Conceit & Concealment: A Pride & Prejudice Variation

  What was she thinking? It was comforting to believe she could go home, but she had been fooling herself. The damage was already done. Even if Mr. Darcy revealed nothing about Georgiana's identity, Elizabeth would have no acceptable explanation for her absence. Everyone would assume the worst. She would be ruined, a burden to her family and an even easier target for Captain Reynard. She would have no choice but to flee to Scotland immediately, leaving her family to once again suffer through losing her.

  And if Mr. Darcy had been forced to talk, the French would be waiting to pounce on her as soon as she appeared. They would leave no stone unturned in their efforts to find Georgiana. No, her family was lost to her. The best she could hope for was to someday get a message to Jane to tell her she was alive and well. Poor Jane would be even lonelier and more isolated now. Would anyone trouble to bring her tea? What would happen to her if Captain Reynard forced the family out of Longbourn entirely?

  If she kept thinking about her family, she was going to burst into tears. Perhaps she should consider her future instead. Scotland was still the obvious choice since so many English Loyalists had formed their own community there. It was what she had always pictured doing if she ran off. But she knew no one in Scotland and would be all alone there with no family, friends or status.

  But none of that needed to be resolved now. Tonight all she had to decide was the plan for tomorrow's journey to Oxford.

  ***

  Unsurprisingly, Georgiana asked Elizabeth to share her room that night. It was even less of a surprise when Elizabeth was awakened in the night by the sound of muffled sobs. She took the girl into her arms as if she had been one of her sisters, feeling close to tears herself.

  “All will be well, you will see,” she told Georgiana. “Tomorrow night you will be safe in the hands of someone you can trust.”

  “Will you stay with me? At least for a while? Otherwise I will be with a total stranger.” Another sob shook her.

  “If you like, I will be happy to stay with you.” Could remaining with Georgiana be an alternative to Scotland? Even if Mr. Darcy should return – she could not bear to think of it as only a possibility or the tears would begin to flow – Elizabeth could make the argument that Georgiana desperately needed a female influence in her life. Elizabeth could be her companion and thus be of service to England at the same time. It would be risky, of course, but going to Scotland would be dangerous, too. If she changed her name, no one would know that Georgiana’s companion had once been Elizabeth Bennet.

  Georgiana swallowed another sob. “But you will leave, too. Everyone leaves. William was the only one who stayed, and now even he is gone.”

  “We do not know that. His friend in London may be able to have him released, at least if they have not discovered about you.”

  “I... I have never been apart from William this long before.” The girl dissolved anew into heartbroken sobs.

  Mr. Darcy must have been a very devoted guardian indeed if he had never spent a night apart from her in six years! “It is not the same, but I am here with you, and I will not abandon you.”

  “Not now, but someday you will.” The girl’s despair seemed to overwhelm her.

  “Perhaps someday you will no longer feel a need to have me stay with you, but if you do need me, I will stay, unless...” She had been about to say unless she fell in love and married. The image of dark, intent eyes rose in her memory. She had to blink hard to keep back the tears.

  Georgiana froze. “Unless?”

  Thinking quickly, Elizabeth said, “Unless I have the opportunity to travel to Africa to see the elephants. I have a great desire to see elephants. And the tigers in India, but I suppose I could take you with me to India since it is more civilized. I would dearly love to see the kangaroos in Australia, but it is such a lawless place I think I shall have to survive without them. A pity, though, since I simply cannot imagine how an animal that large can possibly hop. But apart from the elephants in Africa and the tigers in India, you may depend upon me.”

  The girl giggled. “There are elephants in India, too. You could even ride one of them in a canopy chair. I have seen pictures in books.”

  “That would simplify matters,” said Elizabeth with mock seriousness. “Africa is a very large place, after all. In India we could purchase dozens of those beautiful shawls, and be the envy of everyone we know when we return.”

  “Oh, yes! And some of those lovely jeweled silks, too.”

  “Perhaps we could disguise ourselves and go down to one of the native markets to find the best silks. We would have to darken our faces, of course, or everyone would know we were foreigners. They must have the most amazing fruit there, things we have never tasted, more exotic than even a pineapple.” Elizabeth continued to spin the tale until her silliness distracted Georgiana enough that she fell asleep. But Elizabeth lay awake much longer, wondering what the mysterious man in Oxford would be like and how he would respond to taking in Elizabeth as well as Georgiana.

  She could not bear to think of the man she had left behind.

  ***

  “How is Mr. Tennant of Pennington Hall to know who you are?” asked Elizabeth as they neared Oxford.

  “I am supposed to tell him I have a package from the governor of Jamaica.”

  “Jamaica? How does Jamaica come into it?”

  Georgiana shrugged. “I do not know, but that is what I am to say.”

  “I thought no one knew you were in England. Is Mr. Tennant aware you are here?”

  Georgiana's brow furrowed. “I do not believe so. William would not have agreed to let anyone into that secret. Even the government-in-exile believes I am in Canada.”

  “It is possible Mr. Tennant may be inclined to be dubious.”

  “Why? You seemed to have no trouble believing it.”

  Elizabeth hesitated. It was a good point. Why had she immediately believed Darcy when he told her the implausible tale about his sister being the heir to the throne? Well, she had known him, at least to some degree, and generally trusted him – except when it concerned the French. More importantly, the story made sense of several things which had puzzled her. But perhaps the most convincing point had been the intensity of his concern for Georgiana when he was the one about to be arrested and quite possibly executed.

  Mr. Tennant of Pennington Hall would have none of these advantages when two strangers appeared on his doorstep. How were they to convince him? What if he did not believe them? For that matter, what were they to do if he was away? He might be in London.

  She was still pondering that question as they approached Pennington Hall, having received directions at a nearby inn. The gatehouse was not difficult to spot along the country lane. Georgiana reined in the horses at the wrought iron gates and called for the gatekeeper.

  The man who stepped out of the gatehouse wore a French uniform.

  Georgiana, in her disguise as George, rose to the occasion. Pitching her voice in its lower ranges, she said, “We are travelers who thought to call on Mr. Tennant. Is he no longer here?” At the guard’s blank look, she repeated the question in French.

  The soldier shook his head. “No more.”

  “Do you know where we might find him?”

  The soldier grinned, showing blackened and missing teeth. “Chez Madame Guillotine.” And in case they might have misunderstood this, he drew the back of his thumb across his throat.

  Chapter 6

  Darcy forced himself not to look back at Elizabeth as the soldiers marched him away. It would accomplish nothing and would undercut his efforts to make his arrest seem no more than a laughable error. Instead he pretended to joke with the soldiers about Wickham’s bad habit of failing to pay his gambling debts. A few of them began to look uneasy, no doubt recalling how much Wickham owed each of them, money they would now never see.

  But behind the amused façade his mind was racing. Had Elizabeth believed him? If there had only been more time, he would have offered more explanation than the basic facts.
It must have sounded ridiculous. She had seemed to accept his story at the time, but now she must be questioning it. Could he truly expect her to abandon her family and everyone she knew for a mad story with no proof? What sensible person would risk so much on trust? And she had never trusted him because of his history with the French.

  But perhaps she would still do something. Even if she simply took Georgiana to stay with her sister in the Longbourn stables, that would be safer than leaving her at Netherfield. Still, he knew about those stables, and anything he knew could be extracted.

  But what if this arrest really was for Wickham's murder? As soon as he had realized the soldiers were coming for him, he had assumed they had discovered his true crimes against the French. Since he had not committed any other crimes, it never occurred to him it might be for something completely different. Perhaps the murder charge was simply a cover for putting him to the question for other suspicions they might have.

  He should have asked Elizabeth to send word to General Desmarais. If Demarais knew about his arrest and it truly was for Wickham’s murder, Darcy could expect to be released within hours. Without Desmarais's help, his situation could become desperate.

  It was up to Darcy to save himself. He stepped up beside the officer who had laughed at his joke earlier. “Lieutenant,” Darcy said in quiet French, “A man who sent word of my arrest to General Desmarais in London could expect to be well rewarded.”

  The lieutenant straightened. “You know General Desmarais?” At Darcy’s nod, he added, “Just the facts of your arrest?”

  “Just the facts. It is not a secret, is it? But he would be most unhappy if he were not informed. You could write to his aide-de-camp, Colonel Hulot, at Carlton House.” Seeing the lieutenant hesitate, Darcy added, “It might be worth a transfer to another unit. I have already written to the general to inform him of your captain’s interesting disciplinary practices.” No need to say his letter had been more about the captain’s behavior towards Jane Bennet.

  The lieutenant’s eyebrows shot up. “Merci bien, Monsieur. I see I will need to attend to my correspondence tonight.”

  “A fine idea.” It was a double relief. First, that the lieutenant would write for assistance, but more importantly, he would have shown more concern if Darcy’s arrest was also for suspicious activities.

  Apparently Darcy's status as a gentleman still made a difference, for when they reached the town hall, he was taken to a spartan room with a door that locked rather than a gaol cell. The waiting guard said, “His hands must be tied.” He pulled out a rope and yanked Darcy's arms behind his back.

  Darcy's new friend the lieutenant stepped forward. “I will handle that.” He took the rope and gestured to Darcy to put his hands in front of him. When Darcy obeyed, the lieutenant looped the rope around them so loosely it would take little effort to extricate himself.

  “I have one question,” said Darcy. “Why do you think I killed George Wickham?”

  The lieutenant gave a Gallic shrug. “He said if anything happened to him, it would be because of you.”

  “Is that all?” Darcy asked in disbelief.

  With a gap-toothed grin, the lieutenant said, “That, and the captain, he does not like you. Something about a girl, of course.” He winked at Darcy before he left.

  Now all he could do was to wait and worry – and remember the pleasure of kissing Elizabeth Bennet. Would he ever have the opportunity to do so again?

  ***

  Elizabeth stared at the French soldier. Mr. Tennant of Pennington Hall had been executed? What were they to do now? “What a pity!” she said quickly. “Mama will be sad to hear it. Come, brother, in that case we must be on our way.”

  “Oh! Yes.” With a quick twist of the reins, Georgiana turned the curricle in the narrow lane.

  “Non! Attendez!” shouted the guard.

  Elizabeth hissed to Georgiana, “Go!”

  The guard made a grab for the bridle of the nearest horse, but the pair was already moving at a quick trot. He was still shouting in French as they rounded a curve that took them out of sight.

  “Do you think we are safe?” Georgiana asked.

  “I do not know.” Elizabeth turned to watch the lane behind them.

  They were nearly to the main road when she spotted a cloud of dust behind them. It was horses, several of them. “They are coming!”

  Georgiana paled. “Hold on tight! I will try to outdistance them.”

  Elizabeth grasped the bar in front of her with both hands as the horses took off at a canter. The curricle bounced over a surface not designed to be taken at such speed and tipped precariously as Georgiana took the turn onto the main road. “They will have seen which direction we turned!” Elizabeth shouted over the wind.

  “No matter. If they are on ordinary horses, we will be able to outrun them, at least for a time.” Georgiana's eyes were glowing.

  “Be careful! There is a barouche ahead!” And they were gaining on it at a frighteningly rapid pace.

  Georgiana did not slow the horses. Was she out of her mind? Then Elizabeth saw her intent expression. Surely she was not planning to pass it on this narrow road?

  Just as Elizabeth braced herself for an imminent crash with the barouche, Georgiana turned the horses. She was going to try to pass! If anyone was coming the other direction, there would be no way to avoid a disastrous collision. Elizabeth squeezed her eyes shut.

  Nothing happened. The curricle kept speeding along. Georgiana had won her gamble.

  “They will not be able to see what we do with the barouche between us.” Georgiana had to speak loudly to be heard over the rushing wind.

  Elizabeth only hoped to live to see the next village.

  The horses could not maintain that pace for long. As they began to tire, Elizabeth searched the road ahead. Placing her hand on Georgiana's arm, she pointed to a long barn up ahead. “If we could get behind that barn, we might be able to hide as they go past.”

  Her companion nodded. She waited until the last moment to slow the horses. The curricle tipped again as they turned in at the barn. Fortunately the yard was paved, with a track continuing beyond it. Georgiana pulled the curricle into the tall grass behind the barn.

  As soon as it stopped moving, Elizabeth jumped out and scuffed the grass which had been bent by their passage. It would be impossible to completely disguise where it had been crushed by the wheels, but she managed to cover their tracks fairly well. Her heart pounded. If this did not work, if the French caught them here...

  Across the paved yard an older woman with a broom stepped out from a cottage. Cold sweat pricked at Elizabeth’s neck. Had she seen their arrival? Elizabeth held her breath as the stoop-backed woman hobbled slowly toward the road and began sweeping dust from the paved yard.

  Elizabeth dared to breathe again. The woman was covering their tracks! Had she guessed the French were after them and decided to help them?

  But now they had bigger concerns. She hurried to Georgiana who was holding the bridle of one of the horses and whispering to it.

  “Georgiana, you must hide. If they stop to look here, they must not find you.”

  “But they will arrest you! What would I do without you?”

  “You would find someone else to help you. You are far more capable than you think. Here, take this money. As long as you have that, you will manage somehow. Now hide!”

  “But —”

  The old woman hobbled around the corner of the barn. “Those Frenchies just rode past without a second glance. You’re running from them, aren't you?”

  “Yes, we are,” said Elizabeth. “They will likely come back this way later when they give up on catching us. May we remain here until then?”

  “Of course, dearie. Stay as long as you like. I wouldn't turn over my worst enemy to those cursed Frenchies!”

  “I thank you, again and again. In truth, we have done nothing wrong. Our only crime was to ask them the wrong question.”

  “All Frenchies are moon ma
d, dearie, and there's no accounting for any of them. You just rest here.”

  Elizabeth took a deep breath. “May I ask one favor? It is very important to keep my friend out of their hands. I am not important, but she is. Is there somewhere she could be hidden?”

  The woman's eyebrow flew up. “She?” She looked up and down at Georgiana's male attire.

  Bother! She had slipped up already. It was too late to cover her mistake. “Yes, she is in disguise,” she said ruefully.

  “Well, then! You come into the house with me, young man or young lady, whichever you are, and you can keep watch out the window. If you see hide or hair of those Frenchies, we’ll pop you into the root cellar. No one would ever think to look there.”

  “The horses need to cool down,” said Georgiana. “Can you take care of that, Elizabeth?”

  Elizabeth had no idea how to cool down horses. “Of course I can.” She watched Georgiana's retreating back and sank down onto the ground until her pulse returned to something close to normal. It did not happen quickly.

  ***

  The sun was growing low in the sky when the old woman came behind the barn again. “They've gone past again, so all should be well. You must come inside and share some bread before you go. No need to travel on an empty belly!” she said to Elizabeth.

  Stiff from the long wait, Elizabeth gratefully followed her into the sparsely furnished cottage. Georgiana was perched on a stool, listening intently to a gnarled old man with tufts of white hair standing out from the sides of his head.

  The woman said, “Here is your friend, safe and sound! She went into the root cellar when the Frenchies rode past, but they never stopped.”