Mrs Bennet looked surprised only for a moment. “Well, he is your father, and I suppose he knows best. If you are to go along, it cannot be too dangerous,” she said.
Elizabeth turned to Jane, expecting her sister to share in her excitement. Oddly, Jane did not meet her gaze. She stood up from the settee, wringing her hands. “Papa has asked you to go along? Even though I am the eldest?” she asked.
Elizabeth was taken aback, her heart jumping into her throat. “I did not think you would want to go, Jane,” she said slowly. She had never seen her sister frown so deeply. “It may not be dangerous, but it will still be a difficult and uncomfortable journey.”
Jane frowned still more deeply, shifting from one foot to the other. She looked down at her dainty slippered feet, and when she looked back up, she had masked her emotions, giving a small smile. “Of course, you are right. You are much better suited than I for a journey to the ‘wild lands’.”
Elizabeth looked at her in surprise. Her tone still seemed oddly cold.
But no, surely she only imagined it. Jane would never resent someone else’s good fortune.
Her eldest sister brushed past her and walked out into the corridor, heading to the stairs that led up to the second and third story bedrooms. Lydia and Kitty chattered happily about all the adventures Elizabeth would likely have — and about how pleased they were that they were not to go themselves. After all, the militia was to come to Meryton, not to Edinburgh.
Elizabeth could not regret the missed opportunity, at least not for her own sake. The thought of travelling through the beautiful and mysterious Scottish Highlands was more exciting than a camp full of soldiers could ever be. And better still, she could hope that they would return with Mr Bennet named the heir and their futures secured.
Chapter 2
Fitzwilliam Darcy laid the last letter face down in a stack on his desk. The study of his London townhouse was filled with light from the tall windows, and a gentle breeze blew refreshingly through the room.
It helped little. Even with the calm surroundings and cheery light to bolster his mood, he could not help feeling on edge.
After putting an advertisement in the London Times for a companion for his sister, he had received several replies. He had hoped the Darcy name would present him with a goodly supply of candidates, and it was so. Of course, he had also thought that the last time he had hired a paid companion for his sister.
His lips turned down into a disgusted frown. Mrs Younge had come highly recommended, but the references she had supplied had lied. Darcy now suspected she had had them forged, or had done them herself. With everything that had happened at Ramsgate, he would not have been surprised.
Darcy sighed heavily and stood, stretching his back. He had remained sitting for far too long, and he needed to put some distance between himself and the letters to sort out the best way forward. After the debacle with Mrs Younge and theperfidious Wickham, he would not take any chances with his sister’s well-being. He gave the stack of letters a sideways glance. The applications included several respectable ladies, but none who seemed good enough for his dear Georgiana. She had been so entirely innocent until Wickham had nearly convinced her to elope to Gretna Green. Thankfully, Darcy had made an impromptu surprise visit to Ramsgate. Though Darcy’s only motive had been missing his beloved sister and wishing to give her joy, Georgiana had too much affection and respect for him to keep the secret when actually in his presence. Thus, he had discovered the truth just in time to avert disaster.
Darcy shuddered. Grateful as he was for the reprieve, Georgiana had come much too close to disaster, and Mrs Younge had led her along every step of the way. It could not be allowed to happen again. Hemustfind her a companion truly worthy of her trust.
A knock sounded on the door, and he was glad of the interruption from his dark thoughts. “Come!” he beckoned, and a footman entered bearing a silver tray.
“A letter for you, sir,” he said and approached when Darcy waved him forward. “It seems it was delayed, as it was first sent to Pemberley instead of here,” the young man said with an apologetic nod.
“I see,” Darcy replied, and took the letter from the tray. “Thank you, Peterson.”
The footman bowed and exited the room, leaving him alone to read the mysterious missive. He went to the window, holding the letter toward the light so he might read it.
∞∞∞
Dear Sir,
My name is Ewan Campbell, and I am the estate manager of Strathalt House here in the Scottish Highlands. The late owner of the estate, Hamish Sinclair, has died without direct heirs. However, it was stated in his will that the house and modest lands should go to his nearest living relative.
I am writing to inform you that you may be the closest living heir. If my information is correct, Mr Sinclair was your second cousin twice removed. As of this letter, no nearer relation has yet been discovered. I would ask that you come to Strathalt House with proof of your ancestry to see if you are the heir I am looking for. If I may be so bold, I should like to ask that you come at your earliest convenience; if possible, without the delay of waiting for another exchange of letters. I would be very grateful to determine the future master of the estate, as there are several matters of increasing urgency beyond my own authority.
Your faithful servant,
Mr Ewan Campbell
∞∞∞
Darcy set the letter down, blowing out a long breath in surprise. He had never imagined learning that he had a distant relative in Scotland. He had never even visited the country, andnow he might own an estate there? The news was difficult to fully take in.
Then too, he was asked to come to Scotland without delay. That was a strange thought, and one that he would have to share with Georgiana. Thankfully, his sister had insisted on coming with him to London on this trip, and so he left the study and went to seek an audience with her. There was never any difficulty in finding Georgiana. He simply went to the piano.
He stood in the doorway for a moment, listening as her expert fingers coaxed a beautiful melody out of the ivory and ebony keys. Though the music was beautiful, he did not like how much sorrow seemed to be expressed in every note. Georgiana had never been a boisterous girl, but the events of Ramsgate had left her disheartened and withdrawn, doubting herself at every turn. No amount of reassurances that he was not angry with her seemed to make a dent. Georgiana would recover in her own time, surely. She must. Only, it cut Darcy to the quick to feel how much she still suffered.
She seemed to sense his presence. Georgiana turned around and looked up, making eye contact with him. It was only then that her drawn features brightened with a slight smile. “Fitz. Are you spying on me again?”
