Chapter 26
Before Elizabeth realized what was happening, Georgiana rushed up to her from behind. Elizabeth threw her arm out, preventing the girl from rushing past her.
“No, they have guns!” she cried out. “Stay behind me! I will not let them harm you.”
“Georgie?” the man on the floor groaned.
“But it is my cousin,” Georgiana protested weakly. “The one who wrote me the letter.”
Warily, Elizabeth looked down at the man at her feet. “You are Colonel Fitzwilliam? Then where is Da—where is my husband?”
“Here, Beth.”
Elizabeth looked up as Darcy shoved his way through the men standing around in the crowded kitchen. Her shoulders sagged with relief, and she dropped her arm, allowing the broken bottle to fall to the ground amid the shards of glass.
“William, you made it.” Elizabeth’s eyes filled with tears. “You are safe.”
“As are you,” he assured her. “The man you have knocked to the ground is, indeed, Colonel Fitzwilliam.”
“Oh, I do beg your pardon, Colonel.” Elizabeth blanched when she saw the blood streaming through his fingers. “Please, you are injured. I am most sorry. Here, allow me to help you.”
She bent down in an attempt to help Georgiana’s cousin to his feet, but he waved her off with his other hand.
“My men will assist me,” he managed hoarsely, pressing a hand to his temple. He looked around, wincing at the movement. “Stand down, lads. Good Lord—what a blow.”
Georgiana once again attempted to get to her cousin, but Elizabeth held her back once more. “There is glass everywhere, Mrs. Georgiana, and you do not have shoes.”
“I can carry her,” the colonel said. He tried to rise, but staggered. “I can stand—at least, I think I can…”
“No,” Elizabeth said quickly. “It would be too dangerous. You are injured.”
He gave a short laugh that turned into a wince. “I confess, the world is turning rather more than it ought.”
Elizabeth seized a towel from the table and pressed it into his hand. “Here—use this to keep pressure upon the wound. The bleeding seems to have stopped, but you must not strain yourself.”
He obeyed without argument, holding the cloth to the gash above his brow. “Then one of my men shall carry Mrs. Wickham.”
At that, Georgiana flinched visibly and shook her head, shrinking back toward Elizabeth. Her voice was small but clear. “Please—no. I do not wish to be touched.”
Elizabeth glanced from her to the colonel, then spoke softly. “Would you prefer that William carry you instead?”
Georgiana hesitated, then nodded.
The colonel inclined his head. “Very well. Take her upstairs, but mind your footing. The rest of you—two remain here to guard the door, the others see that no one enters Pemberley without my order. Detain any man who attempts it, no matter who he is.”
The men saluted and dispersed to their posts.
Darcy stooped and lifted Georgiana gently into his arms. She trembled, but when she saw his face, her fear subsided. The colonel followed slowly, one hand still pressing the towel to his head, the other braced on Elizabeth’s arm for balance.
As they ascended, Elizabeth whispered another apology. “Colonel, I am deeply sorry for striking you. I had no thought but to protect her. I feared—”
He interrupted her with a faint smile. “You need not explain. I quite understand. In truth, I am impressed—your bravery in defending my cousin is remarkable, and your choice of weapon even more so.”
Elizabeth flushed. “It was simply the first thing I could find that was heavy enough to be useful.”
“Then fortune smiled on you—and less so on me.” He chuckled softly, then winced again. “Why was the door so devilishly difficult to push open?”
“The barrels,” she admitted. “We—well, I, rather—rolled them in front to barricade it.”
“Let me guess—that was also your idea?”
“Yes, Colonel.”
He nodded approvingly. “Then I wish half my soldiers had as much sense and loyalty.”
By the time they reached the upper floor, his steps had steadied. In Georgiana’s chamber, Darcy laid his sister gently upon the bed. Her pallor was startling against the linen, and the curve of her stomach was unmistakable. The colonel halted, his expression softening into sorrow.
“I see,” he said quietly.
He turned to Elizabeth and Darcy, giving them each a curt nod. “You have done your duty well. Thank you—both of you. You may go.”
They exchanged a glance, reluctant but obedient, and began to retreat toward the door.
“Wait.” Georgiana’s voice, though weak, carried across the room. She struggled to sit upright, one hand braced behind her. “Oh no—both of you stay, please.”
The colonel’s brows lifted. “I should much prefer to speak with you privately, Georgiana.”
She shook her head. “It will be easier if Beth remains. She has been my dearest companion—my confidante—and, if it is not too improper to say, my friend.”
“Your friend?” the colonel repeated, half in disbelief.
“Yes,” she said firmly. “If one may be friends with servants.”
He opened his mouth to protest again, but Georgiana’s eyes met his squarely. “Am I not the mistress of my own home? I shall decide who may hear what I have to say. These two have proved themselves both caring and trustworthy. I wish them to remain.”
For a moment, silence reigned. Then Colonel Fitzwilliam sighed, sinking onto the couch beside the fire. “Very well,” he said quietly. “Tell me everything, Georgie-girl.”
∞∞∞
Though Darcy already knew much of what Georgiana had endured—Elizabeth had told him the worst of it—he found it nearly unbearable to hear his sister recount it in her own trembling voice. Every word seemed to carve fresh wounds upon his heart. He had thought himself prepared; he was not.
Across from him, Colonel Fitzwilliam’s expression darkened with each revelation. The fury in his eyes matched the storm within Darcy’s own breast, and in that strange mirror of emotion Darcy found a grim sort of comfort. Whatever else this world had altered, Richard’s heart remained steadfast.
He wondered, as he had so many times in his real life, how two people as cold and unfeeling as the Matlocks could have produced a son like him.
Even before joining the army, Richard had possessed a warmth and sincerity that neither parent seemed capable of.
Darcy had long credited their childhood at Pemberley for shaping him—that steady companionship between cousins which had drawn Richard away from the frost of Matlock Hall—but as he watched him now, Darcy realized the truth ran deeper.
Such goodness could not be taught, not with parents like that.
It was born within him.
When Georgiana’s account at last faltered to an end, she slumped back against the pillows, pale and exhausted. Elizabeth leaned forward at once. “She has not slept more than an hour since yesterday,” she said softly.
The colonel nodded. “No wonder. It sounds as though the night you spent together was much like a battlefield.”
Elizabeth gave a faint, weary laugh. “That is precisely what it felt like: trying to sleep on the hard ground, no fire, never knowing if or when the enemy might strike.”
Georgiana opened her eyes, managing a small smile. “Even so, the scullery was better than my rooms. At least I was not alone.”
Elizabeth’s expression gentled. “You have been very brave these last weeks, my dear. Braver than most women would ever be.”
“It is only because of you, Beth,” Georgiana murmured drowsily. “Before you came, I had given up. I spoke to no one, I stayed in bed for days... but you made me believe there might still be hope.”
Elizabeth smiled, brushing a stray curl from the girl’s brow. “And as much as I celebrate you leaving your chambers, I would now like to see you back in bed, if you please. You must rest if you are to keep up your strength.”
The colonel gave a short nod. “You can sleep soundly, my dear. No one will enter this house unnoticed. It may be wise for us all to take what rest we can while we wait for the scoundrel to return.”
Georgiana’s eyes were already closing before he finished speaking. Within moments she had drifted into sleep. The colonel rose quietly, gesturing for Darcy and Elizabeth to follow him into the corridor.
“It seems,” he said with a faint smile, “that I owe the Smiths more than I first thought.”
“You owe us nothing,” Darcy replied gruffly.
Elizabeth shook her head. “Indeed not, sir. We would hope another might do the same for one of our sisters in such circumstances.” Her voice softened. “But I fear that so long as Mr. Wickham continues his dissolute ways, she may again find herself in danger.”
“I concur,” the colonel said. His tone hardened. “And I have a few ideas on how to prevent it.”
“What are they?” Darcy demanded.
The colonel studied him for a moment, and Elizabeth’s heart leapt in alarm, fearing Darcy’s eagerness had betrayed him. But when the colonel’s eyes flickered to her face, his expression only softened.
“You need not fear my censure,” he said quietly.
“I am not my parents. I have seen enough on the battlefield to know that courage and honor belong not to birth alone. My cousin trusts you, and your loyalty goes far beyond that of a hired servant or companion. I would not normally discuss my plans with those of your station, but in this case, I believe I shall make an exception. Georgiana has been fighting this battle far too long, and I will gladly work beside those who stand with her.”
Then, with a glimmer of humor, he added, “Besides—it is your fault my brains are scrambled, so I expect your assistance in devising a strategy.”
Elizabeth flushed, while Darcy’s lips twitched in spite of himself.
Together the three descended to the lower floor. The house was still and dim, the hush before morning fully broke. In the drawing room, Mrs. Reynolds sat before the fire, her knitting in her lap and a look of apology upon her kind face.