Coming to a halt in front of Burnham House, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam lit from the carriage and took the few steps to the door in a single stride. Ignoring his cousin's inhospitable failure to put out the door knocker, he rapped on the door with his bare knuckles. Having no immediate answer, he knocked again more loudly. A tenacious third try was finally rewarded with a greeting from Jamison. Richard knew that the opening of the door signified Darcy had finally agreed to see him, and he made a direct line for the study where he knew his cousin would be entrenched.
“Richard.” Darcy's greeting was unquestionably chilly.
“I am obviously intruding,” Richard smiled placidly, “but I have come at mother's bidding, hence the motivation for my persistence, you see. She is quite unhappy that you have not accepted her invitation to dine at Tipton this afternoon. Of course she was hoping you would attend church with the family beforehand, as well. She sent the invitation two days ago.”
“Yes, I know. Please extend my regrets to her ladyship. I am only in town for a few days on pressing business. Georgiana is not with me and I have a previous engagement that prevents me from attending either church or dinner today. Another time, perhaps.”
Darcy's distracted manner did not go unnoticed. From their boyhood days, Richard had discovered an uncanny ability to read his cousin's moods, something that was always vexing to Darcy, but very useful at times such as this.
“Hmm, I detect a definite note of evasiveness in you, Darcy. Is there anything you care to tell me?”
“No, there is not.”
“Hmm,” Richard mused again. “Quite unlike you to turn down one of mother's invitations. This engagement must be very important, indeed.”
“It is none of your business, Richard. I thank you for coming, and I am sorry to upset Lady Eleanor's plans, but it cannot be helped. If you will excuse me, I must be going. Once again, please give my apologies to my aunt and say that I shall visit her when I am next in town.”
“Very well, if that is your final word, I shall convey the message; but be prepared to explain yourself when next you see her,” he warned.
Richard stood deceptively idle as Darcy gathered a few papers from his desk, looked them over briefly, and then tucked them into the pocket of his coat. The action was not wasted on his cousin, who had caught a discerning glimpse of the topmost paper and realized it was some sort of communication from Magdalen House. Richard's astonishment was immediate. What sort of business would take him to THAT place? To be charitable is one thing, particularly after Georgiana's disastrous brush last summer, but to patronize such a charity in person? What could possess him to do such a thing?
Richard had never been to the infamous institution in St. George's Field himself, but he had heard enough of the dissolute form of genteel entertainment from some of the other officers to make him wonder at his cousin's purpose. It was not like Darcy to mix with the coarser elements of the ton who thought nothing of ogling penitent prostitutes and fallen innocents of society as they attended Sunday services.
Thoughts of pressing the matter were promptly abandoned at seeing Darcy's increasingly guarded look. Besides, Richard smiled to himself, there was a better way to really find out what his cousin was up to.
* * * *
Tense and anxious, Darcy sat forward in the modest, nondescript hack and watched his progress through the open window. He had purposely chosen to hire out in order to remain as inconspicuous as possible when he arrived at his destination. Absently, he observed the view as it changed from affluent neighborhoods and manicured parks into a jumble of crowded shops and dingy warehouses, and it was not long before the carriage crossed over the Thames at Blackfriar's Bridge, bringing St. George's Field into view.
The concern in Darcy's brow deepened as he recognized the moment they crossed the invisible line dividing the affluent lifestyle that abounded north of the river from the squalor and poverty of London's south end. The streets were dirty and ill-maintained – evidenced by the sudden jolt as a rear wheel struck a deep rut. The same desperate neglect was reflected in the faces of the people Darcy saw outside the carriage.
Obvious poverty and hopelessness pressed down on the people wandering the streets – the unwanted dregs of society. A fresh pang of acute guilt stabbed at his heart. That his pride and arrogance had brought Elizabeth to such a place was intolerable. He silently renewed his vow to make amends – whatever the cost to himself.
Within minutes, the driver slowed the carriage in front of the address Darcy had given him. They passed in front of a line of trees, obviously planted to prevent the prying eyes of those passing by from observing the activity of the large, two-story structure behind, and then turned in at the first of two stone gates. Darcy saw that the building facing the street was one of four which formed a quadrangle with a spacious center containing well-kept grounds and a large fountain.
The carriage's progress was reduced to a crawl when it joined a long line of slow-moving carriages that were carrying their occupants toward the octangular chapel erected at one of the back corners of the square. Darcy's stomach tightened in disgust at the number of supercilious church-goers. It mortified him that he would be numbered among them.
He waited impatiently as one by one, the carriages deposited their occupants, then moved on to find a place along the broad, cobbled drive that circled back to the second gate before opening again onto the tumult of the street beyond.
When it was his turn, Darcy exited the carriage with a staid countenance and moved toward the chapel doors. He had not taken three steps when he heard a familiar voice beside him.
“I see you prefer the repentant ramblings of – who is it today?” Richard whispered conspiratorially while reading the pamphlet placed in his hand by the footman posted at the door, “Ah, Mr. Roberts – than make her ladyship happy? Rather hazardous, is it not?”
“What are you doing here?” Darcy hissed.
“I might ask the same of you,” his cousin retorted. “I did not know you had such an eager interest in charity work. Perhaps it would be interesting to see what it is you do.”
“I do not take kindly to being followed, Richard. You would do better to employ your time elsewhere.”
“On the contrary, my dear cousin! I have nothing better to do than see what you are about – and it does look intriguing.”
Darcy gave him a withering look. As usual, Richard was tenaciously stubborn when he was on the trail of a mystery, and the timing of his cousin's interference was disastrously awkward.
“Look, just go away and I will explain everything tomorrow.”
“I think not, Darcy,” Richard's face turned uncommonly serious. “An institution for penitent prostitutes and misguided maidens is not the best place for any respectable gentleman to be seen. The sight of a uniform by your side may draw away some of the speculation since a soldier's – experience – in these matters is something to be expected.”
“I am well able to take care of my own reputation; but I will not draw any further attention by arguing the point. Just stay out of the way.”
The two men filed into the spacious chapel with the flow of the crowd. Taking their place, they found themselves seated but three rows back from the low railing that separated the curious onlookers from the fair residents of Magdalen House. The pews in which the visitors sat were not set to face the pulpit, which rose to a lofty height above the congregation, but instead put them in direct view of the unfortunate young women placed on display. Darcy's jaw clenched with renewed disgust as he noted the blatant appeal for sympathy – and financial support.
“Good heavens!” Richard blurted in a low tone, “that young girl on the end there is Lord Marlborough's niece! She cannot be more than fourteen years! I met her at a Christmas dinner last year. Quite pretty, but very shy, as I remember. I could not get her to speak more than two words to me.”
Darcy raised his eyes briefly to the girl. Even with her golden-brown hair pulled back into a simple knot at the nape of her neck, she was indeed very pretty – and young. A fleeting frown crossed Darcy's brow at the sudden thought of how close in age she was to Georgiana. Clothed in the dull, grayish-brown gown worn by all the girls, she seemed quite small and pale. The ordeal of the public display was obviously, and quite naturally, overwhelming to her. She did not look at anyone, but kept her eyes fixed upon the low railing that divided the room, trying her best to ignore the unrestrained, gaping stares of the visitors.
Turning to look at the rest of the girls assembled, Darcy quickly searched their faces. He did not want to see Elizabeth's face among them, yet he could not stop himself from looking. That she was not there did not ease his pain. Those assembled for the afternoon's sermon were only a representation of the more than 200 girls living there. It was almost too much to contemplate the combined misery Magdalen House represented. He pulled his mind away from what Elizabeth must be suffering and tried to concentrate on what Richard was saying.
“She was visiting from the country – Norfolk, as I recall. Her family must have given her up. She was under Marlborough's protection. He should have done better by her, but then he never has been one to show much understanding beyond his own interests. Tragic for the poor girl.”
Darcy's mouth hardened bitterly. “Innocents thrown in with practiced prostitutes – what hope have they of ever overcoming their error when they are forced into such company?”
“Actually,” Richard whispered, “they are divided by classes of sorts. I doubt the niece would be exposed to the, um, more experienced ones.” He caught Darcy's questioning look out of the corner of his eye. “I do not have it first hand. Some of the officers have talked on the subject from time to time.”
The commencement of Mr. Roberts' discourse prevented further conversation and Darcy spent the duration of the sermon with eyes focused on the back side of the bench in front of him. The petition for the penitent souls to turn from their sinful state and be redeemed pulled at his heart. Yes, a soul as precious as Elizabeth's deserves to be rescued from the hell to which Wickham has consigned it.
Adding a generous sum to the collection as it passed in front of him, Darcy glanced once again at the girls now singing hymns, and shuddered to think how close Georgiana had come to sharing that same fate. Not that she would have been consigned to such a place; but she would have shared the same fallen state all the same.
As Mr. Roberts came to an end of the services, Darcy breathed a slow, deep breath. The assault his senses had just experienced would be nothing compared to the interview that was about to follow. For all the time he had had in the three days since leaving Hertfordshire, he still did not know exactly what he would say to Elizabeth when he faced her. He could only hope his willingness and good intentions would be enough to overcome her previous objections to him.
Quitting the chapel and its atmosphere of entertainment, Darcy made his way to the administration offices in the main building, Richard following silently beside him. After a quick inquiry of an elderly man at the door, they found the offices of the governors with little difficulty. As they entered the anteroom, a nervous young clerk with spectacles perched atop his long, narrow nose rose from an equally narrow desk and greeted them. After introductions were made, Darcy stated his business and then waited as the clerk announced his arrival at the door of a Mr. Charles Wray.
Ignoring Richard's entreating look, Darcy left his unwelcome companion standing in the anteroom and entered Mr. Wray's office. The governor, a man of some years, with graying hair and a rotund figure, rose from his desk and came forward a little too eagerly to meet Darcy.
“Mr. Darcy, please come in. I am pleased to meet you. Pleased, indeed! It is an honor to have a man of your position and place in society show an interest in our humble endeavors. May I introduce you to Mrs. Gilman, our head matron?”
“How do you do, madam.”
“Very well, thank you, Mr. Darcy,” the tall, thin woman replied crisply in spite of the governor's meaningful look. “Mr. Wray tells me you are here to inquire after one of our girls.”
“Yes, I am,” Darcy began. “I would like – ”
“Before you go any further, I must tell you there is a strict policy of no contact or communication between the girls and anyone outside her ward – not even servants or apprentices – without a leave first had and signed by either the president or two members of the committee of governors.”
Darcy shifted impatiently at the woman's evident sense of self-importance. “Very well, what needs to be done?”
“Under normal circumstances, it could be accomplished in very little time, once you have established your connection to the lady in question. However, those circumstances would be at our regular meeting of the committee, which is the first Thursday of every month. That is when they review the petitions for new girls. Unfortunately for you, Mr. Darcy, that was Thursday last and the president, as well as most of the governors – except for Mr. Wray here – has already left. They will not reconvene until next month.”
Darcy was stunned. Next month! He could not wait that long. He worked to contain the exasperation at having endured public speculation and a very contrived sermon only to be disappointed now. Bitter frustration drove him to his feet, but common sense kept his voice calm and even.
“Look, I understand the need to protect these young ladies from the outside world, but it is very important that I speak with someone in particular. I am sent by her family who wish for her return.” He looked from one to the other with a meaningful pause that would not be mistaken. “Surely there is something that can be done; an exception under the circumstances?”
Darcy had not been mistaken in his appraisal of the situation. The portly governor and head matron exchanged a significant look.
“Mr. Darcy,” Mr. Wray gave him a toothy grin. “You seem to be a man accustomed to action. We do not wish to disappoint you. I believe there may be a way in which we can help.”
“I would be most happy to hear it,” Darcy replied.
“Ahem…well, we do have instances where certain exceptions are made for an elite assembly of our patrons.”
“I see,” Darcy smiled tightly. “And how elite are these patrons? I assume they are highly valued for their contributions.”
“Oh, yes, to be sure,” Mr. Wray smiled in anticipation. “It varies, of course, depending upon the situation of the patron, but they are often as generous as, say, one hundred pounds.”
There was not the slightest change in Darcy's expression, causing Mr. Wray to wish he had named a larger sum.
“I trust you will accept my draft, Mr. Wray?”
“To be sure, Mr. Darcy; most happily! While you are fulfilling your generous contribution, I shall have Mr. Pratt retrieve the required information. What is the name of the young lady to whom you wish to speak?”
“Her name is Elizabeth Bennet.”
Mr. Wray lowered a pudgy hand onto the bell sitting on the corner of his desk, summoning the clerk from the anteroom. Immediately, the young man was at the door, holding his hands nervously in front of his chest.
“Mr. Pratt,” the governor said, “be so good as to fetch the records for Elizabeth Bennet.”
“Yes, sir, Mr. Wray; and the date?”
Mr. Wray raised a bushy eyebrow at Darcy.
“I believe she arrived sometime the middle of June,” Darcy reported.
“Very good, sir. I shall only be a moment.”
The young man then ducked back through the door, muttering Elizabeth's name to himself. In a surprisingly short time, he reappeared and whispered softly into Mr. Wray's ear, to which the portly gentleman responded with his own whisper to Mrs. Gilman. Darcy watched with growing concern as the clerk and matron left together. An even shorter time lapsed before Mrs. Gilman stepped back into the room with a frown and gave Mr. Wray a slight shake of her head.
“Well, sir,” the older man turned apprehensively toward Darcy, “it appears we have a bit of a problem.”
“What is it? Has something happened? Is she well?” Darcy asked anxiously.
“That I cannot say, Mr. Darcy. The young woman for whom you are searching is not here.”
“Not here? Do you mean she has left?”
“No, sir. I mean we have no record of her ever having been at Magdalen House at all.”
* * * *
Richard peered at Darcy from across the room, trying to make out his cousin's pensive mood. Not a single word had been uttered during their return from the excursion to Magdalen House, not even when they entered Darcy's study and shut the door.
“Are you going to tell me what the devil is going on?”
“Hmm?”
“And what has Miss Elizabeth Bennet to do with Magdalen House?”
Darcy's head jerked up at her name. “What do you mean?”
“Only that I overheard the clerk say her name as he was searching through his records. Darcy, what is all this about?”
“I am not ready to discuss the matter, Richard.”
“That much is obvious, but I think you had better. Mother will be on one of her crusades when word gets back to her where we were today. I cannot be of any help if you will not tell me anything.”
“There is nothing to tell. I will manage Lady Eleanor if news of our visit reaches her.”
“Oh, it will, I have no doubt. Lord Matlock's son and nephew taking a peek at the fair Magdalens? A nice bit of gossip for the ton. And you know how protective mother is of the family reputation. One of the few traits she shares with Aunt Catherine, I am afraid.” Richard stared at the toe of his polished boot, mentally appreciating his mother's refined approach to things compared to that of Lady Catherine, when a sudden thought shot through him. “Say, Darcy, does this business have anything to do with our visit to Rosings last spring?”
Darcy silently cursed his cousin's shrewd reasoning abilities and tried to dismiss the subject with an evasive reply. “I cannot imagine why you think it should.”
“Well, Miss Bennet was there at the same time,” Richard persisted, “and you did meet on several occasions as she was walking the grounds. You said so yourself. Hmm, now that I think about it, you were quite out of sorts the day we left – and still are as far as I can tell. Yes, I believe it is beginning to make sense!”
“It is not what you think!” Darcy snapped.
“Oh, no? Magdalen House? What should I think? Please, enlighten me, cousin.”
“Richard, it is a very long and complicated story.”
Settling into one of the leather armchairs, Richard raised his brows stubbornly. “I have all day.”
“I am asking you to let it go. This day has been difficult enough for me already.”
“That may be, but from the looks of it, I would say you have got yourself in pretty deep. It should not be too bad, though. Luckily, Miss Bennet is not known in our circles and we can quash most of the rumors easily enough. Mother will have to be told, of course; but she can arrange for you to attend an engagement or two in town. With a little effort on your part, it will only amount to a few hushed whispers and be forgotten in no time. I am certain mother can…what?” he asked when he saw Darcy's incredulous stare.
“Do you really think me so cruel…so heartless as to even consider such a scheme, if I had been the cause of her distress? But the family need not worry on my account. I tell you unequivocally, there was no impropriety.”
“Oh, really? Then what was the purpose of your little outing this afternoon? I know you too well, cousin, and I think we have few secrets between us. Miss Bennet, whose company I believe you enjoyed on several occasions, was a refreshingly delightful diversion during our visit to Rosings this year. It was a bit unusual for you, I admit, but she was very charming and I quite understand if you may have had a lapse in judgment.”
“Richard, I have done nothing to compromise Miss Bennet. Do you hear me? Nothing!”
“If that is true, then why Magdalen House?”
Darcy slumped into the chair next to Richard. “I do not have all the details. I was hoping to know more after my visit today, but they knew nothing of her. All I know at present is that she has been compromised by someone we both know very well – George Wickham.”
“The devil you say! I knew we should have taken care of him last summer when we had the chance.”
“Yes, but we did not. And I did nothing to prevent him from preying on other innocents. Now Miss Bennet is paying the price and I must do something.”
“What are you saying?” Richard sat up in sudden concern.
“I am saying that I must do what I can to make it right. That is, if I can find her. She seems to have vanished.”
“Vanished? All the better for you if she is not around. Darcy, you cannot blame yourself for Wickham's actions…or hers. It is not your business.”
“But it is. I told you it was complicated,” Darcy kept his eyes focused on Richard as he spoke. “I have a personal interest in Miss Bennet, very personal. If I am successful in finding her, I intend to offer her marriage.”
Richard stared at him in utter dismay. “Are you mad? Even if the present circumstances did not make it impossible, think of what you are saying! She has – or had – little but her charms to recommend her, and now even that is gone!”
“There was a time I would have agreed with you. In fact, I struggled for some months with her family, her connections, and her situation in general.” Darcy paused, Richard's obvious confusion bringing a cheerless smile to his lips. “Yes, she was, in my opinion, decidedly beneath my own very favorable position. And, in my arrogance and conceit, I thought I was quite above her; but I have since come to a better understanding of her character and I now find it is I who would be the fortunate one if she were to accept me.”
“Of course she would accept you, if you are foolish enough to offer!” Richard snorted derisively. “There is not a woman in all of England who would not, particularly a woman of her station.”
“You are wrong on that count. It pains me to say it, but I am afraid she already has.”
“What?” Richard stared, trying to follow the conversation. “She already has what?”
“Refused me. That night at Rosings when you stopped me on the stairs, I had just returned from Hunsford Cottage where I asked her to marry me, and she refused.”
“Refused you?! Impossible! How could she…what were her reasons?”
“Where shall I start?” Darcy stared dolefully into his hands. “If you will recall her comments at the piano-forte condemning my actions in Hertfordshire, you will see my behavior had decided her long before she ever got to Rosings, and rightfully so. I was proud and disagreeable – quite arrogant, actually – when we first met. In my defense, I will say that it was too soon after Georgiana's near-disaster for me to affect any pleasure at an assembly; but that was not the only fault counted against me. She had discovered my part in separating Bingley from her sister, the knowledge of which severely diminished her already low opinion of my character. And last of all, there was Wickham. He saw an opportunity to capitalize on his lies and shocking tales of abuse at my hands, and I had given her no reason to think them untrue. He manipulated her compassionate nature to gain her sympathy. I all but pushed her into his arms.”
“Even so,” Richard argued, “her natural inclinations for kindness and consideration, which I have observed first hand, tells me she was an easy target for someone like Wickham. You cannot blame yourself for that.”
“Yes, I can. I said nothing of Wickham's reputation while I was in Hertfordshire. It was only after her rejection that I wrote a letter revealing the truth. I wanted to vindicate myself by exposing his true character. Perhaps I should not have, but I went so far as to relate his attempt on Georgiana.”
“Darcy, was that wise?”
“I think you know she would never harm Georgiana. I wanted her to comprehend the grave danger of his company; but I fear it was too late.”
“It is unfortunate, and Wickham is a plague, to be sure; but you cannot possibly think to damage your own reputation and standing by some misguided notion of honor. You must consider your obligations here. If Miss Bennet had money of her own or the proper connections, that would be one thing, but she does not. More importantly, I cannot believe you would marry without some kind of affection. To marry someone who would only take you for your money is exactly what you have been avoiding for years. And from what you have just told me, she does not even like you. Take her under your protection and provide a comfortable living for her, if you must; but do not marry her. You cannot condemn yourself to such a miserable life!”
Darcy's face reflected the turmoil of his mind. “A miserable life? I would agree with you except for one thing – I love her, Richard. I have for some time. Why do you think I offered in Kent?”
“But she rejected you! You will get over it in time.”
“That is what I thought, but it has been months now and no matter what I do, the attraction grows stronger. Even Wickham's atrocity cannot drive her from my heart.”
“Think what you are saying. Think of the family. Even without this…difficulty, it would have been next to impossible; but now that she has been compromised, it is out of the question. What will you say to my parents, and Lady Catherine? What will you say to Georgiana?”
“You are well aware that I am not dependent upon the wishes of the family. I do not need permission. You will all have to accept my decision, whatever it may be. And as for Georgiana, it was she, in fact, who set me on this course.”
“She knows?!” Richard's voice rose in anger. “After all she has been through, you exposed her to this?”
“It could not be helped. She heard the rumors before I did,” Darcy explained. “Georgiana has changed, grown up, these past months, Richard. The experience we thought would destroy her last summer has made her stronger, more compassionate – and amazingly insightful. It was she who convinced me to follow my heart; and that is what I am going to do whether I have the family's support or not.”
Richard studied Darcy's passionate expression before answering. “Is there no way I can dissuade you from this ruinous path?”
“You have known me all my life. Do you honestly think you can persuade me to abandon the woman I love to a life of wretched penury?”
“I understand your feelings, I do. But would it not be better to have the scandal die down before you do anything? Give it some time. There is no hurry.”
“Actually, there is. There is a complication that requires me to find her as soon as possible.”
Richard groaned. “There is more?”
“At first, I had thought it was only a matter of her reputation and that perhaps her father had sent her away in anger; but now, I fear it is much worse.” Darcy struggled to speak the words that until now had been only intangible thoughts. He turned a grim face to the one person in the world he could trust completely. “Magdalen House has no record of her, and that can only mean one thing. Their policy is such that – ”
“They will not take in a girl who is already with child,” Richard finished for him in a flash of understanding. “Darcy, this is insane! Are you listening to me? Absolutely insane!”
“If I am too late, she will have no hope of redemption. It is imperative I find her and arrange the marriage before the child is born and beyond the protection of my name. I need your help, Richard.”
“My help – with Wickham's child!?” Richard jumped from his chair with an explosive curse. “Do you know what you are asking? Even if I were to help you, the family – Aunt Catherine, especially – would never let it stand!”
“I say again – no one has any claim on my affairs, least of all Aunt Catherine; and I have made that very clear to her,” Darcy growled as the memory of their last conversation came to mind. “I only hope Elizabeth can be persuaded to accept me. As for the child, with any luck it will be a girl, saving Pemberley for a child of my own. If it is a boy, however, I will still claim him as mine and endeavor to make him a worthy heir. Only a handful of us will ever know the truth.”
“You would marry her even though she dislikes you so much?”
“We got off to a bad start, that is true, but I believe she can be persuaded to not think so ill of me – given enough time. She is too noble to hold me in contempt forever. I have faith in her goodness and I can wait.”
“You are a bloody fool! You fail to realize that it is not just you we are talking about here. One wrong step and you will do irreversible harm to Georgiana's future, something for which I am also responsible. Her standing would be seriously impaired, if not ruined altogether by such a scurrilous connection. It is doubtful even your money and position could overcome such a scandal. You cannot expect me to be a part of that!”
“Very well, I shall not ask. You already know Georgiana's feelings on the matter. I would not risk her reputation if she did not support me.”
“Darcy! Open your eyes! This will not go away easily. Wickham will plague you into penury with blackmail and the constant threat of exposing your wife's dishonorable history.”
“I disagree. If I find her in time, it will be my word against his, which is worth very little in our circles,” Darcy countered stubbornly. “I would not be the first in our society to take advantage of a young lady's affection before marriage.”
“There would still be talk, and you know it.”
“And it will be forgot in time. There is always some new tittle-tattle to divert the gossips. Perhaps Caroline Lamb will favor us with another escapade,” he added dryly.
Richard stared hard into Darcy's eyes. “You are being a fool, Darcy, and you will drag the whole family into scandal and disgrace with you! Give Pemberley to Wickham's child? Madness fit only for Bedlam! I just pray that you come to your senses before it is too late. Elizabeth Bennet could not possibly be worth the price you will pay for this debacle!”
“Oh, she is, Richard,” Darcy met the stare unwaveringly. “She is. I have only to find her in time.”