Air dark. Cold and shivering, January air.
Georgiana stood in this light coat in the middle of the gardens at Trinity Square, an open space just north of the Tower of London. She could see the imposing structure easily from where she stood.
What could she do?
Where could she go?
Asking Fitzwilliam for help was not an option.
Unfortunately, she had no options.
Friends from school?
None of them would see her, she was sure of that. She'd once seen one on Bond Street, and the girl had caught her eye, sneered, and deliberately walked to the other side of the road, followed by her two footmen, their arms filled with parcels from her shopping expedition.
It was so cold. The icy wind ripped through her clothes. The pelisse that she wore had been soaked by the rain two hours ago, shortly after she'd fled the house she had shared with Mr. Wickham, and it had been intended for pleasanter weather than this.
There were many homeless persons in the city. They must have some method that allowed them to survive winter nights. Perhaps she could imitate them tonight. Though even they usually had a patched and stuffed winter coat.
Perhaps she could hide under a bridge, or in a corner of a park.
Her teeth started chattering.
Go to Fitzwilliam. He'll protect you, and make sure that your husband can't ever hurt you.
It was that evil whisper that became louder as the thin winter sun set and the air froze.
She was not a Darcy. Not any longer. She needed to find a solution to her own difficulties.
Georgiana slapped her hands together and then jumped up and down, hopping until she breathed in hard gusts of air.
She still felt frozen.
Standing here was not an option.
A bright cheeked flaxen-haired girl rushed up the pathway towards Georgiana, shouting "Shoo shoo" at a barking white poodle who chased after her.
Laughing, the girl hid behind Georgiana. Georgiana stared at the dog who stopped at seeing the barrier between himself and his target.
The dog sat down, and then rolled over to present his belly to them both.
Giggling the girl stepped out and bravely rubbed the fluffy white monster as it wished.
Georgiana smiled at the pair; she'd always found it easier to be near children than other adults. There wasn't this sense with children that she was constantly behaving in some manner that was slightly wrong, and she never worried that she was silently being judged.
She'd hoped the whole time she had been married that at least she would soon have a child who she could lavish her affections upon.
Despite six months of dutifully submitting her body to Wickham's regular use, there had been no hint of a child.
Seeing how Georgiana studied her, the girl smiled with one of those childish grins that can make any day brighter. "You saved me from Hector! He likes to chase me. He thinks he is a Greek warrior like Hector, but he's actually a lapdog."
Georgiana knelt next to them and took her turn to rub the dog's ears and belly. "A pretty creature. But Hector was a Trojan, he fought the Greeks."
"Oh."
Seeing the disappointed expression on the girl's face, Georgiana hurriedly added, "It is still a very good name for a dog. And Hector was a great warrior."
"He's the greatest dog!"
Despite her smile Georgiana she felt extremely stiff and shivery as she stood back up after petting the dog.
The girl now studied her. She then asked, "Why aren't you wearing a winter coat?"
"I forgot it at home."
"My Mama would never let me leave home without putting on a proper coat." The girl looked pensive, and then smiled at Georgiana. "You should go back and get it. It is very cold."
"I can't," Georgiana replied. She pressed her lips together. "I can't ever go home."
"What! Never? You look sad!"
"I am. But do not worry about me." She smiled at the girl. "I am Georgiana—" She stopped. She should not use her name anyways, as Wickham and Younge would look for her and ask questions, and even though it was very unlikely they'd search in this particular neighborhood near the center of the city, she still shouldn't tell anyone her real name.
"Georgiana? But what's your family name? — I'm Elizabeth Gardiner, I have the same name as my aunt. She is the best aunt, and she is visiting right now. But everyone calls me Beth."
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Gardiner." Despite her shivers, Georgiana managed a curtsey that her school mistress would not have been ashamed to own as belonging to one of her students.
"I am delighted to meet you as well, Miss Georgiana," Miss Gardiner replied with the same solemnity, and she curtsied as well, though with rather less polish.
"Why can't you go home?" the girl asked. "I'd hate to lose my home. Did you run away? I once ran away, but Mama followed me, and when I reached the square with the Bank of England, I was tired and hungry, so I let her stop me. She bought me a meat pie from one of the stands and called a hackney to carry us home. You should come home with me!"
"I thank you for your kind offer." Georgiana shook her head. Her teeth began chattering. "I can't."
She obviously couldn't. But she needed to do something.
The afternoon sun was almost wholly gone, and she was chilled to the bone.
Two women trailed by two other children strolled up the cobbled pathway. They both brightened upon seeing Miss Gardiner and the dog Hector. "Beth, there you went — running about everywhere." The yellow-haired woman was exceptionally beautiful, and she had a way of walking that made Georgiana instantly terribly jealous. She seemed to almost float above the ground, while Georgiana was simply tall, awkward, and too lean.
That woman smiled as she hurried forward, and said to the child in a scolding tone, "You worried us."
The other, a brown-haired woman with a twisted smile hurried forward and picked up Miss Gardiner, grunting under her weight as she did so. "I did not worry. Not an iota. I knew Hector would defend you."
Miss Gardiner pointed at Georgiana. "This is Miss Georgiana, she told me that Hector was actually a Trojan, not a Greek."
The brown-haired woman laughed. "Quite right, quite right. He was not one of the Achaeans, but rather their opponent."
"Miss Georgiana needs help. She left home without her coat, and she says she can't ever go back. She's sad. Look at her. She is cold. We need to let her come home with us so she can get warm."
"Now, now," the blonde woman said comfortingly, "I am sure Miss Georgiana is perfectly well, and she does not need our— oh my. Where is your coat? You are shivering."
Georgiana shook her head. "I don't need any help. I really do not."
"Are you sure?" the blonde woman repeated. "Our home is on Gracechurch Street, not too distant — you might warm up in the drawing room while we send a message to your friends."
"No, I cannot accept any help." Georgiana's teeth clattered. She desperately tried to stand up straight and not look pathetic.
Why was she saying that she did not need help?
She was desperate, but a set of instincts that were buried deep in her mind took over — without help she might freeze to death during the night, but she still insisted, when asked, that she needed no help.
Her father's voice seemed to sound in her head, telling her to die rather than humiliate herself: She was no poor object of charity. She was a Darcy, and Darcys offered help, they never needed, begged for it.
"Are you certain you do not need help?" the flaxen-haired woman insisted. "It really is no trouble for you to come with us."
"I do not." Georgiana somehow could not stop herself from standing imperiously taller and firmly saying, "I am not such a person as to ever be in need of charity."
The yellow-haired woman nodded. "If you are certain…"
She was going to die, but it was impossible to tell them that no, she had just lied, and she did need help.
The brown-haired woman put Miss Gardiner down and she studied Georgiana with a deep frown.
"You need help." She began to unbutton her coat. "You only are unable to admit it. You remind me of someone, someone dear to me."
Without asking Georgiana for any sort of permission, the woman wrapped her coat around her and helped her put it on.
Georgiana instantly felt better from the body heat that was retained by the coat, but she was still desperately cold.
The woman clapped her hands together several times and shook herself. "No cold like January cold. I will not stand here talking. Let's go, let's go — you as well. That coat is a loan, not a gift. Come along."
The woman took Georgiana's arm and led them, while the other children clustered around the exceptionally beautiful yellow-haired woman and followed them.
"Do you have a family name?" she asked, "Or is Georgiana the family name?"
"I should not use it." Georgiana said, "I do not know what to call myself."
"Incognito?" the other woman replied cheerfully. "I hope this shall be fun. I knew there must be something peculiar about you from the instant I saw you. Do not tell us your true name — not unless you are ready. I trust you without. I'm Miss Elizabeth Bennet, and this is my sister Jane. She's the Miss Bennet."
"And your niece is Elizabeth Gardiner?"
"Yes, yes." The woman smiled, her eyes sparkling. "She seems determined that we will help you. But we must find a name to call you then, if Georgiana is your Christian name."
One of the boys trailing after offered, "Call her Terry, then she'll be Miss-tery."
He giggled, and Miss Gardiner shoved her brother. "That is not nice."
"It is nice!"
"So not Terry, then, what else—"
"It is Mrs.," Georgiana said quietly. "I am married."
"And unhappily," the Miss Elizabeth replied. She clapped her hands together twice and shook herself violently. "How could you stand to be out in the cold so long without a better coat? — We'll name you Mrs. Warm then, since you seem to be warm in any weather — ah, and here we are."
The woman led them up the steps to the entrance to a fine townhouse and opened the door. The poodle who'd followed along, nipping at Miss Gardiner's heels, rushed in the instant the door was wide enough for him to sneak around it, and the children rushed in almost as fast.
Georgiana felt a deep anxiety suddenly.
She was being brought here, as a stranger, as a beggar. She would be subjected to examination, and she would be seen as someone who was in a place they did not belong, doing things that they ought not do.
The instant she was in the door, Georgiana took off the coat and tried to hand it to Miss Elizabeth. "I really do not need—"
The woman laughingly held up her hands. "Meal and fire. If you insist on running about outside afterwards with no friends and nowhere to go, it shall not be upon my conscience."
Another woman who from family appearance was clearly the mother of Beth Gardiner and her brothers entered the room. She was dressed surprisingly fashionably for a house in Cheapside, which Georgiana knew was a place always sneered at by her classmates for being where tradesmen lived when she was in school.
With a curious smile, she said to Georgiana, "Hello?"
Miss Elizabeth replied for Georgiana, "Beth picked up another stray. Miss Georgiana — I mean we are to call her Mrs. Warm, unless you object, is a person of unspecifiable family name who was wandering London without a coat."
"Ah." The tone of that reply was rather reproving.
Miss Elizabeth laughed. "You said I ought find something new to worry myself upon! And look at her. I would wager ten pounds that there is not the slightest harm in her."
Miss Gardiner bounded back into the entry hallway and grabbed Georgiana's hand. "This is Mrs. Georgiana! Mama, I like her. She saved me from Hector when he chased me. But she didn't know that Hector was just a lapdog, not a dangerous warrior."
"I see." Mrs. Gardiner's posture eased and the concern in her face dissipated. "I can hardly refuse hospitality to a person willing to fight such a monster as Hector."
The dog bounded back into the room and circled round them several times before barking once when Beth grabbed him around the neck and hugged him.
"Well then, well." Mrs. Gardiner tapped her chin. "And what sort of help do you need, Mrs. Warm?"
Georgiana did not at first respond to her question, not realizing it was directed at her. She watched the dog and the little girl play. Miss Elizabeth touched her on the shoulder. "That's your nom de plume."
"Oh, what, yes, yes — I do not need any help." Georgiana found herself standing tall, and adopting an expression that she was sure was typical of her father. "I am certain that I shall manage my present difficulties on my own."
Miss Elizabeth looked at her with a considering frown. "She repeats that, always. You see why I could not simply leave her to freeze out by the tower — unless someone took command of this poor girl, she'd have frozen to death rather than begging help. Look at her, her fingers are still red."
"I can see." Mrs. Gardiner frowned thoughtfully. Her expression was far more serious. "I will not call you Mrs. Warm — what is your Christian name?"
"Georgiana."
"Very good. Georgiana, it is quite clear that however rare it is for a member of your family to need help, you have managed to fall into that odd situation. No use denying it."
Georgiana's face heated up. But oddly despite her embarrassment she was set more at her ease by these words.
"No. I suppose…" Her breath whooshed out. Suddenly, for the first time since she'd heard of this plot to murder her, she allowed herself to feel. "Oh, Lord. Oh, Lord. Lord save me, Lord save me. Oh, oh, oh."
She shuddered, shivers running through her, far worse than when she had been cold. "Oh, bloody, deuce, damn. Oh, oh, oh."
Beth looked up with her arm wrapped tightly around the white poodle and stared at her in confusion.
Mrs. Gardiner quickly took her arm. "Into the drawing room. Come, come. Sit there — Molly, have Cook prepare tea. And chocolate also. Never mind that dinner is half ready. Sit there, Georgiana. Sit down." Mrs. Gardiner wrapped a blanket that had been neatly folded on the edge of the divan around Georgiana. "A cup of tea will set you right. You'll be right in just a little."
The way Mr. Younge had stared at her like a butcher stared at a hog. Wickham's angry glare as he began to get up as she ran past him.
Beth followed them into the room and sat next to Georgiana on the couch. She hugged her, as though that was the most normal thing to do in such a situation, and the dog popped into her lap and licked Georgiana's face.
The maid bustled in with the tea set, and Mrs. Gardiner set on the table and poured a cup for Georgiana, and then pressed the cup into her hands. "Take some."
The warm beverage in her cold hands. Georgiana slowly stopped trembling.
She still was not well inside, and she knew it.
When she'd half-drunk through the cup, Mrs. Gardiner asked, "Might you now tell me something about your situation?" Mrs. Gardiner sat neatly on the edge of a Windsor chair in the room, and she smiled in a reassuring way that reminded Georgiana of her old nurse.
"I… I do not know what to say. What I can say." Her husband plotting with his friend to murder her. Her near escape. She pressed her fist against her mouth and breathed harshly. "I scarce can believe the tale myself. It is disquieting and too sensational to be believed… you will distrust me."
"I shall not. Lizzy has already said she trusts you." Mrs. Gardiner smiled at her. "Now eat a biscuit with your tea. Excellent. Drink the rest. A warm cup always makes everything better. Take a few deep breaths. Very good, now simply tell the story."
Georgiana sighed and leaned back, feeling more herself. But she still dreaded trying to explain her odd situation.
Would it be wrong to simply run back into the cold so that she did not need to do so?
She hated so deeply the thought of how all her decisions, her failures as a human, a woman, a one-time Darcy, and as a wife would be judged, and she did not know which of her many failures would be judged most harshly.
Both Miss Elizabeth and Mrs. Gardiner smiled warmly at her.
When Georgiana did not begin her story, Beth started to prattle on about dinner, and how much she loved melted cheese on toast. That was her favorite meal, and she liked to eat it every single time she had a meal, and she sometimes snuck some of it to Hector.
Mrs. Gardiner pressed her daughter's shoulder. "Dear, go see how Aunt Jane manages with your brothers. She might need your help."
Beth made a face that showed clearly that she understood perfectly well that she was being sent off, away from the interesting place. But she obediently got up and started out of the drawing room.
However, at this point there was the sound of the front door opening, and cheerful voices in the hallway.
"Ah." Mrs. Gardiner brightened. "My husband has returned rather earlier than anticipated. He will know what we might do with you." She went into the hall, preceded by Beth who ran out shouting "Papa", followed by the dog whose tail wagged wildly. "Just wait a few."
Miss Elizabeth poured her another cup of tea, and then one for herself. "Do drink some more."
Georgiana nodded. She suddenly found that she was becoming quite ravenous. Her shivers were gone, but she had that unpleasant feeling in her fingers, toes and every limb that said she had been frozen through, and though she was thawed now, the damage was not yet repaired.
Miss Elizabeth watched her with an intent expression, half between a smile and a frown.
When Georgiana put her cup back down, Miss Elizabeth said, "You rather remind me of a dear friend. I suppose he is a friend, if nothing else. Both in manner and in appearance."
A few minutes later a balding gentleman with the same nose and bright friendly eyes as Miss Elizabeth entered the room followed by Mrs. Gardiner. "Hello, hello, Mrs. Georgiana — Lizzy, what was that false name you determined for her? Warm? — too easy to forget. Quite not the best." He offered Georgiana his hand. "Hello, I am Mr. Gardiner, and I am told you are a new friend in need of a spot of help. Well! You do look young. How old are you?"
Georgiana flushed. "I am a woman grown; I have been married these six months."
Mr. Gardiner laughed. "And that establishes the case. That establishes the case. Well, tell me your story — or what of it that you feel at liberty to easily say. I'll ask more pointedly if a fact you obscure seems to be essential."
"Well…" It all seemed odd, and surreal. She could not simply choke it out: My husband has decided to murder me, so I ran from him.
"Ah. I see. The difficulties begin already. Let me then begin with a few more precise questions. This husband you have had for six months. Might I assume he is a principal cause of your present difficulties as you evince no eagerness to return to his side?"
Georgiana nodded.
"A difficult case. But what is the nature of your quarrel?"
With a flushed face, Georgiana looked down at her hands. They had a red Persian rug with woven images of deer and lions.
"I assume this is a serious matter, and one where you felt yourself in some immediate danger — else you would have not made the decision to run out into the January cold without a coat. Mrs. Georgiana, I assure you that I am not the sort of gentleman who considers the husband's rights to be of paramount importance in every dispute between him and his partner in life."
"They want to kill me. They really would." The shakes came back. Georgiana pushed her hand against her mouth. "If he'd caught me…"
"Who would kill you?" Mr. Gardiner said sharply. "Who, your husband?"
"No, his friends, his partners. They decided to kill me, oh, God, God."
The other persons looked between each other silently. Georgiana said, "You need not believe me. I… I hardly believe it myself."
Miss Elizabeth said firmly, "I do not doubt you. It is a shocking tale, but every aspect of your manner and behavior gives me proof of your sincerity."
Mr. Gardiner tapped his knee several times and crossed and uncrossed his legs. "Lizzy, I see you've already become protective of our dear guest. I am also persuaded that her story is likely true. Now the whole story. Point to point: Why would your husband and his friend kill you, and for what purpose?"
"I overheard a conversation… while I am alive my brother and cousin do not need to release anything but the income of my fortune to my husband, but if I were killed, it would go to my heir, who is my husband. He owes a substantial sum of money to his friend."
"Repaying a debt? He cannot have cared for you much if he saw that as a sufficient reason for loving murder."
"No… he does not." Then Georgiana added, driven by an innate need to fully explain things whenever she could, "But he only agreed because his friend threatened to kill him if he did not. His friend is terrifying."
"Ah." Mr. Gardiner hmmmd. "I see. Do continue. What happened after you heard this conversation."
"I gathered a few things to flee the house… I thought they'd left. I went to the door. We only had a maid-of-all-work. I sat down." The familiar hallway of the house she'd lived in for the past months swam before her eyes, luridly colored with more detail than it could possibly possess. "Wi— that is my husband reentered the house right as I stood to put my coat on. When we looked at each other… he knew. Somehow, he knew from my face that I knew about his plan. I struck him on the head with my bag. He grabbed it from me. I ran…" Caught and unable to move for that half second. Believing she was dead. "He tried to chase me. We live on a crowded street. I ran in front of a carriage. It stopped and slowed him. I kept running. And when I lacked breath, I walked, and walked. He was gone, I could see him nowhere. And then I wandered past the center of the City, past the bank and the guildhalls, and then…"
"You found yourself in the park by the Tower, and Beth found you there," Miss Elizabeth finished the story for her.
Georgiana nodded.
"How extraordinary," Mr. Gardiner said thoughtfully, but it was not a disbelieving tone.
Mrs. Gardiner exclaimed, "You poor dear — you poor dear! It must be a very great fortune to make them willing to murder you over it. No wonder you had such pride in your manner."
Leaning back into his armchair, Mr. Gardiner replied, "I know of men who have killed one another over a trivial sum — but that is not important. The question is what to do. The villains ought to be brought to justice, of course. Hmmmm. I assume you have no reason to think that your maid also overheard this conversation?"
Georgiana shook her head no. She stared at the rich rug again.
"Hmmm." Mr. Gardiner uncrossed his legs and stood up from his red armchair. "Well, well. And the question that remains is how can I aid you — have you any friends or family who we might call to your aid? That would be easiest, and—"
"No, no. There is no one I can call."
"You mentioned your guardians, they would be the natural persons to inform of this situation," Mr. Gardiner said. "Your story implies that they did not approve of your marriage — a Scottish rite?"
"It was." Georgiana nodded. "I can't go to my brother. I can't."
Mr. Gardiner made that hmmmmm sound again. "You think that he cannot forgive you. And perhaps he cannot, but it is still your brother's place to protect you from—"
"I won't! I won't! He'll kill my husband, and then they'll hang him."
"Ah." Mr. Gardiner sat down again and rubbed at his chin. "Hmmmmmmm. I see your difficulty. He is something of a hot head then?"
"Oh no! Quite the opposite. He is always collected, calm and confident."
"If that is the case, I do not think that this danger you have assumed is likely to come to pass. It would almost certainly be best if we send a messenger to him — or a letter if he is not present in town, and let him — ah, I see that you shake your head refusingly. You are determined to not send any such message to your brother."
Mr. Gardiner stood again, and he smiled at Georgiana. "And you have had a day that is difficult beyond the ordinary. Well, well. I'll not force anything upon you tonight. No more discussions of the matter — if you are willing to be our guest, we'll happily have you tonight, and then talk matters over further in the morning."