Page 12 of Mr. Darcy’s Forgotten Heir (Pride and Prejudice Variations #1)
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE ERASED MARRIAGE
Elizabeth sat by the window of her uncle’s study with the latest copy of the Morning Post spread across her lap. It was a grim daily ritual, checking the death notices. Her heart stayed in her throat as she searched each column, fearing to see the name of her husband.
No mention again. She let out a breath and touched the ring she now wore on a ribbon around her neck.
Her uncle Gardiner had set out on his investigations well over a week ago. Her letters to Jane had gone unanswered, and Mrs. Gardiner had received no letter from either the Bennets or Elizabeth’s Aunt Philips.
“Hopefully nothing again?” Mrs. Gardiner asked, entering with a tea tray.
Elizabeth folded the newspaper. “Thankfully no. Have you heard anything from your friends?”
“We aren’t in the same social circles,” Mrs. Gardiner said. “Although surely, a man of Darcy’s standing would be noted if he had passed.”
“Perhaps he returned to Pemberley and is not even in the City.” Elizabeth accepted a cup of tea. It seemed to calm her stomach. “Uncle Gardiner should return today, should he not?”
“Barring any delays on the road.” Mrs. Gardiner studied her niece with concern. “You haven’t been sleeping.”
It wasn’t a question. The dark circles beneath Elizabeth’s eyes told their own tale.
“I keep thinking that if he were able, Fitzwilliam would have come for me by now.” Elizabeth’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Something prevents him.”
“Edward should return from his inquiries soon,” her aunt replied, setting the tray down with unusual force. “Though I confess I’m growing more concerned about your health than his investigations.”
Elizabeth looked up, startled by the sharp edge in her aunt’s typically gentle voice. “My health?”
“You’ve eaten practically nothing for days. You’re pale as parchment, and don’t think I haven’t noticed you rushing from the breakfast table each morning.” Mrs. Gardiner’s eyes were kind but determined. “Perhaps it’s time we consulted a physician.”
“Absolutely not. I’m perfectly well. The worry is?—”
“The worry is making you ill,” Mrs. Gardiner finished. “And that serves no one, least of all your husband should he return and find you in such a state.”
“He will return, won’t he?” Elizabeth held onto the fact that Darcy was fastidiously responsible. “Even if he’d decided the marriage was a mistake, he would deal with it honorable.”
“Something has happened to prevent him.” Mrs. Gardiner placed a gentle hand on Elizabeth’s shoulder. “Your uncle will call again at Darcy House.”
Elizabeth bit her fingernails. “Do you think they’d give him any news?”
The last time Mr. Gardiner had called, the butler simply said that no one was taking calls. When her uncle pressed him whether Mr. Darcy was in town, the butler had refused to give the information .
“He will announce that he has business with Darcy.”
“That maybe true.” Elizabeth opened her husband’s portable writing desk. “There’s correspondence. Bills and notices. I didn’t mean to pry, but…”
“Darcy would not have left this with you if he hadn’t planned on returning,” Mrs. Gardiner said. “Please, Lizzy, come down to the breakfast room.”
Elizabeth managed a weak smile, and followed her aunt down the stairs. The front door opened and three figures appeared from the entryway—her uncle, her sister Mary, and a lady’s maid. Behind them, a footman brought in their traveling cases.
“Mary?” Elizabeth hurried the last few steps, almost slipping as she caught herself by the banister.
“Lizzy.” Mary’s voice cracked on the name, and Elizabeth rushed forward to embrace her middle sister. Mary felt thin in her arms, almost fragile.
“What has happened?” Elizabeth asked, pulling back to search her sister’s face. “Is everyone well at Longbourn?”
Mary’s eyes filled with tears. “Oh, Lizzy, no one is well.”
Elizabeth held her sister tightly, alarm coursing through her at Mary’s obvious distress. Over Mary’s head, she met her uncle’s grim gaze.
Mr. Gardiner removed his hat and gloves with sharp, angry movements “Perhaps we should move to the parlor. There is much to discuss, and none of it suited to the entryway.”
Mrs. Gardiner immediately rang for tea and refreshment while Elizabeth guided her sister into the parlor.
Once they were settled, Mr. Gardiner ran a hand over his face, red with either the nippy air or anger. Elizabeth braced herself, recognizing the look of a man about to deliver unwelcome news.
“I did not send word ahead of our arrival because there was no time. Events at Longbourn have deteriorated rapidly.”
“Our parents?” Elizabeth asked, tightening her grip on Mary’s hand .
“In good health, physically at least.” Mr. Gardiner’s tone suggested their mental state might be another matter entirely. “But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me begin with my inquiries regarding your husband.”
“You found him? Is he well?”
“I did not find him, but I do not believe he is well.” Mr. Gardiner’s expression was grave. “This time, his butler informed me that Mr. Darcy was ‘indisposed’ and not receiving visitors. When I pressed for more information, I was firmly but politely shown the door.”
“Indisposed,” Elizabeth repeated. “Not absent, not traveling—indisposed.”
“Yes, which suggests he is there, but unable or unwilling to receive callers.”
“But surely if I were to go myself.” Elizabeth’s heart leaped. “Did you leave a message?”
“No.” Mr. Gardiner’s tone brooked no argument. “A merchant like myself was already treated with barely concealed disdain. A young woman claiming to be Mrs. Darcy would be shown the door immediately, if not worse.”
“And the marriage records at Barnet?” Mrs. Gardiner asked, pouring tea for her husband and Mary.
Mr. Gardiner accepted the cup with a nod of thanks. “The innkeeper claimed no knowledge of any wedding taking place at his establishment. When I described the circumstances in detail, he merely shrugged and suggested I had been misinformed.”
“That’s impossible,” Elizabeth protested. “He was a witness. He signed the registry himself.”
“There was no registry page,” Mr. Gardiner said quietly. “I examined it personally. No record of any marriage on that date.”
Elizabeth felt as though the floor had dropped away beneath her. “And Reverend Michaels?”
“Said to be traveling up north, according to the local parish. No one could say precisely where.”
“This makes no sense.” Elizabeth’s voice rose slightly. “Why would anyone go to such lengths to erase all evidence of our marriage?”
Mr. Gardiner shook his head. “I cannot say with certainty, but I suspect deliberate sabotage. Though of course I have no proof.”
“By who?” Mrs. Gardiner asked. “Certainly no one would have expected…”
“Mr. Darcy has powerful connections,” Mr. Gardiner said heavily. “Money can change testimonies, alter documents, render people hard to locate.”
A chill snaked its way down Elizabeth’s spine. Hadn’t she seen how easily Darcy’s coin had purchased compliance? Smoothed the way? But no, Darcy was too honorable to…
“Did you inquire about the attack on the road?” Mrs. Gardiner asked, interrupting Elizabeth’s spiraling thoughts.
“I did. Local gossip confirms there have been several highwaymen attacks on gentlemen in recent days.” Mr. Gardiner frowned.
“Some say a gentleman matching Mr. Darcy’s description was among those attacked, but the accounts differ.
One version holds that the victim was taken to a local physician.
When I went to inquire at the physician’s house, it was empty.
Neighbors said the doctor had taken a patient back to London some days ago. ”
“To London,” Elizabeth repeated, grasping at this slender thread. “Perhaps that explains why Darcy is at his home but ‘indisposed.’ Perhaps he was brought there to recover.”
“It’s possible,” Mr. Gardiner acknowledged. “Though without being able to gain entrance to Darcy House, I cannot confirm it.”
Elizabeth felt for Darcy’s signet ring, resting underneath her chemise close to her heart. “He would come for me if he could. Something prevents him.”
“Or someone,” Mr. Gardiner added grimly.
Elizabeth looked up sharply. “You believe this is more than misfortune. You suspect deliberate interference.”
“I do.” Mr. Gardiner glanced at Mary, then back to Elizabeth. “For all evidence of your marriage to be systematically erased suggests someone with considerable influence and motivation.”
“George Wickham,” Elizabeth said without hesitation. “He was there at the inn, trying to convince me I was delusional about my marriage. He claimed Darcy had sent him to take me to a sanatorium.”
Mr. Gardiner nodded. “The innkeeper’s wife remembers his visit, though she claims not to recall any wedding. She did, however, mention seeing you leave with the Honywoods.”
“At least that part of my account remains unchallenged,” Elizabeth said bitterly.
“There was… one other piece of gossip,” Mr. Gardiner said, hesitating. “Less credible, but perhaps worth mentioning.”
“What was it?” Elizabeth asked, steeling herself.
“There were whispers that perhaps the gentleman in question had decided to renege on the wedding.” Mr. Gardiner’s discomfort was evident. “That he had second thoughts about a hasty marriage to a woman of… lesser standing.”
Elizabeth flinched as if her mother had slapped her. “Fitzwilliam Darcy is a man of honor. He would never abandon me, nor deny our marriage.”
“I believe you, Lizzy,” Mr. Gardiner said gently. “I merely report what was said.”
Mary, who had remained silent until now, placed a hand on Elizabeth’s arm. “It is easier for people to believe a gentleman rejected a penniless young woman than to believe someone would go to such lengths to erase a legal marriage. The former happens every day. The latter suggests a conspiracy.”
“Thank you, Mary.” Elizabeth’s voice was clipped. “But you haven’t told us why you’ve come to London. What’s happened at Longbourn?”