The carriage turned right, then left, then right again. Elizabeth struggled to keep her mind on the direction in which they were travelling. She wondered if the driver was making extra turns just to confuse her. The carriage made one more turn before leaving the sounds of London behind.
Elizabeth dozed until the carriage left the main road. She nudged Georgiana.
“We’re changing carriages,” she whispered.
Jonathan huffed only slightly at her comment, but it was enough to alert Elizabeth to the fact that he had heard her. “You wish to confuse the tracks. The next conveyance will have different wheels, and the horses will wear shoes from a different smithy just as they did last night. Different shoes make different sounds and the feel of the ride changes with different wheels.”
“You should be a spy,” said Jonathan in derision.
“Who says I am not?” teased Elizabeth. “With four sisters, one must often take on the role of spy to truly know what is happening within one’s home. Prepares one for motherhood.” She laughed.
“You are riding in a carriage with a kidnapper. Three others are riding without, and you laugh?”
Elizabeth leaned toward the sound of his voice and said, “Only two are truly captors.” Then she leaned back against her seat once again.
His voice became gruff. “What do you know?”
“More than you realize, but your secret is safe with me as I am counting on you to keep me alive.”
“I do not know what you mean,” he insisted.
“Yes, you do.”
The carriage had come to a stop, and the door was flung open. Elizabeth sniffed the air. “Well, I got that wrong, Georgiana. We are not switching carriages. We are switching to a wagon.” She leaned closer to Jonathan. “I can smell the straw.”
Indeed, it was a wagon and in the bottom of the wagon was a layer of straw.
“Lie down and be still,” barked Moses. “Not a noise, do you hear?”
“Straw often causes me to sneeze,” said Georgiana.
“Well don’t,” said Joshua.
“She cannot help the fact that straw makes her sneeze. You will just have to have one of your men pretend to sneeze daintily should it become necessary.” Elizabeth lay down and drew Georgiana close. “Do you have a handkerchief you could use to cover your nose, dear?”
Georgiana nodded and pulled a piece of cloth from her pocket. Then remembering that Elizabeth could not see her nod, she said, “There is a handkerchief in my pocket. I can use that. Jonathan was very thorough when he provided clothing for us, was he not?”
“Silence.” Moses’ whisper was menacing. “Cover them.”
A rough blanket which smelled of horse and hay was tossed over the two ladies, and the wagon shifted as the men climbed aboard. They traveled back to the main road for a distance before pulling off onto a bumpy trail to the left.
The blanket was pulled from the wagon and Elizabeth noted the edges of her blindfold were not as dark; clearly the sun was beginning to rise.
“We walk,” commanded Moses.
“In slippers?” Elizabeth was shocked. “It seems foolish to not have provided boots, sir. I can guarantee a walk in slippers will be longer than a walk in boots. There are reasons they make footwear according to tasks.”
Moses pulled the blindfold from their eyes. “Carry them if you must. We must be hidden before daybreak.”
Half an hour of picking their way around trees and over rocks later, Elizabeth and Georgiana found themselves locked in the back room of what appeared to be a hunter’s cabin although it seemed much finer than any cabin Elizabeth had ever been in. There was a large, comfortable looking bed along one wall and a sturdy table and chair standing below a small shuttered window.
Georgiana drew close to Elizabeth and whispered. “I know where we are. I have been here before.”
She pulled Elizabeth toward the bed and pointed to where there were some markings on one of the bedposts. “Fitzwilliam’s and Richard’s initials,” she explained. “I am not sure if Uncle Henry even knows they are here. This is the room that Richard and Fitzwilliam always shared when we would come here.”
Elizabeth ran her finger over the carvings and wondered in what other mischief a young Fitzwilliam had been involved. “This is Lord Matlock’s cabin?”
Georgiana nodded. “It is not far from Rosings Park.” Noting Elizabeth’s look of confusion, she continued. “Rosings is home to my Aunt Catherine — Lady Catherine de Bourgh.”
“And where is Rosings? Is it south of London?” Elizabeth kicked off her slippers and scooted across the mattress toward the wall.
“Yes, Rosings is in Kent,” said Georgiana joining Elizabeth on the bed.
“I assume Rosings Park must be a grand estate. Why would your uncle, an earl, choose to stay in a hunting cabin instead of at Rosings?” Elizabeth rolled down her stocking so she could examine a painful spot on her heel. It was red and swollen, but the skin was still intact.
Georgiana laughed. “He always claimed it was to get an earlier start further away from civilization to increase his odds when hunting, but that did not explain why I was allowed to join him or the fact that he often came back empty handed. He and Aunt Catherine do not always agree, but Aunt Catherine and many people do not always agree.”
“Did your aunt not question these things?” Elizabeth poked at the swollen red spot and winced at the pain it caused.
“Aunt Catherine questions everything that does not agree with her. Uncle Henry would just tell her rather loudly that he was the Earl of Matlock, and he could do as he pleased.
“He did not always stay here. He only came here when Aunt Catherine became overbearing.” Georgiana reached behind the bed and grabbed the edge of the sheet that was tucked there. She tugged at the edge of it until she was able to tear off a strip of material. “Here, you should put a bandage on that,” she said handing the material to Elizabeth. “Uncle Henry will not mind replacing a sheet.”
Elizabeth took the material and began fashioning a rough bandage about her heel. “Would Lady Catherine help us if we were to escape?”
Georgiana laughed. “She might help me after giving me a lecture on avoiding abduction, but she would probably return you to your captors.”
“Why would she not help me?”
“Because you are betrothed to my brother. Aunt Catherine has insisted for as long as I can remember that my brother and her daughter, Anne, were formed for each other. For years, she has been tormenting Fitzwilliam about offering for Anne. Should she learn of your betrothal to Fitzwilliam, you would be safer with our captors.”
“Then we shall not escape today,” stated Elizabeth. “Since I am soon to be part of your family, what else should I know about your aunt and cousin? Will Anne be crushed that Fitzwilliam has chosen to marry another?”
Georgiana described Rosings and what she could remember of her uncle. Then she spoke of Lady Catherine and Anne.
“Anne’s health is not strong, but it is not as poor as her mother would have everyone believe. The care of an estate as large as Pemberley would be more than she feels she could manage. She does not wish to leave Rosings. While she admires the scenery of the north, she prefers the south. So you see, Anne will be relieved she does not have to marry Fitzwilliam. If only Aunt Catherine would allow her to come to London for a season, I am sure we could find her a more suitable husband.”
“Then we shall have to convince Lady Catherine of its value, and if that fails, I am certain we could arrange a successful kidnapping.” Georgiana and Elizabeth were laughing at this as Jonathan entered the room.
“You must write what I say,” he said placing the necessary supplies on the table.
“Are these the instructions to be left at the Blue Thistle? My letter yesterday did say that there would be instructions left there, and I would hate to have written a lie.”
“Are you always this annoying?”
“Only when I am in such charming company.” She gave a significant look at Joshua, who stood with David behind Jonathan.
“My hands await your command,” she said as she took her place at the table.
Jonathan looked at her with what looked like an apology in his eyes. “We still have our lives and virtue. Sixteen thousand pounds ensures both our lives and virtue remain intact.”
Elizabeth gasped. “Such a sum!” Refusing to dwell on the fear that accompanied the rest of the content of the missive, Elizabeth tapped the pen against her jaw. “Now, let me guess where they will deliver the money. The Blue Thistle is a spot frequented by my father, but since this message threatens our virtue, I assume the place of delivery will be somewhere frequented by Mr. Darcy. Where does your brother frequent, Georgiana? White’s? Brook’s? Gentlemen Jackson’s? Angelo’s?”
“Angelo’s or White’s,” replied Georgiana.
Jonathan shook his head and rolled his eyes at Elizabeth’s skills in deduction. “Angelo’s, front door, noon, tomorrow,” he said. “Now sign and then we must include something that shows you to still be alive.”
The two ladies signed the letter.
“Your hands,” said David stepping from behind Jonathan.
Elizabeth and Georgiana held out their hands.
“I am sorry,” whispered Jonathan as he and David each took hold of one of the ladies’ hands and pricked their finger with the tip of a sharp knife. They allowed a few drops to fall and dry on the parchment before wrapping the finger with a clean cloth.
Elizabeth clenched her jaw and fought the sting of tears in her eyes. Georgiana was not as successful, and tears slid silently down her cheeks.
“Sorry,” Jonathan again whispered. Taking the parchment, he folded and sealed it. “Write your brother’s name.”
“With an injured hand?” Georgiana’s eyes flashed. “Hold this cloth in place.” She shoved her hand in front of David. He held the cloth. “Hold the paper from moving,” she nearly shouted at Jonathan. He complied, and Georgiana angrily scratched her brother’s name on the envelope ending with a rather loud jab of the pen leaving a large blot. She threw the pen on the table and snatched her hand back from David.
“Georgie,” Elizabeth tried to soothe her when the men had left. “They were only following orders. If you are to be angry, be angry with Moses. David and Jonathan are not kidnappers. I do not know exactly what they are, but they are not kidnappers. You would do well to trust them.”
Georgiana huffed a while longer. “They should have boxing clubs for women. Men can always go off to their clubs to vent. I desperately wish I could play the piano right now. It is so soothing.”
“It would be painful.” Elizabeth held up her finger. “A good long walk with proper footwear, now that would do wonders. Although even that would be painful right now.” She wiggled her bandaged foot. “We should rest. I expect we will be travelling again tonight. It will be our last night of travel; I should think. They have already requested twenty thousand pounds. There cannot be much more to request.”
“You really think this will be over soon?”
“I do–whether by their choice or ours.”
“Will they let us live once they have gotten their money?”
“I believe they will. Whoever is behind this would do better if you and I live. We are the key to hurting your brother. I do not know who would wish to hurt him. He is such a good man. How can he have enemies?”
“Enemy. Only one. George Wickham.” Georgiana’s lips curled in disgust as she said his name.
“Who is George Wickham?” asked Elizabeth.
“He is the son of my father’s late steward. He grew up very much a part of our life at Pemberley. My father trusted his steward and became less of a master and more of a friend to the gentleman. I think their relationship gave Mr. Wickham’s son a misplaced sense of privilege. He and my brother were often thrown together when they were young and accompanying their fathers about the estate. Mr. Wickham desired for George to learn the responsibilities of a steward while my father was just as eagerly teaching Fitzwilliam how to manage Pemberley.” Georgiana paused and closed her eyes; something Elizabeth had seen her do many times in the last two days when faced with something unpleasant.
“I was quite young at the time, but one day I watched George being the perfect gentleman in the presence of my father and Mr. Wickham. Then, when their backs were to George and Fitzwilliam, George deliberately bumped Fitzwilliam into a small table causing it to tip over. The teacups and pot that were on the table were broken, and the rug beneath was stained by the tea. My brother took the blame, and George stood feigning concern.” Georgiana’s eyes narrowed.
“It was not the only time that George treated Fitzwilliam so. I heard Fitzwilliam telling Richard about how my father finally found out about the torment that George caused. They had climbed a tree not far from this cabin actually. They often climbed up into trees if they wished to avoid Lawrence, as Lawrence has never been good at climbing trees. He at one time claimed it was beneath a viscount to climb a tree, although I have not heard him say so in many years.” Elizabeth drew her lips between her teeth to catch a giggle which threatened to escape. Georgiana caught the look of amusement in Elizabeth’s eye. “Do you know something of this?”
“I may know something about Viscount Brantworth’s aversion to climbing trees, but I shall not tell you about it until you have finished telling me why Mr. Wickham is intent upon harming your brother. Please continue, Georgie.”
“Very well, but you shall tell me?”
“I promise I will tell you, Georgiana.”
Satisfied, Georgiana continued. “Apparently, the tricks George played on Fitzwilliam continued for years. The results were always the same. Fitzwilliam suffered my father’s displeasure and even wrath while enduring my father’s acceptance and praise of George. Then, one day, it all changed. It seems George tried his usual tactics at a store in Lambton. Fitzwilliam had been sent there to settle accounts and place an order. Things my father could have done from his study but wished Fitzwilliam to experience. George was sent with him.
“While they were in the store, George did something which caused a display to topple, destroying several items, but it appeared my brother had caused the accident. Fitzwilliam immediately settled the additional items as part of the account using his own money to do so; however, someone had witnessed the incident and later reported to Mr. Allen that George was at fault and not Fitzwilliam. Mr. Allen spoke to my father and returned Fitzwilliam’s money. Father asked Fitzwilliam about the incident, and the full extent of George’s deceit was discovered.” Georgiana drew in a breath before continuing.
“Fitzwilliam had borne the reproach and shame to protect me. George had threatened to harm me if Fitzwilliam ever spoke about the real cause of each accident. My father, who had believed George to be a fine young gentleman, had, out of respect for his steward, placed in his will a clause bequeathing the living at Kympton to George. However, after that incident, the will was changed. Father still wished to honour his friend and steward through leaving something to George, but instead of the living, a monetary amount was given.
“When George was finally held responsible for his actions, and when he heard about the change in my father’s will, he was furious. He told Fitzwilliam that ‘one day, I will have something that you desire, and I shall make sure you pay dearly for it or never receive it.’”
Elizabeth was silent for a time pondering all that she had been told.
“Lizzy, are you well?” asked Georgiana.
“It is difficult to imagine someone can be so very bad and from such a young age.” The fear Elizabeth had felt upon writing the missive earlier had deepened and threatened to overtake her heart. True, she did not believe this Wickham would kill them, but to send them back ruined would be a perpetual torment to Fitzwilliam. She prayed Jonathan and David would not allow that to happen.
Georgiana snuggled in next to Elizabeth. “Lizzy?”
“Yes,” said Elizabeth.
“Would you mind dreadfully, if I asked you to tell me the story about Lawrence? I feel a need to have more pleasant thoughts with which to fill my mind before I sleep.”
Elizabeth wrapped her arms about the young girl. “I find I also wish to fill my mind with more pleasant thoughts.” For the next several minutes, Elizabeth related to Georgiana about how Lawrence had been tricked into retrieving a young girl’s bonnet from a tree, and how the young girl required him to remain in that tree until he promised to be nice to all small creatures. After a good dose of laughter which worked to clear away most of the earlier tension, both girls drifted off into a somewhat restful slumber.