Chapter 16 Flight #2
“Yes, Mrs. Younge. I brought everything Fitzwilliam gave me.”
“Good. We shall use your money to pay for the chaise. Come along. Walk faster, and keep close to the hedge so no one sees us leave the house.”
Mrs. Younge hurried ahead, her pace so brisk that Georgiana often had to run a few steps to keep up. Pain throbbed in her arm. She rubbed it and winced. A dark purple bruise spread across her upper arm where she had struck the cabinet when Wickham shoved her.
Tears slipped down her cheeks. How had she been so mistaken about the man whom she had married?
He had ever been so kind, so obliging. Could the monster who had shoved her with such violence truly be the same gentleman who had courted her throughout the summer?
She could not understand the change, nor the man himself.
Mrs. Younge and Jenny halted at a crossroads.
“Girls, we must cross the street and may be recognized. Keep your heads down and walk as quickly as you are able. We shall cross into the narrow passage behind those houses and continue until we reach High Street. Come.”
They hurried on once more. Georgiana struggled to keep pace with the other two women, but at last they reached High Street and joined the bustle of the thoroughfare on their way to the King's Head.
The busy street eased her fears. She no longer felt so exposed as she had upon the lonely path behind the houses. When the King's Head came into view, hope stirred within her. Soon they would sit in a post chaise, leaving Ramsgate and Mr. Wickham behind.
Fresh tears rolled down her cheeks as she thought of the dreadful end to her lovely summer in Ramsgate. She should have known better than to believe a man as handsome and alluring as Mr. Wickham could feel any affection for her beyond her fortune.
Mrs. Younge stopped once more.
“I shall find seats for the two of you in the dining room. Order tea and biscuits while I arrange for a post chaise. Georgiana, your purse, if you please, dear. I shall need the money to pay for the chaise. Fortunately, we have not far to travel, or there would not be enough money between us.”
Georgiana searched through her reticule, now crammed with her jewels, Fitzwilliam's miniature, and several handkerchiefs. She found her purse and handed it to her companion.
“Georgiana, put those things into your portmanteau. Someone may think your reticule is full of money with it bulging so.”
“Yes, Mrs. Younge, I shall.”
“Come. Let us find a quiet corner where you may rest without being noticed.”
* * *
The chaise was being made ready, and Mrs. Younge sat opposite Georgiana, eating biscuits and drinking tea as though nothing had happened. Her gaze shifted to Jenny. The maid, too, ate her biscuits in silence.
“Georgiana, eat. Though it is only about seventy-two miles to Mayfair, we shall spend twelve or thirteen hours upon the road. Finish your biscuits. I have ordered a basket with boiled eggs, bread, and cheese. We shall not stop along the way, lest Wickham overtake us.”
Her gaze rested upon Georgiana as the girl cowered in terror.
“I do not believe he will, for he was exceedingly drunk and still drinking brandy when we left him. He will sleep for several hours, and that will give us our start. By the time he comes in search of us, we shall be beyond his reach.”
Georgiana drew comfort from those words. “Yes, Mrs. Younge. I shall try to eat.”
A young server approached the table with a basket.
“I should also like to purchase a bottle of Rhenish wine, or perhaps claret, for our journey,” Mrs. Younge said. “And three sturdy glasses suitable for travel.”
“Yes, mistress. We have claret or hock.”
“The claret, if you please.”
“Right away, mistress.”
* * *
The three women had traveled for two hours when Georgiana woke with a start as the chaise lurched around a bend. She was thrown from her corner and bumped into Jenny.
“Is everything well, Mrs. Younge?”
“Yes, my dear. We have reached Faversham.
I was told we should change horses here at the Crown Inn.
We shall not stop again until we reach Sittingbourne around four o'clock. We will use the necessary here, and perhaps I can purchase some pudding from the inn. Come along, girls. We have little time.”
An ostler handed them down from the chaise, and the two girls followed Mrs. Younge into the inn.
When Georgiana stepped out from the necessary, she found Mrs. Younge and Jenny waiting for her.
“We shall eat the pudding here and take tea to sustain us.”
“Mrs. Younge, what if Mr. Wickham should find us here?”
“You need not be afraid, dear. Mr. Wickham was so overcome with drink when we left him, I doubt he has slept it off. Come, let us have a bit to eat. Try to put away your fears.”
Georgiana followed the other two women into the dining room and took her seat while Mrs. Younge placed the order.
Her gaze drifted about the room. Everyone appeared contented, happy even. Families and travelers conversed in cheerful tones, laughing together over their meals. She alone carried a burden so heavy it brought tears to her eyes.
She struggled to master her emotions when the server approached with their tea and cake.
“Mistress, the pudding is being served. I shall bring it directly.”
Mrs. Younge asked, “Do you have any nuts we may take with us?”
“Yes, mistress. I shall have some wrapped for you and bring them with the pudding.”
Georgiana ate the pudding, thinking it the finest she had ever tasted.
Mrs. Younge stopped a server as he passed their table.
“Would you bring me a sheet of paper and a pencil, please?”
When he returned with them, she began writing.
After a moment, she glanced up. “Georgiana, eat some cake. We will not dine until we reach Rochester, close to six o’clock, and after that we shall have nothing more until tomorrow.”
“Yes, Mrs. Younge.”
Georgiana nibbled at her cake, and though she was not hungry, she finished it without complaint.
* * *
When Georgiana next awoke, darkness had fallen. The rattle of the chaise over the cobblestones had awakened her. They must have reached London.
She sat up and looked through the window. The lights of the city stretched before them.
“We made it, and Mr. Wickham did not follow us. Oh, I can hardly wait to see Fitzwilliam. What will he say when he learns everything?” She drew into the corner of the chaise and wept.