A Scandal at Pemberley Read online

  ‘Surely, Kitty, we do not require quite so many to accompany us? And who is the gentleman bringing up the rear of our party?’

  Her friend smiled knowingly. ‘The maids and the footmen are coming to carry our purchases, Brownlow is there to sign the chits. No doubt we shall spend a prodigious amount of money today.’

  Chapter Nineteen

  When they arrived at Bond Street Georgiana was surprised to find the pavements already crowded with shoppers. ‘Good heavens! Why are there so many people here today?’

  ‘I have no notion, but the haberdashers we wish to visit is directly ahead. We can go in there and then send Brownlow to discover what all the fuss is about.’

  One of their footmen held open the door to the emporium and Georgina led the charge inside. She had not expected to see so many customers, but there was barely room to move.

  She was buffeted by an elderly matron in a startling turban, wielding a walking stick. ‘I do beg your pardon, madam, I hope I did not step on your toes,’ Georgiana said hastily, not liking the beady look she was being given.

  Immediately the matron’s face relaxed and she half-smiled. ‘Prettily said, my dear. It is a sad crush today, and no mistake. Believe me, if I had known that the Prince Regent was to parade down Bond Street I should have remained at home until tomorrow.’

  That explained the throng of people outside. ‘I had no idea the future king visited such a place as Bond Street. Is he expected soon, do you know?’

  ‘According to my maid, the Prince should be here very soon. You and your friends would be better served by remaining safely in this place, and not venturing outside again until he has gone.’

  ‘I think you might be right, ma’am. I shall pass this information onto my companions.’ Georgiana could see Kitty and her maid examining a stand of ribbons, but of Mary there was no sign. She was scanning the bobbing bonnets in the shop but then glanced out of the window and saw Mary and her maid outside. What were they doing out there? She waved and she was almost sure that Mary saw her, but then they moved off and were out of sight.

  ‘Ellie, tell Mrs King that Miss Bennet has gone off somewhere on her own and that I am going after her.’ Without waiting to see if the girl did as she was bid, Georgiana hurried to the exit. She looked for one of the footmen so he could accompany her, but they were not outside the door. They must be close by, and in this press of people she should be safe enough.

  There were carriages of all descriptions queueing in the street. She overheard a pedestrian say that the Prince had gone past and this had caused the jam of vehicles. There was no sign of either of the footmen – where on earth could the wretched men have gone? Then she saw the two of them standing a goodly distance away gawping after the future monarch.

  Botheration! She stood on tiptoes and could just see the top of Mary’s head, if she waited for the footmen to return she would lose her altogether. She had no option but to hurry after the girls without an escort and just pray that in the crowd, even if either of the Wickhams were here, they could not possibly pick her out.

  By keeping close to the shopfronts she was able to make steady progress and was certain she was gaining on her quarry. Then to her horror a tall, fair-haired gentleman appeared from a doorway and took Mary’s arm. She recognised him, even from this distance, as Mr Colby. Mary had made an assignation – how could she be so foolhardy? What if someone recognised her?

  As she watched the two of them disappeared and she increased her pace. They must have turned into Grafton Street and she knew that this led through Dover Street and into Albemarle Street where many gentlemen had their lodgings.

  She saw them as soon as she turned the corner – thank goodness the maid was within arm’s reach, and even though the two of them were talking earnestly nothing had yet occurred that could be detrimental to a young lady’s reputation. Mary was becoming agitated – something was not right.

  Georgiana was about to call out when the door of the carriage she was hurrying past opened, and before she could call out, she was dragged into it. An evil-smelling bag was dropped over her head and shoulders making it impossible for her to struggle or scream for help.

  *

  Lizzy thought Pemberley seemed empty now that her father had left for Longbourn. He had said that he could travel by public coach, but Fitzwilliam had insisted he take one of the Darcy carriages. After all he no longer had the one that he had been given when Jane and she had married last year.

  ‘I believe our children are having a boxing match, my love, I shall be black and blue inside before they make their appearance in this world.’

  He looked up from the journal he was perusing. ‘You are more than two thirds of the way through your pregnancy, sweetheart, before you know it the babies will be here and then you will be wishing them back inside again.’

  Lizzy snatched up a cushion and threw it at her husband’s head – her aim was poor – and it tore through the middle of his newspaper. His look of incredulity made her forget her momentary irritation at his callous disregard for her feelings.

  ‘What the devil are you about? I almost suffered from an apoplexy. Why are you throwing things at me?’ He tossed the mangled paper to one side and got to his feet.

  ‘I beg your pardon, Fitzwilliam, I don’t know what came over me. If you had the slightest understanding of what I have to endure, then perhaps you would not have made such a fatuous remark.’

  He dropped to his haunches beside her and took her hands in his, gently raising them to his lips and then kissing each knuckle in turn. ‘It is I who must apologise, darling, I spoke without thought. Whilst I am up, is there anything you would like me to fetch for you?’

  ‘Would you be kind enough to see if there has been any mail delivered? There could be a reply from London or possibly one of the girls might have written to me. I am feeling rather flat today…’

  His snort of laughter made her realise how silly her comment must have sounded and she reached for a second missile to throw at him. He raised his hands in surrender. ‘Mea culpa! Forgive me, I should not laugh…’

  ‘Indeed you should not, Mr Darcy, I believe my sense of humour disappeared at the same time as my toes.’

  Still chuckling he wandered off to see what, if anything, had been delivered. She smiled at her silliness. Jane had remained the same serene and sunny-natured person she had always been; it was only she who had turned into a termagant since she had been increasing.

  Fitzwilliam was taking an unconscionable time fetching the letters. Slowly she pushed herself upright and was in the process of swinging her feet to the floor when he appeared. She scarcely recognised the man standing in the doorway with an open letter in his hand. His face was grey and pinched, it was as if he had aged ten years.

  ‘What is it? Tell me at once what the letter says.’

  He was incapable of speech and walked swiftly across to her, tossed the missive in her lap, then collapsed on the end of the daybed and dropped his head into his hands.

  Darcy

  By the time you receive this letter your precious sister will be in my hands. Miss Bennet and Colby have made her abduction possible. Rawlings is going to marry Georgiana and there is nothing you can do about it.

  With Rawlings’ seed in her belly she will have no choice – Major Brownstone will be glad to be shot of her.

  I am not doing this for monetary gain but for revenge. I shall have destroyed the life of Georgiana Darcy, she will be as miserable as I in her marriage, and you can do nothing about it. It is too late for you to intervene – the damage is done.

  You will not find me. I leave for the continent tomorrow. However, you may inform your wife that if she wishes to collect her snivelling sister, then she is free to do so as I shall not be taking her with me.’

  A wave of dizziness made Lizzy’s head swim. Small wonder Fitzwilliam was incapable of speech. She read the letter a second time and her nausea receded. She clutched Fitzwilliam’s arm. ‘My love, this is not as ba
d as it might appear. Wickham has written you a letter, but it does not mean the contents are true.’

  He stirred beside her and slowly raised his head. His colour began to return and he looked more like the man she knew and loved. ‘Go on, Lizzy, I am listening.’

  ‘That monster could write anything he wished – we have no way of verifying the contents. You and Charles must go at once to London. I am sure you will find Georgiana safe and well in Grosvenor Square. I shall send word immediately to Sir John – he must come here and speak to me about his son. The boy has always seemed rather wild, but I cannot credit he would become involved in something so base.’

  ‘God’s teeth! Thank God I have you at my side to speak common sense. My wits were wandering, now I see things more clearly. Bingley and I will certainly go to London, and then with King’s help we will track down that bastard Wickham and deal with him once and for all.’

  He surged to his feet and without a second glance strode off shouting for attention. She heard him greeting Charles and then Jane was at her side. Lizzy handed her the letter but explained that she did not think it true. ‘Adam will have had Fitzwilliam’s letter warning him that Wickham and Lydia were in London – he would not have allowed Georgiana out without proper protection.’

  Jane nodded. ‘I agree, dearest Lizzy. Have you sent for Sir John to ask him what he thinks of this?’

  ‘I intend to do so now. Shall we bid our husbands a safe journey?’

  Within less than a quarter of an hour Fitzwilliam and Charles were ready to depart. They were not taking a valet with them, and had only a valise to carry.

  ‘Take care, my love, and do not do anything you might regret later.’

  ‘I shall do what is necessary, my love, and live with the consequences. I will send word by express as soon as I arrive – we must both pray your interpretation of this situation is the correct one. If anything has happened to Georgiana...’

  Lizzy could no longer embrace her husband as she had used to do as the bulk of her pregnancy intruded. She quickly turned sideways and reached out to touch his cheek. Immediately he covered her hand with his and tenderly kissed the palm. Then he drew her close and kissed her.

  ‘Promise me, my love, you will take care.’

  His eyes were hard, his expression uncompromising. ‘I will be careful, Lizzy, and I shall return with my sister safe and well.’ Without a further word being spoken he was gone with only the sound of the door closing to remind her of his departure.

  Sir John and Lady Rawlings arrived two hours later. One look at their demeanour was enough to make her heart sink. ‘Thank you for coming so promptly, I believe that you might know why I have asked you here.’

  Sir John was having difficulty controlling his emotions, Lady Rawlings delved into her reticule and produced a handkerchief to dab her eyes. ‘We do indeed, Mrs Darcy, and expected to find Mr Darcy here as well. This morning we had a letter from our son saying that he and Miss Darcy are to be married today. We knew this would be without your consent, the wretched boy must have obtained a special licence and eloped with her.’

  Lizzy closed her eyes and it was as if a large boulder had settled on her chest. She had given her husband false hope – their beloved Georgiana had indeed been abducted and it was already too late to save her from the most dreadful fate.

  *

  Jonathan left Horse Guards satisfied with the outcome of his visit. He had been given two weeks’ leave in order to get married and only then would have to return to his regiment. After that he would have no further opportunity to go home until Bonaparte had been defeated – God knows how many years that might be.

  However, he was beginning to have second thoughts about this hurried marriage – if he were to be killed – or even worse be maimed for life – then would this be fair to Georgiana? Surely it would be better, the gentlemanly thing to do, to break the engagement and leave her free to find happiness elsewhere?

  The thought of her in the arms of another man was like a dagger in his heart. But he loved her too much to drag her into the world of a professional soldier so would do the right thing. He would escort her to Pemberley and leave her in the care of her brother and then sever the relationship.

  He swallowed the lump in his throat and decided to go to his club and drown his sorrows. In his distress he failed to watch his way and collided with a stout gentleman and they both stepped into the road. He heard the warning shout and looked up to see a diligence approaching at a spanking trot. His instincts took over and he threw himself sideways taking the corpulent gentleman with him.

  He landed on the pavement, the crashing fall knocking the wind out of his lungs. He rolled to one side and turned to see how the other pedestrian had fared.

  ‘My word, that was a close one, and no mistake. I thank you, major, without your prompt action we would both have perished beneath the wheels of that cart.’

  ‘Are you unhurt, sir? Allow me to help you to your feet.’ Jonathan had recovered sufficiently to stand up and he leaned over to offer his hand. Another gentleman assisted and together they got the corpulent man upright.

  After a deal of backslapping and well-wishing he was eventually free to continue his journey, but his brush with death, caused by his own stupidity, had changed his mind. He no longer wished to get drunk, he would return to Grosvenor Square and spend every available moment at the side of the woman he was determined to step away from, however hard it might be for both of them.

  He arrived at the house to find pandemonium. Kitty was sobbing and Adam looked grim. There was no sign of either Georgiana or Mary.

  Chapter Twenty

  As the coach moved forward Georgiana lashed out with her booted feet and was delighted to make contact with something solid and her kick elicited a snarl of protest. She tried again, but the response this time was for somebody’s rough hands to grab her legs and these too were stuffed into a bag of some sort.

  A glimmer of light filtered through the material over her head, if she could steady her breathing and blink the dust from her mind she might be able to see who was travelling in the vehicle with her. Whoever it was had not spoken and this made the situation even more unpleasant – if that were possible.

  Her heart was hammering and she could scarcely catch her breath. Cold perspiration trickled down her neck and she bit her lip to stop a whimper. If she was to escape from this abduction unscathed she must remain calm and be ready to take any opportunity that might arise.

  The carriage was picking up speed and she was flung against the window. The sharp pain as her shoulder connected with the wooden frame cleared her head. She heard the coachman crack his whip and shout at his team.

  They couldn’t be going back onto Bond Street for the road was congested; they must be travelling along Dover Street and would then turn into Piccadilly. Her knowledge of the streets of London faltered at this point, but she was fairly sure Chelsea was to the west, as was Green Park and St Martin-in-the-Fields. These areas were less populated, Wickham might have rented a house out there and this could be where she was being taken.

  She had no doubt in her mind it was Wickham who had orchestrated this kidnapping. He had said he would get his revenge on her and Jonathan, and destroying her good name would be the perfect way to do it. Fitzwilliam would suffer too; he would blame himself for not being in London to protect her.

  From the noxious odour drifting from the other side of the carriage, she was certain it was not Wickham who had done the actual abduction. There was only one person in the vehicle but she had no idea how many might be outside on the box.

  If she lay quietly he might think she had swooned and would not pay her so much attention. The carriage was not travelling fast, presumably because the coachman did not wish to attract unwanted attention, if she could only wriggle free from the bags she was enveloped in she might be able to roll from the carriage without injuring herself.

  Unfortunately there was no opportunity as her journey ended far sooner than s
he’d anticipated. The vehicle slowed and then veered sharply left and rattled and bumped over uneven cobbles before it rocked to a standstill. There was little point in pretending she was asleep or unconscious as her captor prodded her sharply in the leg.

  ‘I don’t want no nonsense, I ain’t got no time for the likes of you. Keep your mouth shut, missy, if you know what’s good for you.’ The voice matched the smell.

  She mumbled her agreement and he appeared satisfied as he released the restriction around her legs and removed the sack from her head and shoulders. It was imperative that she heard and saw as much of her surroundings as possible – this information might be invaluable if she got the opportunity to flee.

  The villain who had abducted her looked as repellent as he smelt and sounded. It took all of her courage not to shrink back into the corner and remain there. He pointed to the open door and she had no option but to scramble past him and blink into the sunlight.

  She dare not make a point of looking around, she stood as if docile with her head lowered but her eyes were darting about. Before she was rudely pushed in the small of her back and told to get a move on she was able to discern the carriage was in a stable yard at the rear of a substantial, if dilapidated, old building. It was obvious she was no longer in the city, but somewhere on the outskirts, but not quite in the countryside.

  She stumbled forward and made her way towards the open back door. She lifted her skirt in order to avoid tripping as she stepped over the threshold. This chamber was the kitchen, but not like any she had ever seen. There was no smart black range, merely an open fire above which trivets were suspended. There was no more than a moment to look round before she was bundled across the room and into the dark and dismal-smelling passageway.

  ‘Get a move on, ain’t got all day. You ain’t the only one we got to nab today.’