by Massey, Beth
Richard’s was again captured by his brother’s accusing eyes, and he acknowledged that he was not without some culpability in the loss of Eleanor. She had not been wholly aware of the depth of his feelings. His lack of declaration had been meant to spare her. The Colonel had prepared himself for the possibility she might accept another while he was away. What he had not expected was that his brother would seize the moment and pursue her as a prize he needed to support his profligate ways. He looked away from the body and forced himself to remember Lord Wolfbridge’s cruelty toward Eleanor. At least he had not inflicted physical pain the way Richard suspected he had with Miss Elizabeth… and probably would have done with little Sally.
This thought brought him back to the present. He needed to find a solution for both Miss Elizabeth and her sister. He looked over at Miss Lydia, who seemed a bit more alert. Unfortunately she was staring at the body on the floor, and there seemed to be panic in her eyes. He spoke to her. “Do not look at him. Look at me, Miss Lydia. Tell me what happened. I will protect you, but first I must understand what occurred here.”
Lydia had a look of concentration on her face. “I do not remember exactly, but I know I felt fury as I have never experienced before. His words were confusing to me, but I think his intent was cruel. He said he gave Elizabeth a bastard, and she helped by undressing herself to protect us—her sisters. I do not understand what that means, but all I could think was that he was very evil… and he hurt Lizzy.”
“He was, Miss Lydia. What he did to your sister and was about to do to Sally was an act of unparalleled viciousness. I will explain privately to you what he meant about your sister. No one, absolutely no one else here should be told of his words to you.” He waited for her to nod before he asked the most important question. “Who knew you were up here alone with him?”
“Sally… he had ripped her dress, so I told her to cover herself with Lizzy’s shawl and go outside to find you and her brother. Wickham would have known I was alone with him, once Sally left. I told Sally what Lizzy told me about where to kick Wickham so she could get away.” Lydia’s eyes reflected a terror he had not seen before. “Colonel Fitzwilliam, will they hang me?”
He forced his reply to be as calm and as confidant as the situation would allow. “Not if I can help it, but we must both keep our wits about us. We must make sure no one beyond our closest allies knows you were here.”
Richard was quiet for a few moments, thinking about what Lydia had related. He noticed her eyes were once again drifting toward his brother. Just in the nick of time, he was ready to communicate the first part of his plan. He spoke authoritatively. “Miss Lydia, go outside. Do not stop to talk to Lieutenant Wickham or Colonel Forster. Once outside, see if Miss Lucas, Colonel Bledsoe and Miss Bledsoe are still there. If they are, tell them I instruct them to walk very casually back to the Forsters’ lodgings. There is no need to hurry. Perhaps, you might look in shop windows along the way. It is important to give the appearance to passersby that nothing untoward has happened.”
He pulled her out of the chair and propelled her toward the door. “My hope is they are already on their way, and I am sure Ronald is doing everything he can to protect his sister from any public awareness that she was compromised.” He smiled to bolster Lydia’s confidence. “You were wise to give her the shawl.” She reacted to his compliment with an attempt to smile herself. “If they are gone, you should make your way back in much the same way I described before. Once at the Forsters’ do not discuss what happened with anyone… including Colonel Bledsoe and Miss Sally. Tell Colonel Bledsoe, for his sister’s protection, no one should speak about what has happened. Stress to him how crucial it is that everyone wait to talk of these events. That is the only way we can ensure we are united in our stories.”
He returned to his commanding officer’s voice. “Repeat to me what you are to do.” He was pleased that Lydia was much more alert now and listening closely to his instructions. She looked at the Colonel with respect and did, indeed, comprehend and accurately repeat his request.
Once she left, he began to think in earnest how he could keep this heroic young woman from paying the consequences for her action. The piece of information most crucial to this goal was to find out from Wickham the circumstances of Edmund’s being in this house. Were there servants somewhere who would become aware of what had happened to the tenant? Was he the leasee, or just visiting?
Richard made his way downstairs, where he had left Colonel Forster holding Wickham at sword point. Wickham was trying to look arrogantly aloof, but the Colonel noticed fear in his childhood playmate’s eyes. He had been caught procuring, and the young woman he brought to Edmund was in the guardianship of her brother, a distinguished colonel in the 1st Regiment of Foot—in the time of war.
Wickham worried about what was happening. Lord Wolfbridge had the protection of his title for his actions, but he was only the son of a steward; and his current place in society, thanks to Darcy, was as a lowly lieutenant. He should never have agreed to Edmund’s demands, but the promise of three thousand pounds was too enticing, given his current circumstances. That money would have allowed him to resign the militia and depart for London—debts left behind. Mrs Younge could have been charmed to give him a room.
Richard’s face was resolute and demanding as he faced the lieutenant. “Wickham, I warn you, do not attempt to lie. Answering my questions truthfully is your only chance for any leniency in this situation. Enticing a child for my brother is a disreputable act, and Colonel Bledsoe is, probably right now, considering calling out both you and Edmund. My advice to him will be, to instead, involve the local constabulary. I believe debtor’s prison would be a fitting place for you.”
The apprehension in Wickham’s eyes told Richard his words had hit the mark. “I am certain you have accumulated some debt since you have been in Brighton, not to mention obligations you have left in other places. Darcy has an investigator he can put on your case. We should have done something like that last year after the Ramsgate incident, but both of us were too generous. We will not be so this time. Both Darcy and I have an axe to grind with my brother, and unfortunately, you might be the easier one to make pay the price for his depravity.” Richard’s eyes hardened as he fired several questions. “Why is Lord Wolfbridge here in Brighton? Whose house is this?”
Wickham wondered why Edmund was not answering these questions. He decided his friend had abandoned him to face the anger of Colonel Fitzwilliam alone—or perhaps he was being given an opportunity to escape… they were brothers, after all. He knew he must speak, and he tried to keep the fear out of his voice as he began, “Edmund leased the house from a friend in London. The gentleman uses it for assignations. A very discreet older couple live here and take care of the house. When we made plans for my bringing Miss Bledsoe here today, he gave them several days off, and they travelled to Lewes to visit their daughter and her new baby.”
“Have you ever been to visit my brother when they were here? Have you met them?” Wickham nodded. This was the best of news, and Richard felt the muscles in his body relax slightly. His assurance of success in protecting Miss Lydia and Miss Sally increased significantly. By the look on Wickham’s face, his next demand was a surprise. “Give me your sword.”
Wickham complied immediately; and convinced himself it was a measure to ensure he did not attempt to escape. Since they were two, and his commanding officer’s sword was aimed at his gut, he had certainly never entertained the notion of fleeing. Wickham looked at Colonel Forster quizzically when Richard returned upstairs with his weapon.
Upon re-entering the room, Richard moved quickly to the body. He plunged Wickham’s sword into the wound caused by Miss Lydia’s knife. He picked up the knife wrapped in the towel, tucked the package inside his jacket, and took one last look around the room before returning to Wickham and Colonel Forster. Wickham was so confused by what Richard was doing, that he did not notice the blood on the sword when it was replaced in his scabbard, and C
olonel Fizwilliam grabbed his right arm. “Lawrence, put your sword away and take his other arm. We need to get him to whatever you have, that serves as a stockade, and we need to go there without attracting attention. Wickham, it is in your interest to cooperate. I plan to send for Darcy, and I think we can find a way to spare you debtor’s prison.”
Once back at the encampment, his first order of business was to send an express to Darcy. Richard knew his cousin had been called to Rosings by his aunt. It was fortuitous Kent was such a short distance from Brighton. He relayed none of the particulars, but repeatedly told Darcy of the urgency of his request and mentioned several times, ‘The situation of which I write involves the reputations of Miss Elizabeth, Miss Lydia and Bethany.’
Darcy arrived the following day and shortly after a conference with his cousin and the other colonels, left for London to secure the funds necessary for their plan. Soon, he and Richard were in Southampton, escorting Wickham to a ship headed for Jamaica.
Once aboard, Wickham had time to reflect on what had happened. Darcy had handed over the first class ticket with little emotion as was his habit. Richard had found it humorous that their childhood friend’s trip would not be fraught with the same dangers as those who were transported. That was obviously a veiled threat. However, the Master of Pemberley had seemed to struggle to hide his disgust as he had given the former lieutenant the three thousand pounds—the exact amount Edmund had promised him to aid his deviant desires. He had been proud of himself for negotiating the guarantee that his debts would be tracked down and paid, but both men had stressed that he should put all thoughts of returning to England out of his mind. Colonel Fitzwilliam had found numerous opportunities, always delivered with his habitual air of easy amiability, to remind Wickham that the weapon that had killed Lord Wolfbridge was his sword; and he had been seen in the company of Edmund in Brighton. There had been mirth in his voice as he ended by saying the punishment for one who murdered a viscount would be harsh and swift. These powerful men had had the upper hand. He had decided it was prudent to accept the life in the new world they offered. It was a much better alternative than the hangman’s noose.
Elizabeth received a very fat letter from Mary, and was surprised when she opened it to have a message from Will inside. She laughed at how relentless he was in finding ways to communicate with her. He had obviously persuaded her sister his message was of the utmost importance and beyond the bounds of needing to abide by proper behaviour. Mary was certain to have needed little convincing, as she and Georgiana were the two most indomitable supporters of marriage between their siblings.
Dearest Elizabeth,
My aunt demanded I return to Kent and attend to some estate crisis. It was, of course, a ruse to force me into her company, so she could find out what was going on between Edmund and me. My uncle had written her of our altercation, but had not given her any of the details. I have refused her on the basis that it is a private matter, and I am as unwilling to go into the details as my uncle. Needless to say, she is very unhappy with my attitude. She also harps on the fact that I broke his beautiful aristocratic Fitzwilliam nose, and one of his gorgeous white teeth.
Since I missed the caravan to Derbyshire because of her nonsense, I have used my time wisely and have spent whole afternoons questioning your sister about what you were like before that fateful trip to London. I regret that I was only allowed that one brief shining encounter at the theatre before Edmund changed you.
You told me Anne revealed to you the details of the legendary proposal of my father to my mother. It was a simple list of the qualities that endeared her to him. This is my attempt to tell you of those things that both drew me to you and kept you in my thoughts for six years. Neither guilt nor prejudice nor family obstacles could dislodge you from my mind. As proof of my enduring fascination, a painting hangs in my study at Pemberley that was bought so I could have a reminder of one of my most precious memories of you… glowing in the candlelight, reading a book and waiting for Bethany to be born.
As I compose my list, I will start at the beginning… with Shakespeare. I know neither of us considers ‘Romeo and Juliet’ our favourite, but the following captures perfectly what I felt that evening at the theatre when I looked out and saw you for the first time:
‘Oh! She doth teach the torches to burn bright.’
You were filled with joy… joy for the poetry and joy for the expectations of life… a bright example of Miranda’s hopes and dreams. I watched you mouth the words. “O wonder!” and then “How many goodly creatures are there here! How beauteous mankind is!” You were lustrous with youth and promise, and I wished I could join you as you journeyed forward to discover a brave new world.
Now for the list in no order based on my preference, but random as the thoughts come to me:
I love your impertinent wit. I wish you were here right now, conversing with me, and we could once again enjoy the repartee we indulged in at Netherfield. I love how you tease me.
Whenever I am in your presence, even when we have been at odds… you have made me laugh.
When you laugh, you laugh with your whole being. It is as though the sound bubbles to the surface from your soul.
You laugh even though you have endured more sadness than most can imagine.
I love your bosom. I did not say this list would be completely without shallow sentiments.
I love your toes. I have only seen them once, but it was enough to cause me to dream about them often.
I love the scent of you. It engages my senses whenever you are near.
I love the way you stood up to Lady Catherine. She does not know how much I enjoyed listening to her detailed description of your improper behaviour. I wish I had been there to see you toe to toe with her.
I love your witch’s cackle, and I have never heard a better storyteller than you.
I think you would make the most beautiful Titania Pemberley’s midsummer picnic has ever seen.
Dearest one, I am not through with my list, but I must close. An express has come from Richard, and I am wanted in Brighton. Perhaps, you will allow me to finish the list in person.
I miss your eyes, your hair, your cheek, your voice, your gait… let it be soon… do not hesitate… tell me you will.
See you in September, my love.
Will
Lizzy was almost overwhelmed by his words. She wanted to be in his arms, smell his scent and hear the deep rumble of his laugh. Her greatest temptation was to write to him and accept, but she knew it would be better saved until they were with each other again.
55 TRUTH IS THE FIRST CASUALTY
While still in Brighton, Colonel Ronald Bledsoe and Miss Lydia Bennet asked Mr Darcy for a conference. Richard had informed his cousin that Miss Lydia now knew about her sister’s rape. It had been Edmund’s bragging about his violation of Miss Elizabeth and leaving her with child that had been the trigger for her stabbing him. Darcy hoped that was not what they were to discuss. He was not certain why Richard would allow Colonel Bledsoe to learn that particular piece of the truth.
The Colonel and Miss Lydia were waiting for him, seated next to each other on a sofa in Colonel Forster’s office. Darcy noticed they often looked at each other in that same affectionate way he had seen John Reynolds and Miss Katherine exchange glances. The irony of their request was not lost on him once it was divulged—all the Miss Bennets, but one, would be married women by the end of September.
The Colonel spoke first. “Mr Darcy, Miss Lydia and I are in love and determined to marry as soon as possible. I need somewhere to stay in London while we prepare for the wedding, and Colonel Fitzwilliam suggested I ask you. He also believed you would be able to help me secure a special license.”
For having recently killed a viscount, Lydia Bennet was remarkably poised. Her face was wreathed with happiness, as though her life was going precisely as she had planned. “I also suggested Ronald ask you. My sister has told me how lovely Darcy House is.” Her expression became more
serious. “For propriety’s sake, I will take Miss Bledsoe with me to my aunt and uncle in Cheapside. Lizzy told me that Miss Darcy, her companion and your children were to return to Pemberley.”
Darcy felt a twinge of pleasure that Elizabeth had talked about him with her sisters. “Certainly you may stay there, Colonel. I will alert my housekeeper to expect you.” It was unclear how quickly they planned to marry so he felt he should add, “Richard needs me to go with him to Derbyshire for Lord Wolfbridge’s funeral… and to help him manage the Earl’s reaction to his son’s death. The special license will have to wait until I return to London.”
“We are acting quickly, but not so precipitously that we draw suspicion upon ourselves. It is a time of war and haste is often the order of the day in matters of love. The Colonel’s military bearing slipped slightly as he prepared to ask another more personal favour. “The first thing I must do is secure her father’s permission. You have met Mr Bennet. Tell me if you have any words of wisdom for how to approach the man. Lawrence and Mrs Forster have told me not to worry as he is not the most vigilant parent.” Lydia’s look seemed to question his statement. “But who am I to judge the man, I obviously was not as successful as I should have been in preparing Sally to see past a handsome face and a charming demeanour.”
Lydia touched the Colonel’s arm and her voice took on a soothing tone. “Sally is just a young girl, Ronald. I will be there to protect her in the future, and I have been well trained by my older sisters.”
Darcy was thinking of his own failings with Georgiana when he offered the Colonel reassurance. “Colonel Bledsoe, you have been away at war.”