Pledged to Mr Darcy

by Valerie Lennox

  After all this time, her marriage would be sealed at last. They would come together the way man and wife were meant to, and there would be kissing. Elizabeth wanted much, much more kissing.

  If Georgiana and Lydia seemed delighted at the news that Elizabeth was going to bed so early, she didn’t notice. Miss Thackerey was already in bed, having been ill all day.

  Instead, she left the two girls to their own devices, and hurried up the steps as quickly as she could. When she reached Mr. Darcy’s bedroom, the door was slightly ajar. She had not gone to her maid to have herself dressed for bed. She could not do it. It was too embarrassing. Martha would know what she intended to do with Mr. Darcy, and she would not be able to bear that.

  Elizabeth was certain that between herself and Mr. Darcy, they could figure out how to get her clothing off.

  She hesitated outside the almost-open door. Was it open as an invitation? Should she knock?

  Then there was a voice from behind her. “Mrs. Darcy.”

  She turned.

  It was Mr. Darcy. His voice was dark and soft. “You got here before me. Are you eager for this?”

  She only nodded. She was having trouble breathing.

  He caught her around the waist. “As am I,” he rasped, and then he was kissing her again.

  The kiss swept her away, as though she was a feather caught by a gust of wild, warm wind that would blow her through springtime air. She clung to him, lost and happy.

  He kicked open the door to the bedroom, and they tumbled inside.

  * * *

  “And you’re sure this is all right with the master?” said one of the stable hands, eyeing Lydia and Georgiana in their finery.

  “Of course,” said Lydia, giggling. “Would we lie to you about it, sir? Why, upon my word!” She fluttered a hand at her chest. It was too early to go to the ball, but it was best they get out of the house as soon as possible. They would instruct the driver to drive them around the city for a while, and then the time should be right. They were dining later here than they had in the country, after all, so it was not dreadfully early.

  “I didn’t mean to suggest nothing,” said the stable hand, eyes averted now. “I wouldn’t have said that about you, especially not about Miss Darcy, who I have known since she was just an itty bitty child.”

  Georgiana smiled at him encouragingly. “We will be quite safe. We are meeting other friends at our destination. My brother insisted that we do so since the two of us are alone.”

  The stable hand nodded. “Yes, of course. Only proper that way. Two young ladies alone in London, it’s not safe.”

  “We will scarce be alone for any time at all,” said Lydia. “Don’t worry.” She turned to Georgiana. “However, it is so impressive that your servants are so concerned with your welfare. It is a testament to the character of both you and your brother.”

  “And their parents, God rest their souls,” said the stable hand. “Always been proud to serve the Darcy family, I have.”

  “And a wonderful asset you must be to them as well,” said Lydia. “Thank you so much.”

  “Yes, thank you,” said Georgiana. But she was beginning to feel a twinge of guilt about all of this. When she and Lydia were safe in the carriage, and they were alone, she turned to her friend and said in a quiet voice, “I’m not sure about this.”

  But Lydia would hear none of it. They were on a great adventure, and she wasn’t about to let anything stand in their way.

  * * *

  Mr. Darcy panted, resting his forehead against hers. “Forgive me, madam.”

  “Forgive you? Whatever for?” Elizabeth was feeling bold, and she had twined her hand around his neck and was running her fingers through his hair. They had been kissing for what felt like a very long time. They were on Mr. Darcy’s bed, both still fully clothed, but her lips felt almost bruised, and her whole body was warm and cold and loose and taut at the same time. It should have been uncomfortable, but it was wondrous.

  “I am endeavoring to go slowly,” said Mr. Darcy carefully. “I do not wish to cause you undue discomfort.”

  “There is no discomfort.” And she joined their lips again.

  Mr. Darcy kissed her back with ardor.

  They kissed again for a long time. Elizabeth felt as though she was swimming in goodness. Everything was bursting joy. She had never felt so good in her entire existence.

  “The truth is,” gasped Mr. Darcy, between kisses, “I am plagued by the awful desire to do this with haste.”

  “Mmm,” said Elizabeth.

  “Because,” he breathed, “you cannot possibly imagine how badly I want you right now, Elizabeth.”

  Ah! He had called her by her first name. She liked it. “I want you too. Badly, as well.”

  He groaned.

  “Fitzwilliam,” she whispered tentatively.

  He growled. Now he pulled her into a seated position and he worked at the buttons on the back of her gown.

  She let out a little breath of happy surprise.

  He tugged the dress forward, revealing her stays and chemise beneath. His gaze crept hungrily over her body.

  Emboldened, she began untying his cravat.

  He kissed her again.

  The kissing slowed down their attempts to undress the other.

  And then there was a knock at the door.

  They both froze.

  “Mr. Darcy!” called the voice of Miss Thackerey from without. “Mr. Darcy, are you in there?”

  Mr. Darcy cleared his throat. “Miss Thackerey?”

  The door knob rattled. “Oh, I’m sorry to come to you, but I can’t find Mrs. Darcy, and it’s important. It’s dire!”

  “Dire?” Mr. Darcy was up and retying his cravat.

  Elizabeth pulled her dress up over her arms, but she could not reach the buttons herself.

  Mr. Darcy yanked open the door. “What’s going on?”

  “It’s Miss Darcy and Miss Bennet,” said Miss Thackerey. “I went to check on them, and they’re gone. One of the servants tells me that they took the carriage.”

  “What?” Elizabeth was across the room now, standing next to Mr. Darcy.

  Miss Thackerey took Elizabeth in. Her dress was falling off one shoulder. Miss Thackerey reddened. “I’m so, so sorry to disturb—”

  “The carriage?” said Mr. Darcy. “How could they take the carriage?”

  Elizabeth pulled her dress up over her shoulder.

  Mr. Darcy turned her and began to deftly do up her buttons. “When I find the servants who released a carriage to two young ladies on their own, I shall dismiss them all!”

  “Oh, please, sir,” said Elizabeth. “If Lydia had a hand in it, they likely had no notion they were doing anything wrong. She is a schemer. She was sent to stay with us in Pemberley precisely because she was sneaking out to try to go to balls on her own in London.”

  “Lord!” said Miss Thackerey. “And this is the influence we have on poor Miss Darcy?”

  “Now, now,” said Mr. Darcy. “Miss Lydia has been through a difficult time, losing her parents.”

  “Not an excuse,” said Elizabeth.

  Miss Thackerey wrung her hands.

  Mr. Darcy straightened the lapels on his jacket. “All right, then. How long ago did they leave?”

  “I couldn’t say, sir,” said Miss Thackerey.

  “We have to determine where they’ve gone,” said Elizabeth. “What was that ball that Lydia was speaking of the other day at breakfast? Wasn’t that today?”

  “The Cerkenwale Ball?” said Mr. Darcy. “But that’s not a respectable ball. It’s a mockery of polite society. It’s a den of debauchery. All the women there are whor—of ill repute, and all the men there are drunk and have one thing on their mind.”

  Elizabeth swallowed. “Then if Lydia and Georgiana are there, they will be mistaken for…?”

  “How could that girl have even heard about the Cerkenwale Ball?” muttered Mr. Darcy.

  “Oh, Lydia has her ways,” said El
izabeth.

  “Well, there’s not a moment to lose,” said Mr. Darcy. “We’ll have to take the chaise.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  The Cerkenwale Ball was held outdoors in a great courtyard full of fire baskets. It was dimly lit, and people’s faces were hard to make out. Most of the people at the ball seemed to be rather drunk. They cavorted in and out of the dance floor, only doing half-hearted attempts at steps.

  Men and women were coupled together in corners, kissing. Elizabeth saw one woman whose left bosom was entirely bare.

  Mr. Darcy gripped her hand and they wound through the drunken bodies together. Miss Thackerey had been left behind in case of the girls’ coming to their senses and heading back home. In that unlikely but hoped-for event, the girls would not come home to an empty house.

  Elizabeth could not believe there were so many people at this ball. Could there be so many people in London willing to engage in such debauchery? Then she spotted a light blue dress that looked familiar. “There!” She pointed.

  “Where?” said Mr. Darcy.

  She pointed again. “That must be Lydia.”

  The woman in the dress was not facing them, but it looked like Lydia’s height and build and her hair from the back.

  Mr. Darcy marched over to her and grasped her arm.

  But when the lady turned around, it was not Lydia. Indeed, it was not even a lady, but a slender young man in a woman’s dress. He had painted his cheeks with bright red circles and underlined his eyes. He winked at Mr. Darcy. “Oh ho! Lovely night for a dance, is it not?”

  Darcy dropped the man’s arm. “Terribly sorry. I thought you were someone else.”

  The man roared with laughter, as if Darcy had just told a very funny joke. But if he had, Elizabeth did not understand.

  Darcy put his arm around her, tugging her against him. “Stay close to me,” he murmured in her ear.

  She held onto him. She was frightened, suddenly, and it was not because of the atmosphere, but because of how protectively Mr. Darcy was holding onto her. If she was in danger so close to him, then their sisters must be in awful straits.

  They continued to make their way through the crowd.

  A woman with a jug of some sort of spirits approached them and tried to get them to have a taste of it, but they waved her off.

  They intruded on what must have been a dance, but it was so disorganized, they could not be blamed for not recognizing it. A man tried to rip her away from Mr. Darcy, saying, “It’s time to change partners, can’t you hear the music?”

  But Mr. Darcy would not let go of her, and they moved away from the dancers and kept going.

  Until they reached the edge of the ball. They had been all the way through, and they had not seen Lydia or Georgiana.

  “Perhaps they didn’t stay,” said Elizabeth. “Perhaps they saw what it was and thought better of it, and went home.”

  “I hope so,” said Mr. Darcy. “But we cannot depend upon that, can we?”

  “No, I suppose not,” said Elizabeth. “If they were here on their own and one of these revelers took them for… for those sorts of women, what might he have done to one of them?”

  “I refuse to think of that,” said Mr. Darcy, scanning the crowd. “We must keep looking. We must find them!”

  * * *

  At first, Lydia had thought the Cerkenwale Ball a most wondrous sort of lark, the best she’d ever embarked on. She loved the outdoor atmosphere and the way that everyone seemed so loose and free and happy. She and Georgiana had drunk some wine and laughed and spun around together, glorying in it.

  But then a man had approached them and instead of asking one of them to dance, he had said to Georgiana, “How much, then?”

  “How much?” said Georgiana blankly.

  “You think you’re too good for the likes of me?” said the man. “My money spends as good as anyone else’s!”

  “Why would you want to give me money?” said Georgiana.

  “Why?” The man looked at her as if she were crazy. “For your cunny, you tramp!”

  At which point, pieces began to click into place for Lydia. When she’d heard of this ball, it had been from men who delivered things to the townhouse for Georgiana’s ball, and they had told of it with knowing winks and chuckles. At the time, Lydia had taken it for good fun, but now she could see that the men had meant something sordid by it all. Oh, she was dreadfully stupid.

  She darted forward and stomped on the man’s foot who was talking to Georgiana. “Come on!” she cried. “Back to the carriage!”

  The girls ran as fast as they could through the throng of people dancing and laughing and drinking, but they must have gotten turned around somewhere, because they did not come out on the street where the carriage was meant to be waiting for them.

  Instead, they came to a hedge that enclosed the space, and they could not get through it.

  “Oh, dear,” said Georgiana. “How do we get out of here? And what is this place, Lydia?”

  “I don’t think it’s a good place,” said Lydia. “I think it’s a rather horrible place not meant for young ladies like us, just as your brother said.”

  Georgiana turned white with fear.

  Lydia tugged on her hand. “Come. We have to get out of here.”

  But Georgiana was frozen, and she didn’t speak. She only shook her head back and forth.

  “No, Georgiana,” said Lydia. “Not now! You can’t get frightened on me now. You must move. We can’t stay here.”

  Georgiana didn’t move. She whimpered.

  Lydia tried to think of what to do. She could go off on her own and find the carriage, but that would be no good to Georgiana, who would be stuck back here by the hedges. Besides, if she left Georgiana alone, heaven knew what awful fate might befall her. Lydia had to say with her friend to protect her.

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered to Georgiana. “I’m such a dolt. I shouldn’t have insisted we do this. Oh, if anything happens to you, I’ll never forgive myself.”

  Suddenly, Lydia caught sight of the man from before, the one whose toes she’d trodden on. He was coming straight for them, and he looked angry.

  “Listen,” called the man, “if I want a pretty lass for the night, I shall have her, and you can’t stop me.”

  Lydia yanked on Georgiana’s arm. “We have to move now.”

  Georgiana wouldn’t.

  “Georgiana! Face your fear. Please!”

  Georgiana let out another whimper. But she moved her foot.

  And then Lydia looked up to see the most welcome sight of her entire life. “Elizabeth!” she screamed. “We’re here!”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  “What could you possibly have been thinking?” Mr. Darcy was pacing in front of the fireplace in the sitting room. They were all back home now at the townhouse, and Elizabeth was standing next to the fireplace, arms crossed, glaring at Lydia.

  Lydia and Georgiana sat together on a couch, both of their heads bowed. They had been remarkably silent on the ride home, although they had both been very happy to see Darcy and Elizabeth come to rescue them at the sham of a ball they had sneaked out to attend.

  “You can’t possibly comprehend the consequences that could have befallen you for this sort of behavior,” said Mr. Darcy.

  “It goes beyond the damage to your reputations had anyone seen you,” said Elizabeth. “There was very real, physical danger to the two of you in that place, and you showed no concern for such things when you behaved as you did.”

  “When I think of what might have happened if Miss Thackerey had not gone to check on you,” said Mr. Darcy. “Why, we might not have discovered your absence for hours and hours. The things that could have happened to you both, they turn my stomach.” He stopped pacing and gazed at the ceiling, as if looking to the heavens for guidance.

  Elizabeth went to him and placed her hand on his upper arm.

  He turned to her, sighing, looking aggrieved.

  “It was all my fault
,” said Lydia, suddenly, looking up at them. “You mustn’t blame Georgiana for any of it.”

  “Well, I could have determined that on my own,” said Elizabeth.

  “So, I suppose you dragged her into the carriage with you?” said Mr. Darcy. “You forced her into a ball gown?”

  “Well… no,” said Lydia. “But I talked her into it. She was hesitant, and I kept talking and talking until I convinced her.”

  “I could have said no,” said Georgiana in a quiet voice.

  “I would not have let you,” said Lydia. “I dragged you into this. You knew it was wrong. You would never have done it if I hadn’t suggested it. And I am a foolish, stupid girl who should have known not to go to the ball like that. I thought it was something else.”

  “Clearly,” said Mr. Darcy.

  “If I had known,” said Lydia to him, earnest, “I would never have taken your sister there. Never.”

  Mr. Darcy held her gaze for a moment before nodding. “I believe you. I think you have both learned a valuable lesson tonight.”

  “Indeed,” said Lydia. “I have been most wicked, and I must be punished. You must send me to live with Aunt Philips at once. And you must instruct her not to allow me to go anywhere for a long time. Six months, or—no!—a year. I must be kept at home and forced to do nothing but sew needlepoint or play piano, which I despise, because I do not deserve anything else. I am a wretched, wretched person. When I think of what might have happened to Georgiana, I … well, I don’t even have words for it, and that’s a feat, because I always have words. Anyway, I must be punished. Severely. But don’t punish Georgiana, because she got such a fright when she was there, I think it was worse than anything that you could do to her, and, anyway, it wasn’t her fault, as I’ve said. It was mine.”

  Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. “You are volunteering to be punished?”

  Lydia nodded. “I’ll never do anything like that again. I don’t know why I did this time. It was… I don’t know… the last of the old person I used to be, I think. But now I realize that I was simply young and stupid then, and I don’t want to be anymore. I want to be respectable, and I don’t want to do awful, dangerous things. Still, to be safe, you should remove me from Georgiana’s company right away. Who knows what damage I shall do to her character simply by being near her?”