by Linda Wells
Fate and Consequences
Linda Wells
Dedicated to Catherine and Tania
Bill and Rick
And to all who supported me at the Meryton Literary Society while creating this story.
Fate and Consequences
Copyright © 2009 Linda Wells
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form whatsoever.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead; is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
Cover design by Cloudcat Graphics
Cover image by: ©Milosluz, Dreamstime.com Back Cover image by: ©Davidmartyn, Dreamstime.com
Chapter 1
“What do you mean, they are gone?” Fitzwilliam Darcy’s eyes bore into the frightened servant girl’s, demanding her immediate answer.
“They left just a few hours ago, sir, Miss Darcy, Mrs. Younge, and Mr. Wickham.” She squeaked.
“Wickham!” He roared. “Where did they go?”
“I heard them speaking of Gretna Green, sir. I think they were to stop in Hertfordshire for the night.”
“My God!” Darcy ran out to his carriage, where his valet was just seeing his luggage removed. “Roberts!”
“Sir?” Seeing his master’s distress, Roberts instantly snapped to attention and followed him into the cottage where he watched him scratching out a note.
“Take the coach and go directly to Rosings. My cousin Fitzwilliam should be there visiting Lady Catherine with his parents. Give him this, and tell him he may use this coach if he does not wish to ride.”
Stunned by his uncharacteristic behaviour he stared. “But sir, what about you?”
Darcy grew impatient with the delay. “I will hire a horse and leave in a few moments. Now go man! There is not a second to lose!”
“Sir, you must take a change of clothing …” The ever efficient valet quickly pulled out a valise suitable for attaching to a saddle and stuffed in some items. Handing it to his furious and agitated master, he leapt into the carriage. Darcy gave terse orders to the coachman and watched them disappear down the street and out of Ramsgate. Spotting the man who cared for the rented cottage, he demanded the location of the nearest stables and any information of Wickham. He was told that Wickham had been a regular visitor for weeks and seemed quite a favourite of Miss Darcy’s. A vision of his innocent little sister in the hands of that cad played before Darcy’s eyes. Without a word, he ran to the stables, chose the best horse, asked for the directions given to the coach Wickham had hired there, and was on his way.
He pushed his mount hard, matching his fury and fear, and slowed from the gallop only when he felt the animal labouring. He hoped that travelling on horseback would help him make up the time lost by his delay in following the slower coach. At every inn and post stop he scanned the carriages, riding in long enough to inquire of the servants if they had come from Ramsgate, and then pressing on. During the furious ride, his head filled with thoughts. I should have paid off the servants for their silence, what will happen if their gossip reaches town? What will Wickham do? Will he marry then abandon her? It must be all for her dowry, he can not possibly love her. And if I find him in time, will he blackmail me to remain quiet? Will this hang over Georgiana’s head until she marries?
It was nearly seven o’clock and his second horse of the day was struggling when he reached another inn at the village of Meryton. He knew he must stop for the night. He was not armed, and travelling alone in twilight or worse, dark, was dangerous as he was unfamiliar with the area. Reluctantly he turned the horse to the stables where he saw one coach parked; its horses in the process of being unhitched. Dismounting, he handed his reins to the groom who ran up. “This horse has had a hard ride. Give him extra care.”
“Yes sir!” The eager lad tugged his forelock and caught the coin that Darcy threw to him. For seemingly the hundredth time that day, Darcy wearily asked him, “Can you tell me where this coach is from?”
“Yes sir, Ramsgate, sir. Heading for Scotland, I hear.”
Darcy straightened. “Two women and a man?”
“Yes sir!”
Darcy tossed him another coin and nodded. He turned and scanned the building in front of him. He was not too late to save Georgiana from marrying Wickham. Her reputation may very well already be ruined, but at least she would not be married at the age of fifteen to a profligate cur.
He decided to enter through the back door so that he could see the public rooms without drawing notice. The inn’s workers cast him odd looks as the well-dressed gentleman made his way through the kitchen to the dining room. The murderous look in his eye was enough to convince them to give him a wide berth, but as soon as he passed, the curious among them crept forward to see what was brewing. The room was nearly empty save for a table at a corner where he saw his sister’s golden hair. She sat stiffly. When he saw her head turn, his chest grew tight. Whatever excitement she may have had for her adventure that morning was clearly dissipating. In her face he read discomfort and fear. He tore his eyes away to look at Wickham, and saw his old enemy’s false sincerity as he bent towards her and kissed her hand. Darcy’s fingers twitched. All he saw of his sister’s companion, Mrs. Younge, was the back of her head. That was good. With Wickham’s attention on Georgiana, he could step unnoticed into the room.
A voice at his shoulder startled him. “What is your plan, Cousin?”
He spun to see the very welcome sight of Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam. “Richard!” He said in a low voice. “How on earth did you get here so quickly?”
“Your coach made Rosings in two hours, and I was just approaching the stables to take a ride. I knew to head towards Hertfordshire from your note, and this village seemed a logical place for them to break their journey. I made a point of checking the inns as I approached the area, and this was my fourth try. Mother and Father think that I have been called to duty. I was likely not very far behind you the whole way; you could have stopped at Rosings yourself to collect me.” He kept his eyes fixed on their quarry. “Have you a plan or do you wish to just confront them?”
Darcy glanced at his cousin and returned his gaze to the table. “I do not wish for a scene, perhaps we can still save Georgiana’s reputation if her name is not spoken.” He knew in his heart that was unlikely. The servants at Ramsgate were doubtless already talking about it to their friends, and it was only a matter of time before the fresh gossip was spoken to some gentleman or lady on holiday.
Richard watched his face. “Then we shall move quietly. I would like to have my chance at him, as I imagine you would as well, Darcy.”
“I have not your sword, but at this moment I feel my hands would serve the purpose well.” His glare fixed on Wickham’s face.
Richard looked at him closely. “You will call him out?”
“Would I win?” Darcy glanced at him.
Richard considered the question. “Perhaps, you are an excellent shot, and outstanding with your foil, but I would not put it past him to cheat.”
“Your faith is heartening, Richard.” Darcy said with no little sarcasm. He had relaxed slightly; knowing his cousin and Georgiana’s other guardian was there to help. He also knew that violence was not the way to handle his boyhood enemy.
“I will gladly kill him.” Richard said quietly. There was no emotion in his voice. He had killed for King and country during his army service, this was no different. He would be ridding the country of some vermin. Darcy saw the cold light in his eyes and knew he was serious. Richard gripped his blade. “Say the word and I will do it now.”
“No, not if we are to redeem Georgiana.” H
e put his hand on his cousin’s taut arm.
“Darcy, you know it may be too late …”
“She is young, perhaps it can be passed as a foolish mistake of youth …” He said weakly.
The two men’s eyes met. They knew how unlikely that was. “Come on Darcy.” They entered the dining room and Georgiana spotted them first. The look of relief on her face was heartbreaking. It was obvious she had not thought through what she had agreed to do, and the reality of her situation was becoming very clear.
Wickham saw her change of expression and looked up. He immediately stood. “Darcy, Fitzwilliam, what a surprise!” Mrs. Younge spun around in her chair, her face reflected her fear.
Darcy’s eyes burned into Wickham’s but he addressed his sister. “Go to your room Georgiana. I will speak to you shortly.”
She sat frozen. His voice grew harsher. “GO! NOW!”
She jumped up and stammered, “Yes, Brother!” and ran from the room.
Darcy’s eyes turned to Mrs. Younge. “Be on the next post coach and never darken my door or approach my family again.” Feeling the tightly controlled anger in his voice she arose and without a backward glance ran to collect her things and quickly boarded a coach that was just leaving the inn to continue its journey. That left Darcy and Richard alone with Wickham. “Step outside, Wickham.” Darcy said harshly.
Wickham shook his head. “I am not a fool; I will remain inside, thank you.”
Darcy’s eyes blazed and he stepped closer. “Explain yourself!”
Wickham smirked. Not because he was brave, but because he knew it infuriated Darcy. “I am engaged to your sister.”
“Not without my consent. She is a child.”
“Not according to the law.”
“She is not of age.”
“That does not matter in Gretna Green, and she wants to be my wife.” Wickham smiled widely.
Darcy balled his hands into fists and spoke through clenched teeth. “I do not even want to know what lies you whispered to her. Be gone Wickham, my sister is not marrying you.”
He laughed, enjoying seeing Darcy suffer. “Fine, then give me the living at Kympton your father promised me.”
“I already paid you its value, we are even and you know it.” He spat.
“Hardly. You have now cheated me of the thirty thousand pounds in your sister’s dowry. I will extract it from you, in exchange for my silence.” His eyes were cold and serious.
Darcy stepped forward, “And you were going to cheat my sister of a settlement before marriage and leave her penniless when you disappeared!”
Wickham laughed, “Would I truly leave my dear, pretty wife? You think so poorly of me Darcy? I would want to have many children with her.” His eyes gleamed, watching Darcy’s face contort with his anger and disgust.
“I suggest you leave now before I silence you permanently, Wickham!” Richard hissed.
Wickham saw Richard’s hand on his sabre and knew to stop. Darcy never frightened him, but he knew enough not to taunt the colonel. He picked up his hat and moved to the doorway. He looked up at Darcy. “I will be in touch for my first payment.” He turned and left the room.
“You should have let me kill him. He will bleed you forever.”
“I can not have his blood on your hands, Richard. We can not risk being tried for his murder, no matter how justified it may be.” He sighed. “Once Georgiana is married Wickham’s threats will be meaningless. She will be out in two years …” He looked down, knowing already it was hopeless. What respectable man will want her once this news was out? “I have failed her.” He said softly.
“No, we both were taken in by Mrs. Younge’s credentials. She must be a friend of Wickham’s. You saved Georgiana from a marriage of hell to that cur. I doubt he would have remained with her once he had her dowry. You know as well as I do that you would have given it to him, despite your objections. You could not have seen her left with nothing. As soon as he had the funds, she would have been abandoned and back with you.”
“But what would have been left of her?” He asked quietly and sighed. “Let us go to her.”
“You go. I will just make sure that Wickham is on his way.” Richard’s posture changed to that of a soldier.
Darcy regarded him warily. “What are you going to do?”
He smiled. “Never mind. Go to Georgiana. She needs you.”
Darcy stared at him, trying to read his face, and gave up. He asked the innkeeper to prepare two rooms, taking care to give a false name in an attempt to protect his sister, and was directed to Georgiana’s. He found his sister sitting on the bed, clutching a pillow and sobbing quietly.
“Georgiana.” He said softly and closing the door, crossed the room. She made no notice of him as he sat beside her and patted her shoulder. “How are you, dear?”
“Oh how can you touch me? How can you speak to me?” She cried. “What have I done?”
Darcy closed his eyes and tried to sound reassuring. “It will be well, we found you in time. You will not be tied for life to him.” He kissed her hair. “Can you tell me how this happened?”
Taking a breath, she allowed the story to pour out. “He saw me one day as we walked. He was so kind and charming, I remembered how fond I was of him growing up at Pemberley, and Mrs. Younge encouraged me to spend time with him, and … he proposed. I wanted to talk to you, but he convinced me we should elope and surprise you with the news. It seemed so romantic when he spoke of it, but as we travelled further away, I … I knew it was wrong, but could not think of a way to stop it.” She buried her face in her hands. “I have disappointed you. Oh what have I done?”
Darcy tried to control his emotions. He felt guilty for leaving her vulnerable to such a man, and for choosing Mrs. Younge as her companion. He tried to keep the edge of anger and pain from his voice as he asked, “Did he … touch you in any way?”
“He kissed me and held me.” She whispered.
He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw as he took her hand. “Nothing more?”
“What else is there?” Her innocence was painful to see. Suddenly she gasped. “Do you mean what …” She thought of the teachings of her governess and Aunt Ellen. “Oh no, no, not that!”
Breathing again, he whispered, “Thank God.” He rubbed her hand as her sobs renewed.
A knock at the door startled them. Darcy stood and opened it to Richard, then began pacing. Richard sat next to Georgiana, and held her hand. “How are you, dear?” Her sobs continued until she opened her eyes and saw bruises forming on his hand.
She looked up. “What happened to you?”
Darcy stopped his pacing and turned to examine him. “What have you done!”
“I gave our friend a taste of our displeasure.” He said with satisfaction.
“Good Lord, Richard! You beat him?” He clenched his fists in agitation. “You can not fight Wickham with violence, there are other ways to work on him, he is clever, and he will use this to his advantage!”
Richard stared at Darcy. “He ran away from me with his tail between his legs, it was most effective, I assure you!”
“Yes, and as soon as he is out of our sight, he will plot ways to take his revenge.” Darcy fumed. “Why can you not keep your hot head under control?! Who knows what he will do now? I have a feeling it will be more than money!”
“What do you mean?” Richard began to realize his error.
“He will attempt to ruin us.” Darcy said simply.
Richard brushed that off. “He has no influence in society.”
“He only needs to send a letter to the gossip columns. It will grow from there without any help from him. Add to that whatever word comes from Ramsgate …” Darcy spun away and stood staring out of the window into the darkening sky.
“But how can he blackmail you if the story is out? I think he will remain silent, Darcy.” Richard tried to remain confident.
“Can you not understand, Richard? Facts do not matter to him. He can embellish it as much as he
wishes. He can say that Georgiana was compromised.” Georgiana gasped. Darcy remembered that she was in the room and hung his head. “I am sorry dear, but you may as well realize now, this could be very ugly for some time.” He turned to Richard. “We must secure a carriage and return to London. We need to speak to your parents about how to proceed.”
Numb, Richard nodded. “Wickham left without the carriage he hired. We could take that. I will speak to the coachman now.” He stood. “It seems this is a mess. I can not imagine what Father will say.”
They looked at Georgiana who had curled up in a ball on the bed. Their eyes met. “Georgiana, will you be well? Would you like me to stay with you while you sleep?” Darcy said softly.
She whispered. “Please leave me, Brother. Let me contemplate my transgressions alone.” Darcy looked helplessly at Richard, who shrugged. Comforting was not something that Darcy knew how to do. They each kissed her cheek. “My room is just across the hall, if you need me during the night, come to me. Please?”
She nodded and said nothing. The men took their leave and retired to Darcy’s room, where brandy and food was ordered. It would be a long night of talking for them.
DARCY STARED into the mirror, took another swipe at his cheek with the razor, and cursed, feeling the sharp pain from the nick of the blade along his jaw. He quickly pressed a towel to the cut and looked miserably at the exhausted face that gazed back at him. He swore when he returned home he would give Roberts a pay raise just for sparing him this chore. Searching through the shaving kit he found some alum powder and applied it to the cut. Lifting his chin, he surveyed the damage; hopefully my cravat will cover the mark. He finished his task and continued with his rudimentary wash in the basin of the small room at the inn in, Where am I again? Oh yes, Meryton, the servant had said. Drying off, he went to pull on the clean shirt and undergarments his valet had thankfully forced upon him. At least he felt something comfortable next to his skin. His coat and trousers had been brushed by the inn’s staff late that night. He could not complain, at least he had something to wear. Richard had only his uniform, although he was used to not changing clothes for days or even weeks at a time.