The Disappearance of Georgiana Darcy: A Pride and Prejudice Mystery

by Regina Jeffers

  “Point taken, Mr. Darcy,” Mr. Bennet said. They dined in silence for several minutes, each man immersed in the newspapers Darcy had delivered to Pemberley as part of the regular post. “Last evening, I was reading the biography of Earl David of Huntingdon and his rise to King David II of Scotland,” Mr. Bennet mumbled as he turned the page. “Possible ancestors?”

  Darcy folded over the page he read. “Probable connections rather than possible,” he answered without looking up. They remained in companionable silence for several minutes before Darcy observed, “Says here that a volcano erupted on an Indian Ocean island in April. Some scientists are concerned about the amount of ash in the air.”

  Mr. Bennet put down his paper. “Really? That could cause problems. I read a report which speculated on the devastation from an earlier New Zealand eruption. I cannot remember the exact source, but it spoke of widespread famine. At the time, it seemed a world away. Is it possible that the ash will reach England?”

  “No one seems to know.” Darcy’s eyes scanned the article for the facts. “The Dutch have a colony near the eruption, but it has only been three months since the explosion. Still too early for accurate reports. Takes months to sail around the Horn. But we should be aware. Can Longbourn sustain potential losses?” he asked in honest response. Over the past few months, he and Mr. Bennet had spent countless hours discussing their estate management plans.

  “I remain indeterminate. We have known some setbacks,” Mr. Bennet said cautiously.

  “Before Miss Bennet’s wedding next week, we should develop contingencies.”

  Mr. Bennet nodded. “You are a God send. Should we include Mr. Bingley? He and Jane will arrive later today.”

  Darcy’s eyes returned to the page. “That appears prudent. I will ask Bingley to join us.”

  “Unfortunately, we will be beset with houseguests tomorrow. My peace will come to an end. Mrs. Bennet will marry off the last of our daughters to Mr. Winkler next week, and I will become her focus. My world will collapse to a daily dose of frills and lace.”

  Darcy chuckled. “Maybe your future will not be so dire. You could always send the dear lady to visit with Mrs. Wickham, or to a European city…”

  “Or a long stay at Pemberley,” Mr. Bennet taunted.

  Darcy barked out a laugh. “Although Mrs. Darcy would welcome her mother’s company, how would that affect your sojourn in my estate’s library?”

  “Again, point taken, Mr. Darcy.”

  “And Mrs. Bingley has agreed to this?” Darcy asked one of his closest friends as they sat in Darcy’s study.

  Bingley shrugged. “It was Jane’s idea. Once Kitty marries, Mrs. Bennet will be anxious to visit with her other daughters. My wife recalls all too well her mother’s interference in our lives while we remained at Netherfield. With the twins and young Jackson, my dear Jane simply has no time to pacify Mother Bennet’s nerves, and I will not have my wife exhausted by her propensity to please everyone. Therefore, I have pressed her to deny Mrs. Bennet’s less than subtle hints for an invitation to Marwood Manor. Mrs. Bingley’s solution was for us to take a holiday. If we are not in Cheshire, we cannot entertain the lady.”

  “Although I appreciate how Mother Bennet tended to Elizabeth’s bruised soul when the Bennets visited Pemberley during Christmastide, I understand your reluctance at renewing the lady’s tendency to intrude on your wife’s easy nature. If our wives’ mother was a bit more sensible, it would be less of an imposition.” Darcy refilled Bingley’s glass. “I suggested to Mr. Bennet that a journey to Carlisle might be advisable. It would seem that Mr. Wickham should share in entertaining Mother Bennet.”

  “God only knows that both of our wives have sent enough of their pin moneys to the couple to sustain Wickham’s lifestyle,” Bingley observed. “The man’s debt accumulates.”

  Darcy did not mention how much he had settled on the Wickhams to guarantee their joining and to save the other Bennet sisters from ruin. “Then tell me of your destination.” Darcy turned the subject.

  “My father’s brother held property between Dalry and Newton Stewart. It is a simple manor house, but more than adequate for the Bingleys of Cheshire. My uncle invested heavily in the Leswalt salt mines and in the Loch Ryan oyster beds.”

  Darcy sipped his drink. “If Mother Bennet insinuates herself into your lives, you could deposit the dear lady in Wickham’s lap on your way north.”

  “There is that.” Bingley’s mouth curved upward.

  “Will Mrs. Bingley be well enough to travel after her confinement?” Darcy inquired.

  “Jane is quite hardy in that respect. And it is another sennight before we depart. We will see Kitty wed and then take our leave.”

  Darcy thought of the delicate-looking Jane Bingley and how she had easily delivered three children and of the robust appearance of his Elizabeth. Their joining had produced two stillbirths before finally knowing the happiness of holding Bennet in their arms. Appearances could be deceptive. “I wish you a safe journey, my friend.”

  “Charles and I would be pleased if you and Mr. Darcy joined us,” Jane Bingley told Elizabeth as they shared tea in the Pemberley nursery.

  Elizabeth smiled as the wet nurse cradled Bennet in an intimate caress. Elizabeth had liked Mrs. Prulock from the moment of their first meeting. “You plan to avoid the return of our mother’s ‘nerves,’” Elizabeth teased. “It is bad form, Jane.”

  Her sister blushed thoroughly. “Oh, do not say so, Lizzy. I have anguished over this decision. Do you truly believe it selfish of me to consider this holiday so soon after our sister’s wedding?”

  Elizabeth managed a smile. Her eldest sister held the kindest heart among the Bennet daughters. On more than one occasion, Elizabeth had envied her sister’s goodness. It was Jane who had believed that George Wickham had married Lydia because he had held “a real regard for her.” Jane had declared, “We must endeavor to forget all that has passed on either side. I hope and trust they will yet be happy. His consenting to marry her is a proof, I will believe, that he is come to a right way of thinking. Their mutual affection will steady them; and I flatter myself they will settle so quietly, and live in so rational a manner, as may in time make their past imprudence forgotten.”

  Of course, Jane had erred completely. The Wickhams still held in spite of everything, the hope that Darcy might yet be prevailed upon to make Mr. Wickham’s fortune. It had been evident to Elizabeth, from the beginning, that such an income as Lydia and her husband possessed, under the direction of two persons so extravagant in their wants, and heedless of their future, must be very insufficient to their support. Whenever the Wickhams changed their quarters, either Jane or herself were applied to for some little assistance toward discharging the couple’s bills.

  “Dearest Jane,” Elizabeth assured, “you have no guilt to own for our mother’s care. Foremost, you have responsibilities to Mr. Bingley and your children. You spent a twelvemonth at Netherfield before removing to Marwood Manor. Our mother’s disposition and that of all our Meryton relations affected even Mr. Bingley’s amiable nature. Our husbands own our first loyalties.” Elizabeth paused to gather her thoughts. “I no longer resent our mother’s manipulations. She did what she could to place her daughters in the way of eligible young men, and despite the personal mortifications I experienced at the time, I understand her motivations. When Papa passes, Longbourn reverts to Mr. Collins’s care. Our mother has done her best to see to our futures.”

  Jane nodded her agreement. “Other than Lydia’s joining, our family has exceeded expectations.”

  Elizabeth smiled knowingly. “That does not mean, however, that any of us would be comfortable entertaining our mother on a permanent basis. Our parents are set in their ways. There cannot be two mistresses of the same house. Therefore, I have asked Mr. Darcy to invest in a small cottage close to Meryton, which my husband will make available to Mama upon our father’s passing. She might keep Mr. and Mrs. Hill if she likes.”

  “That is an e
xcellent idea. I shall speak to Charles about setting aside an annual sum for our mother’s expenses. If nothing else, our mother knows how to practice economy. She has shown a real knack for entertaining with limited funds. A place of her own to live out her days with dignity and not having to depend upon Mr. Collins for her support is a true act of generosity. It is a great kindness that Mr. Darcy offers.”

  Elizabeth placed her teacup on a low table. “You should enjoy your time in the Scottish countryside without thought to our mother’s plight. Instead, concentrate on recovering from Jackson’s delivery. You, dear sister, deserve time with your family. Mayhap, we anticipate only the worst and will receive the best. I suspect it is Papa’s turn to experience our mother’s ministrations,” Elizabeth said teasingly. “Mama is likely to badger him into taking a place in London.”

  Jane’s eyes widened in mock horror. “Oh, poor Papa. Our mother shall invade his study and inundate his days and nights with the latest gossip!”

  “Our father has neglected his wife for too long,” Elizabeth observed. “But we shall face that possibility when it occurs. For now, I want to hold Cassandra and young Charles and consider all the milestones Bennet has yet to achieve.”

  Edward Fitzwilliam stared out over the English Channel. Finally having received his orders yesterday, he had boarded the ship some five hours earlier. Actually, he should have departed the Continent a fortnight prior, but he had refused to leave his duties until he was assured of Captain Roman Southland’s recovery. His aide had suffered a severe wound to his left forearm, one that had resulted in the captain losing part of his arm.

  “At least, Roman will never have to face the battlefield again,” Edward told the rolling waves. Southland had sustained his injury when he had stepped between Edward and an advancing French cavalryman. Bonaparte’s devotee had brought his sword down with a vengeance and had ripped away part of Southland’s muscle and bone.

  “How do I express my gratitude?” he had told the man as he had sat beside Southland’s bed in a makeshift hospital. “You have saved my life on two different continents.”

  The captain rolled his eyes upward to stare at the draped bedding. “I promised Mrs. Fitzwilliam that I would see you safely returned to Derbyshire.”

  “And I promised my cousin Anne the same for you to Kent.” Men did not speak of their fears, but Edward recognized his aide’s anxiety. “Would you care to tell me what bothers you?” he said quietly.

  A long silence followed before the captain’s eyes caught his in a steady stare. “Will Anne think she has received the short end of our agreement? I know nothing of the aristocracy. Now, I am less than a man.”

  Edward swallowed hard. If not for Southland, he could have been maimed worse than his aide. Or he could be among the thousands lying in shallow graves surrounding a Belgian forest. Keeping a vigil at Southland’s beside, he had wondered if Georgiana would turn from him if he had suffered the captain’s injury. Somehow, he did not think it possible. His Georgiana, on first glance, appeared fragile and delicate, but he had learned otherwise. She possessed a strong will and a granite resolve that resembled her brother’s. She would welcome him home with open arms. And so would Anne welcome the captain.

  Edward leaned forward to press his point. “You, Sir, are more of a man—even with one arm—than a pack of foppish toffs. You are what my cousin needs. Anne requires a man who is not afraid of adversity; a man who has an honest regard for her well-being; a man who will not judge her. She carries your child, Roman. You will be a father, and your children will not care that you lost your left hand in this crazy war. They will care only that you scoop them up with your right and hold them tightly on your lap. You have given Anne a reason for hope. She has a husband and a child on the way and a better understanding with her mother. You have given Mrs. Southland a family—something she has not known since her childhood under Sir Lewis’s care.”

  With scarcely any private fortune of which to speak, Southland had wooed a vulnerable Anne De Bourgh, but not out of malice. The captain had envisioned a connection to the De Bourgh family long before the couple had struck up an acquaintance during last December’s festive days, the circles in which they moved so distinct that one would think their joining an impossibility. In fact, Edward had at one time discouraged Southland’s attentions. And although Anne possessed a temper remarkably easy and indolent, upon meeting Southland, his cousin had taken it upon herself to marry, in the common phrase, to disoblige her family by fixing on a Lieutenant of the Cavalry, without education, fortune, or connections; she did it very thoroughly by being purposely caught in a compromising kiss by her mother, Lady Catherine De Bourgh, the family’s paragon of propriety. Within weeks, Edward’s once-spinster cousin had become a happily married woman. Now with child, Anne had achieved her dreams when she married Captain Roman Southland.

  “Do you honestly believe so, Sir? Anne is your family; you know her better than I. If you want me to bear you a debt of gratitude, tell me truly how Anne will react to my injury.”

  “I speak plainly, Roman. Anne has her faults, but the kindness of her heart is not among them. My cousin will not disappoint you. She will welcome you as the hero that you are.”

  Again a long silence stretched between them. Finally, Southland nodded his agreement. “Then I will return to Rosings Park and make my wife thankful she has chosen me.”

  Edward’s easy smile was meant to remove any of his aide’s remaining doubts. “Anne is fortunate to have such a man in her life. When next I see her, I will sing your praises.” Edward leaned closer to whisper. “Go home, Roman. Take your wife to bed and show her the height of your regard. Make lots of babies and enjoy your life.”

  Southland’s eyes danced with mischief. “And you, too, Sir. You have a beautiful wife. Join Mrs. Fitzwilliam in Derbyshire and make a few babies of your own.”

  “I am not certain that Mrs. Fitzwilliam is in Derbyshire. A letter found me yesterday. My wife planned to open the Fitzwilliam property outside of Galloway. We have never had our wedding trip, after all. When I received my orders, Georgiana insisted on our advancing the nuptials. We wed on Monday, and I departed on Thursday. I have known my wife less than two and seventy hours.” Edward winked at the man. “When I reach England, I will first determine whether Mrs. Fitzwilliam is in Derbyshire or Scotland. Then I will seek her out immediately. I am ready to know my wife fully. I plan to have her in my bed for at least a fortnight.”

  Southland chuckled. “I have never heard you sound happier, Sir. More satisfied than I could imagine.”

  Edward looked off as if to see something his aide could not. “A dozen years, Southland. That is what I have spent in service to my country. It is all I have known. Now, I will embark on a new life, that of a country gentleman, and Georgiana will wash away the dirt and the blood buried in my soul.”

  “If anyone can, Sir, it is Mrs. Fitzwilliam.”

  “Should we be sendin’ notice to the lady’s family in Derbyshire?” the caretaker asked.

  “Donnae see where we be havin’ another choice.” The housekeeper covered the furniture in the main parlor with dustsheets. “They’ll not be happy, but I be tellin’ the gel repeatedly that she cudnae be traipsin’ about the countryside alone.”

  The man lifted the chair and carried it across the room to place it with the others. “Then ye’ll see to it today?”

  “I will tell the lady’s husband that his bride be dead.”

  Chapter 2

  “PARDON ME, MRS. DARCY.” The Pemberley butler had interrupted Elizabeth and Jane’s afternoon with the latest fashion plates. “There is a gentleman wishing to speak to Mr. Darcy.”

  Elizabeth looked up with a frown. She and Jane had spent the morning considering ways to adapt the too-frilly gown Mrs. Bennet had chosen for Kitty’s joining to a more stylish affair. Poor Kitty had pleaded with them to intercede, and they had agreed upon seeing Kitty’s rendering of the “odious” garment. “Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley shall not return f
or, at least, an hour.” She noted the servant’s unease. “Should I speak to the gentleman while he waits for Mr. Darcy?”

  The butler’s face relayed his approval. “I explained to the gentleman that Mr. Darcy was not available. He then asked for you, Ma’am.”

  Elizabeth appreciated the protective nature of Darcy’s servants. “Does the gentleman have a name, Mr. Nathan?”

  “A Mr. Matthew Joseph, Ma’am.”

  Elizabeth was out of her seat immediately. “Matthew Joseph? Conduct the gentleman to the main drawing room, Mr. Nathan. I shall be there in a brief moment.”

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  “Matthew Joseph? The man whose child you delivered?” Her sister stared eagerly at Elizabeth.

  Elizabeth turned to the door. “Come, Jane. I wish to extend your acquaintance to Mr. Joseph.” Elizabeth raced through Pemberley’s halls to enter the drawing room in a rush. “Matthew,” she called as she extended her hands to him and ignored the obligatory curtsy. “Please tell me your visit does not bring ill news.”

  The young man smiled easily. “Nothing ill, Mrs. Darcy.” He caught her hands and brought one of them to his lips. “Mary and young William thrive.” He took a leisurely look at her. “You appear well, Mrs. Darcy. Such news will please Mrs. Joseph.”

  Elizabeth looked up to see Jane’s entrance. “We have much of which to speak, but, first, permit me to make you known to my eldest sister. Jane, may I present my dear friend, Mr. Joseph. Matthew, my sister, Mrs. Bingley.”