Follies and Vices

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Follies and Vices Page 4

by Emily Russell


  Darcy was so angry, he could not bring himself to respond. He gave Mr Collins a brief bow than strode away.

  He needed to get out of this room. He could not leave entirely, or Bingley would be disappointed. But he could find somewhere quiet where he could be alone until he gathered his thoughts.

  Chapter 6

  The library did not cast its usual soothing spell over him. Perhaps it was because Bingley was not a great reader. This library did not have the comforting feel to it that his own did. The bookshelves were sparse though the furniture was handsome. Bingley had clearly anticipated someone might use it for a refuge judging by the number of candles lighting. Someone had probably been here already.

  Darcy threw himself into a chair and drummed his fingers on the arm. He jiggled his foot up and down as he looked out over the moonlit gardens. What would the notice in the paper say when Elizabeth’s marriage was announced? And how would it make him feel? Would he be sickened at the thought of Elizabeth belonging to that man? Or would he feel relief and be satisfied he had done the right thing?

  His visits to his aunt, already tortuous, would become an ordeal. He could picture the lodge where the resident clergyman lived. He recalled his aunt saying something in one of her letters about fixing it up for the new man who had taken the living. Mr Collins and Elizabeth would be separated only by a lane. Darcy would have to see Elizabeth sitting beside that fool, knowing she was his and would return home with him. He would have to see her with another man’s child in her belly and in her arms. He would witness that bright spark of her spirit fading away to nothing while he was helpless to do anything about it.

  Darcy gritted his teeth and jumped up from the chair. He would have to conquer this ridiculous infatuation with Elizabeth Bennet, or he would go mad. Perhaps it was time he left Hertfordshire. Her charms would lessen once he was out of her sight. It would be an excellent opportunity to separate Bingley from Jane Bennet as well. Though the girl was pretty and charming, there was nothing in her face that suggested she loved his friend. Her expression was serene, and his attention clearly flattered her, but Darcy could detect no deep feeling beyond that. He was sure she was under her mother’s instructions to catch him if she could, no matter how little she liked him. And it would crush Bingley to find himself married to a woman he loved deeply only to find out she did not share his feelings.

  Yes, perhaps it was best if they all left Hertfordshire after all. Bingley was due to travel to London tomorrow on business. Darcy could follow him there and point out the certain evils in his choice of Jane Bennet. Bingley was so modest it would not be difficult to persuade him Jane felt nothing for him. If he could save his friend from the misery of marriage to a woman who could not love him, he would do it.

  Darcy still did not feel ready to return to the ballroom. It was too hot in there, too stifling. He did not wish to return to people looking at him like he was a piece of meat. Besides, Elizabeth would surely have returned there by now. If he was resolved on leaving tomorrow and never seeing her again, he would do well to stay out of her presence.

  The moon washed across the rolling lawns outside the French windows. Perhaps a brief walk in the fresh night air might clear his head. It was not a particularly cold evening for the end of November. Darcy pushed open the window and stepped outside, breathing in deep lungfuls of the frosty air. His breath steamed and curled before him as he thrust his hands into his pockets and walked across the crunchy grass, already gleaming with frost. It was a little colder than he realised, but it was a fair improvement from the stifling atmosphere in the ballroom.

  The cold had kept most people indoors. Darcy did not encounter anyone else as he strolled across the lawn, feeling temporary as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He strolled toward a little grove of trees. It would make a convenient distance to walk to and from the house before he steeled himself to return to the ballroom. He leaned with his back against a tree, his hands in his pocket as he looked up at the moon overhead.

  The sound of laboured breathing and heavy footsteps caught his attention. Who on earth was running about the lawn at this time of night? Darcy stood in the grove looking out over the frosty grass to see where the sound came from. He followed it a few yards before he saw a sight that made him freeze in shock. Two men ran by him, but they did not see him. One of them was George Wickham. Darcy stared at him in bewilderment before his expression hardened. If Wickham was sneaking about the grounds of Netherfield at night, it was not because he wished to enjoy the moonlight. But as Wickham moved out of view, Darcy saw something else that made his heart stop.

  Another man lumbered after Wickham. He was bigger than Wickham, but his gait was slower as he carried something over his shoulder. A patch of moonlight through the trees lit up his burden, and Darcy found himself looking into the terrified and angry eyes of Elizabeth Bennet.

  They were some distance away from him. He was too far from the house to find aid, and he was not about to allow himself to lose sight of Elizabeth. He gave an angry yell and took off after them.

  Wickham glanced over his shoulder and cursed before picking up speed. Darcy launched himself at the man who held Elizabeth. The man threw her to the ground, and she gave a muffled cry. Darcy turned to her at once to see her pulling a kerchief from her mouth but had to duck when the man aimed a punch at him. Darcy threw himself at him and sent him tumbling to the ground.

  “Run, Miss Bennet,” he yelled over his shoulder. Elizabeth struggled to her feet and hesitated. The man jumped up again and shoved himself against Darcy who side-stepped out of the way and sent him tumbling to the ground. He turned back to Elizabeth, just in time to see Wickham running toward him. A moment later, Wickham slammed to the ground. Elizabeth drew her foot back in and gave Darcy a triumphant look. Though the moment did not call for it, Darcy could not help giving her a brief smile. Elizabeth smiled back, but her expression changed as her look went to something over his shoulder. She opened her mouth to cry out, and Darcy whirled around to meet whatever it was she saw.

  And then everything went black.

  Chapter 7

  The first thing Darcy was aware of was a strange rocking motion. His body rested on something hard, but his head was warm and comfortable. He opened his eyes and saw a sight that for a moment made him think he was dreaming.

  Elizabeth Bennet hovered over him, looking at him anxiously. She cradled his head in her lap. Her small hand caressed the ache he slowly noticed in the side of his head.

  “Thank goodness you are awake,” she whispered. “I was so worried.”

  Darcy struggled to sit up, but Elizabeth held him back.

  “Not just yet,” she said so quietly he could hardly hear her. “Please, you must listen to me.”

  “What is happening?” asked Darcy. “Where are we?”

  Elizabeth looked around. “I do not know. Some miles from Meryton. We are in a wagon.”

  Darcy made to sit up again, but Elizabeth gently placed a hand on his chest, stilling him at once.

  “Please listen to me,” she whispered. “I do not want you to get hurt.”

  Darcy stayed where he was though every part of him wanted to jump up and discover what was happening. He swallowed and took a deep breath to steady himself and nodded. Elizabeth eyed him cautiously then sighed with relief and withdrew her hand. Darcy felt a brief pang of regret.

  “I interrupted Wickham and this other man, Shaw, stealing from Mr Bingley’s house. I think they took advantage of the ball to do it,” she said. “Wickham insisted they bring me with them. I think he thought it would keep me safe. Wickham owes those men a lot of money from what I gather.”

  Darcy grunted at that but felt silent at once when Elizabeth gave him a pleading look. He nodded.

  “What happened after I found you?”

  Elizabeth bit her lip. “There was more of them. Two more. They were waiting with this cart. One of them came up behind you and hit you.” She swallowed, and her fingers played with the
edges of his jacket almost absentmindedly in her distraction. “I was — I convinced them not to — not to hurt you by telling them they could ransom you. I told them your uncle is an earl and he will pay a lot of money to get you back. They agreed as it is a way for Wickham to pay back his debts.”

  Darcy winced as the wagon went over some sharp stones. Elizabeth placed a soothing hand against the side of his head.

  “You have a splendid bump, but the skin is unbroken,” she said. “I do not know how to tend to an injured man, so I did the best I could.”

  Darcy looked up at her worried face. He felt a sudden urge to pull her toward him and comfort her. He forced himself to stay where he was.

  “Do you have any idea who they are or where they are taking us?”

  Elizabeth chewed her lip again and shook her head.

  “They originally planned to leave me somewhere some miles from home. It would give them time to get far away before I could tell anyone what had happened. But now they have you, I am not sure what they will do with me.” She trembled slightly and took a moment before speaking again. “One man, the one who hit you, was not pleased with the plan to leave me somewhere. He thought — he said I would do as Wickham’s repayment. Wickham protested, but I am not sure how effective it was.”

  Darcy’s eyes burned. On impulse, he gripped Elizabeth’s hand.

  “No one will hurt you. I promise you that.”

  Elizabeth smiled. “I know you mean well, but these men have pistols. You have no weapon. I am not sure what you can do to protect me. I can only hope they will listen to Wickham and be satisfied with whatever ransom they can get for you.” Her eyes hardened. “Unless we escape in the meantime.”

  “I assure you I will do all I can to find a way,” said Darcy. “And I will insist they add you to the ransom.”

  Elizabeth gave an incredulous smile. “And how are you going to persuade your family to provide money for me, a woman unknown to them? They have no reason to do so.”

  “Well, so you’re awake,” called a faux-cheery voice. “Just in time, too. You took quite a blow, sir. I wasn’t sure if you’d survive it.”

  With a look of resignation, Elizabeth allowed Darcy to pull himself up. His head still spun from the blow. He felt Elizabeth lean against him, discreetly giving her support while trying to hide his weakness.

  “Who are you?” he demanded.

  Several voices barked with laughter.

  “Stop the wagon,” called Shaw. The wagon came to a stop. He smiled at him. “I hope you like your vehicle. We only offer the great Mr Darcy the finest travel. Are you not grateful to us?”

  “Exceedingly,” said Darcy dryly. “I demand you let me and Miss Bennet go. You will be too far away for us to send anyone in pursuit of you.”

  Shaw sighed and sucked his teeth as though filled with regret.

  “I wish I could, Mr Darcy, I really wish I could. But you see, Miss Bennet here interrupted us, and we came away with far less than Wickham here owes us. So we have to resort to alternative arrangements to retrieve our funds.” He spoke with an overly grand accent.

  “Whatever is between you and Wickham is nothing to do with us,” said Darcy. “I demand you release us.”

  The man laughed again then his face sobered. He drew a pistol out of his coat pocket and trained it on Darcy. Elizabeth stifled a gasp and gripped Darcy’s arm as though afraid he might launch himself at him. Darcy trembled with rage, but though the gun was pointed at him, it was still dangerously close to Elizabeth. Besides, if they shot him, she would be left alone with these savages. He could not risk that. He forced himself to sit back. Shaw nodded in satisfaction.

  “That’s right,” he said. “Let us hear no more talk of demands. We are the only ones who will make them here.” He waved the gun back and forth between Darcy and Elizabeth. “Do I make myself clear?”

  Darcy did not answer for a moment. Elizabeth pressed his arm with an anxious movement, and he nodded.

  “Quite clear,” he said through gritted teeth.

  “Perhaps you should get rid of him anyway,” came another voice from the opposite side. Darcy looked to see another man there. This one was remarkably handsome, but there was an emptiness in his eyes that chilled him. “He will be a lot of trouble. I can tell.” He glanced between Darcy and Elizabeth.

  “Remember the ransom,” said Elizabeth. Though there was a slight tremble in her fingers as she clutched Darcy, her voice was steady. Darcy felt a fierce rush of pride as he looked down at her. “This is Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley. He is worth a lot of money. You can get what you are owed and even more.”

  Shaw grinned. “We intend to, my dear. Don’t concern yourself with Jameson here. He’s always raring for a fight. We need to rein him in, or he would be completely wild.”

  The men unpacked and rummaged around the cart. Elizabeth did not shrink though she must have been terrified.

  “Where are we?” asked Darcy.

  Shaw smiled. “A little place we like to visit when we pass through. You will be very cosy here, do not worry.”

  Darcy peered into the gloom. They were on an empty road, but through a line of trees, he glimpsed a rambling house.

  Jameson climbed up into the wagon to unload some gear. As he did so, he leaned against Elizabeth and caressed her neck. Elizabeth whipped her head around to snap at him, and Darcy reached out to catch him in rage but the pistol instantly trained on them again.

  “What are you doing?” Shaw asked Jameson as he sauntered out of the cabin. “Playing with the ladies again, eh?”

  “I do not see why I cannot have her,” he said in a sullen tone. “She is right here. Why can we not consider her spoils of the night? We can split what we carry, so why not her?”

  “No,” said Wickham at once. “I did not bring her with us to be harmed. No one will touch her.” He turned to Shaw. “There is no need for this. We do not wish to add to our crimes, remember? She is a lady. If the worst should happen, it will go in our favour that we did not harm her.”

  Shaw paused, considering.

  “What of it?” demanded Jameson. “We might die before then, anyway. I say we take what we can now.”

  “None of you will lay a finger on Miss Bennet,” said Darcy. In the darkness, he had gripped her hand to reassure her. “You will add her to the ransom. My family will pay a great deal for her safe return.”

  The rest of the men and Elizabeth all turned to look at him.

  “And why should they do that?” Shaw demanded. There was a gleam of interest in his eyes.

  Darcy looked at Elizabeth. Her eyes were wide.

  “Because Miss Bennet is my betrothed. We are to marry by the end of the year.”

  There was silence. Wickham burst out laughing.

  “Do not be ridiculous, Darcy. You, betrothed to Elizabeth Bennet? She cannot stand the sight of you, can you, Miss Bennet?”

  Darcy stiffened. That was not true, was it? He and Elizabeth spoke on many occasions, and though she often teased him, she had never given him the idea she disliked him. He glanced down at her. In the dark, he could see her face burned, and she could not meet his eye.

  “Well, this is a little uncomfortable,” said Shaw with a laugh. “The poor man has just discovered the woman he is to marry does not care for him. Most of us don’t find out until after the wedding.”

  “They could not be betrothed. It is not true,” said Wickham. “Miss Bennet and I have spoken about Darcy on several occasions. She cannot abide him.”

  “It is true,” said Elizabeth, finding her voice eventually. “Mr Darcy asked me to marry him just tonight. We have told my family of it and Mr Bingley. My cousin knows of it too, and he is clergyman to Mr Darcy’s aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. It will be common knowledge in a few days.”

  Wickham stared at her in bewilderment. “No, I cannot believe it. You would never marry a man like this. I know you would not. What would possibly make you change your mind about him?”

  Eliza
beth still could not meet Mr Darcy’s eye. “My cousin plans to propose to me. My mother would have insisted on me accepting him. He planned the proposal for tomorrow. I could not marry such a man.”

  Wickham smiled bitterly. “So, when you had the chance to marry another, wealthier man, you grasped it. You are more mercenary than I realised, but I suppose I cannot judge you too harshly for it, considering the situation.”

  “I do not think you are in a position to judge my actions regardless of the situation, sir,” said Elizabeth with an edge in her voice.

  “Well, Mr Darcy,” said Shaw cheerfully. “What do you make of all this? Are you happy to marry Miss Bennet, knowing she only chose you because she would have been forced to take a less desirable option?”

  With considerable effort, Darcy pushed the knowledge that Elizabeth despised him to one side.

  “I was already aware of that,” he lied. “But I am not the first man to lose his heart to a woman even though he knows she does not care for him. I am confident I have the resources at my disposal to change her mind in due course.”

  Shaw burst out laughing and shook his head.

  “Of course you do. Your type always has that conviction, don’t you? You can have anything you want. Well, I am sorry, Jameson. If Miss Bennet is to marry Mr Darcy, we can get far more for them as a pair. Her family will be very keen to pay whatever we demand to get her back, knowing she will make their fortune once she marries. I am afraid you are out of luck this time.”

 

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