Page 92 of The Shades of Pemberley

“No, I suppose it is not.” Fitzwilliam turned a curious look on her. “Do you know anything about her hiring? Your brother was too careful to hire a woman without proper vetting.”

“Nothing of substance,” said Georgiana, shaking her head. “Brother rarely included me in any of his business dealings.”

“That is unimportant now, I suppose,” said Fitzwilliam.

“The salient point is that Mrs. Younge had a previous acquaintance with Wickham, one of more substance than I could pull from her in my haste.

She pursued the position at his instigation and then served as his accomplice and spy in the Darcy household.

“At first, her activities comprised intelligence gathering, but soon after, it turned to plotting. At first, Wickham planned to marry Georgiana, but then he conceived a grander plan—that of gaining Pemberley itself. Of course, he knew nothing of Pemberley’s status.

Mrs. Younge discovered it when I arrived earlier than they planned and summoned Darcy.

Their plans in ruins, they returned to the scheme to marry Georgiana, knowing nothing of the entail’s end. ”

“That was the reason for her insistence on the Ramsgate holiday,” said the earl, terseness displaying his opinion of the plotting pair.

“There, they would have time to persuade Georgiana, and if that did not work, take more direct action. Mrs. Younge could control any correspondence, leaving Georgiana unprotected.”

“Mrs. Younge was convinced the plot would fail by the time she pushed the Ramsgate scheme to you at Netherfield,” said Fitzwilliam. “When she lost hope, Mrs. Younge considered leaving her position, but Wickham threatened to reveal her complicity if she did.”

“Which no doubt led to her surly attitude about the whole thing.”

Fitzwilliam nodded his agreement. “You noted she was unwilling when she pushed it for the last time in London, but Wickham insisted on it. That, of course, led to her downfall—she was right to apprehend that we would begin investigating her if she pushed too hard, but Wickham was impatient.”

“Would you have allowed it?” asked Mr. Bennet, his concentration removing any impression of the languid gentleman he sometimes portrayed. “If Wickham married Georgiana, would you have let him take control of the estate?”

“It is impossible to know what I would have done,” replied the earl after considering the question for a moment.

“The law would have been on his side, but I am influential, and even the crown would not have wanted such a prestigious estate as Pemberley ruined by a man who was not even of gentle stock.”

“How did you discover his guilt?” asked Mrs. Bennet.

Darcy took the lead in telling this tale, accounting for the doubts that had led to suspicion, and the saddle Jameson Darcy had used that fateful day.

Then Fitzwilliam took up the tale to inform the company of his journey, the confrontation with Mrs. Younge, her confession, and their hasty journey back to Pemberley.

“Sunset comes late in the summer,” said Fitzwilliam, with a nod at Darcy. “When it got dark, we were close enough to press on and arrive tonight. Little did I know we would come across Wickham trying to take Mrs. Darcy.”

Fitzwilliam’s comment returned an important point to Darcy’s mind. “Wickham entered our bedchamber through some passage in the walls. I will need to task the butler with mapping them so we can take measures to deny entry.”

“I spoke with Gates on the way into the room,” rumbled the earl. “Wickham had no chance to close the passage from the outside, and he has men in the passage mapping it out.”

Darcy nodded his thanks. “Then I will have him search for any others.”

“That might be the only one,” said Fitzwilliam. “The house is old enough to hide such things, but its path leading straight to the master’s chambers suggests it was built as an escape route.”

“Or to allow silent and unseen entry,” added the earl.

“It may be best to just seal it up and forget about it,” said Darcy. “It is a weakness in the house’s defenses that I do not like.”

Turning to Elizabeth, still nestled close to him, Darcy said: “Did Wickham say anything about the passage after you left with him?”

Elizabeth shook her head. “No. He focused on his cleverness.”

“That is Wickham all right,” said Fitzwilliam, no small measure of disdain seeping into his voice. “Wickham has always been far too impressed with his abilities. That, as much as anything, has ensured his downfall tonight.”

“What happened outside?” pressed Mrs. Bennet. “Thus far, you have said nothing about Elizabeth’s escape.”

“There is not much to say, Mama,” replied Elizabeth. “When we exited the house, Mr. Wickham tried to take me to a horse waiting nearby, but before he could, the approach of Lord Matlock’s carriage distracted him. I used the opportunity to knock the pistol out of his hand and flee.”

The way Mrs. Bennet’s eyes widened to prodigious proportions, the company might have laughed in other circumstances. The mood was so grave that it drew nothing more than a snort from Mr. Bennet.

“Elizabeth Louise Darcy!” cried her mother when she recovered from the shock. “You struck a man holding a weapon? He might have killed you!”

“I think, my dear,” said Bennet, taking his wife’s hand in calm support, “that Elizabeth’s bravery prevented an even greater tragedy. There is no telling what that scoundrel might have done to her had he taken her away.”

“No telling at all,” said Fitzwilliam, his manner deadly serious. “Wickham wanted ransom, of course, but I would not trust him to restrain himself.”

“There is no need to consider such gloomy subjects,” said Mr. Bennet, inserting himself in the discussion, resolved to end it. “Elizabeth freed herself, so that must be the end of the matter. Getting lost in what if is a dangerous prospect, prone to far too much fancy.”

“With that, I must agree, Mr. Bennet,” said Lord Matlock.

“The most important factor of this affair is that Wickham is now in custody and his schemes are at an end. There is no need to remain confined to the house. Unless I have heard awry, the freedom to explore Pemberley to her heart’s content will be agreeable to Mrs. Darcy. ”

Elizabeth recovered enough to respond to his lordship’s tease. “At first light, Lord Matlock. If my husband wishes to accompany me, he may come, but I shall explore Pemberley like I should have the moment we arrived.”

“Excellent, Mrs. Darcy,” replied Lord Matlock. “I think the estate will welcome someone who will appreciate her as she deserves.”

With the formal discussion at an end, the company fell into private conversations with those nearby, the younger girls in a group together, Mrs. Bennet and Mrs. Darcy nearby watching over them, with Bingley, Miss Bingley, and Jane in another tight group.

Lord Matlock stood with Fitzwilliam and Bennet, no doubt discussing next steps surrounding Wickham.

In other circumstances, Darcy might have joined them, but Elizabeth needed him more than he needed to be part of those discussions.

No one in the room did anything other than smile with indulgence at the impropriety of Darcy gathering Elizabeth close to his breast, imparting comfort and a sense of closure.

Never again would they fear the actions of George Wickham against them.

“It truly is over,” breathed Elizabeth as she settled in next to him.

“All but the consequences,” agreed Darcy.

A strange hesitancy settled over Darcy as he considered the events of the night, how close he had come to Wickham taking her away from him, the uncertainty and desperate terror he knew would have been his companion every waking moment if he had succeeded.

The nightmares he would have suffered, phantasms he knew with certainty he and Elizabeth would suffer in the coming months.

Then the need to clarify his actions welled up within him, and the words spilled out before he could contain them.

“Elizabeth . . .” murmured Darcy. “I . . . want you to know . . .”

Sensing his distress, Elizabeth pulled away and looked up at him, curiosity mixed with concern. “What is it, William?”

Taking in a deep breath, Darcy said: “To let you walk out of that room with him was the most difficult thing I have ever done.

Elizabeth understood him at once. “William,” chided she, “I never doubted that. Had we not done what he instructed, one of us would have died.”

Courage failed, and Elizabeth looked away. “I was terrified he would choose to kill you as he said he would.”

“As I was terrified for you,” said Darcy, marveling at how well this rare and precious woman already understood him.

“There was nothing we could do, no other option.” Elizabeth looked back at him, an expression of infinite tenderness shining from her brilliant eyes.

“Do not second-guess our decision, William. We did what we must when there was no other decision to make. I have no desire to consider what might have happened. Let us be grateful for what did happen.”

Darcy drew her in close again, listening to her soft sigh as she settled in so close that not even a whisper could fit between them. “I have been blessed with a wise and beautiful wife. Let us live by your maxim, for I do not wish to always allow the past to rule us.”

“If you please,” said the earl, bringing the company’s attention to him, though it was clear he was speaking to Darcy and Elizabeth, “there is another matter of which we must speak. I did not think to mention this in the moment’s urgency, but my wife and Anne will join us at Pemberley, perhaps as early as tomorrow. ”

Elizabeth straightened, the courage for which she was renowned again coming to the fore. “Of course, Lord Matlock. It will please us to host them.”

The earl nodded and thanked Elizabeth, though he added: “I know that Anne has made little attempt to know you better, and it may be awkward to host her in a house over which she thought she would preside as its mistress. Thank you for your forbearance, Mrs. Darcy.”

“Not at all,” said Elizabeth. “Once Anne might have thought she would be the mistress of Pemberley, but she has never tried to make me feel uncomfortable now that I hold that position. I have no hesitation at all about welcoming her here.”

Grateful though he was, the earl did not make any further fuss over the matter, which was, as Elizabeth said, a small one.

The hour was late, and Darcy knew the family would soon return to their bedchambers for the night.

The thought that the bedchamber might now carry adverse connotations occurred to Darcy, but he resolved to push it aside.

It was their home, and he was not about to allow George Wickham to taint what was theirs.

“I would like to return to our rooms, William,” said Elizabeth, proving she was in tune with his thoughts.

“My thoughts were the same,” agreed Darcy.

Standing together, they announced their intentions, and though Darcy saw several heads nod in agreement, no one moved to follow them, likely from some sense of allowing their privacy.

Elizabeth remained close to him as they walked, her arm around his waist, his around her shoulders.

It was silly, for Wickham was apprehended and the danger removed.

Darcy knew, however, that they would continue to exercise caution, a legacy of the uncertainty and terror of the night.

Someday, he knew they would heal, but it would take some time.

Even Elizabeth’s claim of wishing to explore the estate would not materialize at once despite her courageous words.

The outer room was dark as they had left it, while the bedchamber contained a pair of candles sitting on each nightstand next to the bed.

Darcy glanced at Elizabeth in question, and she nodded, understanding his unspoken question.

He guided her to the bed and then blew out each candle, knowing that while the light might be comforting, leaving an open flame overnight could be dangerous.

Then Darcy eased into bed next to his wife, cradling her to his breast as she sighed with both relief and contentment. For some time, they remained that way, each wide awake, far from sleep.

“You could not find the catch to release the door,” said Elizabeth, a statement of fact rather than a question.

“I did not look for long—my focus was on ensuring that Wickham could not escape with you.”

“Will you want to explore it yourself?”

It was an excellent question, such that Darcy considered it for a time, wondering if it served any purpose.

“I will,” said he at last. “It would be best to know the secrets of the house, or as many as we can uncover.”

“Then I will guide you, as it is yet vivid in my memory.”

Elizabeth fell silent for a moment. “Can we stay like this all night?

With a chuckle, Darcy drew her again closer. “The love of my life staying in my arms throughout the night? I know not how I shall endure it, Elizabeth.”

“You will endure it for longer than a single night. I mean to have you for a lifetime, Fitzwilliam Darcy—a long and fulfilling lifetime.”

“That, my dear Elizabeth, is no trial. I look forward to it.”

It took some time for them to attain enough calm to fall asleep, though when it came, they fell into slumber at the same moment. For that night, night phantasms did not torment them, probably because they remained wrapped in each other’s embrace until they awoke the following morning.