“My dear, I believe we are now ready for a test.”
“A bit earlier than planned, but that is a good thing. We have less than a month before the demonstration at Oxford.” Trevithick added with a boyish grin.
“I say we stop for the evening and go above. This calls for a celebratory drink,” Darcy suggested to the smiles of all, save Edwin Stokes, who stood awkwardly to one side.
“You too, Mr. Stokes, we could not have done it without you,” Elizabeth insisted.
“Of course, we are an excellent team.” Georgiana insisted.
Embarrassment, mixed with pleasure, sent a blush creeping up the young man’s cheeks as they retuned to the library above. Such was their merriment that the sound of boots crunching on the gravel path outside the lower entrance went unheard. It was only when silence reigned below that Henry Wainright pried open the door and entered the workshop. His gaze, mottled by the single lamp he carried, bore a less than healthy amount of jealousy and greed.
“So… this is what you have been hiding…. very interesting indeed,” he muttered. The darkness of the chamber prohibited a detailed examination, but with his courtship of Miss Darcy well underway, opportunities abounded for him to return. Henry was a patient man; he would wait for his chance… and it would not be long.
~27~
Happiness at Pemberley was to be short lived as by the end of the week, replies to the inquiry about Lydia and George Wickham were received. And, as expected, no good news was to be had. Not only had the militia at Newcastle declared Wickham a deserter, he was also to be accused of deeds most inappropriate to any gentleman, let alone one of his Majesty’s officers. At breakfast that morning, Elizabeth and Darcy discussed what could be done to salvage what would surely be a scandalous event of such a magnitude as to not be recoverable. Georgiana Darcy, pale and withdrawn at the very mention of Wickham’s name, was mute and stared at her plate as Darcy read the correspondence from Elizabeth’s sister Jane, and Colonel Fitzwilliam, her former guardian. As for Mary Bennet, her mouth worked over choice comments as to the circumstance, but her mind prevented the airing as she realized the damage to her family.
“I shall read them both again. Perhaps some rational solution can be made, but I have my doubts. This time, it may be impossible to resolve anything,” Elizabeth said.
She did not want Mary to read the letter from Jane. There were parts that would prove distressing to her sister beyond the happenings at Longbourn. With the commotion made by Lydia and Wickham, poor Mary’s absence had not even been noticed. As a middle child, Mary had often been over looked, but this was inexcusable. Some calamity could have befallen her and her parents would never have known.
“Dearest Lizzie,
It was with the greatest of distress that I received your letter. However, I am relieved that Mary is safe in your care, as no one realized her absence save Kitty, who for some reason beyond my comprehension, choose to keep silent. Having just arrived at Netherfield myself, I had not been aware of Lydia’s return. Thinking that Mama and Papa simply wanted to provide newlyweds with some privacy, I did not give their inattention a moment’s care. Unfortunately, as is usual when it pertains to our youngest sister, things are far worse than one could ever imagine. Upon reading your correspondence, I immediately went to Longbourn to discover what truths I may. Mama treated my arrival as if I were coming to welcome Lydia home and wasted no breath in providing her version of the story. Mr. Wickham has not only left his regiment without permission, but is accused of taking liberties with one of the daughters of his superior officer. Rumors abound that the young lady in question is with child and names Wickham as the father. Of course, according to Mama and Lydia, all are lies meant to defame Wickham’s character, but I have my reservations. Of him, he has been secretive, saying little and rarely leaving the house, even avoiding windows. I believe that he is in hiding from the authorities. Mr. Bingley believes that it may simply be a huge misunderstanding, soon to be sorted out amiably, but as we have experienced for ourselves, nothing is ever so easy when it comes to Lydia. If possible, your presence here would provide not only some clarity, but a practical mind. Father has refused to leave his library, even for meals, choosing to sleep on the divan. I fear that he has taken to excessive drink as well to avoid dealing with what will surely escalate in unpleasantness. With this, I await your reply.
Jane
“He’s gotten another woman with child? Not surprised… as for desertion, it was only a matter of time.” Mary interjected. Having found her tongue, she was seething with barely controlled anger, but not with her sister or her husband. No, Mary Bennet’s ire was directed at her parents alone for offer safe haven to those who would ruin them.
“I am sure that there is much that Jane does not know. Mama and Lydia were always very good at glossing over disaster. Colonel Fitzwilliam’s letter is far more worrisome,” Elizabeth added and gestured to her husband to read the additional letter.
On official military stationery, the Darcy relation’s status as a higher-ranking officer had sent a lump of fear through Elizabeth when she had first read it. Colonel Fitzwilliam had taken the formal tone required by one doing his Majesty’s business, not that of a relative and friend. No worse news could be had. Clearing his throat, Darcy began to read aloud the missive. Little more than a note, it verified their worst suspicions.
“Dear Sir,
It was with some relief that your letter providing the whereabouts of one Lt. George Wickham was received. As a confirmed deserter, it is only natural to seek assistance from family, especially if they are well connected. This removes the Darcy family from any presumption of providing aid to a fugitive. Mr. Wickham will be remanded in to custody from the Longbourn estate as soon as possible. From there, he will be taken to trial for numerous accusations against his person, including but not limited to: Desertion, Conduct unbecoming of an officer, Theft and debasement of a child. As his nearest living relative, you may attend the hearings and speak upon his behalf. Regimental headquarters in Meryton will be the location of the trial and sentencing.
Yours, Etc.
“Debasement of a child? What does that mean?” Georgiana whispered.
“The girl in question must have been very young, probably under thirteen years of age,” Elizabeth provided.
“Positively disgusting! He should be hung!” Mary insisted.
“Indeed… If he is guilty, he shall be punished. But unfortunately, this means that we must go to Meryton immediately.”
“All of us?” Georgiana asked. Her pale face had grown even whiter, and Elizabeth feared she would faint.
“No, you and Mary should remain here. We shall not allow whatever Wickham has done to taint our lives any more than necessary. Elizabeth and I shall go and return as soon as we can. I shall rely upon you to continue on with Mr. Trevithick. Pemberley needs that carriage to be a success and you are the one to see it through.”
Relief flooded her features and the color returned to Georgiana’s cheeks. The idea of facing her former demons was more than she could bear and nodded in agreement.
“Mary, I shall rely upon you greatly to assist me. Please stay with me?”
“Of course, I want noting to do with that side of my family anymore.”
Elizabeth did not comment upon her sister’s declaration. Mary was welcome to remain at Pemberley for as long as she wished, but tumultuous relations with one’s parents were not something to be avoided forever. A long overdue confrontation with her mother now loomed before her, but would Mama ever see reason? Mrs. Bennet’s favoritism of her youngest child would be the ruin of them all.
~28~
As Darcy and Elizabeth began their journey to Longbourn, filled with trepidation as to what new scandal they would find, Georgiana Darcy and Mary Bennet possessed an entirely different manner. Being left behind, they eagerly anticipated the first test of the steam carriage out on the open road. As the days had lengthened, the sun did not entirely set until most of the resid
ents at Pemberley had finished their suppers and took private leisure before bedtime. Seeing these hours as most opportune, the young ladies, under the guidance of Richard Trevithick took their places in the rear compartment of the carriage. A dual seat arrangement, designed to carry four persons, had seemed the ideal design to maximize larger families. Now, it gave a wonderful place to observe the process of driving the contraption. Edwin Stokes, as they were now outside the security of the workshop, retained his formal livery as he took his own place beside the engineer. To any casual onlooker, it was simply the latest newfangled fancy of the Darcy’s. No one would dare assume that the master or mistress of the estate had soiled their hands in its creation. Only the pride of accomplishment, carefully concealed by fashionable gowns, was any sign that it was otherwise.
“Mr. Trevithick, how far will we be going, and at what speed?” Mary inquired as she tucked her skirt beneath a heavy leather tarp. The hide, serving as safety against possible sparks, was the only instrument of prevention in the new mode of travel. The test run would determine if further accommodations were required.
“I hope to go just under a mile. We cannot be too cautious at the moment. As for speed…. I don’t rightly know how fast she’ll go. Anything over that of a swift horse would be an achievement.”
“Agreed, is everything in order?” Georgiana said as she took one last walk around the carriage, inspecting every detail for its proper placement.
“As well as ever, Miss Darcy,” Edwin assured as he handed her into the seat behind his own. The reversion to using Georgiana’s surname now felt awkward, but he would not embarrass her with familiarity should any overhear.
Peering down the road, Trevithick took one last observation of the condition of he road before setting the engine in motion. A loud, yet regular hum of gears and steam soon escalated in readiness and he tested the floor pedal, sending the carriage hurtling forward.
The road, of packed dirt, was smooth from the lack of rain and provided an excellent course of travel allowing Richard Trevithick to accelerate evenly until the wind caught at the ladies’ bonnets and sent his own cap sailing away. Giggling with exhilaration, Georgina Darcy turned her face into the breeze and leaned forward to claim a better view of the road. In doing so, she placed a hand on the firm shoulder of Edwin Stokes, and spoke in his ear, just above the rhythm of the steam engine.
“Is it not the most wonderful feeling? It is as if we are flying on the wings of the great Pegasus.”
Edwin only nodded, not daring to turn his face when hers was so close to his own. He had not understood the metaphor to the mystical winged horse, but the feeling was the same, only magnified by the presence of her hand upon him. So mesmerized by the ride, no one noticed the slight change in the sound of the engine. Turning carefully at a bend in the road, Trevithick felt an acceleration, but brushed it off as too much pressure on the foot pedal. Releasing slightly, a tremor of alarm prickled his keen engineer’s senses. Something was not quite right. Expecting perfection on the first try was unrealistic, multiple prototypes had been tried and failed before the first locomotives were successful. Maneuvering past a low spot in the road, the faintest sound of metal pinging out of tune struck his ears, but the warning came only seconds before the rushing of steam, loosened from its copper tubing flooded from the engine. As the person in the closest proximity, Trevithick bore the brunt of the assault as the carriage came to a heavy stop, lurching the occupants forward. The brawny engineer, always a bastion of strength, mirroring that of the machines he made, now slumped motionless against the wheel that turned the carriage as clouds of steam rose from the engine compartment. Only low moans of pain gave any suggestion that he was alive. Safe, but filled with an alarm that bordered upon panic, Georgiana and Mary found their bearings as Edwin Stokes, shaken, but unhurt, assessed the condition of Trevithick.
“Help me get him away from the carriage. If it blows, we shall all be in great danger.”
Struggling with the unconscious weight, the three managed to carefully drag the engineer to a safe distance. In the safety of tall grass on the side of the road, Georgiana, recovered from her shock, gave orders as one would expect from a Darcy.
“Edwin, run to the nearest farm and request a wagon and a horse. We must get him to Pemberley and a doctor immediately. Mary, help me remove his gloves and coat.”
By now, Richard Trevithick had opened his eyes and attempted to brush away their ministrations, but the tone of Miss Darcy would brook no argument.
“You do as I say, and lie still. There is quite a gash on your forehead and your face is burned. It was fortunate that your gloves are of good quality, or I fear that your hands may have been greatly damaged.”
“I feel fine now, just a headache.”
“Do not disagree with me! Only after you are seen by a doctor will you have your way.”
Trevithick mumbled under his breath, but did as ordered and within the hour was on his way back to Pemberley. Only Edwin Stokes remained behind, seeing to the removal of the steam carriage. Alone, he swore softly at the machine, kicking the cover of the engine compartment, causing it to open. Now that it had cooled, it was clear as to what had been the source of the accident. The coiled copper tubing, once shiny and orange, was now blackened with soot where the fittings joined the tank holding the water. Cracked and broken, the seal had ruptured.
“Hmm… that should be easy enough to repair. Far easier than getting it home.”
~29~
Two days later….
As Richard Trevithick recovered, a pall of frustration mixed with renewed excitement hung over the three remaining conspirators as they assessed the damage in the cellar. It had taken a team of four draft horses nearly an hour to drag the carriage back to Pemberley. By the time Edwin returned, it was long dark and he was exhausted, but it could have been far worse. Mr. Trevithick had told them horrible stories of steam accidents. It was sheer luck that they had not all been killed. Now, the man was ordered to rest for a full fortnight, destroying all plans of entering the competition at Oxford in just a few weeks.
“It is the grace of God for which we must be thankful,” Mary Bennet had insisted.
“Yes, but I do not see one accident as a permanent setback. I should like to see what can be done to repair it,” Georgiana suggested, much to the surprise of her companions. Seeing their astonishment, her face changed from its normal congenial demeanor to one of pure determination.
“Richard may not be able to drive, but that does not mean we simply give up. Besides the cracked tubing, there are other improvements to be made now that our test run is complete. It was not a failure, but a lesson from which we have learned much. I intend to be ready for Oxford, with or without anyone’s assistance.”
“We would never abandon you!” Edwin declared.
“Will you write to Elizabeth and your brother? Should they not be informed?” Mary cautioned.
“No, from what you have said, matters at Longbourn will be trying enough. Besides, they are needed there, I don’t want them rushing home. We can do this alone.”
*****
As Georgiana and her companions formulated a plan to move forward, Henry Wainright threw what could only be called a temper tantrum inside the confines of what he too now called a workshop. Having ridden to Pemberley with the intentions of continuing his courtship of Miss Darcy, his surprise was beyond register when he saw a most unusual contraption chugging down the road. Inside, laughing with amusement, was Georgiana Darcy. Not only did she appear to be highly entertained by the vehicle, but also the male occupants of the carriage. Her all too familiar placement of her hand had not gone unnoticed. Nor, had his memory of how she shrank from his own touch faded. So, there was someone else she favored? Having watched the progression of the steam carriage until it turned out of sight, he kicked his horse into a canter home. What good did it do to call upon a lady when she was not at home? Tossing his reins to his groom, he stormed into the lower dungeons of Camberly where he s
tored his own building materials. The stone walls had muffled the cries of all its former occupants and did well to masque his own. It was with a rage bourne of jealousy that he now hurled various objects about the chamber.
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