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Thursday's Child Page 6

by Pat Santarsiero


  When the carriage stopped at the address, Elizabeth looked around in disgust. There seemed to be a foul odour in the air and a feeling of depression hovered. As soon as she was handed down from the carriage, several children, dressed in little better than rags, clamoured about her, begging for change.

  The colonel immediately endeavoured to chase them away, but Elizabeth begged his patience whilst she reached into her reticule and produced several coins and handed them to the children. She could not help but feel sorry for their wretchedness.

  “I’m afraid that will only attract others” he said. “We’d better hurry inside.” He offered her his arm, and they crossed the street to the apartments they were seeking. As they climbed the stairs, the colonel instructed Elizabeth to stay behind him. He approached the door to the particular apartment they sought.

  He knocked soundly, and, after a few moments, Wickham swung the door open. Upon seeing Colonel Fitzwilliam standing in front of him, he immediately tried to slam it shut. However, the colonel was too quick for him and stopped the door from closing with his boot. Jerking the door forward, he pushed his way past Wickham and entered the room.

  Lounging upon the bed was a rather scantily clad Lydia.

  Elizabeth was close at Colonel Fitzwilliam’s heels. “Lydia!” she exclaimed. “Have you no decency? Put on something to cover yourself!”

  Lydia sat up and gave her sister a look of indifference. “What are you doing here?”

  Unable to hide her shock, Elizabeth immediately grabbed Lydia’s dressing gown and demanded that she put it on.

  As Wickham made a lunge toward Colonel Fitzwilliam, Elizabeth heard the sound of a sword leaving its scabbard. As she turned, she saw Wickham, quite pale, with a blade pressed under his chin.

  “Why don’t we go somewhere private and have a little conversation?” suggested the good colonel. Wickham was barely able to nod his head. The colonel withdrew his sword, and the two men exited the room and proceeded downstairs.

  As soon as they left, Elizabeth was standing over her sister. “How could you act so imprudently? Have you no idea what scandal this will cause our family should the particulars become known?”

  “Oh la, who cares of such things? Wickie and I will be married, and then all will be well.”

  Elizabeth was on the verge of informing Lydia the price demanded for such a marriage to come about but thought better of it. She knew if Lydia was indeed to marry Mr. Wickham, it would be best if she didn’t discover, practically upon her wedding day, the scoundrel that he was. She will have the rest of her life to learn that, thought Elizabeth.

  Downstairs the two men were seated at a table in the pub. Wickham had a smirk on his face that the colonel was just itching to wipe off. Had it been up to him, Wickham would never have survived the Ramsgate incident. He was not going to let Wickham get away with this sort of thing again. He would either marry Lydia, or he would find himself at the end of the colonel’s sword.

  “Where is my money?” demanded Wickham.

  “Do you think me fool enough to hand over the money before you are married? The family has agreed to pay your demands only on the condition that you immediately proceed with the wedding. And,” continued the colonel, “I am here to see that you do. You will not receive a farthing until after the ceremony.”

  Wickham’s smirk was sufficiently wiped off as far as the colonel was concerned. He knew Wickham would be facing debtor’s prison if he didn’t come up with some money soon. He had no choice but to go through with this marriage.

  Never one to show any sign of weakness, Wickham commented, “I see you are making a good impression as the hero for Lydia’s sister. She is exceedingly pretty. Too bad I did not meet her first. I would certainly have liked to have had my way with that one. Her ample figure could keep me well occupied for weeks!”

  “You win the prize, hands down, as the most despicable man of my acquaintance, Wickham. That girl upstairs is far too young and naïve to know what she is getting herself into. I pity the day she learns of the misery she will have to endure as your wife. No one deserves such a fate.”

  “Perhaps we could come to some other resolution,” suggested Wickham.

  “What do you mean?” the colonel practically growled.

  Leaning across the table, Wickham lowered his voice. “Lydia is already ruined. One more gentleman’s attentions could hardly make a difference. She can be quite entertaining. You could have her and half the money too. All you would have to do is let me escape.”

  Wickham quickly felt the sting of a fist upon his jaw. The colonel swore under his breath as he felt the pain radiate throughout his hand. However, he had to admit he felt much better having let off a little steam. Wickham was fortunate they were in full view of other patrons; for given the opportunity, the colonel would have gladly beaten him senseless. A few customers looked over, but upon seeing the venom of the colonel’s countenance, quickly determined it was best to mind their own business.

  It was decided that the wedding would take place in London in three days’ time. It would take some doing, but it would be accomplished nevertheless. The colonel could not spare any more time babysitting Wickham as he had to return to his regiment, and Elizabeth had a previous engagement in Scotland.

  A special license would be required, and Colonel Fitzwilliam escorted Mr. Wickham to make the necessary arrangements. Elizabeth had the carriage drop her off at Cheapside. The next morning she walked the several blocks to the park and met Jane at their usual bench. She told Jane of the prior day’s occurrences, leaving out anything that she thought might offend Jane’s sensibilities. The two sisters would attend Lydia’s wedding. They agreed it would be best for everyone involved not to inform their mother until after the wedding had taken place.

  Three days later, the wedding proceeded as planned. A very uncomfortable looking Mr. Wickham took a very young and misguided Lydia Bennet as his lawfully wedded wife.

  Both Jane and Elizabeth thanked Colonel Fitzwilliam for all his help. “Indeed,” said Elizabeth, “our whole family will be forever indebted to you.”

  He bowed deeply to both sisters and graciously accepted their thanks, then headed out to rejoin his regiment.

  When it came time for Lizzy to depart from London, the two sisters hugged and promised to write each other often. Jane expressed her deep regret that she would lose her dear sister’s company, and Lizzy wanted so desperately to tell her that perhaps she would visit again during the holidays, but even as she considered the words, she knew that would not be possible given the events that would soon occur in Scotland.

  All of this deception was most upsetting, but she knew there was nothing to be done for it. She must go to Scotland and fulfil her part of the agreement. Elizabeth knew it might well be a year before she would see Jane again.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Elizabeth had stayed in her room for the entire day. When it was time for the evening meal, she descended the stairs once again and proceeded towards the dining room. There were very few people about. Since it was a Monday, most of the weekend guests had departed the night before.

  She was seated at the same small table, her appetite no better than it had been on the previous evening. Again she tried to prolong her dinner as long as possible. She sipped her tea very slowly and ordered a dessert, though she didn’t touch it.

  One by one, the other tables around her became vacant. Raising her eyes from her cup, she realized that there was now only one other patron in the dining room: him.

  As soon as their eyes met, she quickly turned away, feeling the blush his stare had created. When she rose from her seat, his eyes followed her every move as she climbed the stairs once again to her room. She knew he would not be long behind her as she went to the dressing chamber to ready herself for his arrival.

  Again in her chemise, she was grateful that the fire had been lit, for there was a slight chill in the air and a steady mist was still falling outside. She sat in front of the fire and waited.
An hour later she was still waiting.

  Maybe he isn’t coming, she thought. He certainly saw me climb the stairs. Perhaps he no longer finds me suitable for his purpose. Has he changed his mind about the entire scheme?

  Before Elizabeth’s mind could conjure up further explanations for his absence, she heard the fumbling of a key in the door. She rose from her chair, and he was immediately standing before her. He looked upon her, starting with her bare feet and continuing up to her chestnut hair and finally lowering his gaze again to linger on her eyes.

  “I did not think you were coming,” said Elizabeth softly.

  He took an unsteady step closer to her, and she could detect the smell of whiskey. For some reason Elizabeth was not alarmed. She knew she had no reason to fear him. He reached out and gently touched her cheek. He then turned his concentration to her hair as his hands caressed the curls that were so neatly arranged.

  He removed a hairpin and watched as a dark chestnut ringlet slowly unwound, falling to her shoulder. He continued this employment several more times, and Elizabeth found herself barely able to breathe, frozen in place by the unexpected feeling of intimacy.

  With a tortured look, he turned away. “Please, forgive my lateness, Madam. Are . . . are you ready to . . . proceed?”

  Elizabeth nodded. She walked slowly in the direction of the bed. As she turned back towards him, she observed him struggling with the knot of his cravat. The picture he presented could either induce mirth or tears. He certainly looked quite ridiculous, standing there unsteadily, trying unsuccessfully to undo his cravat. Yet, there was such sadness in his countenance that she could not help but feel sorry for him.

  She returned to stand before him once again. She lifted her hands and, although she had no experience with untying a gentleman’s cravat, began trying to loosen the garment from around his neck. As she did so, he looked deep into her eyes. Again his stare had the ability to undo her. She averted her gaze and concentrated on her task, her hands slightly shaking.

  He gently rested his hands on her shoulders as she untied the last of the knots and removed the neck cloth. He drew her closer. As their eyes locked, Darcy felt a sudden jolt of panic pierce his heart, and he quickly released her.

  Trying to compose himself, he walked towards the small table that held the bottle of brandy. As he lifted the bottle to pour, Elizabeth asked, “Do you think that is wise, sir?”

  He looked over to where she stood. He could not deny her effect upon him. “No, you are right. Forgive me,” he said as he returned the bottle to its original position. He knew he should not have anything more to drink; he had already over indulged. However, as much as he had imbibed that evening, his senses had not been dulled. His body was already reacting to her nearness.

  Elizabeth climbed into the bed, bringing the covers to her chin while she watched him unbutton and remove his shirt. It was not an unpleasant sight. As he started to unfasten the buttons of his breeches, she quickly turned away to stare at the fire. When he had freed himself of the garment, he climbed onto the bed beside her. He moved closer to her and inhaled the lavender scent of her hair.

  Darcy had to remind himself that this was not a romantic interlude; this was a business transaction, nothing more. However, that fact did not deter him from speculating on what it would be like to kiss her lips. How strange, he thought, he could take such liberties with her body, but to kiss her would be deemed inappropriate for their purpose.

  When he reached over to remove the covers from her, his arm brushed across her breasts, unconsciously tantalizing her nipples. A shiver went through Elizabeth’s body. As she looked into his eyes, he reached for the hem of her gown and raised it slowly to her waist. Upon feeling the soft fabric of her gown glide over her thighs, she automatically opened her legs slightly as if in anticipation.

  However, he did not move over her as he had the previous night. Instead, he lightly stroked her thighs, causing a ripple of pleasure to radiate through Elizabeth’s entire body. Elizabeth was mortified that this man, a man she hardly knew, was causing her body to react in such a manner.

  He saw the look of distress on her face and immediately realized the inappropriateness of his action and ceased his ministrations. He knelt between her thighs, his arousal becoming painful from the want of her. As he entered her, the tightness of her engulfed him, and his pain became his pleasure.

  As he increased his pace and drove deeper into the recesses of her body, Elizabeth unwillingly let a moan escape her lips. Her hands pressed against his chest as she touched his naked body for the first time. The feel of her hands, so warm and enticing, spread a trail of fire in their wake, causing Darcy to lose all control. He came in a quick succession of quakes and collapsed over her.

  ~*~

  Elizabeth could not sleep. After the gentleman had departed, she immediately was up and pacing the room. She could not account for what was happening to her. Until yesterday all knowledge of any intimacies had been erudite in origin. As a young girl, she had discovered in her father’s library some very exotic literature, but even that had not prepared her for the feelings she had just experienced. Was not a lady supposed to be indifferent to such activity and only tolerate it for the sake of procreation?

  It seemed quite unfair that unmarried young women were kept in the dark about such things. Was her reaction to this evening’s encounter depraved? One thing was for certain: she was anything but indifferent.

  Every movement, every touch had brought a reaction. The feel of his breath on her neck as he lay over her, the tingle throughout her body as he brushed against her breasts, and the feel of his hands caressing her thighs had caused her such excruciating pleasure; it had taken every ounce of control she possessed to remain motionless. As he had entered her, she wanted to cry out, but she stifled her voice, emitting only an uncontrollable moan. When she had reached up and touched his bare chest, she felt pure desire for the first time in her life.

  She must get control of both her body and mind. She only had to get through one more evening.

  Elizabeth sat down before the fire. She did not wish to be in the bed that the gentleman had just vacated. She could still smell his musky redolence upon the bed clothes. She closed her eyes; he was there before her. This would not do. However, she did not try to erase him from her mind.

  She awoke a few hours later still in front of the fireplace. She could see the dawn approaching. The rain had passed, and the sun was beginning to rise. After spending the entire previous day idle in her room, Elizabeth was anxious to be outdoors. She decided to dress early and take a walk along the beach. Carrying one of her books under her arm, she made her way down the stairs and onto the boardwalk. It was so early that there wasn’t another soul to be seen.

  She rather enjoyed being the only person about. She couldn’t imagine why she was in such a good mood, considering her situation and the confusion she had felt just a few hours before.

  But she had a wonderful sense of freedom as she now walked along the shoreline, enjoying the sun, the sand, the breeze, and the beautiful waters of St. Andrews Bay. As the waves rushed the shore, Elizabeth made a game of chasing them back to the bay and retreating as they rushed the shore again. She was so engrossed in this activity that she hadn’t noticed the gentleman standing a short distance away. He was looking at her intently.

  Darcy also had endured a rough night with not much sleep. With each of their encounters, he was becoming more conflicted and confused. Last night he was convinced he had discerned some reaction on her part during their intimacy.

  While he watched her playfulness upon the shore, he could not help but wonder at her. She was indeed an enigma. Despite her unfortunate situation, she was here before him, enjoying the gloriousness of the day as if she hadn’t a care in the world.

  They shared a brief look. He certainly could not pretend he had not seen her. He approached where she was standing.

  “Are you not jeopardizing your reputation by being seen in my company?�
� she asked.

  Darcy looked around the beach. “I believe no one else has yet awakened from their beds,” he replied.

  They began walking along the shore. “I see you are also an early riser,” he observed.

  “Yes, I would often awaken early and take long walks around the woods near my home. I am very fond of walking.”

  “Are you also very fond of reading?” he inquired, noting the book she carried.

  “I admit I do have a love of books. My father instilled that in me from a very early age. He had a wonderful library, and I loved to visit him there. When I was young, I would sit on his lap, and he would read to me. Then as I grew older and learned to read myself, we would sit there for hours, each engrossed in our own pursuits.”

  “Do you still visit your father’s library?” he asked.

  “No,” said Elizabeth, “I’m afraid that after my father’s death, our home was entailed away to a distant male cousin. I only managed to take a few of my favourite volumes upon our departure.

  “I see that you are allowed to ask personal questions of me, sir,” Elizabeth said in an almost teasing voice. “Is that not against the rules?”

  “Ah, I see your point, Madam. I guess I must allow you to ask a personal question of me then.”

  Elizabeth gave this opportunity her full attention. With only one question at her disposal, she didn’t want to waste it on something trivial. She looked up at him and asked quite seriously, “Do you believe yourself to be a good man?”

  Somewhat surprised by the question she had chosen to ask, he thought for a long moment. “That, I’m afraid, is not such an easy question to answer. I believe I have good intentions. My entire life I have always tried to do the right thing. But, sometimes life presents situations that make it hard to remain true to that ideal. I would like to believe that I am a good man. However, I will admit that the past weeks have caused me to ponder that very question myself.”

 

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