Page 50 of Lord Lonbourn's Daughter
As Elizabeth had expected, Mr Darcy did not come down for dinner. He was still entertaining his cousins. She contemplated entering to see whether he was tired, but she suspected he might not appreciate the intrusion. Especially considering the words that had not been interrupted an hour ago.Conveniently absent…
The thought of her new sister was the deciding factor; she could not leave the poor girl unattended after her ordeal.
“Lady Elizabeth.” Mr Murray greeted her and pulled out her chair. “Dinner will be served in a moment, your ladyship.”
“Thank you, Mr Murray. Oh, do you know whether Miss Darcy intends to join me?”
“I believe she is indisposed. She has requested a tray to be delivered to her chamber.”
“Oh, I suppose it will just be me, then.”
Elizabeth tried to sound cheerful while feeling utterly stupid. She should have visited Mr Darcy and enquired after his sister rather than assume she would attend dinner. It was a lesson learnt. She had to partake in the dishes being set before her, or she would offend her cook as well.
After her solitary meal, Elizabeth walked swiftly to her husband’s chamber. Forcing a cheerful expression, she knocked and waited until he responded.
“It is I, Elizabeth,” she said and walked to the bed. Only then did she discover Miss Darcy in the shadows of the canopy.
Her husband was sitting up with a half-empty tray beside him. The nausea must still be plaguing him to some extent; she had never known him to partake of a meal and leave something behind.
He looked awful, even worse than that morning. His left eye was swollen almost shut, and the discolouring had taken on a sinister black hue, but what worried her the most was the strain of pain on his countenance. Elizabeth doubted his eye was the only part that hurt. By the visible development of the swelling and discolouration on his face, she could imagine what his shoulder and buttock must look like.
“Are you feeling well, Mr Darcy? Should you not rest?”
He waved her away.
“No, we must finish this business. There is really not a moment to lose as long as those cutthroats and ruffians are still at large,” he said, dismissing her concerns.
“Why, have you heard something about Lydia?” Elizabeth enquired eagerly.
“No, you must pardon my poor choice of words. I have not heard anything new, and Mrs Younge has fled, but Georgiana has something to relate about George Wickham, so we had better listen. It appears he has joined the regulars and has been stationed in Ramsgate. He was a frequent visitor to their house as an old family friend and my father’s godson. I would like to know who bought his commission, but it is not relevant at this point. Please continue, Georgiana.”
Elizabeth nodded, discouraged. She had hoped Mrs Younge would have information concerning Lydia’s whereabouts. Hereyes turned towards the girl, who was standing at the foot of the bed with pleading eyes directed at her brother. It was obvious Elizabeth had interrupted something when she had walked in. Her sister was flanked by her cousins, who looked like they were guarding her against bolting from the chamber.
Miss Darcy’s eyes flickered briefly to Elizabeth. She understood and moved into the shadows along the wall. It was difficult enough for the girl to face her brother with her cousins hovering over her.
“Mr Wickham made me write him a letter with a lot of drivel and nonsense, nothing of import. I doubt it could be useful to him. It was just a bit of fun.”
“Do you remember anything specific, Georgiana?” Mr Darcy’s voice was soft and tender, not accusing.
“It made little sense to me. He wanted me to write about mending his pen, his excellent skills with his blade, and how I was greatly anticipating seeing him. It all could be explained by small anecdotes from my childhood.”
The girl obviously did not understand the hidden meaning, which spoke in her defence. But in the wrong hands, the letter might cause considerable damage to her reputation.
“We shall deal with that matter when we come to it. What I would like to know, Georgiana, is how you came to trust the man who abducted you enough to write him a letter?” the colonel wanted to know.
“I was never kidnapped. Neither was Lydia or Kitty. Their father called them back to London because of an emergency. Mrs Younge and I were to escort them to the first inn where they were to meet their father while Mrs Younge and I returned to Ramsgate.”
“Did you notice the carriage you were put in?”
“I believe it was black.”
“Why did you not return to Ramsgate?”
“Mrs Younge realised that I missed my home and my brother, so she suggested we could continue to London as well. A message was sent to close up the house in Ramsgate, and another was sent to Darcy House to notify my brother about my premature return. A reply from Fitzwilliam waited for us at the last inn, instructing us to wait for him at my aunt’s townhouse.”
“Why would I ask you to wait at our aunt’s house?” Darcy enquired.
“I do not know, Brother. It is all very confusing.”
