Chapter Eighteen
Douglas met them beside the Netherfield front steps. His expression appeared grave, even grim.
“What is it?” Darcy asked upon alighting, shifting over to permit Bingley out of the carriage.
In a low, intense voice, his cousin said, “Wickham was here, demanding to see Georgiana. Elliot threw him out.”
“By Jove,” Bingley said, as he assisted his sister to step out.
“What is it?” she asked. “I did not hear the colonel.”
“An intruder attempted to gain access to Netherfield,” Darcy explained in a terse voice.
“Oh!” she gasped, clutching onto her brother’s arm. “Is Georgiana all right?”
Darcy met his cousin’s somber gaze and his heart squeezed. “Is she?”
“She was frightened,” Douglas admitted. “Unfortunately, she heard him ride up and came out of her bedchamber to see who might be coming here so late at night. She was badly shaken.”
“I will go to her,” Miss Bingley said, starting up the steps.
“No, thank you.” Darcy’s sharp words brought her up short. He nodded his thanks for her willingness to help but he did not think Georgiana could be comforted by a woman who frightened her. “Do you need me here?” Darcy demanded of his cousin.
“No. You go to Georgiana. I am certain she longs for your reassuring presence.” Douglas turned to Miss Bingley. “I think you might be more comfortable if you went inside, Miss Bingley.”
“Is there anything I can do for you?” she asked, sounding worried to Darcy as he hurriedly climbed the steps.
“Brewster will look after us,” Douglas assured her. He indicated the land around the house. “We will make one more sweep of the grounds and then come inside.”
“Yes, Caroline,” Bingley said. “Do go inside.”
Darcy crossed the threshold and lost the thread of their dialogue. He took off his hat and gloves, put them on the side table in the entrance hall, and hurriedly climbed the stairs to his sister’s bedchamber. He thought she must have been petrified.
And I was not here! If only Georgiana had slept through the entire incident.
Darcy drew in a deep breath, then another, calming himself.
Hoping for what has not occurred serves no good purpose.
In spite of his personal admonition, he further chastised himself.
It was a foolish mistake not to send her back to London as soon as she got here.
Darcy forced down his self-recriminations and knocked lightly on her door. He heard movement inside and waited until the key turned in the lock and the door opened, revealing Farley. The bedchamber behind her had every candle and lamp lit.
“Sir,” she whispered, curtsying slightly. Opening the door wide, Farley stepped to one side. “The poor lamb has fallen asleep at last, sir.”
Darcy trod softly across the carpet to Georgiana’s bedside. She looked pale to him as she laid against the pillows. To his surprise, he spied Jeffry lying next to her. Darcy turned to look at Farley.
“When did Jeffry arrive?” he whispered.
“An hour ago, sir.”
He looked down at the bed and realized the guinea pig had disappeared.
“Where is he, sir?” Farley asked, stepping closer, wonder in her words. “Is he under the covers?”
“He appears to be gone,” Darcy said. He reached over and tidied the covers about his sister, patting them down around her. He found no lump—Jeffry was not there.
“That’s a shame, that is, sir. He’s been ever so useful in keeping Miss Georgiana calm.”
“Good. Thank you for staying with her. You may go to your own bed, Farley,” Darcy said, turning to take her chair from where it sat next to the round table and putting it close beside the bed. “I will sit up with her in case she wakens.”
“Yes, sir,” Farley softly said, picking up the tray off the table. “Good night, sir.”
“Good night.”
Darcy listened to her close the door behind her but did not rise to turn the key in the lock.
Wickham would be long gone, either chased off by Douglas and the male servants, or he had left immediately after he had been thrown out.
He clasped his hands between his knees, his head down, and cursed the man he had called a friend throughout his childhood.
“You cannot call him out,” Georgiana said from the bed.
Darcy’s head came up. He left his chair and sat on the side of her bed. She reached for him and he held her in his arms.
“Promise me, Fitz,” she begged softly into his shoulder. “I could not bear it if anything happened to you.”
“Nothing is going to happen to me, dearest,” he said, putting as much reassurance in his voice as he could. “I promise not to engage in any duels.”
She relaxed further into his embrace. “Thank you. Thank you. I am so relieved.”
“I am sorry you felt anxious tonight. I should have warned you I saw him nearby.”
“Where did you see him?”
“In St. Albans, when Bingley and I went there to get the teacups,” he explained. “We stepped out of the shop, and he happened to be walking by.” Darcy felt her shiver. He tightened his arms.
After taking a shaky breath, she said, “You must have been surprised.”
“I was furious,” he admitted. “I cannot bear the sight of him.”
“Was he in uniform?”
“Yes. I had not heard that he joined the militia.”
She pulled back a little so she could look in his face. “I am glad I saw him and he did not see me. I do not want him to know how he affects me.”
“You are right to hide it from him. He will only get pleasure from your distress.”
Georgiana nodded, and then she frowned. “Did you ask me to come here before, or after you saw him?”
“Before.” Darcy stroked a lock of hair back from her face. “I went to London to try and stop you from coming—I thought I would be faster than sending a letter.”
“But we had already left.”
“I considered sending you away immediately, but I decided the chance of you seeing him here would be slim since you were only staying a few weeks.” His jaw tightened.
“I would not have met Mary or the other Bennet sisters if I had gone back to London right after I arrived. And,” she reminded him, poking his chest with a finger, “you would not have gotten me a puppy.”
“I might have,” he argued, grinning.
“But it would not have been Flora,” Georgiana protested, pulling away so she could lie back on her pillows.
Nodding at her assertion, he asked, “Is that what you mean to call her?”
“Mary suggested it.”
“Flora is a fine name.”
She picked at her covers, saying, “Are you thinking of sending me back to London?”
Darcy frowned. “I—”
“Please do not,” she begged, clasping her hands together against her chest. “I am supposed to go and see Flora today—I hoped Mary would come with me.”
Darcy rose and tugged his waistcoat back into place as he took a turn about the bedchamber, thinking about the potential danger of keeping his sister in Meryton.
“If you cannot accompany us, then perhaps Elliot could come with us?” Georgiana suggested. “Or Cousin Douglas? No one in uniform would accost us if a colonel were there.”
Smiling grimly, Darcy stopped pacing and looked at his sister. Perhaps Miss Elizabeth is right. If Georgiana grows accustomed to the possibility of seeing Wickham, she will not be anxious during her first season…but I do not trust that the blaggard will keep his distance.
“There is much in what you say,” Darcy admitted. “I will talk with Douglas. I must go to him. Will you be able to sleep without someone being in the room with you?”
“I am not a child,” she said, pulling the covers up to her chin. Glancing around, she asked, “Where is Jeffry?”
“He left.”
“Oh.”
Darcy indicated all the candles. “Shall I snuff these out?” Georgiana hesitated. “I will turn the lamp down low.”
She nodded, biting her lip.
Darcy turned down the lamp, snuffed out the candles, keeping the one beside her bed for last. He snuffed it out, then leaned over and kissed her forehead.
“There,” he said, smiling as he straightened. “Is that enough light?”
“Yes,” she said, nodding rapidly. “I am going to think about my puppy as I go to sleep.”
“A sound idea.” Darcy turned and left the bedchamber, expecting to hear her call out to him to stay, but she did not. Progress. Just the idea of the puppy is soothing her.
He found Bingley and Douglas waiting in the library for him, standing in front of the fire, sipping brandy.
“How is she?” Douglas asked anxiously.
“Better than I feared,” Darcy admitted, coming forward and accepting a glass of brandy from Bingley.
“Good,” Douglas said, his lips tightening. “In the morning, I will write to his Colonel in Brighton so I can report on that man’s behavior.”
“It would be excellent if you can get him to recall Wickham to Brighton until the regiment removes to Meryton,” Darcy said, hearing the grimness in his voice. “By then, Georgiana will be back in London.”
“I will do my best,” Douglas promised, his expression determined, “without giving the colonel any information that could harm Georgiana’s future.”
“Indeed,” Darcy murmured. “Now, explain everything that happened tonight.”
“Did your sister not tell you?” Bingley asked.
“I did not ask her,” Darcy said. “Now, Douglas, if you please.”
His cousin readily gave him a precise report of what had occurred earlier in the evening. “I took the grooms and my batman out into the grounds to search for Wickham, but we found no trace of him. I do not think he tarried.”
Darcy’s hand flexed around his brandy glass. “If he comes here again, I am going to give him a good thrashing.”
Bingley said, “Here, here.”
Douglas set his empty glass down on the mantle. “You will not call him out.”
Darcy kicked the raised hearth. “I will not. I promised Georgiana, and I am not such a fool as to cause an even greater scandal.”
“I am that sorry such a thing should happen while you are here at my home,” Bingley said mournfully. “Poor Georgiana.”
“Enough,” Darcy said, placing a hand on Bingley’s shoulder and squeezing it.
“We must treat Georgiana as though nothing of import has occurred. She must not dwell on this unfortunate event. Tomorrow I will take Miss Mary and Georgiana to visit her new puppy. I wish her to concentrate on happy anticipation.”