Lady Helen’s eyes filled with hope. “Oh, my son. Perhaps he will yet have a chance at recovery. I have been unable to get much tea into him.”
Darcy turned to her. “Aunt, you go and rest. I will remain with Phillip and offer him his tea.”
Darcy tended to his cousin for the next several hours, while his mind strayed to London and to the woman he had left behind.
He wondered whether Georgiana had invited Elizabeth to Darcy House for tea. It had been a great pleasure to have her beneath his roof, to see her in his drawing room and seated at his table. He had taken particular pleasure when Georgiana led her to the family wing to display her sketches. In that moment, he could almost imagine her established in his mother’s former apartments, the mistress’s chambers that adjoined his own.
He perceived, then, that his dearest wish was to have her always beside him, in London and at Pemberley alike. But what of Uncle Henry? Were he to present Elizabeth as his intended bride, Uncle Henry would oppose the match, for he was a proud man. And then there was Lady Catherine, who would raise an outcry and perhaps wage a campaign of gossip against such a connection. But neither Phillip nor Richard would object to his choice, for they did not subscribe to the rigid notions so firmly held by the older generation.
When Miles, Phillip’s valet, arrived to take his turn, Darcy instructed him in the use of the toddy lifter and retired to his own room, knowing full well that Miss Elizabeth could never be his wife.
Chapter 20: Desperate Measures
Unable to concentrate on the novel, Georgiana asked, “Lizzy, shall I write to my brother about George Wickham?”
“Yes, I think that is a very good idea. Do you know where to send the letter?”
“He traveled to Nottinghamshire to conduct business for my uncle, and then he will call upon my cousin Phillip. If I address it there, he will find it when he arrives.”
“Then you should write to him. He will know to hurry himself back to London, and to see how you go on.”
Georgiana took up the novel again and began to read aloud, but they had scarcely settled when they heard the unmistakable sound of a key turning in the door.
Georgiana looked at Elizabeth, who raised a finger to her lips, bidding the girl keep silent.
Then Elizabeth motioned toward the shovel and pointed to the drapes.
Georgiana rose at once, took up the heavy little shovel, and moved soundlessly to the window, slipping behind the heavy floor-length drapes.
Elizabeth, meanwhile, seized the poker and positioned herself along the wall, concealed behind the door, where she might strike unseen should Wickham be stealing his way into the room.
She raised the poker, poised to strike, and waited.
Surely it could not be the butler or the housekeeper. Either would have knocked and identified themselves.
Instead, the person on the other side tried again, Elizabeth guessed, with another key. Then another.
At last, on the third attempt, the lock clicked. The knob turned, and the door opened.
Elizabeth heard heavy footsteps enter the room and then silence. Her heart beat with such force that the sound of it seemed to fill her ears, and she feared that the trembling of her limbs would render her entirely useless.
The intruder must be surveying the chamber. Fear escalated and gripped her in a vice that twisted her stomach and caused her heart to race uncontrollably. Yet she stood silent and motionless, waiting to see who had entered the room.
The steps advanced farther inside, and then she saw him.
Mr. Wickham.
His back was to her as he stood, motionless, surveying the space.
Elizabeth swung the poker as though it were a cricket bat. It was heavy wrought iron, and when it struck his leg at the level of his knee, the force of it sent him crashing to the floor.
Wickham shrieked in pain, stunned and gasping, and he lay for a moment where he fell.
Elizabeth ran to the door and began to scream. “Higgins! Send the footman! Wickham is here, in Georgiana’s room!”
Georgiana ran out from behind the drapes, crying out in fear at the sight of Wickham sprawled upon the floor.
But when he twisted sharply and caught Elizabeth’s ankle in his grasp, Georgiana acted without hesitation, striking down with the little shovel upon the arm that held Elizabeth fast.
