Chapter 14
Darcy returned home after a long day traipsing through London’s seedier neighbourhoods. Despite the distasteful nature of his errand, it had been a fruitful few days. He’d pieced together Wickham’s movements in the weeks before the man had come to Hertfordshire.
Wickham had taken up with Lady Powell, the widow of a wealthy baronet. She’d apparently tired of bankrolling Wickham’s gambling—cutting him off before he could settle his debts.
Minnie had worked in Lady Powell’s household. Rumour amongst the servants was that Wickham had been bedding them both. When Lady Powell found out, she dismissed the girl without a reference.
The entire sordid mess disgusted Darcy.
He climbed the stairs to his bedroom, his steps slow and heavy after a long day. The smell of the rookeries was heavy on him, and he bathed to remove the grime of the streets. Feeling lighter, he donned his evening clothes.
Once dressed, he headed downstairs to await the dinner gong. The butler presented him with a message from Mr. Gardiner. Darcy sat in his study to read it.
The letter contained a sealed note from Elizabeth. Darcy appreciated that her uncle trusted them with the secrecy. When he opened it and read her words, waves of emotion flowed over him, turning him hot, then cold.
Caroline, with child? He felt as if he’d been pulled back in time to that day in Ramsgate.
That day when he’d learnt Georgiana was planning to elope with Wickham.
Darcy had come so close to losing her—he could never quite feel a sense of victory at stopping them.
He still sometimes awoke from nightmares that he’d been too late.
And now, Bingley’s sister. It wasn’t a sure thing—Elizabeth had been clear about that. Even if Caroline was increasing, Wickham might not be responsible.
Who else might the culprit be? In dismay, he realised there was an entire regiment of soldiers to choose from. Caroline had shown no preference for anyone in particular—except himself, of course.
Suddenly, her advances towards him seemed less complimentary.
The gong interrupted his thoughts. He wished he’d thought to pour himself a brandy to lighten his mood before the meal. A glass of wine with dinner would have to do.
He stepped out of the study as Georgiana and Mrs. Annesley descended the stairs. The two ladies made a striking pair.
Georgiana was in the first bloom of young womanhood. Slender, blonde haired, and blue eyed, she had the perfect English rose complexion. Her gown was of the palest blush pink—modest but with the promise of burgeoning womanhood.
Mrs. Annesley, by contrast, was a young widow of Black African descent. Dark curls peeked out from beneath her lacy mobcap. Dressed in dove grey, she wore a smile that showed the dimples in her round face.
As Georgiana stood before him, Darcy’s chest ached to see her looking so innocent and vulnerable. He’d done his best for her in the five years he’d been her guardian. Could he ever do enough?
He constrained his emotions, placing a quick kiss on his sister’s cheek. “How pretty you look.”
She looked up and gave him a sweet smile. He offered his arm and led her into the dining room, with Mrs. Annesley walking behind.
The white soup was served, fragrant with veal and thyme. Sitting to his right at the table, Georgiana looked up, her eyes meeting his. “Is something wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?”
He considered his words a moment. He didn’t wish to alarm her. “I missed you whilst I was at Netherfield. I didn’t wish to interrupt your studies, but perhaps I should have brought you with me.”
Her cheeks pinkened. “I wouldn’t have known anyone except the Bingleys.”
“True enough.” Was he indulging her shyness too much by not exposing her to new experiences?
He trusted her companion to protect and care for her in every way that was proper. But Georgiana would benefit from mixing in a more varied society.
“It will be easier for us to travel as a family,” he said, “once I’m married.”
Georgiana stared. “Do you expect to marry soon?”
Darcy cleared his throat. He hadn’t meant to broach the subject in that manner, but there was no point in backtracking now. “I haven’t yet made a formal offer, but yes, I’m considering it.”
Her fork clattered onto the china plate. “Someone I know?” she asked excitedly.
“No. It’s a young woman from Hertfordshire. I’ll introduce you soon. You will like her, I think, and she’ll adore you.”
“Brother, this is wonderful news!” Georgiana looked over to her companion. “But this won’t affect Mrs. Annesley’s place, I hope?”
“Not at all,” he declared. “My marriage will expand your opportunities—not take away from the ones you already have.”
“Miss Darcy,” said Mrs. Annesley, “you’re a dear to think of me. Of course I wouldn’t wish to leave you. But the future Mrs. Darcy will be your sister. You must place her wishes above mine.”
“Please,” Darcy said, “let me reassure you. The future Mrs. Darcy is not a meddling sort. She’ll have enough to keep her busy as mistress of this house and of Pemberley. Once she confirms Georgiana is being properly looked after, she’ll be content.”
“Thank you,” said Mrs. Annesley, her voice light and resonant. “We’ll of course be happy for any suggestions she has.”
He offered a wry smile and squeezed his sister’s hand. “There is one suggestion she might propose. She’s constantly scolding me for not putting myself forward enough in company. She may encourage you to be more sociable, Georgiana.”
“Oh!” his sister cried.
“But she wouldn’t wish to make you unhappy. You must not be afraid to tell her how you feel.”
“Yes. Of course.”
Darcy decided he’d said enough for one evening. He didn’t want to overwhelm Georgiana, and the girl would meet Elizabeth soon enough.
After the ladies retired to the drawing room, a footman brought Darcy a missive on a silver salver. He explained that the note had come by messenger from the Hursts’ butler.
Darcy frowned as he opened the letter. The words were vague. Apparently, Caroline had need of him, though it was unclear why. The butler requested he come to the house on Grosvenor Street immediately.
What was Caroline up to? He must go, of course. She was Bingley’s sister. He would always be available to her, just as Bingley would be for Georgiana.
Yet he didn’t trust Caroline. If he went to the house whilst she was there alone, she could be ruined if anyone found out.
Was that her plan? To trap him into marriage, and pass off the child she carried as his?
If so, he would put a stop to it. He was no one’s pawn.
He made his way to the drawing room. Georgiana and Mrs. Annesley were laughing and chatting together as they sewed.
Georgiana looked up at him and smiled. “Are you joining us? I thought you were going to your club.”
That was the excuse he’d been giving for his absences from home. He couldn’t mention Wickham to her—not after the blackguard had preyed on her.
“I was planning to,” Darcy said. “However, I received a note that Miss Bingley is in town. I thought you might wish to see her.”
Georgiana smiled. “Oh yes, I’d like that very much!”
He turned to Mrs. Annesley. “Would you mind accompanying us?”
“Not at all.” She gave him a calm smile. “We can be ready in half an hour.”
“Perfect.”
It was a short ride to the house on Grosvenor Street. When the butler showed them into the sitting room adjoining Caroline’s bedchamber, her face fell. She didn’t seem pleased by the addition of the women to the party. Darcy suspected he’d made a narrow escape.
She recovered quickly, though, and greeted Georgiana warmly. Still, she seemed flustered and unable to articulate her reason for summoning him.
They talked of insignificant nothings—the weather, Georgiana’s studies, her progress on the harp. Darcy, who abhorred small talk under the best of circumstances, grew increasingly impatient.
Nearly a quarter hour had passed in this manner when he drew Caroline aside. He spoke in tones too low for Georgiana to hear. “Are you well? From the butler’s note, I had the impression you needed assistance.”
She turned away, then looked back with glistening eyes. “I didn’t wish to say anything in front of your sister. I’ve received terrible news.”
Horror stampeded over him. Had something happened to Bingley? Had Darcy been thinking the worst of Caroline, when in fact her note to him had been in earnest?
“It’s Jane,” she said in a choked voice.
A new fear gripped him. His blood turned to ice, and his chest tightened. “Miss Bennet?”
“Yes. Apparently she’d been ill… I had not heard… And now…” Tears overran the rims of her eyes. “Oh, Mr. Darcy, she’s gone! Poor Jane died this afternoon!”
Steely fingers gripped his heart. His gut clenched, and all sense of his surroundings faded. His only thought was of Elizabeth.
In a rush, he sent Georgiana and Mrs. Annesley home in the coach. He hailed a hackney and stepped inside, unsure whether he’d even bothered to take his leave of Caroline. With the promise of a doubled fare for travelling in haste, the driver hurried to Cheapside.
∞∞∞
Wickham stood outside the Hurst residence on Grosvenor Street. He’d recognised the crest on Darcy’s coach. Under cover of darkness, Wickham had waited for the man to leave. Darcy might tear Wickham to pieces if he discovered him.
But Wickham had to see Caroline tonight.
Jane’s death had ruined his plans. Time to return to the original scheme. The revenge wouldn’t be as sweet as Darcy raising Wickham’s by-blow as his own. But Wickham needed Caroline’s twenty thousand.
He couldn’t wait. Denny had lent him a few coins to keep old Marsden at bay—but the reprieve wouldn’t last long.
Wickham eyed the house, wondering how to get in. He was certain the butler wouldn’t admit him. Not with Caroline there alone. If he sneaked in through the servants’ entrance, though, he could make his way to Caroline’s rooms.