“Why did you call him Darcy?” Mr. Collins called, scampering after them.
Night had fallen, and Rosings looked aglow from candlelight through the glazing. “What brought this about?”he asked Miss de Bourgh, who was struggling to keep up with his long legs.
“I am uncertain. He received an express from London yesterday and immediately had a horse saddled before riding off without a word.”
“I saw him depart as we arrived from London.”
“Yes, we knew not what had caused his flight, but to be honest, were quite relieved,” she panted. “He had become more and more agitated, rummaging through books in the library, trunks in the attic.”
“He is still searching for something?”
“Yes. My mother was furious and confronted him. Still, he said he knew aboutthe letterand would find it. It is some letter which could change the course of his life, he says.”
“What letter?” Elizabeth asked, attempting to catch her breath.
“I know not. My mother seems to have an inkling but refuses to answer any of my questions.”
Darcy said, “I am certain his reaction comes from the news of my new-found parentage.”
They ran up the stairs to the portico and Miss de Bourgh said, “He accused Georgiana of knowing all alongand was hiding the Darcy money for you. He has lost his mind.”
They raced through the door and through the empty hall. “Where are the servants? You,” he said, spotting a footman coming from below stairs, “you follow me to Mrs. Wickham’s room immediately!”
The man moved with haste, following Darcy to the family wing.
“How do you know where you are going?” Elizabeth asked.
He was saved from answering as they rounded the corner to Georgiana’s room and were halted. Before them, bound and gagged, was Georgiana, carried by a hulking man with his arms tightly securing her form.
“Release her at once!” Darcy bellowed over Lady Catherine’s cries, sending the corridor filled with footmen and maids into silence.
“She ismywife,” Wickham snarled. “And she has been deemed insane.”
“By whom?” Darcy said, stepping forward. “Where are the physicians who have done so? I demand to see their report.”
Wickham cackled. “Your demands are meaningless. She is my wife, and you are nothing to her but her bastardbrother. If I had not received the express from a dear friend in London—”
“You may have your spies in London, and even at de Bourgh House, but that does not change the fact: I am the heir to Pemberley and the Darcy name. All of its land and possessions are mine.”
“By what authority?” Wickham sneered.
“By the authority of my father,” he said, pulling the letter from his coat pocket. “Notarized here by Bainbridge & Sons.”
“Where…where did you find that?” he asked. “I have scoured the attics of Rosings, through every book and piece of furniture for the letter which my godfather said would bring about the fall of the Darcys and Fitzwilliams.”
“That?Thatis the letter you sought?” Lady Catherine’s outcry startled Darcy. “Thatis why I allowed him to control us? That is not the letter from my sister to her husband,” she said almost to herself.
“What letter from Lady Anne to Uncle Darcy? Mother, of what are you speaking?” Anne asked.
“What are you mumbling about, you old hag?That”—pointing at the letter in Darcy’s hand—“is the letter which would ensure my place in this family. I overheard a conversation between Sir Lewis and my godfather years agoabout hissonand a secret account. It was then I knew I would have to marry Georgie to reap the wealth I deserved. That my years of scraping at my godfather’s boots would give me nothing but a gentleman’s education and a living at Kympton if I wanted it, he said. I assure you… I wanted more.”
Wickham lunged for the parchment before Darcy pulled it away, returning it to his coat. Darcy’s controlled tone showed the measure of the man. “That is a sorry tale indeed, Wickham. A gentleman’s education for the son of a steward. More than any other landowner would offer, yet this is how you repay him? Now, put her down.”
A menacing sound came from Wickham’s lips. “There is nothing left of Pemberley or the Darcy estate. It is owned by another and will never fall into your hands.”
“It is owned by me,” Lady Catherine said. “And I am returning it to the Darcy family. But,” she said, turning to Darcy, “the terms of our agreement have not been fulfilled.”
Looking between the two of them, Wickham stayed the progress of his ruffian as Georgiana kicked and cried out with exertion.
