Upon being admitted to Georgiana’s room, they found she was not alone; a maid was engaged in carrying away two of her dresses for laundering. Darcy believed he recognised her as Stephans’s younger sister, an impression that was immediately confirmed when she dropped the dresses on the bed and ran to her sister.
“Oh, Grace, the look on your face! What has happened?”
“Eva!” Stephans reproved her, her voice shaking slightly. “What can you be thinking, being so forward? Mr Darcy has come to speak to his sister. I am sorry about my sister, sir,” she added, turning to Darcy.
He held up a hand. “Do not think of it; we must attend to the present matter.”
“What is going on?” Georgiana exclaimed. “Is Elizabeth worse than we feared?”
“Much worse,” Darcy said grimly. “She has not been seen since lunch, and we cannot find her.”
Eva startled. “Mrs Darcy is missing?” she asked. She backed away from Darcy, shaking her head. “I should never have given it to her. I should have come straight to you, Mr Darcy. But I did not know what I ought to do —”
The girl was not making a modicum of sense. He stepped up to her and steadied her with a hand under her elbow. She looked almost ready to faint. “Get control of yourself, Eva. What is this you’re saying?”
“I went to see Mrs Darcy earlier. A letter arrived for Mr Wickham, and it seemed very strange,” she said haltingly. She bit her lower lip, wringing her hands.
“You were the last to see her, then?” Darcy said in surprise. “Did she not tell you she was going to lie down and rest from a headache,” he said, turning to Georgiana.
She had turned as white as a sheet. “No, I did not say she told me herself,” Georgiana said slowly. “I thought she was in her room because my husband told me she had been complaining of a headache and she asked him to convey her regrets that she would not be at tea. I do not understand —”
Darcy feared he was beginning to understand. He only hoped he was wrong, for the picture that came to mind was unbearably bleak. He turned his attention back to Eva. “What is this letter you spoke of?” he asked.
Eva glanced nervously at Georgiana. “Perhaps this is not the best time to say, Mr Darcy,” she said reluctantly.
Darcy glanced at his sister, knowing equally that what was to be revealed might cause her pain, and that they could not afford to delay. To his relief, she gave him a single, firm nod, though tears shone in her eyes.
“Go on, Eva,” Darcy said. “You must tell us now, for time is of the essence. What did this letter contain?”
“I do not know what was in the letter, sir, only who it was from.” She stalled again, then went on after a short pause. “It was my task to deliver the letters from the morning post. I would have left them on Mr Wickham’s desk without thinking anything of it, but I could not help but notice the addressee as I put it down. It was from Mrs Wickham…”
Georgiana frowned. “How very odd. It could not be an old letter of mine that went astray,” she said, looking down at the floor. “Indeed, there could be no occasion to write.” She looked up at him, her eyes searching, willing him to help her understand.
Darcy tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and bid her take a seat near the hearth. He patted her hand. “I do not think that is the answer, my dear sister,” he said gently.
“Then what could it mean?” she asked, her voice trailing off as recognition dawned. “No, it cannot mean —”
Darcy hated to see the shock spreading over her features, the realisation of the only logical answer.
Stephans stepped forward, clearly confused. “I do not understand. Did Mr Wickham receive a letter from his mother, or perhaps his brother’s wife?” she asked.
Darcy straightened. “Mr Wickham’s mother has been dead for many years,” he said grimly. He glanced at the servants, but there was no point in attempting concealment now. “There is only one explanation. Mr Wickham was already married when he eloped with my sister.”
Georgiana continued to wring her hands, evidently in shock. “It cannot be. There has to be some kind of mistake.” She said the words as if to convince herself, but the effort could only be in vain. Georgiana had once made a fatal error in judging character, but she was no fool. She was already putting the puzzle pieces together, already seeing all the implications of what this would mean for her future if it proved to be the truth.
Darcy started toward the door, turning as he went. “Come. There is only one person who knows the truth,” he said. “Stephans, Eva. Come with us.” He held the door open for Georgiana, and the maids followed behind them as they hurried down the hall toward the grand staircase and made their way to the drawing room.
With two very notable exceptions, all the others were still gathered there. Lady Catherine, who had been dozing on the settee, snorted as she was awakened by the noise of so hasty an arrival.
“Darcy. What is the meaning of you stomping about like a herd of cattle? The very idea!” Lady Catherine scolded, but he had no time to listen to her.
“Have any of you seen Elizabeth?” he asked hurriedly.
Colonel Fitzwilliam rose from his chair near the hearth. He shook his head, a look of concern spreading over his face at the urgency of Darcy’s tone. Miss de Bourgh looked up slowly, folding her hands tightly in her lap. “I have not seen her since lunch,” she said softly.
Darcy turned to Eva. “Then you are the last person who saw her.” He looked around the room.
“You have not asked Mr Wickham —” Anne began, then let her words trail off. She frowned, and everyone seemed to come to the same conclusion. “WhereisMr Wickham?”
