Chapter 20 Hollow Inducement
Elizabeth awoke to an empty bed and a churning stomach. She lay deathly still until her insides had settled, then pulled the bell for her maid.
She was late down for breakfast and enquired after her husband, who was, surprisingly, still abed.
When she was full, she went to the library to find something to read. She had not been there long before the knocker sounded.
“If you will wait in the study, I shall notify the master,” Mr Gilbert spoke to whoever had come to call.
“Yes, that would be agreeable.”
Elizabeth’s heart sank. To be subjected to rude and insulting remarks from people unconnected to her was disconcerting; it was an entirely different matter when it was family.
She had recognised the voice, and it did not bode well for her fluttering nerves.
Judge Darcy had made no secret of his dislike of her; he thought her utterly and irrevocably unworthy of the Darcy name.
He must have espied her through the open door because he entered and turned his jaundiced eyes upon her.
It was a struggle not to shudder in revulsion.
“Judge Darcy, how do you do? I shall notify Mr Darcy that you are here.”
“Do you not have servants for that, madam?”
“Yes, well…I shall notify Mrs Murray and order refreshments.”
“Make sure to add pastries to the cold meat and cheese.”
“Yes, sir.”
She pulled the cord by the fireplace to summon the housekeeper. Darcy passed by the door and entered the adjacent study. He looked haggard after only five hours of sleep. His uncle followed him.
“What is this I hear? Did you engage that Bingley woman for two dances last night?”
Judge Darcy’s grating voice could be heard through the wall, and the mention of a certain lady made Elizabeth strain to listen.
“Yes. It would have been abominably rude to leave the woman in the middle of a set.”
“Tongues are wagging that you have already tired of your wife. A wife whose absence was noted. I implore you, if you must spread your wild oats, do it with more care. Plenty of respectable widows, who are more experienced, would be more than grateful for your services.”
“I resent the implication,” Darcy growled in a low, forbidding voice. “I have no interest in Miss Bingley, romantic or otherwise. She is the sister of a friend, nothing more.”
Elizabeth swallowed a sigh of relief and willed her legs to move forwards—away from the ignoble judge, but his next words arrested her from proceeding.
“It is not too late to apply for a divorce.”
The judge’s words implied that the subject of divorce had already been discussed, and cold dread lodged in her chest.
“Dragging my personal business through a seven-year court case will hardly restore my name. I would be an old man before it concluded. Not that I—”
“Five and thirty is hardly an old man. You would have many good years to sire that heir you need with a proper lady. A lady of wealth, connections, and a title. Be aware that as long as you are contemplating it, it is best you do not impregnate the Hertfordshire chit. If you get one of these modern, addlepated judges, they may object to a divorce if there is a child born from the union. Unless you have reasons to believe it is not yours. That might cut years off the process. I have the power to help you in that endeavour. I have researched the subject, and it may not take as long as you suggest. The Marquess of Lothian married Lady Harriette three weeks after she divorced Lord Belmore by an Act of Parliament…”
Darcy said nothing in reply, which was quite telling.
“You may dispose of a child should your wife already be enceinte, though no method is without significant risks to the mother. Do you have her courses recorded?”
Elizabeth’s blood rushed cold in her veins, and she did not wait for her husband’s reply; she had heard enough.
A loud bang spurred her to hasten her stride.
There was not a shadow of a doubt that the judge was capable of executing every threat to her person and was most likely responsible for the campaign against her.
She would deal with that later because it was time to set her plan into action.
Preferably before Sunday and the reading of the banns.
She ran up the stairs with her heart beating wildly in her throat. “You are not easy to love, Mr Darcy,” she muttered as she entered her chamber and pulled the bell. Martha was with her in an instant.
“My courses have come and I need sheets.”
“Right away, ma’am. But I have to run down to the scullery for them.”
Excellent! That should set the tongues wagging through the household. It was of the utmost importance that no one suspected what she had an inkling was the truth.
“Thank you, and could you pack my old gowns in a trunk? I have decided to donate them to my aunt’s charity. Please call for the cart. I assume we have about twenty minutes before it is ready to leave. Will that be feasible?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Martha curtsied and hastened to do her bidding. She was going to miss her lady’s maid…
After eavesdropping on the enlightening conversation in the study, Elizabeth would not mind disappearing for all eternity and would not shed a single tear for the loss of her oafish husband. Oh no! She was vexed and not sorry at all…
In a strongbox she had a small sum of ready pin money, but it was not enough. She hoped she could withdraw funds from her settlement without Mr Darcy’s signature.
She opened her escritoire and penned a note for her husband. It would be cruel to leave without notifying him. After all that had transpired, she still loved him.
With the trunk loaded upon a small cart used to transport goods from the market, Elizabeth sent it to Gracechurch Street and turned to Martha.
“I have a desire for a walk in the park if you would care to join me, Martha.”
Martha eyed her mistress with trepidation. “Should you not rest, ma’am?”
Elizabeth had briefly forgotten that she had asserted her courses had come and had made a great show of pretending to wear the sheets Martha had delivered.
“Not at all. I have found that my pains are lessened by vigorous walks.”
Martha’s eyebrows rose up her forehead, but she dared not gainsay her mistress.
Elizabeth sighed in relief when her maid nodded and they set out for the Grosvenor Gate to Hyde Park.
She steered them towards the Serpentine and an idea formed in her head when she espied a boat offering to row passengers on the river.
“I would like to take a turn on the water, but I am a little cold. Would you mind fetching my blue shawl?”
“But…I cannot leave you alone.”
“Nonsense. I am perfectly safe. Besides, I see an acquaintance of mine waiting in line with her mother. I shall keep company with her until you return.”
Martha turned reluctantly and began the long walk back towards Grosvenor Square. She was not an excellent walker, and the return would take quite some time to accomplish—especially considering that Mrs Gardiner had borrowed the aforementioned shawl.
Elizabeth waited until Martha was out of sight before she hastened in the opposite direction.
She left by Hyde Park Corner, hired a hackney, and ordered it to Gracechurch Street by a circuitous route that avoided the main thoroughfares.
The vehicle stopped three houses down from Mr Gardiner’s, and she paid the driver before skulking through the servants’ entrance and entering Lydia’s room undetected.
Her youngest sister was bent over the trunk Elizabeth had sent from Grosvenor Square, holding up gown after gown before tossing it into a growing pile on the floor.
“Lydia,” she whispered.
Her sister turned. “Why are you whispering?”
Elizabeth put her index finger to her lips. “Please, try not to notify anyone about my presence, and put my raiment back into the trunk.”
Lydia gathered the gowns and dropped them into the case. Elizabeth sighed. After her sister’s callous treatment they would all need pressing.
“I have a solution to your problem.”
Lydia brightened. “Thank the Lord! I was beginning to grow concerned that I would be shackled to the reprobate for the rest of my life.”
“It will not be easy,” Elizabeth hastened to caution her exuberant sister.
“I am intrigued. What do you have in mind?”
“What do you say to a sea voyage?” Elizabeth raised her eyebrows.
“I say yes!” Lydia clapped in glee. “Where to, Lizzy? America?”
“Lower your voice. No. To the cont—”
The door opened, and Mrs Gardiner entered with a stern expression on her face. “What is this, Elizabeth? Skulking through the servants’ entrance to lure your sister on a mad dash to who knows where?”
“Please, Aunt, I can explain.”
“Not without your uncle present.”
Mrs Gardiner’s pursed lips told Elizabeth that she could not be persuaded.
“No one must know that I am here,” she warned.
Mrs Gardiner nodded and looked out of the door to see whether any servants were about. There must not have been, because she waved them out and hastened them to Mr Gardiner’s study.
Her uncle looked surprised at the intrusion into his sanctuary, but he sobered quickly after studying their serious countenances. Elizabeth stepped forwards.
“I have a suggestion. Nay, a demand. Lydia and I must leave as soon as possible. We have not an instant to lose, and no one must know that I have been here. Tell everyone that Lydia escaped through her window during the night. You did not notify anyone immediately because you believed you could retrieve her without adding to the scandal. We must find a ship that can take us to Rendsburg under fictitious names. Perhaps I should act the lady and Lydia could be my maid?”
Lydia huffed but did not protest.
“What about Mr Darcy? Is he apprised of the scheme you have concocted?”
Mr Gardiner’s stare bore into her like a spear, and tears welled in her eyes.
“No,” she declared in a firm voice before drawing a fortifying breath and raising her chin. “Mr Darcy dallied with Miss Bingley at Lady Castlereagh’s ball last night.”
“How do you know?” Mr Gardiner asked sharply.
“I was not in attendance, but Mr Darcy mistook me for Miss Bingley when he arrived home.”
“That is hardly evidence,” Mr Gardiner scoffed.
“No, not in itself, but I have since had it confirmed by Judge Darcy. He arrived in a bluster to berate Mr Darcy for his indiscretion. When I left home—”
Her heart ached; it would no longer be her home when she returned to English soil. After the scheme she was about to enact, Mr Darcy would despise her even more, but her efforts were better spent saving her sister from the worst fate.
Elizabeth was bone tired but could not rest. Gathering the last of her strength, she continued.
“When I left the house, Judge Darcy and Mr Darcy were discussing how he might divorce me, and worse.”
Mrs Gardiner’s sharp intake of breath did not escape Elizabeth’s notice. Lydia gaped, and Mr Gardiner raked his hand through his hair.
“What could possibly be worse?” Mrs Gardiner cried.
“To remove a child from a mother’s womb. Apparently, it is not without risks.”
“I am shocked and grieved,” Mr Gardiner muttered.
Mrs Gardiner moved in front of her and grabbed her hands. Elizabeth watched her stroke her knuckles through a misty fog.
“Do you suspect?”
Elizabeth nodded. “I cannot be certain. It is too soon. I am only a week late.” Her cheeks warmed, speaking about such intimate affairs for the first time. “But I am usually regular.”
Mrs Gardiner released her hands and turned to her husband.
“That settles it. I never suspected it of Mr Darcy, but these rich men can do whatever they please with no fear of repercussions. I shall not stand for it! Edward, send a boy to the dock to see whether a ship is to sail for Rendsburg in the not-so-distant future.”
She turned back to Elizabeth. “Do you have any funds?”
Elizabeth pulled her small stack of five-pound notes out of her reticule.
“I had hoped to withdraw money from my settlement account.”
“That is impossible without Mr Darcy’s signature, and what you have is not sufficient. I shall give you all I have and so will your uncle.”
“Do I have any say?” the aforementioned uncle asked drily.
“Not in this case,” Mrs Gardiner retorted with a huff.
“Mrs Rowland, a friend of mine from Lambton, knows of George Wickham, and what she has told me is not good. I would not be surprised if he agreed to the marriage to rid himself of his debts, only to leave poor Lydia as soon as they were paid. We cannot allow your sister to be abandoned, and I would not mind teaching Mr Darcy a lesson. By him I have been most grievously deceived.”
Mr Gardiner raised his hands in surrender. “In this, dearest, we are in agreement.”
Mrs Gardiner kissed his cheek before hurrying him out on a set of pressing errands.
“Very well. Shall I take it as a compliment that you still regard me as an errand boy, Mrs Gardiner?” Mr Gardiner winked at his wife. “But I must notify Mr Bennet of this development. He is Elizabeth and Lydia’s father.”
“Can you please wait until the ship has left the dock?” Elizabeth pleaded.
“I shall consider it,” Mr Gardiner allowed before he strode determinedly out of the room.
Her uncle returned a few hours later with excellent news: he had procured passages on a merchant ship and hired two stout footmen for protection. They would have to leave in the middle of the night though, as the ship sailed from Harwich…
Elizabeth regarded the maid who had been tasked to aid her; she was full young.
“I am not certain,” she prevaricated. “I may need help to do the heavy lifting.”
“I have two brothers who are currently unemployed,” the maid replied in a distinct German accent.
That was interesting indeed. “It will be a short engagement,” Elizabeth warned. “It is not a permanent position. You, of course, will remain at Ritterhof, but your brothers will be released once the task has been accomplished.”
“Any work is better than nothing,” Lydia replied, giggling and unconcerned.
Elizabeth wished that she was as fearless as her sister, but her sternum ached anxiously.
It was important that they practised their roles and did not abandon the characters they had invented before they were safely ensconced at Ritterhof Castle. If they were welcome. Elizabeth shook off the misgivings.
“If everything is executed to my satisfaction, I shall write each of you a note of recommendation. That might give you all a greater chance of finding employment in the future.”
“Thank you so much,” Lydia curtsied twice in gratitude. “They live not so far from here. I shall fetch them at once.”
She pretended to leave the study.
“The footmen will arrive in time before we leave tomorrow,” Mr Gardiner grumbled. He was not amused.
“Excellent. The scheme would be more plausible if the lads had liveries, but they are too expensive.” Elizabeth glanced at her uncle.
“I know of a place where you can hire those for a few shillings,” Mr Gardiner assured her.