Page 13 of The Long Road Back to Yesterday

By the time Doctor Edgerton arrived, she too had passed.

“I will send Mr. Hill to our uncle with a note asking him to deal with the cabinetmaker. We shall need two coffins. Mary, please write a note to Doctor Edgerton and ask him to come. Send Johnny to deliver it.”

“Yes, Jane.” Mary sat down to write the note.

Lizzy wiped her eyes. “I will send another express to Uncle Edward asking him to hire a man to search for Lydia.”

Chapter 6: Designs

Lydia woke to a sharp pain in her arm. She moved her shoulder and moaned. Opening her eyes, she saw Lieutenant Wickham seated opposite her, pressing a bloodstained cloth against his arm.

They were riding in a hired chaise, paid for with Papa's money.

Memory returned in a rush. Wickham had shot Papa in the chest. He had killed him.

Tears welled in her eyes.

“Shut your mouth, girl. I will hear no more from you. Be silent, unless you wish to be slapped.”

Lydia stifled her sobs and wondered what had become of the charming gentleman she had thought she knew. This Wickham was cruel and violent.

She sat huddled in the corner of the chaise for what she guessed to be two hours before they entered London. The cobbled streets caused the old vehicle to lurch and jolt. At last, they drew up before a three-story brick house in a part of the city she had never seen. The buildings were dilapidated, the women and children unkempt, and the men looked dirty and vicious.

Wickham stepped down and offered his hand to help her out. Lydia ignored the offered hand and descended without his assistance.

She followed him into the house, where they were escorted to a room just off the entrance hall. Before the door closed behind her, she caught sight of several scantily dressed girls and women lingering in the hall and upon the staircase.

An elegantly dressed woman gestured to a chair, and Lydia sat. She watched in silence as the lady handed Mr. Wickham a thick wad of pound notes. Without so much as a glance in Lydia's direction or a word of farewell, he left the room.

Lydia remained seated, her eyes fixed upon the woman as the door shut behind him.

The elegantly dressed woman circled Lydia slowly. She reached out and ran her fingers through her golden hair. When she had finished her inspection, she smiled. “You are a pretty little thing. I know exactly who will pay handsomely for you.”

Lydia knew then that her life had changed forever, and silent tears slid down her cheeks.

* * *

Wickham left the building and walked to the boarding house he patronized when in London. The business had been accomplished with remarkable ease. If his plans for Georgiana did not succeed, he might make his fortune procuring young women. When he entered the house, Mrs. Younge regarded him with alarm.

“Why, George, whatever has happened to you? You are bleeding.”

“Mrs. Younge, I had an unfortunate encounter with footpads. Shots were fired, but fortunately, I was only grazed.”

“Come into the kitchen, and I shall clean and bandage it for you.”

As Mrs. Younge washed the wound and bound his arm, Clarissa entered the room.

“Why, George, I thought you were stationed in Hertfordshire until the spring. Are you no longer with the militia?”

“Good afternoon, Miss Younge. I must admit the militia was not a good fit for me. The pay is miserable, and the work is exceedingly tedious. I have left to seek my fortune.”

“And what have you in mind?”

“I have been watching the advertisements. There is a position as a footman that I intend to pursue, but I also came across an advertisement for a companion to a fifteen-year-old girl, a Miss Darcy. I thought you might be interested. I know the family. She is the daughter of my godfather. The salary is generous, one hundred pounds per annum, paid quarterly.”

Miss Younge came farther into the room and took a seat at the kitchen table.

“Do you have the advertisement with you?”