Dearest Friends

by Pamela Lynne

  “Well, go on then.”

  “I was only saying that I do not see why it is offensive that a woman would want to marry you for your title. It is useful to have in society, is it not?”

  “It can be, yes.”

  “And you will have a hand in politics as well?”

  “When I am earl.”

  “Why would a woman from your sphere not wish to be part of that, to be mistress of an earldom and support her husband’s efforts in Parliament? Marriage is the only truly acceptable way for a gentlewoman to better herself or express her talents. Why is it wrong to be ambitious?”

  Sebastian found no fault in her argument but thought it would be more amusing to take the opposite stance.

  “But what of love, Miss Mary, and happiness?”

  Mary thought for a moment. “Felicity in marriage is entirely a matter of chance. Contentment, however, is a matter of choice. That is not to say you can fall in love with just anybody. There are very few truly bad people in the world. I believe something can be found to admire in just about anyone. I also think that in marriage, if you treat someone with kindness, that kindness will be returned. You do not have to experience great passion to have a good life.”

  He contemplated her words and concluded that, given the situation she just escaped, she was either full of hope and faith in mankind or she was lying to herself in order to continue on. Should he tell her that there are a great many bad people in the world who would take her kindness and give her malice in return? Something in her eyes told him she had already learned that lesson.

  “And what are your ambitions, Miss Mary? Who do you wish to trap in your net of kindness? A wealthy landowner like your future brother? Or perhaps you want your own earldom to be mistress of?” His voice was teasing, but he genuinely wanted to know what this very proper, devout girl hoped for in life.

  Mary blushed. “I do not doubt that my mother hopes Lizzy’s marriage will throw her other daughters in the path of rich men, but that is not my ambition, sir. I was not raised for such things. A simple life, in a quiet country parish, perhaps, would suit me well.”

  “Security is your heart’s desire?”

  She nodded.

  Sebastian’s smile was as sincere as his words. “I hope you find that, Miss Mary.”

  To Jane’s relief, conversation in the carriage finally stilled as they all retreated to their own quiet contemplation.

  ********

  “Please.” The word was barely whimpered as the girl winced in pain. Her arm bent behind her as the foul-smelling man hissed in her ear.

  “Where have they gone?” He pulled her arm further behind her when she did not answer. “Perhaps I am using the wrong method of persuasion.” He traced the line of her jaw with his plump finger. The young maid shivered as tears ran down her face. “It may be that you are enjoying our little encounter.” He pressed against her and was about to speak further when he suddenly felt all the air rush from his lungs and a crushing pain in his back from being thrown against the wall. He shook his head as he tried to focus his eyes on the dark figure that had him by the throat.

  After leaving his townhouse, Darcy went to Mr. Gardiner’s warehouse to inquire whether he received the note his wife sent earlier. He was told Mr. Gardiner had business in another part of town that morning but would likely have received the message by then. He left in the direction of the Gardiner home, bringing one of Mr. Gardiner’s burley footmen with him. The scene before him when he entered the hall was sickening. Mr. Bennet leaned against the wall, seemingly in a stupor while Collins manhandled a young servant.

  “I do not believe the girl asked for your attentions, Mr. Collins.” Darcy was surprised at his own aggression. He never would have thought himself capable of throwing a man against a wall and nearly choking him. The vile excuse for a clergyman was intent on making Elizabeth his wife, and Darcy would do anything short of killing him to convince him of his error. He tightened his grip.

  “In fact, I do not believe I know of any lady who has asked for your attentions, but you have bestowed regardless. What claim do you have to Miss Elizabeth Bennet?”

  He brought his hand down so the man could speak. Collins choked out, “She is my betrothed, sir.”

  Before he could still his erratic breathing, Collins felt Darcy’s strong hand around his throat once again as the back of his head found the wall. Darcy’s voice came to him low and menacing.

  “There must be some misunderstanding, sir, for Miss Elizabeth has given me the promise of her hand. It seems you are not only a reprobate but a liar as well. I wonder what Lady Catherine would think about the situation in which you currently find yourself. Should she inquire about the welfare of the maids in the parsonage? Would you still have a living if she did?”

  Collins’s eyes bulged, and he shook his head. “I will ask you once more: what claim do you have to Miss Elizabeth?”

  Darcy barely had time to withdraw before Collins doubled over and heaved. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve and leaned against the wall. “None, sir.”

  Darcy straightened and returned to his usual gentlemanly stance. “My aunt has graciously sent her carriage for you to take back to Kent. Her driver is waiting for you. This man here will see that you make the trip safely.”

  The footman grabbed Collins by the lapels, turned him toward the door, and ushered him out. Collins was no longer a threat to Elizabeth, but he had one more man to deal with. He turned around to see that Mr. Bennet had revived somewhat but still seemed rather overcome. Darcy went to him and grasped his arm.

  “Mr. Bennet, you look unwell. Let us sit and talk, sir.”

  Mr. Bennet had indeed spent much of the morning in a fog. Like most days, he seemed to have only moments of clear thought, and at this moment, the fog was beginning to lift. He saw the young man at his side and was confused until he looked around and saw he was in his brother’s home in London. As Darcy guided him to a seat in the parlor, he remembered the purpose of his visit.

  Darcy turned his back to call for a maid to bring tea and to summon a doctor. When he turned around, he faced the barrel of a gun.

  ********

  Darcy remained calm as Elizabeth’s father held a shaky finger on the trigger of his dueling pistol. It was the weapon of a gentleman, but the man who held it never actually lived up to the title. He lived his married life as an apparition, showing himself only when convenient or when amusement could be found, never taking life seriously enough to examine the damage his neglect had caused his estate and his family.

  He had been decaying for years before his heart became defective, and he sought salvation in the daughter he trained in his image, or so he thought. He assumed her obedience would shadow her spirit, but he did not anticipate her desire to be more than he had taught her to be. She was not meant to be his. Part of his mind that remained sane knew this, but it was no match for the rest of him that was held tight by madness.

  They stood staring at each other for long moments, one trying to maintain clarity while the other tried to think of an escape. Darcy could see the uncertainty in the man’s eyes and decided to take advantage.

  “Mr. Bennet, if you put down the gun, I can take you to see Elizabeth.”

  “Where is she?” His voice was horse.

  “I believe you could use something to drink, sir. Shall we sit down to tea and discuss things?”

  “I do not want tea, son.” He reached into his coat and pulled out his flask. He managed to open it with one hand and take a short sip. He did not take his eyes off Darcy as he replaced the cap and returned it to his pocket.

  “What do you want, sir?”

  “I want my daughter back, but I know you will not take me to her. I heard what you said to Collins. You sent him away. You have taken my daughter and my heir. What shall I take from you, sir?”

  Mr. Bennet stepped forward and tried to concentrate his aim on the young man’s heart. He finally had his shot aligned when he felt a cold blade beneath his jawlin
e and warm breath in his ear.

  “C’est fini, charogne. You will drop the pistol.”

  Still within his moment of clarity, Mr. Bennet began to comply and slowly lowered his arm. Then, in a last defiant act of a broken man, his arm rose. Before Remy could disarm him, he fired his shot, sending Darcy to the floor.

  ********

  Elizabeth sat at the table with the rest of their party and stared into her tea. They arrived at the first inn without incident and were taking refreshment together in the dining room before retiring to their own rooms. They were only two hours from Meryton. Though Richard was uncomfortable being so close to Longbourn, he knew they would not reach the next inn before nightfall and so decided to stop for the night.

  Sebastian, who had been seeing to the room arrangements, joined the table. “Our accommodations are ready. Aunt Catherine, Miss Elizabeth, Darcy, and Bingley will have their own rooms. The rest of us will need to share.”

  “I believe I will retire now if you all do not mind. One would not think sitting for five hours could be so tiring.” Anne kissed her mother and gave Georgiana, whose head rested on Elizabeth’s shoulder, a comforting squeeze. Richard rose and offered her his arm.

  “I will escort you upstairs, Annie.”

  “Thank you, Richard.” She leaned into him as they climbed the stairs.

  “Are you very tired, Annie?”

  “I ache. I believe I felt every bump and rut in my bones. A long bath would go a long way to soothing those aches, but I will settle for a warm bed. It is too cold to be traveling to Scotland.”

  Richard looked at her pouting face in amusement. He had contemplated Sebastian’s suggestion while they traveled to the inn. He and Anne did their best to distract Elizabeth from her worries over Darcy and her father. They talked about the last time the cousins were all in Scotland together and encouraged her to tell of her own childhood exploits. Richard noticed how strong Anne seemed when she had someone to care for, rather than being tended to herself.

  “I am surprised you came, not that I am displeased. It is always a pleasure to be in your company, dear Cousin,” he said lightly.

  Anne smiled. “I had to come to ensure Darcy makes it to the altar. Until he takes his vows with Elizabeth, I will live in fear that Mother will find a way to tie him to me instead. You will make sure Elizabeth locks her door?” She laughed at his raised eyebrow.

  They made it to her room, and he stood in the doorway as she walked to the bed and fell back into the pillows. She kicked off her slippers and tucked her feet under her bottom. She yawned as she began to take down her hair.

  “Shall I summon a maid for you since you have already begun to make yourself comfortable?” Richard wondered at her casual manner. A calculating woman would consider herself compromised as he stood there watching her. He believed that Anne was not calculating, just very naïve and, as she continued to shake out her hair over her shoulders, very lovely.

  “No, let her tend to the other ladies. I am capable of working buttons, and I am too tired to wait.” She placed her palms on the back of her neck and rolled her head in an effort to release the tension in her shoulders, but her movements birthed a pressure of a different kind. Richard’s glare suddenly became very intense.

  “Do you need anything, Anne, for your aches?”

  She smiled mischievously and said, “If you could spare a few sips of brandy, I would be greatly obliged.”

  He returned her smile and pulled his flask from his coat as he walked to the bed. He handed it to her and said, “Do not tell your mother I am feeding your newly acquired bad habits, Annie. I do not think she would approve of you drinking my brandy.”

  Anne rolled her eyes as she swallowed. “She would not care about the brandy but would be in quite a snit over me drinking from a flask. I am sure she would somehow equate the act with lower-class living.”

  They both laughed, and she handed his flask back to him, touching his fingers in the process. He smirked as he looked down at her. Her cheeks were flushed from the brandy, and his lips were drawn to them. Not having Darcy’s extreme sense of honor or self-control, he gave no thought to his actions as he placed his hands on the bed, one on each side of her, and leaned in. Knowing that Georgiana would soon be in was the only thing that kept him from moving his kiss from her cheek to her lips, which were slightly parted and very inviting.

  He pulled back and looked at her. In many ways, Anne was still very childlike, but her countenance displayed none of that now. Her cheeks retained a slight blush, but she did not shy away from his attentions or his gaze. He was not surprised to see her eyes flash invitingly. She was a Fitzwilliam after all. He leaned back in and rubbed her nose with his. They both smiled playfully.

  “Good night, Annie.”

  “Good night, Richard.”

  ********

  Elizabeth paced the path she had forged around her bed for the last hour. She spent the evening comforting Georgiana and avoiding her sisters while her insides twisted. He said he would see her tonight. The sun had set hours before, and he was still not there. Her mind flooded with every possible reason why he had not yet come, none of them good.

  She lowered herself into a chair in front of the fire and gave in to the tears she had fought all day. She cried for her bruised mother and her frightened sisters. She cried for the Fitzwilliams, who, in spite of all their faults, had provided her with comfort and protection. She cried for Georgiana’s worries and for her own fears. She cried for her father and most of all for her dearest Fitzwilliam, who was somewhere out in that cold night instead of sitting there in the warmth with her. She felt guilty that loving her came with so many challenges. She leaned over and wept into her hands.

  So overwhelmed with her own emotions, she did not hear the soft knock on the door to the adjoining room nor the sound of the door opening to a silent visitor. She remained unaware of another presence in the room as her sobs shook her body until she felt a gentle touch on her knee.

  Startled by the contact, her head jerked up, and her eyes met his, and suddenly, the world was right again. Her sad tears turned to joyful ones as she fell into the arms of her beloved.

  Chapter Nineteen

  * * *

  Elizabeth rested her cheek on Darcy’s then pulled back and caressed his face with both hands.

  “You are freezing, my love. Did you ride here?”

  “I did.”

  “All the way from London?”

  “No, from Meryton. Uncle Gardiner and I took your father to Longbourn this afternoon.”

  Elizabeth took his hands, which were also chilled. “I need to hear everything, but first, we must get you warm. Did you request a bath?”

  Her question was answered by the sound of water being poured in the next room. “I will inform Georgie of your safe arrival.” She tried to pull away, but Darcy would not allow it.

  “Do not go. She is likely asleep anyway.”

  “She was worried about you. If she is sleeping, it is fitfully, I assure you. I will join you when I return.”

  “Very well. I will not be long, so do hurry. There is much to speak of.”

  Elizabeth nodded. She had not yet prepared herself for bed, so she only needed to slip on her shoes before walking across the hall to the room Georgie shared with Anne.

  Darcy returned to his chamber and dismissed his valet after he helped him with his boots. He undressed quickly, poured a snifter of brandy, and settled into the tub. The warm water felt good on his skin, and the drink soothed his mind and warmed his insides. It had been a long, hellish day. He sank deeper into the tub and winced when the water reached the stitched wound on his upper arm. He laid his head back against the tub and let his mind settle over the events of the afternoon.

  When Darcy saw that Mr. Bennet raised the pistol, he quickly dropped to the floor, but not so quick as to dodge the bullet entirely. It grazed his arm just a few inches from his shoulder, deep enough to bleed but cause no real damage.

  The imp
act from the charge was enough to jar Mr. Bennet in his weakened state. He fell back into Remy, who promptly dropped him to see to Darcy. He kneeled down beside him to examine the wound. He took out his handkerchief to try to stop the bleeding.

  “I do not mean to sound ungrateful, but why are you here? I told you to stay with Elizabeth.”

  “You did.”

  “But you are here.”

  “As you see, sir.”

  “Why?”

  Remy’s voice was low and gravelly. His accent was recognizable though faint. “Because it is my job to keep Miss Lizzy from harm. If you were killed or more seriously injured, she might not recover. She depends on you now, so I must keep you safe as well.” Remy wanted to add that it was a damned fool thing to try to pay respect to a mad man, but he kept his thoughts to himself. He looked to Mr. Bennet, who had just groaned in pain and then back to Darcy.

  “I apologize for not being here sooner. Mr. Gardiner arrived at your door as I was leaving. I needed to inform him of the situation so he could get his anger in control before seeing his wife. He will not be pleased to see that the man still lives.”

  Without taking leave, he walked out of the room and returned just a few minutes later carrying a sewing basket. He sat it down on the table next to Darcy, who was now in his shirt sleeves and sitting in a chair. He then bent over Mr. Bennet and retrieved his flask. He removed the top and smelled the contents before pouring some onto a cloth.

  “Opium is a vile substance. Your class uses it far too much.” He proceeded to clean Darcy’s arm. It hurt like hell, but his pride would not allow him to show pain in front of the footman.

  “It is opium in the flask, then?”

  Remy shrugged. “I can only smell the brandy, but he has the look of an addict. It is a unique type of desperation.” He sat the cloth down then picked up a threaded needle from the sewing basket.

  “You do not mean to stitch me yourself? I sent for a doctor earlier.”