Mr. Darcy's Forbidden Love-kindle (46 page)

With renewed determination, he continued to pursue the man kidnapping his daughter and in light of her rescuer’s tenacity, Wickham pushed Georgiana to the ground and ran. Very swiftly reaching the chosen pathway, he was soon out of sight, hidden by the trees and brush that lay between the sand and his waiting coach.

Reaching Georgiana, Landingham kneeled quickly and gathered her in his arms, soothing her with soft words as she cried. Though seconds ago the most important thing on his mind was pursuing her kidnapper, his duty was clear. She needed him, and he would catch the blackguard later. Glancing back, he witnessed Audrey helping Elizabeth to her feet. Behind them a large group had gathered on the gazebo and the boardwalk, though Lord Wilkens had not moved and was shaking his head as though he thought them all fools.

Soon Audrey and Elizabeth were falling to their knees beside Lord Landingham. The younger woman embraced Georgiana while Audrey reached to examine his wound, her face full of tender feelings. Giving his love a small smile to convey that he was not severely injured, Landingham began untying his cravat. He was not surprised when she took it from his hands and began to wrap it around his head as a bandage. Once finished, Audrey brought one of his hands discreetly to her lips and bestowed a kiss on the back. Then, she turned to console her niece who was enquiring of Elizabeth if she was hurt.

“No, no real harm done,” the young woman insisted, giving Georgiana’s aunt a reassuring smile over the girl’s head. 

As he watched the tender scene, all three ladies hugging and crying softly, Landingham fought to hold back his own tears. And when at last he stood, it was with a new determination—for however many years he had left, Georgiana would know the truth of her parentage.

After a time, they all stood to begin their trek back to the gallery, and Landingham insisted on carrying Georgiana. As he swept her into his arms, she did not object but laid her head on his chest, and the heart that was shattered years ago when his child was born, destined to be called by another man’s name, slowly began to mend.

 

~~~*~~~

On the Road to Rosings

 

Wickham slumped back, letting his head rest against the tufted seat of Lady Catherine’s coach as the vehicle pitched wildly from side to side. Grateful that it bore no insignia to be identified, he closed his eyes and rubbed a still trembling hand across his sweat covered forehead.

How had everything gone so wrong?

Suddenly the carriage hit a deep hole, the road having been rutted by recent rains, and his teeth almost jarred from his mouth. The coach driver had whipped the horses into a fury after Wickham had reached the vehicle, shouting orders like a madman, and had not yet let up on the poor beasts. Though he knew they could not sustain the current pace the entire way to Rosings, Wickham had not ordered the driver to slow. For in truth, the devil would have been more welcome than those who would soon to be on his trail—Darcy, Colonel Fitzwilliam and now, Lord Landingham.

In all likelihood, their coach would be miles from town before anyone at the gallery learned the full extent of the conspiracy that had played out right under their noses. Thus, taking deep breaths and releasing them slowly, Wickham willed his racing heart to calm as he considered all that had happened.

All his carefully laid plans had dissolved in an instant at the hands of that one meddlesome woman. And in failing to kidnap Georgiana, he had shot a man of great import in a moment of madness. In the heat of the moment, he had not recognised Lord Landingham until after the weapon discharged, but had he known the identity of the man, he might have run off sooner and not drawn his pistol. One thing for certain, the shot had not been fatal, and he had created another notable enemy.

It happened so fast.
I wonder if he even recognised me. If that stupid woman had not hurried to the gazebo, I would have made off with her!
Wickham cursed aloud.
It is no matter. After Georgiana gives them my name, Landingham will not rest until I hang.

He had ordered the carriage directly to Rosings Park because he knew it was unwise to travel the road to London. Darcy would rush to be with his sister, and the last thing Wickham wanted was to encounter Georgiana’s brother. No, he would return the coach to Lady Catherine and hide there for a few days.

Of course, she would be vexed, but what choice did he have? Besides, he reasoned, the old harridan could complain all she wanted; she was just as involved in this affair as he, and Wickham had no intentions of taking sole responsibility if apprehended. He would implicate Lady Catherine and Gisela too, if need be.

The one thing he had learned in his long history with the law was that leverage was everything. When facing prosecution, it helped to have secrets to tell, especially secrets involving members of the
ton
. The law might not care, but if he got word to those involved in the intrigues, they would see that he was treated fairly in exchange for sharing what he knew or, conversely, keeping his mouth shut. And there was a great deal he knew about Lady Catherine—most of it involving Fitzwilliam Darcy. If he was lucky, he would not be hanged but sentenced to prison, or even better—exiled to the penal colony in Australia.

If he had any regrets, it was for being so gullible when he was first approached by Darcy’s aunt with an offer of a stipend to keep his eyes and ears open and a chance to earn more for anything
significant
he could pass along to her. Eager to supplement his income, he had invented ways to pry into the Darcy’s business, such as eavesdropping and stealing outgoing letters. In hindsight, if he had read them before giving them to Lady Catherine, he would have kept the ones from Lady Anne Darcy to Landingham. Those revealed that he was Georgiana’s father. But it was too late. He had learned of it only after Lady Catherine gave them to Gisela to blackmail Darcy.

If I had just one of those letters, I would not have to resort to kidnapping. I could have blackmailed both Darcy and Landingham and left for the Continent years ago. Perhaps I can pinch at least one from Gisela the next time I am in London. Deuce take it, the way she drinks, she would probably have given them to me if I asked!

In spite of fearing that someone could be following right behind, Wickham pounded on the coach roof to order the driver to slow down. It would not do to injure the horses and be stranded along the road. And as he felt the coach slow to a more reasonable pace, he began to practice what he would say to the Mistress of Rosings.

There was a contingent of soldiers nearby, and when Georgiana screamed…
 

 

~~~*~~~

London
Darcy House
William’s Study

 

William and Richard exchanged looks, each raising a brow in question, as they watched the Earl of Matlock drain the entire contents of a glass of brandy in one swallow, then proceed to the liquor cabinet and pour a refill.

“One more. I think I am going to need it.”

More puzzled expressions passed between the cousins. Neither could remember ever seeing Richard’s father so upset. When William had received his uncle’s note that morning citing an urgent matter regarding Gisela, he realised that he could not put off seeing him any longer. Now both cousins waited with bated breath for Lord Matlock to speak.

 

As he sat down in the chair opposite Richard and across the desk from William, he began. “I had an unexpected visit from my solicitor last evening.”

“And …” William ventured.

“I know about your enquiries into the joint venture started by de Bourgh, Montgomery and your father. It appears the man you hired to investigate—Lowell, is that his name?” At William’s nod he continued. “Well, Mr. Lowell is a cousin of my solicitor, Mr. Godbee. And weeks ago he asked Godbee for a second opinion regarding some things he had discovered while going through the files at Ferguson’s office.”

“Yes, I told Ferguson that I wanted Mr. Lowell to have access to all the records.”

Lord Matlock now punctuated the air with his glass. “You do realise that Mr. Ferguson is Catherine’s lackey. You cannot trust the man!”

“Yes, I know. He was here a day or two ago, and I did not meet with him. He left another of his questionable financial statements.”

“At any rate, Lowell obtained copies of two inventories dated the same date. One showed the new equipment and one did not, and that stirred his curiosity. He deduced that Catherine was in favour of more equipment for the mills, but she was having Mr. Ferguson deposit the funds appropriated from your individual accounts into an account solely for her use. Thus, one inventory for your use showed the equipment, though the true inventory did not. Lowell told Godbee that he had decided to travel to the mills to see for himself if there was any new equipment.”

“And what did my aunt do with the purloined funds?”

“Godbee speculates it went to equip a shipyard in Liverpool and some mines in Wales that Catherine has added to her investment holdings.”

William looked puzzled. “And how would Godbee know what my aunt owns?”

“Good Lord, Darcy! Do you think unscrupulous solicitors do not spread gossip among themselves when they drink too much? Godbee says there are some that would not be practicing if their clients were apprised of their loose tongues.”

“So it was as I suspected. The reason my investment has lost money the last two years is because my aunt has been cheating me.”

“Yes, and it is obvious that your wife is privy to Catherine’s plan, as she always voted with her. I would not be surprised if my sister was giving her a portion in secret.” The earl stood and walked over to look out the window. “But that is not the worst of it.”

Richard’s frown deepened. “What could be worse?”

“There has been a murder.”

Both cousins leapt to their feet, but William was first to reply. “Is that why Lowell has not been in touch…he is dead?”

The earl came back to join his son and nephew in a circle. “Yes…I fear so.”

William slowly shook his head and looked away, trying to regain control. Recovering he turned back to his Uncle. “Tell me all you know. What happened?”

The Earl took a deep breath. Clearing his throat he began. “Godbee would not have known to come to me, except that Lowell feared something like this might happen and left instructions in a letter. Godbee was supposed to hear from him at least once a week, and if he did not, he was to read the letter. Since he has heard nothing in two weeks, he did as he was asked. Inside were copies of everything Lowell had uncovered and all his suspicions.

 

“Godbee was to give us both a copy, and he came to me first. He asked if I would inform you, since the letter implicates your wife. Godbee is an honest man, and he will not let this drop, gentlemen. He is determined to investigate his cousin’s disappearance and everything will be public knowledge before long. I asked him to give me two weeks to investigate before he takes action. I felt it best if I questioned Gisela, given your present stalemate.”

“You have already confronted Gisela?”

“This very morning, right before I sent the note requesting a meeting.”

William poured himself a brandy. “And how did you find my lovely wife?”

“Mrs. Darcy was not in any condition for company. It appeared she had not been out in days. She is drinking heavily.”

“That is no secret.”

“In any event, when I confronted her, she laughed. Laughed, mind you!” The earl shook his head in disbelief. “It is obvious from Lowell’s papers that she and Catherine were cheating you with Ferguson’s help. God help that man when I get hold of him! All Gisela had to say in her defence was that Lady Catherine handles all her shares in the venture, as she takes no interest in them. And since you will not speak to her, she cares not a whit if you are being cheated.”

“Her usual charming self,” William sniffed.

The earl rose to his feet, setting another empty glass down on the desktop. “Well, I shall have her investigated as thoroughly as my sister. I intend to know the truth of it, and I told her as much. However, I do not think she was the instigator. That honour goes to Catherine. In any event, I must insist, Nephew, that you begin an immediate suit for a divorce. I will support you, as will my friends in the House of Lords, and so will my second cousin, the bishop.  God knows you have enough witnesses to Gisela’s liaisons with other men. You shall have every possible means of support in this quest! I want that woman out of the family!”

Richard began to chuckle. “And how do you plan to rid the family of Aunt Catherine?”

The earl rounded on his son, not amused. “I have my own plans for Catherine. I think she is completely mad if she ordered this man’s murder. If I can prove it, she shall end her days in Bedlam.”

“And Rosings?”

“I am executor of her estate in the event she is incapacitated, and I will see that her will is followed. It shall pass to you, Son.”

Richard’s brows rose. “I never wanted it this way.”

“Nor did I, but I shall not let her act as a dictator, able to order murder at her whim. If it is true, it would be better that she be committed than hanged.”

“I see your point.”

The Earl of Matlock squared his shoulders as he turned to Darcy. “What say you to the divorce?”

William tried not to smile. He did not want his uncle to know that he had been planning to inform him soon that he was going to seek a divorce. And he had no intention of mentioning the lady that prompted his decision. “I could not agree more.”

 

“Good! I shall begin the necessary procedures, if you will notify your solicitor tomorrow to inform that harridan that you intend to secure a divorce on the grounds of her adultery.”

“Tomorrow cannot come fast enough,” William responded. “I pray my aunt will support me as well.”

“No need to worry about Eleanor. She could never stand Gisela though she tried to keep up appearances. This will give her leave to cut her completely.”

Richard stood and grabbed the crystal decanter and began to pour two fingers of liquor in everyone’s glass. “Let us drink to the truth.” He held his glass out to William. “It shall set you free, my friend, and it is about time.”

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