Page 106 of Sketching Mr. Darcy

“Robert, send Stevens to fetch your father. He should be there when I find his sister. And your offer to kill Wickham is most welcome. I should have taken your advice years ago.”

“But where are you heading?”

“To Mrs Younge’s house—how stupid I have been not to think of this before!”

***

It was midnight when Darcy, his cousin, and his friend arrived at the house kept by Mrs Younge. They had first gone to Lady Catherine’s house but—as expected—with no success.

Mrs Younge appeared frightened the moment she laid eyes on them. The conversation was harsh and lasted longer than Darcy would have wished before the lure of a hundred pounds induced her to confess.

She declared that Wickham had stayed at her house several times in the last month, but she had only seen him briefly in the last days.

She admitted that she had loaned him a carriage, for which she had been paid entirely, and she did not expect to retrieve it.

She insisted she knew nothing more except that he had left earlier that day after generously paying all his expenses.

And yes, she confirmed he was dressed in his uniform.

After more coercion, threats—and another fifty pounds—Mrs Younge remembered she heard Wickham say something about the Bull and Mouth Inn, and Darcy recollected that the three thieves mentioned it as the place where they were supposed to take Elizabeth.

Darcy’s carriage arrived at the new destination rather quickly, and just as they were about to enter, a man approach them and declared he and two others were hired by Mr Bourne to watch the inn but had found nothing suspicious so far .

A short conversation with the owner was enough for Darcy, and a few minutes later, he entered the room where Wickham was enjoying the favours of a young girl.

At their entrance, he cursed and the girl cried and left the room in a great hurry while Wickham tried to put his clothes on.

His uniform lay on the floor in a corner of the room.

“I have long wondered how stupid you can be, Wickham, but today I have the answer.”

Darcy sat in a chair, struggling against his anger and the pain along his ribs. The colonel and Bingley remained at the door.

“Look, Darcy, I know you are angry, but I did nothing wrong. Surely, you know that your aunt asked me to bring Miss Bennet—I mean Mrs Darcy—to speak to her. You cannot hold me culpable for that.”

Darcy moved forward, his jaw clenched in anger.

“You planned to kidnap my wife! You put her life in danger, as well as the lives of other innocent people! I warned you to stay away from my family, and you planned to kidnap my wife! I should kill you right now!”

Wickham stepped back. “Let us talk calmly. As I said, your aunt asked me to bring Mrs Darcy to her. Nobody would consider that a crime. It was only an unfortunate accident that the carriage crashed—and honestly, it was mostly your fault. Come now—I am certain you would not want to cause a scandal. Just imagine what people would say if they knew your aunt found such a questionable way to talk to your wife. Not to mention my close connection to your family—”

“Wickham, your stupidity amazes me. Surely, you cannot think to force my hand by threatening scandal!”

Darcy yelled, red-faced, moving closer to Wickham, who stepped back until he reached the wall.

“I would exchange your life and my aunt’s life in a heartbeat for a single bruise on my wife!

You try to threaten me? You think I care about scandal?

I will strangle you with my bare hands! You deserve to die like the rat you are! ”

Darcy was so close that his body almost touched Wickham’s, and he clenched his fists to control his fury as he continued to shout.

“You almost murdered a child of nine who is ten times better than you! If I do not kill you this moment, I will surely do so if Peter does not recover! You may take that as a promise!”

“Surely, you cannot hold me responsible,” Wickham said impertinently. “He should have stayed away. Who asked him to run after the carriage like a fool?”

“Wickham, shut your mouth! Shut—your—mouth! Stupid idiot!” Darcy breathed deeply and withdrew a few steps.

The colonel left and returned a minute later with the two men hired to watch the inn and also Mr Bourne himself, whose unexpected appearance did not surprise Darcy.

“Sir, we will guard Mr Wickham and lock him in gaol for now. He will have the chance to defend himself later. Come,” Mr Bourne said, his men holding Wickham’s arms.

“What should I do to him? He is either a complete fool or the most shameless of men. He deserves to rot in a prison hulk and even worse! How did he fall so low? He is my father’s godson! What is to be done with him? And Lady Catherine—I must find her at once!”

He descended the stairs of the inn, drawing the attention of a number of curious people. He entered the carriage, followed by the colonel and Bingley.

“So, Cousin, what do you plan to do now? And what if you find Lady Catherine? What will you do? Surely, you will not have her held for trial—”

“Why does she deserve less? She is responsible for all that happened!”

“Come, Darcy, let us speak calmly…”

“Robert, don’t you dare repeat Wickham’s words!” Darcy’s anger turned on his cousin.

“I will not, but this needs to be discussed calmly. And, surely, you do not intend to go after Lady Catherine now! You should let Bourne’s men discover her whereabouts first.”

“She is likely on her way back to Rosings. It is to her advantage to be found at home in case anyone questions her. Let us fetch the earl if you want, but I am going tonight. I want to be done with this. I want to return home to my wife and tell her she is safe.”

“You should go home, rest, and speak to your wife then decide tomorrow.”

“I am going to Kent,” Darcy concluded. “Bingley, please remain at my house and tell Elizabeth what happened. Tell her not to worry. We will settle this entire situation tonight. There is no need for you to waste time with us on the road. We three are enough.”

“Admit that you do not want to enter your house because you do not want to see Elizabeth. You are afraid she will make you see reason and stay home,” the colonel insisted.

“Of course, I admit that. Once I see Elizabeth, I will not want to leave her.”

It was past midnight when the carriage stopped at Darcy House to drop off Bingley then moved on in haste.

At the Matlocks’, however, they had to wait half an hour, increasing Darcy’s agitation.

Lord Matlock was deeply disturbed by the latest news, demanding to be informed how they could suspect his sister of such an outrageous plan.

“I am afraid you are making a big mistake, and I cannot allow you to accuse my sister out of hand. How can you even consider believing a child of eight without further proof?”

“Uncle, we are leaving in a few minutes. Please decide whether you will come with us or not. It is not just that Libby was correct so far—and I have every reason to trust her—but Wickham confirmed it.”

“Wickham—bloody scoundrel!”

The earl’s opposition diminished as Darcy’s impatience increased. The colonel—more clear-headed—brought along drinks and food as it was expected they would travel the entire night. When they were about to leave, they were surprised by Mr Bourne’s arrival.

“I searched for you at home, and Mr Bingley informed me I might find you here. We continued our search based on what Wickham told us. My men discovered that Lady Catherine de Bourgh—or a lady of her description—was seen exiting London in the direction of Kent four hours ago. Should we follow her? I may go in person.”

“We already suspected that—in fact, we are ready to travel to Kent as we speak. You may join us. Your presence might be needed.”

Two carriages moved at a quick pace along the frozen city streets and beyond. They stopped at each tavern and inn along their route, inquiring for more information. Darcy grew increasingly anxious. He never pondered what he would do once he met his aunt. He only wished to be done with it.

“I believe Lady Catherine should be kept under continuous care. We can all see that she is not well,” Darcy heard himself saying.

“What do you mean ‘continuous care’?” The earl’s expression was incredulous.

“She must not be allowed to live where she wants! She is out of her mind and dangerous! I have heard that Bedlam is rebuilding at St. George’s Fields in Southwark.

It should be ready in a couple of years.

We should make a donation and assure her a comfortable residence.

Until then, we will hire additional servants to keep her supervised. ”

“Darcy, have you lost your mind too? You cannot be serious. This is outrageous!” The earl paled in distress, but Darcy—cold and calm—continued.

“Either that or I shall ask Mr Bourne to confine her and put her before a judge. I will leave the decision to you, Uncle, once we find her. But those are your only choices.”

Lord Matlock continued to provide Darcy with reasons against his intentions, but all met little success as Darcy’s gaze was fixed outside, counting the horses’ steps.

They stopped at another inn to change horses, and again, Mr Bourne gathered information. He confirmed that Lady Catherine had left her own carriage at the inn several days ago and purchased a simpler one that she had taken and returned a few hours earlier.

“This is really a plan born of madness!” said the colonel. “Can you imagine how much she plotted? Father, I believe Darcy’s suggestion of Bedlam is the only acceptable one.

“But…is it certain beyond a doubt that it was Lady Catherine de Bourgh?” the earl asked.

“Her identity is certain, milord: first, because of the carriage and, second, because she entered into a very unpleasant argument with some drunk men who were singing loudly. Lady Catherine—I was told—expressed her disapproval in a very harsh manner and demanded silence. She even attempted to pay them to ‘not hear or see their faces for as long as she was in the inn.’ At the men’s vulgar response, she disclosed her identity and threatened that they would be properly punished. ”

Lord Matlock arranged his gloves nervously. All his attempts to disbelieve her culpability proved to be misplaced.

They resumed the journey at a slow pace due to the bad weather, and an hour and a half later, they reached another inn—just as they entered Kent. There, however, nobody had seen anyone remotely resembling Lady Catherine de Bourgh, who—the owner declared—he knew quite well.

Mr Bourne proposed they rest while he sent his three men and two other servants from the inn to inquire about the houses and taverns in the area. Inside, they ordered food and drinks, waiting impatiently.

“Mr Darcy, forgive my impropriety, but may ask how you discovered the identity of the persons behind this situation? I mean Wickham and Lady Catherine de Bourgh. When we first spoke, you had no clues about who it was, and you did not even mention the presence of a lady. I am just curious. I want to know why my efficiency was not at its best this time.”

“Do not worry, your efficiency was impressive, and you will be paid the entire sum for all the men involved in the search. How did we discover their identity? With the help of an eight-year-old girl. Is that not strange? The children of a servant, whom we brought into the house to offer them shelter, helped us discover the vicious plan against my family—made by someone from inside my family.”

“Darcy…” The earl attempted to censure his words.

“It is the simple truth, Uncle. Let us not discuss it further as I am already very angry.”

One by one, the men sent in quest returned without any news. The last one, however, entered impatiently, clearly distressed.

“Sir, I— You had better come with me this moment. Take your carriage and follow me.”

A quarter of an hour later on the road back towards London on a hidden path, split from the main road and covered by the night and a small hill with trees full of snow, they found a broken carriage that none of them failed to recognise.

They hurried to it. A little further away was the coachman, shot dead.

On the ground near the carriage was Lady Catherine de Bourgh—lifeless, silenced in stillness, her face and body in great disorder, revealing signs of violent abuse.

She wore a brown coat, a brown bonnet with many folds, and a dark green scarf around her neck. Just as Libby had said.

The shock stunned them. Lord Matlock knelt by his sister and gently arranged her clothes. The colonel helped his father put the body in their carriage. Darcy stood back, watching.

Mr Bourne searched the ground carefully, declaring there were footsteps from at least four men. He asked the Earl whether he had found Lady Catherine’s reticule or any other bag, but he received no answer.

“Mr Darcy, we will continue our quest. I trust we will shortly find who has done this. It appears to be a robbery. I wonder how it was possible that her ladyship travelled in the middle of the night with only the coachman as chaperone—even more so that she supposedly carried a large sum of money.”

“Yes…yes…you do that, Mr Bourne,” Darcy said absentmindedly.

Lord Matlock and the colonel laid Lady Catherine on the bench.

The earl turned to Darcy. “All has ended now. We must take her home to Rosings, Nephew. There is nothing more you can do. We must take care of her funeral—and of her name. We cannot allow any details to slip out to the world. She was your mother’s sister. She is your family.”

Darcy was frozen in a silence he could not overcome. He stared at his uncle—whom he heard but barely understood—at his cousin, at the men searching the ground outside, then glanced back at his late aunt, transfigured by death, lying only a few inches away.

“Do what is needed, Uncle. This is truly the end. But I will go home to my wife this very moment. She is my closest family now. She is my life now, and she was almost taken from me. I am going back to her, and I will try to put everything else aside. But I cannot forget nor forgive, at least not for now… Maybe in time… God help us all… I am going home.”

“But Darcy, how? We need your carriage to go to Rosings…”

“Of course you do—use my carriage. Mr Bourne, can you take me back to the inn? I shall find a means of transportation to London.”