by Brenda Webb
“It has been exhausting for him, what with having to meet with the constable and the solicitor we hired to look into Wickham’s actions.” Her face darkened with fury. “I could not believe my eyes when I recognised that blackguard! I can only wonder how he managed to get near my niece. Georgiana did not want to discuss the particulars yet, but I shall question her about it in the morning. I must leave details of her remembrances for the solicitor before we depart.”
Tilting her head towards the sleeping man, the Mistress of Hawthorne enquired, “Do you suppose he shall be fit to travel?”
“He is resolute that he will escort us to London. I pray he does not suffer from more than those headaches. He refused to let me call for a physician.” She seemed to get more annoyed as she continued. “All this time I thought that he was upstairs in bed. I insisted he rest while I was occupied with Georgiana.”
“It has been my observation that real men—not those namby-pambys 10 who parade as men— are stubborn as can be.” She winked conspiratorially. “But well worth the extra effort to allow them into your heart!”
Audrey’s lips lifted into a smile, and she turned to study the chiselled features of the one she loved. “He is most definitely a man.”
“The servant I sent after his trunk has returned, so your beau is ready to go with you in the morning.”
“My beau?”
Violet raised her hand. “Audrey, let us not argue the facts. I have lived too many years not to recognise that you and he are more than friends. Would that I had met such a man after my Horace died. But, alas, it was not to be.” Remembering her train of thought, she added, “Men like Marshall do not come along every day, and you, of all people, know how quickly happiness can be snatched from your grasp.”
Lady Ashcroft nodded solemnly, her gaze never leaving Landingham. “I shall let you in on a secret.”
Violet Hawthorne’s eyes lit up. “You know you can trust me not to say a word.”
“Marshall and I have come to an understanding. As soon as Georgiana is settled in marriage, we will look to our own happiness. Only…”
“Only…” The older woman echoed.
“When I saw Marshall fall today after that blackguard attempted to kill him, I realised that I am unwilling to wait until Georgiana is married, though I am committed to her care, no matter my situation.”
“You wish to marry him sooner?”
For a moment Audrey Ashcroft considered the thought. “Yes, I wish to marry him as soon as possible.”
“Then marry him! Everything will work out, you shall see. And I am sure that Fitzwilliam will welcome your continued involvement with Georgiana.”
“I know that he will. Perhaps Georgiana could reside with us for a few weeks at a time, just as she has always spent a good bit of time travelling with me. It would essentially be no different. And we could hire a trusted companion for when she resides at Pemberley or Darcy House.”
“Just let me know when the happy event will take place.” Violet’s green eyes sparkled with delight and a bit of mischief. “I do not travel much anymore, but I shall make it a point to attend your wedding.”
Audrey reached across the divide to take her friend’s hand. “I cannot imagine being married without having you in attendance.”
“Now that that is settled, are you still determined to leave in the morning?”
“Yes. As soon as we got here, I sent Clark to Town with a letter explaining what happened. Knowing Fitzwilliam would send me a return express asking me to bring Georgiana to London, I elected to save the poor man another arduous trip. I explained to my nephew that we would start to London on the morrow, stopping at Ashcroft Park as we always do. I do not think it wise to tax everyone with a long trip, so we shall take two days.”
“Do you really think Fitzwilliam will wait for you to come to him?”
Audrey laughed. “You know him well. No, he will meet us at Ashcroft Park, I am certain.”
“Well, I cannot say that I fault him for being so protective of his sister. In fact, it is rather comforting to know that men like Fitzwilliam still exist. Look at the way my nephew treats Alfreda.”
“That is another of my concerns—John Wilkens. How could the man refuse to help Miss Bennet rescue Georgiana?”
“He is a coward.”
“That is certain, but I think he is most afraid of scandal. And if his expression at the gallery was indicative of his feelings, Miss Bennet is in for a stiff reprimand.”
“Do you fear for her safety?”
“You know him better than I. Should I be?”
“I confess that until I was informed of his dealings with Colonel Cochran over Alfreda, I did not think him capable of such cruelty. Now I do not trust him.”
“You heard my offer for Miss Bennet to accompany us to Town, did you not?”
“Yes, and I heard her reply. It seemed to me that she was trying to be sure that Alfreda would assist her in meeting you tomorrow morning.”
“That was my impression as well.”
“Then let us see if he allows her to leave. In the event that he does not, he will see first-hand my ire.”
Audrey smiled. “It is comforting to know that you are well able to control your nephew.”
“It is not I, but what I possess, that controls John!”
~~~*~~~
Gatesbridge Manor
Wilkens’ study
Alfreda was trembling as she stood before her brother’s desk. From his dishevelled appearance and the smell of brandy on his breath, he had been drinking since they returned from the catastrophe at the gallery. Afraid to confront him and equally afraid not to, she had come as soon as she realised what he had instructed the servants to do to her friend. He paid her no mind as she walked into the room, pouring the last of a bottle of brandy into an empty glass that sat before him.
“Brother, you cannot lock Miss Elizabeth in her rooms. Lady Ashcroft is expecting her to be at Hawthorne Hall in the morning to return to London in their coach. If she is not there, they will likely come here to ask after her.”
“Let them come!” he blustered. “I am lord of this house!”
“But… but what will our aunt say?”
Wilkens stood quickly, his chair tilting back precariously as he picked up the empty bottle and threw it across the room. Striking the fireplace, it split into hundreds of shards of glass that flew over the floor. Alfreda cringed. He was even less rational when he drank, and she feared what he might do to her or Elizabeth.
“Our dear, dear aunt,” he mused, swirling the liquor in the glass. “What will she say?”
Opening the drawer to his desk, Wilkens pulled out a small pistol and examined it from every angle, being sure his sister witnessed his inspection. Apparently pleased as her eyes widened in fear at the sight of the weapon, he laughed wickedly.
“What can that old woman do? She has one foot in the grave, and I would gladly give her a little shove if necessary.”
“Brother!” Alfreda sank down into a nearby chair as her knees buckled. “You cannot mean that!”
Wilkens aimed the pistol at her and made a sound as though he had fired a shot. “Oh no?”
Alfreda stood and ran rapidly towards the door.
“Where are you going?”
“I… I am going to bed.”
Wilkens was too drunk to argue and pleased that he had frightened her. “See that you do. And do not visit Miss Bennet, do you hear? She is to be left alone to consider her actions.”
Alfreda did not answer. She knew exactly what she must do, and her mind began to spin with the details of her plan even as her heart raced with the fear.
“Otherwise, I shall have to lock you away, just as I did when Cochran tried to challenge my authority last year. You remember how much you hated that.”
She swallowed hard. It would not do if she were locked in her rooms and could not help her friend. “I remember.”
Swiftly she exited the study and hurried back to her roo
ms, all the while praying that she would not encounter Mrs. Cuthbert, whom she had not trusted for some time. The housekeeper had feigned concern for her, even while helping to keep her imprisoned after her offer of marriage from Colonel Cochran.
Afterwards, it had taken all her strength to pretend that she still respected the woman. No, Mrs. Cuthbert was loyal to her brother, and Alfreda was not sure about most of the other servants. As she walked, she considered her options. Mr. Drummond was the only servant she still trusted implicitly. He was the oldest servant in the livery and was still fiercely loyal to her.
Other than Mr. Drummond, I shall be on my own.
Once in her bedroom, Alfreda hurriedly packed a small bag and pushed it under her bed. John was not going to be sensible about Miss Bennet’s leaving, so she was forced to take action. Elizabeth’s only chance was to escape the house as soon as possible and make her way to Hawthorne Hall. She would slip down the servant’s hall to her friend’s bedroom and lead her back to her own. From there they would slip out of the house and head to the stables and Mr. Drummond. Hopefully, John would be too drunk to check on them tonight.
Slowly she opened the door hidden in the wall and peered down the narrow, dark corridor. Then, entering it stealthily, she held her hand at the back of the candle to shade the light from anyone who might enter at the other end as she made her way to Elizabeth.
~~~*~~~
Chapter 28
Kent
Rosings
Lady Catherine’s study
Half asleep, having been awakened early, Wickham yawned into the sleeve of his expensive coat. Getting a whiff of the garment, he winced at the foul smell now emanating from his once impressive attire. Obliged to sleep on a small pile of hay in the corner of the stables upon his arrival last night, he now questioned whether it had been as clean as the liveryman claimed. He had expected to stay in one of the rooms set aside for the grooms at the least, but he found himself unceremoniously shown to the stables, without even so much as a blanket. Lady Catherine would certainly hear of his displeasure.
Lady Catherine, he mused. Why does even the thought of that woman cause my stomach to lurch? It is she who should fear me!
His thoughts were interrupted as that very individual walked heavily into the room, her ever-present cane marking the cadence. Only this time, she did not take her place behind the huge, imperious desk. Instead, she stopped several feet away from where he stood and studied him with an expression that made his blood run cold. His self-assurance vanished at the sight of her. It was obvious that she was enraged.
“And just what are you doing at Rosings? You should be well on the way to Gretna Green with my niece.”
“I—my plans were foiled.”
“Foiled!” She slammed the cane to the floor, causing him to jump. Then she punctuated all she had to say with additional thumps as her voice got louder. “Foiled! You mean you failed me again, do you not! I should have known a man like you would never succeed in making Georgiana think she was in love!”
“I was successful in keeping company with Georgiana, but I was unable to convince her to elope with me. That little chit insisted that she would have to have her brother’s permission to marry! Can you imagine a young woman of this day and age with no mind of her own?”
“Yes, I most certainly can imagine it—especially if she has been reared by my nephew and my sister! Did you expect her to toss aside everything she has been taught and leave without believing herself in love?” She began to pace. “I was a fool to think you capable of handling something this important. Were you so stupid as to have no alternative plan?”
“I had always intended to take her by force if she would not go willingly. However, just as I abducted her, a troupe of redcoats came down the boardwalk and—”
The Mistress of Rosings used her walking stick to sweep everything off a nearby table. An exquisite china vase flew to the floor, shattering in numerous pieces and causing an enormous racket. Rapid footsteps in the hallway were evidence of her servant’s efforts to locate the source of the disturbance. Even so, Wickham’s attention was riveted to the irate old woman as she slowly came towards him. He swallowed hard.
“Silence, you liar! I am not to be trifled with, and I do not accept your account! I have no doubt that there were no soldiers about to hinder. You tried to force her and were thwarted.” At his silent nod, she continued. “Who was it that found you out?”
“That interfering sister of yours, Lord Landingham and a young woman who has been in their company of late. It was the woman who first noticed me with Georgiana on the beach and came down to investigate. She drew the other’s attention to us.”
“My sister saw your face? She can identify you?”
“Unfortunately, she did.”
“And Landingham as well?”
Wickham coughed, hesitant to tell the worst of it. “He did. As it is, he almost intercepted me before I… I shot him.”
“Shot him? You killed a member of the House of Lords?”
“It seems that I only wounded him, as I saw him getting up as I entered the pathway to my coach.”
Uncharacteristically, Lady Catherine’s face became ashen, and she sat down in a nearby chair, rubbing her face with her hands. “You imbecile! All of England will be searching for you. And what will happen if word circulates that I was involved? My brother will most likely cast me into Bedlam to save face.”
“With your help, I shall escape England, and no one shall be the wiser.”
Her head came up sharply. “So you are here for more of my money. I should have known you would return penniless.”
“I simply need enough to purchase passage on a ship to the Americas and enough funds to stay hidden until it is time to sail. I will need disguises—different clothes, a wig or two—and money for lodging. Shall we say two thousand pounds?”
“Two thousand pounds! It would be less expensive to have you killed!”
“I took into account your logic, and that is why I have left letters explaining our unique relationship with one of my associates. He has pledged to deliver them to the Earl of Matlock and Fitzwilliam Darcy should I be “tucked up with a spade.” 11 Wickham smirked at the stunned expression on her face. “I see that you are familiar with the term. So suppose you just hand over the money and credit the excess to assuring my silence.”
Lady Catherine considered him for several moments, her scowl deepening. “I suppose I have no choice. But this is the last farthing you shall ever get from me, and if you are caught and implicate me, I will do everything in my power to discredit you and see you hang.”
The feeling is mutual, I assure you.
“Do not worry. No one will find me, and I shall be in distant lands before they realise I am no longer in England.”
“You have given me your assurances before, and they have all come to naught. Why should I believe you now?”
“This time I have no choice.”
Lady Catherine stood to leave. “And the next time you appear on my doorstep, I shall have no choice. Keep that in mind!”
Wickham quickly added, “I also require one of the groom’s accommodations, my meals brought over from the kitchen and my pick of mounts when I leave.”
With these added demands she paused at the door and fixed him with a frosty stare. “Return to the stables. It may take a day or more to get the funds.” Then lifting her head haughtily, she quitted the room.
Wickham moved to the door to watch her negotiate the long hallway, as was his habit. Her cane tapped out a familiar rhythm as she traversed the slick, polished wood covered by an occasional decorative rug.
I would consider it a stroke of luck if she fell and broke her neck after I leave for London.
As she faded out of sight, he slowly found his way through the house and out the back door to the stables.
~~~*~~~
Gatesbridge Manor
Elizabeth’s Bedroom
Alfreda paced all the while Elizabeth whit
tled around the lock on the shutter that covered the window. Using the knife she kept hidden in her trunk at her father’s insistence, she had hoped to loosen the latch and force it open. However, it was going very slowly as the wood was solid oak.
“Oh, Elizabeth, I am so sorry for bringing you here,” Alfreda moaned for the hundredth time. “Brother will likely come back before we escape.”
“Hush!” Elizabeth said with exasperation. “There is no time for that kind of talk.”
It was taking all her efforts to work on the latch, as they had been up all night and she was tired. Nevertheless, her mind was never far from the madman who could return at any second.
~~~*~~~
Previously
Earlier that night, Alfreda had entered Elizabeth’s bedroom through a panel in wall. Intrigued, she had peered into the dark hallway as Alfreda explained that this was a network that wound throughout the house and the servants used them to access the rooms. Alfreda declared it would be their route to freedom.
All of a sudden, it became clear to Elizabeth that this could explain the nights when she had awakened with the strange feeling that someone was in the room. The thought that it could have been John Wilkens repulsed her, but she had no time to dwell on that as Alfreda was frantically urging her to pack a bag.
All had been in vain, though, for hardly two minutes later, Wilkens had come through the same entrance, and it was obvious that he was drunk. Alfreda tried to stand her ground against the onslaught of her brothers’ accusations and anger, but it had served no purpose.
“Brother!” she exclaimed stepping between him and Elizabeth, “How did—” Quickly, she hushed.
“How did I know that you would defy me and go straight to Miss Bennet? Because, I am no fool!” He grabbed hold of a bed post to steady himself. “Your attitude has changed since she came to Gatesbridge. Your sympathy lies with her, not me. And it was simple enough to realise how you would get into her room. I had only to place a servant on the other end of the hall to await the sight of your candle.”