Chapter Seventeen
After speaking, or rather arguing, with Georgiana for some time, Darcy returned to his chamber to pen a letter requesting Mrs. Annesley’s presence, so she might escort his sister to Darcy House in London.
Though technically his sister required no escort, she was still only sixteen.
Not only did Darcy not care for the idea of her traveling or living alone, he preferred to maintain the facade of her innocence, for which he’d so far paid Wickham a small fortune.
Georgiana had, as Richard predicted, refused Darcy’s request that she depart Netherfield Park, but Mrs. Annesley would need to receive his letter, then make arrangements to join them.
Nor would she turn around and depart immediately upon arriving.
Darcy had several days to convince his sister to seek greater safety than Netherfield Park offered, and he would.
After asking Patrick to see the letter on its way, Darcy readied for tea.
He attempted not to dwell on Georgiana’s reason for wishing to remain, namely her enjoyment of the Bennet sisters’ company.
Darcy had assumed his sister would protest going out of guilt over the predicament she had helped craft via her ill-advised union with Wickham, not because she was enjoying the company of Misses Mary, Kitty, and Lydia.
The assuaging of her remorse over repeated attempts to harm ‘Mr. Darcy’ should relieve him, and certainly did, so he would never admit to feeling a bit hurt by her rally.
Apparently, the threat to his life, and by design Richard’s, was not so troubling in the face of girls her own age to chatter with.
Once satisfied with the suitability of his attire, Darcy left his room to stride halls dotted with vases of hothouse flowers brought up weekly.
He worked to put his disagreement with Georgiana out of his mind and to gather his thoughts for his next difficult conversation.
Now that he comprehended the implications of the cellar, Darcy could no longer uphold Richard’s deception when it came to the other residents of Netherfield Park.
Miss Bingley and the Hursts had the right to know the precise level of danger they undertook by remaining.
If Bingley would not tell them, Darcy would.
He entered the drawing room to the sight of not only Bingley, Miss Bingley, and the Hursts, but Georgiana and Richard as well, much to his chagrin.
Around a small table, the gentlemen and Miss Bingley played cards, while Georgiana sat at the pianoforte.
Mrs. Hurst alone occupied one of the low sofas around the empty tea table, needle bobbing as she embroidered.
“Colonel Fitzwilliam,” Miss Bingley greeted brightly, swiveling to regard him. “We did not know if you would join us. Shall I call for tea?”
Darcy frowned, aware that was an overly polite way of noting that they’d been waiting on him. “Certainly, but only after we discuss a matter of some relevance.”
Setting down his cards, Bingley asked, “Can we not discuss and eat? I am half famished and we have an evening at Lucas Lodge to ready for.”
“After you hear what I must say, you may no longer wish for an evening at Lucas Lodge.”
Miss Bingley leaned forward. “Have you learned something even more disreputable about them than that Sir William was once a shopkeeper? Perhaps why Miss Lucas is yet unwed, for I can discover no reason.”
“I thought she was unwed due to being rather plain,” Hurst said, finally looking up from his hand.
“Nonsense. She is not that plain, and is intelligent and capable.” Miss Bingley shook her head. “There must be something more.”
Over her sheet music, Georgiana’s eyes were wide with interest.
“Perhaps Sir William overspends and she has not a penny of dowry,” Mrs. Hurst suggested.
“I have had the same thought.” Miss Bingley turned back to him. “Is that what you have discovered, Colonel?”
“I am not here to pass along idle gossip,” Darcy said stiffly. What did they take him for?
“Where did we come down on the tea issue?” Bingley asked.
“Yes, Darcy.” Richard regarded him with amusement. “Do you truly mean to deprive Bingley of sustenance in his own home?”
With a scowl for his cousin, Darcy pushed a hand through his hair. “You should all know that you are in greater danger than you believe.”
Richard sighed and leaned back in his chair.
“How’s this?” Hurst asked.
“Danger?” Mrs. Hurst said tentatively. “From the people trying to abduct Mr. Darcy?”
“I am afraid you have been misled,” Darcy said stiffly. “The attempts are not of abduction, but murder. A ten-thousand-pound reward has been offered for whosoever can produce proof of my demise on the first of December.”
From a full half of Darcy’s audience, wide eyes, gaping mouths, and silence met his words.
After a moment, Hurst let out a low whistle. “Ten thousand pounds? I am half inclined to do you in myself, for that sum.”
Darcy cast him a scowl.
“Yes, well, thank you for being honest with us.” Bingley spoke so quickly as to earn suspicious looks from his relations. “We will, ah, take that into consideration. Now, about tea—”
“There is more,” Darcy stated before Bingley could summon a member of the staff.
Although, as they were all a party to Richard’s bizarre conspiracy, it did not truly matter if they overheard.
“There have been more attempts than you are aware of, and the perpetrators are being held, without proper adjudication, in the cellar.”
Richard raised his gaze ceilingward in silent supplication.
Georgiana, who had heard the news of the criminals being kept in the same home with them from Darcy already, as part of his argument for her departure, peered from face to face from the safety of her place behind the pianoforte.
Bingley, in contrast, appeared as surprised as his relations.
Mrs. Hurst’s voice rose high and brittle as she said, “There are criminals…murderers, in this house?”
“Yes.” Darcy added a hard look for Richard to his agreement.
Mrs. Hurst surged to her feet, cloth, needle, and thread dropping unheeded to the floor. “We are leaving immediately. Steven, call the carriage. Caroline—”
“I will remain,” Miss Bingley cut in.
Mrs. Hurst gaped at her. “You most certainly will not. Not in a house full of murderers and not without proper chaperone.”
“Charles is a perfectly acceptable chaperone.”
Mrs. Hurst’s hands clenched. “It is too dangerous.” She turned to their brother. “Charles, you should not remain either.”
“Yes, well.” Bingley tugged at his collar, casting Richard a sour look. “I will stay and see this through. Threat to Darcy and all that.”
Her lips pursed, Mrs. Hurst looked from sibling to sibling. “Very well. Do as you will, the both of you, but we are leaving. Steven.” This last she snapped, bringing Mr. Hurst to his feet. Mrs. Hurst stamped from the room, head high.
Miss Bingley turned to Richard. “Are we in very much danger?”
He shook his head. “No. The miscreants are well contained, and the house staffed with trained soldiers. I would never put you in undue danger, Miss Bingley.”
“Steven,” Mrs. Hurst’s voice screeched from down the corridor.
“Ah, right.” Mr. Hurst bowed to the room at large, then followed his wife.
“I will see if I can convince Louisa to remain,” Miss Bingley said before departing as well.
Once their footfalls faded, Richard turned to Darcy. “Was that truly necessary?”
Annoyance sped through him. “They should know the danger they are undertaking by remaining here.”
“They are in no danger. All you have done is alarm them and jeopardize this mission.”
“Your mission,” Darcy cast back. “Not theirs.”
At the table, Bingley displayed great concentration in gathering up the discarded playing cards.
“Furthermore,” Richard continued, “I informed you that an entire militia has been dispatched to Meryton and will arrive soon to augment the men already here. Surely, more than a militia’s worth of men can reliably contain a few prisoners and patrol Netherfield Park.”
“You did not tell me a militia is coming.” Georgiana’s words startled Darcy, for he’d all but forgotten her presence.
With equal displeasure for both his sister and cousin, Darcy replied, “That is irrelevant. Bingley and his relations should be given a full understanding of the peril they are in if they choose to remain here.”
“And yet you would give me no choice, had you your way.” Georgiana stood from her bench, the fallboard thunking closed over the keys.
Rather than storm out, as Darcy expected, she went calmly to the hall door to address whatever member of the staff stood without, saying, “We would like tea for five, please. Quickly, if possible. We have a gathering to attend this evening.” She cast a look over her shoulder at Darcy adding, “After all, there is no sense in remaining here all evening, in a house full of criminals.”
As civility forbade Darcy from storming from the room as Mrs. Hurst had, he crossed to the sofas, stepping over that lady’s discarded embroidery on his way. He sat, cast his sister, cousin, and Bingley another frown, and said, “Very well, then. Let us have tea.”
Darcy’s mood was no better by the time they arrived at Lucas Lodge that evening, the Hursts having already departed for London.
The only thing that made attending at all bearable was the hope of seeing Elizabeth.
If not for that, he would have remained behind, cellar full of criminals or no.
And if she proved not to be in attendance, he may very well—
But there she was, standing halfway across the large drawing room into which they were shown, in the company of Miss Lucas and a tall, awkward looking gentleman Darcy didn’t know.
With no qualms about abandoning relations who had done nothing but aggravate him for the bulk of the day, especially as Georgiana immediately went in the direction of Misses Mary, Kitty, and Lydia, Darcy set out across the room.
Reaching Elizabeth and her companions, he bowed.