Page 35 of The Long Road Back to Yesterday

Addressing Richard, he asked, “Will you return with me to Darcy House? I am told there is a Scottish horse breeder by the name of Frazier, and I mean to travel north to inspect his stables. Barton's latest acquisition came from that stable. Perhaps you will accompany me.”

“Yes, I shall return with you. In truth, I have a mind to go to Scotland as well. We can discuss it tonight over a cup of that fine Madeira you served me last evening.”

Darcy chuckled, and the matter was settled.

At eight o'clock that evening, Higgins entered with the correspondence.

“Sir, the evening mail has arrived. I also made bold to bring Miss Darcy's letter. It came in yesterday evening's post, sir, and I see you have not yet opened it.”

Darcy accepted the correspondence from the butler. “Thank you, Higgins. You may secure the house for the night. We shall remain here the rest of the evening.”

“Yes, sir.”

Darcy broke the seal on Georgiana's letter and read her fine hand. He sank into a chair.

Richard looked at him. “What is it, Darcy? What has happened?”

Darcy found no words. He held the letter out to his cousin and covered his eyes with his hands.

Richard took it. “She is marrying George Wickham? George Wickham is in Ramsgate? And where is Mrs. Younge? Why have we not received a letter from her?”

Darcy offered no reply. He sat motionless, grief and disbelief holding him silent.

Richard dropped onto a nearby couch and studied the brief missive more closely. “This letter was written three days ago. They are still in Ramsgate. If we leave now, Darcy, we can arrive in the morning. It is only seventy-two miles, easily covered in a carriage. We shall stop only to change horses.”

Darcy lifted his head, hope stirring. “Yes, we can. Unless he has carried her to another place.”

“No. She writes that Wickham intends a leisurely wedding journey and that they will stay at the leased house for one week before coming to you in London.”

“That is an outright lie. Wickham has no intention of bringing her to me, for he has not married her. He means to ruin her, then force me to release her dowry.” Darcy rose. “Richard, he shall not touch a farthing of her dowry.”

He paced the room. “If he means to blackmail me, I have purchased enough of his debts over the past ten years to throw him into debtors' prison. He has crossed a line, and the reprobate has forfeited every claim to my forbearance.”

Richard rose. “Come. Let us go upstairs and change into traveling clothes. I shall tell Higgins to order the carriage.”

Darcy moved to the door, determined now. He would rescue his sister from that black-hearted villain. “I will fetch my traveling pistols.”

“Send one of the Miller brothers to Matlock House to collect mine and my sword while I go upstairs and change,” Richard said, and then the colonel left the room.

* * *

But three days had passed since her wedding ceremony, and Georgiana already had ample cause to regret her rash decision.

Mr. Wickham had left sometime during the night for a tavern. It was ten o'clock, and he had only just returned, reeking of drink and enraged.

She and Mrs. Younge were working on an embroidery sampler in the drawing room when he burst in. Georgiana laid aside her embroidery hoop. Her hands trembled at the sight of him.

“You, girl, pour me a drink. Clarissa, draw the curtains. My head is splitting.”

Georgiana's stricken gaze met her companion's.

“Go along and do as he says.”

Mrs. Younge rose and drew the heavy drapes. The bright sunshine vanished.

“That is better.” Wickham dropped into a chair. “Where is my drink?” He glared at Georgiana.

Georgiana reached for the decanter, but her trembling hands would not obey her. Mrs. Younge hurried to her side, poured the brandy herself, and carried it to Mr. Wickham.