Chapter Thirty-Seven

T he morning newspaper contained this snippet:

Who was pounding on the door of Matlock House yesterday, calling for his wife to be returned to him? Was it perhaps the husband of the recently married GD from Derbyshire? Has the bloom faded from the marital rose so soon?

The Earl sighed. He put down his fork, rose, and offered the paper to his Countess, who sat across from him at the breakfast table.

"Oh, dear," she sighed a moment later.

"I do not know what to do," the Earl admitted.

"What is it?" Georgiana asked. She had happily joined them for breakfast, wearing another hastily altered gown.

The Countess glanced at her husband, who shrugged. She handed the paper over to Georgiana.

She read it quickly, eyes widening. "How could the newspaper know about me and George?"

"Someone put news of your elopement in the paper weeks ago. Wait; I still have it." The Countess rose from her seat and left the room. A few minutes later, she returned, carrying a small piece of newspaper. "Here it is."

Georgiana glanced at it and then looked away. "George did this; he shewed it to me when it first came out."

"Hmph," the Countess looked huffed. "Wickham likely had no hand in this one. More likely, it came from a neighbor who saw Wickham pounding on the door yesterday. But, now that I think on it, if the original article was actually planted by Wickham…" She looked at her husband.

"Yes; we might be able to have a retraction printed," the Earl agreed.

"Will they do that?" Georgiana asked.

"They might," her uncle replied. "It would be better if you had indeed eloped, but with someone else, not the son of a steward. That would be a more believable story to tell the newspaper."

"More believable than saying that the event never took place at all, you mean?" Georgiana asked. "But I do not know of anyone else I could have eloped with."

"Patience, child," the Countess said. "We will continue to consider this; but now there may be some hope for all of us. I think it time to bring Richard and Darcy here."

The Countess sat at her writing desk in her bedroom, considering what put in her letter to Richard. She planned to send it with her own footman, so she would not be required to choose her words with care in case the letter was opened en route.

? Dear Richard,

Georgiana is with us at Matlock House. It now appears that Wickham was already married – to Mrs. Younge, of all people! – so his marriage to Georgiana is not valid.

Your father and I think there may be a way out of this disaster, but we would very much like your opinion. I expect to see both you and Darcy here at Matlock House as soon as may be.

Your loving mother,

Elaine Matlock

She sanded it, sealed it, and gave it to Mr. Robeson.

"Is the footman to wait for a reply, my lady?"

"No; he may return to Matlock House immediately."

There was a tentative knock on her door, which she recognised as her niece's knock. "Come in, Georgiana," she called out.

"Are you writing to Brother?" she asked.

"To Richard, but he will show Darcy the letter."

"And we think they will come here to Matlock House?"

"I would be surprised if we do not have them with us by tomorrow evening."

Georgiana looked uncomfortable.

The Countess understood immediately. "I know you are concerned about facing your brother, but I think you need not fear. He loves you very much, and he will be delighted that you are safe now."

"But when he sees me…" She gestured to her abdomen.

"Let us not worry about that just yet, Georgiana."

"Will he take me to Darcy House, do you think?"

"I imagine that he will, yes, but you must know that I am always here for you, dear Georgiana."

"I know, Aunt and I can never thank you and Uncle enough for everything you have done for me. Do you still think there is a way out of this dreadful mess?"

"I pray that there is, for all our sakes."

"Aunt…"

"Yes, my dear?"

"There was a woman who helped me escape, though I was a perfect stranger to her. May we not do something for her?"

"How did she help you?"

Georgiana told the Countess how Mrs. Cartwright had suggested that she take the opportunity to slip out the back door of the modiste's establishment and find her relatives. She ended with, "I know not how I would have had the courage to escape without her help, and I certainly would never have known about that back door."

The Countess nodded. "What would you like to do for her?"

Georgiana wrinkled up her nose in thought. "I recall her telling me that her wages are just enough to pay for her rent and a bit of food, so she will never be able to stop working."

"Perhaps an annuity of some kind?"

"I do not know what that is," Georgiana said, humbly.

"It means she would get a sum of money every month for the rest of her life."

"Oh! That would be wonderful!"

"I will speak to your uncle; he will arrange it."

"Thank you, Aunt," Georgiana whispered. "That will mean the world to her."

"Do you know the address of the boarding house?"

"Address? No. But I believe I could find it by retracing my footsteps from Madame DuBois'."

***

Two days later, a man in business attire knocked on the door of Mrs. Younge's boarding house. Mrs. Younge opened the door a crack. "Yes?"

"I am looking for a Mrs. Cartwright."

"She is not here." Mrs. Younge tried to close the door, but the man's foot was in the way.

"Where might I find her?"

Mrs. Younge shrugged. The man dug into his pocket and produced a shilling, which he held. He repeated, "Where might I find her?"

Eyes on the coin, Mrs. Younge said, "She works for a seamstress; she will be return here at around six in the evening." She snatched the shilling and slammed the door shut.

***

At a quarter after six, Mrs. Cartwright trudged wearily home. As she approached the doorstep of the boarding house, a man approached her. "Mrs. Cartwright?"

She stopped and looked up at him, eyes weary with work and worry.

"I am the solicitor for the Earl of Matlock. He wishes to thank you for your kindness to his niece."

Half an hour later, Mrs. Cartwright had packed her few belongings into a satchel and had left Mrs. Younge's boarding house, escorted by the kind solicitor, in favour of far nicer lodgings. The next day, she planned to tender her resignation to Madame DuBois.