Georgiana, emboldened by her brother’s words, nodded fiercely. “And I shall stand by her, as any friend—and any sister—should.”
The Earl considered this, then gave a decisive nod. “Very well. We shall move at once. The Morning Post has made formidable enemies—two Earls, both Lord Wellington and I.”
* * *
“William, have you not thought who knew I was abducted from Brighton?” said Georgiana softly, as she and Darcy returned to their house in Grosvenor Square. “And only someone in León could have known that Elizabeth walked into the French camp—perhaps they saw her enter, or learnt her description from Colonel Dumoustier. And now that person is in Madrid—certainly an Englishman, not French, who would be hunted down by the partisans.”
Darcy gazed at his sister. She was no longer the naive young girl he had rescued from Wickham on the Great North Road. She, in turn, was intently staring at him.
Wickham. Of course, Mr. Williams, the Morning Post’s correspondent, was Wickham. Writing with spleen and malice.
“You have guessed it, brother. Certainly the man is Wickham.”
Darcy’s fingers curled. “The paper’s editor will have his direction—at the very least, a place where Wickham collects his mail and the remuneration for his articles. I shall send a note to the Earl in the morning. Under the threat of deportation, we should know where Wickham hides in Spain by the afternoon.”
“Yet Wickham must have contacts in London,” said Georgiana. “When he learns that his identity has been discovered, or that the Post no longer accepts his articles, he may flee—and we will have lost him. No! Elizabeth should nothave to bear such pain again. He is a wicked man, William. In Spain, good men died fighting for His Majesty, to keep England free from the tyrant. Wickham has no claim to mercy, or Darcy generosity. He abused our father’s trust; let it stop now.”
Darcy took Georgiana’s hands in his. There was flint in her eyes—certainly no longer the young woman he had taken to Brighton to promenade on the Steyne. “What do you suggest?” he asked, coming to understand that their relationship had changed. She was his equal—not hisyoungsister, nor hislittlesister.
“The Earl must tread carefully. Oh, it is so unfair! But until Mr. Williams—Wickham—is dealt with, I believe that Elizabeth should, shall we say,disappearfor a time. Not to Longbourn, for Wickham certainly has intelligence of that place. Perhaps she could go on a tour, maybe ending at Pemberley?”
Darcy smiled; a smile which turned into the broadest of grins. “Leaving tomorrow, a fast packet will take no more than seven days from London to Porto, likely less. One of Wellington’s couriers, or Mateo’s partisans, can make the journey from Porto to Madrid in the same time. Two weeks, Georgiana! Three to be safe—then Elizabeth and you will be free from Wickham’s perfidy.”
“You spoke of Miss Bennet, Elizabeth’s sister. I believe that Mr. Bingley is courting her. You cannot let him be misled—otherwise, he may withdraw his suit.”
“Georgiana—matchmaking? As luck would have it, I am to dine with Bingley tomorrow evening. I shall inform him of the truth—then, it is up to him as to what he does. But he has a strong heart and is very loyal to those he loves. More’s the pity he puts up with his sister Caroline’s poor behaviour, but I believe he genuinely admires Miss Bennet—all will be well.”
* * *
“Bingley, before we go into dinner, we must talk—it is most urgent.” Darcy strode across the entry of Hurst’s house on Grosvenor Street and clasped his friend’s hand. “My apologies, but it cannot wait.”
“Of course, Darcy. I believe the study is free; we can talk in there.” Bingley led him down a poorly lit corridor. Darcy carefully closed the door after they both entered Hurst’s study—a rather dingy room, the bookshelves scarcely half-full, an empty decanter on the stained desk.
“You are being mysterious, Darcy,” Bingley said amiably. “But would you take a drink?”
“Later.” Darcy walked further into the room. “I understand you have been courting Miss Bennet—Miss Jane Bennet of Longbourn.”
“Oh, she is an angel, Darcy. I could not conceive of anyone sweeter, nor more beautiful.”
Darcy paused. Clearly, Bingley had not read the Morning Post. “Do you receive the Post?” he asked.
“The Post? Of course, Caroline certainly wouldn’t wish to miss the lateston ditsand gossip. I have not seen it today. But if you would like a copy, I’ll ask Caroline—she seems to have taken the last few papers to her parlour.” Bingley regarded Darcy with some confusion. His friend’s manner was agitated, so unlike his normal reserved self.
Darcy took a column cut from the newspaper from his pocket and handed it to Bingley. “This was in yesterday’s paper. I took the liberty of cutting out the offending column. Please read it—for it very much concerns Miss Bennet.”
Bingley read the article, his eyes narrowing. “Miss E.B.—Miss Elizabeth, Jane’s sister? Miss G.D.—Georgiana? Miss L.B.—Lydia?” He slumped in a chair, burying his face. “What is this about, Darcy?”
“It is slander of the meanest kind. I do not have time enough to tell you all, but I ask you to trust me, Bingley. You did not hear of it—it was kept very close—but Miss Elizabeth, Miss Lydia, and Georgiana were abducted from the Parade at Brighton—you might guess by whom: Wickham, in league with the French.”
“The French! My God, but are they safe now? Of course! Miss Elizabeth stays with her aunt and uncle at Gracechurch Street. I had invited them to dine this evening, but they withdrew, citing a slight indisposition.”
“All are safe, Bingley. The article spews falsehoods about Miss Elizabeth and Lydia—foul falsehoods. Even now, the Earl Matlock is taking the editor of the Post to task, forcibly, as only an Earl can do. The man will be lucky if he is not transported, for I have never seen Lord Matlock in such a rage. Lord Wellington, also in town, was incandescent when told.”
“Darcy, whatever is this about?”
“I was there, Bingley. I was at León when we encountered the armies of Bonnet and Caffarelli. I can tell you that Miss Elizabeth has done England a great service. I will not have her disdained! But, as I have said, you must trust me in this, that the lady has done no wrong. The Bennets are to be lauded, not slighted.”
“Darcy, you must promise to explain all to me later. But you have my word. I intend to marry Jane, whatever her sister is alleged to have done. Both she and Miss Elizabeth are true ladies—I will be proud to call Elizabeth sister.”
