Mr. Darcy's Little Sister (17 page)

“Do we have any idea who might have done this and why?”

Lord Whitwell said dryly, “Is her fortune not enough to explain the why? There are very few young ladies even among the nobility who possess such a rich dowry.”

“Yes, but there are several possibilities which we must consider, and they each require a different course of action. The first, and most obvious, possibility is that Georgiana was abducted to extort a ransom from my cousin. The neatness of her capture in the park—away from the Darcy household, most of whom would have given their lives to protect her—suggests a familiarity with the family and the household routines which a complete outsider would be unlikely to have. Georgiana is not a person whose life is scheduled during every moment of the day, and this confrontation in the park was obviously well planned; it was not an impulsive crime. If this is the case we will soon be receiving a random demand.

“The second possibility, which I place somewhat higher than the first, is abduction to force her to marry someone so he can obtain her dowry. This person would have to have information on Georgiana’s fortune, but such information is easily obtained; everyone in the upper levels of society knows her net worth to the penny, I have no doubt. The fact that Mrs. Annesley was not also injured and left behind would tend to support the idea of a forced marriage if the perpetrator of this crime is a member of the gentry or nobility who wants her money desperately but also wishes to keep his place in society. He will keep Georgiana with her chaperone to try to minimize the damage to her reputation and, thus, our motivation to seek revenge.

“The first thing we should do is send riders to Gretna Green. They will not be able to force her into a quick marriage in England but would have no difficulty finding someone happy to marry a clearly unwilling bride across the border in Scotland. In both cases, the villain is counting upon our desire to avoid a scandal to force us to keep quiet once the deed is done. There may be other possibilities which will come to us later, so keep your minds open to other ideas.

“I am going back to the officer’s mess now. I have a couple of men whose discretion I know I can rely upon. I will send them posthaste to Scotland to try to cut the kidnappers off if they headed that way. Did the injured footman know at what time they were attacked?” He looked at Elizabeth.

“He was light-headed and confused so I do not know how reliable his testimony is, but he thought that they had been in the park about one hour, which would put it at around four o’clock. They had reached the Serpentine and were returning when it happened. He said that dusk was falling, but they could still see clearly.”

“I am assuming that this man’s history would suggest he is trustworthy?”

Burton cleared his throat and spoke up, “Yes, sir, I am quite confident he is not involved in this, except as a victim. He has served at Pemberley for about fifteen years and this is his first trip to London in that time. We brought him because we needed a larger household staff during Miss Darcy’s Season. He is very upset and trying to insist on going out with the others to search for her.”

Elizabeth surreptitiously wiped the tears welling in her eyes.

Both gentlemen were immediately on their feet, offering her their handkerchiefs. She gave them a weak smile. “Thank you, both of you. If you don’t mind I will accept both handkerchiefs. I think I may need them.”

She sat up and tried to control her tears. “Is there nothing else we can do, Colonel? It is unbearable to just sit and wait.”

He gave her a sad smile. “I wish I could think of more. I am not good at sitting and waiting for others to do the work either, but a few trustworthy men can be more discreet than I can running madly about on my own. If I suddenly disappeared it would be all over the court, and it is possible that our kidnapper may be a member of the
ton
.

Elizabeth had been staring at her hands, clasped tightly in her lap, while he had been speaking; but she now looked up. “Do you think that this could be related to my husband’s reasons for travelling to the Continent?”

Fitzwilliam paused and thought. “I have no reason to believe that his business there involves more than the one person he is meeting, so I do not think so, but I really do not know. I think we should keep it in mind. I have also considered the possibility that this is related to my own activities in some way, although I do not have any specific suspicions. It would be of great benefit to an assassin to have me distracted from my duty to the Prince Regent by concern for my cousin.”

Elizabeth, staring at her clenched hands, said softly, “And what should I tell the servants? It is obviously impossible to prevent all of them from knowing the entire story, thus far.”

The colonel considered. “If you would like, I will return to Ashbourne House with you and Burton. Most of Darcy’s servants have been with the family for many years and I hope with the efforts of myself, Burton, and Mrs. Burton we can limit how much of this spreads outside of the house.”

“I would be most grateful if you would, Colonel. I do not feel at all capable of dealing with this on my own.”

Lord Whitwell interjected, “And there is no reason that you should be required to, my dear lady, when you have a family to assist you.”

The colonel offered her his arm and they left for Ashbourne House immediately.

***

As the pale light of dawn gradually lessened the darkness in their room, Georgiana awoke from a brief and troubled sleep with a start. She felt the warmth of Mrs. Annesley stir next to her and she was grateful not to be alone.

“Are you awake, Georgiana my dear?”

“Yes.”

“Did you sleep at all?”

“Very little, but I did drift off for a bit.”

Soon they could hear stirring in the house, and the old woman, who did not seem to speak, silently brought in a ewer of water and a towel. They tried to wash and make themselves as presentable as possible with only cold water, but it was difficult. Mrs. Annesley tried to smooth her charge’s hair with her fingers and repin it neatly, but Georgiana was sure she looked a fright in her rumpled gown and flattened curls.

“I hope Mr. Walker was not too uncomfortable last night.”

Mrs. Annesley nodded, her lips occupied with holding her hairpins while she tried to redo her own hair. Finally she patted the resulting chignon.

“I suppose that is the best I can do under the circumstances. I also hope that Mr. Walker is safe. He probably had a sore head to keep him awake.”

They suddenly heard the key in the lock, and Walker was pushed roughly into the room before the old woman brought them another tray of food. Apparently, they were to have their meals together.

After the door was locked again, Mrs. Annesley said softly, “I hope that your night was not too uncomfortable, Mr. Walker.”

“I had a bed to lie on and my head stopped throbbing after a while. I cannot complain, except to chastise myself for my ineptitude at rescuing you, Miss Darcy. I should have gone to your uncle or to your cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam.”

Georgiana gave him a tremulous smile. “Do not be stupid, Mr. Walker. If you had, you would not have known where to take them. We are both most grateful for your efforts, and, truthfully, your presence increases my hope that we will escape this peril safely.”

He smiled at her and bowed. “I thank you for your confidence in me, Miss Darcy. I have hopes that I can find some way to escape my dungeon, and my first task is to try to convince our gaolers to take off my shackles. They must know that I cannot escape—they have kept me in the cellar where there is only a tiny grate to admit light, not large enough for a body to go through. If I can get loose I must creep up the stairs and go out the door or through an unbarred window, if there is one.”

“I will pray for your success, Mr. Walker.”

“Thank you, Miss Darcy.” He smiled warmly at her, and she flushed and looked down at her hands.

“Perhaps if you ladies could lend me a hairpin, I could fashion a picklock of some sort to open the shackles. I cannot say that I have any previous training in such, but I will have plenty of hours to work on them.”

Georgiana smiled eagerly. “Yes, of course. Mrs. Annesley, could you find a pin in my hair that we could remove without all of it falling down?”

“I am sure you could spare one.”

Mrs. Annesley found a pin and was going to hand it to Mr. Walker when they heard the key in the lock again. She quickly put the pin in his hand and sat down next to Georgiana and looked towards the door. The taller of their captors stuck his head in and bared his rotting teeth in a feral grin.

“Well, young sir, it is time for you to retire to your quarters. I hopes you found them comfortable last night?”

“Quite luxurious, thank you, my good man,” Walker said calmly as he walked to the door, the hairpin concealed in his palm.

The rest of the day, Georgiana fidgeted around the room, hoping to hear some sound that would tell her that Mr. Walker had been able to escape, but the farmhouse was silent. She wondered if the kidnappers were gone during the day. It seemed unlikely that they could keep such silence if they were present.

As the light began to fade in the afternoon, she received the answer to her questions when she heard someone moving about the front room, and their companion was returned to them for the evening meal; another dish of porridge and some more, increasingly stale, bread. Her heart plummeted when he appeared, but she hid her disappointment and commented dryly, “The cook’s repertoire of dishes seems rather limited, does it not? Perhaps we should see if she could take some lessons from our cook.”

Walker laughed, almost choking on the lumpy porridge he was eating. “Miss Darcy, you will be the death of me! I hope that I can keep my wit functioning as well as you do under these circumstances; your courage is an inspiration to me.”

Georgiana flushed a deep red and concentrated on her food. “I do not think that I am particularly brave. I feel as if my throat is closing tighter with each moment.”

Walker smiled and said, “Miss Darcy?”

She glanced up briefly.

“You are one of the bravest people I know.”

He reached out and took her hand. When she looked up again he raised her hand to his lips, the shackles making his movements awkward. Mrs. Annesley cleared her throat and he dropped Georgiana’s hand and turned to her.

“Mr. Walker, do you think that there is any chance that you may be able to escape?”

“I have not yet had the opportunity to tell you my news. Our friends have moved me upstairs—I think they were tired of coming down to get me—so there may be a chance of removing one of the shutters if I can get these leg irons loose. I could probably steal one of their horses with my arms shackled, but I would have difficulty with my legs bound.”

Georgiana smiled to herself.

Walker was quick to see her expression.

“And what are you smiling about?”

She paused, embarrassed. “I was just thinking that a woman would not have that problem since we must always ride sidesaddle.” Her voice trailed off.

Mrs. Annesley asked, “Do you think that they have sent a ransom demand to Mrs. Darcy?”

“I do not know. I haven’t heard a sound all day.”

The sound of the key was at the door again, and the shorter kidnapper ordered Walker roughly out of the room. Georgiana heard the key grate in the lock of the nearby room where Walker was now being held. She sighed, obscurely reassured again by the knowledge that a friend was near, even if he was also a prisoner. The two ladies retired early again as they were still left without candle or fire to see by.

***

At Ashbourne House, Elizabeth had paced her bedroom most of the night of Georgiana’s disappearance, until exhaustion forced her to recline on her settee and she had dozed off for an hour or so.

She was up early and fidgeted nervously about her sitting-room, trying to keep a calm countenance for the sake of the servants, without much success. The colonel finally called at nine o’clock while she was toying with her food in the breakfast-parlour. She jumped to her feet when he entered, but sank back while the footman quickly set him a place at the table. When they were finally alone, the colonel looked into her eyes and she saw that, in spite of his outwards calm, his eyes were dark and furious and his teeth were clenched so tightly that his jaw muscles stood out. After a moment’s struggle, he controlled himself and said, very quietly, “I sent two men to Scotland last night. We will, hopefully, hear something definite from them soon. This morning I would like to take the injured footman with me and go over the ground that they covered in the park to see if I can find any sign of the passage of their abductors.”

Elizabeth nodded silently, her throat dry and aching with the tears she held back. He saw her hands clenched on her handkerchief and said kindly, “Pray try to keep your spirits up, Mrs. Darcy… Elizabeth. We will find Georgiana, and her abductors will pay for their crimes.”

Tears began to flow in earnest from Elizabeth’s eyes.

“I just hope Georgiana need not pay also.”

His lips compressed.

“I also hope that her life is not blighted by the actions of these men. We will do what we can for her. All I can think about is the satisfaction I would receive from running these men through for her sake. A pistol would not be nearly as satisfying a way to punish them.”

“We must find them first.”

“Indeed.”

The colonel gulped down a cup of coffee and rose, bowing perfunctorily to her before he left to find John, the footman who had accompanied the two ladies to the park.

Oh what a tangled web we weave,

When first we practise to deceive!

—Sir Walter Scott,
Marmion

After three days of captivity, Georgiana awoke before dawn from another troubled sleep. They had seen Mr. Walker for short periods at each of the two meals they were served daily, and as she lay quietly, trying not to disturb Mrs. Annesley, she wondered now that their captors had allowed them to know that Walker was also a prisoner. She also wondered that she had not seen before how curious this was. Surely it would have been better, whatever their plans were, to deny their prisoners the knowledge that someone had already found them, even though his rescue had been unsuccessful. If I were a kidnapper, she thought, I would be very nervous that someone had found my location. What guarantee was there that Mr. Walker had not sent a friend or servant for help before trailing their carriage? Would it not be sensible to move their prisoners to another location? It might be difficult to set up another secure house, but surely it would be worth a great deal to make sure that their hostages would not be rescued.

Their self-assurance bothered her obscurely, but she could not find an explanation, so she determined to put those thoughts away for the moment. She did not want to think about her family, frantic with worry for her sake, searching vainly for her, so she blocked those thoughts from her mind as well and decided to think about something else entirely. After a moment, she settled on her music as a safe topic and closed her eyes and mentally played the sonata she had been working on, concentrating all of her restless energy and frustration into seeing the music in front of her and feeling the keys under her fingers.

It was, as far as she could tell from the changes in the faint light which penetrated the shutters, nearly an hour before Mrs. Annesley stirred.

“Georgiana?”

“Yes, I am awake.”

“Did you sleep at all, my dear girl?”

“A little,” she whispered. “As each hour goes by and I think of the terrible pain and worry my family must be experiencing I find myself becoming more and more angry. I am so furious that I feel I must spontaneously combust and the thought of doing violence to our captors has firmly taken root in my mind, and I cannot remove it. What my sister must be going through! The ability of evil men to terrorise and ruin the lives of innocent women cannot be God’s will. It cannot.”

“I am sure you are right, my dear, but what can be done about it? Women are not as strong as men and cannot fight them by physical means.”

“No, but they should not have the power to control us with the threat of scandal and public ruin. These men know very well that if we escape we will not want to bring them to justice for fear of sullying my reputation and standing in society, so they are safe from retribution by legal means.”

Mrs. Annesley embraced her reassuringly and they turned to their usual attempts to fix their hair and wash, their conversation lagging. As she tried to untangle her hair with her fingers, Georgiana was repulsed by the greasy, stringy feel of the unwashed mass tumbling to her waist.

“My hair is positively disgusting. What I would give for a bath!”

Mrs. Annesley agreed, “Yes, I am feeling very dirty, and sleeping in our clothes has not helped their appearance.”

They finished their tasks and sat on the edge of the bed to await their breakfast, which was not long in coming. Again, Mr. Walker was shoved unceremoniously into the room in front of the wizened old woman who brought the food. Walker’s shackles were off his ankles, but his hands were still bound. When the door had slammed and the lock clicked shut behind the old woman, Walker greeted the two ladies:

“Good morning, ladies. As you can see, I am still a guest in this fine establishment.” He bowed over Georgiana’s hand and she could smell the clean scent of French-milled soap coming from his hair, which was tousled but did not appear greasy. She jerked involuntarily and then tried to smile to cover her confusion. Walker noted her start.

“Are you well, Miss Darcy? You look pale.”

“Y-yes, I am fine. I am not surprised that my looks have suffered during my ordeal.”

“It would take a great deal to damage your looks, Miss Darcy.”

She flushed with embarrassment and looked down at her hands. As she did so, she noticed Walker’s boots. They were not the same boots he had worn the day before. Both pairs were black, but these had a more rounded toe than the ones he had worn previously. She had particularly noticed the toes because she had been staring down in embarrassment while he was complimenting her courage, but she also noticed that there were no scrapes or gouges in the leather, as there would have been after many hours in shackles.

She gently took back the hand he was still holding and went to get Mrs. Annesley some porridge. While her back was turned and the others were chatting about inconsequential matters, she reviewed the events over the past few days frantically in her mind, her shaking hands automatically spooning the porridge into bowls. She could think of several circumstances which struck her now as incongruous, and she felt as if the scales had dropped from her eyes. What were the chances that an acquaintance would have witnessed their abduction? Why would the kidnappers allow him to follow them to the isolated house when they evidently knew he was there, judging by his immediate capture? Why would the gaolers be so kind as to rid Walker of his leg irons, other than to make it easier for him to “escape?” She had no answers to her questions, but when she turned back to Mrs. Annesley with her companion’s breakfast, she had succeeded in controlling her visage, and she was able to converse normally, she thought, with Walker.

Mr. Walker was dragged out of the room after the meal, and Georgiana stood at the window, trying to see through the slats of the shutters. She decided not to tell her companion about her suspicions; the elderly Mrs. Annesley was far too artless to keep up the pretence of ignorance. Frankly, Georgiana was even less adept at subterfuge, but she could not return to the previous day’s innocence, so she must mask her knowledge for both their sakes.

***

Elizabeth awoke at dawn on the third day after the kidnapping and stared bleakly at the hangings which covered her bed. The colonel had been unable to find any witnesses to the abduction, and his efforts to confirm Walker’s innocence had been unavailing. He had called in the afternoon of the day after Georgiana’s disappearance and told her abruptly, “I did not find anything in the park that helped in our search and I can prove neither Walker’s innocence nor his guilt. He is supposedly visiting friends in the country, but Sir Robert does not know their name.”

He had rubbed his hand over his face, and she had noticed the dark circles around his eyes.

“May I get you a drink, Colonel? Or perhaps a cup of tea?”

“Thank you, tea would be fine—if I can swallow it. I feel as if I am choking on my anger and guilt.”

“Guilt?” she had said, her brows lifted.

“Yes. The first time I have had sole responsibility for my ward and I have lost her. I do not know what I am going to tell Darcy.” He had stared up at the ceiling and blinked several times. “And poor, sweet Georgiana. What she must be feeling now, abandoned by those she trusts.”

Elizabeth had set down her teacup with a crash. “Colonel, there is no purpose in blaming yourself; I am the one who was most responsible for Georgiana’s well-being. If there is any fault, it is mine. In any case, blaming ourselves will not return Georgiana to us.”

The drawing-room door had opened and Burton had entered with his silver salver and offered it to the colonel.

“A message just arrived for you, Colonel Fitzwilliam, sent from Lord Whitwell.”

He had picked up the missive and thanked Burton. After the butler had returned to the hall, he had unfolded the earl’s fine notepaper and examined the enclosed note folded inside, and Elizabeth had joined him. There had been nothing distinctive about the notepaper, which appeared to be of the cheapest sort, but he seemed reluctant to open it. She had looked up at him curiously, and he hurriedly opened the seal, which had been pressed with a large thumb to hold the folded paper closed.

Colonel Fitzwilliam,—

We have your ward, Miss Darcy. We will return her unharmed as soon as you pay us £10,000. You have two days to gather the money. We will contact you then. Do not attempt to find us or you will be sorry, and so will she.

The letter was unsigned and the writing was crude in appearance, in contrast to the educated spelling and grammar.

Elizabeth had felt the blood drain from her face.

“How will we obtain that much money, especially with my husband gone?”

“I will go to my father immediately. Perhaps he can convince the bank to lend him the money, but two days is not long.”

“I suppose the longer they hold Georgiana, the more chance there is that they will be discovered.” She had felt her stomach lurch and had quickly sat down, covering her face with her hands.

“Should I call your maid, Mrs. Darcy?”

Elizabeth had shaken her head. “No, I will be fine. Go quickly to your father. He is undoubtedly as undone as we are; I do not wish to keep him in suspense.”

He had looked at her for a moment with concern then turned and left. She had remained sitting for several minutes, she then forced herself to drink her tea and return to the needlework he had interrupted, but her hands were shaking too much for her to control the needle and she soon gave up.

The remainder of the afternoon and the next two days had crept by with agonising slowness, without news of either Georgiana or Walker. Lord Whitwell was negotiating with his bank for a loan, secured by the deed to Longford House, which was not bound in the entail on his estate, and the colonel was still trying to gather information from his agents. Those who had gone to Gretna Green had come back empty-handed. There was no sign of anyone fitting Georgiana’s or Mrs. Annesley’s description, and their watch on the roads had failed to bring any further sightings.

Elizabeth, without an active part to undertake in the rescue of Georgiana, spent her days pretending to attend to her usual duties while she went over the details of her sister’s abduction again and again. She needed to suppress her natural irritability over her lack of any useful task to assist the men and pretend to be calm and unperturbed. Lady Whitwell, also without a role in this crisis, visited her and they talked about Georgiana and her ordeal frequently. Her support was a great comfort for Elizabeth and made the maddening hours pass more quickly.

On the fifth morning, Elizabeth rang early for Lambert and dressed in a morning robe. She stared at her face in the glass while Lambert tidied her hair, her eyes dark-circled and haunted and her cheeks pale, and then turned away from the sight. While she was picking at her breakfast, Burton entered with his salver.

“A letter, Mrs. Darcy.”

She picked up the familiar coarse envelope and nodded to Burton, who bowed and left after one long, backwards glance. She opened the letter and read:

Miss Darcy is eager to return to her home. Mrs. Darcy will carry the money to St. Paul’s Cathedral in a satchel at one pm today and wait to be contacted. She will come alone. If there is any sign that she is accompanied you will never see Miss Darcy again.

Elizabeth felt a cold chill and wrapped her shawl more tightly around her. She must find the colonel, and quickly. She hurried out to the hall and said, “Burton, the carriage. I must go to Longford House immediately.”

“Yes, madam.”

The carriage raced through the early morning streets and she stepped down in front of Longford House within minutes. It was the work of seconds to acquaint Lord and Lady Whitwell of the most recent letter, and Lord Whitwell sent upstairs for the colonel, who had been staying with his parents during this threat to the family. When he came downstairs, his eyes still puffy with sleep (or more likely lack of it, Elizabeth thought), he read the letter through twice.

“There is no way on earth that you are going to put yourself in the power of these criminals.”

Lord Whitwell nodded in agreement.

“No indeed. We will not risk you, Mrs. Darcy.”

“But why do they want me to deliver the money?”

The colonel chewed on his lower lip, a mannerism startlingly like that of his ward, Elizabeth thought with surprise as she waited for him to speak.

“They probably feel that Mrs. Darcy is less likely to be a threat, which is undoubtedly true, because of my feelings at the moment.”

Elizabeth looked up at him and saw the barely contained flicker of fury in his eyes again. She spoke up, “I will deliver the money. We have no choice.”

They continued to argue over the details of the payment in Lord Whitwell’s library, while they awaited the arrival of the money from the bank, until Lady Whitwell, who had maintained a shocked silence during the entire conversation, said, “Do not argue about it any more. Mrs. Darcy is willing to risk her life for Georgiana, as we all are. She will do what needs to be done to obtain Georgiana’s return. Instead of arguing whether she should be allowed to do it, we should be trying to determine how to protect her safety as much as we can under the circumstances.”

The two men stared at her then tacitly gave in and began discussing whether they could place several men inside St. Paul’s vast interior while awaiting the arrival of the bank officer with the money in the late morning.

***

The banker had just departed from Longford House after delivering the £10,000 when there was a peal from the doorbell, and seconds later the library door burst open to reveal Jonathan Walker, dishevelled and dirt smeared, his hands bound with shackles. Hanford fluttered behind him, looking shocked.

“Please. I know where Miss Darcy is.”

They all stared narrowly at him as he gasped out, “They captured me after I followed their carriage from the park. I had been riding just before dark. I did not know it was Miss Darcy until later, I just saw two women pulled into a carriage. It was only today that I was able to escape from the house. You must come with me. They will know that I am free and we must get there before they can move their hostages.”