Chapter Ten

M r. Darcy and Mr. Bingley rode through the grounds of Netherfield, with Mr. Darcy pointing out what was favorable about the estate and what were potential problems. He was happy to be outside; he found that riding helped take his mind off his troubles. The dark fog of his depression lifted a little.

Mr. Bingley seemed eager to learn, but he had so little background in estate management that he was having trouble retaining information; Mr. Darcy thought he might be pushing his friend a little too hard.

"Perhaps it would be best if we returned to the house and wrote down what we have seen," Mr. Darcy suggested.

"Yes! Excellent idea!" Mr. Bingley's gratitude told Mr. Darcy that he had been right to propose the break. They turned their horses back toward the house.

"What do you know of the Bennets?" Mr. Darcy asked him.

"Miss Bennet is an absolute angel, Darcy! It is a shame she is so ill, as you are unable to see her at her best. Then again, given that you are a far better catch than I, perhaps it is just as well that you not meet her." Mr. Bingley's tone was jocular, but Mr. Darcy was not entirely certain he was joking.

"I would never stand between you and true love, Bingley. But what of the rest of the family?"

"There are five daughters and no sons, which is unfortunate, as the estate is entailed to male heirs."

"That is indeed unfortunate." Mr. Darcy hesitated. To ask additional questions would betray his interest, which he was not ready to do; surely there was a way to learn more. "Her sister is kind to come and nurse her." There; that seemed innocent enough.

"I am given to understand that the two eldest sisters, Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth, are very close. But Caroline does not care for Miss Elizabeth."

Mr. Darcy would have liked to say that Miss Bingley cared for no one but herself, but of course could not. "And why is that?"

"Miss Elizabeth is a little too insolent for my sister's taste."

"Insolent?" That seemed a very odd way to describe a young lady.

"Yes, I think so. Perhaps pert is a better description. Miss Elizabeth does not let anyone get the better of her. Clever, she is, and well-read. Annoys Caroline no end."

"Does your sister approve of your interest in Miss Bennet?"

"No, I do not think she does. She thinks the Bennets are beneath us, and I should be looking higher for a wife. But Miss Bennet is everything lovely, and she is the daughter of a gentleman to boot. Nothing wrong with that, is there?"

"Of course not. Will you hold firm in this matter?"

"I try, but – dash it, Darcy, Caroline can be the most awful scold when she does not get her way."

"If your own happiness is at stake, you will have to ignore your sister."

"That is it exactly! Ignore her!"

Mr. Darcy privately thought it likely that if Miss Bennet was everything Mr. Bingley said, she could likely do better than a man who would forever be ruled by his scold of a sister, but perhaps with the estate entailed…well, it was none of his concern. He had troubles enough of his own.

They left their horses with the stablemaster and went into the house through the back entrance. Coming in through the kitchen, the cook told Mr. Bingley that they had a visitor.

"Who is it?" Mr. Bingley asked.

"Dunno. A Colonel somebody, I think."

Colonel! Was it possible that his cousin, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam had run him to ground here in Meryton? Mr. Darcy could not imagine how the Colonel had been able to find him; perhaps it was someone else. There had been a Colonel at the dinner he and Bingley had attended; it might be that this was the Colonel that had come visiting.

But as they headed upstairs to change their clothing, Darcy heard his cousin's voice in the drawing room. "But Darcy is here, correct?"

He then heard Miss Bingley reply, "Oh, indeed, Colonel! I believe he is out riding with my brother. May I have refreshments served while you wait?"

It was unbelievable. Mr. Darcy had decided against going to London so as not to have to talk about Georgiana with the Matlocks; instead, a Matlock had come to him. He took as long as possible to wash the smell of horse from his person and change into different clothing, but he was finally out of excuses. It was time to face Colonel Fitzwilliam.

When he entered the drawing room, Mr. Bingley said, "And there he is! Lord, man, how long does it take you to wash and change? Never knew you to be quite that fastidious."

Mr. Darcy ignored Mr. Bingley. "It is good to see you, Richard, though I am at a loss to account for your presence here."

"At a loss? Truly? Well, as it happens, cousin, I think we have private matters to discuss." The look in Colonel Fitzwilliam's eyes was positively lethal. Richard knew; he had somehow learnt what had happened to Georgiana.

"Bingley, may we use the library?" Mr. Darcy asked.

"Of course, anything you need," Mr. Bingley assured him.

Miss Bingley added, "I hope you will remain for the night, Colonel; I will have a room prepared."

Colonel Fitzwilliam thanked her, and then followed Mr. Darcy from the room.

The moment they entered the library, Colonel Fitzwilliam closed the door with a slam and whirled around to face Mr. Darcy. "Tell me, tell me very quickly, why I should not beat the daylights out of you for letting this happen to my ward."

"I deserve whatever beating you choose to bestow." Mr. Darcy faced his cousin, shoulders squared, head erect. "Frankly, I might feel better if you were to knock me senseless."

That took the wind from the Colonel's sails. He sighed as the tension drained from his body. "Damn it, Darcy! What happened?"

"First, how did you learn of this? Tell me, I beg you, that it is not in the papers."

"Oh, you mean this?" Richard reached into a pocket and pulled out a newspaper clipping. It read:

We are told that a certain Miss GD from Derbyshire eloped with the son of the estate's steward! Where in the world were her guardians?

Mr. Darcy dropped into a chair and covered his face with his hands.

"I need not tell you what my parents said when they saw this."

"No, indeed."

"And I need not also tell you what Aunt Catherine had to say, when she descended upon Matlock House in a fury."

"Richard, I –"

"And I need not tell you that the entire ton is talking about nothing else!" Colonel Fitzwilliam's voice rose to a bellow.

Mr. Darcy could not respond.

Finally, Colonel Fitzwilliam sat down in a chair beside Mr. Darcy. "After seeing this newspaper article, I rode like the very devil was after me to Pemberley."

"I was not there, of course. How did you know where to find me?"

"Mrs. Reynolds broke down crying and I persuaded her to tell me. Do not be angry with her, Darcy."

"Of course I shall not be."

"Tell me everything," Colonel Fitzwilliam commanded.

Where to begin? "You recall Mrs. Younge?"

"The companion you hired? Yes."

"I did not know that she was a – a compatriot, I suppose – of Wickham's."

Colonel Fitzwilliam shook his head. "How is that even possible?"

"I suspect he persuaded her to apply for the post of companion, with the sole purpose of engineering this elopement."

"But her references?"

"Forged."

"You did not check them?" Colonel Fitzwilliam's tone was one of disbelief.

"I thought I need not do so; she seemed so very –"

His cousin interrupted him. "So you believed you could rely on your instincts, or some such thing, rather than actually going to the trouble of checking her references. Damn you and your Darcy pride! So how did Georgiana end up in Ramsgate?"

"Mrs. Younge told me Georgiana would enjoy a fortnight at the seaside."

"So you let them go."

"I did, yes."

"And then?"

"I thought to surprise Georgiana by joining them there. I might have been in time to prevent this disaster, had my carriage not broken an axle."

"Which cost you several hours."

"A day and a half, actually, as it happened far from any town. By the time the axle was repaired and I arrived at Ramsgate, they were already gone."

"And then?"

"The servants at the establishment I had leased for Georgiana and Mrs. Younge had overheard the plan to go to Gretna Green, so I took the fastest of the carriage horses and set off after them."

"On horseback? The entire way?"

"Yes. I found them at an inn in Gretna Green, but I was too late. As Mrs. Younge so very eloquently put it, Georgiana was already wedded and bedded. And the way Mrs. Younge touched Wickham, I would swear that those two are more than just friends."

"Bedfellows?"

"Very likely."

"Might I conclude that fists were then employed?"

"And then of course he demanded her dowry, which was doubtless his object from the start."

"He must have been none too pleased when you told him that he could not have it."

"I have never seen a man more furious. He leapt at me – or perhaps I leapt at him, I truly cannot recall – and the innkeeper ended up sending for the magistrate."

"Who explained to you that Georgiana was of age and that there was not one damned thing you could do about it."

"Exactly."

Colonel Fitzwilliam thought about this for a minute. Then – "Might I hope that you blackened his eye, at least?"

"Bloodied his nose and took out two teeth."

"Ruined his famous good looks, did you? Well, that is the one good thing I have heard. What shall we do?"

"Do? What is there to do? She is lost to us."

Colonel Fitzwilliam looked at Mr. Darcy in disbelief. "Do you mean to just let her go?"

"What choice have I, Richard?" Darcy was suddenly enraged. "Yes, I did everything wrong. Yes, I should have checked Mrs. Younge's references. Yes, I should have made certain Georgiana knew that Wickham was a scoundrel. But it is over! She belongs to him now; that has been made very clear to me." His hands began to shake again.

"Have you any idea where they went?"

"I believe he said they would go to London."

"London! You do realise he very likely has her living in the stews of Town, working for her bread, do you not? He may even have her earning her way on her back; did you think of that?"

Mr. Darcy growled at him. "Do you think I have thought of aught else since this began? Do you think I can even close my eyes without imagining what she is going through? Do you think I can even look at myself in the mirror without feeling such self-loathing that I can barely –" And his voice broke.

There was a minute of silence. Then Colonel Fitzwilliam spoke, his voice soft. "I am sorry, Cousin. I know you well; you have been tortured by this and here I am, adding to your pain."

"I deserve it, all of it, all the pain." His voice was an anguished whisper.

"You were as much a victim as Georgiana," Colonel Fitzwilliam said, shaking his head. "You must know that."

"But I could have prevented it. There were so many things I could have done, should have done, differently."

"What matters now is how we move forward. I refuse to accept that there is nothing to be done. At the very least, we can find her and try to improve her circumstances."

"You are right. Richard, I have been so melancholy that I have not been capable of coherent thought. I will leave directly for London."

"It sounds like you are still not capable of coherent thought, Darcy. No, absolutely not. You must not show your face in Town until this has been sorted. The gossipmongers will feast on it."

"Then…?"

"I will send messages to some…well, let us say some friends of mine, who will know how to look for her in the slums. In the meantime, perhaps I can spend a few days here in the country with you. I have spent days and days on horseback ferreting you out and I could use a rest. Also, Miss Bingley spoke at length about how wretched the local society is, which I have taken to mean that there are some pretty girls hereabouts; I would not mind a look at them. Is that agreeable?'

"I know not what I would do without you, Richard," Mr. Darcy said, quietly.

"Just remember that the next time I ask for a bottle of your brandy."

The two men rose. Mr. Darcy quickly embraced his cousin. Just as quickly, he released the surprised Colonel and led the way out of the library.