Page 79 of Heiress of Longbourn (Pride and Prejudice Variations)
Chapter 1
De Bourgh House
London
September, 1813
“The wedding ceremony will begin at exactly ten o’clock,” Anne de Bourgh said briskly. “I expect the Marquess of Blackwell to attend the breakfast afterward, but we cannot absolutely depend on it.”
“Are you entirely certain that he will be at the wedding itself?” Elizabeth Darcy asked worriedly, her hand briefly touching her unborn child.
“He will,” Richard Fitzwilliam assured her. “He hopes to form a financial partnership with our extended family and would not insult us by missing the wedding after we extended an invitation.”
“An hour will be plenty of time,” Miss Priscilla Colby declared, gesturing at a crude diagram sketched out on paper nearby. “You can see that Lady Sarah’s bedroom is on the second floor at the back end of the house, and we can reach it by the servants’ stairs. I have worked there for a full two weeks and know every inch of the house now. We will dress her as a maid and slip out, with Miss Lydia’s help, and have her well away before her father returns from the ceremony.”
Elizabeth turned her attention on her sister Lydia, who was frowning thoughtfully. “Lydia, promise me that you will be careful.”
Lydia looked up and her beautiful face brightened. “Lizzy, do not worry about me! Miss Colby’s brothers will be nearby in case of any difficulty, but I am confident there will be no trouble at all.”
“I pledge that Miss Lydia will be entirely safe, Mrs. Darcy,” Priscilla assured the mistress of Pemberley.
Elizabeth nodded and forced her shoulders to relax. “I trust you. It is merely that I love my little sister very much.”
“Little sister? I am several inches taller than you are!” Lydia declared with a toss of her brunette curls.
Elizabeth rose to her feet and surged forward to give the youngest Miss Bennet a loving caress. “Yes, my dear, I confess to being the shortest of us all, but I am still your much older sister, and you must promise me that you will obey Miss Colby explicitly and not run off and do anything dangerous.”
Lydia reached out to grasp Elizabeth’s hands in her own strong ones. “One of the most important requirements of being a member of the League is discipline, Elizabeth. Each mission requires every agent to obey the plan and her commander. Do not fear.”
Elizabeth Darcy turned an astonished stare on Miss de Bourgh, who was staring intently at the map of the Blackwell’s mansion. It was truly incredible that after one year away from home, Lydia Bennet had shifted from an undisciplined, rambunctious, ill-mannered girl to a thoughtful, well-regulated young lady. Lady Catherine, Anne, and Miss Colby were, without a doubt, miracle workers.
“I promise you that all will be well, Elizabeth,” Anne said confidently. “The wedding is a perfect distraction for Lord Blackwell as we rescue his daughter from his home.”
The mistress of Pemberley felt her body relax. She could trust the League of the Golden Daffodil to keep her little sister safe.
***
St. George’s
Hanover Square
Anne de Bourgh, dressed in an off white dress, gazed raptly up into the face of Mr. Richard Fitzwilliam, formerly a colonel in His Majesty’s army. The past year had indeed been one of adventure and challenges, and she had no doubt at all that this man was her perfect match. Richard had entered enthusiastically into all the activities of the League of the Golden Daffodil, including acting as something of an uncle to a few of the little children who were living at the Rosings estate. The mothers of these children had all been ruined by unscrupulous men and the ladies of Rosings were providing for them.
She turned to glance briefly out over the congregation of high borne men and women who had chosen to attend their wedding ceremony; she was pleased, though not at all surprised, to observe Lord Blackwell sitting next to Mr. and Mrs. Darcy; her poor cousin was likely unhappy that Elizabeth was within a few feet of such a despicable character, but they had shown themselves, over and over again, willing to serve the needs of the League.
The elderly clergyman officiating the marriage ceremony began to speak. “Dearly beloved, we have come together in the presence of God to witness and bless the joining together of this man and this woman in Holy Matrimony. The bond and covenant of marriage was established by God in creation…”
Anne looked up again, her eyes filling with joyful tears. She and Richard would be happy and have many more adventures together. It pleased her that Richard had conceived of using their very own wedding ceremony as a distraction for the operation taking place only a few miles away. What a joy to have gained the love of such an honorable, supportive and capable man! It was a marvelous and memorable beginning to their marriage, and she found it breathtakingly romantic.
***
“I could use a glass of gin right now,” Albert Hopkins grunted irritably.
His brother Theodore smacked his sibling’s arm indignantly. “Do not speak of strong drink, Al; it merely makes my thirst more difficult to bear.”
Albert shot an expert glance at the sun and said. “We are off duty in two hours. That is not too long to wait.”
“It is long enough.”
“Oh!” shrieked a female voice. “Oh, oh! My chickens! Oh!”
The two servants guarding the back entrance of Lord Blackwell’s mansion looked toward the front street curiously as three white chickens, flapping and squawking, ran toward them with a young woman, dressed soberly in servant’s dress and carrying a crate, in pursuit.
“Oh, oh!” the girl squealed, and both Hopkins' men were on their feet a moment later. She was an exceptionally beautiful young woman with brunette curls escaping from her cap, with flashing brown eyes and even white teeth, and with a most remarkable figure.
“May we help, Miss?” Theodore asked loudly over the indignant screeching of the hens.
“Oh, would you please? They were in my crate and somehow the clasp opened. If they escape, I will be in terrible trouble!”
Theodore and Albert happily raced in pursuit of the birds, all of whom, in spite of their limited intellect, sensibly ran in different directions. In the midst of the cackling of the poultry and the sobbing of the servant girl, the Hopkins men did not notice when two maids walked soberly out of the servant’s door and toward the front street.
Lydia Bennet, however, was keeping a close eye on the side door, and once Lady Sarah and Miss Colby had reached safety, she increased her speed and actually managed to catch one of the hens. Two minutes later, all three birds were back in their enclosure, and she was gazing up with dewy eyes at Lord Blackwell’s servants. “Thank you so very much, both of you!” she gushed. “I never could have caught them by myself.”
“It was our pleasure, Miss...” Albert responded.
“I am Belinda,” Lydia explained, casting her eyes down meekly. “I serve at Mr. Hamilton’s house only five blocks from here. I do not usually purchase chickens at market, but the manservant has been laid low with gout ... oh, I do thank you both so very much for your assistance.”
“We are delighted that we were able to help you,” Theodore assured her smoothly. “Both of us have half days today and Thursdays starting at noon, and would be pleased to assist you in future marketing.”
“I will remember,” Lydia responded with a coquettish flutter of her eyelashes. “But I must be off now.”
She sedately strode toward the front street and marched another few blocks before a carriage pulled in front of her. Priscilla Colby opened the door, and Lydia quickly stepped in with her burden.
“I do apologize about the chickens, Lady Sarah,” Priscilla said as Lydia sat down next to the crate. “They are a trifle smelly.”
“I do not care,” Lady Sarah replied hastily. She was a short, overly thin, pale young woman and her forehead was pinched with worry under her maid’s cap. “Are you entirely certain we were not seen leaving, Miss...?”
“Lydia Bennet,” Lydia said, pulling off her bonnet. “They did not see you, Lady Sarah. The manservants were far too busy chasing hens for a comely servant to notice when you and Miss Colby crept out of your father’s house.”
The girl burst into tears. “I cannot thank you enough,” she sobbed. “I was so desperate. Father absolutely insisted that I marry Lord Morganfell and I ... I...”
Lydia reached out a comforting hand to pat Lady Sarah’s knee. “You are entirely safe now. We will be at Netherfield in two hours, and you will like my sister, Mrs. Jane Bingley. She and Mr. Bingley will harbor you until you are of age, and then you can marry your Mr. Shaw.”
Sarah accepted a handkerchief from Priscilla Colby and mopped her face. “I am sorry for all these tears. It has been a difficult few months and even now, I fear that you must think very poorly of me. I am accustomed to obeying my father, but, but...”
Miss Colby’s face darkened. “No father should force his daughter into marriage with a middle-aged rogue for monetary reasons, Lady Sarah, and his attempt to starve you into submission gives him no authority over you at all at this juncture. Miss Lydia is correct; you will like Mrs. Bingley, and she and her husband will make you welcome. Once you are married, your husband will have control over the fortune bequeathed to you by your mother.”
“May I ask why they are not going to Gretna Green to marry?” Lydia asked hesitantly. “That way, they would not have to wait.”
“We considered it,” Priscilla said, “but Lady Sarah has but six weeks until she reaches her majority, and her father may well rush to Gretna Green to try to stop her. No, far better for her to sequester herself where he would never think to look for her.”
The noblewoman shivered. “If only he does not find me...”
Lydia Bennet grinned. “Do not fear, Lady Sarah. My sister Jane is a charming woman when she wishes to be, but she is also a lioness. She and Mr. Bingley will not allow anyone to snatch you from their care.”
***
The lavish wedding breakfast of Mr. and Mrs. Fitzwilliam had been followed by an afternoon dance in the ballroom of the de Bourgh house in London. The dance floor was shined to perfection and vases of fragrant flowers decorated the alcoves. Lady Catherine, sitting in state on a throne-like chair, suppressed a chuckle at the sight. This room was generally used for training purposes for the League; it was vaguely disconcerting to have the space filled with well-dressed gentlemen and ladies.
Her eyes shifted with satisfaction to the new bride and groom. Anne was glowing today, her eyes fixed on her new husband’s countenance, and Lady Catherine could only be thankful. She would not live forever, and while Anne was a strong, independent woman, her mother rejoiced that she had found a good husband in Richard Fitzwilliam. The latter was now as devoted to the cause of the League as anyone, and Catherine de Bourgh was confident that when she grew too old to serve, the organization would be in excellent hands.
Darcy, currently dancing with his lovely wife, was also assisting in supporting the League financially and in other practical ways; a number of women were now in residence on the Pemberley estate, and Darcy had committed to providing financial support for good men who were willing to take brides with damaged reputations. The Darcys were a wonderful couple, as were the Bingleys. Catherine de Bourgh thanked the Lord that the young people had found their way to one another eventually, though there had been many bumps and falls along the way to marital happiness.
Her eyes shifted to Baroness Orczy, formerly Miss Caroline Bingley, who was dancing with her husband. It had taken some time for Lady Catherine to find an appropriate husband for Caroline Bingley; the woman was rather tiresome, after all. But Baron Orczy, impoverished by his father’s spendthrift habits, had been seeking a beautiful, wealthy heiress, and had accepted Miss Bingley with enthusiasm. Neither husband nor wife was romantic, and they seemed to deal well with one another.
Fitzwilliam Darcy stared down at his darling Elizabeth as the waltz music played on, relishing the feel of her beautiful form in his arms. Her face was slightly rounded from her pregnancy and truly, he had never thought her more beautiful than now, a lovely young matron carrying the heir of Pemberley in her womb.
“I love you,” he murmured, and felt his breath catch in his throat. “I love you, Elizabeth.”
“I love you too, my darling husband, with all that I am,” Elizabeth Darcy replied softly as the music came to an end.