Page 13 of Lord Lonbourn’s Daughter

With sufficient funds for everything from lodgings to bribes, Colonel Fitzwilliam had sent messages by express to half the country by the time he left.

No expense was spared if it could lead to the recovery of Georgiana and the earl’s daughters.

But he had an additional incentive for success on his mission—to see the light returned to the eyes of a certain beautiful lady.

He had always deemed himself a fixed bachelor, but now he was no longer certain it was the only way he could be happy.

The army was losing its charm every minute he spent in her company.

He could not subject the woman to a life following the drum; the lady was the daughter of an earl and must expect certain comforts that the army could never provide.

For the first time, Colonel Fitzwilliam played with the thought of selling his commission.

#

After watching the colonel ride off in a cloud of dust, Darcy and Lord Longbourn were left behind with nothing to do.

“Should we involve the Earl of Matlock?” Lord Longbourn wondered.

“I have contemplated the same but have yet to decide. Perhaps my aunt would be just as much use. She once threatened to have me horsewhipped, asserting connections in London’s underworld.

I doubt she was speaking the truth, but if so, she might be able to ferret out any rumours of new girls in town if the girls are being held captive here in London. ”

“That sounds far-fetched,” Lord Longbourn replied sceptically.

“Yes, but it is either that or doing nothing,” Darcy complained.

“Your house or mine?” Longbourn enquired.

“I suspect that our houses are being watched. It would seem less suspicious if I invited the Matlocks to my house for a family dinner,” Darcy suggested.

“You are correct, but I would like to be a part of the discussion, Mr Darcy,” Longbourn implored.

“I intend to invite you and your daughters. Someone must entertain my aunt and Annabella. My aunt could demand to join the gentlemen if the viscount and his wife are out of town. They are spending more and more time in Derbyshire,” Darcy explained.

“Sensible chap, your cousin. Are you thinking of this evening or the next?” Longbourn enquired.

“This evening. We have not a moment to lose. I shall summon Matlock, and while we await his arrival I need to go through my correspondence. There might be a clue hidden in the pile of letters stacked on my desk.”

Darcy bowed stiffly to Lord Longbourn and limped to his house next door.

Walking was painful with his sore limbs, which had not had any rest for twenty-four hours.

The taxing ride and lack of sleep rendered him stupefied.

He ordered a bath, and after his ablutions fell into a short, disturbed sleep where the events of the last few days came back to haunt him.

He jolted awake after half an hour and summoned his valet.

Darcy’s valet, Grey, was a man of many talents.

He sometimes served as secretary and responded to the letters of invitation Darcy had not the time to answer himself.

This day was no different. He dealt with the business letters himself while Grey declined invitations to soirées, dinners, balls, and at homes at a nearby table with a writing desk.

He must have something to keep him occupied; the waiting was driving him mad.

“Here is one from Mr Bingley. Are you certain you would decline?” Grey enquired.

“When is it?”

“A dinner at Hurst House for tomorrow evening.”

“Yes, I must decline. Write that I am sorry and shall make amends.”

“Certainly.”

The silence between them stretched out as they both delved into their piles.

“There is an invitation from the Duke of Chesterfield,” Grey announced, jolting Darcy from his dismal thoughts.

“Really? I do not believe I have ever been to Wingerworth. Not for as long as I can remember. I might have been as a child. My father mentioned him from time to time. He was his first cousin once removed. Why is he inviting me?”

“To a house party, I believe. He wants you to come to his home at your convenience.”

“Ah, that is regrettable, but I cannot accept at this point. Do not reject his invitation but let it be known that I have business engagements that will occupy all my time in the foreseeable future. As politely as you can, please.”

“Of course, sir.”

Darcy was hoping to find some kind of clue to his sister’s abduction amongst the post. A letter demanding money would even be welcomed if it led to the discovery of Georgiana’s whereabouts, but he would be content with a clue that may lead them in the right direction.

Someone he had forgotten to pay, bought a prized animal from under his nose, or displeased in any way.

He found nothing, not even the slightest indication that something might be amiss.

He sighed and decided to go for a ride before dressing for dinner.

A hard gallop would clear his mind and sort out his thoughts.

Besides, he could not bear to sit idle; his every moment was haunted by conjectures of Georgiana’s peril.

#

Dinner at Darcy House

The dinner was naturally subdued; Darcy’s Matlock relations noticed but were too polite to enquire.

His aunt endeavoured to lighten the mood, bless her soul, but neither he nor the Longbourn party were in a disposition for levity.

Silence reigned until the sexes separated, his aunt taking responsibility for leading the ladies to the music room.

He could not stomach the thought of joining them there later, when they were supposed to be reunited.

The room screamed that Georgiana was not there to play on her beloved pianoforte.

The blasted thing stood unused and abandoned.

He felt his hands tremble. He needed to get a grip on himself, at least until all the ladies had left.

Lady Elizabeth hung back, whispering something to her father before she followed Lady Matlock out of the room.

“Can someone please explain to me what the hell is going on?” the Earl of Matlock’s voice boomed across the table.

Lord Longbourn took it upon himself to relate as much as he could remember about the ordeal they were facing. The room grew quiet as Lord Matlock and his son contemplated the grave news.

“Bloody hell! What kind of miscreant thinks that they can abduct innocent young ladies from the houses of Darcy and Longbourn and get away with it? When I get my hands on those lowlifes, they will beg to be hanged, drawn, and quartered!” Lord Matlock blustered.

“We must be grateful for Richard,” Viscount Crawford said.

Darcy’s head snapped up. He had not told the viscount that he had enlisted the aid of his brother. Could Richard be so little trusted? He and Longbourn had yet to decide whom to inform, and when his cousin had left, he had requested his complete silence.

“Why do you say that?” Darcy enquired of Crawford.

“The description of the gentlemanlike Midlander must sound as familiar to you as he does to me. Wickham. I am willing to put down a significant sum that it is him, and you know I am not a betting man, Darcy.”

“No, you are not,” he agreed.

“I am sure Richard will do his duty when it comes to it. Father, we should speak to someone at the war office who knows where he is. He should be at home to marry at short notice when Georgiana is returned,” the viscount entreated before a gloomy audience.

“I would advise against that, Uncle,” Darcy protested.

“At the moment, we should draw as little attention to our family as possible. There is nothing he can do until we receive the next communication from the kidnappers. I cannot imagine what you believe your brother can accomplish that we are not already doing, Crawford. I shall not agree to anything that might agitate the miscreants to do something stupid. My hands are bound, and my feet are tied by the note they left.”

“I was not suggesting you should go against the specific orders in the note, Darcy,” Crawford tried to mollify him.

“By your description, I agree they are not a bunch to be trifled with. The ruffians were armed and have already killed a man, but you can surely see that Richard must marry the girl when she is found. If not, our good name will be shredded to tatters by the gossipmongers. Whether she is ruined or not does not signify as much as the fact that she has been unaccounted for. How many days now? Four? Georgiana must marry, and I cannot think of anyone more suitable than my brother. His sense of duty will outweigh any repercussions her captivity might have had. I dare you to find another such man, much less someone better!” the viscount defended his brother.

“Come now, boys, there is no need to bicker amongst ourselves,” the Earl of Matlock admonished.

“I shall deal with that when it comes to it. I am not of a mind to force Georgiana into something she is not inclined towards,” Darcy pronounced firmly.

“My brother is the best of men!” Crawford protested.

“On that account we agree, but Georgiana should not marry the man I think is best but the man she perceives to be the best. My father was a religious and righteous man. I promised him on his deathbed that both I and Georgiana would choose wisely when we married because we should do so only once and keep our wedding vows holier than any other vows. He despised the debauchery in high society, loathed the men and women who after the heir was born flaunted their lovers about town. He could not stand for it, which is ironic when you look at how his godson Wickham turned out, but that does not absolve my promise on my own and Georgiana’s behalf. ”

“I do not believe your father could have foreseen—” The Earl of Matlock was interrupted by a light knock on the door.

It opened to reveal Lady Elizabeth.

“Pardon my untimely interruption, but I wanted to notify you, Father, that Jane, Mary, and I are going home at the countess’s instruction.”

A ghost of a smile wafted over her countenance when she mentioned Lady Matlock’s orders.

Mr Darcy seriously doubted that even his aunt could order Lady Elizabeth to do anything she was not inclined to do.

How she instinctively took charge within her own household and outside it spoke highly of her integrity.

She was not even the oldest sister, yet it was she, repeatedly, who took on the responsibility of the family’s comfort.

He knew all too well what that responsibility felt like, but he was the head of his family.

Darcy averted his eyes when he became aware that he was staring at her. He felt the crease between his brows and tried to fold his countenance into a more neutral expression.

“They should not even venture into the street without an escort. Only heaven knows if the house is being watched. We would not want to have the rest of your daughters in the hands of those monsters,” Crawford warned.

“Good thinking, Montgomery, would you do the honours?” Lord Matlock suggested.

“Certainly, Father,” the viscount agreed.

“There is a short cut through the mews. They will not need to enter the street,” Darcy mentioned absentmindedly. Their houses abutted, with the mews situated between them.

“Really, why have I never heard of it?” The Earl of Longbourn appeared genuinely surprised.

“We are distantly related—the Longbourn and Darcy Houses. Matlock too, for that matter. The legend says that Bennet House and Darcy House were once owned by two brothers who enjoyed riding together. For convenience, they had a connecting door added in the mews.”

“I do not think we should escort the ladies in their evening attire through the dirty mews.” Crawford looked appalled. He had been well trained by his wife.

“No, I suppose not,” Darcy relented.

The viscount rose and offered his arm to Lady Elizabeth. He was gone a few minutes while the ladies were escorted home.

“Who is Wickham?” the Earl of Longbourn demanded to know.

Darcy gave him the abbreviated version of his dealings with the miscreant: that he was his father’s favourite and godson; his depraved ways at Eton and later at Cambridge; the inheritance his father had left him and the living he had forfeited only to request it after he had been paid three thousand pounds in lieu of its value.

He did not add that he doubted Wickham was the author of the abduction.

At this point, nothing was certain, but Wickham had neither the means nor the brains for such a costly and complex operation.

Nothing new was agreed upon, yet there was comfort in knowing he had his family’s support.

#

The Earl of Longbourn startled when a letter was brought to his study on a silver salver. His name was written in a hand he recognised. His fingers trembled slightly as he tore off the unmarked wax seal.

“Mr Schneider? Call Mr Darcy over here at once. Tell him there is no time to lose!”