With the Colonel's Help by Leenie Brown

Author:Leenie Brown [Brown, Leenie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Leenie B Books

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The Solitary Reaper by William Wordsworth ↵

My Heart is in the Highlands by Robert Burns ↵

Chapter 7

Lydia did not wake when Colonel Fitzwilliam lifted her from Elizabeth’s arms, nor did she wake when she was settled into the carriage beside her sister. In fact, for the remaining forty-five minutes of the journey to London and then through the streets to Gracechurch Street, she did not wake — not even when a pause was made to send a footman in search of Darcy’s physician.

Lydia simply would not wake.

In fact, Lydia had still not woken when Darcy and Richard left the Gardeners’ home some two hours after arriving. The physician had come and gone. Mr. Bennet, who had arrived with Sir William, had been advised of what had happened. Tea and brandy had been shared as well as tales of Wickham’s previous treachery.

Darcy paced the length of the passageway at Darcy House. Thankfully, his sister was with their aunt, the Countess of Matlock. He would not have been able to see her and hide his agony. Miss Lydia lay lifeless in bed, watched over by her relatives, and he was to blame.

If only he had he spoken to anyone of Wickham. If only he had at least told Sir William of Wickham’s penchant for gambling and seducing young maids. He shook his head, leaned heavily on the wall next to Richard’s bedroom door, and covered his face with his hands. His hope was gone. Elizabeth would never be his.

“You look like the devil, Darcy,” said Richard as he approached him.

Richard had gone out to visit a few friends, whom he thought might be of use in ferreting out if Wickham were away from his unit with or without permission. From the way his cousin was grinning, Darcy guessed it was likely that Wickham had not been granted permission to leave Hertfordshire.

Richard opened the door to his room and motioned for Darcy to enter before him. “Wickham is in town. He was spotted at a gaming hell tonight, foxed beyond reason, as is the regular habit of one such as Wickham.”

Richard shrugged out of his coat, tossed it on his bed and then sat down to remove his boots. “A hand, Darcy.”

He had not yet called his batman for assistance. There were particulars that needed to be discussed without the audience of even such a trusted and loyal man as Mr. Chase.

Between the two of them, Richard was soon free of his shoes and stockings and was working on removing the rest of his things as he continued his report on Wickham. “It is said he has debts in Meryton, as well as here in town, and not enough coin to pay. He is in serious trouble.” Richard smirked. “My guess is he will make a run for some obscure location as soon as he sobers.”

Darcy nodded. It did not matter where Wickham ran, he had done what he needed to ensure Darcy’s misery.

“He’ll sober in the room of one of my friends.

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