by Zoë Burton
Bennet nodded. That was a lesson he wished more people had learned. “Well, I do not know about you, but I require a drink after all that. Would you like one?”
Darcy chuckled. “I believe that to be a fine idea, sir.”
~~~***~~~
George Wickham eased himself away from the window looking into Longbourn’s book room, fading into the shadows of the large oaks that shaded the house. He had spent the days since his confrontation with Darcy mostly in hiding, following his childhood friend around and monitoring his habits. It did not take him long to figure out that Darcy was truly enamored of the Bennet girl and to begin stalking her, as well.
When he could, Wickham spent time in the local inn’s taproom, listening to the gossip of the town. That was where he received confirmation of the engagement between Darcy and Miss Elizabeth. Now, he had discovered that Darcy’s family, part of it anyway, was opposed to the match.
Wickham wanted revenge, and now he knew just how to accomplish it. He returned to the inn for a meal, and then ventured into the night to the abandoned outbuilding he had found on the other side of Longbourn. Keeping to himself, he planned out every detail. Looking around his hiding place, he thought that it would serve his needs well. Pulling an old letter and a small pencil out of his pocket, he made a list of items to purchase on the morrow. For safety’s sake, he would ride out to the next town to buy them. He did not intend to be caught, but it was always better to be safe than sorry. Tucking his paper and pencil back where he found it, Wickham lay back on the pile of rags he was using for a bed and reflected on the Darcys, in particular the current master of Pemberley.
Wickham had always been jealous of Fitzwilliam Darcy. The heir to Pemberley could do no wrong, it seemed, always receiving preferred treatment and praise for every accomplishment. Wickham received praise, as well, but his mother’s words about how little they had and how much more they needed rang in his ears. His father was a hard-working man, and well-respected on the estate. On some level, Wickham knew that his mother spent every farthing her husband earned, but as he was more often with her than with his father, it was her opinion that formed his. So, even though Wickham was not the heir to the great estate, he never learned to be happy with his lot in life and, once his mother passed away, his envy of Fitzwilliam grew and he began to rebel.
He started out with small things; leaving stall doors unlatched after riding, being too rough in his play, and sending a greased pig into the kitchens. When he was sent to Eton along with Fitzwilliam and met more young men, he began to be drawn to the ones who did not follow the rules. His tricks became meaner and had more of a tormenting quality to them. And, they were not aimed solely at Fitzwilliam any longer. By the time they entered Cambridge, Wickham was carousing with peers, involved in gambling and drinking and debauchery of all kinds. He often impersonated Fitzwilliam Darcy. His group of friends thought this was a hoot. Darcy was reserved and quiet. He excelled in both sports and academics, though he preferred solitary pursuits such as reading and riding. Few of the other boys understood his serious and studious nature.
Then came the deaths of Darcy’s father and his own and the fiasco that was his bequest in the elder Darcy’s will. Wickham’s attempted elopement with Georgiana Darcy was his first attempt at revenge. If not for the empty-headed chit’s urge to tell her brother all the details, it would have worked. He would have had a pretty, obedient, young woman in his bed, unlimited access to one of the finest estates in all England, and thirty thousand pounds in his hand. He shook his head at the memory. Too bad that did not work out. This scheme will, though. It is perfect.
Two Days Later…
Elizabeth strode with sure steps to the fence that marked the border between her father’s estate and the first of the tenant houses, on the other side of Longbourn from Netherfield. She planned today to walk along that fence to the creek and then follow the water for a bit before going home. She was expected to visit Darcy and Georgiana later today at Bingley’s estate, but she required the respite that sunshine and exercise provided before she returned to the chaos of Longbourn and her mother’s tactless, shrill pronouncements and unsolicited advice.
Having just made the turn from the fence line to the creek, Elizabeth heard a noise in the woods nearby. She stopped for a moment, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up and a feeling of apprehension overtaking her. She listened intently, hoping to determine what had made the unusual sound, but all was quiet. Shaking herself, she put the thought away, chuckling silently at her missish reaction. Turning back to the path that ran along the small stream, she began walking once again.
Suddenly, she heard quick steps behind her and before she could turn around, an arm was around her waist and a hand clamped over her mouth. Frozen for a few seconds in shock, Elizabeth did not react immediately, but when she felt herself pulled back tightly against a person’s body, she began to fight. She kicked at her attacker, and when he grunted in pain, she was able to determine that it was a man. Continuing to use her legs and feet, as well as her arms and hands, she fought to be free, but he was too strong. She scratched at his hands and face between jabs into his ribs with her elbows as he dragged her backward to the tree line. Then, the world went dark.
Wickham cursed as Elizabeth fought him with all she had, ordering her to desist. She ignored him, and her wriggling made it more difficult for him to get her out of sight. Once she scratched his face, he had had enough. Removing his arm from her waist, he struck her, and she slumped to the ground. Not checking the state of her health, Wickham picked Elizabeth back up, this time throwing her over his shoulder.
He walked steadily toward his destination, keeping to the trees as much as possible, and skirting the farms as best he could. He stopped twice to rest, unceremoniously dropping Elizabeth to the ground. The first time, he tied her hands behind her back and her legs and knees together with rope he had hidden at the site. He tied an extra cravat he had in his pocket around her mouth. It would not do for her to awaken and scream. He could not be found out before he got far away from Meryton.
Finally, he arrived at the abandoned building he had designated as his base of operations. Once more, he dropped his cargo, this time on the dirt floor of the shed. Elizabeth, who had awakened on the second leg of the trip and had wiggled around trying to get away until he had slapped her bottom and told her to behave, grunted in pain before looking around the room.
“Do not think, Miss Elizabeth, that you will escape. It will not be possible. You are here as my revenge on Darcy, my retribution for taking my inheritance and his sister and her dowry from me. You will remain in this cabin, just as you are, until someone finds you. It could be hours, days, or even weeks, before you are discovered. And Darcy will be in agony. His betrothed, lost to him; I know that it will cause him pain. I have seen the two of you together. I see the affection he has for you. I know him well…he would not offer for you if he did not love you, nor would he tolerate your family. You are important to him. He has taken from me things that were important to me, and now I am returning the favor.” Wickham tipped his hat to her. “Good day, Miss Elizabeth.” With that, he turned and exited the building, shutting the door behind him.
Elizabeth was horrified. She had known already that Mr. Wickham’s character was less than stellar. That he would stoop to kidnapping was unfathomable. As her mind raced through the facts and the possibilities, she became distraught. No one knew where she was, nor when she had left. She did not even know where she was! Worse, she had no way of escaping and making her way to help. There was no furniture in the room at all, and the manner in which Wickham had tied her made it impossible for her to walk, even if she could manage to stand.
Her stomach grumbled, reminding her that she had not yet broken her fast. That was another disheartening thing. There was neither food nor water available to her. She had read enough to know that people did not survive long without them.
Elizabeth was, however, not one to give up easily. She tried
repeatedly over the course of the day to find a way to escape her bindings. She wiggled herself all over the room, but the walls, though old, were well-constructed and the nails still firmly embedded in them, at least the ones she could reach. By the time the light began to dim, she was exhausted and hungrier and thirstier than she had ever been. She slept fitfully, her dreams filled with nightmares of what had happened and what might soon occur.
The first shafts of sunlight woke her the next morning, shining through cracks in the wooden walls. Her mouth dry and her stomach hurting, she tried once more to find a way out. She was, however, much weaker, and before long, she stilled, remaining where she was. She began to move in and out of consciousness, dreaming of Darcy and of her family between periods of blackness.
Chapter 6
Darcy sat in the library at Netherfield attending to his correspondence. His pen moved steadily across the page, only stopping to dip into the inkpot, and his mouth moved as he wrote. His focus was centered on his letters, because he hoped to have them completed before his beloved arrived from Longbourn. He was so engrossed in his work that he did not hear his sister enter the room and take a seat on a nearby settee.
Georgiana, seeing that her brother was absorbed in his writing, did not disturb him at first. She opened her book, keeping one eye on the tome and one on Darcy. Finally, he folded the letter and addressed it, and she took the opportunity to attract his attention.
“Fitzwilliam,” she began, glancing at the clock on the mantel. “Was Miss Elizabeth not supposed to be here by now?”
Darcy pulled his watch out of his pocket, checking it against the clock. “She was.” His brows came together in a frown. “I wonder where she is?” He looked up and out the window, gathering his thoughts and ordering them, examining facts and discarding speculations. Finally, he came to a conclusion, which he shared with the patiently waiting Georgiana. “Let me send a note to Longbourn. I cannot imagine what would have kept her from coming, but perhaps there was an emergency.”
His sister watched as he wrote on another piece of paper, rising to ring the bell for him. “I hope all is well. Would she not have sent a note of her own if she could not come? Maybe she is just late.”
Darcy shook his head. “No, Elizabeth is never late, and she would have at least sent a servant to inform us if she were bowing out.”
Just then, the footman entered the library. Darcy handed him the missive, with instructions to send a boy with it to Longbourn and that he should wait for a response. Before the man could turn to go, Darcy asked him to send Mrs. Nichols in. Surely Bingley’s housekeeper would know if a verbal message had been delivered. She was well-organized and nothing escaped her notice.
“You asked to see me, Mr. Darcy?”
“I did. Thank you for responding so promptly. Can you tell me if a servant has been here from Longbourn with any kind of message?”
“Oh, no, sir. We haven’t seen anyone here today at all, beyond the pair of you and the Hursts. I would have had it passed on to you immediately, in any case. Were you expecting one?”
“No, not expecting…” Darcy paused. I cannot shake a feeling of apprehension. Miss Elizabeth was supposed to visit at one o’clock today and has not arrived yet. I have sent a note to her home. I hope there is nothing wrong, and yet I cannot let go of this fear. He shook himself and then dismissed the housekeeper, then forced himself to make small talk with Georgiana while they waited for a response from Elizabeth.
He had just begun pacing the library in impatience when Mrs. Nichols entered the room once more, bearing a piece of paper. She handed it to Darcy, who paled upon opening it.
“Fitzwilliam, what is the matter?”
Darcy opened his mouth to reply to Georgiana’s question when a footman entered with another missive, handing it immediately to Darcy and exiting the room. Darcy instantly recognized the handwriting on the envelope as that of his former friend. His heart in his mouth, he swallowed an oath as he opened it and read the contents.
Darcy,
You had it all and took what was mine. Now I have taken what is yours. Miss Elizabeth is alive. For now. Good luck finding her.
W.
“What does it say? Tell me, Fitzwilliam!” Georgiana had never seen her brother with that look on his face, a combination of anger and fear.
Darcy’s gaze focused on his sister. As much as he hated to bring that blackguard’s name up to her again, he could not leave her in the dark about it. “Wickham has taken Elizabeth, I know not where.” At Georgiana’s gasp, Darcy tried to reassure her. “We will find her. All will be well.”
Her eyes filling with tears at the thought of the lady she already thought of as a sister being in the clutches of a man such as George Wickham, she begged Darcy to let her help. “What can I do, Brother, to assist? I could not bear to sit here doing nothing.”
“For now, just pray. I need to question the servants and ride to Longbourn to speak to Mr. Bennet. His note says that Elizabeth left the house before breaking her fast, probably around nine o’clock but that he could not say for certain, and that she generally only stays out for an hour. When she did not return to eat with them, they assumed she came here.”
“Instead, Wickham kidnapped her. Poor Lizzy! Oh, poor Mary, when she hears, she will be so worried!”
Darcy walked over and pulled the bell. When the footman appeared, he demanded to know who had delivered the letter from Wickham.
“’Twas a local boy, sir. One of the blacksmith's younger sons.”
“When was it delivered? Did you give it to me immediately?”
“Yes, sir. He delivered it to the front door, and I walked straight down the hall to give it to you. Made no extra stops.”
“Very good. You are dismissed. Oh, wait!” He paused for a moment as the servant stopped and turned back. “Have my horse saddled. I need to ride to Longbourn immediately.”
“Yes, sir.” Nodding, he turned once more and hurried to give the stables the message.
“Georgiana, I want you to stay in your rooms while I am gone. Lock the door and let no one in, not even your maid. I do not trust that Wickham will not attempt something with you, and use someone from the household to do it. I will tell Hurst before I leave that I have given you those orders.”
“Yes, Brother. Please bring Lizzy home quickly.” Kissing his cheek, she swiftly exited the library and took herself up the stairs, locking herself in her chambers.
Once Darcy had informed the Hursts, who were settled in the drawing room for the afternoon, he strode out the door and mounted his waiting stallion. Within minutes, he was being granted entrance to Longbourn.
~~~***~~~
Darcy and Mr. Bennet, after a brief consultation, came to the conclusion that they should make sure Wickham did not take Elizabeth to London. They needed to know where to begin the search. By Darcy’s estimation, she had been gone for seven hours.
With only a few hours of daylight left, he commissioned the fastest of Netherfield’s grooms, one whom he had asked to attend him to Longbourn, to ride first into Meryton to check the coach stop there and then on to the next one. He was to report back as soon as possible. Darcy and Bennet felt that Wickham would have entered the coach at one of those two stops. Travelling with a lady, especially one as spirited and stubborn as Elizabeth could be when angered, would not be conducive to the speed and unremarkable demeanor that he needed to get away.
While the groom was gone, Darcy and Bennet formed a plan to search the area, in case it was needed. They called in the steward, who was able to help them identify possible hiding places.
It was full dark by the time the groom returned with news that no couples had entered coaches at either stop. The gentlemen were relieved to hear that their search would be a local one. The servant, however, had more to share with them.
“I heard an interesting fact in Meryton, though, that might be meaningful to you.” He waited for nods indicating permission to speak further, continuing his tale upon receiving
them. “I recall hearing, Mr. Darcy, that you chased off a gentleman named Wickham. He left the county, so I was told, but he was seen late this morning entering the coach. The innkeeper’s wife told me he was looking all around, as though someone was after him. She said he has not been gone at all, but has been coming in to drink in the evenings, and to gamble a bit.”
“Which stop was this?” Darcy’s visage was pale at the thought that Wickham had remained nearby.
“The Meryton stop, sir.”
Darcy cursed, turning to face the window. Bennet dismissed the groom before addressing his companion. “So it seems Mr. Wickham has been watching you.”
“And Elizabeth, is my guess. If he has hurt her, I swear I will tear this country apart looking for him.”
“It is too late to begin the search. We have already checked this house and the stables and outbuildings. You are welcome to spend the night here.”
“Thank you, but my sister is locked in her chambers awaiting word from me. I will return to Netherfield, but will be back at first light. I will set the servants there to searching the house and grounds before I ride over here.”
“Very good.” Bennet put his hand on Darcy’s shoulder and squeezed. “We will find her, and she will be well. We must cling to that.”
Darcy nodded, giving Bennet a small smile, before striding out of the book room.
~~~***~~~
Darcy was back just as dawn broke the next morning. He had slept very little, worry over his beloved and anger at his childhood friend eating at him. He and Bennet hastily ingested a quick meal before addressing the gathered gentry, servants, and tenants of the local estates. Word had spread of Miss Elizabeth’s disappearance, and there were many who were eager to help find her.
They searched the entire day, starting with the farms attached to Longbourn and working their way outward. Every building they found was inspected, every attic, every hayloft, every cellar. Darcy was tireless, pushing himself and the men with him. Eventually, though, darkness once again enveloped the land and Elizabeth remained missing.
