Page 27 of Georgiana
“I do not require a room. I’m searching for a young woman. A lady. Tall, light colored hair−”
The man hefted the club and made like he was about to strike Darcy. “Are you in on this as well? My inn is not a bordello, where women are bought and sold!”
“What!” Richard blurted out. “What are you saying man? We’re here to rescue her!”
“Who are you?” The man didn’t budge an inch, glaring at each of them in turn. Behind him, a young girl who looked very much like the inn keeper, slid by. She carried a bucket of hot water and an armful of cloths. Darcy’s heart plummeted to his feet.
“We are family. Where is she?” Darcy managed to grind out.
The man assessed the Colonel and Darcy. He gave a quick nod, then said, “Follow me.”
They trailed him up the narrow stairs, nearly running into his back when he stopped at a room where the door had been kicked in.
“You get your smarmy arse back into that room, or I’ll make sure you stay down for a few days,” the man snarled.
“I shall call the magistrate!”
Darcy recognized Sir Reginald’s voice immediately. He stepped behind the innkeeper and glanced into the room. What he saw sickened him. Slade’s face lost all its color when he spied who towered behind the portly man.
“Where is my sister?” The icy tone in Darcy’s voice shocked even himself. He never thought of himself as a violent man, but given time and no witnesses, God Himself only knew what he would do to the man standing amongst strewn bedding.
The innkeeper gave him a surprised look before turning his attention back to Sir Reginald. Slade slid to the floor, next to the bed which was clearly ruined and lowered his head into his hands. The very thought of Slade attacking his sister in such a forceful manner as to break the bed made him want to cast up his accounts. With dread resolve, he determined if that were the case, Slade would not see the light of another day.
“She’s on the next floor, second door on the left,” the innkeeper said, maintaining his vigil of Slade. “The Duke of Adborough took her to his room. One of his men is supposed to guard this vile blackguard.”
“Adborough!”
Richard and Darcy exchanged glances.
“You go, Darce. I’ll stay and keep good old Reggie company until reinforcements arrive.”
Richard advanced into the room and Sir Reginald scuttled on his backside into a corner and cringed. Without so much as a backward glance at the coward who may have ruined his sister forever, Darcy sped up the stairs and charged into Max’s room. In one sweeping glance he saw the young girl from downstairs gently applying salve to a large cut on his beloved sister’s leg. Georgiana, a blanket draped about her shoulders, clung to Max, weeping into his shoulder.
Chapter Eight
The return to Darcy house remained a bit of a blur to Georgiana. Richard insisted on lacing her tea with small amounts of laudanum to help ease the pain incurred from the injury her leg along with the bruising on them and her back. For the next few days she stayed either in her rooms, or joined Lizzy in the family’s private drawing room on the second floor. Although her memory was murky, before leaving the inn she recalled a conversation between her brother and cousin and knew they were deeply indebted to the innkeeper’s daughter for her skillful ministrations.
“Georgie hasn’t sustained life altering injuries, Darce.” Richard had said. “The wound, though deep, will heal given time. Mr. Barrow’s daughter certainly has the hands of a healer. I doubt your physician could do any better. Besides, the fewer who know of this debacle, the better.”
“Yes, I know,” Fitz had acquiesced. “Would that I could take this from her.”
Her poor brother. How many times must he rescue her from men with nothing but darkness in their hearts? Deep in thought, seated next to Lizzy, Georgiana gazed out the window. Thank goodness for Maxwell. If he hadn’t come along when he did… She shuddered.
“Are you well, Georgiana?”
Lizzy’s gentle query shook her out of her morose thoughts.
“I was but thinking of His Grace and how thankful I am he was there to… there to…”
Lizzy reached out and covered Georgiana’s hand with hers. “He saved you and for that we are eternally grateful.” She picked up her piece of embroidery. “Fitz told me the Duke has requested a meeting today.”
“Oh…” Georgiana smoothed the blanket covering the lower part of her body with trembling hands. She hadn’t spoken with Max since that dreadful night. How much of her body had been revealed in the struggle with Sir Reginald? Almost as soon as Sir Reginald carried her into the room at the inn, he’d dumped her on the bed and ripped her nightgown in an attempt to grab her breast while removing his breeches. In her desperation to evade, she hadn’t cared about her state of undress. She’d twisted and squirmed to no avail, and then, remembering something Richard told her after the incident with Wickham, she’d kicked Sir Reginald between the legs. Her only thought had been to stop the attack, never once thinking he’d retaliate with such fury. She remembered each stinging blow and how helpless she’d felt as she kicked against the maniacal grip on her ankle.
Fitz and Richard both assured her Sir Reginald would never bother her again. Although they’d not told her what transpired, she believed strongly Sir Reginald had been given no option other than deportation. She need not live in fear anymore.
She raised her gaze to Lizzy’s and smiled. “I do hope the Duke stays for tea.”
“Darling Georgiana, if he were able, I believe he would, but you are not receiving visitors until tomorrow. I’m sure we can expect him to stop by again.”
