Page 19 of Lord Lonbourn’s Daughter

When he awoke the next morning the bed beside him was cold and empty—he must have slept late. It was not surprising, given that he had tossed and turned for most of the night. Elizabeth could not have got much sleep either—not that it had deterred her from rising early.

He rose and found his valet waiting for him in the dressing room, which was another sign he was indeed late. He dressed and went straight to Longbourn’s study to pen a note requesting Bingley meet him at White’s at noon. They would both need fortification before that conversation.

He handed the short note to Lord Longbourn’s trusted butler and requested that the rider wait for a reply.

The breakfast parlour was full of occupants who seemed nearly finished with their meal.

“Good morning!” He smiled, abashed.

“Good morning,” Elizabeth replied swiftly, but she did not smile at him as she had done the previous morning.

She looked tired, like she had not slept well at all, which was not so strange taking their current circumstances into consideration.

He had failed her, been too tied up with his own concerns to be of any comfort to his wife.

Worse yet, he had little enough time to rectify it with everything he had to sort out before the day was over.

What he could do was show interest in her concerns.

“How is Lady Kitty faring today?” Darcy enquired.

“She is still asleep,” Elizabeth informed him with concern etched on her face.

“I hope you will give her my regards when she awakens.” He tried to keep his own worries from his voice.

“Are you leaving so soon?”

“Yes, I am afraid I must. I have an appointment with Mr Bingley.”

Which was true but was not the whole truth.

He squirmed in his seat; deceit of any kind was abhorrent to him, even by evasion.

Darcy left his wife before he had to perjure himself any further and entered White’s an hour before he was due to meet Bingley.

He found a seat at a table and opened his paper, appearing to read while his ears were fixed on the gossip floating round the room.

He had not read many paragraphs before an unwelcome guest flung himself down at his table.

“Good morning, Darcy, have you eaten?”

“Yes, I breakfasted at home.” Darcy rattled his paper in the hope of discouraging the man from conversation.

“Feeding the eyes in town but eating at home, are we?”

Mr Davies had the audacity to wink at him before his eyes followed an extraordinarily fine example of the female form, passing outside the window.

“Ah, the blessings of a newly wedded gentleman,” the man said sighing in contentment.

Mr Davies had no reason to know as he had never entered the wedded state himself, compelling Darcy to limit his reply to a scowl.

The parson’s son had more debts than possessions and was by no means a person he would call a friend—nor a gentleman.

The door opened, and a hush fell over the room.

Darcy did not need to turn to know that his first appointment had arrived.

Lord Lucius Hazard suited his name perfectly; he was a renowned gambler, a rake, and an excellent rider whose reputation was known far and wide.

He was reputed to have participated in and won several duels on the field of honour, but a gentleman would never kiss and tell.

He frowned at Mr Davies, who immediately understood. The parson’s son rose and excused himself to offer the newcomer his seat.

“I did not take you for a gambler, Darcy,” Lord Hazard pronounced in his low, rumbling voice. “I was rather surprised by your request.”

“I have been known to take the occasional bet here at White’s,” he protested. It would not do to raise too many questions.

“Mistake me not, Darcy. Your challenge is accepted, but I thought a hundred guineas was a little stingy for a wealthy gentleman like yourself. I thought a thousand would be more of an incentive to beat you.”

“Agreed,” he replied as indifferently as he could muster. His sister’s life depended upon Lord Hazard’s acceptance.

“That was easy. Perhaps I should have asked for ten thousand,” the man taunted him.

“You will have to beat me first, and I shall receive the same if I beat you!”

Lord Hazard barked a laugh. “That will never happen! You know it as well as I… Now, where do you want to suffer your defeat?”

“Gentleman Jackson’s?” Darcy needed the fight to gain notice. “Preferably before the fashionable hour. Would ten o’clock in the morning be too early?”

“No, I shall not yet have gone to bed. When?”

“Wednesday.”

“Let us write it down in the book. That way you cannot wriggle yourself out of it should your current bravery fail you.”

Darcy did not deign to acknowledge the insult with an answer.

The gentlemen both went to the betting book and jotted down:

Mr Darcy bets Lord Hazard 1000 gs to 1000 gs that he can beat him at pugilism. The fight will take place at Gentleman Jackson’s on May 20 th , 1812.

The gentlemen shook hands, and Lord Hazard left, mumbling about going to sleep.

Bingley was in a good mood when he arrived. He had won a bet two days ago when Darcy had married a titled lady; the likelihood of which he had put ten guineas towards in the betting book at White’s. He had to stop on the way to see whether there was anything new.

“See, Darcy, oh there is a new bet with your name on it. Beau Brummel has put a hundred guineas on you having fathered a daughter within a twelvemonth,” he called.

Darcy huffed while hoping Bingley had not looked at the next page. Fortunately for him, his friend had become waylaid greeting acquaintances before he finally joined him.

“I have booked a private parlour. Follow me,” Darcy invited his friend.

“That has an ominous ring to it. I wonder what could haul you away from your wife during your honeymoon.”

Honeymoon? Not for a second had he spared one thought towards a bridal trip for himself and his wife.

Circumstances would certainly not allow it at the moment, nor in the immediate future.

If—no he must think when… When Georgiana was safe at home, he would not leave her side for any reason.

Not even a private sojourn with Elizabeth enticed him.

Darcy ordered a bottle of port and closed the door.

“I have a request to make of you, Bingley, but first I shall relate circumstances that I implore you not to repeat to anyone. Not even to your closest family.”

Bingley’s sombre countenance was in stark contrast to his usual mood. He nodded solemnly, allowing Darcy to tell his story from the journey to Ramsgate until this day, when he had challenged a brute to fisticuffs at Gentleman Jackson’s.

“What a horrible situation, Darcy! I hardly know what to say…”

“I have not made my request of you yet. You may withhold your verdict until then,” Darcy warned.

“I am not fighting you!”

“No. The kidnappers demand that Lady Jane marry you to free Georgiana.”

“And you must fight a notorious ruffian?” Bingley exclaimed in disgust.

“Yes,” Darcy confirmed.

“So, that is why you married Mrs Darcy?” Bingley enquired.

“Yes and no. I admit that I would have married Elizabeth regardless of the demands, but I seriously doubt that she would have consented had it not been to save her sister.”

“You sell yourself too short, Darcy. I have yet to meet a female who did not want to marry you.”

“Lady Jane?”

“Very well, Lady Jane does not seem to favour you. But you are a good man. You can change Lady Elizabeth’s mind simply by letting her see the man hidden underneath that forbidding expression of yours.

I cannot imagine the strain you are under, Darcy, but you tend to hide it behind a stern countenance. ”

“The situation lends little gaiety, Bingley.”

“When all this is over, you will have time to rectify your first impression.”

Would he though? Darcy could not help but think that this would never be over.

Even if they managed to bring all the girls home, what horrors had they experienced?

Would he ever feel safe again, or would he always be looking over his shoulder, gauging whether anyone was likely to harm one of his loved ones?

“Will you marry Lady Jane?” he enquired because Bingley had not answered him.

“Of course! I had intended to ask her to marry me at my earliest convenience. You know Caroline is in favour of the match. I had never thought that I would find anyone who was good enough for her, but Lady Jane meets her exacting standards. Although her dowry could have been more substantial, no one could fault the lady herself.”

Darcy allowed one uncharitable thought to enter his mind: Lady Jane was above what Miss Bingley could reasonably expect.

“Thank you, Bingley. Lord Longbourn and I shall apply for a licence forthwith. I shall notify you once we have obtained it, but in case it is denied, I ask you to wait until we have a favourable answer before you inform your family. It is to be hoped that the archbishop will be able to see us soon.”

“Of course, Darcy. Anything you say.”

“Thank you, Bingley, you are a true friend.”

Darcy left a smiling Bingley at White’s whilst thoroughly regretting having made his next appointment with his cousin. Not that he minded their assignment nor his cousin, but he was too distraught to keep his mind on the subject at hand—a task he usually would have relished performing.

The viscount would meet him at Tattersalls.

Darcy was to buy a pair of horses for the carriage he had ordered belatedly for his bride—one of his failings he was trying to rectify.

Ideally, he would have preferred to have a wedding ring designed for her especially—another one of his wishes that had to be forfeited in their current circumstances.

An old Darcy heirloom had been his only choice given the limited time; he had always imagined he would order something special for his wife.

Viscount Crawford was waiting for him at the entrance with his arms folded across his chest.

“You are late!” the man complained.