by Violet King
Mr. Darcy pulled the rings off, one by one.
“Now, if you are satisfied, time is short. There are guards in the boxes, but as soon as the Regent begins to mingle with the crowd, which he will even with his twisted ankle as our prince loves a party, he will be vulnerable. We cannot trust anyone.”
“Mr. Smith has a ring with a poison needle inside,” Elizabeth told him. “He will have to get close.”
“It is unfortunate my brother has snatched you up, Miss Bennet, else I would certainly begin a courtship.” With that, Mr. Reginald Darcy twisted his wrist with a sudden jerk, and Elizabeth lost her grip. Tapping two fingers to the side of his temple in a mock wave, he bowed and slipped into the flow of masked revelers making their way towards the stage.
30
Reginald, alive. And Miss Elizabeth…
A painful longing burst out of Darcy’s every pore. Was this love? Mr. Darcy had never given much thought to love beyond the familial, which he was obligated to protect. Mr. Bingley stepped in and out of love like dipping buff naked into a series of cool ponds in the dead of summer. Mr. Darcy had never felt the urge to stand naked in spirit before anyone. It was too risky, and Darcy abhorred unnecessary risks.
For the entirety of his life, Mr. Darcy had devoted himself to tempering the emotional fits of others, and now he was caught in one himself. He should have been relieved his brother was not a traitor to the crown. Instead, heart-clenching terror lingered. If Reginald had been the traitor he appeared, he could have killed Miss Elizabeth. Her observations, her jests, her quick wit and even her tempers, in a few moments, gone.
Reginald bowed and made his way towards the Regent, and Miss Elizabeth made to follow. How could she?
Though it was well outside the bounds of proper behavior, he grabbed her wrist. “No.”
“Unhand me!”
So Miss Elizabeth could throw herself into danger?
Mr. Darcy had made efforts all of his life to protect those he loved. He could not fail her. But he had already failed. He had covered for Mr. Wickham’s flaws to spare his father. Because of that, Georgiana had been blinded to Wickham’s faults with near-disastrous consequences.
Darcy had tried to protect Georgiana by hiding their brother’s “last words” and instead hidden from her the fact Reginald lived, and worse, hidden from this Lord Cunningham the plot they now faced. His own brother, stifled by Mr. Darcy’s admonitions towards proper behavior, had gone abroad and now was what—a spy for their own forces?
Miss Elizabeth struggled to escape his grasp.
All of Mr. Darcy’s efforts had driven those he loved further away. He could not make the same mistake with Miss Elizabeth. His admiration for her was far outside the bounds of propriety, and he was glad of it. He could not hide her away and pretend he was keeping her safe by doing so.
Mr. Darcy said, “Not without me. It is not proper, and that is not safe, but if you will have me, I will stand at your side.”
Miss Elizabeth stopped. It seemed all the tension went out of her and she looked back at him, her eyes wide. “You will?”
“Yes. Forever. If you will have me.”
“Is this a proposal?”
“I—” A proposal. In public. Mr. Darcy wondered how he could be so brave and so foolish. “Yes.”
A glorious smile blossomed over Miss Elizabeth’s face and Mr. Darcy could not breathe. The Regent, the ball, everything faded until there was only Miss Elizabeth Bennet. She said, “Ask me again.”
“Are you accepting?” She had to accept. If not, the shards of Mr. Darcy’s broken heart would slice him to pieces.
Miss Elizabeth said, “Of course I am accepting, but you must ask me twice.”
How could Mr. Darcy resist this wonderful, brilliant, and mad woman with whom, against all rationality, he had fallen in love?
“Will you be my wife?”
“Yes.”
To the devil with proper behavior. Mr. Darcy pulled her close, using his free hand to cradle the back of her head, and then, in full view of everyone, he kissed her.
Someone gasped.
Elizabeth pressed herself to his chest and the heat of her lips sent shivers through him. Now, she could not change her mind. Or demand a third proposal, which frankly, after the first two, he would not manage.
Applause rang out around them.
“Congratulations, Darcy.” It was Bragg, and when he clapped Mr. Darcy on the back as though they were brothers, Mr. Darcy couldn’t even find the will to slight him. “Good man! I knew you would not make a liar out of me! And you have caught his attention.”
Mr. Bragg gestured towards the stage, and a low murmur set up through the group surrounding them.
“A proposal!” The Regent’s voice, amplified by his placement on the stage and the shape of the amphitheater, carried out over the revelers.
“I said the Regent was a romantic,” Bragg whispered to Darcy. “I hope you listen when I send out a letter about this new project. It promises to make both you and your fiancée that much wealthier.”
Bragg was a gossip who had his thumb in every scheme, but as the others around them parted to allow Miss Elizabeth and Darcy a path towards the stage, he could not doubt Bragg had the right of this.
Miss Elizabeth clutched his arm, and Mr. Darcy felt her shaking. She held the mask up to her face again.
Mr. Darcy, wanting to reassure her, whispered, “It will be quick.”
Or at least so he hoped. Their plan had been to stop the assassin, if there was an assassin, but Mr. Darcy had not considered how getting close enough to protect the Regent might expose himself and Miss Elizabeth.
Mr. Darcy and Miss Elizabeth were presented to the Regent. She gave a profound curtsy, her gaze lowered and her knees nearly touching the floor in her genuflection. Mr. Darcy gave an equally low and respectful bow.
The Prince Regent was flanked on either side by four bodyguards, each soberly dressed with the only gestures to costume a half mask, much like Darcy’s, that covered their eyes.
“Your Royal Highness,” Elizabeth and Darcy said in unison.
The Regent was quite handsome, tall and fair-haired, though this close it was clear that fine tailoring and a tight corset hid a tendency towards fat. Mr. Darcy had seen older gentleman, and a few notorious rakes, employ the same obfuscations, though Darcy’s own father had turned his nose down on such tricks. “A regular habit of exercise and restraint from gluttony will earn the respect of your tenants and save you a fortune in tailoring,” Mr. Darcy’s father often advised.
Mr. Darcy’s father had not raised his son to be a fool however, and Darcy kept such admonitions to himself.
One of the bodyguards whispered in the Regent’s ear, and the Regent addressed them, “My felicitations, Mr. Darcy. Miss Bennet.”
“Thank you, your Royal Highness,” Miss Elizabeth said. Mr. Darcy had never heard her so subdued.
“I can see you are well suited to each other,” the Prince Regent said. Though the Regent’s breath smelled of wine, his expression was measured and his manner charming as he spoke. The Regent glanced down at his ankle. “I alas overstepped myself was it one...no...two weeks ago, showing off my Highland Fling...” He sighed, and said, “Mr. Darcy, Miss. Bennet, if you would do the honor of leading the next dance in my stead.”
“It would be my honor, your Royal Highness,” Mr. Darcy said.
“Yes, your Royal Highness,” Miss Elizabeth said, curtsying again. “Thank you.
Mr. Darcy held out his arm, and the musicians began warming up their instruments. Elizabeth smiled at Darcy, and then her face lost all color. Though there was a wide berth of space around the Regent, other partygoers were coming and going. Mr. Darcy noted his brother, still in jester costume, standing a few feet off, speaking with another man in an elaborate turban and mask.
One of the bodyguards moved.
Miss Elizabeth threw herself forward, appearing to trip on her skirt as she flailed her hands towards one of the bodyguards.
The guard wore a heavy, silver ring.
“Miss,” the Prince Regent swayed on his cane as he stepped towards Miss Elizabeth. That movement, along with Miss Elizabeth’s distraction, made the false bodyguard hesitate, and Reginald grabbed him. He slipped his arm around the bodyguard’s waist and did something to the guard’s wrist. The man grunted, and the ring fell. Before any of the other guards could hamper Reginald’s movements, he said something to them, and they closed around the Regent while Reginald led the false bodyguard way.
The entire thing happened so quickly, Mr. Darcy doubted anyone else besides himself and Miss Elizabeth had even noticed.
“Miss Elizabeth,” Mr. Darcy steadied his fiancée. She had adroitly regained her balance. “Thank you,” she murmured. “I am ashamed to be so clumsy.”
One of the other guards whispered something to the Regent, and the prince nodded. Had they told him of the attempt on his life? If so, the news did not affect the Regent’s good mood. He announced, “Mr. Darcy and Miss Bennet will lead us in the next dance.”
Mr. Darcy and Miss Elizabeth took their places at the center of the floor.
She rested her hand in his and said, “Your brother saved him.”
“You saved him.”
“It was us. We saved him.” The first bars of the minuet began, and Darcy and Elizabeth were swept up in the dance.
Epilogue
They left the King’s Theatre just before dawn. Elizabeth had danced until her feet hurt. As she and Mr. Darcy were engaged, she could now sit beside him in the carriage. She reveled in the warmth of his thigh against hers, and her heart fluttered as he smiled at her.
They were not fortunate enough to have the carriage to themselves. Lydia and Wickham sat across from her with Mrs. Hill between them, her eyes shut and head nodding to the side as the carriage rumbled through the streets.
“You are so lucky,” Lydia said. “To be honored by the Prince. And to have a proposal. To Mr. Darcy! I never guessed he would be so dashing! When Mr. Wickham asks for my hand, can you prevail upon the Prince to bless our union as well?”
Mr. Wickham said, “Let us not get ahead of ourselves, Miss Lydia.”
If only Mr. Wickham would disappear from Lydia’s life from this day. Elizabeth had no desire to call Wickham her brother. And though she and her sister were not close, Lydia did not deserve the pain a life married to Wickham would bring. She might not see past his fair hair and handsome features, but Elizabeth did.
Mr. Darcy squeezed Elizabeth’s hand. She glanced up at him, and he gave a brief nod. He had some plan for Wickham. Elizabeth closed her eyes, grateful to have him at her side.
Forever.
Lydia said, “Perhaps we can have a double wedding! Would that not be lovely, Mr. Wickham?”
“No,” Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth said at the same time.
Lydia looked hurt. Elizabeth, who despite everything loved her sister, said, “I do not wish for you to share your special day with me or anyone.”
“Yes, I suppose that is most sensible. After you practically collapsed on the Regent, I am certain he will not attend your wedding in any case.”
Elizabeth winced. No matter how hard she tried, she could only understand her sister but so well. Maybe Jane could persuade Lydia to set her infatuation with Wickham aside.
“I think Elizabeth comported herself most properly,” Mr. Darcy said. Elizabeth smiled at Mr. Darcy’s... Fitzwilliam’s... use of her given name.
Elizabeth had known she must marry, and she wished to marry for love, but she had always feared she must sacrifice one for the other. Now, somehow, she had found both.
Though she was breathless at the speed of things, Elizabeth’s new future thrilled her. She would have to tell her family, and prepare for a wedding, and there was still Chrysalide. Even if his assassin had been dispatched, as Reginald Darcy had said, Mr. Smith was but one of his butterflies. Chrysalide was still on their shores, a cocoon spawning further menace.
Elizabeth would have to find a way to continue with her father and his work. Her work. Their work. The threats to England would not end with her wedding.
Elizabeth could only pray Mr. Darcy understood that.
Alighting from the carriage at her uncle’s home, Elizabeth took Mr. Darcy’s arm.
“We must return to Longbourn tomorrow, so I may ask your father’s permission for your hand.”
“Do not look so nervous, Fitzwilliam,” Elizabeth said, trying out the sounds of her husband’s given name for the first time. “Once my parents have overcome their shock, they will both delight in welcoming you to our family. I should also like to meet your sister in person. And I pray your brother will return from the dead once more to attend our nuptials. It is the least he can do, as he is the one who brought us together.”
Mr. Darcy stopped in front of the Gardiners’ door. Lydia and Mrs. Hill had already entered the house. Wickham remained in the carriage.
Elizabeth, suddenly shy, turned to Mr. Darcy. She held the mask at her side. Mr. Darcy had removed his in the carriage, and they stood together without pretense.
“Thank you, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth said. “I had always wished to marry for love, but love was a cipher that seemed beyond me. You gave me the key. I could not understand at first, but you are what I was searching for.”
Mr. Darcy shook his head. “It is you, not I, who is key. I did not understand or believe in love, but you unlocked my heart. I am the luckiest man in all of England.”
He placed his hand over hers and together, as the sun rose through the London fog, they kissed.
The End.
Thank you for reading! I hope you loved reading this book as much as I loved writing it!
If so, I hope you keep your eye out for next book in this series will be titled Mr. Darcy’s Enigma. Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy plan their wedding in the midst of family opposition and espionage. It’s going to be a wild ride! You can get notified of when Mr. Darcy’s Enigma is out and also get access to free chapters of the book when you sign up for my newsletter at violetkingauthor.com.
Also, if you have a moment to leave a review on this book, that would be an amazing gift. We all read reviews when deciding whether to give a new author a try. Just a sentence or two letting others know how you felt about the book makes a huge difference for whether authors like me can keep writing books. So if you have 2-3 minutes, drop over to wherever you bought this book and let people know what you think of it.
Lastly, if you are interested in learning more about the resources I used to bring this book to life, check out the author’s note in the next chapter.
All the best,
Violet
Author’s Note
Mr. Darcy’s Cipher was born from the words, “Spies and Prejudice,” and from there, I knew I had to write this series.
Much of this book came down to the question: ‘how do you write a character who is smarter than you?’
Miss Elizabeth Bennet is much smarter than Ms. Violet King. To write her brilliance, I had to learn A LOT about codes and even attempt a “new to me” form of math to give Miss Bennet the tools she needed to crack the codes and save the Prince Regent.
If you are interested in learning more about the Affine Cipher what’s the heck is going on with that triple equals sign, here are some resources on ciphers and modular math, both of which I had to figure out well enough to explain in this book.
Modular Math via the Khan Academy: https://www.khanacademy.org/computing/computer-science/cryptography/modarithmetic/a/what-is-modular-arithmetic
And when that breaks your brain, check out the Wikipedia article: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Modular_arithmetic
In addition, it would have been impossible for me to write this book without the amazing, free code cracking resource at https://www.dcode.fr/tools-list#substitution_cipher.
This is a French website but they have an English translated version (which I pointed you to), thank heavens! With the tools on this site, yo
u can create and crack codes without breaking your own brain against them. As someone who is actually pretty terrible at puzzles and puns, I found this resource invaluable both for trying out new codes and also as a jumping off point for more research.
Besides codes and ciphers, for this book, I also spent serious time researching British and French spy craft in the Napoleonic Wars.
Friends and Enemies: The Underground War between Great Britain and France, 1793-1802 - Chapter One – Aims, Acquisition, Analysis and Action: https://www.napoleon-series.org/research/government/british/Espionage/c_espionageChapter1.html
English Secret Agents and Sprawling Continental Espionage--Not 007, but 1812: An interview with historical fiction author M.M. Bennetts http://riftwatcher.blogspot.com/2011/12/english-secret-agents-and-sprawling.html
Unfortunately, one of the other sites I bookmarked on this subject appears to have lost their web hosting, but these are good places to start looking if you’re interested in learning more on the topic.
The main thing I gained from this research is that, especially on the British side, espionage was a scattered process. The British Army, Navy and Prime Minister’s office all had their own spies. These offices did not communicate well (or often at all) with each other. This gave me plenty of room to take liberties regarding Mr. Bennet’s contacts, and of course, Mr. Smith and Chrysalides are pure figments of my imagination.
In addition to the espionage, I discovered some nifty historical events that were woven into my imagined storyline. For example, I based the Regent’s ball off of a real costume ball that took place in the King’s Theatre where the Prince Regent attended.
You can read more about this event and costumed Regency Balls at 18th Century Masquerade Balls: https://georgianera.wordpress.com/2015/03/19/18th-century-masquerade-balls/
In addition, in November 1811, the Prince Regent did sprain his ankle while demonstrating his Highland Fling.