by Wells, Linda
“Then we would see a murder.” Darcy looked down to her upturned face. “Too many people have been my proxy in this. If I can locate him, if he is indeed still in the area, I want to speak to him on my terms, and not while having to hold off my furious relatives.”
“But you are furious, too! Do not attempt to fool me with this calm facade, Fitzwilliam Darcy! You cannot hide behind your mask with me. I know how angry and hurt you are.”
“And I would like to express it at last to the one who deserves it.” Darcy studied her eyes and kissed her tenderly. “I love you, too.”
“When I return from seeing Mrs. Annesley, I will begin our packing.” Her face held a determined glare. “You have one afternoon to yourself, Mr. Darcy. One. If you do not find him, then he will just have to remain lost. As you say, he will undoubtedly appear again regardless of what threats come his way.”
“You are set to go home.”
“If we are not stepping across the threshold to Pemberley in … four days time, I will … I will be …”
“What?” He smiled.
“You will just see, sir!” Detaching herself from his grasp, she started furiously tying the ribbons of her bonnet. Darcy stayed her hands and took over the job. “We need to go home. It is high time that you and I worried about the two of us alone. We need to go home and just … be.” She glanced at him and his lips twitched as he finished and adjusted the bow.
“Yes, dear.”
Elizabeth grew increasingly frustrated. “You are feeling better, you know that you are. I will not have you return to the way you were.”
“The way I was?” He rubbed his thumb along her jaw. “I have discovered something about the way I was.”
“What is that?” Her eyes were welling up and she held his hand to her cheek. Darcy leaned down and spoke softly in her ear. Elizabeth blushed as his warm breath and low voice caressed the words. “Will.” She bent her head and rested it against his chest as he continued talking gently. “Ohhh Will.” Darcy lifted her head back up and they kissed.
“It is true.” Holding her eyes he caressed her jaw again. “Whenever you love me, everything is well again. I did not tell you, but so many times when it was hurting, we loved each other and the pain would disappear.”
Elizabeth pressed her palm to his chest. “It would? But does it not make your heart beat faster?”
“It certainly does.” His eyes twinkled and he bent to her ear again, “And you taste far, far better than that elixir you discovered.”
“Then … then, we will go home.” Darcy wiped the tear that was rolling down her burning cheek. “We will go home and you will be well, and you and I will … put all of this behind us.”
He leaned and kissed her, “Yes, dear.”
“Yes, dear? Is this the cause of the delay?” Richard reappeared and laughed when they started from their deepening embrace. “You will never hear me kowtowing to my wife …”
“Oh … that was a mistake, Cousin.” Darcy laughed and indicated Elizabeth’s flashing eyes.
“What did I say?”
“Plenty for me to mention to Miss Kelly.” Elizabeth spun in a swirl of her skirts and headed for the door.
“Mrs. Darcy.” Darcy called softly.
She stopped, but did not turn. “Yes, Mr. Darcy?”
“Be careful.”
“I love you, too, Will.” Darcy smiled and looked down at his feet as she quickly walked outside.
“What was that about?” Richard asked curiously.
“Find yourself a wife who loves you, and then you will understand.” Darcy gave him a shove to the door. “Good luck.”
“ANOTHER?” Gladney watched a curricle pulling up to the house. “How many is that now? Ten? Should not this choice have been made by now?”
“Mother is casting her net far and wide.” Anne rose from her seat before a quilting frame and joined him at the window. “It was kind of you to give her the duty of interviewing new pastors for Hunsford.”
“Kind or lazy? The occupation keeps her from my hair.” He smiled and heard her throat clear. “I retained the right to reject any of them. I do not want another Collins. There is only so much fawning a man can take.”
“I wonder if it was sincere?”
“Oh … he was grateful for the job, I am certain. He simply forgot to stop applying for it once it was won.”
Anne leaned against the window. “I wonder how he is getting on with his own estate.”
He watched her as she looked out over the drive. “He is likely insufferable.”
“Elizabeth’s sister has her work cut out for her.”
“She is insufferable, too. How she could be of the same lineage is beyond me.”
“Are you like Richard?”
Gladney smiled. “Touché.”
“Thank you.” Anne curtseyed slightly.
“Speaking of Richard, he sent me a letter.” Turning away, he walked to a table where his correspondence lay in a pile. “It seems that he is courting a Scottish girl.”
“Is he?” Interested, Anne stood beside him and read. “The only girl with four brothers … a decent, if not overwhelming dowry. A son of an earl should do better than that.”
“Fifteen thousand for a younger son is nothing to sneeze at.” Gladney mused. “He has told his future father the situation at Gladney and the man remained encouraging.” Anne laughed derisively. “Well, no small surprise there, I suppose, the father sees a good man and a good home for his daughter. But Richard fears it may be some time before he can propose and bring her home.” Albert’s hand went automatically to his waistcoat pocket, but all that his fingers found was his watch. Noticing Anne’s eyes following his movement, he cleared his throat and unconsciously touched his nose. “His needing to wait is my fault. If only I would die …”
Ignoring the statement, Anne pointed at the letter. “I suppose that her dowry is not enough to furnish the house?”
“Oh it is, but he rightly points out that he has no desire to plunder her security for a few tables and chairs. That money is for her future and their children, should they come.” With that, Anne turned away and returned to her needlework. “I am sorry, Anne. I did not realize that you would care.”
“Neither did I, until we married.” She picked up her needle and started working the fabric. “I am willing to try, I feel fit enough. Besides, the next earl should be your child, not your brother’s.”
“And what if I pass on my disease to the baby or you?”
“You said that you have not seen any sign of it on your person.” She looked up at him and watched as again his hand searched for the missing snuff box. “I am sorry.”
“No … I am as well.” He sniffed and looked back at the letter. “I … like you; I had not expected to feel … stirrings for such matters when we married.”
“Children?”
“Children and … other things.” He glanced at her and noticed that she did not look away. Rubbing his nose again, he picked up the letter and walked back to the window. “What say I plunder Rosings’ coffers a bit and refurnish Gladney for him? Get the place on its feet so he can propose and start making the Fitzwilliams some heirs, eh? Your mother amassed quite a fortune, and the manor certainly does not need any more mantlepieces.”
“Is there anything left of my dowry after paying your debts? I do not need to preserve it.” Anne said quietly.
Gladney sighed. “Even if I was healthy, my body does not respond as a man’s should anymore. I have done too much damage to myself.”
“If you would let me touch you, I could try.” Her cheeks coloured with the suggestion, but he knew instinctively that it was not from embarrassment.
“Anne. I have come to care about you. And that is why I do not let you touch me.” Gladney set down the letter and walking to her side; bent and kissed her cheek. “I think that I will go take a ride.”
She regarded him suspiciously, “I will come with you.”
Shaking his head, he patted
her shoulder. “No, I need to be alone. I promise, I will return no more damaged that I already am.” Clasping his hands behind his back, he strolled from the room.
“STUBBORN FOOL.” Elizabeth said to herself and held onto the strap of the rocking carriage as they drove over some deep ruts in the road.
“Pardon?” Richard turned away from the window, “Who is a stubborn … Oh, my tall cousin? You seemed to be getting on quite well when we parted. What has he done, or rather, what have you imagined he has done?”
Elizabeth glared at him. “Richard, if you want me to help you, do not goad me into talking just now. Otherwise I will say something you will regret hearing.”
“I may just wish to force your hand to hear what you have to say.” He smiled and saw lips pressing together. “Elizabeth?”
“We are here.” She let go of the strap and fussed over her gown. “Do you have anything in particular that you want to accomplish with Miss Kelly?”
Watching her carefully, he spoke slowly. “Yes, I do, but I am afraid that it will have to wait for our wedding night.”
“If you speak to her like that you will deserve the heat of her fury.”
“Sometimes I forget that you are a woman, Elizabeth.”
“Oh, now that is a compliment!” She snapped. “I am surrounded by fools today!”
“No, no. I said that badly.”
“Go on! You realize that the hole you are digging is becoming deeper by the second?”
Richard smiled as her eyes flashed and wondered just what Darcy had done. “I cannot talk to women, but I can talk to you.”
“Practice that on the woman you have as much as proposed to.” The carriage stopped and Ben jumped down from the driver’s seat to open the door. Elizabeth took a calming breath and looked at the startled man across from her. “By the way, when will that be?”
“I barely know her!”
She looked at the open front door of the Kelly home where Sophie stood waiting for them and gave his leg a kick. “So, go and know her!”
KICKING BRUIN, Darcy set off across the field at a rapid pace. It was a move meant more to redirect his thoughts from the sight of Elizabeth’s pensive face turned to watch him from the back window of the carriage than to gain any ground. He understood her worry and frustration, but this was something he had to do on his own. If he did not search for and find Wickham, he would never rest easy. Despite his wife’s contention that he took on far too much, this was one fight where he had never engaged the enemy; and in Darcy’s mind, that was why Wickham remained a shadow lurking in their lives.
All night he had brooded over the news that Wickham had dared to come to Sommerwald and the motivation behind it. He debated what he would do if they met. “Nobody knows him as well as I.” He said to Bruin. “I was raised with him. We were friends and playmates for years until …” He shook his head and let his thoughts wander. “What shall I say when I find him, eh Bruin?” The horse snorted and stamped his front hoof. “Ah, so you are in favour of crushing the bastard? That is a thought, since words seem to be ineffective. He does not hear what does not fit into his own ideas. There is nothing in his mind that tells him to leave well enough alone. He just comes back for more, over and over again.”
He scanned the horizon and thinking like the man he knew so well, he started them off on a run. Coming to a stone wall, Darcy thought nothing of bending forward and urging his stallion to leap. They landed easily and he rode on, scanning the countryside as he searched for the man who had been his nemesis for a decade. It was difficult. He did not know Sommerwald like the back of his hand as he did Pemberley, but Wickham had never accompanied Darcy and his father on their fishing trips, so the estate was new to him, too.
“So if I was a profligate cur searching for a place to bed down, close to the child I had ruined, where would I go?” Wickham was no outdoorsman; he preferred a comfortable bed to a blanket on the ground. “Why he tried to join the militia in Hertfordshire is beyond me.” Darcy murmured to himself. “He was hiding, that is the only explanation. Broke and hiding. This quest for a commission now could not be serious either.” Biting his lip, he finally spotted the most likely hiding place and turned Bruin’s head to approach quietly.
“Wickham.” Darcy said softly. There was no doubt about it. The man sleeping in the corner of the sheep shed was no employee of the estate. “Of course, it is empty this time of year. What better place to rest, if you are to be a squatter?” He was well-dressed, but took no care with his clothes. “So he has found some money, but still has no pride.”
Quietly, he swung down from Bruin and tied off his reins, then cautiously entered the building and approached the man sitting in the pile of straw with his arms clasped and his hat pulled down over his eyes. Darcy stood still and watched him. Hordes of emotions and memories flooded his mind, but the one he could not shake was the one he had thankfully only imagined, that of his sister submitting to this man. His fury was instantly at full boil.
“OOOHMPH!” Wickham doubled over when Darcy’s swiftly moving boot landed squarely between his legs.
“GET UP!” Darcy bellowed.
“Darcy!” Wickham gasped. Panting, he managed to rise to his hands and knees before he retched. Disgusted, Darcy sat down on a bench.
“That is nothing to the pain Georgiana endured to give birth to your child, Wickham. You deserve a kick for every cramp she felt. You deserve to suffer for fifteen hours as she did.” Rising, he grabbed Wickham by the back of his coat and hauled him up to a standing position. “You were so fond of trying to goad me into fighting at school, well now is your chance. I give you five seconds to prepare.”
“Please, Darcy …”
“Five.”
“I am barely breathing now …”
“Four.”
“I swear, I stayed within earshot of her window. I felt it with her …”
“Three.” Darcy snarled.
“I … I just wanted to make sure she was well …”
“TWO.” He spat. The more Wickham spoke of caring for her, the angrier he became.
“And … know what our baby was …”
“ONE.”
“Darcy, NO!”
Wickham was silenced when Darcy’s fist rocketed across his face, and his left hand shot into his stomach. Wickham immediately retaliated, fighting without Darcy’s gentlemanly finesse, but with the dirty moves of the inns and streets that he frequented. His fist found Darcy’s kidney, then struck a blow to his side.
CRACK! Darcy winced as his newly healed ribs moved ominously. Running forward and pushing Wickham to the ground, he struck his face again before collapsing against the wall. Darcy rubbed his side as he listened to Wickham moan, and watched blood stream from his mouth.
“When did you learn to fight?” Wickham demanded.
“Anger is a great motivator.” He tried to draw a deep breath and failed. “I also wanted to make it clear that I am no pushover. My father is not alive to be protected, and I am free to defend my home.”
“Your father?” Wickham rubbed his arm across his face and looked at the blood on his sleeve. His tongue ran over his teeth, they all seemed to be there, and he spat out a mouthful of blood on the straw. “Your father hardly needed protection.”
“He trusted you. He trusted and believed in you …”
“He set me up for failure!”
“How? He treated you like any other younger son!” Darcy started to move towards him and Wickham backed away, sliding his rear until he found himself against the wall. Darcy stopped. “I have thought this many times but this is the first I have actually seen it before me, you are a coward. It is all talk and threats, going behind people’s backs and using them …”
“Stop … I deserve your fury … I have no desire to fight you, Darcy. My need for revenge is gone.”
“Revenge? You seek revenge? From me?” Darcy stared. “Did I strike your head and leave you addled? If there is anyone who should seek revenge, it is I. And if Ri
chard were here …”
“He’s had his chances, he did not take them.”
“He is not standing in a tobacco shop now with a witness at the ready. Shall I fetch him? He can show you what it is to express revenge.” Wickham swallowed. “You look green. What happened to the return of your bravado?”
“He would kill me.”
“What a loss.” Darcy snapped. “I despise you.”
“You are not alone.” Wickham closed his eyes and rested his head on the wall. “But you are not a killer, Darcy.”
“No. If I was, you would not be breathing now, and my pistol would require reloading.”
Wickham’s eyes flew open and he saw the gun. “Since when do you go riding armed?”
Darcy ignored the throbbing pain in his side. “When Georgiana told me you were here.”
“Oh.”
“Her loyalty is where it belongs. She does not love you. She said it quite clearly just yesterday.”
“Yesterday.” He watched as the gun was put away and cleared his throat. “I suppose that enduring the labour did nothing to raise her opinion.”
“No, she realized it before she had the baby. I am glad she found that out for certain, at last. I do not believe she could have come to that conclusion without actually speaking to you.”
“So I did some good by coming.”
“Do not take my statement as any sign of gratitude, Wickham. She would have found it one way or another.”
“Did she tell you what I said? I told her to marry and be happy.”
“She said that.” Darcy acknowledged. “She begged me not to hurt you, as well.” Looking at the bleeding man before him, he felt not one hint of guilt. “I have done no permanent damage.”
“She asked you not to hurt me?” He said softly. “Is she well? I saw no physicians coming, that man who came yesterday had the look of a clergyman about him, but since there was no physician I … assumed that … I have seen no undertaker either …” Wickham saw the black armband and pointed. “Who is that for?”
“My wife’s father.”
“Mr. Bennet.” Wickham shook his head. “He was desperate to keep you from marrying her.”