Mr. Darcy's Scandal

by Cynthia Porter

  “Oh, dear,” Elizabeth said. “Do you suppose her brother knows she is here?”

  “I doubt it.”

  “What do you think we should do? He might arrive at any moment.”

  “I hope, for her sake, he does not. But it is a capital rig, don’t you think?”

  “No, I do not. She is not yet come out; it will cause no end of a stir if she is discovered. Mr. Darcy has enough gossip to contend with without Georgiana adding to it.”

  “We shall certainly add to it if we confront her, Elizabeth.”

  “Then let us maneuver to be near her when the dance ends so that we can shield her and persuade her to leave.”

  But before they could do anything at all, the dance came to an end and Elizabeth watched in horror as Wickham took Georgiana by the hand and led her from the room. “I am going after them,” she said, making for the door. Henry shrugged his shoulders and followed.

  When they finally pushed their way through the crowd and gained the upper gallery, the young couple were nowhere to be seen. Rows of doors led to other rooms, but they were all firmly shut. Could they have gone into one of those? Or downstairs? The dining room was on the lower floor, as were the library and the rooms set aside for the ladies to rest.

  “There!” Henry said, leaning over the banister and catching sight of a black cloak and hat disappearing down a corridor. Elizabeth, trying not to give the appearance of haste, started down. She had no idea what she would say to Georgiana when she caught up with her, but somehow she must be persuaded to go home. And knowing how willful she was, that was not going to be easy. And in the back of her mind was the conviction that if Darcy ever found out about it, he would somehow lay the blame at her door.

  There were few people on the ground floor except those either coming or going from the rest rooms. No one paid any attention to the two hurrying figures, any more than they had noticed the earlier couple, who had disappeared into the conservatory. Henry pulled open the door for Elizabeth to enter.

  In the half-light from the lanterns in the garden, they saw Georgiana, whose mask lay on the floor, silently struggling with Wickham. He had his arms around her, but she was fighting him off, kicking and scratching, but making no more noise than an occasional grunt.

  Henry and Elizabeth ran forward but before either could intervene she had delivered a telling punch to his stomach with one hand and slapped his face so hard with the other, her ring cut his cheek. He swore and clapped his hand to it, at the same moment as he saw Henry bearing down on him. He did not wait to find out what fate was in store for him, but fled across the tiled floor and through the outer door into the night.

  “My, that was a spirited defense,” Henry said, admiringly. “Another minute and you would have had him floored.”

  She turned and looked at him, then at Elizabeth and burst into tears. Elizabeth took her in her arms to comfort her. “Henry, go and find a hackney. Do it quietly. We will wait for you in the ladies’ room.” Then to Georgiana, “Come, we will tidy you up and no one will be the wiser.” She picked up the mask. “Better put that back on and pull your cloak round you.”

  “You won’t tell William?”

  “No, though that is not to say I shouldn’t.”

  “I didn’t mean…I didn’t think…” she began as Henry put his head out of the door to make sure there was no one about before beckoning them forward.

  “No, of course you did not,” Elizabeth said, and with a nod to Henry to be gone, ushered her charge into the ladies’ room which was, to her relief, empty.

  There was a washstand with water, soap and towels, several small tables, some comfortable chairs and a sofa, a looking glass and sundry combs and brushes.

  “Now,” she said, sitting on the sofa and pulling the girl down beside her, “let us see the extent of the damage.” She took the girl’s face in her hands; it was blotched with weeping, but otherwise unmarked. “Nothing to be seen there. Did he hurt you anywhere else?”

  “No.” Georgiana grinned suddenly. “I gave a good account of myself, didn’t I?”

  “Yes, my dear, you did, but you know it should not have come to such a pass. Whatever were you thinking of?”

  “I was mad as anything with my brother. He said I was not to come and see you again…”

  “I know,” she said softly, fetching a cloth wrung out in cold water and setting about bathing the girl’s face. “But coming here like this would not incline him to change his mind, would it?”

  “It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t your fault that Bingley got himself in a coil, nor mine either, and so I told William.”

  “Oh, I am sure that made him see the error of his ways and retract,” Elizabeth said with gentle irony.

  Georgiana smiled suddenly. “And then I thought of the masquerade and I prevailed on Julia to give me an invitation…”

  “So she knows you are here?” Elizabeth was trying to tidy Georgiana’s tangled hair as she spoke, and though she appeared calm, her mind was busy with the problem of how to spirit Georgiana out of the house and back home safely without Darcy finding out.

  “Yes, but I swore her to secrecy.”

  “Apart from coming to the ball where you should never be, why did you allow George Wickham to take you out of the room like that? It is to be hoped that no one else recognized you, for it looked very bad.”

  “I didn’t want to make a scene in front of everyone…”

  “So you agreed to go somewhere private. Oh, Georgiana, how foolish of you.”

  “He said he had something important to tell me and I thought…” And she burst into tears again, undoing all Elizabeth’s good work on her face.

  “Oh, my dear, please do not upset yourself. There is no harm done, if we can get you safely home.”

  “Oh, but there is. It is dreadful. He told me…he said I had no right when my brother was a rakeshame of the worst kind. He said William had…had fathered a child with his mistress…”

  Elizabeth’s heart gave an uncomfortable lurch but she answered evenly, “I am sure that is nonsense, Georgiana. Wickham was just trying to frighten you.”

  “So I told him.” She gave Elizabeth a lopsided grin. “Even I am not such a wet goose as to think it could be true. But I remembered something else. That drawing I did of the little boy. I said he reminded me of someone…”

  “And so you have put two and two together. Georgiana, had it not occurred to you that you saw some small thing in the child’s face or posture that made you recall that picture in the drawing room at Darcy House and you exaggerated the likeness without realizing you were doing it? It is possible, you know.”

  “Then why did William take it away? And where did Wickham hear the tale?”

  “Georgiana, there are some nasty malicious people in the world and some of them have been denigrating your brother, but we do not have to believe them, do we? George Wickham was simply making mischief. Now dry your eyes, Henry will be back soon and I will take you home and we must contrive to get you up to your room without Darcy seeing you.”

  “He has gone to Pemberley and though he said he would not be gone above two days, he has not come back or I would not have risked coming.”

  Before Elizabeth could comment on this, there was a tap at the door. “It’s me. Open the door.”

  Elizabeth went to obey and Henry slipped inside. “There is a hackney at the door.”

  “Good. I will take Georgiana home. Tell the Bingleys I have the headache and have gone home, will you?”

  “Yes, but there is a problem. Mr. Darcy rolled up just as I arrived with the cab and he accosted me. Wanted to know if you were here. I told him yes, but you were unwell and had desired me to fetch you a cab to take you home.” He grinned ruefully. “He says he has his carriage here which is infinitely more comfortable than a dirty cab and insists on taking you home himself.”

  “Oh, no. Did you not try to dissuade him?”

  “Naturally I did. I said I would not put him to the trouble, that I wa
s ready to leave myself anyway, but he would have none of it. It seems he has come expressly to see you and…”

  “Oh, dear. I really do not think I can abide another jobation from him.”

  “I do not think he means to give you a jobation. He said to tell you he will not speak unless you give him leave, but he will see you safely home.”

  “Oh, what are we to do?” wailed Georgiana. “He will see me and…oh, I wish I had never come.”

  “You do not wish it any more heartily than I do, Georgiana,” Elizabeth said with some asperity. “Now, let me think. Henry, I think I must go and speak to Darcy and allow him to take me home. Once we have gone, you smuggle Georgiana out to the hackney and see her safely to Darcy House. It is not an ideal solution, for she should not be with you without a chaperon—”

  “No, she should not. Darcy will have my hide for it.”

  “We will just have to risk it, we can’t involve anyone else. Wait until we have gone before you come out.” She stooped to kiss Georgiana’s cheek. “Do not worry, child, all will yet be well. Now I must go.”

  She was mad, she told herself, as she found her cloak among the others deposited there, slipped from the room and made her way to the entrance hall, where Darcy stood waiting. Not only had she teased him about Bingley, she had exacerbated her crime by condoning his sister’s mischief. If he ever found out about it, his fury would know no bounds. And to top it all, she had landed herself with his saturnine company for a journey home which would be fraught with tension.

  CHAPTER TEN

  He turned when he heard her step behind him and was momentarily taken aback by the costume she had chosen to wear. It was almost Puritan in its simplicity: a plain wool skirt of a color like dark tobacco with a cream cotton blouse, over which was a white starched apron. On her lovely head she wore a mob cap, though it was not big enough to hide the gleaming coils of her dark hair.

  Far from making her look common, the costume served to enhance her natural poise; she did not need expensive clothes to display her beauty. It was there, in the lines of her face, the soft curves of her body and the light in her eyes. He wore no hat, so he could not sweep it off, but he touched his forelock in the manner of a yokel and grinned. “At your service.”

  Notwithstanding the trepidation she was feeling, she smiled. In spite of the fustian coat and the thick breeches and leggings, he made a very poor peasant, being upright and proud and having clean well-manicured fingernails and hair professionally trimmed. But she was reminded of Georgiana’s tale of seeing him going out dressed like a laborer. If the idea was to deceive, she doubted he had been very successful. “Sir, you flatter me,” she said, adopting the simpering manner of a serving girl.

  “No.” He was serious now. “No flattery was intended. But I am told you are unwell and would go home.”

  “It is nothing but a slight headache, but the party is very noisy and I have had enough of it.”

  “My carriage is at the gate, I did not send it away. Will you do me the inestimable honor of allowing me to conduct you home?”

  How formal he had suddenly become. And there was about him a kind of intensity which was almost frightening. But she could never be afraid of him; she knew him too well, loved him too well. Angry, yes, disappointed, yes, but never fearful, except perhaps on Georgiana’s behalf. “Thank you.”

  She hardly dare glance behind her as the footman by the door opened it for them and Darcy escorted her out, but she hoped Henry was watching and would give them ample time to leave before emerging. The hired carriage stood a little way off; its driver, muffled in a caped overcoat for all it was a warm night, sat on the box waiting patiently for his fare to emerge. She pretended not to notice it.

  Darcy handed her up, and once she had settled, climbed up beside her, bidding his coachman take them to the Gardiners. “The lady has the headache and we must convey her smoothly,” he told him.

  Though time in his company was exquisite torture, she knew that the longer they took, the longer Henry would have to see Georgiana safe home, and so she smiled a little wanly and sat back in the corner of the carriage and exhibited every appearance of someone in the throes of a dreadful headache.

  “My poor Elizabeth,” he said, turning to look at her, though he could see little in the gloomy interior, not even her lustrous eyes, for she had shut them. “If I have in any way contributed to your indisposition, then I am truly sorry for it. I would not for the world hurt you or have anyone else hurt you…”

  Her eyes opened and she stared at him across the carriage. “Mr. Darcy—”

  “No,” he interrupted her, “you must not call me that. Look at me.” He tugged at his rough coat. “Do you see a stranger before you?”

  She smiled. They must not quarrel again, she simply could not go on giving blow for blow because, sooner or later, she would miss her aim and he would see what was really in her heart, and for her pride’s sake, she could not allow that. “No, I cannot say that I do. But I truly do not know what I see.”

  “A man,” he said. “I hope you see a man. And his name is Fitzwilliam.”

  “Very well, I see Fitzwilliam Darcy,” she murmured, confused by this change in him. Where was his arrogance?

  “Oh, Elizabeth, have done with this teasing, I must speak seriously to you, if your headache can stand it.”

  “I am not sure that it can.”

  “Then I will call on you tomorrow.” It was a disappointing blow after riding hell for leather to be back in London in time to see her, but he supposed what he had to say could wait one more day.

  “I wonder at your risking it,” she said pertly. “Your name has already been linked to mine. Always on my doorstep, so they say.”

  “Oh, you have heard it then?”

  “The latest on dit? Who has not? Is that not the reason you have withdrawn your sister from my corrupting influence?” She realized as soon as she spoke she was on dangerous ground, but she hoped Georgiana was well on the way home by now.

  “No, it is not. And believe me, I am sorry. I should not have blamed you for my own inadequacy as a man. Will you forgive me?”

  “I forgive you.”

  “But can you also forgive me for the slander which has been heaped upon you? I have only just heard the full extent of it and it has appalled me.”

  “Oh, it is nothing but malicious gossip. I take no note of it.”

  “Do you not? But supposing I do? Supposing it is of the utmost importance to me, that you should understand the truth.”

  “Why? You do not have to explain it to me, Mr. Darcy. The tattlers will soon find something else on which to exercise their tongues.”

  “No doubt they will, but I will have them retract.”

  “How will you do that?”

  “Prove they are wrong.” He paused and reached out to take her hand in his. She did not withdraw it. “Elizabeth, have you, by chance, heard something about a lost child?”

  “Yes, but you do not need to tell me…”

  “Oh, but I do. That child is not my mine.”

  “Not yours? But Georgiana’s drawing was so like… You saw it too…”

  “Oh, he is of relation, no doubt of that, but he is my cousin’s offspring, not mine.”

  “Colonel Fitzwilliam’s?”

  “Yes, you met him once, in Kent, do you remember?”

  “I remember.”

  “How is your headache? Is it too much to listen to this?”

  She had forgotten she was supposed to be in pain and smiled. “Go on.”

  “Richard was on military leave and had not yet decided what he wanted to do with himself, and he was at home when the news came that the man who had been my groom had been killed in battle. I had promised to look after the wives of any of my men who were lost as a result of serving their country and I was foolish enough to ask Richard to call on her to see if she needed anything. My father was very ill at the time and I had been summoned to his bedside and could think of little else or I might
have wondered why Richard needed to go so often. He was a sympathetic sort and I think he only meant to comfort her, but the result was a child…”

  “Oh, I see. But how did the child become lost?”

  “I did not turn her off, if that is what you are thinking. In fact, I considered insisting on Richard marrying her, but I knew that would not serve. Sadly, younger sons of an Earl cannot marry who they like, since oldest sons inherit title and all the property. Richard returned to the military and was sent to Scotland. I gave the woman a pension for all her husband’s years of service. She seemed perfectly settled with her child. I suppose the shame was too much, and she fled with the child.”

  They had drawn up outside the Gardiners’ house, but neither made a move to alight. She maintained her serious attention, but inside she was singing with joy, not only because he was not the rake he was reputed to be, but a caring gentleman who worried about his people, and because it was important to him that she should know the truth. “And you are concerned for their welfare?”

  “Yes. Richard returned home, expecting to find her waiting for him; instead, he learned she had ran off.”

  “And you must help find her?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh, Mr. Darcy, I am so very, very sorry. Have you no idea where she can be?”

  “No, but Georgiana drew the child, I am sure of it, though no one has seen him since.”

  “Have you told Georgiana about this?”

  “No.”

  “Don’t you think you should? I think she may have heard some of the gossip and she understands it very well. She deserves to know the truth.”

  “I will tell her tomorrow. But that is not all. I believe George Wickham has seen the child and assumed, like everyone else, that I am its father. Wickham believes I have insulted and wronged him, and holds a dangerous grudge against me. I am not afraid for myself, but I fear for the mother and her child.

  “Oh, dear, no wonder you have been distracted.”

  “It is not the only thing I have been distracted about.”

  “There is more?”