Page 26 of Mission to Meryton (Pride and Prejudice Variation #25)
Mrs. Hill entered the room carrying a tea tray, and Charlotte quickly poured a cup for Mr. Collins, heavily sweetened with honey the way he liked it.
She had been surprised when summoned early to Longbourn this morning, and horrified when Elizabeth informed her of the French raid of the Bennet tulips.
She could only praise God that her husband-to-be had survived the attack without serious injury.
/
“Mr. Collins was attacked at Longbourn last night?” Colonel Forster exclaimed with genuine distress.
The raid had been carefully planned to avoid harm to anyone, and he felt a stirring of panic.
If Mr. Collins died, there would be far more scrutiny than if Pratt had confined himself to mere theft. “Is he badly hurt?”
“He was hit on the head, but Mr. Jones, who saw him early this morning, assured us that my cousin will recover fully,” Mr. Bennet declared.
“That is a relief,” Forster said genuinely. “Do you have any idea why he was attacked?”
“The thieves stole some tulip bulbs from our conservatory.”
Forster reminded himself to appear surprised. “Tulips, Mr. Bennet?”
“Yes,” Bennet replied with a glittering smile. “My wife and daughters have been raising tulips and selling them for many years now, but then you already knew that.”
Forster drew in a quick breath of alarm as he drew upon all his acting skills. “I assure you, sir, that I do not understand your meaning in the least!”
“We are aware that you are involved in a French spy ring, Colonel,” a new voice proclaimed from the door.
The colonel turned to see Lieutenant George Wickham step into the parlor with a familiar green notebook in his hand – the notebook that Forster kept hidden beneath his mattress, the one where he kept the details of his French missions.
Forster turned a panicked look on his valet, who glared back at him in clear outrage.
The world suddenly wavered in front of his eyes, and Colonel Forster fainted dead away.
/
“They stole the tulips?” Mrs. Bennet repeated numbly, kneading her fingers in her handkerchief.
“Only the breeders, Mama,” Elizabeth said soothingly, reaching forward to clasp the matron’s unquiet hands, “and all that was stolen was recovered.”
“Why would they take the tulips?” her mother asked softly, her face suddenly old in the morning light coming in the drawing room window.
“Mama, the tulips are worth a great deal,” Elizabeth explained in a comforting tone.
“We do not know all the details yet, but there are, sadly, evil people out there. Fortunately, Mr. Wickham and Mr. Darcy became aware of the plot and intervened. Father received a note this morning that the tulips will be returned to us by midday.”
“Mr. Wickham is entirely amazing!” Lydia exclaimed with an adoring sigh, her eyes dewy with wonder.
“And Mr. Darcy, surely,” Mary suggested.
“Mr. Darcy does not wear a red coat,” her youngest sister riposted.
“It does seem quite unfair of Mr. Wickham,” Elizabeth said impishly. “Is it not enough that the man is handsome and courageous? It is absurd that he also wears a red coat!”
“I suppose I am too young to marry Mr. Wickham,” Lydia continued, ignoring her elder sister.
“Yes, you are,” Mrs. Bennet declared with a hint of her old spirit. “Oh my dears, I declare I have never been so shocked in all my life, and now you tell me that Mr. Collins was struck by one of the robbers! I am not sure I will ever sleep again!”
“The thieves have been captured and are locked up, Mother,” Elizabeth stated firmly. “We are entirely safe.”
/
Georgiana Darcy slipped out of her sitting room and ran toward Darcy as he reached the door of his bedroom at Netherfield.
He had crept in the back way, hoping to avoid all the womenfolk until he could bathe and rest, but while he had successfully avoided Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst, Georgiana had obviously been lying in wait.
The girl threw her arms around her brother and clung to him for a full minute, sobbing softly in relief.
Darcy’s initial instinct was to push her away because he was, frankly, quite filthy.
After he and Wickham had captured Pratt and his superior, they had tied up the two men and forced them into the cart carrying the tulips.
The corpse of the other man they left in the barn, where it would be retrieved by the authorities at a later time.
Wickham and Darcy had returned to Netherfield by first light and locked the two Frenchmen into a convenient abandoned cellar.
Jacob and John, the footmen, had spent the night guarding the Harrigan brothers and were thus exhausted; fortunately, Wickham discovered that four men had arrived from the Army headquarters in London to support him, and three of them took charge of their French prisoners.
The remaining man had been sent to deal with the Harrigans, who were still locked in the Longbourn cellar guarded by a now very fatigued Mrs. Younge.
Darcy had spoken surreptitiously to Mr. Bennet about all that had happened, and then he and Longbourn’s master had collected Sir William Lucas to confront Colonel Forster, who was now locked up along with Pratt and his fellow agent.
Now Darcy was exhausted and filthy and mentally distressed – he had never killed a man, and while he did not regret eliminating the gunman who attempted to shoot Wickham, it was still a shocking experience to take a life.
But Georgie was crying and she would not care if he was grubby.
“I was so worried, Brother!” the girl sobbed softly, tightening her arms around his tall form. “Mrs. Younge was gone all night and you as well, and there was no news at all! I was so afraid!”
“My dear, I am so sorry,” Darcy returned apologetically. “Mr. Wickham and I had an important task to complete, and it took rather longer than expected. But you can see I am entirely unharmed.”
“And Mr. Wickham?”
“He is also very well. Mrs. Younge will be back this afternoon; she is currently resting at Longbourn after an exceptionally wearying night.”
Georgiana tilted her head up and managed a smile through her tears. “I daresay you are not permitted to tell me anything else, Brother?”
“I am afraid that is correct, my dear.”
“Well, I will lay aside my curiosity in favor of gratitude at seeing you safe, but I warn you that you will need to think up something to placate Miss Bingley.”
Darcy shuddered openly at this and replied. “Thank you for the reminder, but for now, I want nothing more than to bathe and sleep.”