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“Pass me the bread please, Dorothea,” Herbert Bentley said with a winsome smile.

Mrs. Dorothea Younge did so, though she did not return the smile. She loved her brothers, of course, but that did not mean she was happy that they were in her boarding house.

“You need to stop worrying so much, Thea,” Oliver Bentley said, forking another piece of ham onto his plate.

“Do not call me Thea,” she said irritably, and viciously stabbed a piece of potato and delivered it to her plate.

“Even if Wickham tells Darcy that we were helping him, there is no way Darcy will bother with us,” Herbert said confidently. “After all, he did not do anything more than send you away from Ramsgate.”

This was true enough, but Mrs. Younge was still uneasy. The attempt at Ramsgate had been to entice Georgiana Darcy into running away with George Wickham to Gretna Green, which was not exactly criminal. An abduction was a far different matter – it was, in fact, worthy of the death penalty .

Not for the first time, she wished she had shut the door on Wickham’s handsome face when he appeared a few days previously. She really ought to know that the man was nothing but trouble, but somehow, when she looked into that handsome face and those sparkling eyes, her usual good sense gave way into idiocy.

Her brothers, of course, were not swayed by Wickham’s charm or looks, but they did like money, and George had paid them fifty pounds each to help kidnap Elizabeth Bennet, and they had agreed with alacrity.

And then, obviously, it had all gone wrong. Her brothers had not been able to provide all the details, but apparently Wickham had been swarmed by ladies, and Herbert and Oliver had fled to save their own skins.

“I hope you are right,” she said aloud, taking a sip of water and leaning back in her chair. She was tired after a busy day of cooking and cleaning for her boarders, and these few minutes at the end of the day were precious to her.

“I am right,” Oliver said confidently.

“In truth, you are very wrong,” a new voice declared, and Mrs. Younge turned a startled, then fearful look on the kitchen door, where a man dressed in a red coat was standing, with two other red coats at his back. “Herbert and Oliver Bentley, you are under arrest for the attempted abduction of Elizabeth Bennet. You… ”

Both young men leaped to their feet and dove toward the side door, which led out to an alley, only to be brought up short by several additional members of the army who were waiting for them. In the midst of cursing and struggling, Mrs. Younge looked fearfully on the colonel who now stood in the middle of the kitchen, his expression stern.

“Who are you?” she gasped.

“Colonel Fitzwilliam,” he replied coldly, “cousin to Mr. Darcy and son of the Earl of Matlock.”

Her brothers were hauled back into the kitchen now, and Dorothea focused plaintive eyes on them as their hands were roughly bound behind their backs, their own eyes flared wide with terror.

“What will happen to them?” she asked breathlessly.

“Probably they will be imprisoned in a hulk on the Thames for a time,” the colonel said, “though if Wickham hangs, they may hang with him. I am not certain yet.”

Both men began sobbing and calling out for mercy, and Dorothea did as well, and her eyes filled with tears. Why had she let Wickham into her house? Why?

** *

Rented House on Queen Street

The Next Day

Elizabeth smiled at her love as he assisted her carefully down from the carriage. He smiled back, his handsome face warm with affection, and he tucked her gloved hand carefully into his elbow with a little pat before turning towards the house. Elizabeth tilted her head back to see the house better as they approached. Her borrowed bonnet severely limited her visual range; she had always eschewed poke bonnets for just that very reason. She was grateful that Jane had loaned her this one for this outing because, though it cut off all her peripheral vision, it also prevented her injured face from being visible to any gawking passersby. For that alone, she would tolerate the hampered vision.

She surveyed with interest the house rented for Miss Darcy and Miss de Bourgh, their companions, and the veritable army of servants provided for them by knowledgeable relatives. It was not as large and imposing as Darcy House, but was perhaps the size of the house on Curzon Street, built of deep red brick with a gray slate roof, with white trim around the windows and shutters, and fronted by a cheerful crimson door. Shallow slate steps led up to a lion knocker on the red door. Flower boxes sat at the lowest windows, filled with dark dirt, ready and waiting for spring planting.

“Oh how charming!” Jane exclaimed from behind them where she and Bingley were following, and Elizabeth glanced at her beloved with a smile, which he returned.

“It is a pleasant house,” Darcy agreed and lifted the knocker before rapping firmly.

They were not kept waiting long. A neat maid in a crisp apron and lace cap opened the door and bobbed a curtsey before taking the gentlemen’s canes and the ladies’ bonnets. Several footmen stood in the hall, quiet and correct as well-trained footmen always were, but not, somehow, as unobtrusive as footmen usually were. Elizabeth noted that all of them looked well able to comport themselves capably in any sort of fight that may occur. It was another layer of comfort to know that Miss Darcy and Miss de Bourgh were so well protected.

Still on Darcy’s arm, she followed him down the hall, with Jane and Charles right behind them, their shoes clicking across the polished parquet floor. Darcy pushed open a door, and Elizabeth had a brief impression of a sun-flooded sitting room before she focused on the people rising to meet them. Miss Darcy was the closest to the door with Mrs. Annesley nearby her. Colonel Fitzwilliam was just beyond in a comfortable chair, and Miss de Bourgh and Mrs. Jenkinson were on a green velvet settee near the windows.

Georgiana Darcy, dressed in a light green morning dress with a woolen shawl around her shoulders, leaped to her feet and hurried over, her cornflower blue eyes flared in distress.

“My dear Elizabeth,” she cried out, “are you in much pain?”

Elizabeth chuckled, shook her head, and said, “Indeed, I am not. I am well aware that I look dreadful, but my headache is mostly gone, and my face pains me not at all. Do not worry.”

Georgiana gulped and said, “It is hard not to worry, though I know we are safe, but I confess to being very shaken by all that happened. Oh, good morning Miss Bennet, Mr. Bingley.”

The various parties greeted one another, and Mrs. Annesley said, “Miss Elizabeth, please take this seat by the fire so that you do not catch a chill.”

Once again, Elizabeth felt an odd mixture of gratitude and irritation. It was annoying to be considered a weakling, but she also knew that her friends and relatives were merely concerned about her .

She obediently took the wingbacked chair near the fire, while Darcy took a seat across from her, Bingley and Jane sat down on a settee, and the others distributed themselves in a circle.

“Do you like this house?” Elizabeth asked, and Anne said, “I do, very much. It is comfortable along with being a good distance from your home and the milliner and dressmaker. But I know that Richard has a busy day, so perhaps we should discuss our business?”

“We should,” Darcy agreed, taking command, as was his wont. “Richard, have you heard anything more about Lady Catherine?”

“I received a quick note from my father, who is harassed but not overwrought by our aunt’s behavior. She is apparently fussing and whining and carrying on, but he has no intention of giving way to her demands.”

“Anne,” Darcy said, turning toward the mistress of Rosings, “do you plan to return to Kent soon?”

Anne shook her head decidedly. “I do not. I have a great deal of business to conduct, and it will be easier to do that in Town, but more than that, I want to be here. I want to visit shops and museums, and acquire a fashionable and comfortable wardrobe, and meet new people.”

“I understand that,” Elizabeth said, “but what of Lady Catherine? If she returns to Kent and you remain are here in London, will the tenants of Rosings in general, and Mr. Collins in particular, not be inclined to come to her for their orders?”

Anne wrinkled her nose and sighed. “That is a problem, I know, but I simply cannot bear to return to the estate yet. Moreover, I need more knowledge of my financial situation and intend to ask my male relations for advice on the estate. There are cottages to be fixed, and fields to be drained, and I do not know what is most important.”

“You need not return to Rosings,” Darcy said. “I am certain that Matlock and Richard and I can manage Lady Catherine.”

“We can,” Richard agreed. “Now, what of Wickham and his two conspirators, the Bentley brothers? The latter are currently residing in a jail in London while Wickham is locked up safely at Darcy House, but we need to decide whether to hang him or send him to New South Wales.”

“I think Wickham should be hanged, at least,” Georgiana said, her eyes sparkling with anger.

Jane made a soft sound of distress and said, “I know that what he did is considered worthy of death, but surely we are called to show mercy? It seems a horrifying proposition to arrange for his execution! ”

Elizabeth turned a sympathetic look on her sister and said, “My dear Jane, it is a difficult step to take, but Wickham has proven himself a villain many a time before his attack on me. If he is sent to Australia, how can we be certain he will not harm defenseless women there?”

“That, I think, is not a great concern,” Richard remarked. “Wickham has been able to run up debts and convince women to give up their virtue because he seems every inch the gentleman. Indeed, I doubt Lady Catherine would have hired him if he did not have enticing manners and a pleasing tongue, but I happen to know that in South Wales, gentle manners are useless, and perhaps worse than useless. He will be cast there penniless, without connections, without skills, and doubtless with roughened face and hands after toiling on the ship for months, and that assumes that he will survive the journey at all, which is not guaranteed.”

Elizabeth watched as Jane turned pleading eyes on her, and she felt her determination waver. Jane was a sensitive woman and would unquestionably feel dreadful if Wickham was actually hanged. The thought of casting such a dark shadow on what should be a wonderful time was enough to make her change her mind.

“I think South Wales would be a most appropriate destination for Wickham,” she said, turning to Darcy .

He nodded and said, “One other advantage to such a choice is that we will not have to concern ourselves with a trial. I know that the military commanders would do their best to keep details of the attempted abduction quiet, but there is always the chance that some particulars will leak out, and there are enough rumors flowing throughout society already regarding our engagement.”

“An excellent point,” Richard said. “Is it agreed, then? We will arrange to have Wickham sent to the Southern Regions?”

There were nods and agreeable murmurs, and Elizabeth said, “If we are not demanding the death penalty for Wickham, then it would be unfair to pursue that with his minions. Perhaps a time of confinement would be enough, though again, there are, I suppose, concerns about a trial and the associated rumors.”

Richard tilted his head thoughtfully and then said, “It is important to us all that Wickham departs England and never returns, but I think the Bentley brothers can be managed in a less permanent way. Leave it to me, please. I will ensure that they suffer enough that they never think of doing such a stupid and evil thing again.”

There were more nods and then Bingley, who had hitherto been silent, said, “Now, I hope you do not mind if I bring up the most important question on my mind; when are we to be married? I am growing tired of waiting to make Jane my bride. ”

Jane flushed and smiled at these words, and Elizabeth reached out her hand to Darcy, who took it in his own and said, “I assure you that Elizabeth and I are impatient as well.”

“If we are to enjoy a double wedding, we will need to return to Meryton,” Bingley said, “since my legal parish is there.”

Elizabeth turned in surprise. “I did not even think about that! You are quite right.”

“I might be able to arrange for a special license,” Richard said.

This startled Elizabeth, as special licenses required an appeal to the Archbishop of Canterbury. Given that Darcy was the nephew of an earl, it probably was possible, but…

“What do you wish for, Elizabeth?” Darcy asked gently, and she smiled and said, “I would prefer to wed in Meryton, under the oversight of old Mr. Allen, if you do not mind.”

The pair turned toward Jane and Bingley, and Jane said, “I would like that too.”

“Then it is decided,” Darcy said, and Elizabeth, noting the passionate light in her beloved eyes, could not help but beam with joy.

** *

Two Days Later

Early

The eastern sky displayed a fuzzy stripe of gray along the horizon, and Lady Catherine wrinkled her nose as she stepped out of the front door of de Bourgh house and walked down the steps to the carriage waiting for her. It was a chilly morning, and even in the better parts of Town, there was the unpleasant smell of coal fires. She had never cared much for London and was heartily relieved to be departing the city for her own beautiful, glorious estate of Rosings, a mere five and twenty miles away. She had been gone far longer than she wished from her home.

A number of problems loomed large in her life, but she would be able to manage them better in Kent, where she was the most important landowner in the area. Matlock was accompanying her to Rosings, which was annoying, but he would not stay long, as he had his own irons in the fire here in London .

She climbed into the carriage and took the forward facing seat, her feet searching for, and finding, the hot bricks on the floor of the carriage, which were most welcome on a cold winter morning. Matlock stepped in and took the seat across from her without complaint and then tapped the ceiling with his cane. The carriage jolted into motion, and Lady Catherine pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders and closed her eyes.

It had been a thoroughly exasperating week, and she was furious at the recalcitrance of her brother, daughter, and nephew Darcy. Anne was still here in London somewhere, which was provoking, and Darcy was still engaged to that hussy, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, which was outrageous, while Matlock was behaving like a ninny in refusing to support her regarding Anne’s engagement to Darcy.

After all, she only wanted what was best for Anne, and Darcy, and Pemberley, and Rosings!

She blew out a breath and looked out the window, where the light was brightening by the minute, displaying stately homes which were asleep at this hour. It was absurd that they were leaving so early in the morning, but Matlock had insisted on it, and she supposed that the sooner she shook the dust of London off her feet, the better.

She felt her eyes closing and leaned back against the well-cushioned squabs. The carriage was well sprung, and the roads of this part of London were well paved. She had no desire to speak with Matlock, so she might as well take a nap. She would have a great deal of work to do when she arrived home to Rosings, after all.

Lady Catherine drifted off to sleep.