The Secrets of Darcy and Elizabeth: A Pride and Prejudice Variation

by Victoria Kincaid

  Before Darcy had time to react, Wickham pulled out his other pistol, although his hands were shaking with the effort. Darcy tried to shoot, but his gun only fizzed and popped. A misfire! He dove to the floor as he heard Wickham’s pistol go off. The shot went wild and buried in the wall. “Damn you, Darcy!” Wickham shouted as he staggered upright and threw one leg over the sill of the open window.

  He must not escape! Darcy thought, but Wickham, dividing his attention between the window and Darcy, had lost track of Fitzwilliam. Prowling around the edge of the room, the Colonel pounced, knocking Wickham’s gun to the floor. Darcy crossed the room in two strides and grabbed hold of the front of Wickham’s shirt, dragging him back into the room. Once Wickham was leaning back on the window frame, Fitzwilliam slammed the window closed – only then did Darcy indulge himself by landing a resounding punch on Wickham’s jaw. He folded to the floor.

  Darcy took an extra pistol that Colonel Fitzwilliam offered and pointed down at Wickham’s head. His whole body was shaking with rage. “I would love to have a reason to shoot you.”

  “I yield! Damn, Darcy, don’t kill me!” Wickham looked exhausted and greatly aggrieved. As he clutched his wounded shoulder, bright red blood oozed out between his fingers, but his terrified eyes were fixed on Darcy.

  Darcy hauled Wickham up by the neck of his shirt, his face only inches from Wickham’s. “If you ever touch my wife again – If you ever talk to her again – If you ever glance in her direction again – I will kill you!”

  Wickham’s eyes went wide. “Your wife? I didn’t—“

  Darcy’s fist connected resoundingly with Wickham’s stomach. Wickham fell back, hitting his head on the sill, and slumping to the floor, unconscious. Darcy stood over the man, breathing hard. Fitzwilliam grabbed his arm to keep him from hitting Wickham again, but Darcy felt his fury dissipate as he realized the threat from Wickham had ended.

  Fitzwilliam stepped out of the room to descend the stairs and talk with their men downstairs. When he returned to the room, Darcy was tying Wickham’s hands together using the man’s own discarded cravat. “Our men have secured the downstairs. They captured Wickham’s men – one was knocked out and the other is tied up. None of our people were hurt. They are preparing to deliver those two to the jail. Do you want them to take Wickham too?”

  Darcy gazed at their captive in disgust. “Not yet. I suppose we should get a doctor for his shoulder. Send a man for one and have someone come up and guard Wickham. Have them notify me when Wickham is awake. I have some questions for him; there is more to this story than it first appears.”

  Fitzwilliam nodded slowly. “I am afraid you are right.”

  After a man arrived to take charge of Wickham, Darcy bounded up the stairs to the attic bedroom. Preston was standing in front of the door, but gave way quickly to Darcy, who encouraged the soldier to go downstairs and help with the mopping up. Before he opened the door, Elizabeth rushed out. “I was so worried Wickham would kill you!” She flung her arms around his neck.

  “I am all right, my love,” he assured her. With a strength he had not known she possessed, Elizabeth pulled him into the attic room, pressing him up against the cracked plaster of the wall and kissing him with an eagerness that rendered him breathless. “I should rescue you more often,” he said after she finally released his lips.

  “I am certain there will be no need!” Elizabeth said emphatically. Then she leaned into him once more for another demanding kiss.

  Half an hour later, Darcy, Fitzwilliam, and Elizabeth were sitting in the home’s small parlor. The Bow Street Runners had taken away the two hired ruffians, while some of the soldiers were upstairs guarding Wickham as the doctor treated him. Darcy had drawn Elizabeth into his lap as he sat on the room’s rather worn overstuffed loveseat and Elizabeth leaned into his chest, reassured by the warmth of his presence. It had been a long day. Fitzwilliam was seated across from them and the two men were discussing the details of their operation, including how to ensure that Wickham and his cronies were properly prosecuted.

  Silence fell for a moment, only to be broken by Fitzwilliam. “What I do not understand is why Wickham undertook this scheme in the first place,” the Colonel glanced from Darcy to Elizabeth. “As attractive as Mrs. Darcy is, Wickham went to an awful lot of trouble just to seduce a beautiful woman.”

  Darcy nodded. “I have been puzzling over that as well.”

  Elizabeth settled next to Darcy, but he kept his arm about her. “I believe I have some pieces of that puzzle.” First recounting the conversation she had overheard between Wickham and Beecham, she then described the conclusions she had reached. Both men nodded in agreement, but they appeared sickened.

  “Good God!” Darcy exclaimed in a strangled voice when she had finished. “The thought that someone would resort to such actions to ruin your reputation – it is appalling!”

  “What a clever plan,” Fitzwilliam said with disdain. “Your reputation is ruined simply by having spent the night in the wrong house. Clever and disgusting.”

  “Do you believe my conclusions are wrong?” Elizabeth asked.

  Darcy stood and started pacing. “No, unfortunately I believe you are correct in every supposition. The question is: who would do such a thing? Who would hate you that much, desire my hand to that extent, and have the means to pay Wickham? It must have been a handsome sum since he did not demand a ransom from me. He is always one to wring the maximum profit from any situation.”

  Fitzwilliam shook his head sadly. “There is only one probable suspect: Aunt Catherine.”

  Darcy froze in his tracks. “She has the motive and the means,” he looked sickened at the thought. “I would rather find another candidate, but you are right, Richard. She is the likeliest culprit.”

  “Would she do that to her own family? Her nephew—” Elizabeth asked.

  “I am afraid family is the reason she would commit such an act.” Darcy said. “Her misplaced sense of pride and her insistence that I marry Anne. She can be ruthless in achieving her goals. Unfortunately, I can believe she would stoop to this.”

  “She also does not consider you part of the family yet,” Fitzwilliam pointed out to Elizabeth. “It is that eventuality she thinks to prevent.”

  “But does she even know Wickham?” Elizabeth’s expression was perplexed as she rested her head against the faded back of the loveseat.

  Darcy stopped pacing and tightly gripped the back of a wooden chair. “Yes, Wickham would have met her when she visited Pemberley and he knows she wishes me to marry Anne. He must have visited Rosings to warn her about you.”

  “So they concocted this scheme. Wickham seizes the opportunity to seduce Elizabeth and humiliate you – all for a princely sum, and Aunt Catherine assumes that once Elizabeth is ‘ruined,’ you will drop her and go running to Anne.” Fitzwilliam said.

  “How horrible!” Elizabeth said. “To imagine them devising such a plan—”

  Darcy settled onto the loveseat next to her and placed his arms around her. “It is despicable, but they did not succeed. Rather than spending the night in Wickham’s borrowed townhouse, you will spend it with me, your legally wedded husband.”

  Comforted, Elizabeth let her head drop to Darcy’s shoulder. “I wonder who the witnesses are that Lady Catherine arranged,” she murmured.

  Now it was Fitzwilliam’s turn to stand and pace. “I have a horrible suspicion it might be my parents.”

  Darcy’s breath hissed between his teeth. “You think they are involved?”

  “No, not at all,” Fitzwilliam hastened to assure him. “They would never be party to such a scheme. But they would certainly be unimpeachable witnesses – and, more importantly, they would keep quiet. Aunt Catherine is not necessarily seeking to create a scandal; she just wants the threat of disgrace to separate you from Elizabeth.”

  “Your parents would never accept her as my wife if they saw her leave Wickham’s. I would have to choose between her and my family,” Darcy said, shaking h
is head slowly. “It is a clever plan, but my aunt does not understand me at all.” Elizabeth squeezed his hand in acknowledgement of his tacit endorsement.

  “I am certain Aunt Catherine will invent some plausible reason for them to be here at 9 o’clock tomorrow morning.” Fitzwilliam’s pacing was on the verge of wearing a hole in the carpet. “Perhaps she will tell them she ‘has heard tell that Miss Bennet is not quite as virtuous as she appears.’ If they catch you leaving this house in the morning, it certainly will appear that your reputation is compromised.”

  Darcy saw tears welling up in Elizabeth’s eyes and held her close. “Do not worry, my love, we will ensure that any rumors will be crushed.”

  “But how?” Elizabeth asked Darcy. “Even if your aunt and uncle do not see the evidence, Lady Catherine’s insinuations will be enough to poison their opinion of me – which is already tenuous.”

  “Well,” said Fitzwilliam, falling back into his chair. “We simply need to ensure there is nothing here for them to see.”

  “No,” Darcy said. “I have a better idea.”

  The next morning a little before 9 o’clock Darcy and Elizabeth were standing in the foyer of the small town house. They had returned briefly to Darcy House for a change of clothes and a few hours of sleep.

  When first questioned, Wickham had been defiant, but after Darcy outlined their suppositions about the scheme, he had finally admitted that he was working for Lady Catherine. Colonel Fitzwilliam had gleefully taken the prisoner to the jail himself; he had thought Wickham deserved punishment ever since Ramsgate. The soldiers and Bow Street Runners had left and now the house was empty.

  As they waited, Darcy encircled Elizabeth with his arms. His anxiety over her almost-abduction had not completely abated, and he wanted to keep her close. As if reading his mind, she murmured, “I assure you I am fine.”

  “I know, my dearest, but I cannot help being overly protective.” His hold on her tightened. “The thought of losing you – I do not know how I would survive…”

  “I know what you mean,” she said feelingly, “but all is well.” Reassured by his presence, she laid her head on his shoulder, reminding herself that once this business was finished, they could return home and rest.

  He could hear the sounds of a carriage approaching. “It is time,” he murmured to Elizabeth. She smiled mischievously at him and then opened the door. As he stood in the shadows, he could see her clearly illuminated by the bright morning light, and she would be quite visible to anyone on the street. The carriage stopped opposite the house’s door, so Darcy knew it was the one they had been awaiting.

  Time for him to play his part. Darcy reached out his hand and pulled Elizabeth back toward him, so they were both mostly in the shadow of the house’s vestibule. Then he kissed her very thoroughly as she melted into his arms. This was the enjoyable part of their little charade, he thought as he sensed the softness of her lips on his and felt passion coursing through him, almost forgetting they had another purpose at the moment.

  The carriage’s door banged open and he heard his Aunt’s voice declaring, “I tell you, it is Miss Bennet. She spent several weeks in Kent. I would know her anywhere. I knew those rumors were true!” Hearing the note of triumph in her voice, he had to restrain his impulse to denounce her right away.

  At the sound of Lady Catherine’s voice, Elizabeth turned toward the street, while Darcy faded back into the shadows. Nobody on the street could have seen his face. “Lady Catherine! Wh-What are you doing in this part of town?” Darcy admired his wife’s acting skills, she sounded very much like a woman caught misbehaving. Darcy maneuvered himself until he could catch a glimpse through the crack between the door and the frame, and he could see Lady Catherine descending from the carriage. As Richard had predicted, Darcy’s Aunt and Uncle Fitzwilliam were also in the coach. The Earl of Matlock followed his sister out of the carriage.

  Lady Catherine was at her imperious best, striding across the street as if she owned it. Darcy knew she was enjoying every moment of her supposed triumph – putting this “upstart country miss” in her proper place. His anger flared at the thought that she was prepared to ruin Elizabeth’s reputation to serve her own purposes. Well, she would regret it.

  "Who were you kissing there? I saw you!” Lady Catherine bellowed at Elizabeth.

  “K-Kissing?” Elizabeth sounded convincingly anxious, and Darcy knew his aunt would have no trouble believing Elizabeth had been caught with Wickham.

  “Yes, kissing! I demand to know who you have been carrying on with! Who is in that house?” The older woman was glorying in her victory.

  This is the moment, Darcy thought. He walked around the open door and stepped into the doorway. Lady Catherine blinked rapidly and then gaped at him. His uncle drew level with his sister on the sidewalk and gazed up the steps – his face revealing less shock than confusion. “You have caught me, Aunt. I am afraid it is my bad judgment that has provoked this incident.” Darcy said, hoping his tone sounded more embarrassed than angry.

  “Darcy!” His Uncle Fitzwilliam exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

  “Elizabeth and I came to visit a former servant from Darcy House. Mrs. Clement is sick and we thought to cheer her up.” Darcy said, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. He and Elizabeth descended the steps to the street and drew level with his relatives. “She had been kind enough to visit Mrs. Clement without me, but this time I had the chance to accompany her.” There. That would account for any tales his aunt had spun about witnesses seeing Elizabeth leaving this house previously.

  “Your – former servant – lives here?” Lady Catherine asked, bewildered.

  “Indeed,” Darcy gave her a level look. He knew she dared not contradict him without revealing that she knew whose house it truly was, so he turned an amiable smile on his uncle. “What are you three doing going for a ride at this time of day?”

  Now his uncle appeared rather embarrassed, and Darcy rather enjoyed seeing him attempt to devise a reason for their presence. They could hardly admit they hoped to discover their nephew’s love displaying her debauched behavior. “Umm… Catherine thought to show us a faster way to get to Hyde Park from our town house…but it seems rather roundabout to me. I do not believe we shall use it again.” Guilt was written all over his face and he was gazing everywhere but at Darcy. Still, he had to admire his uncle’s quick wits.

  His Aunt Alice had emerged from the carriage by now and had joined the others, eyeing Darcy with frank disapproval. “Fitzwilliam, your father would be ashamed of you! Such wanton behavior! And practically on the street!”

  Darcy attempted to appear appropriately chagrined. “I apologize for my breach in conduct. You are absolutely correct.” Elizabeth glanced down at her feet, red staining her cheeks. While he had not minded, she was probably genuinely embarrassed about being caught kissing in public – even though that had been part of the plan.

  Now that the initial shock was over, his uncle had recovered his sense of propriety. “You have compromised the young lady. You must do right by her!”

  Lady Catherine opened her mouth to object, saw Darcy’s murderous expression, and closed it again. Darcy put his arm around Elizabeth’s waist. “No actually I do not.” He rather enjoyed the shock on his aunt and uncle’s faces. “You see, we have something to tell you—”

  Lady Catherine could contain herself no longer. “You cannot get engaged to this woman. It is unsupportable!” She bellowed.

  “Your opinion on this match has been sufficiently expressed,” Darcy leveled his gaze at her until she looked away. “In any event, your concern is misplaced,” Darcy continued. “I wish to explain that we are not announcing our engagement; we are already married.”

  “Married!” Aunt Alice cried. Lady Catherine appeared so horrified Darcy thought she might have a seizure in the street.

  “Yes, we actually were married in France a month ago, but Elizabeth’s father asked us to delay the announcement.” Darcy strove to keep h
is tone casual, but felt a glimmer of triumph when he gazed at Lady Catherine’s scandalized face.

  “Indeed!” Uncle Fitzwilliam sounded more surprised than dismayed. “You have been married this whole time?”

  “Yes,” Darcy regarded Aunt Alice. “So I fear that any attempt to persuade me to consider any other women has been wasted effort. I apologize.” There was a long pause while Darcy’s relatives considered this information. Lady Alice was regarding Darcy in shock, while his uncle was watching her to see her reaction.

  Lady Catherine was the first to recover her voice. “Marriage in France? I am certain it could be annulled! You could escape this trap she has laid for you.”

  Darcy experienced a rush of rage, but attempted to restrain it. Shouting at his aunt on a public street would only damage the family’s relationships. “The wedding was performed by a Church of England priest with all due ceremony and we have no desire to have it annulled.”

  After a brief pause, Aunt Alice took a step toward Darcy, regarding him with an ironic gleam in her eye. “Well, this was quite impulsive of you, Fitzwilliam – and I must say I regret wasting my matchmaking efforts on you. But I enjoyed your Elizabeth’s company at dinner the other night. You could have done far worse.” She turned to Elizabeth with a warm smile. “Welcome to the family, my dear.” Darcy sighed with relief at the sign that his aunt had bowed to the inevitable.

  “Thank you.” Elizabeth responded with a heartfelt smile. Lady Catherine did not appear disposed to follow her sister-in-law’s example, but instead glared at Darcy.

  Darcy’s uncle shook his head. “Apparently you are as impulsive as your father when you set your mind to it.” He said finally. “Congratulations to both of you!” After contemplating them in bemusement for a minute, he announced: “As interesting as all these revelations are, I would like to continue on to Hyde Park before it the day grows too warm.” He offered his wife his arm.