Darcy rode with a fury he had held in check since the express arrived in London all those days ago. He knew he ought to have left his mother in Town and bolted on his best steed to Rosings. Elizabeth would be safe in his arms now. She would be, he was certain, for he could not live without her.
There were two men who would meet a very unhappy end once she was returned to him. Wickham would be fortunate to remain amongst the living and the parson could be removed from his living at Rosings. His aunt had made a grievous error; one she must know he would not allow to stand.
The road passed mile after mile but his anger and desire for revenge would not. He rode into Town with a singular thought in mind; he must find where his Elizabeth was being held. In a place as large as London, he would do well to seek his favorite cousin’s assistance. If there was a man George Wickham feared greater than he, it was Richard Fitzwilliam.
He rode directly to Matlock House, hoping to find his cousin. When the butler answered, he went straight to the study and began pacing about the room. Glancing to the man, he paused and spoke. “Please tell Colonel Fitzwilliam I have come.”
The butler nodded his understanding and quit the study. Darcy poured himself claret from the cart before him. He would be surprised if his mother had not left Netherfield for Darcy House after his abrupt departure. Had she heard the name Wickham connected to Miss Elizabeth’s trouble, Lady Anne Darcy would not rest until the score was settled.
He drank deeply and recalled the debacle at Ramsgate. His Georgie had been so beautiful then, so young and full of promise. Until that cad seduced her with his sweet lies. Miss Younge had participated in the deceit and Georgie had barely escaped their horrid schemes. He thought now of how the pair had stayed in Lambton well past the time they ought to have moved along. With the large sum he had paid to keep the Ramsgate scandal secret, the peaceful Lambton should not have held them long. But it had.
He placed his cup upon the table and felt the crushing blow of Georgie’s death once more. The evil Wickham and his lady had seen Georgie about town and followed her home. All while he was away in Hertfordshire with Bingley. She had written to him of their lingering presence but he knew their mother would keep Georgie safe. Yet, he blamed himself.
And now as then, he had been too far away to offer protection when a young woman he loved dearly had been placed in harm’s way. The pain and frustration of it burned hotly as he poured himself another drink.
Colonel Fitzwilliam entered the study and stopped at the sight of his cousin in such a state. His ready tease disappeared as Mr. Darcy glanced up and fixed him with a desperate stare.
“Once again I find myself compelled to retribution by the wicked ways of George Wickham. He has kidnapped a young lady who has become a particular friend of my mother. Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn, the sister of Charles Bingley’s wife.”
Richard stood beside Mr. Darcy and sighed deeply. His levity gone, he merely shook his head. “Whatever you should require, I would supply in great measure. Especially if I am to throttle Wickham.”
Mr. Darcy explained all that had happened since Elizabeth had left Brambling after her father’s letter. And the news of the Netherfield carriage being set upon by Wickham and Younge on the way to London. “She must be here, but where?”
Richard thought for but a moment. “The only place Wickham would hide young women in Town would be one of the flop houses by the docks. If we were to search them, I am certain we would find Miss Bennet.”
Mr. Darcy hastened from his study with Colonel Fitzwilliam only a step behind. “We shall not rest until we have searched every hole in London.”
Elizabeth arrived at Darcy House and banged upon the door until the butler answered. He took one look at her and determined to deny her entry. She knew she must look a fright.
She took the letter Lady Anne had sent her from this very house and held it out for his approval. “There is a terrible man and woman presently holding my maid against her will. Round up your bravest footmen. I can tell them where she is being held. We must hurry!”
The butler moved with haste after having seen the letter from his mistress. In less than a quarter of an hour, three footmen left Darcy House with the task of rescuing the maid Eleanor.
Elizabeth paced the parlor waiting for the maid to be safely delivered. The minutes dragged into eternity and she nearly gave up hope of seeing the young woman again.
If only she had listened to Jane and remained at Netherfield! Her desire to be as far from Rosings Park as possible haunted her still. Even here, she imagined Lady Catherine arriving with Mr. Collins to see her back to Kent.
Her own trouble seemed nothing in the face of Eleanor’s plight and she kept watch through the lonely hour, alert and jumping at every sound, no matter how inconsequential. She prayed fervently for Eleanor’s safe return. Sally Younge was dangerous. Her obsession with George Wickham had long since taken a deadly turn.
How would she tell Lady Anne and Mr. Darcy of the woman’s words of Georgiana being made to pay? As she crossed to the window to distract her mind from the situation, she wished Mr. Darcy was in Town.
The butler rushed into the parlor and Elizabeth startled. She followed him into the hallway. The footmen entered from the back of Darcy House, one carrying Eleanor. She was limp and so pale. Elizabeth fought back tears. She sent the one footman upstairs with two maids to put Eleanor to bed. The others, she sent for a doctor. She ran up the stairs and bade the butler stay by the front door after he posted men to the rear of Darcy House.
Elizabeth entered Eleanor’s room and sat beside the stricken maid. Eleanor’s eyes fixed on a far wall and she could not speak. Elizabeth dismissed the other maids to stand outside the door and stayed with Eleanor until the doctor appeared to give his examination. The young woman grew worse by the moment and the doctor was certain she had been poisoned. He recalled how another young lady of this house had met her end, a very similar circumstance. He would seek out Mr. Darcy and have a word.
No sooner had he left the room than poor Eleanor succumbed. Elizabeth was certain of her killer. The poison had been meant for her. In her rage that Elizabeth had escaped and at George Wickham’s fickle heart, Sally Younge had taken her measure against Eleanor.
Elizabeth sat with the body, wondering where the Darcys might be. Jane had said they had left for Rosings in a search for her. What a terrible thing to come home and find such mayhem at their door.
She called the maids from the hallway to see to Eleanor’s body. The desire to busy her feet and hands delayed her heartbreak for a time but she knew the dam would soon break and her emotions would overcome her. She was exhausted, lost, and in a state of utter disbelief.
She would send word to Jane right away about Eleanor, for she was certain the young girl had parents or family in Hertfordshire and Mr. Darcy would have her taken home again.
At last, she climbed the stairs with Betsy by her side. The young maid she’d first met at Pemberley had come along to Darcy House and Elizabeth was grateful for her familiar presence.
Betsy had her bath ready and tea on the table by the fireplace. Elizabeth moved slowly, the shock of her day blurring the routine tasks that were ingrained in her memory. Betsy combed out her hair and helped her undress.
Not half an hour later, Elizabeth lay under the softest sheets she’d ever known. Her eyelids fell shut before another sob could escape her throat.
Mr. Darcy arrived home late in the night but Richard continued his search. They had decided Wickham or Younge would seek Darcy House if they indeed were in Town. He made his way to his study fully intent upon involving the Constable after checking with his butler who seemed to have retired. When Darcy looked to the clock on the mantle, he was surprised to find the hour was indeed quite late.
A small cry from somewhere in the room startled him and he turned, his eyes accustomed to the darkness, to search out the trespasser.
He approached the sofa slowly from behind, wary of a trap and gasped in shock as he saw the lovely spill of gently curling chestnut hair against the sofa.
Elizabeth lay sleeping safely in his study at Darcy House!
He rounded the sofa quietly and knelt before her, his arms longing to hold her tightly. Elizabeth blinked in her sleep and sat upright, her face tear stained.
She bolted upright, a cry lodged in her throat. Mr. Darcy gathered her in his arms and rocked her tenderly, wondering how she’d escaped Wickham.
Elizabeth trembled with relief to be safely in Mr. Darcy’s arms. “I tried to sleep upstairs, but Eleanor is there and she’s dead. Tis all my fault. I never should have stopped for them on the road to London.”
Her tears began again and Mr. Darcy’s heart broke at the horrible grief visited anew upon his house. He stroked Elizabeth’s hair and allowed her to exhaust her tears.
They sat together, just that way, quietly, until Richard strode in with Wickham and Younge bound tightly together.
Elizabeth jumped from her seat and lunged at Sally Younge. “You killed Eleanor and you killed Miss Georgiana. God have mercy on you, because I will not!”
Mr. Darcy grabbed Elizabeth and held her tightly in his arms. “Is this true, Richard? Have they killed my sister and an innocent maid?”
Sally Younge laughed bitterly and spat at Mr. Darcy, almost hitting her mark. “Too afraid to address me directly, are you? I did kill your precious sister. She and Wickham were biding their time until they could marry. She went to her death knowing you tried to pay him off. And you left her and your mother vulnerable at Pemberley where it was easy enough for me to slip in and make sure her tea was just right. You’d be without Lady Anne if I’d only been quicker.” She laughed a high, wicked laugh that sent chills across Elizabeth’s body.
Mr. Darcy’s grasp on Elizabeth loosened and it was her turn to hold him back. “Mr. Darcy, you must not. She has admitted her guilt and we shall see that she pays for her wickedness.”
George Wickham struggled to escape Richard’s grasp at Sally Younge’s evil admission.
“You killed Georgiana Darcy? You blind, stupid woman! We might have lived a much better life had you thought with your daft head and not your evil heart.”
Richard knocked the man unconscious at his outburst and tightened the ropes that bound him to Sally Younge. He turned back to Darcy with a knowing glance before dragging his prey from the room. Elizabeth did not miss the meaning that passed between them. Charges would be brought, after Richard took his measure, but at least Elizabeth was safe and sound.