by Linda Wells
“I … it takes practice, as anything does.” He clutched her to him and they held each other for several long moments. “I wish that I could sleep with you tonight.” He whispered in her ear.
“Keep wishing.” She whispered back.
Darcy drew away and gazed at her. “What do you have planned?”
She smiled. “You will see.”
He pulled her back in his arms and kissed her forehead. “My God, I love you.”
Elizabeth drew his face down and smiled into his eyes. “As I love you.” Their lips met tenderly, until Darcy drew away to rest his forehead against hers.
“I am surprised that we are left alone like this so long.” He whispered in her hair.
“You have no idea the expression on your face when you came in here.”
He closed his eyes as the emotion rushed over him again and he swallowed down the pain. “If we are to meet the ladies we should go.”
“Will you help me down the stairs?” Darcy swept her up into his arms. “I will carry you as the treasure you are.”
Elizabeth shook her head and smiled. “I am not a helpless damsel, sir.”
“You most certainly are not, and I am grateful for it.” Darcy stepped to the door, and Elizabeth turned the key. He kissed her again, then opened the door to go and repair the damage.
RICHARD WEARILY climbed the steps to his chambers in Netherfield. He was told that Bingley and Hurst were in the study and he informed the butler he would join them as soon as he washed and changed. His batman was ready for him, and skipping the bath he deeply desired, he washed as thoroughly as he could with a basin of hot water and donned a fresh uniform. Glancing at his reflection, he saw nothing different about his face besides an obvious need for sleep. He had killed before and would likely kill again someday; there was nothing new to see there.
He knocked and entered the study and was greeted warmly by the other men. “What news have you Fitzwilliam?” Bingley asked eagerly while pouring him a drink.
“Nothing significant, Wickham will be buried in a far corner of the churchyard. He was not convicted of a crime so they will accept his body, but the grave will be unmarked, and no service will be said over him. They already looked through his belongings … it is fortunate that he has no known relatives else they would be liable for over five hundred pounds in debts of honour that he leaves behind. Colonel Forster is going to total up what he owes the merchants … I will not be surprised if Darcy pays those debts himself.”
“Why? They are not his.” Hurst asked.
Richard smiled slightly. “Darcy has spent nearly his entire adult life cleaning up after the man. I can bet that he will see this as an obligation. His father created the monster by giving Wickham a good taste of a life he could never support, and by indulging him almost as a pet to anger his estranged wife. Why he continued the practice after her death, I will never understand. Perhaps he saw something in Wickham that he had crushed in Darcy. If he had stopped then and given his attention to his own son … well, it is useless to speculate on what might have been. I suppose too much had happened by then.” He sat in thoughtful silence and considered the letter he must write that night to his father. He had only just received a letter confirming the Earl’s happiness in Darcy’s engagement to a worthy woman, now Richard would have to tell him that he had no idea when the wedding would occur.
“Hurst and I have been speculating over the gossip … you said that Wickham claimed he had help?”
Withdrawing from his musings, Richard returned his attention to the men. “Yes, it was his dying statement. I have been thinking it over myself, chewing on the clues, as it were. I wonder; do you have any ideas?”
Bingley glanced at Hurst who encouraged him. “Well, when we were riding from the woods, I asked Lucas how he came to be there, he thought he would be of use after learning of the attack on Miss Darcy and Miss Elizabeth. He admitted that he had hopes that the rumours in town would encourage Mr. Bennet to end her engagement.”
Richard’s brows rose. “Is that so? Surely he would not expect the rumours to go so far to lead to such violence.”
“I imagine not, but later as we were approaching Longbourn, Darcy asked him about Wickham, and he admitted that he had eagerly listened to his stories.”
“My wife told me this afternoon that Caroline admitted to approaching Lucas to propose a compromise of Miss Elizabeth, but that it obviously did not happen.” Hurst leaned back in his chair. “We know that Darcy hit him for touching Miss Elizabeth. Perhaps that was the compromise that Caroline proposed? Darcy never disparaged him in town or really even to us. He hit him and dropped it.”
Richard nodded and said thoughtfully, “The fact that Darcy acted in a violent manner at all is remarkable, what he did today was extraordinary, which goes to prove his intense feelings for both Miss Elizabeth and Wickham. I would have stepped in if he had continued throttling him …” Richard’s voice trailed off. He never wanted Darcy to know what he did of delivering death. He roused himself from his thoughts. “Today was an important day for him.”
“One likely never to be repeated I would wager.” Hurst nodded.
“I would hope not!” Bingley said with wide eyes.
Hurst smiled. “No, not that Bingley, I mean, such an expression of emotion on his part, it seems quite unusual.”
Bingley nodded in understanding. “It seems to be a great day for unusual expressions of emotion.” Hurst looked at him and smiled. Richard tilted his head and raised his brow. Bingley sighed. “I essentially threw my sister out of the house. She burned the letter from Miss Elizabeth that told Darcy of the new rumours of his violence and Miss Darcy’s ruin. If he had received it …”
Richard shook his head. “So many what-ifs are in this tale. I am sure that your sister is only receiving a recompense that has been long in coming.” He watched Bingley look down and nod, then sipped his drink. He would allow the young man to clean up his own house. His sights were focussed elsewhere. “Well, I can not help but speculate that Lucas is somehow involved in this. I should like to interview him. Colonel Forster is making inquires from his wife about where she heard the rumours, but the very nature of gossip is that it is insidious, like smoke, getting into cracks and crevices and growing with each new breath of air. I suppose that each new tidbit was gobbled up and embellished as it passed from one person to another. I have a feeling that when I speak to him, he may admit to spreading the rumours, but will equally claim that he had no idea of Wickham’s ultimate plans or the damage it would all cause.” He looked at his audience and raised his glass to his lips. “Of course, ignorance of the result is not an excuse from punishment.”
“What will you do if he is guilty?” Bingley asked, and watched in fascination as the cold eyes he had seen on the soldier as he rode off to follow Wickham reappeared. He suddenly realized how fortunate Caroline was that the punishment he had determined for her was all she would be receiving.
“He hurt my family, I will have to consider if I should extend mercy.” Bingley swallowed and looked to Hurst who puffed his cheeks and blew out his breath. They realized that they were in the presence of a very dangerous man. Bingley hoped that he would speak to Darcy before acting, since he was likely the only person Richard would heed.
“OH MR. BENNET! You will be so proud of me!” Mrs. Bennet came into the bookroom with a triumphant gleam in her eye. She stopped dead and stared at her husband. “Mr. Bennet are you … weeping?”
Mr. Bennet was seated at his desk, and nothing could stop the tears that were pouring down his face. He rested his head in his hands, no matter how hard he tried; he could not blot out the stricken expression of utter agony in Darcy’s eyes. His willingness to fight for Elizabeth, and find a way to protect her and her sisters only confirmed the goodness of the man, something he had acknowledged long ago. “She will never forgive me.”
“Who? Mr. Bennet?”
He lifted his head and said mournfully, “I have told Mr. Darcy that I w
ish to end his engagement to Lizzy. I do not want his … family’s ruin … to touch our girls.” He sighed. “Mr. Darcy refuses to comply. He went to speak to Lizzy about it.”
Mrs. Bennet blinked in disbelief. “Mr. Bennet! Have you lost your senses? Mr. Darcy fought for our Lizzy! He saved her life! He saved her from … his cousin fought that … Mr. Bennett, I just told my sister, Mrs. Goulding, and Mrs. King that Mr. Darcy is the finest example of a gentleman that ever entered Hertfordshire and if they choose to believe the lies spread by a … criminal bent to … KILL … and … harm our children, then they are FOOLS!” Mrs. Bennet’s face was red and she wrung her hands. “How can you possibly tell Mr. Darcy he may not marry Lizzy? He cares for her … I can not imagine what it would be to enjoy the … affection Mr. Darcy so freely displays for our daughter … NO SIR, I never question your judgement but on this I will not let up. YOU GET OFF THAT CHAIR AND YOU GO TELL MR. DARCY … GO! NOW!” Mrs. Bennet was hysterical in her declarations.
Mr. Bennet could not recognize the woman before him. “Mrs. Bennet, you defended Mr. Darcy to the neighbourhood?”
“I most certainly did! I told all of them that they would be grateful to have half such a good man marry their daughters! And THEN, Mr. Darcy brought Lizzy downstairs to visit with the ladies. He and Lizzy had not eaten since breakfast and she wished to have some tea. He carried her into the room, insisting that he serve her, and there they sat side by side, holding hands in front of everyone … oh and he kissed and caressed her hands, too … and the way he looked at her! Everyone could see how tender he is with her! They did not stay long, as they are both so tired … well it was clear that Lizzy should not be out of bed, the injuries to her face were horrid enough, but you should have heard them talking about Mr. Darcy’s jaw and blackened eye! And nobody missed Lizzy stroking his poor swollen hands. I can imagine that the dear man is simply COVERED in bruises! He did not say very much, but he was exceedingly polite, and so obviously a gentleman. AND THEN Lizzy told them all about that horrible Mr. Wickham! How he imposed himself upon Miss Darcy, luring her away from the cottage, and trying to marry her to get her dowry. WELL Mr. Bennet, they were shocked! Nobody knew how wicked Mr. Wickham was! Lizzy told us that Mr. Wickham made a habit of taking in innocent girls and has many natural children left in his wake! Poor Miss Darcy was betrayed by the woman who was supposed to protect her, and well, Mr. Bennet, she is but fifteen; imagine if our Lydia was faced with such a wolf in sheep’s clothes? What would have become of her? After that Mr. Darcy swept her back up in his arms and took her upstairs. They all remarked upon how mistaken they must be about him, and I told them that they simply must agree with me that he is a very good man and that he and his sister were the ones wronged in all of this. They are all going to tell the truth of the matter to the entire town!” She shook her handkerchief at him. “Now you go speak to him before he listens to you and ruins everything for Lizzy!” Mrs. Bennet actually began pushing him up and out of his chair. “I will not see our daughter miss this opportunity to … have a fine husband.” Her frantic energy finally dissipated and she stared at the floor.
Mr. Bennet stood and turned to face her. “You mean that you will not have her miss the chance to be loved.”
She looked up at him and the silly vacant woman was gone. “Mr. Bennet, I know full well that you have never loved me, and that I was forced upon you. It was not the match I wished for either, but I made the prudent choice and have done the best I can. Who would you have her marry now, surely not Mr. Collins or John Lucas?”
He examined this serious woman before him with wonder. “No, no, she would not accept either of them.”
“Mr. Bennet, I think that it is doubtful that Elizabeth would accept anyone other than Mr. Darcy.”
A knock at the door interrupted them. “Come in.” Mr. Bennet called.
Mrs. Hill entered the room with a note and left. Mr. Bennet opened the folded piece of paper and shook his head, then read it aloud to his wife. Papa, Mr. Darcy told me of your ridiculous dictate, and I hereby inform you that it will be ignored.
Mrs. Bennet smiled in triumph and nodded. “You are not my most beautiful child, Lizzy, but you are by far the cleverest!” She looked up to her husband. “Well, Mr. Bennet, what have you to say about that?”
AFTER BEING CALLED back down to Mr. Bennet’s bookroom, and receiving the man’s sincere apologies and pleas for forgiveness, Darcy informed him of his desire to quickly remove his sister to Pemberley, in the company of Elizabeth, who he stated would prefer to go as his wife. Mr. Bennet asked to have the night to think over the plan, but Darcy knew that regardless of Mr. Bennet’s decision, Elizabeth would be in his carriage the day they departed, wedded or not. His patience was at an end.
Upon returning upstairs, he learned that Georgiana had awakened, and he cautiously entered her room to visit. “Georgiana, how do you feel?” She turned from where she lay facing the wall and saw his injuries. She cried out and her hand went to her mouth. “Oh William! Your jaw … does it hurt? Oh, this is all my fault!” She burst into tears and Darcy looked at Mrs. Annesley, then reached over and pulled her to him. He was relieved to feel her calm.
“Georgiana.” He paused, thinking, and decided he had always been truthful with her. “Yes, it does hurt. I imagine I will feel quite stiff in the morning, but … I am glad for these marks.”
Her muffled voice could just be heard from where her head was pressed to his shoulder. “How can you be glad?”
“I was able to defend the woman I love, and pay him back for harming the sister I love. I did not allow him to continue taking from me as he has for as long as I can remember. I was able to end it on my terms, before our cousin ended it on his, Wickham is dead.” She gasped, and he hugged her. “I do not want you to blame yourself for this anymore Georgiana, but I do want to know why you felt that your only recourse was to do yourself harm.”
He pulled away and held her away from him. “If you are not ready to speak of it yet, I understand, and if you would prefer to speak to Elizabeth instead, I will accept that, but I do want you to think carefully about your answer and when you are ready, tell us why. I would have blamed myself forever if you had succeeded, and I could not have stood to follow the law in the manner dictated to bury one who takes their life. When you understand why you acted as you did, then Elizabeth and I will be able to help you. You must know that we both love you very much and want only your happiness. Now that I have found mine, and I will no longer be the morose brother you have grown up knowing, I believe that we can find yours. Elizabeth will help us both to be better people.” He watched her carefully, and held her hand. “I was very proud to hear Elizabeth tell me that you fought back. I think that was very important, and shows how you truly do want to live.”
Georgiana remained silent. Darcy looked back to Mrs. Annesley who smiled and nodded her head. He sighed. “It has been a very long day dear, and I am going to retire. Tomorrow we will talk. I plan for us to return to Pemberley soon, and hopefully Elizabeth will join us. Will that please you?” She nodded and he kissed her forehead. “Very well then, good night.” He stood and nodded to Mrs. Annesley and left the room. Looking down the hallway, he saw that the door to Elizabeth’s room was open, but he could hear the sound of women’s voices inside. He hung his head and instead walked to the door to the chamber that would be his for the night. Just as he raised his hand to knock, Mr. Bennet’s man approached and offered his assistance to prepare. Darcy accepted and the valet opened the door for him and he entered, glancing around at the simply appointed, but obviously feminine room. He paused as the man swept by him and he took in the scent of rosewater. He smiled slightly, wondering if Bingley would be as affected by Jane’s scent as he was when entering the lavender filled room belonging to Elizabeth. The unfamiliar servant worked quietly and efficiently, and seemed to take great pleasure in handling the very fine clothes that were methodically removed from Darcy. With Roberts at Netherfield, he did not expect any special attent
ion, and in truth he did not want it this night.
Finally alone, he stood in his robe and nightshirt and leaned on the window frame, resting his head on the cold glass. It was a very dark night, heavy clouds blocked the moonlight but occasional breaks allowed him brief glimpses of the garden and of the trees creaking in the brisk autumn wind. He waited, Elizabeth told him to wait. In the distance the noise of a house full of women created an uncomfortable din. He was not at all accustomed to so much activity, except perhaps when staying at an inn while travelling. He searched around the room for something familiar and just felt lost. Darcy turned his eyes back to the garden when a soft knock on his door was heard. “Enter.”
Jane slipped into the room. “Good evening, sir.” She closed the door and would not look at him. He supposed it was his dress that was making her blush violently, so he stood out of her way and watched her as she quickly opened the closet door then stood aside, staring down at her hands. She gestured to the door. “Please go ahead Mr. Darcy.”
He stepped forward and tried to see her eyes. “In the closet?” She nodded and kept her gaze averted. Cautiously, Darcy stepped into the dark space, and was suddenly surrounded by a stronger scent of rosewater, obviously captured in all of her gowns. Ahead he saw a sliver of light around a doorframe and walked further. Gradually the roses dissipated and he was enveloped instead by lavender. Elizabeth. He pushed open the door and blinked upon entering the softly lit room. He scanned the familiar space and upon seeing her smile he relaxed. He was home.
Chapter 28
Darcy gradually woke and felt a sensation that was entirely new and pleasant. His eyes opened to behold Elizabeth’s hair fanned out over his chest like a blanket, her face pressed against his shoulder, her arm draped around his waist and her leg entwined over his. It was so very warm and comfortable. The steady beat of a cold November rain brought his glance to the window, and he regretted that they were not at Pemberley where a day such as this could be spent quite happily in their bed or at the least, curled together in the library under a warm blanket, pretending to read. He sighed as his imagination ran with the thoughts of his future domestic life, far away from the society he so hated, and making a home with this beautiful woman.