Returning to Mr. Darcy

by Sheena Austin

  “When did you grow a backbone? Furthermore, I would not go making hollow threats, or it will be my pistol that pierces your heart. I shall be back, and you have twenty-four hours to sign over that inheritance or Elizabeth shall die.”

  Their brief encounter shook Mr. Bennet into a completely new world of worry. He had to find Elizabeth, but he could not tell Darcy or anyone else. He knew if he alerted anyone close, there would be consequences.

  Unbeknownst to him, Lydia heard the whole thing, even about the inheritance. She silently crept to the kitchen and raced outside, unseen by Wickham and her father. She hid beside the manor and called his driver to her quickly. “Where are you taking Mr. Wickham?”

  The driver looked around, uneasy, to make sure Mr. Wickham was not around. “What is it to you?”

  “More like what’s it to you, do you value your life?” She produced a knife and placed it against his throat.

  “Lady Catherine’s,” he sputtered. She removed her knife as she heard Mr. Wickham shut the door, and she ran off before she could be caught. The driver was white, but Mr. Wickham cared not, and demanded of him not to dawdle and to get a move on.

  Lydia, hidden up against the side of the manor, had to find Darcy and save Elizabeth. The problem was that she had no idea where Darcy was. She silently prayed that he could be found at Pemberley, and went to their driver, Thomas, and demanded that she be driven to Pemberley and that no one was to know about it. Luckily for her, the driver was smitten and would do anything for her. She told Thomas to avoid being seen by Mr. Wickham and to stick to the back roads.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Darcy awoke with a hangover, and cobwebs tangled his thoughts. He thought drinking away the nightmares would help, but it made them worse. He decided to seek out Elizabeth, and go with her parents to reclaim his wife. He was going mad, and the altercation with the peddler woman shook him to his core. Yet he did not want to admit that such a woman beneath his status could do such a thing. However, there was an authority about her that knocked him from his pedestal. He went to fetch his valet to prepare a carriage to leave immediately to see Elizabeth.

  While he was in the midst of opening the door and walking out, Lydia collided with him. She fell to the ground, and Darcy was shocked to see her. He shook the shock away and helped her up. “What is it, Lydia, what brings you here?”

  While getting up, she panted, “Elizabeth . . .” She gulped. “Wickham.”

  Darcy was furious and impatient. “Lydia, take a deep breath, and try again.”

  Lydia closed her eyes and took a deep breath; once she reopened her eyes, Darcy’s face did not hide his impatience well. “Elizabeth ran away, and Wickham found her, and now he is holding her for ransom.”

  Darcy flew into a rage and ran into his study to retrieve his pistol. He was seething red, blinded with rage, and stormed past Lydia, pushing her aside.

  Lydia tried to catch up with him. “He was going to Lady Catherine’s after he left Father. She is being held for her inheritance. He will no doubt kill her.”

  Darcy spun around on his heel. “Not if I kill him first.” He left before she could say anything else. He took his horse and rode off in a blaze of fury. Darcy rode throughout the night and through exhaustion. He must not fail Elizabeth; he was furious with himself, and her. Why would she run away and put herself into this danger?

  It began to storm; the rain was making the road muddy, and it was difficult to continue. Heavy drops of rain pelted him, and his vision was impaired. He was at least ten miles from Lady Catherine’s, and even though he did not want to, he had to stop for shelter. Luckily, he found a barn, and the light was coming from it. He steered his horse toward the barn, and he heard a woman screaming.

  ****

  Elizabeth awoke, finding herself in a barn with Wickham standing over her. Darcy made a mad dash in the pouring rain, and as he burst in, he found Wickham hovering over Elizabeth. Darcy saw a knife in Wickham’s hand. Darcy did not think, but reacted blindly, and quickly surveyed the barn, trying not to be heard. He grabbed the closest thing, a pitchfork. With the blunt force of the handle, Darcy knocked Wickham down. Elizabeth was crying and gagging from the cloth in her mouth. Darcy began to run over to her but stopped in his tracks as he felt something cold press against his back.

  Mr. Collins laughed. “You are a daft fool. Do not go all heroic or a bullet will pierce your poor Elizabeth’s heart, and you are next after you watch her expire.”

  Wickham groaned and rubbed his head. “What took you so long, Collins?” he sneered, as he got up and brushed himself off. “Enough with the dramatics, Collins,” Wickham barked, taking Collins’ gun and pushing him onto the hard floor.

  Collins started to snivel like a rodent and tried to scurry away as Wickham kicked him to the ground. With one boot on Collins’ chest, he pointed the gun at him. “You are a poor excuse for a man, Collins. No wonder your wife rejects you. You are a disgusting, ugly little man. You are a sick rat, and you shall die a rat.” Before Collins could protest, Wickham shot him in the chest.

  Darcy and Elizabeth stared at one another, and both flinched as the shot rang out. Elizabeth’s heart was beating so fast she thought it was going to explode. Collins’ gun flew out of his hands, and Wickham quickly picked it up, spun around to face Darcy and Elizabeth, and pointed it at Darcy.

  Darcy’s heart and adrenaline were pumping so loud in his ears that he could not think straight. His fight-or-flight took over and before Wickham could say anything, Darcy lunged at him. Darcy kneed Wickham in the groin and knocked his gun out of his hands. Elizabeth’s eyes grew wide with horror. She could not bear to watch; she closed her eyes and prayed to God to make this nightmare end.

  Darcy wrestled Wickham to the ground. Wickham tried to slither away like a serpent to retrieve the gun that was now lying next to Elizabeth. Wickham was gaining the upper hand and rolled on top of Darcy, but Darcy would not allow Wickham to get close to Elizabeth or the gun.

  Elizabeth felt something cold hit her as her eyes were closed. She opened her eyes—an answer to her prayers; it was Wickham’s gun. She struggled to loosen the ties around her wrists. Thankfully, Wickham had begun to cut them off before Darcy attacked him. It took her what felt like an eternity to rip free. Her hands were shaking, but she picked up the gun, sat up, and aimed it at Wickham. Darcy was in the way, and she shouted to get their attention. She prayed Wickham would look up and give Darcy the chance to sweep from underneath him. Thankfully, she was right. Without overthinking it, she pulled the trigger, and as if in slow motion the bullet pierced Wickham’s chest.

  Darcy ran over to Elizabeth and held her tightly. He kissed her face, her lips, her eyes, and she did not protest. “Elizabeth, darling, are you all right?” She parted her lips to answer; however, before she could, she was interrupted.

  “Oh, what a fetching reunion. You both are just like Romeo and Juliet, but unfortunately still alive.”

  They both turned to see who was there, and standing in the doorway was Anne, holding a pistol pointed right at Elizabeth. Elizabeth moaned. “It’s like I am in a bloody western.”

  Anne slithered over to Darcy and Elizabeth without putting the pistol down. Darcy tried to survey the room for the gun Elizabeth had held, but he could not find it. Anne saw what he was doing, and she picked up the pistol and waved it in front of him. “Looking for this, sweet Darcy?” She pouted her lips. “Trying to be heroic, darling? I am afraid that is not going to work out well for you. You see, you have a choice—either you come with me and Elizabeth dies, or you stay and you both die.”

  Darcy looked at Elizabeth with remorse in his eyes; he could not think of any other way to save her. He had to be heroic and save her from Anne. He squeezed Elizabeth’s hand to reassure her that all would be well and that she must trust him. Darcy turned to Anne. “As I see it, Anne, your only option is to remove yourself from here. Let us be civil, cousin, and leave Elizabeth out of this.”

  Anne looked at him suspic
iously. “All right, cousin, let us talk civilly after I shoot your wife.” Anne shot her pistol at Elizabeth, and Darcy jumped in front of Elizabeth to save her. Darcy fell at Elizabeth’s feet, and she fell to the ground. She buried her head into Darcy’s chest, crying as she cursed. Anne laughed. “Now, darling, it’s your turn.” Then all went black.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Warmth spread through Elizabeth’s body, and she felt weightless. She heard voices that sounded as if she were underwater. Fear gripped her; her body reacted as if she were drowning. She was gasping for air and flailing her arms, and her eyes flew wide open. She thought she was dead; bright lights blinded her. Weird noises bombarded her hearing and senses. Her nerves were on edge, and she panicked. She heard someone call out, but she did not know what he or she was saying. Voices drilled through her head, arms were pushing her down, and a sudden calmness came over her. Her eyes were still open. She did not blink, and she only stared.

  Charles called for the nurse as Elizabeth’s pulse skyrocketed and she started going into convulsions. He was worried she was going to flat line. He ran out of the room, calling for a doctor or anyone who was close by.

  He skidded into the young doctor who had been treating Elizabeth for the two months. He pulled him into the room and shouted at him to save Elizabeth. The doctor rushed over to Elizabeth, and a nurse came running in after him. The doctor and the nurse were about to help Elizabeth when she just suddenly stopped her convulsions.

  Elizabeth continued to stare far off; her vision came into focus as well as the voices. She tried to speak but her throat was dry. She licked her lips, indicating she wanted water. Charles quickly obliged and gave her a cup that was sitting next to her bed. Elizabeth weakly held the cup and drank. “Darcy,” she whispered.

  She continued to call out for Darcy. She began to cry, and Charles stared at her. He raised his voice. “Elizabeth, quiet, Mr. Darcy is not here.”

  “No, you be quiet and get your fucking hands off me. You need to get the fuck out of here now. You’re a lying sack of shit. We are done. I never want to see you again.”

  Charles’ eyes grew wide with fury. He grabbed her wrist, but the doctor intervened. “You need to leave now, Mr. Davenport, or I will call security.”

  Charles puffed out his chest and pushed the doctor out of his way. He looked back at Elizabeth. “Big mistake, Elizabeth. Nobody will ever want you.”

  Before things escalated, another nurse came rushing in. “Dr. Johnson, John Doe has awoken too. He is having an episode; he is very furious and disoriented.”

  Every nerve in Elizabeth’s body electrified as she heard his voice. “Elizabeth, where is she! Bring me to her at once.” She was plugged in to several machines, and she jumped up and got tangled up. The voice grew louder; she was still fumbling and trying to untangle herself when she saw him.

  The doctor and Charles tried to barricade Darcy from Elizabeth, but he walked right through them. Darcy ran to Elizabeth and pressed her into his arms. He kissed her passionately. “Darling, are we dead? Have we gone to purgatory instead of Heaven?”

  She laughed; she honestly was not quite sure what had happened. “Pinch me, and I shall see if I am dreaming or not.”

  He looked at her, laughed, and pinched her on her bottom. She giggled. “We are not dead, and this is definitely not a dream.”

  Charles tried to pull them apart. “William Darcy! You get your hands off my fiancée.”

  Darcy held his ground and spoke through clenched teeth. “Sir, you are mistaken; you get your hands off my wife if you are fond of your life.” Before Charles could react, Darcy’s fist made contact with his nose, and blood streamed down Charles’ face.

  Darcy pulled Elizabeth closer, and she nuzzled into his chest. “My hero.”

  ****

  The call from the solicitor caught Elizabeth off guard. She had no idea why this man had contacted her. Once he explained, she still was shocked. Elizabeth’s aunt Jane had left her an inheritance, which included a deed to Pemberley, and an inheritance of an amount of money that meant she would not have to work a day in her life and could jump on a plane to Milan. Elizabeth was shocked as she and Darcy sat in the solicitor’s office. “How is this possible, that I was unaware of Aunt Jane’s fortune?”

  The solicitor smiled. “Apparently, your Aunt Jane’s three-times-great-aunt, Anise Darcy, bequeathed the deed and money down each generation. Anise was, however, very specific that the money went to you, Miss Bennet.”

  Elizabeth and Darcy looked at each other in shock; they both were astonished. “Impossible,” she whispered. So many thoughts popped into her mind; she did the math in her head—that would mean that she was her aunt’s and mother’s fourth-great-grandmother. The concept of trying to figure it out made her dizzy. Darcy, in tune with her discomfort, placed his hand on hers to calm her down from the shock of it all. She began to hyperventilate. Darcy was concerned. “Darling, let us take a break and get some air.”

  “Yes, please. Mr. Gray, please excuse us. This is all a shock.” She was thankful for the distraction. Despite the cold chill, she was flustered and weak. Darcy was by her side; his warmth comforted her, though a whoosh of air caused her to grip the collar of her jacket closer to her neck. She needed a sense of security and something tangible to make sure she was not dreaming. She squinted into the sky, willing an answer to present itself.

  Darcy was just as shocked at the fact that Anise had survived and managed to procure a will and a safety net for future generations. He was becoming uncomfortable in Elizabeth’s silence. He wanted to make sure she was all right. He brought her closer to him and kissed the top of her head. “Darling, I know all of this is a shock; however, we have proof that Anise lived a long and prosperous life, and she made sure all the Bennet women were taken care of. I think she knew that you were right all along, that you belonged in this world, and not in hers. She was very perceptive. She wanted to make sure you were taken care of.”

  Elizabeth was holding back so many tears and feelings. Darcy spun her around, and she buried her head in his jacket. She still could not believe he was real either. It had been surreal that this was happening to her. She was happy that she had found love, yet she was saddened to lose a daughter. She felt guilty that Anise lived without parents, and she wondered who had taken care of her. If she could, she would thank them a thousand times.

  Darcy could always read Elizabeth’s mind. “Darling, Anise is not gone, she is with us in spirit, and she is our guardian angel. I do believe she protected you from that terrible fire and brought me to you. I did not mention this before, but I was driving around aimlessly on the verge of coming to see you. I was worried about what Charles might do to you. My mind was on autopilot, and whilst driving I saw a woman and child on the side of the road, beside a car that was on fire. When I pulled over they disappeared, and you were slumped behind the wheel.”

  She began to cry; no words would form. She took a deep breath, wiped away her tears, and took Darcy by the hand.

  “Let us go back in and finish up business and go home. I am starving, and I want to get into my pajamas and Netflix binge.”

  He smiled. “Netflix binging sounds good right about now. How about some ice cream to go along with it?”

  “Now you’re talking my language.” Elizabeth laughed.

  Mr. Gray greeted them back, and they went over the deed and other pertinent information. “I cannot give you all the money at once, but I can give you a sizeable amount at the moment. The rest will be deposited into your checking account.” Once the check was in her hands, she was actually happy. She could quit her job. “One more thing; Jane did have a private jet she insisted you have. She also has a pilot.”

  Elizabeth grinned. How convenient, she thought. This was all too good to be true. Darcy and Elizabeth were thrilled. They shook Mr. Gray’s hand and left to go back to Darcy’s home.

  “Well, isn’t that convenient that Aunt Jane has a private jet and pilot?” Elizabeth said.
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  Darcy kissed her. “Yes, indeed, it is as if your aunt knew we would need it. I am excited to go back home. As much as I have enjoyed America, I would love to set foot back in England.”

  Elizabeth giggled. “Is America beneath you, Mr. Darcy? Are we too common for you?” She jokingly poked him.

  Darcy snickered and tickled her. “But of course, Mrs. Darcy; these commoners are completely beneath me.”

  Two weeks later, once everything was taken care of and Elizabeth had quit her job and said goodbye to her family and friends, they were off to Pemberley. The private jet was more than she bargained for. It was like flying in Air Force One; it was extremely upscale from her experience on any airline she had flown. Darcy was not faring very well and had to take Dramamine. He slept most of the flight. The flight from New York to Pemberley was close to nine hours. Darcy was groggy and vexed by the time they arrived home. However, they were surprised with the warm welcome from the staff on short notice. Elizabeth was pleased to see it was staffed properly, and they were greeted as royalty. Elizabeth had called ahead of time to employ staff for the manor.

  The maid and butler ushered them in and took care of taking their belongings to their room. Dinner was announced, to be served in an hour, which gave them time to shower and change clothes. Darcy took Elizabeth’s arm in his, and they both toured Pemberley. He was at ease and overjoyed to be home. Elizabeth turned to face him. “Welcome home, Mr. Darcy.” She kissed him on the cheek.

  “It is good to be home, Mrs. Darcy.” He kissed her gently on the lips.

  “There is no other place I would rather be.” She smiled. “It has taken me centuries to find a home, and you.” He kissed her nose and led her down the hall. It was as if it had never changed since she last saw it. She stopped in mid-step; she was completely shocked, and she pointed to a painting. “Look, it is a family portrait of us. Also, of Anise and her family.” She tried not to cry. “Oh my God, that is Aunt Jane with Anise.”