Suddenly a door at the back of the hall opened with a bang and Darcy’s cook rushed in with a piece of paper in her hand. “If you please, sir. A boy just left this at the back entrance. The back entrance! I told him messages should be delivered at the front, but he ran away before I could ask him where he come from.”
Fearing the worst, Darcy ripped the message from the cook’s hand and tore it open. Wide-eyed, she quickly retreated down the hall and back into the kitchen. Fitzwilliam watched Darcy as he hurriedly read the letter. When he was finished, the paper simply fell from his fingers as Darcy froze with an expression of pure horror on his face.
“What is it?” Seeing that no answer would be immediately forthcoming, Fitzwilliam retrieved the note from the floor.
Dear Darcy,
Seems I was right. Elizabeth does prefer my company to you
rs. I encountered her by chance on the street and she begged me quite eloquently to take her away from you. I could not, in good conscience, refuse. She has asked me to tell you she hopes you will not search for her. It would only cause a scandal and she does care about you a little after all. Just not enough.
Yours,
George Wickham.
Fitzwilliam read the letter through again and snorted a laugh, the unexpected sound bringing Darcy to life. “As if you would actually believe she would elope with George Wickham!”
“You think the note is untrue?”
“Untrue? Of course it is—” Fitzwilliam stopped and regarded his cousin’s frozen visage carefully. Darcy had turned his head toward his cousin, but his gaze seemed more inward than anything else. “You do not believe any part of this, do you?”
Darcy walked back to the table, turning his back on Fitzwilliam and staring blankly at the map of London. “When Wickham was here yesterday, he reminded me that back in Hertfordshire there was a time when Elizabeth preferred him to me.”
“But that was before she knew his true character!”
“He said he had kissed her in the garden at Longbourn and that he knew she still harbored a passion for him.”
Fitzwilliam shook his head. “You are an idiot! To believe those lies after everything Elizabeth has been to you. I have never seen a woman so besotted in all my life. She barely notices that other men exist!”
Darcy glanced at his cousin briefly to ascertain how deeply his cousin believed his words. Then he returned his gaze to the map. “But if not for my fortune—”
“She cares nothing for your fortune. She loves you. I have never been more certain of anything in my life.” Darcy’s head remained bowed over the table and Fitzwilliam could not see his face, but he decided to attempt another strategy. “See here, if Elizabeth had decided to elope with Wickham, why would she have him write the letter for her? He probably attempted to have her pen such a letter, but she refused, so he had to do it. And the letter mentions nothing about your marriage. It is written as if you and Elizabeth are engaged. Eloping after marriage is quite a different matter from breaking off an engagement. Divorces are very difficult to obtain.”
“That is true.” Darcy began straightening up.
“Elizabeth is a very clever woman,” Fitzwilliam continued. “She would not believe she could escape your marriage so easily – if she wished to, which I am certain she does not.”
The Colonel paused for a moment, allowing these words to sink in. Darcy’s eyes were closed and his face was etched with pain, but then he shook his head emphatically as if to clear out the negative thoughts. Fitzwilliam clapped him on the shoulder. “Wickham knows you entirely too well. He knows exactly where you are most vulnerable. You should not allow him to manipulate you.”
Darcy combed his fingers through his hair. “You are right. I am being an idiot.”
“Of course. I am always right.” Fitzwilliam tried to focus his cousin on the task at hand. “This note is good news. We can narrow our search to those places frequented by Wickham – or places accessible to him. It will be far simpler than searching the whole of London.”
Darcy returned to the desk and penned a quick note. “I am sending word to Bow Street now. They have been investigating Wickham for a long time. They know his haunts.” Darcy rang for a footman to take the note and the man left. “And you and I should visit Mrs. Younge,” Darcy started toward the door.
Fitzwilliam stopped him with a hand to his arm, his eyes bright with concern. “You and I know that Wickham’s note lies. He and Elizabeth are not eloping. But have you considered his true motivation? He could wrest quite a bit of money from you in ransom. Money is usually behind his every action, but this letter does not mention it.”
“True. Perhaps he is attempting to shake my confidence and then demand money.”
Fitzwilliam nodded slowly, lost in thought. “Perhaps. Or perhaps he has a completely different motivation.”
“You mean seduction?” Darcy asked, his face grim.
Fitzwilliam nodded. “But we can be confident she will not respond to his ‘charms.’”
Darcy’s expression was thunderously dark. “And what will he do when she refuses to be seduced? Good Lord, we must locate her immediately!”
Elizabeth stared out the window again, but it was too high to climb down. It could be opened, she had discovered, but if she climbed out there would be nothing between her and the ground. She was not that desperate – yet. After trapping her in the carriage, Wickham and his henchmen had brought Elizabeth to this town house – in a part of the city she did not recognize – and locked her in this musty attic room on the third floor, most likely a former servant’s room. They had not been rough or threatening; in fact, Wickham talked very smoothly, but she was not fooled. She was a prisoner.