by A K Madison
“Hill,” she said quietly. “Would you be good enough to bring my salts, and perhaps a glass of water?” Lydia went immediately to her mother and drew off her bonnet and gloves, loosening the neck of her gown and finding her fan.
“What has happened?” cried Elizabeth. “Mama, Uncle Philips, whatever is the matter?”
“Only that hateful, miserable man,” retorted Lydia angrily. “He insulted us. He threatened Mama. He said dreadful things right in the street, right in front of the milliner’s shop, and in front of other people. I would like to kill him!” Hill brought the water and the salts, and Lydia gave both to her mother.
“I think some hot, strong tea would help, Mrs. Hill,” said Mary, who stood with Elizabeth and Darcy. Kitty also stood nearby, as still as a statue, with tears flowing unchecked.
“Mama, would you like to retire to your room?” asked Lydia. “I will help you.”
“I believe I will lie down. Do not worry, everyone. I am not going to allow that little pismire to drag me into one of my hysterical spasms. I simply wish to lie down for a while. Brother Philips, will you please tell Darcy and Elizabeth what has happened? Lydia, you stay here. Kitty and Mary, will you come with me?”
Lydia began without preamble as soon as her mother had gone upstairs. “We were standing outside the milliner’s shop. Mr. Collins came hurrying up to Mama and shouted that as head of the family he would not permit us to exhibit ourselves about the town when we ought to be in a state of mourning. He attempted to force us into his own carriage, Lizzy! He did, and when Mama refused to go, and told him he was not the head of the family, he threatened us. He said that he would gain control of us in some sort of court in London, and that if we failed to obey him now, he would turn us out to fend for ourselves and keep Mama’s fortune. Then he said that Lizzy in particular would be punished for her insubordination.”
Lydia accepted a cup of tea from Mrs. Hill before continuing. “Mr. Darcy, he spouted some sort of nonsense about your marriage to my sister not being ‘sanctioned,’ and said that when it was rendered null and void, she would be dishonored. What on earth was he talking of?”
“Of nothing, Miss Lydia. Of absolutely nothing. He cannot legally harm you, your sisters, or your mother, and there are ways to stop him.”
“I say, let him come here,” Lydia’s voice shook with anger. “I would soon set him straight. Imagine his trying to frighten us like that. He needs to be put to rights.”
Darcy held up a hand. “Do not antagonize him, Miss Lydia. He will be dealt with, never fear.”
Uncle Philips spoke up. “You girls go up and see to your mother. I should like to talk with Mr. Darcy.”
Elizabeth stood, somewhat reluctantly, and said, “You gentlemen may be more comfortable in the library. I will ask Mrs. Hill to bring in some refreshments.”
Once the two men were settled in the library, Mr. Philips spoke without reservation. “Mr. Darcy, I thought the man was unhinged. But I do not believe that to be the case. He is stupid, and he is evil, and the combination is fraught with peril for anyone who stands in his way.”
“Lydia’s account seemed straightforward. Did you see the whole thing, Mr. Philips?”
“Our house is a little further down the street, away from the merchants. But his shouts could be heard clearly from the front parlor. My wife came running into my office and begged me to intervene. I arrived just as he was making a grab for Fanny’s arm to compel her to enter his carriage. As if the girls would have stood still and waited. Her footman intervened, and Collins did not come near her. He began to rant and rave that he was the head of the family and that he could compel her to comply with his wishes.” Philips stood, replenished his tea, and began to pace.
“Lydia’s description of the rest of the incident was accurate. He spoke—loudly and clearly, I might add—of his plans to gain control of the family, including my sister’s fortune. He threatened Lizzy with dire ruin because of her ‘unsanctioned’ marriage to you. And he did this within sight and earshot of virtually the entire village of Meryton. Merchants, laborers, servants picking up the post, ladies from the circulating library. Everyone heard him. The blessing is that he is universally despised.”
“And you did not summon the constables.”
“No, I did not, though several people offered to fetch them. My concern was for poor Fanny and the girls. They had endured enough humiliation at his hands. Despite the fact that the entire town supported them, Collins made them a public spectacle.” Philips paused and looked around himself. “How I would relish a smoke.”
Darcy stood and pointed to the door that led from the library into the garden.
“Lydia and the other girls may not be aware that Sir Henry Martin, of whom you have already heard, arrived on the scene after I had settled everyone in the carriage. He scolded Collins like a common schoolboy. It was magnificent, and Collins turned the color of a beetroot. Perhaps that will help, though it may cause more resentment.
“Let us hope it does not somehow set him off. I would prefer to think that it had some benefit. Darcy shook his head. “I see that the carriage and driver are still waiting out front for you, Mr. Philips. Please avail yourself of it to take you home.” The two men shook hands, and Mr. Philips left in the carriage.
Darcy returned to the house to find that the ladies, including Mrs. Bennet, were gathered once more in the parlor.
“I could not rest, knowing what that man has done—what he is doing—to my girls, especially Lizzy. This morning’s experience, not even twenty-four hours after his invasion of our home last night, has awakened a terrible fear, Mr. Darcy.” Mrs. Bennet paused. “I am determined to meet it head-on, sir, and not to fall back into my old ways. I cannot lie on my bed and pretend to rest whilst he is doing Heaven knows what to make their lives miserable.” Tears came to her eyes, and she dashed them away with her handkerchief.
Darcy sent Elizabeth a speaking glance and pulled up a chair next to Mrs. Bennet’s. He took her hand in his. “I know this is difficult to believe, Mrs. Bennet. But you need fear nothing. I beg you will not worry too much over this. Your fears are natural and just. However, Elizabeth is of age, and our marriage contract is signed and sealed. Neither Collins nor his erstwhile patroness Lady Catherine, nor the King himself can do anything to prevent our lawful marriage. As for you and your three daughters still at home, I shall speak with Mr. Philips about placing this in the hands of my solicitors in London. I shall also communicate with my uncle. You are not friendless or unprotected, Mrs. Bennet.”
Darcy turned to Elizabeth. “Now, on to pleasanter subjects. Did we not have a dinner invitation to deliver, Elizabeth?”
“Indeed, we did. What say you, Mama, to an informal family dinner this evening at Netherfield?”
“It sounds lovely.”
Darcy stood. “I must get back now. I will deliver your acceptance to Mrs. Bingley, and Bingley and I will call for you a half-hour ahead of time. Will you be all right, Mrs. Bennet?”
“Oh, yes, Mr. Darcy. I shall not let thoughts of him distress me any further today. And I thank you.”
Elizabeth was able to convince her mother to rest for the remainder of the afternoon, and the ladies were ready when their escorts arrived. Their trip up the lane was quickly accomplished, and Jane was there to greet them at the door. “Mr. Emerson will be joining us this evening,” said Jane. “He has returned to his cottage to dress.”
When the ladies rose after dinner, it was apparent that Mrs. Bennet had something on her mind. She drew her eldest and only married daughter aside for a whispered conversation. Whatever was said, it was obvious that Jane had answered her mother in the negative. Nevertheless, Mrs. Bennet kept a sharp eye on Jane even after the gentlemen rejoined them in the drawing-room.
Chapter 22
“I don’t have to warn you to be a good girl, do I, Elizabeth?” Cook gave her a sharp look over the rims of her spectacles.
“No, Mrs. Walsh. I shall comport myself as a lady in e
very way,” Elizabeth replied with a smile.
“Have a good time, child.” Cook handed her a basket filled with fruit, fresh rolls, ham, and carrots for the horses.
Elizabeth waved and walked up the path at the side of the cottage in the early-morning stillness. She was wearing her riding-habit, which had been patched, taken in, let out, hemmed up, and let down many times in its long career. The last time she could recall anyone wearing it had been Jane’s ill-fated trip through the rain to Netherfield, the visit that had brought on her cold and led to such momentous changes in the Bennet family history. Elizabeth hoped that nothing quite that momentous would occur today; nevertheless, she was looking forward to a gallop across the fields on Noor with Darcy by her side.
It was not long before she heard hoofbeats, and Darcy appeared, splendidly mounted on Sirdar and leading the lovely Noor. Elizabeth ran forward, and both horses nickered and snorted in greeting. “I hardly know whom to greet first,” she laughed, with a quick kiss for Darcy and an apple for each horse. “These are the last of the apples from last fall, and I am glad we have such lovely horses to appreciate them,” she said.
“I shall anticipate my greeting a little later,” said Darcy. He took the basket and placed it in a large bag on his saddle, then tossed Elizabeth easily into her saddle. Before long, they had left the lane and were flying, side by side, across one of the open meadows that lay between Netherfield and Longbourn. Darcy’s bride-to-be enchanted him, and he fell back slightly so that he could admire her. She sat the lovely mare so easily, her posture perfect, her hands light and deft on the reins. Her face was hidden by her bonnet, but he knew it would be flushed and glowing, and that her fine eyes would be brightened by the exercise. When they had ridden across several fields, he pointed ahead to a small grove of trees at the edge of a stream, and they made for it. Darcy was down in a moment, turning to assist Elizabeth. His hands had been fairly aching to be about her waist, and while he was a perfect gentleman while helping her down, he allowed himself to enjoy sensing the point on her body where slender waist curved out to womanly hips.
He removed his hands as soon as she was on the ground, as was proper, but each of them looked at the other, tongue-tied. It was obvious that both had liked the contact, that both wanted more, and that each was afraid of just where they might be led.
Elizabeth broke the silence. Blushing furiously, she replaced his hands where they had been and whispered, “I like the way your hands feel on me when they are just there.” This should have come as no surprise. They were large, strong hands, and not only did they almost span her waist, but they covered her form almost up to the sides of her breasts. Small wonder the touch gave her pleasure.
Darcy, sick with longing, looked down at her. He had only to move his thumbs, and he would be touching—caressing—those lovely breasts. “Fitzwilliam,” he heard her whisper. “I can refuse you no wish. I love your touch.” He squeezed his eyes shut, then looked at her face, seeing the tangle of emotions there. He could trace both innocence and desire in her features, and the sight left him breathless.
“Lizzy, we cannot do this. We have but a short time more to wait.” His voice was rough as he took his hands away from her waist and used them to pull her more closely to him.
Elizabeth leaned forward and kissed him gently. “How and when did you become so wise, Mr. Darcy? It will be worth the wait.”
“I am not at all wise. I am foolish and weak, and I need you.” He kissed her somewhat more roughly than was his habit, and it was she who gentled the kiss, making it softer and sweeter until they could break apart at last.
“It will not be long, Fitzwilliam. For a handful of days, we will remember our agreement to take care of each other in this fashion.” She laid her head comfortably on his shoulder. “Now, let us see if our breakfast rolls are still fit to eat, and even before that, let us water these poor horses.” Darcy said nothing but smiled and took both horses to lead them to the stream. “And watch out, Fitzwilliam. This side of the stream is part of Netherfield, but it marks the division between Mr. Bingley’s land and that of Longbourn.”
“So, this is the ‘bourne’ of Longbourn?”
“As far as I know, it is.”
“I shall be certain to stay on this side of it, then.”
Elizabeth found a fallen log and set out the contents of their basket, finding the rolls still deliciously warm and filled with generous slices of ham. They sat together on the log and ate. Their talk fell to the prospect of spending most of the summer at Pemberley.
Darcy took to playing with some grapes from their basket, alternately eating one and feeding one to Elizabeth. When he fed her one that he held between his lips, Elizabeth said nothing but pushed playfully at his shoulder and held up her face for a kiss. They stayed in each other’s arms for some timeless interval, saying nothing, each drawing comfort from the other. Their earlier passion was still there, somewhere below the surface, but both of them felt calm and relaxed, and both drifted into a light, restful slumber. They might have been that way an hour when they heard Sirdar’s whicker. His ear swiveled forward toward the stream, and he stood listening quietly before he resumed eating.
Darcy laughed and went to pet his horse’s neck. “And what is bothering you, old friend? Do you and your lady friend desire another gallop?” He assisted Elizabeth to rise, and Noor ambled over to join the group. The two human beings gathered the remains of their feast, tidied each other’s hair and faces, and Darcy put his lady up into her saddle before mounting Sirdar. They rode slowly from the clearing, hand in hand, and broke into a gallop when they reached the open field.
✽✽✽
From across the stream, Collins regarded the departing couple with a deep scowl as he wiped the perspiration from his face. He had been out walking the boundaries of his land—a long, tedious process since he did not ride—and he had seen them brazenly pawing at each other, kissing, and doing Heaven knew what else before they finally fell asleep. Although he could not hear their conversation, he had not dared to move from his hiding place for almost an hour. Even now, he felt urgent stirrings in his loins. That Elizabeth Bennet was a delectable piece. Brazen, but delectable. That tiny waist, that ample bosom with its creamy, delicious mounds. Those curving hips, and the backside that went with them. And he could only imagine the thighs. He wiped his face again. It was plain she had used her arts and allurements, just as Lady Catherine had said, to lure Darcy to his fate. His dear Charlotte had never shirked her wifely duties, and their activities had borne fruit. But she was thin and bony where that hussy was plush and richly endowed. He sighed deeply. These days, of course, he needed to repress his natural desires for the sake of the expected son and heir. Thank Heaven his esteemed patroness—former patroness—had spoken frankly to him about the duties and behavior of a gentleman. He would survive, somehow, until his dear Charlotte was safely delivered and had been duly and properly churched.
Another sigh escaped him. He supposed, after this morning’s disgraceful performance, that he had better write to his esteemed patroness and admit defeat. He had done his best, and it might be that Darcy was well and truly snared. But wait! He closed his eyes in thought. The godless pair had not done the wicked deed itself. There had been no consummation, and he had been especially watchful. Perhaps the noble Darcy was not yet entirely ensnared. At this juncture, Collins was sweating so hard he felt compelled to remove his jacket. His armpits were soaked through. He wiped his face again.
No, he would not write to the esteemed Lady Catherine. He would keep his own counsel. He sat down on the log where he had been hiding. His breeches seemed uncommonly tight, and he mopped his brow again as he reflected on his plan. Perhaps if the shameless doxy were soiled—sullied, as it were. No, not perhaps. Certainly, at that juncture she would be rejected by Darcy as too impure, too dirty an object for his immaculate marriage-bed. That was it. And rather than committing a grievous sin, he, William Collins, would be acting as Heaven’s own agent to protect
the purity of the Fitzwilliam and Darcy bloodlines from this—this devilish interloper, this succubus, this—ahh, those thighs which he had only imagined in his wildest dreams. That luscious backside. That bosom. Ahh.
A few moments later, Collins opened his eyes, vaguely aware that he had dirtied himself. His handkerchief was cold and damp, soaked with sweat, and when he had used it to clean up the mess, he folded it distastefully and hid it beneath a rock. There were insects and worms beneath the rock, but he ignored them, and when he was satisfied that no traces remained on his hands or his breeches, he stood and began to walk back to the house. It was only then that he allowed himself to consider the other reward offered by his generous benefactress. Five thousand pounds, already in his hands. At least he would be spared the pain of having to return it. He had not heard from the illustrious Lady Catherine in some weeks, and he sincerely hoped that signaled her approval of his actions with regard to Darcy and the Bennet chit.
He had been mortified at the public chastisement by Sir Henry Martin on the street in Meryton. Yes, the man was due all courtesy because of his rank. He was a baronet after all. But baronet or no, justice of the peace or no, he had no right to interfere in the private affairs of Collins and his family. The erstwhile parson was well aware of the anger of the people in Meryton who had witnessed his conversation with Martin as well as his interaction with Mrs. Bennet and his other female relations. He was embarrassed by what he heard them saying. He resolved to prevail over all of them. Was he not entitled to respect due to his position as gentleman and landowner, not to mention man of the cloth? Did they not know that he had been the protégé of one of the most illustrious ladies in all England? They would be put in their places soon enough when Lady Catherine de Bourgh got wind of what was happening and came to his defense. He continued at a steady pace toward Longbourn, though he was quite winded. Perhaps he should use some of his new-found fortune to acquire a horse and learn to ride it.