Jane could not help but admit that she felt terribly scared and that the situation seemed to have progressed from a horrid one, to something even worse. She had lost her only ally when Mr. Townsend had turned upon her with the knife. Now, she truly was alone and without a single piece of knowledge as to where she was or what she would do.

She had not seen the woman in quite some time, after they had tied up her wrists and ankles and pushed her into a covered carriage. Inside, Mr. Townsend rode alongside with her, and Jane did her best to sit perfectly still, hoping not to draw the silver knife upon her throat again (where it still did sting from where it had been dug in before).

Every now and then, she hazarded a glance up at him and felt icy fear clutch her when she realised he had not once taken his eyes off of her.

"Are you feeling well, Mrs. Bingley?" The truly vile thing was that his voice was still quite kind, as though he was still the same gentle man that she had known for the years of her marriage to Charles.

However, now she did know the truth, and inclined her gaze lower. "I hardly see why you would care," she spoke demurely, keeping her eyes upon the floor of the carriage. "You seem to wish me harm."

"Hardly," Mr. Townsend soothed her, shifting off his seat and sitting beside her. "In fact, Mrs. Bingley, what we want is exactly the opposite. So long as you are with us, no harm shall come to you, but we must have you with us."

"Why?" Jane inquired, truly clueless as to her purpose.

Mr. Townsend's face curved up into a rather unpleasant smile that made Jane cringe to see. He moved a hand closer and though it appeared for a moment that he was going to rest his hand upon her shoulder, he eased away. "You've something quite precious that we want."

Jane's mind immediately turned to her most precious possessions. Surely, they were going to steal the ring? She did love it ever so and Charles had given it to her upon their wedding. Or perhaps the earrings he had bestowed her on their first anniversary? She exhaled worriedly, trying not to let Mr. Townsend see her fear, and glanced away, unable to see any of the countryside passing as there were black drapes covering the windows.

"We're taking you to a very nice place," he assured her. "Where you will stay for the next few months."

His words alarmed Jane quite terribly and she stared at him, confused. " i Months /i !" she remarked, horrified. "This cannot be. Charles will find me. My husband will find me," she insisted, sounding more as though she was begging.

"Do you know," Mr. Townsend ruminated thoughtfully. "How easy, Mrs. Bingley, it is to keep a secret?" His gaze flickered back to her and she found herself frightened by the icy smile. "Especially such a large one?"

"What secret?" she asked, as he seemed to pause, as though he was waiting for her to fulfill the curiosities and ask.

Mr. Townsend leaned in, smiling wider yet as he rested a hand on Jane's stomach. "You've been pregnant, Mrs. Bingley, for several months now. Which is why I do hope you won't try anything daring in escaping, harming the child in the process."

Jane froze in place, thoughts flickering to mind about how it could not be possible. She had asked about the lack of affliction and had been assured it was merely stress, that occasionally, women did not experience it every month (and by and large, it was true, as when she was younger, Jane had sometimes not experiences her time of month and even then, Mama had comforted her).

Her pallor had lightened. "That's not possible," she insisted. "I assure you, I cannot be. I did not experience any sickness."

"You did," Mr. Townsend assured. "I merely had the cook prepare meals that were quite neutral and would not upset you."

Jane's shock gave way to anger and fear once more and she stared at him. "You cannot have my child," she protested, far louder and more vehement about this one thing than she had ever been before in her life. Her gaze took on a stern character and she rose up in her seat.

They would not get away with this so very easily. Jane would make sure of that…somehow.

"Would you like some tea, dear?" Mrs. Townsend inquired demurely, as she led Bingley down the narrow halls of her London townhome. Bingley, however, was too busy surveying each painting, each rug, each piece of furniture as if it contained a clue that would lead him to his beloved. "I've just put some on!"

She seemed a pleasant woman, if a little distracted and Bingley gave a distracted, 'yes, thank you', because really, there was no need to be rude, even in such situations.

As he wandered down the halls, it seemed the perfectly pleasant hearth of a woman separated from her husband and Bingley sighed, feeling the disappointment of a failed task wearing at him more than he wished to experience. She must have seen it so clearly on his face, for Mrs. Townsend turned and immediately made a sound of sympathy, as though she were his mother consoling him.

"What's the matter?" she asked.

"I don't suppose," he began, attempting the question, even though he knew there was little chance that she might be of help, "that you have seen a beautiful blonde woman with the radiance of an angel about, who answers to the name Mrs. Jane Bingley?"

For a moment, merely the sound of teacups clinking and clashing together sounded in the air, and then, Bingley felt a hand upon his shoulder. He looked down at her as he was offered a cup of tea.

"I cannot say that I have," Mrs. Townsend responded. "But, do sit. I may not have seen her, but I have heard of your wife."

Bingley took umbrage immediately, for Jane did not merit rumours spread about her and anger flickered over his fair features. "What has been said!" He rose to his feet, nearly smacking his fist upon the table. "I assure you, it isn't true," he swore. "Whatever was said."

Mrs. Townsend regarded him calmly, merely sipping at her own tea.

"What was said?" Bingley asked, rather pleading now.

"When you calm yourself, dear, I will tell you," Mrs. Townsend assured, extending the bowl of sugar to him. "One lump, or two."

Presently, no amount of sugar was going to satisfy him. Not until he knew what was afoot.

tbc