by Jennifer Joy
"You need a surgeon and a change of clothes. Your coat is soaked in blood," she said, removing the linen and rinsing it in the basin on the table beside her.
There was no way in heaven or earth he could be convinced to stay behind when he was responsible for Georgiana's capture. His injuries could wait. "I know where to go. I need to take them," he said, stepping toward the door, reaching for it when his legs wobbled.
Mrs. Darcy appeared in the doorway, blocking his path. "Is there nothing we can say or do to convince you to allow the others to go on without you? If you tell them where to go, you would still be an immense help."
Agony tightened his throat, straining his words. "I have to. I have to see her."
Georgiana had been right about Nathan, and Michael had not acted quickly enough. Had he listened to her sooner, had he acted without delay, she would not be in danger now.
Nathan. He had tried to tell Michael in his own way. He always said people did not change. Not really. Michael had not wanted to believe him. But he did not know him at all, did he? Georgiana had never met Nathan, and she knew him better than Michael did.
Some barrister he was. He could not even discern the true character of his closest friend.
What a waste to devote himself to the aid of others when they did not want his help. Not really. Given his lack of judgment, he might defend a criminal in error and send a good man to prison!
Mrs. Darcy smiled at him.
Michael saw nothing to smile about.
"I see why Georgiana admires you," she said.
She might as well have stabbed him in the gut with a dagger. "She is too good for the likes of me. If she never forgives me, I would deserve her scorn."
Mrs. Tanner stepped into view. "Nonsense," she snapped. "Look at her family. We are proof in the power of love to lift the lowly and humble the haughty to make us equals."
They did not understand. Michael could not listen to their encouragement when he was undeserving of it. "Because of me, she is in danger. I did not listen when I should have. I placed my trust in the wrong person, and now she pays the price for my error."
Mrs. Darcy narrowed her eyes at him.
He did not shy away from her sharp look.
Finally, she said, "You will not save her by giving up now."
Her reply angered Michael. "I said nothing about giving up."
As quickly as her disapproval had flashed, her smile reappeared. "Good. You would not deserve her if you gave up too easily. Go, bring her home, then." She stepped to the side, clearing the doorway.
Michael did not comprehend the fluctuations of Mrs. Darcy's disposition, but he was grateful she had moved. It would have been awkward for everyone had he been forced to remove her from his path in her own house.
Mr. Darcy came storming down the stairs, followed by Mr. Tanner. They stopped when they saw Michael.
They strode to him, postures tense, fists clenched.
Michael widened his stance. He could not possibly hurt more than he did now. What was another strike from Georgiana's brothers? They were justified in their anger. They had trusted him, and he had lost their sister.
"We are ready. Can you ride?" Mr. Darcy asked.
Michael nodded a touch too eagerly in his relief. And, oh, how he regretted it. Stabs of lightning shot from the top of his head to the bottom of his spine. He leaned against the wall. "I will not be stopped," he said through gritted teeth.
Mr. Tanner and Mr. Darcy exchanged a look.
Michael had enough sense to know he needed their help. He stepped away from the wall. He would not give them reason to prevent him from accompanying them.
"Let us away," Mr. Tanner said, pulling on his gloves and kissing his wife.
Mr. Darcy had already crossed the hall to the door where a groom held the horses ready. He turned to Michael. "Where are we going?"
"To call on an old friend," Michael said, the words acidic on his tongue.
Chapter 26
Georgiana kicked and screamed, her shouts frustratingly muffled with the gag still tied around her mouth. A few times, her toes stubbed against something hard. She hoped it was Mr. Bradford. She wanted him to suffer. For his heart to break as hers did.
Hands gripped around her shoulders, and she lashed out with all her might until she was shoved forward. Unable to catch herself, she landed hard on her knees, momentum propelling her onward until her chin slammed against the ground.
But she was numb to it. She had more fight in her, and she would use every bit of her strength to make those evil men pay.
A door closed behind her with a resounding bang. Rolling onto her side, she gained her footing and moved toward the sound.
Something pulled at her from behind, and she fought it with all her might. Heat rose off her body and sweat dripped down her back.
"Georgie!"
She knew that voice, but it was not until she heard it again that Georgiana dared believe it was real.
"Georgie, calm yourself. You are hurt."
"Lydia?" Georgiana tried to ask, but it came out as a muffled garble.
Gentle hands touched the ties around her wrists, and Georgiana tried to stand still when soothing voices — ladies' voices — reassured her.
She did not know where she was, but she knew with whom she was. Miss Pringle was gone, and she was there to take her place. Their captors had already killed two. What was to prevent them from killing the rest?
Lydia pulled off the hood, and Georgiana blinked against the drab walls in the stark room. Next came the sash tied around her mouth.
She ought to speak, but what could she say? Michael was gone. His murderer was on the other side of the door. They would likely be next. Not exactly welcome tidings to the other ladies who had already endured so much cruelty.
Thankfully, Lydia chattered enough for the both of them, saying in a brief conclusion of her ordeal, "That is to say, I do not think the gentleman is in control at all. Our only hope is that you were followed. Oh, how romantic for Mr. Nelson to be your hero."
Georgiana cried out. He would have found her. He could have saved them.
The rope around her wrists finally gave and she sprang at the door. Clawing at the wood, her nails bit into the oak, her bruised and cut palms bleeding anew. She did not stop. She pounded and shouted, wanting Bradford to hear her.
He was worse than Wickham. And while she would forever regret being too weak to face Wickham, she would not repeat the same mistake with Bradford. She would tell him what he deserved to hear. She would make him know how disappointed Michael would be in him. How his betrayal had cost the life of his best friend — a man so far his superior, he had not deserved Michael's loyalty.
Lydia tried to pull her away, but Georgiana persisted.
"How could you? Michael loved you like a brother. He would not believe me when I suggested you were the one behind this. How could you betray him like this? He is dead because of you. You killed him. He believed in you. He defended you, and you betrayed him."
Her cheeks wet, her throat dry, and her arms heavy, Georgiana leaned her forehead against the door.
Two arms wrapped around her, pulling her into their warm embrace. Lydia.
"I had hoped never to see you in this dreadful place. I am so sorry, Georgie," she said, rubbing Georgiana's back and holding her. It was a sort of comfort, and Georgiana was not ungrateful. But they were not the arms she wanted to hold her closely. She would never know Michael's embrace.
He had died alone. She had not even told him how she felt. How ardently she loved him.
It would be her greatest regret for as long as she lived.
She buried her face in Lydia's hair and wept harder than she ever had.
Chapter 27
Michael knew where Nathan's warehouses were. One in particular, which he had been attempting to sell, was an empty building too close to the water to be useful for Nathan. Many times, Michael had heard him complain how the dampness damaged his goods. It was the perfect h
iding place. He ought to have thought of it before. How blind he had been.
Everything pointed to Nathan. His sudden departure. The timing — the date corresponding with the death of Nathan's father and Miss Gladden's treachery. The terms — a painful sum from the families who had wronged him for the loss of his family's fortune. The appearance of the man with a scar. Had Nathan hired him to kill Michael? He could no longer deny the possibility, though he still dreamed of hearing a reasonable explanation to justify Nathan's actions.
He silenced his wishful thinking and focused on what was real. The facts. A lady had been murdered. Kidnapping, extortion, threats, and murder could not be ignored nor the consequences to their originator diminished. Nathan knew that Michael, of all people, could not let such sins go unpunished. He knew. And he had proceeded anyway.
The men rode through the dense clouds to the waterfront. Michael's head throbbed and his eyes blurred, but anger — mostly at himself — held him upright.
He gripped his horse's mane. The thought of that rough man's hands on Georgiana was enough to light Michael's blood on fire.
Was this what had led Nathan to act against the families who had swindled his own father? Michael would not have believed it before now, but neither would he have believed himself capable of wishing to injure Nathan before now. He understood what bitterness was. It ate at him. Lord help him if Nathan crossed his path.
Mr. Darcy slowed. "You are unwell. Tell Tanner and I where to go, and you can see the surgeon."
Michael tapped the sides of his mount, urging the animal onward. Faster. "I have to help her. I have to see she is well and unharmed. I will never forgive myself…" He could not say it.
Mr. Darcy spoke so softly, Michael strained to hear him. "You love her."
"I do. More than I believed possible," Michael said.
"Then, we go together." Mr. Darcy's jaw tightened, and his lips pressed into a thin line. He was displeased.
And well he ought to be when Michael had been the one to lead danger to Georgiana. "I am sorry," Michael said over his shoulder when the street narrowed and they had to ride in a single line. It was so foggy, he could not see Mr. Tanner beyond Mr. Darcy.
Mr. Tanner's voice, however, carried well through the gloomy mist. "For what? Falling in love with our little sister?"
"For leading her into danger. This is all my doing. She tried to warn me. She knew — I do not know how she knew, but she did. She told me her reasons for suspecting Nathan. She told me about your father's business deal, but I did not want to believe it. I have known Nathan since we were in leading strings."
Michael did not know if the brothers heard him. Did it really matter? He urged his horse as fast as he dared travel over the slippery stones.
Mr. Darcy said, "There are few things worse than being betrayed by a childhood friend. Georgiana knows this all too well. I failed to protect her from such a man. I had not believed him capable of such treachery. Her reputation was salvaged, but her heart was broken by a man she had trusted. A man we had both trusted."
The path widened, and Mr. Darcy's horse trotted forward beside Michael's, slipping perilously over the stones.
Michael slowed his pace. Rushing would only lead to more injuries and greater delay. And they must not waste a moment.
As protective as Mr. Darcy was of his sister, Michael found it difficult to agree he had failed her. "I am certain you did your best."
"As you have done," he said.
"I do not flatter myself, Mr. Darcy. I could never measure up to you in a comparison. I am not good enough for her. Today is proof of it."
"That you recognize your faults and are willing to change is enough. If you love her, you will prove yourself worthy."
"People do not change," Michael mumbled bitterly.
"True. Some do not. Are you going to allow the failures of others to alter your purpose? To deny yourself of what you are most passionate? It would be an incredible waste to give up on your life's work and miss out on happiness with a young lady who shares your views."
But Michael had been wrong. He had failed. He was of no use at all.
Muffled shouts dampened by the blanket of moisture surrounded them, and Michael took care not to trample the vendors, servants, and street sweepers who could not afford to miss a day of work no matter how murky the weather was. Perhaps the fog would facilitate their rescue, but it would also provide cover for their foes. They needed to draw them out, to expose them. But how?
Mr. Tanner rode up beside him, trapping Michael between him and Mr. Darcy. He said, "The man who lifts up the abused and lends dignity to those society would rather ignore is the man Georgiana loves. Do not disappoint her."
It was a threat.
Michael looked over at Mr. Tanner. Locking eyes with him, the muscled gentleman added, "You break her heart, I break your knees."
Mr. Tanner was serious.
Michael swallowed hard and turned to watch where he was going, feeling Mr. Tanner's hard glare on him. But his intimidation only lasted until Michael grasped his full meaning. He could not break a heart that was not in his possession, which meant… Michael's breath caught in his throat.
Georgiana loved him.
Michael forgot how his head ached and his body hurt. He had to rein in his horse when it lunged into a canter and shied when a drunkard waving a bottle and singing Black-Eyed Susan at full tilt weaved in front of them.
She loved him.
But how could she? How could such a remarkable woman set her heart on a man like him? He had little to offer compared to what she was accustomed.
Michael was well aware he was accompanied by the two men least likely to want to answer his question, but he needed to know. They would be honest. "How can you be sure?" he asked.
Darcy looked across him at Tanner who clenched his jaw as if he had spoken quite enough already.
Finally, Darcy said, "Until she tells you herself, you will have to take our word for it."
Tanner added, "Just be grateful for your thick skull she will have the chance. To survive a hit like you took with only a cut…" he shook his head. Maybe in admiration?
"You have an admirably hard head," Tanner concluded.
Not the most flattering admiration, but it was not exactly an insult. "So I have been told a few times before," Michael admitted. He dried his face with his coat sleeve only to feel droplets of moisture run down his cheeks shortly thereafter. He could only see Darcy immediately in front of him and Tanner now behind.
Michael did not see the carriage blocking their path until they were upon it. They would need a carriage for the ladies.
Darcy led the way around, saying, "Your tenacity is remarkable. It seems to be a required quality in our family."
Their family? Darcy included him in his family? Darcy was too honest, too honorable to say anything other than what he meant. Michael did not know how to react. To be welcomed by a man he held in high esteem seemed too good to be true.
"I am stubborn," Michael said plainly. He was honest too.
Tanner considered. "Tenacity sounds more agreeable. That is the word we prefer to use amongst ourselves. You can use it too."
Michael could have burst with pride. Or was it happiness? He could not decide. Again, he had to rein in his horse.
Georgiana's family accepted him. They had seen him at his worst, and they included him. He was not alone. He was not so unworthy as he had believed himself to be.
Together, they would rescue Georgiana and the other ladies.
First, they needed a plan. They did not know what they would find at the warehouse, in what condition the kidnapped ladies would be, or how dangerous the men certain to be guarding their means for gain would be.
But Michael had an idea. Darcy and Tanner thought it was a good one. They agreed on what had to be done and were clear in their roles.
They parted ways. Tanner to the warehouse, Darcy to summon what law could be found, and Michael to the docks.
Chapter
28
Mr. Porter readied a crew of men.
At the sound of his piercing whistle, they gathered. No questions asked. Mr. Porter only said, "You gave me a chance to do better, Mr. Nelson. I am at your disposal."
No one disagreed with Mr. Porter. When Michael explained his plan and the danger they were certain to encounter, the few who left were replaced tenfold with compassionate volunteers willing to help. Or, more likely, they sought a bit of excitement. Michael was not so idealistic as to credit everyone with upright motives.
They wound their way through the streets. The air was heavy, like breathing water. Unable to see the path clearly, Michael counted the streets until they came to the empty warehouse. It was not far.
Darcy was there with a constable Michael recognized. He knew most of them.
"I sent a boy to fetch the nearest magistrate, and another constable is on his way," Darcy said.
"If they manage to find their way in this infernal fog," the constable added.
"Did Tanner secure a carriage?" Michael asked, dismounting from his horse.
Darcy looked up the street with a nod. "It is waiting further up on a side street to better avoid detection. If the ladies are not injured, we shall have no difficulty helping them to the conveyance. Perhaps one of these good men will tie your horse with the others on the back of the carriage? I wish to thank you for your assistance. I will ensure your employer rewards your courage. As will I when this is done."
It had surprised Michael to learn Mr. Gardiner was Mrs. Darcy's uncle, but now was not the time to mention the subject. Now was the time for action.
Michael examined the building. There were windows, but they were too high and narrow to be of any use. A door was on the side of the warehouse nearest them.
Pointing to the building, Darcy said, "There is another door on the opposite side. I only arrived a minute or two before you did, but I have not seen anyone leave or go inside."
Tanner joined them. "Nor have I. Our best option is to use the door closest to us. We are at a disadvantage not knowing who is inside and how they might defend themselves, but unless there is a regiment inside, we outnumber them with this mob."