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"Sorry to interrupt, but may I have a moment of your time?"
Darcy looked up from the book he had been reading. It was late, and he had thought all of his guests were in bed. It had been a relief, as dinner had been rather strained. Richard and Robin had looked daggers at each other throughout the meal. Elizabeth had been far from her usual cheerful self, and Darcy had had trouble speaking to anyone. He certainly did not wish to speak to the person standing just inside his library now.
Courtesy, however, had been bred into him from the earliest of ages. Especially to earls.
"Of course, Lord Robin. Please sit." As Robin entered the room, Darcy rose and headed for his liquor cabinet. "Would you care for something to drink?"
"Brandy, if you have it."
Darcy reached for the decanter and a snifter. Deciding that he could use a drink himself, for he had a fair idea of what Lord Robin wanted to talk about, he grabbed a second snifter. He poured liberal amounts of alcohol in each and handed one to his guest.
"Thank you," Robin said, swirling the amber liquid around before lifting it to his lips.
Darcy seated himself once again and asked, "What did you wish to talk about, Lord Robin?"
"Forget the 'Lord' bit. Just call me Robin." He smiled. "Elizabeth talked about you in her letters. She seemed most surprised at the change in you over this summer. She thought it might have something to do with the fact that she is soon to be my wife."
"Did she?" Oh, Elizabeth, did you truly think that? Why? Could you not see that my feelings for you were the reason I changed?
"Yes. Darcy--is it all right if I call you Darcy, or do you prefer to be more formal?"
"N-no. Not at all. Darcy is fine." But puzzling, for he had believed Robin was about to tell him to stay away from Elizabeth. Surely his feelings for her were obvious to everyone.
"Excellent! Well, Darcy, what I have to say is rather difficult. Indeed, you shall have every right to be offended and to tell me it is none of my business."
Here it comes.
"--about your cousin Richard and Elizabeth."
Richard? "I beg your pardon?" Darcy said. "What about Richard?"
"You must have been gathering quite a bit of wool there. I asked you what you knew about your cousin and Elizabeth. Have they been spending a great deal of time together?"
"I--I suppose they have been." Oddly relieved that Robin had not realized the truth, Darcy was willing to tell him anything he asked about Richard and Elizabeth. "It would only be natural, however. Even as a child Eliza Bennet would tag along after him."
Robin sighed. "Yes, I realize that. She has told me the entire history of Richard Fitzwilliam as she knows it."
Darcy had a flash of insight. He knew almost before being told what Robin's problem was.
"I probably should not expose myself in this manner, but you have known her all of her life, and you know him, and under the circumstances I feel that you would not lie to me to protect either one of them." Robin took another drink of brandy. "I know that Elizabeth did not love me when she accepted my proposal. She said she did and I pretended to believe her."
"Did you love her?" Darcy asked, then immediately wished he had not. Surely such a question could only expose his true interest.
Robin, however, did not think the question out of the ordinary. "Yes, I did. I know what you have thought of her in the past, but you only saw her for one evening in London. I was with her the entire Season. She was magnificent. She had all of London admiring her."
"Apparently not enough to keep them from gossiping about her once she was gone," Darcy said.
"You know about that, then, do you?"
"Yes, and I believe you are correct when you guess my aunt had a hand in it. Lady Catherine de Bourgh has made certain comments while she has been my guest..."
"I understand she is still here. I am surprised she did not join us for supper this evening. Cowardice is not a trait I have heard associated with her."
Darcy snorted. "No, cowardice is definitely not her way. The reason she did not join us is because her daughter was unwell. Anne is often sick and that is why Lady Catherine does not go to London herself. Her influence, however, is wide-felt despite this."
"So I have discovered." Robin looked at his glass, then at Darcy, before continuing. "Darcy, I must ask you if you think Elizabeth is in love with Richard."
It was Darcy's turn to look away. How he wished he could say no! How he wished he could say, "No, Robin, you are confiding in the last person in the world you should want to confide in. Your fiancee is in love with me, not my cousin."
But it was not the truth. "I cannot say," he said.
"Then she is in love with him." Robin's face seemed to lose all animation. His shoulders slumped and he stared at the contents of his glass, which he abruptly finished in one quick motion.
"I did not say that."
"Your silence on the matter gives me answer enough."
"You misunderstand me. Robin, although Elizabeth has made me her confidante of late, do not be deceived that she has shared the workings of her inner heart. We are not that close. We have discussed a number of things, including her plans for your wedding. Never once has she said that she loved my cousin."
"Has she said she loves me?"
Darcy wondered if he should tell the truth. Finally, he decided that Robin would appreciate it.
"No. But I think the fact that she still plans to wed you means a great deal."
"Not necessarily. To break our engagement only to marry a man widely accepted as another woman's fiancé would ruin him. I have given great consideration to this matter and I realize that there is a chance she is sacrificing herself for his financial well-being."
"Not to mention her own," Darcy said, suddenly angry that this conversation was having to take place. The comment was cruel and belittling to both Robin and Elizabeth, but he said it because he had spent a good deal of time questioning her motives for staying betrothed to Robin.
"Yes, there is that as well." Robin sighed heavily. "I should never have done this. I should have known that Richard would come here with you, and I should have told Elizabeth to come with me. She could have visited here for a short time, and then come to me. Then I would not have this problem. I should forget this engagement party you want to give, take Elizabeth and run to Gretna Green as fast as I can."
"That is a bit melodramatic, do you not think?"
"Perhaps."
"Do you love her that much?"
"I believe I do."
Darcy felt like Robin had moments ago when he had finished his drink, only he could not show it. Elizabeth could never be his now. "What is it about Elizabeth Bennet?" he exploded. "What is it about the woman that made her so irresistible in London, to my cousin and you and--and who knows how many other men? She is a servant's daughter, which means she has no dowry. She is not beautiful in any sense of the word. She speaks her mind far more than she should."
"I wish I could answer that," Robin said. "I think it has to do with mystique. She is fascinating because she is so different."
"Or is it because she is so extraordinary?" Darcy allowed his mind to wander. "Because she is smart and funny and opinionated and she gets this look in her eye when she is about to tease you. Because of the way her hair never stays in the style she puts it in. Because..." He looked over at Robin, who was frowning.
"Criticizing her still, I see."
"No, not criticizing at all." But Darcy was grateful that Robin had misunderstood him. "And I did say that she might be extraordinary."
"Well, you are right. She is."
"She would undoubtedly be furious to realize that we are discussing her like this."
Robin laughed. "That she would be. Elizabeth used to get so furious with my mother and me when we would talk about what would happen to her in London without including her in the conversation. She would say, 'Hello, my name is Elizabeth' or something like that to get our attention."
Darcy laughed along with Robin, imagining perfectly the look on Elizabeth's face as she did so.
Robin stopped laughing after a moment and looked serious again. "Darcy, you must help me."
"Help you with what?"
Robin looked hesitant, but then said, "You must help me keep Elizabeth away from Richard."
Darcy had had a feeling this request would be coming, and while he could not lie and agree to do it, given that he was trying his best to bring them together, perhaps telling him what he had arrogantly done would help. "I have."
"Clearly you have not! According to Elizabeth's mother, they have been spending a good deal of time together."
"Only for the past ten days or so, and I hardly doubt Elizabeth's feelings have changed enough to warrant such concern."
"Her feelings for Richard Fitzwilliam have never been in doubt."
"Neither are her actions. She has said she will marry you and she shall do just that."
"I would not force her to the altar! Do you think me that unfeeling?"
"Of course not!" Darcy protested, wondering where he had gone wrong in the conversation. "But I know for a fact that she does not love my cousin, and I do not think that has changed."
"She has given a marvelous impression of a woman in love over the past twelve years."
"A childhood infatuation, something Elizabeth admitted to me herself."
"She did?"
"Yes."
Robin seemed to relax a bit. "True or not, I know he is in love with her. He glared at me all through dinner. He flirted extensively with Elizabeth. You should be grateful that Miss Tysen was not present to see him. I think it would have broken her heart."
"Quite likely," Darcy replied.
"Do you suppose we could arrange for him to suffer a recurring injury?"
"I beg your pardon?" Darcy glared at Robin.
"Not actually hurt him. I mean, knock him out, bribe a doctor to say he has hurt his leg again and he must stay in bed for at least two weeks. By then, Elizabeth and I shall be gone."
"You know, for a man who does not intend to force his bride to the altar, you seem fairly eager to do something which would take away her other options."
Robin stopped short. "I suppose you are right. I should call this whole thing off right this minute. I should go to Elizabeth tomorrow morning and tell her that I release her from our engagement, and that I shall tell everyone she broke it off, rather than the other way around."
"Why do you not?"
"If I could answer that, I would. Perhaps because I think it would be as much of a mistake for her to marry your cousin as you do."
"What makes you think I believe it to be a mistake?" Darcy lifted his snifter to his lips.
"Because I know that you bribed your personal physician to tell Richard Fitzwilliam that he had injured his leg and could not get out of bed for a good long while."
Darcy choked on his brandy. When he was able to breathe normally again, he said, "I see Dr. McClain talks too much."
"Especially when he has had a couple of brandies. He likes the same kind you do." Robin smiled. "Do not blame him, Darcy. When Elizabeth wrote me of Richard's accident, I knew it was a bit too convenient."
"So I admit it. I do not like the idea of Elizabeth marrying Richard any more than you." But not for the reason you suspect. "This still does not answer my question. If you do not want her to feel obligated to marry you, why stay engaged?"
"Because I know, in my heart, that I can make her love me. I thought she was halfway in love with me in London, until your cousin arrived the night of Stanhope's ball. When she agreed to marry me that night, I thought I had finally won. Richard was standing in that very ballroom, yet Elizabeth had agreed to marry me. Then they were both here--"
"Elizabeth did not see him for weeks and weeks. He was in a sickroom attended by a chaperone and Miss Tysen."
"But he was still here. Did she ask for him often? Did she--"
"No. She asked after him, but she did not ask why it took so long for him to heal, or much else beyond asking how he was."
"Perhaps that was more than enough."
"No, no. She talked about many things with great fervor, but she showed very little emotion when it came to him. I do not see where this insecurity has come from, Robin. I am sorry to admit that I agree with you--I do not think Elizabeth loves you as you do her. But she does not love my cousin enough to leave you for him. In the end, she shall marry..." Darcy swallowed heavily. "She shall marry you because she cares a great deal about your happiness, and she knows that your happiness is dependent on her. And I have little doubt that she shall love you in time. Hers is not a fickle heart, Robin. It takes time for her to realize her feelings, but once she does...I sense that she shall love you forever."
And it could have been mine. If I had not been so blind, it could have been mine.
Robin smiled and set his glass down. "Thank you, Darcy. I appreciate your insight into her."
"As for my cousin, do not worry about him, either. He is hardly a shallow man, but he did not recognize Elizabeth's feelings for him in nearly twelve years. He is captivated by her because she is different and not because he loves her, though he might appear to do so. He shall marry Sabrina."
"Does he love her?"
"In some ways, more than he thinks. I think I did a great deal of good by keeping Richard away from Elizabeth. He might have been able to convince her that he did love her, and that would have been wrong. They are too much alike and would never suit. Richard needs someone of sweet temper, and Elizabeth needs someone like...like you."
And that, Darcy, is the truth. Much as it twists a knife in you, you know that Robin is the man she should marry. He is a man who treats every person the same, from the scullery maids to the princesses. He saw a diamond where I saw coal. He probably loved her when she was nothing more than a shop girl working for her uncle.
Robin rose from his seat. "Thank you again, Darcy. You have put me at greater ease than I had hoped to be."
"You are...quite welcome."
"Think I shall head off to bed, then. Sorry to have to put you on the spot like that, but this was a serious matter and I needed some honest answers."
Darcy nodded as Robin left the library. He stood up and walked over to the brandy decanter. With a determined, grim countenance, he resolved to drink the entire thing before the sun rose. He wanted to forget that this conversation had ever taken place.
Even while he was drinking himself into oblivion and a headache, Darcy knew he never would be able to do that.
The engagement party for Miss Elizabeth Bennet and Lord Robert Hamilton, Earl of Denby, began well enough. The guests arrived in due time and were surprised but pleased that Mr. Darcy had decided to throw another party, for country life tended to be rather dull, especially during the summer.
Toasts were given to the couple's future happiness, and before the champagne had been finished Mr. Darcy was calling for the two to lead the first dance. Lord Robin agreed with good humour, while Elizabeth looked slightly distressed at the idea of dancing.
"Surely you have not forgotten everything I taught you, have you?" Robin teased her when she admitted to having nerves. "Dear Lord, I hope I shall not suffer any broken toes this time around."
"You did not suffer any broken toes the last time," Elizabeth replied. She glanced over at the crowd of women surrounding Lady Grace, talking of what a grand occasion the wedding of her only child would be. Lady Grace was frowning and staring intently at Elizabeth and Robin. "Robin?"
"Yes, darling?"
"Why does your mother keep looking at us like that?"
Robin was able to glance at his mother before the music started, a lively tune that was among his favourites. "I cannot imagine why."
"She has given me many such looks since her arrival here at Pemberley. I hope you reassured her that whoever wrote that letter about Richard and me was lying."
"Of course I did. Now, I think we should both concentrate on the music until you are back in step."
Elizabeth was grateful for the reprieve, for it meant she would not be forced to make conversation with her fiancé. It also allowed her to covertly observe Mr. Darcy, who stood to one side of the ballroom with his sister. Georgiana looked particularly nervous this evening, but that was likely owing to her shyness in the presence of strangers.
Especially this many. To Elizabeth's knowledge, this was the largest party ever held at Pemberley. Everyone was surprised that an engagement ball was being held so early, and the news had already gotten out that they would wed before the Season started. Already the gossip mill was circulating that the reason for such haste would make an appearance before next spring.
Elizabeth wondered if Robin had considered skipping the Season as she had. Perhaps an extended honeymoon on the continent would allow people to forget the hastiness of their marriage, and when they returned without a child, put the other rumours to rest.
And admit it, Elizabeth, it would allow you time to concentrate solely on Robin and forget Mr. Darcy.
Even as she told herself that, she knew she would never be able to forget Mr. Darcy. It was utter folly to consider that she could.
"You seemed to have regained your confidence in dancing," Robin said. "I could dance with you all night."
Elizabeth smiled weakly. "That would be lovely," she replied, as she knew she should.
"Of course, I cannot. I would be most remiss if I did not allow you a dance with our gracious host."
She prayed that the way her heart leaped did not show on her face. She had only just managed to convince Robin that she did not love Richard--a fairly easy task, as she did not. She did not now wish to make him realize the truth.
When the dance ended, Robin walked Elizabeth over to Lady Grace and said, "I think I shall ask Fitzwilliam's lovely fiancée if she would like to risk dancing with me."
"She is a far better dancer than I," Elizabeth replied. "I shall await you here."
Robin bowed and walked over to the other young woman, who was looking utterly miserable despite having danced with Richard. Elizabeth could not stop her eyes from seeking out Darcy. It surprised her to find that he was looking at her as well.
"Elizabeth..." Lady Grace said.
"Yes?"
"When this evening is over, I think you and I should have a discussion about something that has been troubling me for the past two weeks."
"Can we not have it now?"
"This is hardly the time or the place for it, but I have a feeling you know what I wish to discuss."
Elizabeth felt a sudden chill and realized that Lady Grace knew the truth.
If you thought that she would not notice that something was wrong, you were a greater fool than you realize.
"Miss Bennet?"
Elizabeth looked at the young man in front of her, someone she had met once in London but whose name she could not recall. He was a neighbor of Robin's, if she recalled correctly.
"May I have the honour of the next dance?"
"Certainly," she replied with as warm a smile as she could manage, walking out onto the floor.
Richard had finished dancing with Sabrina for the second time when he noticed his cousin walk with determined strides through the crowd.
Richard looked with amazement as Darcy approached Elizabeth and bowed to her. He apparently extended an invitation to dance, for he then escorted her to the floor. Of all the sights he had never thought to see, this was one of them. His cousin, who had knocked him unconscious and inadvertently caused him to damage his knee to prevent him from talking with her alone, was now publicly singling her out for attention.
Caroline Bingley would swallow her bonnet, he thought with a smile.
But this did make him wonder what Darcy was scheming now. All evening, he had noticed, his cousin's eyes had been watching Elizabeth, looking almost jealous. Had he not known his cousin's true feelings, he would have guessed that Darcy was in love with her.
The music began and Richard looked at his cousin more closely. He began to notice that there was something in the way he looked at Elizabeth, at the way she looked at him.
Richard's smile turned into a frown. There was something more between them now than there had been before his injury. He could attribute this to having thrown them together as Darcy's punishment for causing his injury, but that was not all.
"Richard?"
Richard turned to see Sabrina standing beside him. A brief flash of guilt coursed through him as he wondered how long she had been standing there, waiting for him to acknowledge her.
"Would it be possible for us to be alone for a moment? There is something we need to discuss."
"Surely it can wait for a while. The dancing has just started and I have not asked you--"
"No, this cannot wait."
Something in her voice and in the way she looked at him told him she was intent upon speaking with him. Though he did not want to leave, because the truth about Darcy's feelings for Elizabeth was dawning on him, he knew he owed it to Sabrina to talk. He reluctantly agreed and followed her outside onto the terrace.
"What is so important that we had to leave so urgently?" he asked.
"Richard..." Sabrina looked down at her gloved hands and prayed for courage. "Do you wish to marry me?"
Stunned, Richard could only stare at her for a minute. That was the last question he thought she would ask, though now that he thought about it, given his behaviour lately it was a wonder that she had not asked before now.
"I seem to hold little interest for you these days. When you proposed, I knew for certain that you loved me. Then we went to London and something seemed to change. Then you were injured and it seemed as though we were closer than ever. After the doctor pronounced you healed...I do not understand you, Richard."
Richard felt his face get hot, and he knew he was guilty of trifling with her, and even more guilty for having done it after asking her to marry him. His behaviour had been most inexcusable. When he had been injured, he had been far more appreciative and courteous to her because she had been there every day. As the days had passed and Elizabeth had not come to see him, he had felt some of his old feelings for Sabrina resurface.
"Sabrina..."
"Answer my question. That is all I wish."
"Why do you think I do not wish to marry you? I did ask you to marry me. That should be a sufficient answer to your question."
"You asked me to marry you in March, yes. Since then, you seem to be hesitant. One day, I think that you are excited to be marrying me. The next day, it is almost as though I do not exist for you. When you were injured...forgive me for saying this, but it was quite possibly the happiest time of my life. It gave me my first glimpse of our future happiness, and except for the fact that you were hurt and could not go anywhere, I thought you were feeling the same things I was."
"I know I have not...that I have not always shown..." Richard thought of everything he had seen this evening--Lord Robin and Elizabeth dancing together, and the possessive way he had been looking at her. The look in his cousin's eyes when he looked upon Elizabeth, and the way she had looked at him as they had stood across from each other on the dance floor.
"Richard, I think perhaps we should end our engagement..."
Richard did not hear her words, lost in more thoughts. He thought of Sabrina, and the way she had always smiled when she saw him...the way her face seemed to glow in the candlelight...her soft voice trying to soften the doctor's words of discouragement when he had been immobile. And when he had been bedridden, she had spent most of every day with him, though it must have gotten boring for her. She had always made certain to bring him a treat, whether it be something edible she had filched from the kitchens or something to keep him amused when she was gone.
Elizabeth had not come to see him once. Darcy had mentioned that they went for walks and briefly mentioned what they talked about, but whenever Richard would ask Darcy denied that Elizabeth ever asked how he was doing, though the reason for that was now clearly obvious to him. Had Elizabeth truly loved him, she would have visited him.
"...it really would be for the best. I do not want to be married simply for my money..."
Richard had a feeling that neither hell nor high water would have prevented Sabrina from seeing him. Indeed, he recalled one day when it had been raining dreadfully, Sabrina had appeared at the doorstep. He had feared she would catch cold and had insisted on having a fire started for her. He asked her why she had come and she had said--
"...I am so sorry, Richard, because I really did think we were right for each other, but now I cannot risk my future happiness on--"
"What?" Richard finally heard what she was presently saying.
Sabrina looked a bit aggravated. "This is what I am talking about, Richard! You hardly listen to me anymore."
"I am sorry...I was just thinking. Sabrina, during the whole of our engagement I have not acted in a gentlemanlike manner. I shall not lie to you, my behaviour has been of the worst sort."
"Please do not make this harder than it already is. You have no idea how I struggled with this decision."
"Decision?"
Sabrina's eyes filled with tears. "You were not paying attention and completely missed that I ended our engagement. That should have given me answer enough to my question." She started to walk away.
Ended our engagement? Richard grasped her shoulders. "No! I shall not let you do this!"
"Why? So you can continue to torture me with your ambivalent feelings? So I can tell you ten times in one evening that I love you and have you brush me off without a word? Every day since things started changing between us, I wondered if perhaps you saw me as nothing more as a dowry which would allow you to leave the army and the future promise of an estate next to your cousin's. Had I not had these things, would I ever have been attractive to you?"
In a blinding flash, Richard realized the truth he had been so foolish as to deny all this time.
"Sabrina, I love you."
Sabrina felt her heart stop. How long had she waited to hear him say those words? How long had she suspected that his heart had never truly been hers?
And how could she possibly believe him now, because it was only her decision not to marry him which had brought about those words?
"No, you do not," she said, tears rolling down her face.
"Please, listen to me! I may not always have shown it. I may not have always loved you as I should. And I shall be perfectly honest, when I asked you to marry me I was hesitant about whether or not I was doing the right thing. I feared that maybe what you think now was correct, that I was marrying you for the wrong reasons. I allowed my doubts to cloud my behaviour, and you have been the one to suffer for it. Believe me, I am so sorry for that. My meager apology cannot make up for it, but...it is all I have."
"And it is too late," she replied. "Though I thank you for it. In the morning, I shall tell my parents that we have come to a mutual decision that we shall not suit, and our engagement is at an end."
"Tell me what I can do to convince you that I love you."
"Richard, please do not do this."
"No! I want to know! Please, tell me what I can do!"
"Can you not see that it would make no difference now? You cannot go back and change what has happened, and I cannot go forward and continue--"
"But my doubts are gone! I love you. If I have to spend the rest of my life making up for my behaviour of the past months, I shall be more than happy to do it, as long as you promise you shall be there so I can do it."
Sabrina thought of something that could be considered beyond the pale of ladylike behaviour, something that would shock him and perhaps end their engagement due to his outrage. But she knew she had to do it.
"Kiss me."
Richard blinked, but did not ask her to repeat herself. He had a feeling that would be the worst thing he could do. Instead, he did just as she asked.
Sabrina had not thought he would kiss her, and thus was slightly unprepared for the first kiss she had ever received. She did recover from her surprise only to find herself further shocked by responding to his kiss.
For his part, Richard could not believe how magical being in Sabrina's arms felt. Any other kiss he had received seemed to pale in comparison to how special this one was, and he was amazed that he had ever thought another woman desirable. This was the one person he wanted to be at his side for life.
The two slowly drew apart. Richard feared that she might still think he was after her money, that his kiss proved he would do anything to secure her fortune.
"Sabrina, please do not give up on me," he whispered. "If you wish, I shall give up all claims to your money and return to the army. I have a feeling that if I wished, I could be right back where I was within a very short time. All I would want is you by my side. The life of an officer's wife is not an easy one, but...but it would not matter, for we would be together and have each other and..."
Richard rambled on and Sabrina smiled. "Richard..."
"Yes?"
"All I needed was for you to kiss me."
"But...but I want you to believe me."
"I do believe you."
"No. You cannot believe me with one wonderful kiss and a few pretty words."
"I did not need the pretty words. The kiss was enough. I always felt that I would know how you felt if you kissed me...if I asked you to kiss me and you did not hesitate."
"Then...then you do not want to break our engagement?"
She shook her head. Richard crushed her against him, blinking back tears of his own.
"I love you so much," she said against his chest. "I always have. I was just so afraid that you did not love me."
He stepped back to look down at her. "I have been the greatest fool walking this earth, but you can be assured that tonight, I have received one of the greatest lessons in life."
"And what is that?"
"Never take anything for granted. It was a lesson I thought I knew well, but until tonight, I never realized how poorly I had learnt it." He smiled. "I wish I could stay out here with you forever. I do not want to go back into that ballroom and share you with everyone else."
"If we stay out here, people would talk."
"Let them! We are to be married, are we not?"
Sabrina laughed. "Indeed. But I would as soon people not speculate as they are about Miss Bennet and Lord Denby."
Richard sighed. What a mess he had gotten himself into. It had nearly cost him the one thing that would insure his future happiness. "You are quite right," he said. "We should return." Offering her his arm, which she took without hesitation, he escorted her back into the ballroom.
Robin stared at the couple as they whirled by him. With each look of longing they gave each other, the truth that he had tried evading since that first dinner at Pemberley stared him full in the face.
When he could bear it no longer, Robin left the ballroom and went outside into the gardens. Though it was still summer, there was a slight chill in the air and he wished he had thought to wear something warmer. He walked in the direction of the stables, uncertain as to why. Elizabeth's father would be there and the last thing he wanted right at the moment was to see anyone whose last name was Bennet.
Or Darcy.
All this time, Robin had thought his greatest rival for Elizabeth's affections was Richard Fitzwilliam. He had had no inkling, until dinner the first night he had been here, that his rival was Fitzwilliam Darcy. That he should have been so blind to the truth hurt, especially since as recently as that afternoon he had still thought Richard was coming between them. But that evening, he had seen the truth. Elizabeth's looks at Darcy, when she thought she was unobserved, had told the tale of how she felt. The gentleman had learned greater restraint and had refrained from looking at her the entire evening. Yet it had been for that exact reason--his complete avoidance of her--that had made Robin suspect the rest.
Robin had hoped he was mistaken, and had gone searching for Darcy that evening to discover whether or not he was correct.
And he had discovered he was. Darcy's eloquent answers about Elizabeth's affections, far from soothing his fears, had only confirmed them. No man would talk about a woman with such warmth in his eyes if he felt nothing for her.
The ache in his heart was like none he had ever experienced. It was only increasing as he had watched the way they looked at each other.
Words mean so little when looks say so much. Both say that she shall marry me and be happy, when the truth is marrying me shall make all of us miserable.
Robin knew at that moment that he would never be able to marry Elizabeth Bennet. He did not want her to marry him if she did not love him. He had known that all along, even before he had come to Pemberley. He only wished he had been wrong.
Robin had gone about fifty yards from the house when a small figure hurtled into him. Robin took the brunt of the person's weight in his midsection, and groaned as they both fell to the ground.
"A thousand pardons, my good man!" the voice said.
Robin stayed on the ground, clutching his stomach. Although the young man--not even a man, really, just a boy of perhaps fourteen--was slim, the speed at which he had been going caused the worst of the damage.
Robin took a closer look at his accidental assailant. The lad wore a large hat on his head that had seen decidedly better days. A voluminous overcoat came to his knees and hid the rest of his outfit from view, but the effect was that of a young boy parading about in his father's clothing. While the clothing was of fine material, the boots he wore were scuffed and dirty, which confused him even further.
"Are you all right?" The voice squeaked on the last word.
"I shall be fine," Robin said shortly.
"I really did not mean to run into you like that, but I was in such a hurry that I was not paying attention to what might lie in my path."
"That was quite obvious."
The boy looked at him for a moment, then said, "You are Lord Robin Hamilton, are you not?"
"I am."
"And this party is for you?"
"Yes. Who are you?"
"Sir Adam Simonson at your service." The boy hesitated for a moment before extending his hand. "And I do apologize for all this."
"So you have said." Robin slowly rose to his feet, feeling a bit woozy from having the wind knocked out of him. He took the boy's hand and shook it, amazed that a boy with such fragile bones and what seemed to be little strength had been able to knock him down at all. "Where were you off to in such a great rush?"
"To get in there. My mother would have a fit if she knew, but I could not resist. I have heard a great many tales of Miss Eliza Bennet, but I have only met her once and that was not under the best of circumstances."
"When was that?" Robin asked. "Recently, or before she left for London?"
"Eh...recently. She was walking through Lambton with a young man."
"Was it the master of Pemberley?"
The young man hesitated. "I believe it was. They were fond of walking."
"How do you know this?"
"Because my mother told me--" The voice raised to a squeak again.
"What did your mother tell you?"
"Er, nothing." The boy was beginning to fidget.
"I thought you said you had met Miss Bennet, and not under the best of circumstances. You also said that you had only met her once, yet you know they were fond of walking." Robin looked closely. "You are no 'Sir' at all, are you?"
The boy looked at him with stricken eyes. Robin laughed. "Do not worry, young man. I do not intend to expose you. Is Adam Simonson your real name?"
"Aye." Now the boy was talking with a less cultured accent than before, though his voice still squeaked.
"And where do you live?"
"I live far from here, milord."
"Where, exactly?"
With a sigh, the boy said, "I am from Rosings Park. Mama is Miss Anne's companion and though Lady Catherine was upset, Miss Anne indulged my mother and allowed me to come along. Today Lady Catherine said there was a use for me as a spy, so here I am."
"I see."
"Yea, you see, Miss Anne, she is supposed to marry Mr. Darcy, only Lady Catherine has been hearing from the servants that Mr. Darcy is showing attention to that Bennet girl, and she wants it stopped."
"I can see why." Robin looked with pained eyes at the light coming from the ballroom. Music drifted from the open doors, and he thought of what was probably going on at the moment. In his mind's eye he could still see Elizabeth and Darcy dancing together. They would probably dance together the entire night if they could.
"Mama says that Miss Bennet should be put in her place."
Robin turned sharply to look at the lad. "I am well aware of what anyone associated with Lady Catherine de Bourgh thinks of my fiancee."
"Oh...er, sorry milord. I did not mean to offend. I personally do not think there is anything wrong with it."
"Wrong with a woman loving another man besides her fiancé?"
"No, sir. I meant her marrying you."
"Thank you."
"And I say that not just out of my loyalty to Miss Anne, though she has said on occasion that she does not love Mr. Darcy."
"And your mother told you this?"
"Er...yes."
Now he knew the boy was lying. There was something rather fishy about the lad, and Robin could not quite figure out what it was.
"Well, if you would excuse me, I should be getting back." He bowed to Robin and headed in the direction of the doors to the ballroom.
It was the walk that gave it away. Although it tried to emulate masculine strides, femininity had been bred into that walk from an early age.
"Adam" was a woman.
"Hey!" Robin started forward to stop her, but she must have realized that he had figured it out because she started to walk faster. He broke out into a run and caught her around the waist just as she reached the gardens. The force of grabbing hold of her knocked them to the ground once again.
"Let me go!" she shrieked, disregarding the party going on around them. There were so many people that she probably would not have been heard anyway.
Robin reached for the hat covering her hair and pulled. In the light coming from the ballroom he could see thick, rich reddish-brown hair spilling over her shoulders. Her features, which in the dark might have passed for a boy's, were now clearly feminine--the large eyes that looked to be either blue or green, long lashes, full lips, delicate but determined little chin. She did seem familiar to him, but he had no idea who it could be.
Robin could not help staring. In the moonlight, this woman was absolutely stunning. "Who are you?" he asked.
"That is not your concern, sir, as we shall never meet again."
"You knocked me down--"
"And if this was your way of repaying me for it, consider us even. Now let me go."
"You lied to me not once or twice, but three times."
"I beg your pardon!"
"You said you were a Sir, then you said you were a boy."
"That is only twice."
"Then you said you were spying for Lady Catherine de Bourgh. That is three. While the other two were slightly more important, three is the correct number."
"What has this to do with anything?"
"Well, given that you have been completely rude, and given the fact that I suspect you are a lady--"
"I do not know where you get your ideas. Elizabeth Bennet must be mad to want to marry you."
"I do not think she wishes to marry me at all."
"Is that why you left you own engagement party looking as though hell's hounds were chasing you?"
"Of course it is. Would you not be upset if the man you were to marry clearly loved another?"
"I do not know. I have never loved anyone."
"Supposing you did, then."
"I would think I were upset--if I loved the man." She made a move as though to get up and get away, but Robin blocked her by taking her hands in his. "I said let me go."
"Not until you tell me who you are. Who you really are."
Her spine stiffened and he knew she would not tell him.
Are you mad? You are holding this woman here against her will. If anyone were to find you...
Yet Robin could not break off contact. Just the feel of her hands in his was causing his heart to beat faster. He looked into those angry eyes of hers and wondered if they would be just as enchanting sparkling with humour, glowing with love...
Have you forgotten that this is your engagement party, man?
"Why do you keep looking at me in such a manner?" she demanded, as challenging as ever.
"Why do you dress up as a boy?"
"Why do you care?"
"Do you answer all questions with questions?"
"I could ask you the same thing."
"And you could answer mine so that I would not have to keep asking."
"Then I guess we are getting nowhere."
Robin brought one of his hands to her hair. It felt like silk to his fingers.
"W-what are you doing? Did I give you permission to touch me?"
"No, you did not, but given that you are not a lady--"
"Did I ever say I was not a lady?"
"You asked me where I got my ideas when I suggested you were. You then added that I must be mad, or Elizabeth was."
"You are the most infuriating man!"
"Then we are even again, for I find you a most infuriating woman."
"You do not know me at all."
"You are correct, hence my initial question: what is your real name?"
"If I tell you, will you promise to let me go?"
"Yes."
"Swear on something so I can believe you."
"I swear on my good name."
"I do not know that that should count."
She had intended to offend him, but Robin recognized her ploy and found himself rather amused. "It shall have to do, Miss..."
With a twist of her lips, she said, "Dalrympole. Ophelia Dalrympole. Now let me go."
Robin knew that Ophelia was no more her name than Adam was, but he had to admire her creativity. "I think I shall claim one thing before you go."
"No fair! You swore on your good name that you would release me!"
"I seem to recall someone impugning my name, so I feel no regrets about doing this, my dear Ophelia." Robin took that maddening chin of hers in his hand. Knowing it was sheer and utter madness, but knowing he would never be able to live with himself if he did not do it, he kissed her. Her resistance faded and she kissed him with equal desire.
When Robin paused to draw breath, he murmured, "Ophelia..." hoping that using the false name she had given him would motivate her to give him her real one.
"No!" she cried, pushing him away with sudden strength. Grabbing her hat, she ran off before he could give chase.
This must have been a dream. Surely I conjured up a woman who looked like a goddess in the moonlight because I wanted her to be real, because if she were real then I would not feel so bad about Elizabeth falling in love with Darcy.
Robin noticed something glinting in the grass and he picked it up. A gold cross on a chain lay in his hand, broken from the clasp. He realized that he must have accidentally been holding on to it when she managed to get away from him. He turned the cross over and saw the initials COF etched on it.
Without knowing why, he slipped it into the pocket of his waistcoat. Someday, he knew, he would find the owner.
What nonsense. Such a melodramatic declaration. She was probably a servant's daughter--you seem to have a liking for those--who wanted to attend the ball but could only do so dressed as a young man.
He decided that his emotions were still too dazed to return to the ballroom, he sat on a bench and looked around at the grounds. Darcy might be a lying bastard, Robin thought, but he did keep an excellent estate.
"Hurry! Hurry, my love!" a hushed male voice called.
Robin would have grinned if he were not about to lose his privacy. Ah, the wonderful thing about secluded gardens--they made lovers want to escape.
"My dress is caught! Oh, George, we shall never get away with this!"
"Keep your voice down and we will."
Suddenly, from a bush not far from Robin, a young man appeared. Robin abruptly lay on the cold bench, trying to assume the position of a man passed out from drink.
"Who is that?" the woman who appeared from the hedge exclaimed.
"I would not know. He is not my guest."
"Good Lord! It is Lord Robin."
"Little George, we have not the time for you to ponder what the guest of honour is doing out here drunk. We must hurry or someone will find us."
"Yes, of course."
Robin opened his eyes just enough to see a young woman with red hair rush past him. For a moment he thought she might be Ophelia, but then he realized that she was wearing a dress and her hair was impeccable, something which would have taken too much time to do.
The couple disappeared away from the main house and toward a small light coming from a carriage before Robin could figure out who she was. Deciding he did not have the time because surely someone had missed him, he returned to the ballroom.
The orchestra stopped playing as a loud voice proclaimed that supper was to be served in the formal dining room. The guests were pleased with the news, for Mr. Darcy was never known to be a miserly host when it came to food and his cook for the past several years, whose name they had discovered was Jane, was among the finest in England.
Before they could make their way to the dining hall, they heard an agonized cry.
"Mr. Darcy! Mr. Darcy! You must stop him! You must make him marry me!"
Nearly two hundred pairs of eyes turned to look at the hysterical young woman who has stormed past the butler and entered the ballroom. Clearly she was a servant, for her clothes spoke for her station. Her cheeks were tear-stained and her eyes looked almost wild.
Elizabeth froze when she saw her sister stand in the middle of the dance floor and cry out for Mr. Darcy.
Dear God. Please, God, do not let her expose herself here in front of all these people. Not tonight.
Darcy rushed across the floor upon seeing Lydia Bennet.
"Lydia, what on earth are you doing here? Please, come this way and we shall talk this over rationally. Cuthbert, please fetch Jane if she has a moment, her sister needs her." he said quickly. In a hushed whisper, he said, "Lydia, you had no right to come."
"I had to come! He is leaving tonight, and he has taken--"
"Not another word," Darcy hissed. "You have made a spectacle of yourself in front of my guests and your sister. Now remember yourself."
"My sister? My sister?! What care I for my sister now? He has left me, and all you can think about is El--"
"Please forgive the intrusion," Darcy announced to his guests. "Lydia has been unwell of late. She needs a rest and the comfort of her mother and sister. Please, go into the dining room and enjoy yourselves. I shall join you momentarily." Darcy took Lydia's arm in his grasp and forced her out of the ballroom and in the direction of the library.
Elizabeth wished that she could join them, but she had not taken three steps in the direction when Lady Grace stopped her.
"You cannot follow them," she said quietly.
"I must. Papa has suspected for some time that Lydia has been meeting someone and--"
"Elizabeth, if you go, you will only create more speculation than there already is. That is what this party was supposed to prevent."
"It is too late, Lady Grace," Elizabeth replied. "People shall always speculate one way or the other. No matter what I do, people will always say that I am the servant's daughter who married far above her station. There shall always be people who laugh at your son behind his back and claim he was fooled by a pretty face and fine figure. And perhaps they shall be right."
"What are you saying?"
Elizabeth's eyes filled with tears. What she wanted to say she could not. "I...I need to be with my sister now. Please excuse me. I shall be right back."
"Elizabeth, please--"
"Lady Grace, when we were in London I did everything you asked of me. All I wish in return now is to be with my sister. Although we have not always gotten along, she needs me at this moment. She shall not need me in an hour or so, when it would be safe for me to talk with her. She needs me now." Elizabeth took her leave of Lady Grace and walked to the library, where all she could hear were Lydia's choked sobs and Mr. Darcy's entreaties for her to calm down.
Elizabeth walked into the room. Both Lydia and Mr. Darcy looked up at her. "Elizabeth! What are you doing here? You should be in at dinner."
Lydia looked at her sister with grateful eyes, knowing why she was there and what she might be giving up in terms of reputation to be there.
"I had to be here," Elizabeth said, taking a seat beside her sister on the chaise. "Lydia, who have you been meeting?"
"You know?" Lydia gasped.
"Papa suspected, and he told me. But he could not figure out who the man could be, because if it were one of the other servants, all of Pemberley would have known. So you must tell me who it is, because if we are to give your child a father we must have a name."
Lydia's mouth gaped wide open. "How did you know that?" she whispered. Her face went white with fear. "Does Papa know about that as well?"
"You would not have stormed into a ball insisting that I find a man and make him marry you for any other reason," Darcy said quietly. "Though you realize that everyone now shall know."
Lydia nodded. "I am sorry for interrupting the party, but Elizabeth, I truly thought he would not leave me. He said he loved me. He promised that he would marry me, then last week before I could even tell him about the baby he said he was marrying another."
Elizabeth closed her eyes, not wanting her sister to misinterpret the fury that surely appeared in her eyes. She could not block out the furious indignation she felt. The man who had seduced and abandoned Lydia was undoubtedly a gentleman who thought it was his due to dally with a maid and not have to suffer consequences.
By God, this is one gentleman who shall pay the price or I shall kill him. Such feelings shocked her, but at the same time she knew that she meant it.
"I told him about the baby, and he laughed. He laughed at me! He said that I would never be able to prove it was his, because I had a reputation--it is lies, Elizabeth, all lies! He is the only man I have..." Lydia suddenly remembered that Darcy was in the room and she blushed. "Suffice it to say, it is his child."
"Yes, I understand that, but who is he?"
Tears streaked down Lydia's face and she said in a low voice, "George Wickham."
Elizabeth put a hand to her mouth, but was unable to prevent herself from crying out. Mr. Darcy hung his head.
"Where has he been staying?" Darcy asked, not looking up from the floor.
"In that little rundown cottage on the edge of the property, where old Mr. Witherspoon lives. George knew that the man was staying with his daughter because her husband had just died and left her with three little ones, and as he had told none save yourself, Mr. Darcy, no one would suspect that the person staying there was not Mr. Witherspoon. Not even Papa."
"Rest assured, Lydia, that George Wickham shall soon find himself beside you at the altar," Darcy told her. "Where has he gone?"
Lydia had to swallow several times before being able to answer. "He is gone to Gretna Green to get married. At least, I believe they have gone to Gretna Green. If I were going to be married with all due haste, I would go there. It was where George used to tell me we would go, because I thought it most romantic and--"
"Whom is he marrying?" Elizabeth asked.
Lydia could not meet their eyes, especially Darcy's, which seemed to be boring into her. "I asked him, because when he told me there was another he planned to marry I insisted on knowing who it was who would be taking my place. I could not understand why he would not marry me, as we loved each other in the most important way and I was having his child. But then he told me who it was and...and I realized that I could never be anything compared to her, because--"
"Lydia!" Elizabeth was exasperated.
"He has eloped with Miss Darcy," Lydia blurted out. "He did not tell me when they would go, but I saw them drive away in a carriage this evening."
The rage Darcy felt nearly equally Elizabeth's moments earlier when Lydia had confessed to her condition. "Georgiana?" he asked. "My sister?"
Lydia nodded. "George said that...that she was a lovely girl, and that he would have to be a fool not to marry her, for she was so rich and virtuous and accomplished. He said that I was nothing more than a diversion, for men...men had needs and I fulfilled them while he waited for Georgiana to marry him."
"Dear God," Elizabeth murmured. "He chose his timing perfectly. You would be so involved with the ball that you might not notice she was missing until morning."
"I cannot believe this!" Darcy allowed his rage to show itself for a moment, right as Jane and Tom walked into the library.
"Elizabeth! What on earth are you doing here?" Tom asked. "Should you not be with Robin?"
"This was more important, Papa," Elizabeth replied. "Lydia, you must tell him the truth. All of it."
Lydia haltingly told her father about her liaison with George Wickham, and the end result of it. She then admitted that George was eloping with Georgiana.
"Why did you not tell Mr. Darcy at once?" Tom roared. "He might have prevented her from running away with him!"
"I did not know if he was telling me the truth or if he was lying in an attempt to get away from me," Lydia said.
"Then how do you know that they are gone?" Darcy demanded.
"Because I saw him in a carriage that was speeding away from Pemberley."
"How long ago was this?"
"About an hour ago."
Darcy had a great dilemma, and he suspected that George Wickham's planning had been cunning in more ways than one. The duties of hosting a party should have kept him from noticing that Georgiana was gone, which was undoubtedly why he had convinced Georgiana to leave with him tonight.
Yet as the host, he could not leave the party without giving an explanation, and he did not want to do so. Were he to tell people that he was going to find his sister, who had just eloped, Georgiana's reputation would be in shreds and she would have to marry Wickham anyway.
"What am I going to do?" Darcy whispered, starting to pace. "I cannot leave the party, and I am the only person who could possibly get Georgiana out of this mess."
"What about a diversion?" Tom suggested.
"We have already had one of those, and thank God for it. Had Lydia not arrived, Georgiana would likely be married before I even discovered her gone. I think that two diversions in one evening would be a bit much to believe. Besides, even with another diversion, I would still have to leave and people would want to know why."
"Every minute we debate this is another minute they get closer to Gretna Green," Elizabeth said. "There is nothing else we can do. The party must end. They must be found before it is too late."
"Even if I were to find them, Georgiana's reputation would be ruined. Wickham would never keep quiet about something like this," Darcy said. "But I cannot let her marry him. He must marry Lydia. I must go after them."
"Yes," Elizabeth agreed. "We can say that you are feeling unwell and...and you can turn over hosting duties to your cousin. That would free you to look for your sister without giving anything more in the way of an explanation."
"Excellent, my child," Tom said. "I think that solves the problem. I shall go with you, Darcy. Lydia is my daughter and though Wickham is the last man in the world I would wish for a son, he shall marry her and make her child legitimate."
"I shall have Richard summoned so he can make my excuses for the evening. Meet me at the stables in ten minutes," Darcy said. "If you would not mind, on this occasion I would like to borrow Sweet Success."
"Of course," Tom replied. "I shall meet you there." He gave his youngest daughter one last reproachful look before leaving the room.
"Elizabeth, I cannot thank you enough for having a clear head and coming up with a solution," Darcy told her.
"You can thank me by not objecting to my coming along," Elizabeth said.
"What?" Darcy gasped.
"I am coming with you."
"You cannot do that! It would be most improper."
"My father would be there for propriety's sake, but while both of you are thinking of tearing into Wickham, someone should be there to comfort Georgiana."
"I shall be there to comfort her."
"You shall have to deal with Wickham. The only way Georgiana would have run away with him is if she believed he loves her, and when she finds out that he only wishes to marry her for her dowry, she shall be devastated."
"Then I shall ask Mrs. Young to--"
"No!" Elizabeth snapped. "That woman has not a sympathetic bone in her body. I have seen it all too often. Besides, if you bring her along, that is one more person who finds out what is actually happening. She stays here and I go."
"It is one thing to make up a story that I am sick so I can get away. What excuse could you possibly make? You are the guest of honour. And have you given a thought as to what Robin and Lady Grace might have to say about this?"
"I do not care anymore! I am done with society. Society is nothing more than a bunch of bloody idiots who have not enough sense to realize the true worth of a man, and I am sick of catering to them. Although I have not been very close to her, I care a great deal for Georgiana and I want to see that Lydia's interests are taken care of. I do not care who censures me for it."
"I cannot ask you to do this."
"You have not asked me. I am going. If you would excuse me, I shall need to change and gather some things. I have a feeling it is going to be a tough ride." Elizabeth motioned to Lydia. "Come on. I shall take you to Mamma."
Lydia was most reluctant to have to see her mother, for she knew she would be disappointing her greatly, but she followed her sister.
Darcy decided that Elizabeth's idea of gathering things together was a good one, for he was afraid of what Wickham might do once they confronted him. He went to his desk and pulled out a set of keys. Walking over to the locked cabinet behind the door into the library, he pulled out a flat box and opened it.
Inside gleamed a pair of dueling pistols.
The three of them were gone within the hour. Robin had watched Elizabeth go, having been unsuccessful in convincing her to stay.
Lady Grace had said, "You must let her go, Robin." He had known she had not just meant letting her go chasing after her sister, but did not say anything to her.
Soon after the hasty departure of the host (whose illness was speculated upon), a series of debacles soon detracted the guests until the end of the evening: a pair of guests argued over a young lady's honour, and it was rumoured that a duel was imminent; a small fire broke out in the gardens, which the male guests stopped in the name of manly courage; two drunken servants were observed brawling out front, causing many of the male guests to place bets on the outcome; one gentleman dared to make the statement that he had the fastest carriage at the party, and was then forced to prove it, which he did not do; a young couple whose parents were mortal enemies were discovered kissing on the veranda, and the substitute host was found kissing the lovely Miss Tysen in the gardens, though their engagement was assumed as fact and this was not as much a scandal as it could have been; and finally, a high-stakes gambling game had been started in the card room and a gentleman everyone had long suspected of cheating had at last been exposed. The game had been played well into the evening, and by the time it was finished everyone knew the party was over.
Everyone agreed later that it was the grandest and most exciting party they had ever attended, nothing at all like the stuffy society parties everyone praised in London. In all the excitement, none of them had noticed that the host and one of the guests of honour were missing.
Nothing seemed to be happening as Georgiana had expected on this trip. George seemed most distracted and had said very little to her as their carriage made its way north. He had asked her several times if she were certain that Lord Denby had been in a drunken stupor when they had stumbled across him and whether or not he had recognized her.
Georgiana reassured him that Lord Denby had not fluttered an eyelash, and that she had not been enough in his company for him to recognize her if he had. It was a lie, of course, but George did not question it.
What worried her more than George's silence was her own observation of the countryside. She had been to Scotland once, a few years ago, and could remember with great vividness all the beauty of the countryside. Georgiana had even made a note of all the towns they had stopped at along the way, so that she would never forget them. When George had told her they were going to Gretna Green, she had brought along her little book of notes so that she could remember all the places.
They had passed three towns, and none of them had been familiar to her.
"George?"
George turned to look at her, annoyed. "Yes?"
"Where are we going?"
He looked a bit nervous. "Gretna Green."
"No. That is in Scotland, and this is not the road to Scotland."
"Did you tell anyone that we were going to Gretna Green?"
"No. Not even Mrs. Young. You asked me not to tell anyone, so I did not." She frowned. "Did you tell anyone?"
"Yes, which is why we are not currently on the road to Scotland. If someone is following us, as I suspect they might be, then it would be best for them not to find us just yet."
Georgiana felt relieved and allowed herself to relax. She knew that there was an explanation for the unfamiliar road.
George, satisfied that she would ask him nothing further, sat back in the carriage and looked out the window.
He had long ago decided that it would be best for Georgiana to think they were going to Gretna Green, and for him to tell Lydia that that was where they were headed, for he wanted no one to know that Ramsgate was his final destination.
He had used the last of his gambling profits to procure a special license, which would allow him to marry Miss Georgiana Darcy wherever he pleased. The money for the coach had come from Georgiana, who also paid for whatever expenses there would be on their journey. Georgiana did not think this odd, for George had been honest with her that he had no money. Georgiana had eagerly replied, "But I have thirty thousand pounds for a dowry!"
George had smiled, knowing full well the amount, and that her brother did not have the option of disinheriting her if he did not like her husband.
What he had said was, "I could not take your money, sweetling. I may not have much to be proud of, but I do have my pride."
"George, we are about to be married," she had protested. "Does that not mean that what is mine is yours as well?"
"I suppose it does."
"Then what should it matter that we begin this practice early? I do not care."
So, with as much reluctance as he could summon on command, George accepted her offer. It was a great boon to his whole scheme that Darcy's sister had turned out to be so lovely and eager. And generous.
He had no doubt that these things would continue after they were married.
George Wickham had been working for this objective ever since Darcy had interfered in his relationship with the Tysen girl. Although Mr. Tysen had not given him a reason for rejecting his suit of his daughter, he had said he had had him "investigated" and found him wanting. When George had pressed it further, Tysen had said he had asked several people who knew him to give their opinions.
Clearly, the opinions had not been good, and they had all come from Pemberley. It was the only piece of his background that George had given Sabrina, and when Mr. Tysen had informed him that he would refuse to give Sabrina a dowry if they married, George had cursed Fitzwilliam Darcy with all he had in him.
It had taken George two months to remember Georgiana and her thirty thousand pounds, which had been left to her by her father and could not be revoked regardless of whom she married. He had stealthily made his way into her life by blackmailing her companion, Mrs. Young, about an incident in her past which would make her most unfit to have the care of Miss Darcy. Then, once he knew everything about Georgiana, he arranged for them to meet.
He knew that once he did that, the rest would take care of itself. Had not old Mr. Darcy himself not said that he could charm anyone if he put his mind to it?
Now they were on the road to Ramsgate. When they arrived, he would find the nearest clergyman and marry Georgiana, and by the time her brother realized she was not in Gretna Green, it would be far too late to do anything about it.
Mr. Darcy rushed out of the boarding house. "They are not headed to Gretna Green!" he exclaimed, furious. "The only person who could tell me anything said they headed in the wrong direction. What can Wickham be about? He must marry Georgiana in order to receive her dowry. Gretna Green is the only place where they could marry hastily."
Elizabeth frowned and remembered something she had heard about a scandalous marriage. "He may already have the license," she said.
"He does not. If he had, my rector would have informed me immediately that my sister was attempting to marry someone."
"A special license would allow him to marry her anywhere."
"Those take time and money."
"How do you know this?"
Darcy would have chuckled at the look of consternation on her face but this was a serious matter. "A friend of mine had to be married in such a manner once. It does take time to arrange for one, and they are costly. I cannot believe that Wickham would have--"
"How long do you think he has been planning this? He is a cunning man. Lydia said it was a week ago that he told her he was marrying Georgiana. And...this may be upsetting, but it could be that she gave him the money for the license."
Darcy's face lost color. "Dear God. They could be anywhere, then."
Tom was running from the direction of the stables, where he had been inquiring after the missing couple. "They are not--"
"--headed to Gretna Green," Elizabeth and Darcy finished his sentence.
"Yes. But I talked to Harry Quartermain, one of the stable hands. He said Wickham asked him how far it was to Ramsgate."
"It may be another false trail. He has already lied to Lydia about his destination. He knew we would follow him this far," Darcy said.
"Or it could be the truth," Elizabeth said. "He did not ask anyone you would think of speaking to. He spoke to a servant. I think that we should go to Ramsgate."
Tom nodded. "At the next town, we shall ask if anyone has seen them. If they have, then we shall know we were correct. If not..."
Darcy sighed. "If not, then it is too late. Georgiana and Wickham shall be far enough away that we shall never catch them."
"That is not necessarily true," Elizabeth said. "My guess is that Georgiana is not going to be up to a long trip. They shall have to stop along the way, as they did here. They shall have to stop more than we shall, for we are all used to riding horses. We can still catch them...if we are wrong. But I think they are headed to Ramsgate."
"It makes sense, if you think about it. He tells Lydia he is marrying Georgiana. He plants the idea in Lydia's mind that he thinks Gretna Green is romantic. Gretna Green is the closest place two people can marry quickly. We are led to believe they are going there when in actuality they are going to Ramsgate," Tom said.
Darcy nodded. "Then we go to Ramsgate."
"Georgiana, this is the fifth time we have had to stop!" George snapped angrily as they came to a town. "First to stretch your legs, then you were hungry--"
"I could hardly help that, we left before the supper was to start."
"Then you said you felt nauseous--"
"Due to the fish, I should never have eaten that."
"And then you...you...needed privacy. Now you are hungry again. Are we never to reach Ramsgate?"
"I am sorry, George! If you had made provisions for this, we would not have had to stop to eat and I would not have gotten sick. Now I am hungry again. I cannot help it!"
"This is--" George reined in his temper. It would not do for Georgiana to change her mind and appear hesitant about marrying him. If the reverend had a moment's doubt as to whether or not Georgiana wished to marry him, he would not perform the ceremony. "I am sorry, Georgiana. You are right. I did not prepare correctly and it is going to cost us time."
"I do not see why you are so concerned about time anyway," she added. "You said yourself that no one knows where we are going."
"There is every possibility that they could figure out our destination, as many stops as we have had to make," George grumbled.
"If my brother is on the road to Gretna Green, then he has not the first suspicion that we are not going there." She put her hand on his sleeve--she dared not do anything more intimate until after they were married. "Put your fears to rest, George."
George smiled at her, though he was still furious at how slowly they were progressing. Still, she was thinking rationally and he was not. It was a good sign, for he admitted his weaknesses to himself on rare occasions and knew he was not the most rational thinker alive.
"It is to your great credit that you can think clearly," he told her. "It is one of things I greatly admire about you."
Georgiana beamed. "Thank you."
"While we are here, I think I shall make sure to buy plenty of food and drink for the remainder of our trip. Once we are traveling again I do not want to stop until we reach Ramsgate, unless it is absolutely necessary."
"Neither do I. Buy whatever you like, and I shall await you in the carriage." Georgiana handed him the money she thought he would need.
George took it eagerly, thinking that if only there had been enough time, he could have found far better uses for such a sum. Still, there would be plenty more where this came from, but not until they were wed.
George quickly took his leave of her and went to buy what he could find. He did take the opportunity to buy a flask of liquor, knowing that by the time this trip had ended, he would need it.
"We are getting closer," Elizabeth said she returned from the dress shop. "The proprietress of that shop said that she saw a carriage matching the one Wickham and Georgiana were in leaving this morning. She said that the gentleman stopped to buy food--a good deal of it. She said we are but three hours behind them."
"They might reach Ramsgate first if they make good speed," Tom said.
"And it looks as though Wickham intends to get there as fast as he can," Darcy added. "A good deal of food indicates that he does not intend to stop again if he can help it."
"We have gained time on them," Elizabeth said. "Once we knew for certain that they were on their way to Ramsgate, we have not had to stop as often as they probably have. We can continue to make good time as they cannot go as fast as we can, despite buying food."
"I do not want them to reach Ramsgate," Darcy said. "If they reach a larger town, there is a greater possibility of exposure. It does us no good to find them only for something to happen which forces Georgiana to marry him."
"Mr. Darcy..." Elizabeth hesitated.
"Yes, Elizabeth?"
"What are you planning to do when we find them? Georgiana has spent the entire evening alone with him, even if they have done nothing more than travel in a carriage. Wickham could threaten to ruin her reputation if you do not allow her to marry him. And even if you manage...to prevent his marrying your sister, there is nothing that would induce him to marry mine."
"He shall marry Lydia or I shall kill him," Tom said coldly.
"Papa!" Elizabeth cried. "You cannot say such a thing."
"George Wickham believed he could dally with a young girl because she was nothing to the rest of the world. If he continues to believe that, I shall see he pays the price."
"I think George would be more interested in making a profit than in marrying anyone," Darcy said. "If I would give him Georgiana's dowry without forcing them to marry, I think he would do it."
Elizabeth gasped. "Do you...do you have that great a sum?" she asked.
"No, and I would not give him that much. But I do realize that it shall take no small sum to convince him to give up his designs on my sister...and marry Lydia."
"I have an amount laid aside that might help persuade him," Tom said.
"Papa--" Elizabeth did not want to offend her father's pride by telling him that any small savings he might have would not do for a man like Wickham.
"I thank you, Tom, but it is my sister who has made this mess, and my fault that I was so blinded by..." At this, Darcy looked away before continuing. "...other things. I refuse to let you use any of your money. That is to be set aside for when you are too old to see to things in the stables."
Tom smiled briefly. "The day that I am too old to see to a horse will be the day I die," he said.
They continued on their journey.
The carriage had reached the outskirts of Ramsgate without stopping again. Georgiana was excited to see the town where she would be married and wished to delay the ceremony for a short while, but George would have none of it.
"We shall proceed directly to the church," he said decidedly.
Georgiana had started feeling extremely nervous as the journey continued, even though she knew why they were going to Ramsgate rather than Gretna Green, and she knew why George was nervous about all the stops they had had to make earlier in the trip. Something was wrong, and she was beginning to suspect that everything that seemed wrong to her had to do with George.
That cannot be right. You love George. George loves you. To think that he is hiding something from you is disloyal, Georgiana Darcy. You know it is.
"Georgiana?"
She looked away from the window and brought her attention back to George. "Yes?"
"I asked you if you had given any thought to our wedding trip."
"Is that not what we are on now?" she asked.
George laughed, and the knot that had formed in her stomach eased a bit. "I suppose you could say that," he replied. "But I meant something more extended. Ramsgate is a nice place, but there are far grander things on the continent."
Georgiana's eyes widened. "The continent? As in Europe?"
"Yes. I have been to wondrous places in France. There is this one--" George stopped speaking. The place he had been thinking of was not appropriate to mention to a young lady. "Anyway, there are many beautiful places to see. Would you like to see them, my little George?"
"More than anything in the world," she said, excited. She had not given much thought to what would happen after she had married George. All she had thought of was being his bride. Now she had a wedding trip to look forward to--in Europe!
George reached out to caress her cheek. "Then see them we shall...as soon as we are married."
"I love you," she said, her bright eyes shining.
I want to remember this day above all others, she thought. It is surely the happiest day of my life.
George smiled. "I love you as well. Driver! Get us to the church--we want to get married!"