Page 14 of Lord Lonbourn’s Daughter

Darcy fought the impulse to run when he received the Earl of Longbourn’s winded butler with the news that he must come at once.

He grabbed his hat on his way out and hastened as much as he dared without breaking into a full run.

Longbourn must have heard something from the kidnappers.

Dear God, let it not be someone’s dead body. I can countenance anything but that!

#

The Earl of Longbourn studied the faces of his daughter and Mr Darcy. They had not responded as he had expected to the demands in the extortion letter. Not at all! Neither had voiced any opinions, and their expressions revealed no signs of outrage. Intriguing indeed!

Elizabeth’s mouth opened as if to speak, but no sound emerged. She shut it abruptly and blushed bright red, which was another quite telling sign.

Mr Darcy was rubbing his chin, effectively covering his mouth, but his eyes gave him away. A light had been lit—one of hope. He was not exactly smiling, but there was certainly no fury that he could detect.

This was interesting… He wondered who could bear the silence the longest. His daughter won the competition; Mr Darcy spoke first.

“This is grave, very grave indeed. I must add that if the signature GW refers to whom I think it does, he is not a man to be trifled with. Yet, I cannot imagine he has the mental capacity nor the means to arrange this on his own. He must be working with someone, or for someone, of greater consequence.”

The Earl of Longbourn decided to give his daughter and probable future son a reprieve and questioned Mr Darcy further about this Wickham fellow’s history and habits.

“Ralph, the groom at Ramsgate, asserted that the kidnappers’ carriage boasted a set of four perfectly matched greys. The horses belie the idea that Wickham could accomplish this by himself. He simply does not have the funds.

“The other three men were described as formidable but poorly dressed ruffians. I have even greater doubts that they have the understanding or capital necessary. There must be someone else behind this, but I cannot for the life of me, especially taking this new development into consideration, imagine who it could be. Who would benefit from my marriage to your daughter?” Mr Darcy asked in bewilderment.

“Someone who loathes both of us, judging by the turn of their phrasing,” the earl determined.

“May I see it?” Mr Darcy enquired.

“Certainly!”

The earl handed him the letter, written in the same feminine hand as the previous note. He could hardly bring himself to believe what it contained.

… We shall release Lady Catherine Bennet as soon as Mr Darcy and Lady Elizabeth are wed.

May I suggest a special licence?

I know neither Mr Darcy nor Lady Elizabeth will look upon the union with favour, but their disinclination must be overcome if they want to see all their sisters returned alive and well.

So far, no harm has come to the girls.

The mutual dislike between Mr Darcy and Lady Elizabeth, from the moment they met, is commonly known in society.

May I offer the comfort that their common trait of stubbornness will guide their relationship?

Mr Darcy’s rude remarks must be fought with Lady Elizabeth’s sharp tongue to gain the felicity they both are so deserving of.

May I offer my sincerest regrets that by my machinations, Lady Jane will be deprived of one suitor. She is an exceptional lady, and it is my fervent hope that she will make a better match sometime in the future.

Lastly, I would suggest the wedding be held at Darcy House. Mr Darcy’s fastidious character should ensure the guests’ attire will be returned to its rightful owners.

The time and place to collect Lady Catherine will be revealed as soon as the wedding vows have been uttered.

Georgiana will be the next lady to be released.

GW

“George Wickham cannot be the author of this drivel. He was not present at any of the events referred to in this letter. The remark made at the Stanford ball he may have read in the gossip section of The Times, but there are too many details here for it to have been written by someone not present at the other events. Besides, this person knows Lady Elizabeth in person. May I remind you that George Wickham has never met your daughter.”

“You are correct, he has not,” Longbourn agreed.

“I doubt it is someone close to us, though, because the number of misunderstandings and misinterpretations are staggering. He knows my character, but he does not know that Lady Kitty is never referred to as Lady Catherine by her family. He also seems to have conjectured an animosity between me and Lady Elizabeth that is at best grossly exaggerated. Though I only speak for myself—I do not pretend to know how the lady feels…” Mr Darcy admitted, glancing at Elizabeth.

“My thoughts exactly, both in yours and my daughter’s cases, to be honest, and I think it is time to be unerringly so,” he entreated.

“What do you mean?” Mr Darcy enquired.

“You and my Lizzy must marry,” he stated, brooking no opposition. Another bout of silence stretched out that grated on Lord Longbourn’s barely contained equanimity. “Are you two willing to sacrifice the lives of your sisters by procrastinating before making the inevitable decision?”

“It is not how I had imagined getting married,” Mr Darcy muttered.

“No, life rarely turns out how you imagine it. It has this annoying tendency to disregard all your preliminary plans and replace them with something entirely different. That is not to say it is a dreadful thing to occasionally change one’s opinion.

I myself had not intended to marry at all until my uncle and cousin died and this vivacious creature, full of life and spirit, chased away my resolve.

Not a tall, blonde heiress but, well, she was blonde but otherwise she met none of my expectations in a wife.

Yet, she managed to steal my heart so profoundly I was barely able to keep it in my chest. Despite all our differences, of which there were many, I loved her.

I still do to the point where I could not imagine marrying another, even after she no longer graces this earth with her silly nothings and fluttering nerves.

You may call me mad, but it does not affect my belief that you cannot plan everything and that blessings that come into your life, unsought, are the greatest gifts of all. ”

Elizabeth was staring at him with watery eyes.

It was to be hoped that her tears were due to his heartfelt proclamations about his love for her mother.

The relationship between him and his wife had been of a peculiar kind and might on occasion have seemed fraught with adversity.

But he had doted upon Mrs Bennet, even when they were arguing, which was not a rare occurrence.

“Do you know the Archbishop of Canterbury?” Mr Darcy enquired, ending the earl’s pleasant ruminations.

“Yes, I do. When I was a mere lad, I helped him elope with his cousin Mary Thoroton. His family fervently opposed the marriage. If any man should understand the urgency of young love, it is he. I shall send him a note promptly. Be prepared to go to Addington Palace and present your case, Mr Darcy. You had better display more affection than you feel rather than expressing those sentiments you just served your new father. I do not think, I need to marry to save my sister, will suffice in this situation. Did you know that the archbishop has been blessed with ten daughters? Makes my little brood appear like nothing, but of course he also fathered two sons.”

Mr Darcy glanced at his betrothed. A small sigh escaped him, which made Elizabeth frown. Lord Longbourn wanted to sigh himself. The two youngsters in front of him would make a wretched beginning if they did not soon become honest with themselves and admit to their feelings.

“Your honesty seems unfailing at the moment, Father. I am prepared to do my duty to my family.” Elizabeth cast Mr Darcy a furtive look. “But Mr Darcy may not relish the thought of fathering only female progeny to continue his ancient Darcy line…”

“I expected nothing less, Elizabeth, although honesty seems to be failing you lately.”

Her head snapped in his direction, and her mother’s lovely green eyes shot daggers at him.

“Whatever do you mean, Father?” she enquired sharply.

“That, you will have to discover for yourself. I shall give you the credit that I do not think you are aware of it. Now, leave me in peace so that I can compose a letter to the archbishop.”

Elizabeth rose promptly, and Mr Darcy followed her example.

#

Darcy and Lady Elizabeth regarded each other in silence outside Lord Longbourn’s study. The awkwardness was palpable, yet neither knew of what to speak.

“It feels like I am forever offering you apologies, but for what it is worth, I am sorry it has come to this.”

Elizabeth would not look at him; her eyes darted everywhere but at his face.

“It is as unpalatable to you as it is to me, Mr Darcy. You have no reason to apologise for something that is forced upon you by others. The kidnappers and this George Wickham must take the blame.”

“Thank you,” he whispered softly.

“I have matters to arrange if there is to be a wedding here in the near future. Goodbye, Mr Darcy.”

His future wife curtsied and hurried off. Why was he left with the impression that she was about to cry? Oh yes, she was to be married against her will, against her inclination, and against her better judgment.

He busied himself with writing an express to call Richard home from Ramsgate. He wanted him to attend the wedding.

#