A moment later, they saw him, flanked by two footmen, one on either side, being conducted through the front garden and out the gates, which were shut and locked behind him.
The two young women watched as Mr. Wickham walked along the road that fronted the house, and when he reached the corner, he stopped and looked back.
He began to scan the windows, even those of the upper story.
Elizabeth felt a chill pass through her as his gaze lingered upon the very place where she stood concealed.
Then, to her dismay, he approached the stone fence, hoisted himself upon the flat surface, swung one leg over, and dropped into the side garden of Darcy House.
Georgiana gasped. “Lizzy, did you see him?”
“I did. Come. We must tell Higgins. I pray every door has been secured.”
“There are no doors on that side of the house,” Georgiana whispered, “and the windows are too high. But Fitzwilliam sometimes leaves the library doors unfastened, that he may come and go with ease.”
“Then we must ensure they are locked.”
They ran down the stairs, startling Higgins and Dunn in the hall.
Georgiana cried out. “He has jumped the stone fence. He is in the side garden. Have the library doors been secured?”
Higgins turned to the footman, “Dunn, go and see to the doors.”
The man ran to do as bidden.
Elizabeth said, “Sir, send for a constable to deal with this trespasser.”
“Miss Elizabeth, the parish constable resides on the other side of Mayfair, and he is too old to be of any use,” Higgins replied. “Our men must take Mr. Wickham, and we shall bring him before a magistrate. Perhaps a night or two in gaol will teach him to respect the privacy of a gentleman.”
He turned to the hall boy.
“Christopher, run down to the kitchens and fetch the other men to assist us.”
The boy fled down to the lower floor.
Higgins ordered, “Finch, take Dunn, Gibbs, and Hardy, and sweep the yard.”
Then he turned back to the two ladies.
“For the present, you should go up to Miss Georgiana’s room and lock yourselves in. I will come to you as soon as Mr. Wickham has been apprehended.”
“Lizzy, I am afraid.”
Elizabeth took her hand. “Come, let us return to your room.”
As they ascended the stairs, Georgiana asked, “What if Mr. Wickham knows this house, and knows where my bedchamber lies?”
“Why should he? Has he ever been in this house? How could he know which chamber is yours?”
“He could not, unless Mrs. Younge told him.”
She took Georgiana’s hand and hurried her up the stairs.
“Come, let us lock ourselves in your room where we will be safe.”
When they entered Georgiana’s bedchamber, Elizabeth stood watch as Georgiana turned the key in the lock.
“Lizzy,” she whispered, “what if he is hiding here?”
