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Story: The Deception

H aving waved the Bingleys and the Hursts off, Mr. Darcy was intent on leaving for London at once.

In this desire, however, he was to be frustrated.

Georgiana’s companion, Mrs. Annesley, was away nursing a sick sister, and Georgiana protested vehemently against being left alone at Pemberley.

Could she not accompany her brother to London and visit with her aunt and uncle, the Earl and Countess of Matlock?

Thus, instead of a two day, desperate dash southward to London on horseback, Mr. Darcy found himself in a carriage with his sister for four days complete.

She was not a difficult traveler by any means – indeed, she was a most agreeable companion – but a young lady cannot travel without frequent stops, and Mr. Darcy could not help but chafe at the delays.

When they finally arrived at Matlock House in the late afternoon of the fourth day, the Earl and Countess were delighted to have their young great-niece for a visit.

His aunt assured him, “Georgiana will have a good deal of entertainment here at Matlock House while you are busy with whatever matters bring you to Town, so leave her with us as long as you like; we are quite happy to have her!”

Mr. Darcy thanked his aunt, kissed her and his sister, and made his way to Darcy House, where he had an early supper. The next morning, he was up shortly after dawn, ready to begin his search.

He recalled some of Wickham’s favourite drinking establishments, so he spent the first day visiting those, asking if anyone had seen George Wickham.

The usual response was no, sometimes accompanied by threats of violence if Wickham ever showed his face again.

Evidently, Wickham had acquired a good number of gambling debts that had never been paid.

The next day, Mr. Darcy considered another avenue of investigation.

The road from Brighton into Town was dotted with pubs that also had rooms above stairs; these seemed a likely place for Wickham and Lydia to have stayed.

He spoke with the landlords at John Barleycorn, The Hop Pole, The King’s Head, The Mash Tun, and several more.

But by the time he reached The Three Barrels, he had become weary of hearing that no, no one had seen a man in uniform with a young girl or – equally commonly, but rather dishearteningly – hearing that such a pairing was seen several times every night.

The landlord at The George said that such a pair had come in, the man dressed in a militia uniform, but the price of a room was evidently too high for the officer’s purse and the two had climbed back into the carriage.

“Which way did they go?” Mr. Darcy asked, eagerly.

The innkeeper simply shrugged.

Mr. Darcy realised that he had been deceiving himself as to the ease of his task.

His present plan of attack was futile. He could not go to every inn and pub in London; it simply could not be done.

It was likely that Mrs. Younge would know where Wickham was hiding; but where was she?

He knew she owned a boarding house somewhere in London, but where?

He climbed back into his carriage and went to speak with his man of business, Mr. Dawton.

***

“You are certain that the pair went to London?” Mr. Dawton queried.

“I do not know that anything is certain, but that is the best information we have.”

“And this Mrs. Younge? Have we any clue at all as to the location of her boarding house, Mr. Darcy?”

“None.”

“Mr. Darcy…” The man looked at him in exasperation.

“I know, Dawton, it seems a hopeless task, but I am committed to finding the girl.”

“As you know, there is no central registration of property titles, but local deed registries often store such information. I suppose I could have enquiries made into such registries.”

“Yes. And what about Bow Street Runners? Might they not be hired?”

“They are a rather disorganized lot, Mr. Darcy, but we can try.”

Mr. Darcy returned to Darcy House feeling quite discouraged. He was honour-bound to find Miss Lydia, but he was no longer so certain that it could be accomplished. What was he to do?