The Disappearance of Georgiana Darcy: A Pride and Prejudice Mystery (12 page)

“Papa, it was not like that,” Lydia protested.

Mr. Bennet shook off her objections. “We are both aware that in your imagination, a visit to Brighton comprised every possibility of earthly happiness. You saw it with the creative eye of fancy; the streets of that gay bathing place covered with officers and you the object of attention to scores of them. You dreamed of the pleasures of so benevolent a scheme. However, we can revisit these fancies, or we can determine what might best serve you in your marriage.” His matter-of-fact attitude said that he did not expect a response. “What was begun as a matter of prudence soon grew into a matter of choice. You have made your bed, Lydia, and you must learn to lie comfortably in it. Marriage is forever.” He glanced at the woman who had once fascinated him, but who now vexed his hard-earned peace of mind.

“I have tried, Papa,” his daughter said softly.

“Then you will try again.” He nodded to his wife. “If Lieutenant Wickham has truly returned to Carlisle without you, your mother will escort you home after Kitty's wedding. I have already promised Mr. Darcy to see to Lizzy and Bennet. The great man intends an extended business journey in the North. If Mrs. Bennet will agree, you may use my coach.”

“Certainly, I shall agree,” his wife assured.

“Shall I be allowed to attend my sister's nuptials?” Lydia asked contritely.

Mr. Bennet held her steady gaze. “I will speak to Lizzy's husband, but only if you promise no words of this incident nor of past grievances will be spoken by you during the festivities. Nothing is to dampen Kitty's memory of her wedding.” He reached for Lydia's hand and patted the back of it. “I suspect it is best that you remain here tonight. At least, until we determine if Lieutenant Wickham
intends to return. Under no circumstances will Lizzy or Mr. Darcy accept your husband at Pemberley.”

“Would you prefer that I remain with you this evening?” Mrs. Bennet offered.

Lydia said childlike, “Would you, Mama? I have missed everyone so.”

Mrs. Bennet tightened her hold on the girl. “No more than your absence has clouded our time at Longbourn.”

“It is beautiful,” Mary Joseph said as she and Elizabeth strolled armin-arm across the abbey's ground.

“It is one of my favorite places in Derbyshire,” Elizabeth said wistfully. “Do not tell Mr. Darcy's Uncle Matlock, but I prefer this ancient woodland, with its fine beech and oak trees, to the Earl's combed lawns at Matley Manor.”

Mary nodded her agreement. “Do you come here often?”

“The first time I saw the abbey, Mr. Darcy's sister arranged our trip.” They leisurely traversed the well-worn path. “It was shortly after I had lost the first of our children, and Mr. Darcy had been called away for a business appointment. Up to that point in our marriage, we had never been separated for more than a few hours, and I was taking it quite hard. That is until Georgiana insisted that I accompany her on a day trip to these exquisite ruins, and here I found peace. Miss Darcy understood me better than I did myself.” They walked in silence for several minutes. “Did you know an appearance of the Virgin Mary to a Derby baker inspired Deepedale? She counseled the man to live in solitude and prayer.”

Mary said nothing for several minutes, but then she began to giggle. Her mirth grew and soon both women laughed openly. Happy tears streamed from their eyes, and they clung to one
another. Although she did notice her husband's hesitation at interrupting their exchange, Darcy's approach could not smother their jollity. She wondered if he considered her earlier snit. She had no excuse other than the emotional swings of her pregnancy. She certainly did not consider Rose Winkler a threat to her marriage. “What brings two lovely ladies such joy?” he asked with a smile.

Elizabeth wiped at her weepy eyes and attempted to remove the smile from her face. “Just the tale of a hermit carving out a home and a chapel in a sandstone cliff,” she rasped between softening breaths.

Although not recognizing the source of their mirth, Darcy chuckled. “Women. How are men to understand them?”

“You are not to know the depths of our reasoning,” Elizabeth said pertly.

He smiled lovingly at his wife. “Yet, what a magnificent way to be driven insane.” He bowed courtly to the women. “And now, my ladies, I have been summoned to fetch you. Our carriages await.”

“Must we?” Elizabeth protested weakly.

Darcy offered an arm to each woman. “If we do not, your sister may lose a future husband. Kitty is feeling quite neglected because Mr. Winkler and Mr. Joseph have engaged in a thoroughly theological debate for nearly an hour. I have proposed that our party stop at the Dove and Dale in Derby for refreshments before our return to Pemberley. I have also suggested to my future brother in marriage that if he requires an equality in his joining, that he should soothe your sister's peevishness with an extra dose of his attentions.”

Elizabeth smiled widely at him. “As you have learned, Mr. Darcy?” she teased.

He edged her closer to his side with a flex of his forearm. “Why learn a valuable lesson if one cannot pass on the knowledge?” he countered.

“I shall remind Mr. Joseph of those obligations,” Mary said. “My husband grieves for the opportunity to discuss his readings with other knowledgeable followers of God's word, but Matthew can sometimes lose sight of everyday situations.”

Elizabeth tightened her fingers about Darcy's arm. “I was telling Mrs. Joseph of my first visit to the abbey. It seems odd to be among these structures without Mrs. Fitzwilliam.”

“I pray my sister is happy with her new life, but I admit to experiencing a void in mine.”

“How many be there?” The house's master asked as his mother joined him on the turret.

“Four, not countin' the woman we brought in,” she said as she scanned the open fields leading to the family's main property. It was a former Scottish keep that had been repaired and added to over the years. The style was a mix of former barbarism and contemporary elegance. The woman closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. The mist rolled across the Scottish moors, and the woman beside him rose on tiptoes as if to embrace the land.

The man intoned harshly, “Be we not countin' the woman?”

“I be thinkin'. Aulay will soon be needin' a wife.”

Domhnall protested, “Surely, the lady has a man. She not be needin' another to warm her bed.”

His mother shook her head in denial. “The lady say he be dead, and there be more. She be with child.”

He roughly grabbed her arm and turned her to him. “How came ye to this knowledge?”

“As you instructed, I brought the gel a warmer gown. Wanted to see her meself. See if'n she be worthy of Aulay. She be thin as we say before, but her waist shows signs of the growth below the lady's bosom.”

“You would thrust another man's child on Aulay? My brother is barely capable of tending to his own needs. How might he protect a bairn when he remains so childlike himself?”

She returned her gaze to the rolling hills and woodlands. “Aulay will never earn another's affection,” she said without rancor. “And the gel will need someone to save her reputation. Her accent say she be English. You shud know better than I how priggish be the English regarding their womenfolk. Besides, she comes from money. The child will inherit a fortune. If Aulay takes the gel to wife, we control both the woman and the bairn, and her family can do nothin' more than turn over the funds. We could leave this madness behind.”

“But you designed the madness,” he observed. They remained silent for several minutes as he contemplated what she suggested. “And you are certain of the lady's fortune?”

“I sent Blane to ask about the area where she be found. I be having no doubts.”

His eyes narrowed in arrogance. Her smile announced how pleased she was at having bested his plans for the woman. He could not permit the girl to walk away, but not for the reasons his mother suspected. She thought only of the possible profit. He thought of the possibility of losing a woman he had yet to meet properly. “I be considering your words,” he warned menacingly. He would have to discover another way of diverting the danger in which his mother had embroiled them, but for now, he would play the hand she had dealt him.

She thought of her family's letter. The news had sent her racing across the moor. Foolishly trying to outrun the pain. As she considered it now, she realized the Countess had written in haste. Without all the facts. If Edward were truly dead, she would have known immediately. Her heart would have split in halves. She would have felt the emptiness—the dark void of losing the man she dearly loved.

“Into such a conundrum you have gotten yourself,” she moaned. The cot's edge cut into her side as she turned herself to lie flat on her back. “Think, Georgiana,” she chastised herself. “You must think your way clear of this.” The darkness filled the room, and she accepted her need to sleep. “A few hours. Dream of Edward and of Fitzwilliam and of Elizabeth. Dream of your family.”

Mr. Bennet had waited patiently for the return of Pemberley's guests. A light knock on his sitting room door signaled his daughter's concern. “Come in, Lizzy,” he called.

The door opened immediately, and she slipped into the room. “How did you know it was I?” she asked as she joined him before the empty hearth.

“Who else would call on an old man besides a beloved daughter?” He reached for the glass of brandy on the side table.

Elizabeth sat quietly and waited for him to finish his drink. “Did you have your evening meal?”

“Mrs. Oliver sent up a tray.” He paused before adding, “I spent some time in the nursery with my grandchildren. They grow so quickly; I wanted to capture a few moments to add to my memories.” His smile turned up his mouth's corners. “Your Bennet will give Jackson a rough way to go—very much as you did with Jane. You always ruled the Bennet nursery.”