too much depends on our success,” Elizabeth replied.

  Madame smiled. “Ah, then you must dress like the victor you need to be. You will present yourself in your finest. And I have just the thing.”

  Chapter 32

  “Wickham will not arrive any sooner for all your pacing, Darcy.” Mr. Gardiner sat beside his wife in the drawing room where they waited.

  Darcy tried to sit, but he popped out of his seat again when Madame Givenchy appeared in the doorway.

  “Mes amis, my friends, allow me to present my newest creation,” she said, stepping aside for Elizabeth.

  Darcy’s breath slowed — if, indeed, he remembered to breathe at all. He could not look away, nor did he blink lest he miss a moment.

  “She is stunning, oui?”

  Elizabeth was a vision adorned with glimmering forest green silk. Her cheeks blushed the color of rose petals, and her fine eyes brightened when she met his gaze. Darcy nodded, unable to speak.

  Grayson cleared his throat. “Mr. Hanslock is here with Mr. Wickham.”

  Darcy resented the intrusion when he would much rather appreciate his wife. Offering Elizabeth his arm, he said, “You are beautiful.”

  She smiled at him. “I could take down Napoleon in this gown. Wickham has nothing against us.”

  Their victory would not be easily won, but defeat was unacceptable. Darcy’s family was whole. He was whole. To lose Anne today would be to lose everything he had sacrificed so much for all over again.

  Taking his position beside the fireplace with Elizabeth seated beside him, Darcy said, “Show them in.”

  Wickham sauntered in. “Did you find my daughter?” he asked before he had taken his seat.

  “No thanks to you,” Elizabeth snapped.

  “So, she is returned. I am not surprised you came to your senses and found her in time for our meeting. How convenient,” he retorted.

  “Enough,” Mr. Hanslock commanded. “Where is the child?”

  Darcy rested his hand on Elizabeth’s shoulder. She squeezed it in support.
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  Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, too, held on to each other on the couch where they sat.

  “Anne is with her nurse,” he replied.

  “Bring her down. Mr. Wickham has secured everything she requires, and if you will hand over the child, our business here can come to an end.” Mr. Hanslock spoke as dryly as one would negotiating a transaction at a bank.

  Darcy nodded to Grayson, who hovered by the door.

  While they waited for Mrs. Bamber to join them with Anne, Darcy pulled out the receipts he had been accumulating over the year Georgiana was married to Wickham. It was a sizable collection.

  “There is one matter I must draw to your attention.” He handed the stack of papers to Mr. Hanslock, who leafed through them.

  “I thought I was clear. I do not wish to hear any more arguments. The child belongs to Mr. Wickham.”

  “What I present are facts, and they have a direct influence on Anne. As such, they are worthy of your attention. Those are the bills I have paid during the time Mr. Wickham was married to my sister.”

  Mr. Hanslock tossed the papers on the table. “So Mr. Wickham has a habit of accumulating debts and trusting others to cover them for him. I do not see how that makes him any different from most other gentlemen.”

  “You are willing to allow him to raise his daughter in debtor’s prison?” asked Elizabeth.

  “Why should his daughter be spared when so many other children are raised within the prison’s walls?”

  Mr. Hanslock would not be moved.

  Wickham looked smug. He was not concerned in the least. He had nothing to lose and everything to gain while Anne’s future hung in the balance. Was there nothing Darcy could use to level the field?

  Darcy tried again. Producing another mound of bills and handing them to Wickham, he said, “These are not paid. Look through them. Ensure they are all yours.” He wanted Wickham to see the reality of his debts — to make a man who lived for the moment fear the future.

  Wickham chuckled. “All this tells me is that I have lived well. What is wrong with that?”