Fitzwilliam Darcy

by Cressida Lane

  “Andrews is our butler at the house in Mayfair,” answered Miss Darcy. “I do hope he’s alright.”

  “I hope so as well. That reminds me,” said Elizabeth. “Where were all your other servants? I cannot imagine three men, awful as they were, could have taken out the entire staff, even armed.”

  Georgiana sighed. “There was a fire in the kitchen earlier today. They were able to get it in hand without calling the brigade, but you know how nervous everyone gets after any kind of fire. I dismissed them for the rest of the afternoon. Andrews and my maid were the only ones who insisted on remaining behind.” She paused. “I told Maria to hide in the hall closet when those awful men showed up. I hope she’s helping Andrews by now, if she’s not run home already.”

  “It is kind of you to think of someone else’s troubles when you’ve got your own at present,” said Elizabeth. It spoke well of Miss Darcy’s character.

  “Perhaps you give me too much credit, Miss Bennet,” said Miss Darcy, shaking her head. “It is easier to think of them than my present circumstance.”

  Elizabeth wanted to laugh. “I think you and I will get on just fine, Miss Darcy.”

  “Please call me Georgiana,” said the younger woman. “The circumstances of our first meeting aside, I have long looked forward to making your acquaintance.”

  “Then you must call me Elizabeth.”

  She nodded.

  “Have you any idea why they came to take you?” asked Elizabeth. Georgiana shook her head.

  “Wickham was on the point of explaining himself when those other men came into the house,” said Georgiana. “One of them had a pistol. They demanded Wickham and I leave with them at once, but I wouldn’t go. Wickham tried to convince me to go along with them, as though he knew those men. That’s when you arrived, I believe.”

  “So you are acquainted with George Wickham?” asked Elizabeth.

  Georgiana laughed without humor. The man in question arrived at the door that very moment.

  “My dear ladies,” he said, bowing low. The ruffian at the door snorted as he shut the door, locking the three of them in together. “I do hope you’ve only told her the good things, Georgiana.”

  “You despicable man. This is an unthinkable low, even for you,” began Georgiana.

  “My dear, please do not exert yourself,” he said. “We shall all be out of here in somewhat short order, I believe.”

  “I do not believe you,” said Georgiana. She pressed herself against the wall opposite the door, as though trying to put as much space between him and herself as she could manage.

  “Ah, now there I cannot blame you,” he said. He did not choose to elaborate but turned to face Elizabeth. “And you are the inimitable Miss Elizabeth Bennet. I am sorry our first meeting was… less than amiable. I daresay under other circumstances we’d have come to like each other rather well.”

  “I think not,” said Elizabeth, ice in her manner.

  “Perhaps you are right,” he said easily. “Any woman whom Darcy has so wholly approved must, by definition, be the dullest creature I ever encounter.”

  Elizabeth gasped at of the insult.

  “You are the worst of men,” said Georgiana, her color rising again.

  “Now that is simply not true, darling,” he said, turning back to her. Elizabeth searched the room for something heavy; perhaps she’d have a chance to strike him and they could make an escape.

  There was nothing in the room at all, save the tattered, filthy bed in the corner. Not even a chair to heft in their defense.

  “And I demand you cease calling me darling this instant. I cannot abide the sight of you,” continued Georgiana.

  “Be that as it may,” said Wickham with an extravagant bow. “I’m afraid you’ll have to put up with me a while longer yet.”

  “The door is right there,” said Elizabeth. “You let yourself through it. You may reverse that course of action at any time.”

  “Alas, you are mistaken, Miss Bennet,” said Wickham. “For as it happens, I am every bit as captive as your lovely selves.”

  “Liar!” cried Georgiana.

  “In this, I am none such,” said Wickham, his face now pinched with distaste. “The charming men who escorted us to this abode – they answer to someone with a great deal of authority in certain circles.”

  “Who is this authority?” asked Elizabeth. “And what could we have possibly done to have earned such treatment?”

  “That is rather the point, isn’t it?” said Wickham.

  Elizabeth observed that he had a gift for speaking without saying much at all.

  “You have both earned this experience simply by being persons of interest to the Earl of Matlock,” he continued.

  “Darcy?” said Elizabeth. “What’s he to do with any of this? I doubt very seriously he is acquainted with those men who brought us here.”

  “Your doubts are just,” answered Wickham. “His involvement is rather more oblique.”

  “If you have something to say, Wickham, speak it,” said Georgiana, clearly fed up with his equivocating.

  Wickham sighed with gusto. He appeared quite put upon.

  “That attitude will never suit you, Georgiana, if you wish to make a wife someday.”

  “You—” Georgiana lunged at him, but Wickham stepped quickly back away from her. Elizabeth caught her eye, shaking her head slowly. Whatever Wickham said or had yet to say, it would be better if Georgiana did not draw the attention of the man guarding the door. Whatever else would happen during their stay in this place, at least there was a locked door standing between them and the noisy, unsavory characters in the alley outside.

  Georgiana regained her composure and returned to her place against the wall.

  “I cannot win,” said Wickham with a sad smile. “No matter which way I turn, I lose ground every time.”

  “Enough with your riddles,” said Elizabeth. “Tell us what these men want with Matlock.”

  “Oh, that,” said Wickham, seeming surprised. “Money, of course.”

  “Why on earth should they expect money from him?” said Elizabeth, but she saw understanding dawn on Georgiana’s face.

  “I should have known,” said Georgiana. “I should have realized. Of course. You owe them money, and you’ve let them think my brother will satisfy your debts because of our connection.”

  “So succinctly put, darling,” said Wickham. “You’ve missed some details, but yes; that’s about the scope of it.”

  “That doesn’t explain why we’re here,” said Elizabeth. “Nor why you claim to be trapped here as well.”

  “Oh, isn’t it obvious?” asked Wickham.

  “If it were obvious, Mr. Wickham, I wouldn’t have asked.”

  “Of course,” he said demurely. “These men believe Matlock will address their grievances with greater alacrity if he has sufficient motivation to do so.”

  “Hence our assault and subsequent kidnapping,” said Georgiana, disgust written plainly across her young face.

  “Oh, come now, you were not harmed,” said Wickham.

  “And you are in here because…” Elizabeth prompted once more.

  “Ah, yes,” he said. “I am here because they will not let me leave, either, not until Matlock has saved us.”

  “You do not honestly think my brother will pay your debts again,” said Georgiana.

  “He has no choice,” said Wickham. For the first time that evening, Elizabeth heard a vestige of truth in his tone. “Fitzwilliam must pay, or all three of our lives are forfeit.”

  Elizabeth was appalled by the effrontery of this man; to speak with such familiarity of Darcy, while at the same time held in such vile contempt by his sister? It was unconscionable.

  As to his statement, Elizabeth rather thought Mr. Wickham suffered an overdeveloped opinion of his own value, and while she was not acquainted with his bursars, she suspected he likewise overstated the severity of the situation.

  Darcy would not appreciate the sentiment, thoug
h. If they had indeed contacted him, then she and Georgiana would likely not remain in this place long.

  Even as she had the thought, they heard voices near the door.

  “You will open this door at once!” came a forceful voice. It startled Georgiana, though Elizabeth did not recognize the speaker. They heard their doorman rattling the keys, stuttering as he tried to unlock the door.

  It finally swung open and the guard stumbled against it, staggering in his haste to let pass a woman in a very grand hat.

  “Lady Catherine!” cried Georgiana.

  So this was the person so adamant to see Darcy married. Elizabeth’s bravado – having held steady under the weight of a pretend-courtship, public scrutiny, and most recently kidnapping – at last began to waver.

  Lady Catherine de Bourgh was quite the vision, her grandeur elevated by the squalor of their surroundings. Having surveyed the room, her mouth twisted with distaste.

  “Georgiana,” she said tersely. “Are you alright? Have you been harmed?”

  “No, Lady Catherine.” Georgiana attempted to elaborate but her aunt nodded curtly and turned her attention to Elizabeth.

  “And you, I presume, are Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Hertfordshire,” said Lady Catherine.

  “I am, your ladyship,” she answered, making curtsy with all the formality she still possessed. The action felt out of place under the circumstances, but Elizabeth clung to the familiarity of decorum on the hope that it would strengthen her for what was yet to come.

  “But how can this be? How can you have found us here? Surely Mr. Wickham’s… associates did not contact you,” said Georgiana faintly.

  “Indeed not. When Miss Bennet presumed to align herself so closely to my only remaining nephew, I simply took the liberty of monitoring her actions. After following your captors here, the man I hired to follow her sent word immediately.” Lady Catherine lifted her chin. “Georgiana, my man will escort you to the carriage. I would have a word in private with Miss Elizabeth Bennet,” she said. The tone of her voice brooked no opposition. She looked at Elizabeth then and added, “If you would be so kind as to indulge me.”

  “Of course,” said Elizabeth faintly, aware that her acquiescence was not required.

  Georgiana spared not even a glance at George Wickham as she was handed into the carriage by Lady Catherine’s servant.

  “I say, Lady Catherine, perhaps you do not remember me,” said Wickham, finally finding his voice. He’d anticipated his liberation to come at the hands of Darcy; had she been inclined to sympathize with the man, Elizabeth might have understood his discomfort. As she was not inclined to feel any soft thing with regard to that man, she said nothing at all.

  “I know precisely who you are, George Wickham,” said Lady Catherine, unfettered disgust on her face. “You are the reason I have been called out to this godforsaken place in the middle of the night. I am likewise acquainted with the despicable behavior which has accumulated so great a debt that your lenders resort to kidnapping for ransom. Yes, George Wickham, I know who you are.”

  Wickham trembled visibly for an instant before he straightened and bowed.

  “Then I am your most humble servant, Lady Catherine,” he said, face to the ground. “I am in your debt.”

  “You most certainly are not,” said she. “I have paid the ransom required to free my niece. You are still responsible for the rest of the debt. Your debtor, that odious character calling himself Titan, of all things, is to follow me to extract payment himself. I suggest you see about getting his money.”

  Wickham’s face took on an unflattering shade of gray. He looked at Lady Catherine then to the open door behind her. Their errant guard had apparently decided he’d earned a break from his work, for the man was nowhere in sight.

  Without another word, Wickham sprinted from the room and out into the night.

  Lady Catherine turned her gaze back to Elizabeth.

  “Miss Elizabeth Bennet,” she said. “We meet at last. Fitzwilliam Darcy, the Earl of Matlock, is my nephew.”

  “Yes, your ladyship,” said Elizabeth. “Should we go? If that man, Titan, is supposed to arrive any moment as you said—”

  “He is not coming. That was strictly a ruse to be rid of Mr. Wickham as quickly as possible. I daresay if his creditors do not catch him this morning, the police certainly shall. No, Miss Bennet, the street lender will not come here tonight. Not unless I send for him.” She walked to the other side of the room, attempted to peer through the filthy, small window to the street and huffed.

  “As I have no desire to spend any further time in this wretched place, I shall be brief.” Lady Catherine folded her hands over her walking stick and lifted her chin. “I will pay the despicable Mr. Wickham’s remaining debt-ransom and have you freed if you agree to call off your ridiculous understanding with my nephew immediately.”

  Chapter 16

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “I will pay the ransom for which you are being held,” said Lady Catherine. “If you agree to end your engagement to Matlock this very moment.”

  “We have never met before this moment,” said Elizabeth, anger overtaking her incredulity with every breath. “Yet you would leave me in the hands of these men rather than see Darcy married to me?”

  “That is one way to view it,” Lady Catherine answered promptly. “It is not in his character to behave so rashly. I suppose his mind was clouded by grief. Fitzwilliam was always rather too sentimental.”

  “He said that you wished him to marry,” said Elizabeth. “You wrote him explicit instructions with regard to that fact.”

  “He told you that, did he? He misconstrued my words. My instructions were to visit me at once that we might arrange plans for an appropriate match. I informed him of his duty to uphold his family name, yes. Never did I imagine he would go to such lengths to thwart me.”

  “Perhaps he did not intend to thwart you,” said Elizabeth. “Perhaps he had his own plans to attend.”

  “Oh, now,” said Lady Catherine, her eyes glittering with anger. “That I believe too well. You think to have trapped him; you think to see yourself Countess and mistress of all that he’s to have.”

  “You know nothing of my character, nor of my intentions toward him,” said Elizabeth, anger heating her cheeks.

  “I know all I need to know,” said Lady Catherine. Her eyes narrowed venomously. “My offer stands. End your involvement with Matlock and I will pay the ransom at once. You will be free to go wherever you wish.”

  Elizabeth raised her chin, breathing deeply so that she might reign in her fury and frustration. The woman was intolerable, yet she offered a way out.

  Elizabeth had already been on the cusp of ending the arrangement when Darcy persuaded her to visit his sister in London. Even should she wish to bait Lady Catherine and her flagrant disapproval, there was still the matter of the threatening letters to contend with. The rest of England certainly contained more than a few unmarried ladies who would not weep should Elizabeth let him go free.

  “I would have your answer, Miss Bennet,” said Lady Catherine. Elizabeth heard the distinct note of inevitable triumph in the tone of the woman’s voice. “I have no desire to linger in this godforsaken place.”

  Elizabeth swallowed her pride and turned.

  “Yes,” she said, her stomach clenching.

  Lady Catherine wasted not a moment; she called for the servant, who entered almost immediately with writing supplies.

  “You will write to him directly,” said Lady Catherine. “I shall have Simmons summon a hack. When you have finished writing, I shall escort my niece away from here. Simmons will accompany to the destination of your choosing, after which I expect we shall never again encounter one another.” She strode to the door. “Goodbye, Miss Bennet.”

  Elizabeth did not speak as Lady Catherine was handed into her carriage. She sat instead upon the bed and taking the implements the man called Simmons had brought, she began to write.

  * * *
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br />   “I still wish you’d have sent for us straight away,” said Mrs. Gardiner the next morning. “I shudder to think what might have happened to you in that part of town. At least her ladyship sent the servant along.”

  “It was certainly the least she could do,” said Mr. Gardiner. For an otherwise genial sort of man, Lady Catherine’s callousness vexed him deeply.

  Elizabeth had arrived well after midnight but was otherwise not much the worse for wear. Her aunt and uncle had given the servants instructions to set her up in her usual room; Elizabeth had been forced to beg the footman who’d greeted her at the door not to wake them on her arrival, a fact which added to her uncle’s vexation. Mr. Gardiner had threatened twice already that morning to dismiss the poor man.

  “What I should like to know,” said Mrs. Gardiner before her husband could continue, “is how precisely this George Wickham came to be acquainted with the earl and Miss Darcy.”

  “I couldn’t say,” said Elizabeth. It was a point of curiosity to her as well, and one to which she resigned herself. “However, it is done. Whatever part I may have had in the scheme is done.”

  “I am so glad you came to us,” said her aunt. “And I am glad you have confided to us the true nature of your involvement with his lordship. I hate to see you so forlorn, Lizzy.”

  Mr. Gardiner agreed. “It’s not like you, not at all, my dear. We should do something; there must be something grand to cheer you up.” He looked at his wife.

  “Oh, yes,” she said. “Let’s do.”