He inclined his head and left the room.
Mr. Wickham must be a hard drinker, she thought, for he now drank the brandy one glass after another, but appeared unaffected.
They remained thus until the butler returned with a tray of nuts and dried fruits, arranged in elegant bowls. He placed it upon the table.
“Thank you,” she said. This is very prettily set out. Pray serve Mr. Wickham. His glass is empty.”
The butler complied. The bottle was now almost half empty. She watched him down the drink and then, mercifully, he swayed as he leaned forward to set down his glass.
The butler’s eyes narrowed. Then his gaze passed over Mrs. Younge, who snored in her chair, and his brows lifted.
Georgiana rose and handed her glass to the butler. “You will excuse me, Mr. Wickham. I must step away to refresh myself,but I shall return directly, sir. Do try the dried fruit. It is the finest.”
She left the room, the butler following. He closed the door behind them, and Georgiana sagged against the wall, trembling.
“The blackguard has drugged the brandy. I exchanged my glass with his, and I trust he will soon be overcome as well. Do you think he has killed Mrs. Younge? She succumbed within a few minutes of drinking the substance.”
“I trust not, miss. Perhaps she will sleep it off.”
“If Mr. Wickham succumbs to the drug, you will have him secured and confined in one of the cellars. I must also send an express to Fitzwilliam. Do you place confidence in either of the footmen?”
“Christopher is my nephew, and the other footman is kin to the cook. They both understand the value of their positions and will keep silent.”
“Very well. Pray send for them, for I believe Mr. Wickham will soon be insensible.”
Georgiana sat at the desk in the housekeeper’s office with her head buried in her hands, weeping. Her entire body trembled, and she still felt sick to her stomach.
After several minutes, she straightened and began a letter to Fitzwilliam. It was ready when Grimes returned.
“Please send Christopher to deliver this to my brother.”
“Yes, mistress.”
In the end, the entire matter was accomplished with little difficulty. Wickham was locked in the kitchen cellar, while Mrs.Younge slept in her chamber with a footman standing watch outside her door. And Christopher had left immediately for London to deliver her note to Fitzwilliam.
“Miss Darcy, is there anything further I may do for you?”
“Sir, you have protected me from the wretched man, but I fear that I shall not be able to sleep tonight.”
“Pray do not distress yourself, Miss Darcy. Mr. Wickham is bound and locked in the cellar. All the doors are secured, and I expect your brother will arrive by early afternoon tomorrow.”
“Yes, of course. I shall go up now. Thank you, Grimes.”
The following morning, Georgiana lay in bed, praying Fitzwilliam would arrive by early afternoon and deal with Mr. Wickham.
When Jenny brought up two buckets of hot water, Georgiana asked, “Is Mr. Wickham still confined in the cellar?”
“Yes, miss. He was offered water an hour ago. He remains securely bound, so you need not fear his escape.”
“And Mrs. Younge? Has she taken her breakfast?”
“Your companion still sleeps.”
“She is still asleep? She should have woken by now.”
Georgiana sent the butler and housekeeper to check on Mrs. Younge, but she remained in the hall, fearing the worst.
A cry sounded from within. “Oh, Clarissa, what has befallen you?”
