by Head, Gail
“How dare you accuse me of such nonsense! I care nothing for George Wickham or you!”
“Mr. Wickham laid a very careful plan to take me away against my will. A plan which he could not have accomplished without resources from someone of greater standing. Indeed, the very carriage that he used was well beyond his means. I had supposed it was Lord Grissholm who had paid the expense for the whole scheme; but when he died, and Wickham came for me again, I knew it could not be the viscount. I now know that it was you – all along.”
Lady Catherine stiffened, her eyes casting a murderous glare at Elizabeth. “How dare you accuse me! You have no proof!”
“That is where you are wrong, Lady Catherine. Mr. Wickham clearly had enough money to execute his vile plans a second time, and he boasted that he would retire with a much greater reward that was to be granted upon my death. Someone was willing to pay him most handsomely for my murder!”
“That proves nothing! Anyone could have provided Wickham with a carriage and money!”
“Yes, any number of persons could have,” Elizabeth replied, smiling at Lady Catherine's blunder. “But I wonder how many of them possess a carriage whose cushions are embroidered with the initials “LdB”? You see, Mr. Wickham sent just such a carriage to my house last June to take me away, and then used that very same carriage in his attempt to murder me.”
Lord Matlock looked at his sister with growing alarm. “Catherine?”
“Stop it! Stop it, I say! I will not listen to another word of this preposterous lie!”
Elizabeth ignored the woman's hysterical cries as she followed her thoughts to the now obvious conclusion. “You, Lady Catherine, have the resources and the carriages. The cushions of the carriage Mr. Wickham used bore the initials “LdB”. I would wager they stand for Lewis de Bourgh. If there is any doubt, perhaps his lordship would care to examine the wreckage? I am certain there is still enough of it left to identify its ownership.”
“Lies! All lies, and you shall pay for it!”
Before anyone knew what she was about, Lady Catherine flew at Elizabeth with her cane. Elizabeth only had time to raise her arm in defense before the cane came crashing down on her. In the next instant, Lord Matlock was at her side, blocking the next blow with his own arm. “Catherine! Enough! Do you hear me? Enough of this foolishness!”
“No!” the woman screamed uncontrollably. “You do not know how cunning and deceitful the girl is, but I do! We must be rid of her for Darcy's sake. Elizabeth Bennet must die! She must die!”
Elizabeth stepped back out of reach of the cane as it swung in her direction once more. The others looked on in horror as Lord Matlock struggled to constrain his sister. She slashed wildly again and again, no longer caring who became the recipient of her wrath. After bearing the brunt of several more strikes, the earl finally managed to subdue her.
Horrified at the revelation of his sister's treachery and her violent outburst, Lord Matlock struggled to find the right words. “I regret the trouble we have caused you, Miss Bennet. I see that my son Richard may have been right in his estimation of you after all. I do hope we shall meet again under more favorable circumstances. Mr. Bingley, please accept my apologies for our intrusion. I do not believe we shall stay any longer. Doctor, if you will assist me, I shall take my sister to the carriage.”
Any hope that the spectacle was at an end proved to be in vain. Lady Catherine did not go with her brother willingly or quietly. The ranting cries echoed down the hallway as Lord Matlock fairly dragged her out of the room and toward their waiting carriage.
“Let go of me, you fool! We cannot let her escape. She has ruined all my dreams and she must pay! She must pay!”
When the cries finally faded, Bingley coughed nervously. “I am sorry for that. Are you well, Miss Bennet?”
Sweeping a stray curl back into her hair, Elizabeth sank into a nearby chair, grateful for the support her legs could no longer give her, and let out a relieved sigh. “Yes, I am well enough. I have long known Lady Catherine did not approve of me, but I had no idea the depth of her resentment. I am sorry to bring this upon you, Jane.”
“It is not your fault at all, Lizzy; they came unannounced. But how awful for you to be attacked like that! It was dreadful. I wonder what will happen to her now. Charles, did you know her well?”
“Not at all! I only met her today. From what Darcy says, she has always been somewhat unbending and a little eccentric. I know he had already informed her of his decision not to marry Miss de Bourgh months ago, and I suppose the reminder of his interest in Miss Bennet was a little too much for her.” Bingley turned an accusing eye to Caroline who had been standing silently in the corner of the room since Lady Catherine's violent response to the news of Elizabeth's attending Darcy.
“Do not look at me!” cried Caroline. “I only mentioned it. How was I to know she would turn into a mad woman?”
“No one knew, Caroline; but you did know it would make things uncomfortable for Miss Bennet.”
“If you will recall, brother, I was commending Miss Bennet for her devotion! My efforts to be sisterly are obviously not wanted. All this excitement has given me a headache. If you need me, which I find highly doubtful, I shall be in my rooms!”
With a dramatic flourish, Caroline swept from the room leaving Charles, Jane, and a recovering Elizabeth to stare after her.
“I do apologize,” said Charles. “She can behave better if she chooses, and I have hopes that she will. Otherwise, she shall be sent back to Scarborough. I will not have her upsetting your household, Jane.”
“Perhaps it was an innocent mistake, Charles. It has been a very long day and everyone is on edge.” Her smile to Charles faded a bit as she looked to her sister. “Lizzy, you look so pale. Shall I send for Dr. Lawrence?”
“No, please do not. I am fine. I only have been thinking of Lady Catherine. Such an unforgiving temper that has been the cause of so much misery. Because of her I was cruelly separated from my family for months, our father's state of health suffered horribly, two men are dead, and a woman is gravely injured. I can only hope that it will not continue. Even if she deserves everything her actions have brought upon her, Mr. Darcy's family does not deserve another scandal.”
“I am confident Lord Matlock will be very discreet with his sister. He will make certain there is no danger of scandal in his circles. Jane and I shall have a talk with the servants. Wilson is the only one with any direct knowledge of this affair and he can be trusted to remain silent. The others will be warned against spreading gossip of any kind.”
Elizabeth was also confident in Lord Matlock's ability to contain any gossip. What she did not voice was her worry of how far Lady Catherine had spread her poison among the members of Darcy's family. Lord Matlock had shown the barest of civilities at their meeting. Was the rest of the family against her as well? Hopefully, the discovery of Lady Catherine's treachery would erase whatever prejudice there was and allow them to form an independent opinion of her.
Elizabeth's troubled thoughts were interrupted when Jane placed a gentle arm around her shoulder.
“Lizzy, would you like to rest a little more? Shall I help you to your room?”
“No, Jane, that will not be necessary. I am fine, truly.” With a deep, cleansing breath she rose from her chair and murmured to Jane, “At least we can say that ours is not the only family that can make a spectacle of themselves!”
Leaving her sister and brother to speculate on what fate lay in store for Lady Catherine, Elizabeth felt a surge of relief as she hurried back to the man who had completely captured her heart.
* * * *
Elizabeth tapped lightly on Darcy's door, a maid at her side bearing a tray from the kitchen. Muffled words and hurried footsteps were heard from within before the door was opened and Denham waved the two women into the room. Elizabeth's quick glance toward the bed revealed Darcy was awake and keenly observing her movements.
Trying to busy herself with directions to the maid and
the placement of the tray, Elizabeth hoped the sudden blush on her cheeks would fade before it was time to face him directly. The past three days in which she had been caring for him, he had been either unconscious or delirious; but never awake or fully aware of her presence. The first day had been the hardest for her. Darcy's ashen face and the doctors' grim manner had quickly erased any hopes that Jane's account of his condition had been exaggerated. And when she saw how near death he truly was, she could not bring herself to leave him. Against all persuasion, she insisted on staying at his side as he hovered between life and death. She sat for endless hours, sponging his forehead with cool cloths to soothe the blazing fever and laying on more blankets when he shivered violently with fits of sudden chills. She cared for him night and day, praying passionately in her heart that he would be preserved. What little sleep she had allowed herself was taken in the chair by his bed and more often than not the trays Jane had ordered sent up from the kitchen were returned untouched. Her heart was unalterably intertwined with Darcy's survival and she refused to leave for even a moment lest he should slip away and take it with him.
It had not mattered that she breached all convention by remaining in his room. The only thing she had cared about was his recovery; however, now that he was out of danger, Jane's earlier words began to haunt her. She was finding it difficult to push the thoughts of her wild behavior out of her mind. Would he resent her actions? Would it offend his sense of propriety? He would have every right to condemn her and then she would be ruined. In her heart, she did not believe that to be the case, but even if he did, at least he had survived and she would not regret a single moment she had spent with him.
Looking sideways now, she saw that he was still following her every move. After dismissing the maid and taking as long as she dared to arrange the items on the tray, she took a quick breath, sat down near the bedside and finally looked up at him. The blush she had managed to subdue earlier reappeared the instant he spoke.
“I was beginning to wonder if you were ever going to look at me,” he teased. “It seemed for all the world as if you were deliberately ignoring me.”
“You, sir, are imagining things,” she replied curtly, though her heart was suddenly brimming with relief that his feelings were obviously unchanged. “I was only making sure everything was as Dr. Lawrence ordered. You have been very ill and will need every bit of this to regain your strength.”
“Yes, so Denham tells me. The last thing I remember clearly was handing you down to Bingley at Longbourn.” He struggled to raise himself with his good arm as Elizabeth took a bowl of broth in hand and motioned for Denham's assistance. Once Darcy was in a more upright position with sufficient pillows behind him, he began reaching for the bowl.
Elizabeth instantly pulled back in her chair. “Oh no! You cannot possibly feed yourself with one hand. I shall do the honors.”
“That is ridiculous! I am quite capable of spooning my own broth. You will give me the dish, madam.”
“And have you spill it all over yourself and the bed? I think not.”
Darcy glanced at Denham who had retreated to the far end of the room and was conveniently busy arranging a stack of books.
“Give me that dish! I refuse to be fed like an infant!”
Elizabeth leaned in, keeping the bowl well outside of his reach as she whispered. “I did not have half so much trouble getting your medicine down you! Shall you be changed like an infant when it drops in your lap?” She straightened up and brought the bowl forward, challenge lighting her eyes. “What is it to be, Mr. Darcy?”
Darcy glared stubbornly at Elizabeth, deliberating her equally obstinate response, then dropped his hand and opened his mouth with an impatient huff. For several minutes the two were silent as Elizabeth carefully lifted spoonfuls of broth to his lips without meeting his eyes. At length, she paused to dab his mouth with the napkin and he tenderly claimed her hand with his own.
“I am grateful, you know,” he said in a husky voice that sent a welcome tingle racing through her. “For everything. And, I have a confession to make.”
“A confession, Mr. Darcy?”
“Yes. When you came to Netherfield to care for your sister, I envied her.”
“Jane?” Elizabeth's brow wrinkled in confusion. “You envied Jane?”
“I tried not to, believe me; but you were so thoughtful and caring that I could not help imagining what it would be like to be the recipient of such devoted attention.” His eyes twinkled with a mischievous smile. “I must say my imagination was not half so enjoyable as the real thing!”
Another blush blooming in her cheeks, Elizabeth gently withdrew her hand. “It is Dr. Lawrence you should be thanking, and the surgeon he brought with him. If they had not come as quickly as they did, well…I cannot bear to think what would have happened. Even after all their effort, it was not absolutely certain until this morning that you would recover. These past three days are ones I would never want to live again!”
“Elizabeth, I am very sorry to have caused you so much trouble. And I am sorry I did not keep my promise to visit Longbourn. You must have thought the worst of me when I did not come.”
“On that count, you may rest easy. I received Jane's note summoning me to Netherfield long before there was any time to wonder where you were. It is I who should apologize for bringing this on you in the first place. This is the second time in less than six months that your life has been jeopardized because of me! I cannot forgive myself for endangering you so. What would have happened to Miss Darcy had you not recovered? What must she think of me?”
“I can tell you without any reservation that she adores you,” Darcy assured her as he took her hand again and gently kissed it. “As do I. And when I awoke this afternoon, I decided that I would not wait another day to prove it. Life is too short and there is not a single moment to waste.”
Flustered by the frank and open turn their conversation had taken, Elizabeth's gaze dropped and her heart began to race furiously. Composing herself, she looked back at Darcy who was gesturing to Denham.
“I am ready now. Bring my coat and the box, and help me up.”
“What?!” Elizabeth cried out. “Stop – this minute! You have no business getting out of bed. You must wait until you are stronger.”
“I have waited far too long already.” Darcy waved impatiently at Denham who was hesitating to carry out the order. “Hurry up, man, give me your arm!”
“It is too soon! Please, do not do this!” she begged.
“I must. I have a very particular question to pose and honor prohibits me from asking it while lying on my back.”
Darcy grunted in pain as he pulled himself to the edge of the bed and took the small velvet box from Denham then slipped his good arm into the morning coat the valet held out for him.
Knowing Darcy was determined to do as he pleased in spite of her objections, Elizabeth quickly moved away, turning around to give him privacy as he got up. Nervously she waited, trying to calm her restless hands that embodied the great conflict waging within her. Part of her wanted to push him back into bed where he belonged while the rest of her trembled in anticipation of the question she knew was coming. A question that would forever change her life.
She could hear a good amount of murmurs and posturing going on before she heard Denham move away and then Darcy's voice sounded close behind her.
“Elizabeth?”
She turned to see Darcy kneeling before her, his face pale with the effort it cost him. She thought to beg him once more to return to bed. He had nothing to prove. She knew he did indeed love her and she could wait a day or two; but as he reached for her hand, the thrill of his touch raced through her, stopping the words before they could form.
The velvet box lay in Darcy's other hand that was fettered by his bandages, its lid now open to reveal the contents. In the flickering light from the fire, a delicate gold band glowed softly against the brilliance of five evenly-matched garnets. It was the most beautiful ring she had
ever seen.
The intensity of Darcy's gaze drew her eyes to his and her heart melted at the hopeful, yet cautious expression playing on his face. He was so open, so vulnerable. His deep, penetrating look revealed traces of the boy who had been thrust into the role of master and guardian much too early in life. Elizabeth sighed softly. Here was the one man in all the world that was her perfect match and he was about to offer her a second chance at happiness! Was this really happening? She reached out, touching his cheek to assure herself she was not dreaming, just as a startled cry sounded from the doorway.
Denham had moved hastily to the door and quietly opened it, trying to give his master the privacy that was required; but as he did so, he had inadvertently surprised Caroline Bingley who was now standing in the doorway with an embarrassed smile. She opened her mouth to speak, and then her eyes grew wide with horror as she took in the scene of Darcy kneeling before Elizabeth, ring in hand. For one brief moment Caroline stared slack-jawed, and then her eyes rolled back in her head as she began to fall. Denham jumped to catch her, but was too late. Darcy, Elizabeth, and Denham all flinched at the loud thud that reverberated down the corridor as she hit the floor.
“It seems the young lady is overcome with joy, sir,” Denham announced calmly as he stepped into the hallway and reached back to close the door. “I shall summon her maid right away.”
The door closed with a quiet click.
Elizabeth bit her lip to keep from laughing outright as she turned back to Darcy, instantly alarmed when she saw his hand covering his face and his shoulders shaking.
“What is it?!” she cried in a panic, then sighed in relief as Darcy dropped his hand and she saw that he was only struggling to contain his own laughter
“Of all the people to discover us,” he grinned at her, “what horrid luck!”
“Yes, poor Miss Bingley. She is a great admirer of yours – and a very determined woman. I do hope she is all right.”
“Denham will make sure she is taken care of. At the moment, there is only one woman whose admiration I desire.” Darcy's grin faded to a soft smile as he gazed into her eyes with an intensity that took her breath away. “One who is beautiful, and headstrong, and stubborn, and lively, and engaging, and warm, and passionate. One with the courage to refuse me because I am less than the man I should be, and then inspire me to become that man. I had thought never to find such a woman to whom I could give my heart completely – until now. You are that woman, my dearest, loveliest Elizabeth. You mean more to me than life itself and I cannot bear the thought of being in this world without you by my side. Will you marry me?”