by Jennifer Joy
Lydia recognized the name. She studied the peerage so she might put herself in a better position to befriend those associated with a single gentleman with a title. She would bet her entire collection of fripperies that Lady Eleanor had an older brother. Lord Kendall, if her memory served. Was he single?
Lord Kendall. He had a title.
The knowledge infused Lydia with hope. She had proclaimed that if she ever was kidnapped, she would make the most of it. And if she was to be trapped in a room with a peer, she was determined to use it to her favor … should Lady Eleanor's brother prove to be unmarried.
While Lady Eleanor politely introduced everyone, Lydia took note of every discernible feature in the room. It was a large square with drab walls that had not been whitewashed in years. Or were they shadows? She could not be certain. Did the darkness conceal cobwebs? Lydia loathed spiders. Unless one were to land on Miss Pringle.
A narrow window ran the length of the farthest wall, but even the tallest lady present could not lift her up to its height, nor was Lydia convinced she could squeeze through the narrow opening. She had grown pleasingly plump over the years (unlike Miss Pringle who was still as flat as a plank). And then there was the drop on the other side. Lydia was not in a hurry to break her pretty neck before she had a chance to meet Lady Eleanor's brother. If he looked at all like her, he would be striking. Tall, dark, handsome, and … Lydia squinted in the dark … judging from the quality of her gown … rich!
It was an abomination Lady Eleanor would have to sit on the floor in such finery. Not one piece of furniture graced the wooden floor. Not even a chamber pot. How dreadfully inconvenient.
Voices from the other side of the door drifted into the room, and Lydia ran to listen, pressing her ear against the thick wood.
The ladies behind her gasped, whispering, "Do not go there! You will be caught!" and all manner of useless warnings that made eavesdropping more difficult.
Lydia put her finger over her lips to shush them. Really! How did they expect her to hear anything over their hissing?
She recognized the gravelly voice of her kidnapper, but there were two other voices. One had a rough, heavy accent. A sailor, perhaps?
The other voice was refined, like that of a gentleman. She pressed her ear more firmly against the door and held her breath.
"You will deliver the ransom notes at calling hours this afternoon," said the gentleman. He was in charge. He gave the orders.
The sailor said, "You can count on me, boss. Me and Ivan, we—"
He quit speaking. A smack followed by a rustle proceeded the gravelly voice of her captor. "They know enough without you blabbing our names, you halfwit! Control your tongue or I will cut it out of your mouth."
Ivan. Her kidnapper's name was Ivan. And he liked to make threats.
Who was the gentleman?
The voices became impossible to hear as they walked away until Lydia only heard the sound of her own breath. One can only hold it so long, you know.
If the ransom notes were to be delivered that same day, Lydia did not have much time.
Turning back to the ladies, she glanced over them until her eyes settled on Lady Eleanor. "I would love to hear about your family. Do you have any brothers?"
Chapter 13
Michael would have dammed the Thames if it dried Miss Darcy's tears. His arms had felt empty and useless as he watched Mr. Darcy comfort his wife. He wanted to ease Miss Darcy's troubles, but even in dire circumstances, kindness must yield to propriety. To act otherwise would be insulting to the lady and her family.
If Miss Darcy blamed herself — guilt was written across her face — then why should he not share her burden? He had played a role, no matter how small, in altering her happiness, and he would stop at nothing until he had set matters right. He would find Miss Bennet, return her to her family, and then he would stay away from the Darcys for good.
How easily he had justified their lengthy exchange. He had acted selfishly, and now the Darcys paid for his indulgence. A harsh view, Nathan would have told him, but Michael felt it all the same.
As he walked down the street, he paused at the spot where he had first seen the man with the scar. Was he connected to Miss Bennet's disappearance somehow?
Michael pressed on. He was exhausted, but time was of the essence. He had to begin gathering information immediately.
The street sweeper near his apartment had a sister who worked at a big house. He was a valuable source of information, having a good ear and an observant nature. It was still too soon to have heard anything of value, but the boy promised he would make discreet inquiries.
From there, Michael walked to his apartment. If he was to be of any use to anyone, he needed to rest. Details usually became clearer after a few minutes of slumber.
He slowed his pace when he saw a gentleman pacing the street in front of his apartment.
The gentleman was dressed smartly without crossing the line distinguishing him as a fop. He reminded Michael of his pressing need to go to his tailor's — an event which would have to be put off yet again.
Checking his timepiece, the gentleman looked up and down the street. Watching. Waiting.
Michael was close enough now to recognize the man. It was Lord Kendall. They had met some time ago through mutual acquaintances at his chambers.
Kendall rushed toward Michael when he saw him. "I apologize for the early hour, Nelson. I could not wait to contact you through my solicitor."
The hair on Michael's arms stood on end; bone-chilling alarm spread over his body. "What has happened?" he asked.
"My sister, Eleanor, did not return home from the soiree she attended last night."
Georgiana attempted to rest, but sleep would not come.
Poor Chloe whimpered and whined in her room.
She doubted anyone else in the household was getting any rest either. William had already sent for his man to assist them in making inquiries.
When Georgiana heard footsteps in the hall, she got up to see the butler on his way to William's study. He announced two visitors: Mr. Nelson and Lord Kendall.
Tiptoeing down the hall, Georgiana overheard William request that the gentlemen be sent up to his study. Any call from Mr. Nelson was an important one. He was to be admitted without delay.
Waiting until the butler had walked past her to the stairs, Georgiana slipped into William's study. "Please allow me to help," she said. "Lydia is my dearest friend."
He sighed and massaged his temples, no doubt too exhausted to utter a word.
"Allow me to ring for coffee and a repast. You have not eaten, and I suspect your callers have not either." She reached for the bell, anxious to make herself useful lest William ask her to leave.
William smiled at her. "Thank you, Georgie. That is thoughtful of you."
She sat beside William near the fire, arranging the table between the chairs for the tray soon to come.
When Mr. Nelson entered the room and Georgiana saw the dark circles rimming his eyes, she was glad she had sent for coffee.
After a brief exchange, in which Lord Kendall and William exchanged compressed pleasantries, Mr. Nelson explained the reason for his call. "Lady Eleanor did not return home last night, and Kendall came to me for assistance directly. It struck me as odd that two ladies should go missing the same evening."
Lord Kendall added, "I insisted on accompanying Nelson. It is too great a coincidence to overlook, and I am deeply sorry your family has been affected as I have, Darcy."
Lydia would have been in raptures with the presence of the handsome marquess. He had the dark, wavy hair Lydia seemed to favor as well as the side whiskers that extended down to the bottom of his jaw. He was wealthy, titled, and, more importantly, unmarried.
Georgiana's eyes burned again, and she blinked excessively to control herself. She would be of no use to her friend if she allowed emotion to cloud her judgment.
Lord Kendall tugged on his side whiskers. "My sister always returns home before midn
ight. She would never do something so foolish as elope. She has not sought to marry, being wealthy in her own right and convinced she does not need a man in her life to be happy. I am left to conclude she has been kidnapped."
William asked, "It might be too soon to know if other families have been affected. Have you heard of any other kidnappings? Could they be connected?"
Michael shook his head. "If there are more, the families are keeping quiet about them. They would want to avoid scandal after what happened to Miss Morton. She is still the talk of the ton."
"But what is the connection to Miss Bennet?" Georgiana asked.
Michael said, "As yet, the only thing she and Lady Eleanor have in common is their disappearance on the same night. It is possible they are connected, though unlikely. However, given the urgency of this matter, it is imperative we not overlook any possibility no matter how remote."
The marquess' sister was wealthy, from a well-respected family in the highest circles. Outside of her connections from finishing school, Lydia was not well-known in town, and she had a pittance of a dowry.
Georgiana was not entirely certain Lydia had been kidnapped. On one hand, she was hardly a likely target. However, not to be ignored were all of Lydia's dramatic speeches about being shelved at the age of one and twenty. Georgiana did not want to believe Lydia capable of acting out of despair, but she was impulsive.
Lord Kendall shook his head. "Perhaps there is nothing to it. When Nelson told me your sister had disappeared, my first thought was for Miss Darcy. It seemed likely one would lead to the other, and I hardly know how to express my relief to see Miss Darcy safe when Miss Bennet's disappearance is equally distressing. She is Mrs. Darcy's sister, is she not? I do not believe I have had the pleasure."
"You would not soon forget Miss Bennet had you met her," said William.
A truer statement about Lydia could not have been made.
The maid brought a tray laden with ham, cheese, and thick black coffee. Chloe sneaked into the study behind her, taking advantage of the open door to follow the delightful scents emanating from the tray.
But she did not sit with her eyes fixed on the ham, tongue hanging out. She looked around, searching, sniffing.
When she did not find Lydia, Chloe's ears drooped and her demeanor became so melancholy not even William had the heart to order her away.
For some reason only Chloe knew, she chose to approach Lord Kendall. Sitting beside him, she rested her muzzle on his leg and looked up at him with sad, puppy eyes.
"And who is this young lady?" he asked as if the dog could answer him.
Georgiana apologized, standing as she reached forward to hand Lord Kendall the cup of coffee she had poured. Just because she and William did not mind Chloe's company did not mean Lord Kendall approved. "I will take her to my room."
"Nonsense. She is an intelligent dog. She knows something is wrong. I understand her melancholy to mean Miss Bennet is her mistress?"
"Her name is Chloe, and she has been Miss Bennet's most loyal companion nearly six years. Miss Bennet would never leave her behind unless she was forced away." As she said it, Georgiana realized it was true. No degree of desperation would move Lydia to depart without her beloved pet. Not even a gentleman with a title.
She sat down again, the gentlemen around the table stirring sugar into their coffee cups. Her stomach groaned, but she had no appetite. Where was Lydia? Was she hurt? Would they find her? Oh, they had to!
Lord Kendall smoothed Chloe's tuft of unruly hair and reassured her he would help find Miss Bennet. He made a friend for life when he offered Chloe a small piece of ham from the tray.
Georgiana sipped her coffee, drinking it strong and black in the hopes it would awaken all of her senses. She needed to help. To do something.
William addressed Mr. Nelson. "You are highly recommended for your ability to find people. Can you find Lady Eleanor and Miss Bennet? Can you keep us informed on both disappearances? I will do what I can to find them as I am certain Kendall will. My man is at your disposal should you require him, as am I."
Mr. Nelson set down his cup. He had drained its contents already. "I will stop at nothing to find them."
Georgiana believed him.
"How can we help?" she asked, filling his cup with more of the awakening elixir.
Elizabeth entered the study. Her eyes were swollen but bright. She must have heard Georgiana's plea, for she added, "Yes, allow us to help you find my sister. Tell us what to do."
Chapter 14
Michael returned home. He needed to rest.
Perhaps his exhaustion had been to blame for upsetting Miss Darcy and Mrs. Darcy, but he could not think of a better reply. It disturbed him greatly to have added to the distress of the ladies of the house.
"The greatest help you can give is by remaining safe and out of harm's way," he had said.
Even now, he could not find fault in his reply. He would not forgive himself were another member of the Darcy family to put herself in peril. Better him than them. Nobody would miss him. Only Nathan. Or perhaps the families he had assisted, but Michael did not flatter himself that they considered him a friend. Too many of them wished to forget their troubles, and his presence too often reminded them of their brush with ruin. He saw the shame in their faces. They knew he knew their worst mistakes and indiscretions.
But the Darcys were different. Or, at least, Michael wished them to be.
While Mr. Darcy had seemed to agree with him, it had been apparent from Miss Darcy's reaction that she did not. Her chin had set in defiance, and her eyes had sparked in a manner contrary to her apparently calm demeanor.
He was quickly learning there was far more to Miss Darcy than met the eye.
Georgiana unclenched her fists and relaxed her sore jaw. She tried to distract her mind, but she tensed every time she remembered Mr. Nelson's reply. How could he expect her to wait in the comfort of her home when she did not know where Lydia was? While her imagination conjured up the worst scenarios of fright and suffering? She trusted the gentlemen to be thorough in their inquiries, but did not more hands make for lighter work? Anything to bring Lydia home safely.
The children played in the nursery with Chloe while William, Elizabeth, and Georgiana remained in the study. One by one, her brother interviewed servants, asking if they had observed anything at all worth noting to help them in their search. Each of them was instructed to keep a watchful eye as they went about their duties and report to him immediately if they came across any useful information.
Hours later, as the last chambermaid left the study, Darcy dropped his head into his hands. "Nobody knows anything."
Quietly, Elizabeth added, "Which tells us Lydia is, indeed, in danger. She would have been too excited not to share the details of an elopement. She cannot keep a secret to save her life."
That was not entirely true, Georgiana thought. Lydia had kept her secret well enough. The temptation to reveal the whole of it to William and Elizabeth at that moment was tempting, but the timing was entirely inappropriate. All of their attention must be on Lydia. Georgiana would unburden herself and clear her conscience later. She had waited years already. What were a few more days?
William pulled Elizabeth, chair and all, closer to him. "We will find her," he said.
She narrowed her eyes. "You will let me help. Georgiana, too."
He clasped her hands, pulling her into his lap. "Unlike Mr. Nelson, I know better than to exclude you."
Georgiana's fists clenched again.
Elizabeth grimaced. "That was a most unfortunate remark. Clearly, he does not have the advantage of sisters or the influence of a woman in his life or else he would have known better than to refuse our need to help."
William chuckled. "Was I so ignorant when we first met?"
"Worse!" Elizabeth said with a laugh.
Georgiana relaxed. It was true. It had taken months of Elizabeth's influence before William had allowed Georgiana any freedom at all. How different he had be
en then. He had softened his sharper edges as Elizabeth showed him how to love.
William rubbed his hand over his face. "I only remember that the more I tried to keep you safe, the harder you fought against me. You seemed to take my every exertion toward your security as a challenge to endanger yourself. You nearly drove me mad." His eyes flickered to Georgiana, and he added with a sigh, "Unfortunately, I suspect you are no different from my daring wife, Georgie."
Georgiana could not deny it. The fire burning in her veins wanted to prove Mr. Nelson wrong. What kind of friend did he think she was? A friend in need was a friend in deed, not merely in words and good intentions. A man of action such as Mr. Nelson ought to know that.
William continued, "I know better than to prevent you from helping, but I do hope you will exercise greater caution than we have in the past. Acting on emotion only clouds judgment and leads to poor decisions."
Georgiana grumbled inwardly. It had been years since she had acted on any emotion at all. Not since Wickham. What made William think she would begin now?
Elizabeth smoothed his hair. "But that is where you are wrong, my love. If no emotion is involved, we are only shells of ourselves. The passion we feel is what moves us to do what we would not otherwise have been brave enough to do."
"Your point is valid, but I can neither dispute it nor agree with it. I would not change you for the world, but I do not want to see Georgiana hurt again," he said.
"Nor do I, but there are some things for which it is worth taking a risk. We both know how great a risk I was to you, and yet we are happier in our union with each passing year. Do not counsel your own sister to live dispassionately."
Their conversation had gone beyond finding Lydia, and it made Georgiana uncomfortable. "I fail to see how discussing my cautious nature will help us find Lydia."