Georgiana was relieved she wasn’t going to be incarcerated in a cellar; at least he was chivvying her towards the front of the house. He pointed to a small, dark anteroom and she obediently stepped inside. The door slammed behind her, leaving her alone. She heard the sound of a key being turned and then her captor’s footsteps faded away.
There had been no time to see if the room was furnished and she was reluctant to move from her position inside the door until her vision adjusted to the darkness. Although the shutters were closed a small amount of light filtered through the cracks in the wooden struts and, after a few minutes, she was able to pick out various shapes and identify them as a table, chair, and what could be a commode. On the far side, against the wall, was a narrow bed.
Her heart had returned to its normal, regular beat and she was more in control of the situation than she had been when she was being transported in the carriage. She walked to the window and attempted to open the shutters but they had been nailed together; she would have to find something to prise off the pieces of wood that had been put across the gap if she wished to be able to see out of the window.
Maybe there was something she could use – she examined the table and chair, but they were solid and no amount of tugging and pulling made any difference. The legs and back of the chair remained firmly fixed together. Disappointed that her first attempt had ended in failure, she began a more thorough search of the chamber she had been imprisoned in.
The small wooden cupboard did indeed contain a chamber pot. She prayed fervently that she would not be obliged to use this as when doing so she would be in full view of anyone who cared to open the door; they had not thought to give her a screen for privacy.
The fireplace was empty. Wickham obviously didn’t intend her to be comfortable during her incarceration. After a further half an hour of fruitless searching she abandoned the idea that she would be able to open the shutters. She sank onto the chair and after putting her arms on the table she dropped her head upon them in despair.
She closed her eyes and ran through the events of the morning trying to make sense of them. Had Mary been involved in this plot and deliberately led her to the place where the carriage was waiting? The villain who had brought her here had said he had to capture a second person – she was at a loss to fathom out who the second victim might be.
Her mouth was dry, her stomach rumbled, it had been a long time since she had broken her fast. Then she jerked upright as something else occurred to her. Mary and Mr Colby must have seen her being abducted, but would they have alerted Jonathan and Adam to her disappearance? Although she and Mary had not become as close as she and Kitty had, she could not believe the girl would have betrayed her trust like this. No – Mary would definitely say what she had seen.
Adam and Jonathan were military men, they would know what to do and a rescue party would already be on its way to her. Was there anything she could do to cause Wickham problems? The door to the chamber opened inwards – if she could drag a few pieces of furniture across and pile them up against the entrance this would delay anybody getting in. The fact that this meant she would also not be given anything to eat or drink was immaterial. She would be safe, and with luck would remain so until they arrived to rescue her.
If she was being realistic the chances of them finding her today were remote, but find her they would – of that she was certain – therefore she must keep herself safe until they did arrive. She shivered as an unwelcome thought slipped into her head.
Wickham intended to ruin her and to do that all he needed was for her to be found unchaperoned with an unmarried gentleman. This must be what her kidnapper was doing at the moment – he was fetching someone who would take her good name if he could get into this chamber and remain here all night. She refused to consider the possibility that whoever this unknown gentleman was would force his attentions on her. If that were to happen then no decent man would ever marry her – Jonathan would be lost to her forever.
This thought gave her the necessary impetus to leap to her feet and begin to build a barricade. The bed was cast iron and was difficult to move but eventually she dragged it across the boards and leant it against the door. She followed with the lumpy horsehair mattress, the table and the chair. She hastily removed the chamber pot from the cupboard and then added this to the inadequate pile she had assembled.
At least she was warm, if decidedly dirty, and had done the best she could to keep herself inviolate. If she sat on the chair then she would be adding her own weight to the barrier and this might make all the difference.
*
Jonathan took in the situation at a glance; he did not have to be told that something catastrophic had occurred which involved both Georgiana and Mary.
‘Adam, what the hell is going on here? Has that bastard got Georgiana? Where is Mary – surely he hasn’t taken her too?’
‘Come into the drawing room, we cannot discuss it out here.’ Adam picked up his sobbing wife and carried her; she seemed incapable of saying anything sensible. Once they were safely inside and both doors were closed he dumped Kitty on a chair and turned to face him.
‘Kitty has no idea where the others are – it appears she was busy at the counter and then Ellie, Georgiana’s maid, told her that her mistress had gone after Mary who had left the shop. That is the last time either girl was seen.’
‘For God’s sake, what about the two footmen who were to accompany her? Why didn’t they do something?’
‘The Prince drove in an open carriage down Bond Street this morning and that caused chaos. The men who were supposed to be waiting at the door decided to join the gawping crowd to watch the carriage go past.’
‘I take it they have been dismissed without reference?’ If they hadn’t, Jonathan decided he would deal with the matter himself.
‘They have, they are collecting their belongings and will be off the premises within the hour. I have asked all the male staff to assemble in the hall and was about to organise a search.’
Jonathan crouched down beside the sobbing girl. ‘Kitty, my dear, stop crying and talk to me. How long ago did you notice Mary and Georgiana had gone?’ Whilst he waited for her to mop her eyes he spoke directly to Adam. ‘We need to speak to both maids, they might have seen something.’
He heard his friend move off and speak to somebody and knew the servants would be summoned immediately. Kitty had finally stopped crying.
‘As soon as Ellie told me Georgiana had gone after my sister I rushed to the door but I couldn’t see either of them.’ Her voice was barely above a whisper, and her eyes blotched and red. She paused and blew her nose loudly before continuing. ‘I thought at first that the footmen had accompanied them but then Ellie saw them staring down the road after the Prince’s carriage. I thought there was no point in searching myself so I ran back and had only just arrived when you came in.’
‘Thank you, sweetheart, none of this was your fault. Don’t worry, Adam and I will find them.’
There was a sudden commotion outside and the doors flew open to reveal Mary, her cheeks tear-streaked and her bonnet askew. ‘I cannot believe I was so taken in by him. They have stolen Georgiana, it is Wickham and Lydia who have taken her as I recognised our carriage.’
Jonathan pointed to a chair and the girl collapsed on to it, she was visibly shaking and he hated having to interrogate her so fiercely. ‘You had better tell us exactly how you were involved with this. There is no time to waste.’
‘Mr Colby sent me a note asking me to meet him again in Dover Street and I slipped away hoping I could be back before I was missed. It was just a ploy to draw Georgiana after me. Our stolen carriage was there the first time as well, but I didn’t realise the significance until today. I was arguing about it with Mr Colby when something made me look over my shoulder and I saw Georgiana being snatched.’
‘Go on – what happened next?’
‘Mr Colby ran away, abandoning me on the pavement. I saw the carriage heading for Piccadilly, b
ut I did not wait, then my maid and I ran all the way back to tell you what had happened.’
‘What does the Bennet carriage look like?’
She recoiled at his sharp tone and swallowed nervously. ‘It is painted dark blue and has brass lamps hanging on either side of the box. It was drawn by a team of bay horses.’
Jonathan exchanged a glance with his friend. Adam nodded. ‘I shall find Colby, he is up to his neck in this and will not come out unscathed.’
The doors opened for a second time and the two maidservants were all but pushed into the drawing room. The girls had little else to add to what they already knew. From the racket outside the male members of staff were waiting for instructions.
Adam had already left to find Colby and would no doubt knock the information out of him if necessary. Jonathan would do the rest. He wished he had his pistols with him, but too late to repine, he must manage with what he had.
‘Kitty, take your sister to her bedchamber and make sure she remains there. She is to speak to no one. She will be returned to her parents in disgrace when this is over.’ This was harsh, but Georgiana would not have been abducted without Mary’s unwitting assistance.
He waited until the two girls had gone and then followed them. He faced the motley crew of inside and outside men, grooms, gardeners and footmen and gave them their orders.
‘No doubt you are aware that Miss Darcy has been abducted by Mr Wickham. We know that the carriage was heading for Piccadilly so we will begin our search that side of town. How many of you ride?’
An older man, dressed smartly in buff breeches and boots, stepped forward. ‘We have eight horses, major, plus your own mount. They are all being saddled.’ He gestured to the five similarly garbed men standing in a group around him. ‘These are stable hands and outriders, sir, we need only two more.’
Three footmen raised their hands and Jonathan selected the two youngest and fittest. ‘You have five minutes to change and be outside ready to ride.’ He dismissed the rest of the men before explaining to those remaining what he wished them to do.
‘You,’ he pointed to the man who had spoken. ‘I take it you are the head groom? What is your name?’
‘Jarvis, major, at your service.’
‘Then, Jarvis, is there anyone amongst you who is familiar with the area of the city to the west of Piccadilly? As far afield as Chelsea perhaps?’
Jarvis touched his forelock and nodded. ‘I reckon I’m your man, I come from St Martin-in-the-Fields myself.’
‘In which case, Jarvis, you take three of your best men and set off immediately. Do not make a parade of this, ride briskly but not in a way to draw attention to yourselves. Get your men to stop and ask passers-by if they saw a dark blue carriage drawn by two bays go past, and in which direction it was travelling.’
He had moved into a military frame of mind and viewed these men as his temporary soldiers. ‘You must take cudgels, and be prepared to use them if necessary.’
Jarvis took three of the men and Jonathan snapped his fingers at the butler who was lurking in the background. ‘The keys to the gun cupboard, now, if you please.’
Robinson held out his hand. ‘I have them here, Major Brownstone, if you would care to follow me.’
Jonathan turned to the remaining couple of men. ‘Either of you know how to handle a gun?’
‘I can use a musket, sir, me pa showed me like,’ one of them replied.
‘Excellent, come with me. You,’ he pointed to the other groom, ‘when the footmen return get them outside and mounted. I shall wish to leave immediately I have the weapons I require.’
In less than ten minutes he was in the stable yard, two loaded and primed pistols in his pockets and a sword strapped behind him. When he rescued Georgiana he did not intend any of the perpetrators to survive the encounter.
Chapter Twenty-one
Georgiana had no way of knowing how long she had been locked in this dismal room. The house was silent, she was almost certain there was nobody else inside – not even Wickham or his wife. Would it be safe to move to the window for a few moments and stare between the slats of the closed shutters?
It was impossible to make out any shapes, but the sun did seem to be lower in the sky so perhaps it was mid-afternoon already. While she was away from her position on the chair she decided she had no option but to make use of the chamber pot.
After adjusting her clothing and returning to her seat she resolved that if Wickham did manage to break through her makeshift barricade she would throw the contents of the pot in his face. The thought cheered her up, it was hardly a ladylike thing to do, but it would give her immense satisfaction.
If the bed was still usable she might have stretched out and slept – this at least would have passed the time. The room had become even chillier as the day progressed and she wished there were some blankets she could wrap around herself. The fact that nobody had bothered to bring her food or drink, nor to set a fire or provide her with covers or a pillow, meant whoever it was either did not intend to keep her long or… she could not complete this thought.
Wickham was an evil man, but was he so past redemption he would leave her to slowly starve to death? Thank God it was not winter or she would already be in distress. She pushed these morbid thoughts aside and concentrated on the notion that Jonathan and Adam would already be searching for her. That they would eventually find her she had no doubt, but would it be in time to save her from whatever fate Wickham had in store?
Another hour went by before Georgiana heard voices and then heavy footsteps approached the door. She braced her feet on the floor and leaned back not a moment too soon. The key grated in the lock and someone threw their weight against it. Her barricade held, it shifted an inch or two but not enough to allow anyone to get in.
‘Miss Darcy, would you be kind enough to move the obstruction so I can come in? I have your supper and unless the door is open you will remain cold and hungry.’
‘Mr Wickham, I have no wish for your refreshments. I suggest that you remove yourself as Major Brownstone and Mr King will be here before long and I doubt you will escape their wrath.’ She was pleased her voice sounded clear and fear had not made it tremble.
He swore and she flinched from the venom in his voice. He hurled himself against the door and she pushed back just managing to keep things in place. He could not reach her through the windows as they were boarded up from the inside and now she was glad this had been done.
‘Damn you to hell, I shall waste no further time here. Rawlings will be arriving momentarily and it matters not whether you actually stay in the same room – the damage will be done – you will have no option but to marry him tomorrow. You can be very sure that everyone in London already knows you have eloped with him. My wife has been busy spreading the tale. You are ruined, Miss Darcy, and so is your brother.’
‘I care not what society says about me, Major Brownstone and my family will know it is untrue. I shall be married tomorrow – not to Mr Rawlings but to the man I love.’ Brave words, as she wasn’t sure even her beloved Jonathan would still wish to marry her if her reputation was gone.
There was the sound of smashing crockery – Wickham in his rage must have thrown the tray to the floor. She waited for him to try again to shift the door but it was quiet. He must have departed and the noise had drowned his footsteps. However she dare not move from her position just in case he was bluffing.
If what Wickham had said was true, then her life might depend on her ability to keep the door closed until rescue arrived. She blinked back unwanted tears at the thought that Mr Rawlings, a young man from a good family, had become so depraved he was prepared to force her into an unwanted marriage. Were he to… Were he to force his attentions upon her, to violate her innocence, then her life would be over.
She would rather die than marry such a man. Would she have the courage to end her own life if the situation demanded it?
*
Jonathan had his guide lead him through
the back streets until they reached the turning from which the stolen carriage must have emerged into Piccadilly. This route was thick with traffic; it would have been impossible for anyone to have picked out the Bennet carriage amongst so many others of similar colour and drawn by similar bay horses. He rode ahead of the other three, all of them scanning the traffic and the pedestrians in the hope of seeing someone they knew who might be able to help them with their search.
Once they were out of the congested area there were fewer carriages, but also fewer pedestrians to ask. The men under his command dodged from side to side of the street, enquiring in a coffee house, a cobblers and a haberdashery, but to no avail.
Then one of the men gestured with his hand at a carriage approaching on the other side of the road. Jonathan’s pulse quickened. This could be the Bennet carriage – it certainly fitted the description.
He had no wish to alarm the coachman so backed his horse into the passageway where he could not be seen. A man in dragoon blue was easily recognised and there wouldn’t be many in this uniform around. From his position he gestured for two of the mounted men to hide themselves on the opposite side and then spoke to the groom who was with him. ‘We need an obstruction – see that diligence waiting outside the coopers? Unhitch the team and take them across the road. Hurry, man, it needs to look like an accident and if we wait much longer the coachman will see us.’
He dismounted and dropped the reins on the ground in front of his gelding hoping it would remain until he called him. He slid his hand into his pocket and carefully eased out the pistol, he had no wish for it to go off half-cocked.
The huge dray horses were obedient to the bit and it was a matter of moments before the cart was across the thoroughfare. Fortunately there was no traffic in either direction at that moment, but it would not be long before there would be riders and drivers protesting at the delay.
An irate drayman appeared from the factory. ‘Come ’ere you – what you think you’re doing? Bring me horses back this minute before I fetch the law on you.’
A Scandal at Pemberley Page 18