Page 26 of Georgiana
“It were a little after you and the missus returned. I’d finished beddin’ down the ‘orses, when I ‘eard a noise. I followed me knack, thinkin’ it ‘ad sumthin to do wif the carriage and saw a man carryin’ a woman. I now know it ‘ad to be Miss Darcy. ‘E placed ‘er in the carriage and took off at a right fast pace.”
“Why didn’t you tell anyone sooner?”
“Clive came forward before I’d even begun to canvas the servants, Mr. Darcy.” Hutchins interjected. “He didn’t know whom he should tell as the stable foreman had the night off.”
“Thank you, Hutchins.” Darcy once again focused his attention on the stable boy. “Did the carriage have any distinguishing marks?”
“Not that I could tell, ‘ceptin’ the front wheel. It were a different color. Like it were new, and the ‘orses didn’t match. The lead set were a nice pair of greys, there were a bay and the other dark, almost black.” The boy scratched behind his ear, as if in thought. “Mr. Darcy, sir, I can’t say for certain, but the man looked like that bloke what’s been comin’ around. Sir Reginald or sumthin’ like that.”
Darcy looked at Elizabeth, who had wrapped her arms around her midsection, her face etched with worry. The both said together, “Gretna Green.”
Darcy dismissed the servants and got dressed while his valet packed a small valise. Lizzy, unable to sleep, watched from a chair beside the fireplace.
“How far do you think he’ll get before he has to stop for a rest?”
“I don’t−”
“Colonel Fitzwilliam is in foyer, sir.” Hutchins called through the door.
“Richard!” Darcy hurried out of the room, valise in hand and Lizzy followed.
They found Colonel Fitzwilliam pacing the front entryway, slapping his riding gloves against his thigh with each step.
“Richard, when did you arrive home?”
“Earlier in the day, after everyone had left the house. I wasn’t prepared to attend a ball and so I spent a quiet evening at home. Now, enough of this trivial nonsense, tell me what has happened.”
Darcy proceeded to fill Richard in on everything he knew, finishing with, “We have no time to waste. We have reason to believe Slade took her and will head for Gretna Green. He obviously didn’t expect us to realize Georgiana was gone until morning, maybe even early afternoon.”
“That is to our advantage, but at the same time we’re going to have to stop at every inn along the way to make sure she isn’t there.”
Although Richard spoke in a deadly tone, Darcy sensed the same anguish in his cousin that clutched at his belly and squeezed. He feared what would happen to his sweet sister when Slade had her alone, in a room with no where to go.
“Sir Reginald will want to put as much distance between him and London.” Lizzy mused out loud, her tone thoughtful. “All the inns closer to Town have too many people who could recognize them both. No, I believe he’ll travel a few hours before stopping.”
“She’s right, Darce. We have the advantage as we will be on horseback.”
“What if you take the wrong route.” Lizzy cried out. “What if Sir Reginald takes a less traveled road?”
“Then he runs the risk of wasting too much time and I’ll be waiting for him at the border.” Darcy said with determination. “No, my love, I believe Slade will take the route that is fast and easy. Don’t forget. He thinks he has a ten-hour or more advantage on us.”
“I pray you are right, Fitz. I truly do.”
Soon, Lizzy bade them farewell as they mounted their horses and set off with grim determination toward Scotland, assuming Slade would make haste to Gretna Green, hoping no one would miss Georgiana until the next day.
They rode hard the first hour and then eased up for the next few so their horses would stay reasonably fresh and began checking the stables of all the inns situated near the main road. Neither of them gave voice to the despair that clutched their hearts.
After being in the saddle for almost three hours, they came upon the Waddling Duck and within the stable was a large gray carriage, with a mismatched wheel. Without saying a word, they handed their horses off to the sleepy stable hand and almost ran to the inn. Upon their entrance, loud voices and the sound of a scuffle filtered down from the second level.
Richard began to scout around the main floor while Darcy impatiently waited for the owner of the inn to appear. About to search the inn without permission from anyone, a portly man, wielding a club, rushed past him and headed toward the kitchen.
“I say, sir…” Darcy called out to no avail. He leaned over the counter and tried to peer into the kitchen, determined to catch the attention of the man when, if, he returned.
“Nothing down here,” Richard said as he returned to wait with Darcy. “Where is everyone?”
“That is what I am trying to determine−” The man with the club exited the kitchen area, his face a bright cherry red. Darcy didn’t know if it was from anger, ascertained by the death grip he had on the club, or from all the running about he’d been doing. Given the state of his body shape, Darcy was quite sure the man didn’t give over to too much exercise other than a good belly laugh.
“We are not accepting guests.” The man panted out.
