Chapter 39

Darcy rose before dawn the morning after his latest disagreeable conversation with Fitzwilliam. He took a long ride, then went to his study to attend to some work. The reading he did was complicated enough that it helped to occupy his mind, keeping thoughts of Elizabeth on the periphery rather than overtaking him entirely. He was still hard at work when Mrs Reynolds entered the room.

“I am sorry to disturb you, sir, but—” She approached the desk and held out a note to him with a shaking hand. “Miss Darcy’s maid found this when she went into her chamber this morning.”

Darcy’s heart began to race. He virtually tore the slip of paper from his housekeeper’s hands. As he read the short message, everything around him faded except the words written in Georgiana’s hand; they seemed too large and bright and as though they were screaming at him.

I am leaving. It is for the best for you, my dear brother, and all my family. This is the only way I can free you from the responsibility of my care. I want you to be happy, and now you can be.

“Before bringing it to me, the silly girl searched everywhere in the house she thought Miss Darcy might be, and even spoke to several of the gardeners. No one has seen her. I have asked that a more thorough search begin,” Mrs Reynolds said.

For a second, Darcy stared at her, letting her words penetrate the thick, panic-formed shell that enveloped him. He then gave one brusque nod and stepped past her and into the hall, where he bellowed for Fitzwilliam.

“Where the hell could she be? What was she thinking?” Fitzwilliam all but shouted. He began to pace around Darcy’s study.

It was about a quarter of an hour since Mrs Reynolds had brought the news to him. He had shared the note with his cousin, who was understandably agitated. Unfortunately, it meant he had thus far been of no use in deciding what to do. Mrs Reynolds had every servant she could spare searching the house and grounds, but there was no sign of Georgiana. All the horses were accounted for, so she had not taken one to ride off somewhere. Darcy had sent men to enquire in the villages. She must have made her way to one—though God only knew how and at what hour since he had been awake since five o’clock and had not seen her.

“I have no answers,” Darcy said. “Should one or both of us stay here to receive word of what is found and arrange other searches? Should you or I go after her ourselves, although I do not know which direction she took? That is what I long to do. I shall go mad if I do nothing!”

As it was, Darcy felt sick with worry. He had actually been sick soon after first reading the note when the implications of it became clear to him. Georgiana had run off on her own without even a trusted servant. After everything his sister had already experienced, and given how fragile and sheltered she was, she was in grave danger. He leant against the desk, his legs too weak to fully support him.

Fitzwilliam stopped walking and thrust a finger in Darcy’s direction. “This is because of you. I told you yesterday that she knew you were unhappy, and you knew how much she hated having Elizabeth here.”

Weariness and anxiety for his sister prevented Darcy from retorting. Instead, he said, “Are we truly going to quarrel now? I would much rather put my energy into finding Georgiana. I give you leave to recite all my failings after she is safely with us again.”

Fitzwilliam made an inarticulate sound that expressed his deep frustration. He ran both hands through his hair. “You are correct. This is not the time, and I know my remarks were not fair. I apologise. This…I do not know what to say. We have disagreed about what is best for Georgiana, but I know you would never purposely injure her. I never thought she would do something like this. What if she is hurt? What if we cannot find her?”

“I refuse to believe that. She cannot have gone far.”

“Assuming she left this morning and not last night.”

At Fitzwilliam’s words, Darcy felt lightheaded. He had not considered the possibility that his sister had left so many hours ago. He wanted to dismiss it, but he knew to do so would jeopardise their search. He swallowed, attempting to create enough moisture in his suddenly dry mouth to make speech easier.

“Let us think rationally. Only that way can we ensure we are doing everything possible to retrieve her as quickly as possible.”

“Yes. Yes.” Fitzwilliam nodded and again ran his hands over his face and through his hair. “Very well. First, I need coffee and something to eat. A drink or two might help, but it is not yet nine o’clock, and I would not risk becoming inebriated at such a time.”

“Breakfast must be nearly ready. We can talk while we eat.”

The men went to the breakfast room. After much discussion, they decided they had best remain at Pemberley to direct the search so that they were ready to leap into action once there was word of Georgiana’s whereabouts.

The morning wore on, unfortunately with little news that told Darcy where his sister was. He and Fitzwilliam questioned the servants, as did Mrs Reynolds and Hudson in case they knew something they were reluctant to disclose to their master. Mrs Annesley was shocked by Georgiana’s rash actions, and she claimed that, just the day before, Georgiana had spoken highly of Elizabeth. The lady was so distraught that Darcy had insisted she drink a glass of wine. Fitzwilliam had sent word to Romsley Hall, both of them hoping their ward had decided to go to the countess but not truly believing it. Darcy had men asking at the posting inns, but he was determined to go himself if the next set of reports yielded nothing.

Fitzwilliam and he were walking back and forth on the terrace, all argument between them forgotten for the moment. In a startling echo of the earlier scene with Mrs Reynolds, Hudson rushed towards them, a piece of paper clutched in his hand. He held it out and spoke, his hand trembling.

“An express, sir, from Buxton.”

Darcy took it from the butler’s hand and tore it open. “It is from Elizabeth!” he exclaimed.

He read the missive aloud to impart the information to Fitzwilliam; Hudson remained nearby as well.

Mr Darcy,

Your sister is safe and with me. Somehow, she made her way to Buxton. Fortunately, I remained at the inn this morning, and I happened to see her from the window of my room. Naturally, I brought her inside, and she told me of running away from Pemberley. She is well. I promise you with everything that I am, she is well, and I shall ensure she remains here until you and Colonel Fitzwilliam arrive.

Elizabeth Bennet

To Hudson, Darcy said, “Have the carriage prepared as quickly as possible.”

The butler was already turning away when Fitzwilliam said, “We ought to ride! It will be faster.”

“We shall need the carriage to bring Georgiana home. See to it, please, Hudson.”

With a nod of acceptance, Hudson hastily left them. Darcy was faint with relief. Somehow, his beloved sister had come across a person he knew with certainty would treat her with the gentle sympathy she so clearly needed. There was no one better for Georgiana to be with at this moment, and although Darcy was not the most devout man, he truly believed God had led his sister to Elizabeth in what must have been a dreadfully low moment for her.

Fitzwilliam muttered his agreement, and as soon as he and Darcy were alone, he exclaimed, “What in blazes is Georgiana doing in Buxton? And how is Eliz?—”

Darcy turned to him, fury surging through him. “Do not dare say a single word against Elizabeth. Use your head, man! You know her and know she would never do anything to harm Georgiana!”

Fitzwilliam appeared to shake himself. “No, that is not what I meant.” He let out a gust of air. “Perhaps it was, but…you are correct. I am extremely glad she found Georgiana. I do not want to think what might have become of her had she not encountered a friend like Elizabeth. I cannot imagine how it happened.”

“Neither can I, but currently, I do not care. You might take what has transpired and use it to recall Elizabeth Bennet’s worth. At the very least, let it remind you to treat her with the respect and consideration she deserves.”

“I do not know what to say. Everything I have done has been to protect Georgiana. You would argue I have gone too far. My brother has told me that often enough. Believe it or not, I have considered what you said yesterday, about the price you have paid. If I was wrong to oppose your marriage to Elizabeth so strongly, I apologise. I do not want you or her to be unhappy, but Georgiana…” He sighed and slowly shook his head, appearing abashed.

Darcy understood what he meant. “Her situation has required that we place her well-being foremost in our thoughts.”

“But determining what is best for her has not been easy.”

Darcy made a noise of agreement. As much as this was not the time for them to be having this conversation, he was glad for the reconciliation it promised. They had been at odds far too often, and he missed their friendship, the brotherly accord they had enjoyed since childhood. “No, it has not been. I have no answers even now, but in my heart, I have always believed—and expect I always will—that she would benefit from having Elizabeth as her sister.”

Fitzwilliam lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. “How long will it take for the carriage to come round?”

Darcy could not say, but he suggested they make themselves ready so that they could leave as soon as it was. Hudson informed them that Mrs Reynolds was having a basket of food prepared for them. Mrs Annesley rushed down the stairs carrying a small bag. It contained several of Georgiana’s things—a shawl, handkerchiefs, a small cushion, a tincture, and some powders, one to ease her agitation and the other for headaches. It was a somewhat odd assortment, but Darcy assumed the lady had quickly gathered what she thought might comfort his sister.

Shortly, Fitzwilliam and he were on their way to Buxton, Darcy silently urging the horses to hurry.