Chapter 10
Two Days Later
Fitzwilliam Darcy sighed in relief as his horse crested the hill, allowing him to look out at the great sea stretched out in front of him, glistening and glittering in the morning sun.
"We are almost there," he remarked, patting his stallion Phoenix, who promptly began trotting faster as if aware that a warm stable and a bucket of oats was near.
He was very pleased to finally attain his destination of Ramsgate, where he was looking forward to spending a few days with his only sister, his dear Georgiana.
Given that Rosings was already partway to Ramsgate, he had decided to detour toward the coast to spend time with his beloved Georgiana, and since he was in a hurry, he had chosen to ride Phoenix while his valet followed him in his carriage.
He hoped that Percy would arrive by tonight along with his trunks, but he had brought a saddlebag with a few necessary items. He would be well enough.
They were entering Ramsgate now, and he lifted his head to pull the salted air into his lungs. It was fresh and clean, and the sea, which stretched into the distant horizon, was wild and beautiful. He felt his body relax with pleased anticipation as he drew ever closer to his sister's rented house. He had not sent a letter ahead of time announcing his arrival, so he had no doubt that she would be delightfully surprised.
/
The Gardiners' House
"Do you think he might be here by noon?" Georgiana asked hopefully.
Elizabeth chuckled and reached out to pat her friend's hand. "Given that he cares for you, it is possible but not likely. It is more than eighty miles to London, after all, and there was only a sliver of the moon last night."
Georgiana smiled and ducked her head. "I know I keep asking the same thing, but I hope you know that I have enjoyed my time with you. You have been incredibly welcoming and gracious. I am eager, though, to see my brother. "
"Of course you are," Mrs. Gardiner said from her position at the head of the table. "It rather depends on whether Mr. Darcy was at Darcy House when the express arrived, but I am certain that he will be here by tomorrow at the latest."
Georgiana was a trifle disappointed to imagine waiting another full day, but Mrs. Gardiner's reasoning was sound. Her brother did often spend hours away from home during the day, calling on friends and associates, spending time at his club, and visiting with his solicitors. She would have to be patient.
"After we eat, might we ascend to the nursery to spend time with the little ones?" she asked shyly, and Mrs. Gardiner chuckled and said, "By all means, Miss Darcy. The children will be delighted."
/
Miss Darcy's Rental House
The path to the door was paved with gray flags, and Darcy's boots clicked across them. The house was large and grand, as befitted his sister, and he was filled with satisfaction as he looked up at the imposing brick facade, pleased that the landlord from whom he had rented had been honest. Generous windows marched in neat rows and columns along the front, the drapes inside hung with heavy, expensive burgundy. It boded well for the furnishings inside, and Darcy ascended the broad shallow steps with a heart eager to see his sister. The carriage house, too, where Phoenix was currently being brushed down and fed by a boy, was, while small, well built and in good order. Given that the Darcy carriage was not here at present, it seemed that his sister and her governess were out and about, but it mattered little; he would wait for her.
Darcy rapped on the door of the house and waited impatiently. It was a full minute before the door opened to reveal a young maid, who, while neatly dressed, looked flustered.
"May I help you, sir?" she asked nervously.
"I am Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, and I am here to see my sister, Miss Darcy," he explained.
The maid looked even more distressed, glancing behind her and then turning back with an uncertain expression on her face. He frowned with irritation and demanded, "Are you planning to permit me to enter this house?"
She flushed and stepped back and opened the door. Darcy entered and looked around. The vestibule was neatly kept and well appointed, but the house was completely silent.
He followed the maid into the drawing room. The drapes were closed, thus rendering the room dim, and there was no one waiting.
"Are Mrs. Younge and Miss Darcy at home?" he asked.
"No," the girl replied and gulped convulsively. "No, sir, they are not."
He frowned again, this time impatiently. What was wrong with this stupid girl?
"Do you know when they will return?" he asked.
"I do not, sir," the maid replied, and her eyes swam with tears. "They are all gone, and I do not know what is happening."
Darcy stared at her in confusion. "Gone, whatever do you mean?"
Now the girl was weeping openly and wringing her hands. "I am so sorry, sir. They left, and Hannah said…"
"Hannah?" he interrupted harshly
"Miss Darcy's maid. Let me get her for you."
Darcy was now filled with dread, and he followed the maid out of the drawing room and toward the kitchen, where he found a woman seated at a table, with an apron wrapped around her ample proportions, along with another girl dressed as a maid, and a man in the garb of a footman. At the unexpected sight of a gentleman in the kitchen, all three servants rose to their feet in an instant.
"Sally?" the cook said. "What on earth are you about?"
"This is Mr. Darcy, Mrs. Tates," Sally said, "come to see his sister."
"Mr. Darcy!" Mrs. Tates said, with a meek bob of her head. "I fear you have missed Miss Darcy; she and Mrs. Younge left for London only yesterday!"
"But they did not, Cook," the other girl said, "I told you…"
"Nonsense, Hannah! You merely misunderstood…"
"Be quiet," Darcy snapped at the cook, who did indeed fall silent. "You said your name is Hannah?"
"Yes, sir," the girl replied, and she too wore a look of worry that made Darcy's heart freeze into ice.
"What were you about to say about Miss Darcy?" he demanded.
Hannah glanced anxiously at the cook and then turned back. "Sir, Miss Darcy disappeared from the house two full days ago, and Mrs. Younge left only yesterday. I overheard her talking with Mr. Wickham, and they were…"
"Wickham!?" he boomed, and all the servants flinched in unison.
"Yes, sir," the male servant said carefully. "Mr. George Wickham. He has been visiting here for many days, sir, and…"
"Wickham was here?" he snarled, and his fury was so obvious that the cook took a careful step back.
"Yes, sir," the other man said, his voice now professional. "He encountered Mrs. Younge and Miss Darcy two days after they arrived in Ramsgate, and…"
"I understood that he was a friend of the family," the cook volunteered, though in a subdued tone.
Darcy had long prided himself on his ability to manage his temper, but at this moment, he felt a strong urge to wrap his fingers around Wickham's throat and choke the life out of him.
"We didn't know there was anything wrong, sir," Hannah said pleadingly, and he shook himself out of his fury to observe that all four were now obviously frightened.
"My apologies," he rasped, taking a deep breath to control himself. "Of course you did not. Tell me everything."
"I am in the kitchen most of the time, sir," Mrs. Tates said, "so the girls are probably able to tell you more."
Sally stepped forward timidly and said, "It was like this, sir…"
Darcy listened with rigid control and growing alarm, as the maid described Wickham's daily visits to the house, his place at the table, and his time with Mrs. Younge and Miss Darcy in the drawing room every evening.
"And then they left for London, sir," Sally finished, "or at least Mrs. Younge and Mr. Wickham did…"
"Wait! You are saying that Wickham accompanied my sister and Mrs. Younge to London?"
"We thought so," Sally said pleadingly, "but Hannah said that Miss Darcy disappeared the day before…"
"She did!" Hannah said. "Her bed was slept in, but she was gone by dawn, indeed she was. Mrs. Younge said that she had gone off to buy something from the shops, but she did not return! Mr. Wickham was here twice that day, and I overheard them talking…"
"You were listening to your betters, were you?" the cook said indignantly.
"Wickham and, it seems, Mrs. Younge are not in any way better, Hannah. Did you hear anything more?"
"Yes sir. I heard them talking about fleeing because … sir, I do believe Mr. Wickham had offered for Miss Darcy, and she had accepted, and they were to flee to Scotland, but then she disappeared, and Mrs. Younge and Mr. Wickham ran away together in your carriage."
"You are saying," Darcy said in a controlled tone, "that they are friendly."
"Yes, sir," the male servant said and coughed. "Indeed, I was under the impression that Mrs. Younge and Mr. Wickham were, erm, intimate."
Darcy's throat closed at these words. What had he done? It appeared that Mrs. Younge, who had seemed the perfect governess, was in league with that foul wretch, Wickham.
He hated putting it into words, but he had to. "Hannah, you are saying that no one has seen Miss Darcy for two days."
"Yes, sir."
He lowered his head, and it took every ounce of self control for him to keep the tears from escaping. His dear Georgiana, lost and in danger due to his own stupidity. Where could she be?
"If Miss Darcy did run away," he finally said, "do you have any idea of where she might have run too?"
There was a moment of silence as the servants looked at one another and then Sally said hesitantly, "I know that Miss Darcy recently made the acquaintance of a young lady by the name of Miss Bennet."
"Oh yes!" Hannah agreed. "Miss Darcy mentioned meeting her several times. They met on the beach more than once."
"And in the bookstore the day before she disappeared," Sally said. "I remember they talked about it while I was serving them dinner."
"Which bookstore?" he demanded.