Confusion, Confession and Conviction

by Victoria Winfield

  She dipped a curtsy and handed him the paper. “I thank you, Mr. Darcy. You are most kind.”

  Darcy nodded to her, then to Bingley. “It is no trouble, I assure you.” He stepped into the hall with them and smiled as Bingley left with Jane on his arm.

  When the door closed behind Bingley, Darcy stepped the opposite direction from the drawing room. There had to be an escritoire somewhere in the rooms along the hall. Ah! There. He stepped into a small room adorned with tasteful blue paper on the walls and sparsely, though elegantly, furnished. Elizabeth’s scent floated on the air. He smiled. She must use the small room often.

  He crossed to the escritoire, retrieved a scrap of paper, and unstopped the inkwell. His pen scratched two lines across the paper. After carefully sanding the note and blowing on it, Darcy put it in his pocket and restored each item to its original position.

  Finding no one in the hall, he walked quickly to the front door, snatching his top hat from the table as he passed.

  #

  “How kind of Mr. Bingley to send his coach for us. It will be well for you to arrive early and be quite settled before the rest of the guests arrive to felicitate you.” Elizabeth pulled her wrap snugly against her and leaned back against the cushions.

  “Oh, Lizzy. He truly is so very, very kind.” Jane’s smile set her face aglow.

  Elizabeth leaned forward, capturing one of Jane’s hands. “I am so happy for you, Jane. You truly deserve all kindnesses Mr. Bingley can bestow.”

  “Thank you, Lizzy.” Jane covered Elizabeth’s hand with her free one. A slight frown creased her brow. “But, tell me. We have not had opportunity to talk privately, but I’m must know what occurred between you and Mr. Darcy and the Duke in the garden yesterday.”

  Elizabeth looked out the window. She knew Jane would have seen the exchange and would desire to know more about it. She smiled at Jane and raised an eyebrow.

  “It was quite out of the ordinary, was it not?”

  “It appeared so to me.”

  Elizabeth hesitated for a moment. She had not wished to walk with the Duke in the garden, but after what she, Mr Darcy and her papa had discussed, it had seemed best. Yet, there was much she could not disclose to Jane yet.

  ”

  “You are pausing, Elizabeth,” Jane said, softly. She repositioned her wrap and folded her hands in her lap. “Now, we have little time before we reach Netherfield. Please do tell me what happened yesterday.”

  Elizabeth sobered.

  “It was a little out of the ordinary. Mr. Darcy approached us from the side of the house, claiming that he bore a message for the Duke. We stopped walking and waited for him to catch us up. As he came up to us, he spoke to the Duke.” She frowned, remembering the look on the Duke’s face when he had received his note“Hmm.”

  “He handed the Duke a piece of paper. The Duke read the direction and grew pale. He excused himself and stepped to the side of the path to read the message To my shock, the Duke cursed loudly, clearly becoming agitated.” She shook her head, knowing she could not disclose much more“What had upset the Duke?”

  “It must have been some news in his message. His face was quite red and he excused himself to me—his matter was most urgent, he said. Then, perhaps you saw, he actually ran to the house.”

  “We did remark it as we walked. Charles said we should return to the house, so we did.”

  “Mr. Darcy offered me his arm and escorted me back to the drawing room, but then he excused himself, saying he had a few letters of business to attend to.”

  What Elizabeth did not mention was that Mr Darcy had written her a short note also,

  The coach slowed as it entered the Netherfield drive. What Elizabeth could not tell Jane was that Darcy had written her a short note, which he had handed to her when the Duke was busy with his own letter. In it, he asked her to stay close to the Duke, to appear happy with his pursuit of her, but did not say why although assured her she would be always within sight and sound of her. She had hated having to do so, but had grown to trust the man so as to do what he asked without question. She just hoped that this evening, the Duke would find his ruin.

  #

  Thankfully, the ball was nearly over. As the musicians prepared for the final dance, Darcy kept his eyes on Elizabeth. He frowned. Where was Marsden? The man had barely left Elizabeth’s side the entire evening.

  He stood near the open doors to the terrace where a slight breeze cooled his cheeks. It had been a long day—the discussion with Mr Bennet, then the episode in the garden—what had been in Marsden’s note? An unfamiliar sense of foreboding clawed at the back of his mind. He pushed it down, focusing instead on how well Elizabeth looked tonight. The pale hint of rose in her gown highlighted her dark hair and complemented her complexion. And her eyes…oh, her eyes.

  Voices sounded close behind him, on the terrace. Two men, he decided, though their speech was too low for him to hear much else. Looking nonchalantly around the ballroom, he heard the words “London” and “solicitor.” The clinking of coins seemed to end the conversation. He heard movement on the terrace—footsteps moving away from the door. But only one set. He frowned. Who could possibly…

  Marsden stepped through the door, brushing Darcy’s shoulder in his haste.

  “Beg pardon. Oh. You. Have you nothing better to do than lurk in doorways and gawk at another man’s betrothed? Good God, Darcy. I pity you.”

  Darcy narrowed his eyes. “She is not your betrothed.”

  He snorted. “She soon will be.” With a smirk, Marsden disappeared among the throng of couples taking the floor for the final waltz.

  Darcy’s fingers curled into a fist as he struggled to leash the violence rising in him. He stepped onto the terrace, welcoming the breeze.

  He leaned against a pillar in the shadows and watched Bingley escort Jane down the steps. His heart lightened. Theirs was a true match. How glad he was that he had found his own true match also. How much he wished he could have held Elizabeth in his arms for more than two dances this evening! Soon.

  “It is much cooler out here, my dear.”

  Darcy stood.

  Elizabeth stepped onto the terrace, drawing her wrap around her shoulders. Doing just as I asked you, he thought to himself. She was a strong woman, willing to endure the Duke for as long as was needed.

  “Darcy was lurking here earlier. I am glad to see he is gone.” Marsden followed Elizabeth. He drew her arm under his moving her toward the steps.

  Bile rose in Darcy’s throat.

  “I do not quite comprehend the nature of your relationship with Mr. Darcy.” Elizabeth looked up at Marsden. “What is it that generates such antipathy between you?”

  “Only his insufferable pride, my dear.” Marsden patted her hand.

  Elizabeth pulled her hand away. “I see. You believe he is a proud man. But, I have found, on closer acquaintance, he is…”

  Marsden grabbed her hand and pulled it back under his arm. He smiled down at her. “But, I do not wish to talk of Darcy, my dear. Watch your step. I wish to talk of us.” Marsden led her off the steps and steered her toward a hedge of darkened shrubbery, despite her protestsThey rounded a curve in the path and Darcy lost sight of them.

  He frowned and walked to the end of the terrace. They were out of sight, but he could distinguish their separate voices. Their words were indistinct. He needed to stay close. Going out of sight of the remainder of the guests, even though he was family to Miss Bennet, was already beyond the bounds of propriety, but he was sure Marsden was doing so purposefully.

  A tinkle of feminine laughter sounded off to the left. Darcy turned and peered into the dark beyond the lighted tapers in the garden. Laughter again, then a deeper voice. He smiled. Bingley and Miss Bennet.

  “You will step back, sir!”

  Elizabeth’s voice. Raised in volume and nearly unrecognizable, but hers.

  He cleared the steps in one leap and pounded down the path Marsden and Elizabeth had followed. As he round
ed the curve, he fell back, instinctively clutching the form that had hurled itself against him. Her scent and softness nearly unmanned him.

  Elizabeth!

  “Elizabeth! Look at me.” He set her from him and bent down to see her face more clearly. She turned stormy, frightened eyes on him.

  “Darcy.” Tears welled in her eyes and she caught her lower lip between her teeth. Blood seeped from a small cut just beside her mouth.

  “By God, I’ll kill him this time.” He crushed Elizabeth to him, cradling her head against his chest. Strange sensations swept through him. Love for this woman washed over him followed by burning hatred and overwhelming rage for the one who had injured her. He had not stayed close enough. Regret filled him.

  “Elizabeth! Step away from him.” Marsden, face reddened in anger, sported the imprint of a hand on his cheek.

  ”How dare you, sir?” she exclaimed, hot tears of shock and anger beginning to pour down her face. “I belong to no man. I would not have you even if you did ask me! I intend to marry Mr Darcy.”

  Darcy turned to her in surprise, only for pain to shoot through his jaw, making his ears ring.

  ”Scoundrel!”

  Darcy shook his head and settled into his boxing stance. His focus remained on Marsden, who bobbed in front of him, hopping from one foot to the other. It appeared his boxing form was as poor as his shooting. “Return to the house, Elizabeth.”

  He heard her feet depart from behind him, relieved she had listened to him.

  “I shall have her, you know. She will be mine—through her own choice or under my…persuasion.”

  Darcy waited a moment longer before swinging his fist. His punch connected with Marsden’s left cheek, drawing blood.

  “Your game is over, Marsden. I have a solicitor arriving tomorrow from London to expose your whole devious scheme.” Darcy rubbed his knuckles.

  Marsden pulled himself to a standing position, still breathing heavily. He eyed Darcy.

  “Have a solicitor arriving, have you? Are you certain of that, Darcy? The roads from here to London can be…. perilous, I understand.”

  Darcy growled. “Marsden!”

  As he started forward, arms gripped him from behind, holding him like a vise.

  Marsden smirked. “Elizabeth will marry me, Darcy.” Confidence filled his voice. “I always win, Darcy. Always.” Marsden stepped toward the house.

  #

  “My dear Elizabeth.”

  Mr. Darcy stood, hat in hand before the open door. He had stepped into the hall at the same time as she. “Darcy,” she breathed, almost unconsciously reaching for him. He took her hand in his, his eyes lingering on the small cut near her mouth.

  “How are you, my dear?”

  Tears filled her eyes. “I never had the opportunity to thank you for being there, Darcy.”

  He shook his head, grief on his face. “I should never have encouraged you to remain so close to the Duke. I had known he was a scoundrel, but I had never thought he would harm you.”

  She tried to smile. “Papa is in the study waiting for you.”

  He looked at her hopefully. “You are to join us?”

  “Yes of course.”

  She passed through before him as he held open the door. Dear Lord, he smelled of leather…and soap…and—was it coffee? Whatever the scent, her feelings for him were growing considerably.

  “Darcy!” Mr Bennet was looking quite angry, his eyes on his daughter. “How glad I am to see you.”

  “I had not thought you would be, sir,” Darcy replied, honestly. “After all, I was the one who suggested to Elizabeth that she stay near the Duke. I had not ever considered he might do such a thing as harm her.”

  “Nor did I,” her father replied, softly. “Given that the man’s success hinges on your acceptance of his suit, Lizzy, I must say that I am sorry for my lack of foresight.”

  Elizabeth lifted her chin, a spark of defiance back in her chest. “Now, I will not hear it from either of you. I am unhurt and now the Duke must surely keep his distance, yes?” She turned her eyes to her father. “Papa, have you heard back from Darcy’s solicitor?”

  He shook his head. “There has been a delay. Weston, I believe his name is?”

  Elizabeth saw the excitement on Darcy’s face as he nodded.

  “He is at a coaching in thirty miles from here. Apparently his carriage came upon something of an accident, one that sounded remarkably similar to my dear Lizzy’s accident. The Duke seems to have paid each of the men involved quite well, for now there is no-one to assist Weston. I believe he could not travel either, having had something of a shock. I intend to take my own carriage this morning to fetch him. I cannot wait to have that odious Marsden behind bars.”

  “He has not quit the town, then?” Elizabeth asked, seeing Darcy’s face filled with concern for her as he studied her. Her heart filled with love, remembering how relieved she had been to be held so carefully and tenderly in his arms, after the Duke’s vicious onslaught.

  “The man’s arrogance knows no bounds,” her father snorted, angrily thumping the table. “Elizabeth, you must promise me to stay within our grounds and not go out without a chaperone.”

  Darcy walked over to her and caught her eyes with his. “I must agree with your father, Elizabeth. For your own safety.” He turned back to Mr Bennet. “I will go to Weston and take him here, sir. You should remain with your family.”

  Mr Bennet looked surprised, then grateful. “Are you quite sure?”

  “Of course,” Mr Darcy replied, firmly. “Please excuse me. I must leave at once.” Taking Elizabeth’s hand, he pressed a kiss to it, warmth spreading through her fingers as he smiled gently into her eyes. “Be careful, my love.”

  #

  “Elizabeth! Wait, please!”

  Elizabeth spun round on the path. Her heart raced and fear smothered her. Her quick glances to the right and left revealed no safe places to hide other than the arbour u ahead. She struggled to control her panicked breathing. The Duke walked quickly up to her. He bowed low and thrust a small bouquet at her.

  She frowned and turned away, leaving the bouquet in the Duke’s hand. Thankfully she was able to slow her breathing, although her heart seemed likely to pound out of her body. Coldness clutched at her insides

  He stood and regarded her,his eyes narrowed.

  “You are not welcome, Marsden,” she replied, firmly, despite her trembling. “Pray excuse me.”

  Without warning, he grasped her hand and began to

  pull her along beside him towards the arbour. “‘Twas ill-done of you to walk out without a companion. Could you not have waited for me? Surely you knew I must attend you first thing?”

  Her thoughts whirled. Why had she come out alone? Darcy warned her just before he left. She had thought herself safe within the gardens, looking around desperately for Jane as she tried to pull her hand from his.

  “Elizabeth.” The Duke had stopped walking and turned to face her. “Stop struggling so.”

  ”Release me, sir,” she said, finally managing to pull her hand away. “As I said, I do not wish to see you.”

  He sniffed and stood in front of her, so that she had no way to leave the arbour and return to the house. “I thought as much. I have come to apologize for my dastardly behavior last night and to beg your forgiveness.”

  “I will not give it.” She kept her eyes forward, not chancing to meet his gaze.

  “I…” he cleared his throat. “You are so lovely, Elizabeth, and my passion overruled my manners. I do humbly beg your forgiveness.” He stepped in front of her and knelt, grasping both her hands.

  Elizabeth pulled against his grip, but he tightened his hold. His lips contorted into a grim, almost mocking, smile. Fear rooted her to the spot. Anxiety rose to the verge of hysteria. Then, her heart whispered—Darcy. She closed her eyes and called his face to her sight. He loves me still.

  “You will hear me, Elizabeth.” The Duke stood, retaining his hold on her hands.


  She calmed her breathing and dared a look into the Duke’s eyes. “Release me, Marsden. I will not marry you. As I told you last night, I will soon be betrothed to Mr Darcy.”

  He regarded her through inky pools of glittering jet. He raised his brows.

  “I beg to differ, my dear Elizabeth.” The pressure of his hands increased until she felt her bones rolling over each other. His eyes mesmerized her, rendered her incapable of controlling her own limbs. Screaming erupted inside her head. She pressed her lips together, determined to remain strong.

  He pulled her close. Heat radiated from him. Elizabeth closed her eyes and turned her face away, wondering whether she should scream for help.

  “You see, my dear,” he bent his face close to hers. “You are essential to my plan. You have put me off for the last time—your missish airs and your delays end today.”

  “ “Believe what you must,” she returned, firmly. “I know of your plan, Marsden. I will not marry you.”

  He jerked her even closer, wrapping one arm around her—a steel band imprisoning her. He clenched his teeth.

  “Oh, but I can, Elizabeth. In fact, I already have. Events are set in motion and men are in place to bring about exactly what I desire.”

  He grasped her chin in one hand, forcing her to face him.

  “In short, Elizabeth, I have a special license here in my pocket. We shall attend the supper at Netherfield, where we shall make known our intention to wed tomorrow.”

  Elizabeth pushed against him, pressing both hands to his chest. “You are deluded.”

  He laughed and batted her hands away, capturing them once more in his grip.

  “Did you not hear me? All is in place. You cannot escape.”

  “I shall not consent. No clergyman will perform a ceremony without the consent of the bride. And I should rather die than marry you.”

  He cocked an eyebrow. “Oh. Well. If it comes to that—you shall not die, my dear. No, no. You are too important a piece of the puzzle.” He tilted his head. “Your sister, however. Well, ‘twould be a shame for her to lose her bridegroom now that she has found him.”