Chapter Thirty-Two

T he butler struggled with Georgiana, intent on forcing her out, but she would have none of it. Desperate, unwilling to let anything stop her from finding her aunt, she kicked the butler in the knee; he cried out and fell against the wall, dropping Georgiana's arm.

She ran from him and into the drawing room, but no one was there. She raced back across the hallway and pounded on her uncle's study door. There was no answer; she threw the door open, but the room was empty.

She ran back into the hallway and then up the stairs, crying, "Aunt Elaine, please! It's Georgiana! I beg you, I beg you to help me!"

A door opened and a voice said, "Georgiana? Georgiana Darcy? What in the world?" And the Countess of Matlock dashed into the hallway and gathered her niece into her arms.

The butler managed to get up from the floor, gather his wits and chase the shabby girl up the stairs, only to find his employer cradling the hysterical girl and stroking her hair. The Countess glanced at her butler and said, softly, "It is all right, Mr. Robeson. You will recall my niece, Georgiana Darcy. Have the Rose Room prepared for her immediately."

"Yes, my lady." Mr. Robeson was confused; he recalled young, pretty Miss Darcy. This ragged creature looked nothing like her. But he also knew that his actions at the door, though performed in good faith, were best forgotten in light of this new intelligence. The pounding at the door had stopped. All efforts would be made to make Miss Darcy welcome.

The Countess managed to calm Georgiana down enough to understand that the girl had run away from her husband. There was evidently a good deal more to be learnt, but first things first: Georgiana must be bathed and put into appropriate clothing.

One of the upstairs maids heard the commotion and appeared. "May I assist you, my lady?" she asked, eyes wide at seeing Georgiana.

"Agnes, help me get Georgiana to the Rose Room. She needs a bath and clothes. See if you can find something of mine that can be made to fit her."

Agnes managed not to gasp in shock. Georgiana Darcy! Everyone knew the girl had run off with a servant's son; what was she doing here? She smiled to herself, gleefully, as she helped the girl walk to the Rose Room. What a tale she would have to tell downstairs tonight!

"Do not leave me, Aunt, I beg you!" Georgiana cried, when the three of them entered the bedroom.

"I shall not, Georgiana. I will sit with you while you are bathed and dressed."

It was only when Agnes helped Georgiana out of her ragged dress that the Countess realised her niece was with child. And the bruises on her arms! The Countess barely managed to hide her shock.

"Burn the dress, Agnes," the Countess ordered.

"Yes," Georgiana echoed. "Burn the – no, wait!" She snatched the dress out of the maid's hands and rummaged through its pockets. "Look, Aunt, look at this."

The Countess unfolded the dirty paper and saw:

Evelina Mary Younge of this Parish and George Phillip Wickham of this Parish were married in Birmingham Chapel by Banns This day of August the 24 th in the Year 1809 By me, Curate Thomas Barnaby

"Wickham was already married?" the Countess gasped.

"Yes, and to my companion, Mrs. Younge." Poor Georgiana burst into tears yet again.

The Countess wondered if this situation could get any worse. Her niece had eloped with the steward's son; she had thought nothing could be more terrible. Now it appeared that the marriage was not even valid! And her niece was with child!

Her mind whirled. Was an unwed mother worse than an elopement? No, not if the unwed mother could be hidden away until the babe was delivered and then sent safely away to foster parents. Alas, it was too late for such a deception to be practiced for Georgiana. All of London already knew about the elopement, and now the servants were about to know of the bigamous marriage and the illegitimate child, thanks to Agnes' presence in the room.

The Countess shook her head, clearing her thoughts. Apprehensive as she was for her social standing and family name, the weeping girl before her must be her first concern.

"I will keep this paper safe, Georgiana, I promise. Look, here is a lovely warm bath for you. Agnes, run to Sally and have her bring my special bath salts for my niece. And, Agnes, I know you are already bursting with anticipation to tell all the servants what you have seen and heard in this room. But hear me well – I will throw you into the street without a reference the minute I hear that any of the other servants have learnt of this; do you understand me?"

The Countess' steely tone wiped the smile off the maid's face. "Yes, my lady," she replied, voice quivering.

The Countess took pity on her. "Agnes, I am not a dragon. But I think you can understand that I wish these events to be hidden as long as may be. Having the London servants' grapevine afire with the news would defeat that purpose. You have been in my employ for, what – six years?"

"Seven next month, my lady," Agnes replied.

"I am certain I can trust you, then. Can I not?"

"Oh, indeed, my lady."

"Go then, and find Sally; tell her to come here. You can then go about your regular duties, Agnes."

There, the Countess thought, as Agnes scurried off. That might delay the news from making its way out of this house by at least a day. She was too experienced to believe that Agnes could keep the secret for much longer than that.