by Glenna Mason
“I knew he had tricked her into this alleged elopement,” Bingley complained.
“But, Mr. Rollins, what excuse did Wickham give you for spiriting Lydia away from home, when he did, instead of simply meeting her in town after the exercises? You must have been wary, even suspicious.”
“Mr. Wickham took me aside and explained that he was afraid that with Lydia’s excitement at their elopement being so irrepressible, in concert with her inability to ever keep a secret in even the most mundane situations, it would be unlikely she would not give their plans away, at least to Kitty.”
“That must have seemed a reasonable assertion.”
“I should have been more alert. Having known Thomas since we were classmates at Oxford, I did find Lydia’s story slightly hard to comprehend. Thomas has always been easily manipulated by all five of his daughters. And, as to Fanny, she’d welcome any man, who’d marry one of her daughters. Hence . . . “
“Hence . . . ?”
“Hence now that the villain’s trick on the unsuspecting Lydia has been summarily exposed, I hereby revoke her sanctuary. I will have my coach and four deliver you and Lydia back to Longbourn. Retrieve her, gents, from number four, while I order the carriage.”
Darcy took out another twenty.
“No.”
“For the drinks and the rent.”
“Fine then,” Rollins said, scooping up the bills.
*****
Darcy and Bingley went up the narrow steps to the second floor. There were six clearly marked bedrooms. Darcy knocked on the one numbered four. Steps flew to the door. It was flung open with a shout of “Wickham!” Instead, of course, Lydia found Bingley and Darcy in her doorway. “Mr. Darcy! Mr. Bingley!” Lydia exclaimed, stepping back into the room. Bingley and Darcy followed to just inside the door.
Then Lydia flooded them with a flurry of queries, “Why are you here? Where is Wickham? Have you come as his surrogates? His best men?”
“We are not emissaries of George Wickham,” Bingley said, aghast at the thought.
“Then why—“ Suddenly Lydia’s expression changed from one of excitement to one of alarm. She rushed for the door. Darcy blocked it.
“Why, Miss Lydia?” Darcy said sarcastically. “The why is why are you here? Your mother is hysterical, and your father is in a state of frantic despair and sorrow. Your sisters weep in unhappiness. Why would you do this to your loving and beloved family for a rogue like Wickham?”
“I love him! He loves me!”
“No, he does not!” Bingley inserted.
Lydia flounced over to the bed and plopped down on it. “I know you are here to take me home. I won’t go.”
“Yes, you will,” Darcy replied calmly. “The carriage is ordered. We are here to escort you to Longbourn.”
“I won’t go, I said.”
“Wickham is the scoundrel who abducted your sisters and held them captive in a windowless room,” Darcy said.
“And he did it to extract thirty thousand pounds from Darcy and me,” Bingley added.
“I don’t believe one word you are saying. Why would anyone expect you gentlemen to pay for a Bennet? You are not related to us.”
“Because, Miss Lydia, we have a long history with Mr. Wickham. He knows us to be honorable gentlemen who would not allow your sisters to suffer when we had the means to alleviate the situation.”
“And Wickham is not honorable!” Bingley said, caustically.
“I don’t believe you. You are just trying to trick me into leaving my dear Wickham to go back to boring, old Longbourn.”
“Actually, Miss Lydia, I have proof.” Darcy pulled out the ransom note and held it in his outstretched hand. Lydia got off the bed and snatched the letter from Darcy’s hand.
After glancing at it, she stated, “It has no signature.”
“Does it matter? The letter clearly states that you are a bargaining chip and that the author has no intention of marrying you,” Darcy said.
“He even calls you a silly girl,” Bingley couldn’t resist attesting.
Lydia burst into tears. Darcy gathered her reticule. She didn’t appear to have any other belongings, not too surprising, since she’d been on a shopping trip to town, when Wickham had accosted her with his offer.
“I’ll never get married now. No one will have me,” she complained, tears falling as they descended the staircase.
“Very few people know of your presumed elopement. Wickham will not spread the word of his villainy. Your family will not. Our footmen are sworn to secrecy. We certainly have no intention of mentioning anything of your ordeal,” Darcy said. “You’ve only been absent a couple of days. No one is aware that you are missing.”
“Just do not tell your Aunt Phillips, Miss Lydia,” Bingley advised. ”I like her, but she is an incorrigible gossip.”
“And Mr. Rollins?” she asked, when they reached the bottom of the stairs.
“Mr. Rollins will not, my dear Lydia. How can you think such a thing about your own godfather?” Mr. Rollins answered.
“Your discretion is very much appreciated, Mr. Rollins,” Bingley said. “Come to Netherfield for a drink anytime. We Oxford men have to stick together.”
“Thank you.”
“In fact come next Wednesday night for dinner,” Bingley invited.
“I’d be delighted.”
“Shall we say seven?”
“Seven it is. Better not ask Thomas at the same time. He may not favor my romantic inclinations. It may take him some time to forgive me.”
“Mr. Rollins, Mr. Darcy, Miss Lydia and I have no intention of telling Mr. Bennet that you were shielding Miss Lydia. Do we, Miss Lydia?” Bingley pointedly asked.
“Why, no.”
“Excellent! Invite Thomas then by all means. I’d love to see him.”
Darcy bowed to Lydia. “We shall see you to your carriage.”
“Won’t one of you ride with me?”
“No!” Bingley and Darcy said in unison. “We’ll escort you.”
*****
For the second time in three days Darcy and Bingley delivered the kidnapped home to Mr. Bennet.
“We’ll have to stop meeting like this, Mr. Bennet,” Darcy kidded, when he and Bingley were invited into Mr. Bennet’s library for a celebratory drink.
“Bennet, please. No more of this formality. We are far too intimate,” Mr. Bennet said with a wink.
Then getting more serious, the three discussed Wickham and the likelihood of his remaining a continuing threat to the Bennet sisters and the Darcy/Bingley wallets.
“In the short term I suggest we relax and wait. Wickham does not know that Lydia is no longer at the inn, awaiting his return.” Darcy purposely did not mention the name of the inn, which Bennet would certainly recognize as that of his friend. “Wickham will probably send one of us a letter of instruction.”
“But, Darcy, he might go back and check on her, like he did Jane and her sisters,” Bingley warned.
“I doubt that. Since he has no interest in Lydia except as a pawn in his chess game with us, he will want to avoid her until checkmate. If she raises a fuss, his game is forfeit.”
”Great point. What excuse would he give her this time for not leaving immediately for Gretna Green.”
“We must keep Lydia out of sight,” Mr. Bennet said. “She’ll love that,” he added sarcastically.
“Also it is best if the other Bennet ladies, including Mrs. Bennet, do not appear too sprightly when they go to town. Wickham might hear of it and be suspicious.”
“They must appear normal, however. We promised Lydia that her secret assignation would remain just that—a secret,” Bingley reminded them.
“When we get the letter, we can plan our next step, depending on its instruction. There is no reason to speculate as to our course of action at this time.”
“Will he try again?” Mr. Bennet asked.
“I am not sure he will. He has now admitted to his identity,” Darcy answered. “Wickham know
s I could become angry enough to call him out over this. He might win in a duel with me, but he might not. Wickham never wages fifty/fifty odds.”
“It’s late, Darcy. Let’s go home and see if a post awaits us on the hall table,” Bingley said with a smile, rising and putting on his hat.
Darcy stood, as did Mr. Bennet. “We’ll let you know, sir, as soon as we hear anything. In the meantime I have contacted my cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam. If Wickham escapes our clutches, Richard will use his influence to help us track him down.”
“Thank you. I don’t want to be forever looking over my shoulder, worried that he will reappear in a month or two to grab Elizabeth on one of her walks or Kitty from the conservatory.”
“Certainly not. Either he leaves the country or we see to it that he is incarcerated.”
Back home at Netherfield, the two men left the horses in the care of the grooms and retired to the small dining room for a late supper of cheese, cold cuts and ale. No letter had been found on the table in the front hall.
“I want this over with, Bingley. I have a date to wade in the creek with Miss Elizabeth.”
“And I with Miss Bennet.”
The two nodded. “We want them . . . “ Darcy began.
“ . . . safe,” Charles finished with a grin. They both burst into exhausted laughter and then clicked their steins in a spirit of great relief and cheer.
*****
A letter did arrive by post the next morning, but not from George Wickham.
Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam wrote:
I will arrive this evening, so we can confer. I have taken a ten day leave. Let’s solve this Wickham problem once and for all.
Thank you, Charles, for inviting me to visit. I look forward to seeing Netherfield.
Richard
Postscript: May I meet the Bennet sisters while I am there? They sound intriguing.
Darcy immediately sent a missive of his own.
Dear Misses Bennets:
My cousin, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam, arrives tonight. He requests an introduction. Can we meet tomorrow for our promised rendezvous at the creek? Does ten in the morning suit?
Fitzwilliam Darcy
Postscript: We have not received any communication yet from Wickham, so do not bring Lydia. She needs to remain incommunicado. Who knows from which hill Wickham observes everything we do?
Postscript: My courier will await your reply.
The reply was succinct.
We will be there.
The Bennet sisters.
*****
Darcy awoke early to prepare for his ten o’clock dip into the flow of flirtation. Romance was in the air, and he wanted to be ready for it.
Colonel Fitzwilliam had ridden in about ten last evening. After a night cap and a brief synopsis of the Wickham escapades, the three gents had elected to retire early. The past few days had been mentally and physically exhausting. Darcy knew that Richard would be up early too—such being the normal course of military life. They agreed to convene for breakfast at eight. They would plot their strategy to foil Wickham then. Bingley would join them at nine for a review of their decisions over his own breakfast. A half an hour past, the men would mount their horses and head for the stream.
Allen was ready in front of the shaving table, when Darcy exited his bath. “You remembered your towel, sir,” Allen kidded, knowing that his master was off again this morning to meet the charming Bennet sisters.
“Yes, but not my robe.” Darcy laughed, as he headed to the armoire for his dressing gown. Donning the robe and tossing the towel back toward the tub, he sat down in front of the mirror.
“Musk?”
“By all means.”
“I understand that the colonel and his batman arrived last night.”
“Yes, he’s here for ten days.”
“Excellent.”
“It is, Allen. We are hoping to outfox a skunk—with apologies to all the innocent skunks out there.”
“Very good, Mr. D. Now no more conversation please.” With that Allen began to color Darcy’s face white with globs of musk scented cream. Darcy relaxed back in the chair, content and expectant.
Fifteen minutes later, formally shaved and his hair trimmed, Darcy outfitted himself in a casual shirt over tightly fitted breeches with silk stockings ending in comfortably loose slippers. Darcy descended the staircase for breakfast with the colonel.
Just at that moment young Kerry burst through the door from the kitchen wing and rushed up to Darcy, as he waited surprised, his hand still on the balustrade.
“Mr. Darcy, sir,” Kerry huffed, obviously laboring for air.
“Take a breath, son.”
The boy did, smiling gratefully.
“Now what is the big hurry?”
“A man with a handkerchief over his face just handed me this over on the far side of the field, where I was repairing a fence. He ordered me to deliver it to you post haste. So I ran all the way.”
“And you did. Now relax and get yourself a cup of tea. Tell cook that is Mr. Darcy’s orders.”
“Yes, sir,” Kerry said, smiling even more broadly.
Colonel Fitzwilliam stuck his head out of the breakfast room. “Care for tea?” he said with a grin. “And bring the masked man’s missive with you,” Fitzwilliam teased.
Darcy ceremoniously placed the letter on a silver salver in the front hall and with a bow carried it to the breakfast room. He set it in a place of honor between two silver candelabra. He bowed again. Richard almost bent double with laughter. Smirking, Darcy poured his tea and served himself a generous portion of eggs, ham and English muffins. “Let’s eat,” he jeered, but with a decided grin.
Both men ignored the letter as they ate and spoke of their recent adventures.
“No uprising by Napoleon, I presume.”
“Not so one would notice—well, in the Regent’s guard anyway.”
“It is an important duty—protecting our future king,” Darcy said with a tinge of the slightest sarcasm.
“And very strenuous. He takes us from Bath to London and back again.”
“Prince George does seem to favor the water.”
“Yes, so obviously we and the Regent venture quite often to the coast as well.”
“The Prince has his spy glass out searching for Napoleon no doubt.”
“When he’s not swimming in the waters.”
Looking askance, Darcy whispered, “Isn’t he afraid he’ll be mistaken for a whale?”
The two almost fell backward in their chairs, so intense was their hilarity.
Tears streaming down from his eyes, Richard said, “And you?”
“My time has been spent on besting a shrimp.”
“Well, yes. We’ve finished breakfast. Shall we?” Richard asked, gesturing toward the note.
“You do the honors, O Keeper of the Nation’s Sanctity,” Darcy said, handing the letter to the colonel.
Richard tore open the note and read:
Leave the thirty thousand inside the Spring Station changing room. Put a lock on the door. It must be delivered after dark today. Lydia will be released when I decide to retrieve the ransom today, tomorrow or after Christmas.
“Always was a shifty one,” Darcy said, actually quite impressed with Wickham’s sagacity.
“He knew we’d stake the place out.”
“But now we must decide, if it is worth the manpower.”
“Let me think on it.”
“If we don’t, we will not know when Wickham discovers that there is no ransom.”
“And when he discovers there is no ransom . . . “
“The ladies might be once again in jeopardy.”
“And we will not know exactly when that is.”
“Exactly!”
“Oh, how I hate being at Wickham’s mercy!”
At that moment Bingley’s humming rang out from the hall. “Let’s ask Charles. Maybe he can send his footmen out in pairs,” Fitzwilliam suggested.
“I cou
ld bring reinforcements down from Darcy House.”
“Excellent.”
Bingley entered, also clad in breeches and slippers. “I’m ready for a swim.”
Darcy handed Bingley the note. “That bloody ba . . . “ Bingley looked around. “ . . . ad—uh—monster.”
“Eat up, Bingley. We’ve ladies in waiting,” the colonel said.
“Yes, and just for us,” Darcy added.
“So we do.”
While Bingley ate, the other two apprised him of their plan.
“I personally think he’s misleading us. He will not wait weeks. He still thinks Lydia is at the inn. He knows her well enough to realize she has little patience. She would cause a scene, if he takes too long.”
“So he’ll go to the Imaginary Inn and find her gone . . . “
“Unlikely. He’ll go to the Spring Station and find—“
“Nothing.”
“So?”
“So, let’s set up a surveillance. A pair of footmen. One remains to observe his response and the other leaves to alert us.”
“I could just go down to the military headquarters and call him out.”
“Don’t you want definitive proof? Then we could alert the authorities.”
“Yes, Darcy, I don’t want you dueling him unless it’s the only answer,” Richard said adamantly. “Dueling is illegal. If you killed Wickham, you might have to leave the country yourself.”
“If only he’d signed that ransom note,” Darcy complained. Then Darcy smiled. “Are you finished, Charles? We’ve got Bennet sisters in our immediate future.”
“Yes. We now know that Wickham will not go to the Spring Station before tonight at the earliest. We’ll come home and establish a rotation and routine for the footmen.”
“Lucky them.”
“Oh, we can provide some dice, cards and a stack of shillings to keep them occupied.”
“Like I said ‘lucky them’.”
*****
Darcy, Bingley and even Richard were all excited with anticipation, as they galloped toward the meandering brook, which separated Longbourn Estate from its Netherfield counterpart.