“You want to see witchcraft? Fine, if you’re going to be that way, I’ll break out the big guns.” She snapped her fingers and procured out of thin air a strange object.
She handed it to Darcy. “Open it, you’ll see I’m not lying.”
He flipped the object open to see a picture of a doppelganger of himself standing next to a strange man in yellow.
“Begone, back to the depths of Hell with you!” He spat at her feet.
“You’re impossible!” She turned on her heel and removed herself from the situation before Darcy could continue to quarrel with her.
He stood dumbfounded and shocked. He felt his knees buckle, and his breathing hitched. Surely, I am losing my mind.
****
Mr. Wickham was aware that Elizabeth was back at her home. Mr. Bennet begrudgingly allowed Mr. Wickham to pay her several visits; fortunately, she was sleeping when he visited. Mr. Bennet did not want to distress or worsen Elizabeth’s weakened state. The duke called several times and stayed by her side. He had insisted on sending the best physician to aid Elizabeth in regaining her health.
On one occasion, Mrs. Bennet fawned over his thoughtfulness and was quick to jump at the opportunity to having a duke for a son-in-law. “You are a better man than Mr. Darcy.”
The duke smiled; he found her insufferable and annoying, but he did like the idea of marrying Elizabeth.
Another week had passed, and she remained delirious. One night, she again awoke from a nightmare and felt a gentle, strong hand brushing her hair back while placing a cold compress on her forehead. A soft whisper of reassurance lulled her back to sleep. He whispered words of love and whispered how he would give anything to have her regain her health, so they could start their lives together. Her heart wanted to explode. She whispered back, “Darcy, darling, you’ve come back.”The duke stroked her cheek gently. “No, my love, it is not Darcy who pours his heart out to you; it is I, Charles.”
She tried to sit up and push his hand away from her face. He gently laid her back down. “Do not exert yourself, my darling.”
“Why are you here? Haven’t you caused me enough pain?” she said through clenched teeth.
“Your mother is practically arranging our marriage as I speak. She believes our marriage would redeem your family after Darcy abandoned you. I agree with her and she has welcomed me with open arms; why can you not, my love?”
“I am not your love nor your darling. My heart only longs to hear sweet words from Darcy and not an asshole such as yourself.”
He laughed. “Such language for a beautiful goddess as yourself. I shall teach you some manners and to respect me once we are wed.”
“I would never wed you in a million years!” she spat.
“Never say never, Aphrodite. I do not foresee Darcy returning for you anytime soon. The last I heard, he was gallivanting around in taverns and keeping company with bar wenches.”
Tears stung her eyes. Such lies; Darcy would never do such a thing. Above all else, he was a true gentleman and would never break his vows. She wanted to cry and to be left alone. “Your Grace, you spread vile lies and gossip. Leave me at once, and I never want to see your putrid face ever again.”
“Tsk, tsk, my love, your words pierce my heart. I shall take my leave, but I shall continue to return. I do not take orders from women, and I certainly will not take orders from you, enchantress.” He attempted to kiss her, and she bit his bottom lip. He slapped her in the face. “That, my dear, was only a warning. Cross me again, and you shall receive far worse.” He left Elizabeth, and she burst into tears.
She no longer could keep it together. Darcy was the glue that kept her together, and he was forever lost to her. She felt weak as if she was becoming one of those women she loathed. She became emotional, needy, and worst of all, a damsel in distress. She was not sure how to keep it all together in this hell. She had to leave, and soon. She willed herself out of bed and tiptoed to her door to make sure everyone was asleep, and that Worthington had left.
Unfortunately, she heard voices down in her father’s study, shouting. She closed her door and lit a candle while surveying her room for clothes to put on. She went to her window to see how far of a jump it would be. It did not look promising; however, she did not care if she broke a bone or two, and she was unsure about the twins she supposedly carried. Were they even real, or a phantom pregnancy? She was desperate to leave, and the cold air did not deter her. She was already sick. What difference did it make? She would make it into town and call for a doctor, or at least, she hoped so.
Before she closed her window, a stone flew into her room and thudded onto the floor by her feet. She was startled and jumped, which made the floor creak. Luckily, nobody came to see what the matter was. A voice traveled in the night to her room. “Elizabeth, my dear child, come quickly.”
Elizabeth stifled a cry of joy. She ran to the window; it was her Aunt Jane. “I am afraid that no white knight is here to save you, but I come with a ladder and a horse.” Her aunt proceeded to place the ladder under her window, and she did not hesitate to scramble down it. Once her feet touched the ground, she raced to her aunt, embraced her, and cried. “Darling, wipe your tears; there is no time for that, and we must hurry.” Jane placed a cloak around Elizabeth and told Elizabeth to help her get rid of the ladder.
They ditched it in the bushes nearby and quickly ran to the horses, mounted, and rode off faster than a speeding bullet. Elizabeth could not believe her luck that her Aunt Jane had come to rescue her.
Once they were far away from the manor, Jane and Elizabeth slowed down to catch their breath. “We are safe now. In half a mile, I must leave you. There will be a carriage awaiting you, to take you into town and to the Lion’s Den Inn.”
Elizabeth could not process all of this; it was a whirlwind of confusion.
Jane looked at Elizabeth, fear etched upon her face. She spoke before Elizabeth could formulate her words. “I overheard in the tavern a cloaked figure speaking of you and Darcy’s demise.”
Elizabeth was shocked, and Jane continued. “Once you are at the Lion’s Den, you will rest, and the following morning another carriage will pick you up in the back alley.”
“Jane, please do not leave me, I do not have clothes nor money.” Jane stopped her horse, as did Elizabeth, and Jane pulled out a pouch of gold.
“There is enough for a couple of nights, for food and clothing and travel. You must get out of here and go as far as you can. You are not safe here.”
“What about Darcy and Anise? They must be warned and protected.”
“Do not worry about them; all will be taken care of. We must get you out of here to safety, and so you can return home.”
Elizabeth stared dreamily into space. “Home,” she whispered. How her heart ached to be home and to be snuggled up in her warm bed and fuzzy pajamas. It was the simple things she missed the most.
“Elizabeth, snap out of it, you can dream later. He is waiting for you.” Jane slapped Elizabeth’s horse, and both rode off.
Half a mile later, they approached the carriage. Elizabeth did not want to leave her aunt. Elizabeth had a bazillion questions to ask her. “Before I go, I have to ask you, am I dead? How do I go back home? What about Darcy?”
Jane looked Elizabeth in the eye and placed her hands on Elizabeth’s shoulders. “Darling, you are not dead. I have given you and Darcy answers, and you still are too stubborn to believe any of it. I wish I could give you the answers you want to hear, but I cannot, nor do we have time. Once you arrive at your destination, a small church, you will meet with Father Michael, who will help you get home.”
“Aunt Jane, what about Darcy?”
Jane grimly replied, “I do not know his fate.”
“You were always cryptic; I guess nothing will ever change, even in Heaven.”
Jane laughed. “Elizabeth, I just told you that you were not dead, and trust me, Heaven is a far better place than here.” Jane hugged Elizabeth tightly and pushed her over
to the carriage. “Go, before the duke catches up with us.”
Elizabeth wanted to say so many things, but Jane urged the driver to speed along before they could say goodbye. Elizabeth cried, “I guess I was right, nothing will ever change. Surely this is Hell.” She slumped back into her seat and closed her eyes.
Elizabeth was startled awake by the driver. “Missus, we are here.” He took her things as she stirred awake. “Watch yer step.” He took her hand to help her out of the carriage. She was tired, and her bones ached from the bumpy ride. The driver went inside with her. “Stay here.” He left her to talk to the innkeeper; they exchanged money, and the driver came back with a key.
The driver helped Elizabeth upstairs to her room, dropped her things beside the bed, and gave her directions that in the morning another driver was going to pick her up and take her to London.
The driver bid her farewell. She did not even change her clothes; she dragged herself into bed, and once her head hit the pillow, she was fast asleep. No dreams came that night, only restless sleep.
****
Unbeknownst to the driver, a figure in the corner of the inn kept an eye on him and Elizabeth. Once the driver left, after some time to make sure Elizabeth was asleep, he went to the innkeeper and bribed him to unlock her door. The innkeeper was greedy, and agreed, in exchange for a nice large sum of gold coins.
Once inside, the cloaked figure drugged Elizabeth and quietly stole away in the middle of the night with her over their shoulder. They were unseen and went out the back into the alley, where a carriage awaited them.
The bumpy ride in the alley did not awaken Elizabeth, and the kidnapper was pleased. They were in for a long ride, and they did not want to resort to any other means to keep her quiet and unconscious. She was to be delivered unharmed; any infliction she was to suffer was going to be at the hand of their boss.
The man shivered, thinking what cruel things awaited Elizabeth. His boss was not to be crossed, and he knew of their wrath. He did as he was told, and the pay was handsome for giving his boss what they wanted.
Hours later, the sun shone through the cracks of the carriage. Mr. Collins awoke to Elizabeth laying her head on his lap. It pleased him. He craved her body, but knew if he laid one hand on her, he was going to pay severely. He would await his turn patiently. He began to stroke Elizabeth’s hair. She purred, “Darcy, darling . . .” She grabbed his hand to feel his fingers on her face, and she began to drag it farther down.
His breathing hitched at her reaction, and he growled in anticipation. He was going to be caught up in the moment and forget his vow. He was interrupted when the carriage hit a rut in the road. She jerked up to face him, and she screamed.
He slapped his hand over her mouth to quiet her. She bit him and drew blood. He recoiled back in pain. “Bitch.” He was about to slap her face and refrained. She could not be presented with a red mark on her face.
She was unsure why he stopped, but she was not going to tempt him any further. She heard voices outside, and she began to reach for the door to jump out while the carriage was in motion. “Cousin, you do not want to do that, or you shall suffer severely.”
Her eyes caught the glint of a knife in his jacket, and she knew she was in danger; she had to remain in control, or she would freak out. Mr. Collins might have been a godly man, but she did not doubt for one minute that he was capable of hurting another.
“Where are you taking me?” Elizabeth tried to stay calm, but her heart was beating fast; her adrenaline was in overdrive. She had taken self-defense classes in the past, and she was ready to strike. She thought of several ways to kick him in the groin and incapacitate him; she was pissed. I wish I knew the Vulcan nerve pinch and kill this son of a . . . In mid-thought, Mr. Collins placed a foul-smelling cloth over her mouth, and she faded into darkness.
When she awoke, everything was fuzzy. She heard voices in the other room. She was in a dark room, lit only by a single candle. She strained her ears to listen to what they were saying. She began to get up and went over to the door to listen. She heard footsteps, and she ran back to the thin and rodent-infested mattress. She shuddered and wanted to vomit. She was beyond pissed, and she was definitely going to strike whoever entered that door in his family jewels. More like, kick them so far up he would sing soprano. As the doorknob turned, she closed her eyes and mentally prepared herself.
Lady Catherine de Bourgh entered the room and let out a sound of disgust. “Couldn’t you have chosen a better place to store this horrid creature? I am afraid to catch a disease just by standing amidst this filth.”
“My lady,” the man sniveled, “it was the best we could do, to hide her away from Darcy.”
“Mr. Collins, for such a godly man, you are pathetic, for this will not do at all; we must at least take her somewhere far less disgusting than this, and make sure you chain her to the wall.”
“Yes, my lady, at once.” She felt footsteps shake the floor; the vibrations shook her body. She felt queasy, and she began to breathe slowly to shake the nausea. She needed to be of sound mind. Once beside her, he bent down and licked his lips. “Such a delicious morsel,” he whispered in her ear. “I shall love devouring you and ruining you.”
Rage and adrenaline swirled throughout her body. She saw red. Keep it together, Lizzie. She had to keep her wits about her. She couldn’t understand why Collins had turned out to be a creeper. From her prior knowledge, she knew he was disappointed in not marrying the other Lizzie, and he was trapped in a loveless marriage with Charlotte. She wondered if this could have caused him to go over the edge of sanity?
She could not hold her rage much longer, and she bit his ear whilst kneeing him as hard as she could. He fell back in anger, then he got back up and slapped her in the face. “You insolent bitch, you shall pay dearly for that.”
Lady Catherine de Bourgh procured a knife from her bodice and approached Mr. Collins and handed it to him. “Mr. Collins punish her as you see fit, and teach this bitch a lesson that she shall never forget.”
Through clenched teeth, Elizabeth spat in his face. “You’re going to burn in Hell for this, you sick bastard.”
He slapped her across her cheek, leaving a red mark. “Your words excite me more, dear cousin. I shall gladly enjoy this.”
She struggled to kick him in his groin, but he pinned her down. Mr. Collins gleefully took the knife from Lady Catherine and ripped Elizabeth’s nightgown, exposing her chest.
Lady Catherine admonished Mr. Collins. “Sir, you shall not violate her before me. Do something more damaging, and wipe that smug look off her face.” Lady Catherine took the knife from his hands and slashed Elizabeth’s face. “Never send a man to do a woman’s job.” She placed the knife back into her bodice and stared down at Elizabeth. “Now, my dear, if you so much as try to escape, it shall be your neck I slit.”
Elizabeth wanted to cry; she silently prayed for Darcy, but she knew her prayers were useless. Mr. Collins turned away from her, his back to her; she lunged towards him, kicked him in the back of his knees, and stabbed him in the arm with a piece of broken glass she had found before they entered the room. She then went after Lady Catherine and punched her in the face, kneed her in the stomach, and reached into her bodice and took the knife.
Both incapacitated, she ran for the door and opened it, only to run into what felt like a wall. “Where do you think you are going, love?” Shit. He grabbed her and flung her back into the room and onto the floor.
Lady Catherine finally revived from the blow. “Where the hell have you been, Wickham?”
“I have been predisposed.” He swaggered, smelling like cheap gin and cheap whores. He sauntered past Lady Catherine, and she held her nose.
“Disgusting habits,” she sneered, as Elizabeth stared at them both, dazed. Her head hurt, and when Lady Catherine continued to speak, it bored into her skull. “You are to take care of Elizabeth and dispose of her elsewhere. Darcy mustn’t be able to find her, nor anyone else see her.”
“With pleasure.” He went over to Elizabeth and picked her up like a rag doll. She began to kick him and protest, but it was hopeless.
Lady Catherine procured a tiny bottle and rag and placed the foul-smelling rag over Elizabeth’s mouth and nose, and the world around her dissolved. Elizabeth was paralyzed. “There; she shan’t be able to resist any longer. She is posing more of a problem than I had thought. Such a feral creature; what Darcy or you see in her is beyond my comprehension. She is far better off dead.”
Elizabeth wanted to kill all three of them, especially Lady Catherine, but she was again the damsel in distress. Dear God, please let Darcy find me. Her body grew tired, and she began to drown in their garbled conversation and fell asleep.
“It is about time she passed out; now I shall depart. Now, Wickham and Mr. Collins, dispose of her; alive or dead, it matters not. Now, Wickham, you know what else you must do.” Lady Catherine waved her hand in the air in finality and walked out of the room.
Wickham turned to Mr. Collins. “I trust you shall take care of her and hide her properly. Do not muck this up, or you shall pay dearly.” Wickham left to make his way back to Longbourn to deliver the news of Elizabeth’s disappearance.
Mr. Bennet and Charles heard the noises from upstairs but thought nothing of it. That night, Charles departed, determined to return the next day to take Elizabeth away. The next morning was a shock to Mr. Bennet when he found Elizabeth missing. Mr. Wickham caught him off guard when he showed up to deliver the news of Elizabeth. He told Mr. Bennet that Elizabeth had been retrieved and was being held captive for ransom.
Shell-shocked, Mr. Bennet grabbed the pistol hidden in his desk and pointed it at Wickham. “You lay one hand on her, and you shall find a bullet in your heart. Tell me where she is at once.”
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