The Secrets of Darcy and Elizabeth: A Pride and Prejudice Variation (38 page)

Instantly Darcy’s arms went around Elizabeth. “I am so sorry, my love, that you must endure such abuse from my family.”

She leaned her head on his shoulder. “Well, you have endured a great deal of unpleasantness from my family as well.” She smiled impertinently at him. “If we always apologize for the misbehavior of our families, we will spend the rest of our lives in nothing but contrition. Perhaps, for the sake our sanity, we should forsake the apologies now.”

Darcy laughed outright, very pleased she could jest about it; however, he sensed her continued uneasiness and tightened his hold around her shoulders. The visit from Lady Catherine had cost her some measure of peace of mind. For that, he could not forgive his aunt.

“Perhaps we should have an early supper and retire for the night, dearest?” She said, smiling enticingly.
Very well
, Darcy thought
. If that will ease some of her distress, I am happy to oblige.

He smiled down at her. “I do not know, my love…” His voice took on a teasing quality. “Having ejected two people from my house today, I am becoming quite practiced at it. Perhaps we should simply stay in the drawing room and await the appearance of someone else we can banish.”

Now it was Elizabeth’s turn to smile. “I doubt we could find another person so capable of giving offense. Mr. Collins is still in Kent!” They shared a laugh.

They passed a quiet evening at home. The following morning, Darcy worked on estate matters and Elizabeth kept him company in the study. After luncheon, Darcy returned to work and Elizabeth took her usual afternoon stroll, deciding to visit Hyde Park.

It was a beautiful day and Elizabeth tipped her head back so the sun could shine on her face. Her mother would tell her she should avoid getting a tan, but the warmth felt so lovely, she could not forgo it. She had visited Hyde Park many times already and was quite familiar with the route. The day was rather warm so the street was traversed by few other travelers.

A block from the park, Elizabeth found her way unexpectedly blocked by a rather big man. She attempted to navigate around him, but he grabbed her arm to stop her. His grip was like an iron shackle on Elizabeth’s upper arm; she could not pull it free. Outraged, Elizabeth looked up and saw that her captor was Wickham!

Before she could say anything – before she could barely form a thought – he covered her mouth with his hand. She struggled fiercely to break free from him, but even as she did so, another man approached behind her and clamped her arms tightly by her side – effectively paralyzing her. Together the two men lifted her as if she weighed nothing and pushed her through the open door of a carriage that was waiting by the curb. Wickham did not remove his hand from her mouth until the coach had started to move, by which time any screams Elizabeth made were drowned out by the clatter of the carriage. The entire occurrence had taken less than a minute and nobody on the street had noticed anything untoward.

Chapter 14

It was around five o’clock when Colonel Fitzwilliam responded to an urgent summons to Darcy House. He found his cousin glaring at a map of London spread on a table in the house’s front hall – one glance at Darcy and the Colonel knew something was seriously wrong. His cousin’s usually impeccable hair was a mess and his cravat was untied while his face was gray with anguish.

Losing no time on greetings, Fitzwilliam asked, “What is it?”

“Elizabeth is missing! She went for a walk this afternoon and never returned.” Darcy’s voice was harsh with anxiety.

“Perhaps she lost track of the time or went to visit a friend?” Fitzwilliam inquired, attempted to restrain his own sense of panic.

Darcy shook his head vigorously. “She knows few people in London beyond the Gardiners and they have not seen her today. My men and I have combed Hyde Park for her to no avail. She would never be so irresponsible as to remain away this long without sending word.” Darcy turned back to the map, clutching the edge desperately. “I have not the faintest idea where to begin searching for her. She could be anywhere! I am only hoping she is still in London.” He banged his fist on the table so hard that a vase of flowers quivered.

“I will summon some of my friends from the garrison to help,” Fitzwilliam said at once.

Darcy shot him a grateful look. “Thank you. I have asked for assistance from the Bow Street Runners, but they do not have many men and there is a lot of city to search.” The Colonel scribbled a hasty note and Darcy rang for a footman to take it.

Fitzwilliam regarded Darcy, who was peering intently at the map; one hand tightened convulsively around a corner of the paper, crushing it. “Why did I not send a footman with her?” He moaned.

Fitzwilliam spoke levelly. “We must think rationally. If she is not with friends or on her own, we must consider the possibility of foul play.”

Darcy’s expression darkened, but he did not glance up from the map. “Believe me, I have.”

His cousin continued in a measured tone. “It is doubtful she would be subject to random violence between here and Hyde Park during daylight hours. I suppose a careful abduction might be conducted without raising suspicions. But who?”

“I cannot imagine. No one knows of our marriage, so she unlikely to be the target of a ransom demand.” Darcy’s eyes narrowed. “Of course, Aunt Catherine is in town.”

Fitzwilliam grinned. “I think she would have trouble overpowering Elizabeth. Although, she is desperate over your ‘engagement’ she might hire someone.”

Darcy shook his head slowly. “No, I do not believe she could be involved in something so nefarious.”

“Who else, then?”

“Wickham!” Darcy exclaimed.

“Wickham is in town?” Fitzwilliam cried. “Why did you not tell me?”

“I saw him yesterday,” Darcy said tersely. “I am attempting to persuade him to marry Lydia Bennet. But, what would he have to gain by kidnapping Elizabeth?”

“I can think of three dozen things off the top of my head. Beginning with the opportunity to avenge himself on the man he has always hated and ending with the likelihood that you would pay him any amount of money to recover Elizabeth.”

Darcy’s grimace confirmed that statement, but then he shook his head. “I find it difficult to believe Wickham is capable of this kind of evil. He might lie and cheat – or take an opportunity that comes his way, but he has never stooped to actual criminal behavior.”

“Maybe he encountered Elizabeth on the street and seized an opportunity for mischief.” Darcy was still shaking his head. “He is the most plausible perpetrator. It is either him or a completely unknown villain. At least with Wickham we have some ideas where he could be found.”

Darcy ran his hands over his face. “I suppose. I could pay Mrs. Younge a call and discover if she knows where he might be.”

Suddenly a door at the back of the hall opened with a bang and Darcy’s cook rushed in with a piece of paper in her hand. “If you please, sir. A boy just left this at the back entrance. The back entrance! I told him messages should be delivered at the front, but he ran away before I could ask him where he come from.”

Fearing the worst, Darcy ripped the message from the cook’s hand and tore it open. Wide-eyed, she quickly retreated down the hall and back into the kitchen. Fitzwilliam watched Darcy as he hurriedly read the letter. When he was finished, the paper simply fell from his fingers as Darcy froze with an expression of pure horror on his face.

“What is it?” Seeing that no answer would be immediately forthcoming, Fitzwilliam retrieved the note from the floor.

Dear Darcy,

Seems I was right. Elizabeth does prefer my company to yours. I encountered her by chance on the street and she begged me quite eloquently to take her away from you. I could not, in good conscience, refuse. She has asked me to tell you she hopes you will not search for her. It would only cause a scandal and she does care about you a little after all. Just not enough.

Yours,

George Wickham.

Fitzwilliam read the letter through again and snorted a laugh, the unexpected sound bringing Darcy to life. “As if you would actually believe she would elope with George Wickham!”

“You think the note is untrue?”

“Untrue? Of course it is—” Fitzwilliam stopped and regarded his cousin’s frozen visage carefully. Darcy had turned his head toward his cousin, but his gaze seemed more inward than anything else. “You do not believe any part of this, do you?”

Darcy walked back to the table, turning his back on Fitzwilliam and staring blankly at the map of London. “When Wickham was here yesterday, he reminded me that back in Hertfordshire there was a time when Elizabeth preferred him to me.”

“But that was before she knew his true character!”

“He said he had kissed her in the garden at Longbourn and that he knew she still harbored a passion for him.”

Fitzwilliam shook his head. “You are an idiot! To believe those lies after everything Elizabeth has been to you. I have never seen a woman so besotted in all my life. She barely notices that other men exist!”

Darcy glanced at his cousin briefly to ascertain how deeply his cousin believed his words. Then he returned his gaze to the map. “But if not for my fortune—”

“She cares nothing for your fortune. She loves
you
. I have never been more certain of anything in my life.” Darcy’s head remained bowed over the table and Fitzwilliam could not see his face, but he decided to attempt another strategy. “See here, if Elizabeth had decided to elope with Wickham, why would she have him write the letter for her? He probably attempted to have her pen such a letter, but she refused, so he had to do it. And the letter mentions nothing about your marriage. It is written as if you and Elizabeth are engaged. Eloping after marriage is quite a different matter from breaking off an engagement. Divorces are very difficult to obtain.”

“That is true.” Darcy began straightening up.

“Elizabeth is a very clever woman,” Fitzwilliam continued. “She would not believe she could escape your marriage so easily – if she wished to, which I am certain she does not.”

The Colonel paused for a moment, allowing these words to sink in. Darcy’s eyes were closed and his face was etched with pain, but then he shook his head emphatically as if to clear out the negative thoughts. Fitzwilliam clapped him on the shoulder. “Wickham knows you entirely too well. He knows exactly where you are most vulnerable. You should not allow him to manipulate you.”

Darcy combed his fingers through his hair. “You are right. I
am
being an idiot.”

“Of course. I am always right.” Fitzwilliam tried to focus his cousin on the task at hand. “This note is good news. We can narrow our search to those places frequented by Wickham – or places accessible to him. It will be far simpler than searching the whole of London.”

Darcy returned to the desk and penned a quick note. “I am sending word to Bow Street now. They have been investigating Wickham for a long time. They know his haunts.” Darcy rang for a footman to take the note and the man left. “And you and I should visit Mrs. Younge,” Darcy started toward the door.

Fitzwilliam stopped him with a hand to his arm, his eyes bright with concern. “You and I know that Wickham’s note lies. He and Elizabeth are not eloping. But have you considered his true motivation? He could wrest quite a bit of money from you in ransom. Money is usually behind his every action, but this letter does not mention it.”

“True. Perhaps he is attempting to shake my confidence and then demand money.”

Fitzwilliam nodded slowly, lost in thought. “Perhaps. Or perhaps he has a completely different motivation.”

“You mean seduction?” Darcy asked, his face grim.

Fitzwilliam nodded. “But we can be confident she will not respond to his ‘charms.’”

Darcy’s expression was thunderously dark. “And what will he do when she refuses to be seduced? Good Lord, we must locate her immediately!”

Elizabeth stared out the window again, but it was too high to climb down. It could be opened, she had discovered, but if she climbed out there would be nothing between her and the ground. She was not that desperate – yet. After trapping her in the carriage, Wickham and his henchmen had brought Elizabeth to this town house – in a part of the city she did not recognize – and locked her in this musty attic room on the third floor, most likely a former servant’s room. They had not been rough or threatening; in fact, Wickham talked very smoothly, but she was not fooled. She was a prisoner.

It had been at least four hours since her kidnapping; the sun was starting to set.
William must be frantic with worry
, she thought. He would have no idea where she was or if she was all right.

Elizabeth turned her thoughts once more to the problems of her captivity, reviewing the contents of the room for anything that might help her escape. But the small room only contained two mismatched wooden chairs, a rough table, and narrow bed. The table held the remains of a simple meal they had provided, but Elizabeth’s anxiety had extinguished her appetite, and she had not touched the bread and cheese.