The Remarkable Miss Darcy

by Jennifer Joy

Georgiana shrunk into herself as soon as she said the words aloud. She had taken their conversation too personally and now felt foolish for assuming she knew the direction in which their discussion tended.

  Elizabeth arched an eyebrow at her. "Very well, but allow me to correct you. I do not for one second believe your nature is dispassionate … cautious … detached … whatever you wish to call it. It is a mask you wear to protect yourself, and until you allow others to see how amazing you truly are, how deeply you care, you will never gain what you most desire. You are so much like your brother sometimes, it is remarkable."

  Georgiana wanted to look away from Elizabeth, but she would have felt like a coward. So she protected herself. What was wrong with that? It was not wise to walk around with her heart exposed for anyone to take advantage of, was it? She held Elizabeth's gaze, rebellion kindling within her, until a knock sounded at the door.

  The butler handed William a note, saying in a rush of breath, "I believe it might have news of Miss Bennet, sir."

  Elizabeth moved over to her chair and William took the note. "The messenger?" he asked.

  "I already inquired. He was a chimney sweep. The message was given to him by a barmaid in the employ of a tavern, but he was uncertain who had given the message to her. He could not tell me from whence it originated."

  The color drained from William's face as his eyes skimmed over the page. Clearing his throat, he read aloud:

  If you wish to see your sister alive, you will deposit thirty thousand pounds in a satchel at The Crooked Falcon at twelve o'clock three days hence. Do not send a servant. Come alone. If you follow these instructions faithfully, she will be returned to you unharmed. We are watching you. Cross us, and you will next see her lifeless body dragged out of the Thames.

  Acid churned in Georgiana's stomach and burned her throat.

  William handed the letter to Elizabeth. "When will your father arrive?" he asked.

  Her eyes never left the page, though it would have been a miracle for her to read anything with the way her hand shook. "I sent a message early this morning. Papa cannot travel on horseback. He will have to come in a carriage, which will slow him down. I expect him to arrive on the morrow." In a whisper, Elizabeth added, "Three days."

  Three days. It sounded like a short time, but in Georgiana's mind it might as well have been an eternity. And if the next two hours until Mr. Nelson called again were any indication, it would be the longest three days of her life.

  Mr. Nelson requested a private audience with William, persisting in excluding the delicate females of the household in a misguided sense of honor. While Georgiana appreciated the value behind the intent, she did not care at all for the manner in which it manifested itself.

  Fortunately, William insisted she and Elizabeth be present to hear any news regarding Lydia. He knew which battles were worth fighting in his household … and he chose wisely.

  Once they had been seated in the room most encouraging for contemplation and problem-solving, William's study, Mr. Nelson produced a note addressed to the Pringles. From the outside, it was identical to the one they had received earlier that afternoon.

  Mr. Nelson asked, "Is there any connection between Miss Bennet and Miss Pringle?"

  Both William and Elizabeth looked at Georgiana. As Lydia's closest friend, she would be privy to more details than they were.

  The Pringles' ancestry could be traced as far back as the Darcys' could. Not only were the two families acquainted, but the Pringles' eldest daughter was particularly well-known to Lydia. Unfortunately, the only thing they would ever be presumed to agree on was their mutual hatred for each other.

  "Miss Bennet went to finishing school with Maria Pringle. They are sworn enemies," Georgiana said, praying the two were not captured together. She could only imagine how they, and anyone else so unfortunate as to be nearby, would fare having their company forced on each other. Their captor might soon regret his selection in ladies. Not that Georgiana wished an easy time of it for that evil individual. He deserved all the trouble he brought upon himself.

  To his credit, Mr. Nelson acknowledged her statement. "It is a connection, although an odd one. Anything you can recall about their interactions together could prove key, Miss Darcy."

  Georgiana could write a book about the atrocities Lydia and Miss Pringle had suffered the other to bear at finishing school. The headmistress had seen fit to request stricter conditions by which a young lady might enter her institution.

  William opened the note Mr. Nelson had given him, his eyebrows furrowing as he took in its contents. "It is another ransom note. It is nearly identical except for the name of the tavern."

  Mr. Nelson squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, pressing his fingers against his temples. "Yes. The letter Lord Kendall received for his sister is the same. But what do the ladies have in common?" He laid the message alongside the Pringles' note. Elizabeth pulled Lydia's ransom note from her sleeve and placed it beside them as well.

  Three families. Three ransom notes.

  Georgiana squinted at the pages, inspecting every mark and crease on the paper. "What can be learned from the writing?" she asked. The lines were straight and thick, assertive and elegant. "It is the writing of a gentleman," she commented.

  "Your observation is sound, but we cannot assume it was written by the instigator of this crime. A law writer could have been hired. Anybody could have written this." Mr. Nelson looked sorry to contradict her.

  Georgiana was not sorry. She only wanted answers.

  "What of the paper?" she asked. She touched it, rubbing it between her fingers. It felt like the paper she used to write on. Which meant it was nothing special.

  "All three notes are written on the same kind of paper. There is no inscription nor any other indication of quality to help us trace its source. It is much too common to determine anything of note."

  "What of the notes themselves? Is there anything in their expression to indicate from whence they came?" she pressed.

  "Nothing at all."

  "You will inquire at the taverns?" she asked, her frustration mounting.

  Before Mr. Nelson could reply, Elizabeth answered, "We can help. I still have the costumes Arabella and I donned for Tanner's pugilist match."

  Georgiana wanted to laugh at the shock on Mr. Nelson's face. If Elizabeth's intention was to move him to immediate action, she succeeded.

  He said, "That will not be necessary. I will go straight away. The taverns are not far from each other, and it will be nothing for me to go to all three this evening. Pray do not expose yourself to danger."

  With a warning glance at Georgiana and his wife, William said, "I will accompany you."

  The gentlemen rose to depart, leaving Georgiana and Elizabeth with no other option but to remain behind at Darcy House. It was upsetting. Mr. Nelson had shot down every idea she had … not that she had observed anything he had not already seen from the three pages, but that was beside the point. If Mr. Nelson thought she was content to sit idly by while he did all the work, exposing himself to unnecessary danger on behalf of her friend and sister, then he had gravely mistaken her character. She may be quiet, but she was not a ninny.

  Chapter 15

  Was Miss Darcy angry at him? Again?

  Her hands clenched into fists, and her lips pressed into a thin line. It was a pity. Miss Darcy's lips were better appreciated in their plump fullness. The slight flare of her nostrils would have been adorable had Michael not known her ire to be directed at him. What had he done to provoke her?

  If she believed he would expose her to danger when he was the one entrusted with the recovery of Miss Bennet, then she gravely misunderstood his character. She had a beautiful family who would miss her were the worst to happen. Her loss would be felt too deeply. Unlike his.

  He followed Mr. Darcy out of the study, anxious to continue his search.

  Before they reached the landing, Miss Darcy chased after them, calling out, "My dowry is thirty thousand pounds. Use i
t to get her back. It is sitting in the bank, ready. Please use it for her." Her eyes brightened in supplication.

  Michael was grateful no reply was expected of him. What do you say to such a generous, selfless offer? He, a gentleman practiced in the art of persuasive argument, was stricken dumb.

  In their short acquaintance, Miss Darcy consistently considered the needs of others before her own comfort and pleasure. There had been many opportunities for her to act otherwise, but her generosity was proved authentic time and again.

  Mrs. Darcy wrapped her arm around Miss Darcy. "I love your attachment to my silliest sister." Her voice wavered, but she continued, "We must discuss the matter with my father. I expect him to arrive soon."

  "We will do what we must to get her back. We will do whatever it takes," Mr. Darcy said, his tone strong and steady.

  Michael did not doubt him. Mr. Darcy was not the sort to utter empty promises.

  His words had the desired effect on his wife and sister. They knew him to be trustworthy, and they bestowed their precious confidence on him. Would that Miss Darcy looked at him with such faith.

  Michael's admiration got the better of him, and before he could stop them, the words came rushing out of his mouth. "I wish there were more families like yours." Now that he had begun, he felt he needed to explain. "Families who place greater importance on the ones they love than on their fortunes."

  Mr. Darcy looked away from his sister, his eyes snapping to Michael. "I have seen too many men compromise their character for fortune. My father was one of them."

  It would have been easy for Michael to assume the Darcys' life had been nothing but roses and rainbows.

  Miss Darcy had hinted at trouble. He ought to have known better.

  Once again, Michael adjusted his view toward them. Once again, respect strengthened its grip on his mind and his curiosity deepened.

  Georgiana froze in place. William never spoke of their sire — a man so vain, he had insisted on naming his second legitimate child after himself though she was a girl. She ought to have known the name was cursed. George Darcy. George Wickham. Georgiana Darcy.

  Michael Nelson. That was a good, solid name. Not one "G" to be found in it.

  The names. What were the names?

  A picture of the ransom notes laying on the table loomed in Georgiana's mind. Pringle, Kendall, and Darcy. She had heard them before together.

  She shook her head. No, it could not be. It had been Darcy, not Bennet. Lydia did not fit. Then again, she did not fit with the other heiresses to have gone missing either. It did not make sense.

  Georgiana kept her thoughts to herself, for that was all they were. Thoughts were useless when what they needed were solid clues. Besides, she was still a little miffed at Mr. Nelson. In his eagerness to exclude her, he probably would not listen anyway. She would merely have to find out for herself if her thoughts held merit, for it was clear to her now that no amount of head-shaking would clear the names from niggling in her mind.

  Mr. Nelson bowed to depart, but a ruckus from the entrance hall and the sound of little feet running over the marble floor kept him from venturing too far.

  Had Ben escaped from the nursery to invade the pantry again? Cook had threatened to take after him with a rolling pin if she caught him. (Nobody but Ben believed her threat, which was Cook's intention, no doubt. But Georgiana did not wish to see her put to the test either.)

  William jumped out of the doorway to allow a flaxen-haired hurricane through. It was their nephew Johnny followed closely by Marianne, his toddling sister who was not such an accomplished runner as her eldest brother. Behind them came Arabella, rushing up the stairs in pursuit of her children with the youngest addition to their family in her arms, Baby Angus.

  Breathlessly, she said, "I am so sorry to burst in like a bunch of savages. It is difficult for the children to sit in the carriage for as long as it takes to get here from Meryton." Arabella shuffled Angus to her other hip as she spoke.

  If she was surprised to see their small party clumped together at the top of the stairwell, she did not let on.

  Georgiana wasted no time getting to her side, hugging first Arabella and her sweet nephew before she sought refuge in Tanner's big arms. He held her, rocking her from side to side and kissing the top of her head. She could have stayed there much longer than she did, but she dared not neglect the children.

  As soon as Tanner released his hold around her, Georgiana spun around and dropped to her knees, holding her arms wide. Johnny and Marianne raced to her, nearly knocking Georgiana over with their pent-up energy. She was too happy to see them to care. Let Mr. Nelson think what he would. She squeezed Johnny and Marianne to her, covering their faces with kisses, and saying, "What a wonderful surprise you have come! Ben will be overjoyed to see you, as will Rose."

  Elizabeth held out her hands. "Would you like to join them in the nursery?" she asked with a smile as large as their answering squeals were loud.

  Georgiana rose to her feet, laughing at her brothers when she saw they had both extended their hands to assist her. Mr. Nelson's hand, too, was held out for her benefit. He tucked it awkwardly behind him. He shuffled his weight and cleared his throat, bowing his head. "I should leave you to your family," he said, moving down the hall toward the stairs.

  William blocked his path … not that any man had hope of slipping past the two figures of her brothers when their shoulders standing side-by-side filled the hall.

  "Nonsense," William said, "You remember my brother, Mr. Jonathan Tanner from Meryton, do you not? And this is his wife, whom you met as Mrs. Annesley."

  Arabella smiled, a glint in her eye. "And a very happy Mrs. Tanner now. Of course, I remember Mr. Nelson. How pleased we are to see you again. Are we not, my love?"

  Contrary to her words, Tanner did not look at all happy to see Mr. Nelson.

  Tanner grunted, "The secret admirer we thought was courting Georgie under our noses? How could I possibly forget? I wanted to pound your face in."

  Georgiana sucked in her cheeks to keep from laughing. Surely, Mr. Nelson would understand that with two such brothers, it would be a difficult thing for her ever to be in danger.

  Tanner's glare focused solely on Mr. Nelson — an example of intimidation that filled Georgiana with envy. Nobody ever took her as seriously as Tanner and William inspired others to take them.

  Elizabeth returned from the nursery, stopping to watch the spectacle the three men must have displayed.

  Mr. Nelson did not shrink back or flinch as most gentlemen would. Neither did he puff himself up in a proud display of power.

  Instead, he met Tanner's withering glare with a smile bright enough to light an entire mansion. "How fortunate for me I did not turn out to be the dastardly rogue you suspected." Mr. Nelson rubbed his jaw. Perhaps in appreciation of its being spared?

  Tanner guffawed loudly, punching Mr. Nelson on the shoulder and releasing the tension in the hall. They filed back into the study, it being the room nearest to them.

  When everyone had taken their seats around the fireplace, Mr. Nelson said, "In times like these, it is good to have a family to rely on."

  Tanner and Arabella looked around the room for answers. They did not know what had happened.

  And how to tell them…

  Georgiana said, "We have a lot to tell you. It would appear we are embroiled in another mystery."

  Tanner smacked his fist, and Arabella rested her hand on his thick forearm. He was already on full alert. "Anyone who threatens my family will be made to regret it," he said.

  Mr. Nelson rose. "I am relieved to hear it, Mr. Tanner. I apologize for departing so soon after your arrival, but I really must go. There are several taverns I must visit before the end of the day." He looked at William.

  "I had best stay here. My brother needs to know what has happened. You will keep us informed," William said.

  "Of course," Mr. Nelson replied with a bow.

  Georgiana watched his shoulders retreat thro
ugh the doorway. She listened to his footsteps until the sound of his boots disappeared past the click of the front door.

  She did not realize how long her eyes had lingered on the doorway through which he had passed until she felt Arabella's eyes on her. With a knowing smile that made Georgiana's ears burn, Arabella politely allowed Georgiana time to compose her complexion by turning her attention to the conversation.

  Georgiana tried to pay attention.

  She tried to stay angry with Mr. Nelson.

  But it was difficult to focus on anything other than him when she was surrounded by people who took her safety as seriously as he did. Why should she remain irritated at him for acting as her family did?

  Of course, they acted out of love. Uncertainty clouded her sharp instincts where Mr. Nelson's motivation was concerned.

  Chapter 16

  Lydia was tired, hungry, and uncomfortable. She had been trapped in the bare room all day, and it now seemed she would be forced to spend the night in the cold, damp room with a bunch of useless girls — she did not include Lady Eleanor amongst their number. She had an unmarried brother.

  Three of the other ladies huddled quietly in a corner, crying. For all the good that would do them.

  Lydia sat in the center of the room, thinking of what to do. If the door opened again, she would make a dash for it. She wished she had read more of the novels Georgiana had offered to lend her. Perhaps they would have provided Lydia with more ideas on how she might make her escape. At the very least, she would have had something more pleasant with which to occupy her mind — a story of a heroine in danger who through her wit and the undying love of a brave hero is able to escape.

  Lydia had learned years ago she could not rely on her wits. She simply did not possess enough of them, a fact she lamented greatly as the cold seeped through her ruined gown and her stomach grumbled in hunger.

  Neither did she have a young man who would tirelessly search for her until she was found. She had her family, but they were not as romantic as a knight in shining armor. More was the pity.