Mr Darcy- My Hero

by Zoë Burton

  “Oh?”

  “Yes, I am certain of it. For you see, I have it on good authority that Mr. Darcy is already engaged to his cousin, Miss Anne De Bourgh.” She turned to Mr. Collins, who was sitting nearby, to ask, “You hold the living to the De Bourgh parish, do you not? Can you confirm or deny the report?”

  “Unfortunately, no, my esteemed patroness, Lady Catherine De Bourgh is too important to share such personal details about her family with a lowly, though cherished, clergyman such as myself.”

  Elizabeth rolled her eyes at her cousin’s ridiculous answer. Why can he not just say no and leave it at that, she wondered. She was relieved that he was unable to confirm the report of the obviously jealous Miss Bingley, but Elizabeth admitted to herself that the whole thing made her uneasy. After being subjected to Mr. Wickham’s incredible and obviously false tale last evening, she wanted nothing more than to be in Mr. Darcy’s arms as he assured her of his love, and his availability. She was forced to turn her attention away from her introspection when Miss Bingley spoke again.

  “Well, I am quite certain it is true. Why would Mr. Wickham lie about it? Surely, Miss Elizabeth, you would not want Mr. Darcy to break his cousin’s heart and go against his family’s wishes to marry you?”

  Eyebrows raised and head tilted, Elizabeth’s reply was delivered sweetly but firmly, “Indeed not, but then, Miss Bingley, you would also be required to give up your hopes in that direction, were your statements in fact true.” No other words were needed as Caroline paled and quickly tried to change the subject.

  Mrs. Bennet, who had spent the majority of the conversation attempting to make sense of it, finally added her two pence when she understood that Mr. Bingley’s sister had her eye on Mr. Darcy for herself. In her typical loud fashion, she interrupted her guest and declared, “Oh, no! Mr. Darcy is far too honorable a man to ever offer for our Lizzy if he were engaged elsewhere! And why should he offer for a sickly, thin woman—which is how Mr. Collins has described Miss De Bourgh to us—when he can have a healthy, voluptuous wife like Elizabeth? She is everything a man desires!”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Bennet, that will be enough,” Mr. Bennet boomed from the doorway. Having heard his wife begin after being quiet so long, he knew what was coming and so rushed to the drawing-room from his study next door to try and stem the flow. “I should like to speak to you in my bookroom, if I may?”

  “Now? I have guests! I cannot speak with you now, you will have to wait.”

  “Yes, now, Mrs. Bennet,” her husband thundered.

  With a squeak, she rose and hurriedly left the drawing room. Mr. Bennet closed the door behind them, leaving his daughters to their guests.

  After a pause, Elizabeth said, “As indiscreet as my mother’s words were, I have to say that I agree with them. Your purpose, Miss Bingley, is thwarted. I have come to know my betrothed very well, and I know he would not offer for me if his honor were engaged elsewhere. I do not know who the source of your information is, but I should be very careful to whom I gave credence, were I you.” She looked purposefully to her guest, noting the lady’s pale features and shocked eyes. “Now,” she continued, “what say you of the weather?”

  Miss Bingley and her sister did not stay much longer before they took their leave. The Bennets were relieved to have them out of the house, even Jane, who could not understand why her friend would say such things.

  Caroline spent the entire three mile ride back to Netherfield complaining to Louisa about the visit and her lack of desire for a connection to such a common and ill-bred family.

  Chapter 6

  The day before Darcy was scheduled to return to Meryton, Elizabeth decided to walk to the stable to visit the barn cat, which had recently given birth to kittens. Being so close to the house, she did not ask a maid to accompany her. In addition, Longbourn had a coachman and a groom in their employ, and both could usually be found at work in the building, so she would not be truly alone.

  She cheerily greeted the horses as she walked past their stalls, and when she reached the last compartment on the left-hand side, she quietly opened the door to let herself in. She pulled it closed before she knelt in the straw to pet the cat and admire the month-old babies. Her attention was so focused on them that she was unaware of the stall door opening again, until the mama cat let out a hiss. Startled, Elizabeth dropped the kitten just as a hand clamped over her mouth.

  An arm then snaked around her waist and pulled her to her feet. She was held with her back against her assailant’s chest. She clawed at his arms and then his face. When she made contact with his cheek, scraping her nails across it, he quietly cursed. Letting go of her mouth, he spun her around and slapped her, hard, stunning her and causing her to fall to her knees. The man hauled her up by her arm and gripped her face with his free hand.

  “Keep your mouth shut and your hands to yourself, do you hear me?” When she did not immediately respond, he shook her until she nodded her consent.

  Turning her back around and covering her mouth once again with his hand, he guided Elizabeth out the back of the stable to the sheep barn. At this time of year and this hour of the day, the building was largely empty, the sheep turned out to pasture. Dragging her to the small room at the end of the barn, the man shoved her down on the cot in the corner.

  Elizabeth, face stinging but her senses largely returned, had never been more afraid in her life. She did not know what this man wanted but knew deep in her heart it would not turn out well if she could not escape. She landed hard on the cot and quickly rolled herself over to see who had assaulted her.

  “Mr. Wickham!” she exclaimed. Her fear rose exponentially.

  Wickham grinned salaciously at her. “Miss Elizabeth. How delightful of you to join me here. As I said before, I am eager to get to know you better. I had not imagined you felt the same.”

  “I have not joined you here willingly, as you well know.”

  “Ah, but no one else does. They will assume that you were an eager participant, perhaps even that you initiated our rendezvous.”

  “You are assuming anyone will know.”

  “Trust me, Miss Elizabeth, the evidence will be incontrovertible.”

  So saying, he threw himself on top of her, forcing her to accept his kiss and tearing at her clothes.

  Elizabeth was desperate. She was not about to allow this rake to have his way with her and ruin her reputation and possibly her future. She pushed at him and beat him with her fists to little avail. He struck her again, as hard as he could, and once more she was too stunned to respond. As her senses began to come back, she realized that he had lifted off her a little and had begun raising her skirts. At that moment, she lifted her knee as hard as she could, connecting with his person and grinding into him.

  Just as she heard him scream, the door to the room crashed back against the wall and four figures rushed in. Wickham, who had collapsed on top of her in pain, was suddenly gone and she curled up in a ball.

  It was Wickham’s turn to be stunned and out of his senses. One moment he was having his way with the feisty Bennet girl and the next his crotch was exploding in pain and he was flying through the air. Yanked up by his collar, he received several strikes to his face and torso before he was left alone. Finally he lay on the floor, up against the wall, still holding his most private area in his hands and feeling as though he might cast up his accounts. Before he could recover, he was unceremoniously hauled up and dragged out of the barn.

  On the other side of the room, Mr. Darcy was kneeling beside the cot, gently stroking his betrothed’s hair away from her face. “Elizabeth? Can you hear me? It is Fitzwilliam. Your father is here with me.”

  Elizabeth’s mind was still reeling from the shock of the assault. Wickham’s words began rolling through her memory, and fear of Darcy’s reaction began to take hold. Would he think she had allowed this, that she had lured that horrible man to this room for an assignation? She began to sob.

  “I am sorry. I am so sorry.”


  Immediately, Darcy had her in his arms. He turned and sat on the cot, holding her in his lap. Mr. Bennet, seeing the need both had for a private moment to reassure each other, walked to the far side of the room and turned his back.

  “None of this is your fault, Elizabeth. You have nothing to be ashamed of. Would that I had called that monster out last summer! I had no idea he was here, my love, or I would not have left you unprotected. I must ask your forgiveness for my oversight.”

  As he spoke, Darcy held Elizabeth closely, rubbing her back and kissing her hair. At first, she resisted, the memory of her ordeal causing her to reject even the idea of being touched. However, as Darcy continued to speak softly to her, she began to relax with the realization that this was the man she loved, and he had not turned from her. Instead, he was treating her with infinite tenderness, gentleness, and care; as though she were the most precious thing he had ever held.

  “This is not your fault, Fitzwilliam. You could not have known he was here. He told such terrible stories about you! I knew they could not possibly be true. He painted the picture of a totally different gentleman than the one I fell in love with.” A thought suddenly re-entered her mind. “I did not invite him here, Fitzwilliam. I did not arrange an assignation with him. I did not want this, what he tried to do. You must believe me!”

  “Shhh, my love, I do believe you.” He lifted her chin so he could look into her eyes and added, “I trust you with my heart and my name. You would never betray me in any manner. I would not have made you the offer of my hand had I thought otherwise. Wickham is a liar and a rake, among other things. I promise you, I will find out how he came to be in Meryton, and he will pay a dear price for hurting you.”

  “Will you share with me how you know him?”

  “Yes, I will, but later. Right now, we need to get you home so Mr. Jones can examine you. You will do whatever he says so that you recover quickly, will you not?”

  “I will, for you.” She realized with a start that he had returned early. “Fitzwilliam! You were not expected until tomorrow. I am delighted for your early return, but how did you manage it?”

  He stood her up so he could rise himself, and as he picked her up to carry her to the house, explained that his solicitor had completed her settlement papers early. Since he had finished everything he came to town to do, he decided that returning a day early to surprise his beloved was an excellent choice to make.

  Elizabeth hugged his neck, saying softly, “I am so glad you did.”

  Following along behind them, Mr. Bennet had to agree. Elizabeth might not have been missed for hours had Mr. Darcy not returned early and asked to see her. The elder man shuddered to think of the condition his second daughter might be in right now were it not for this man.

  Chapter 7

  The sight of Elizabeth being carried into the house in Mr. Darcy’s arms was enough to alarm the entire household. Exclamations followed him as, without faltering, he headed straight to the staircase with his burden. Mr. Bennet could be heard behind him directing Jane to help Elizabeth and sending Mr. Hill for the apothecary.

  Once the second floor was gained, Elizabeth directed him to her rooms, where he deposited her gently on the bed with a kiss to her forehead.

  “I love you, Elizabeth. I am not leaving this room until I am certain you understand this. Nothing Wickham or anyone else could ever do will change that. Do you hear me?”

  At his gentle reassurance, Elizabeth began once again to cry. “Yes, Fitzwilliam, I do, and I understand. I love you, as well.”

  Darcy hugged her, intending for it to be brief, but when she clung to him, he had not the heart to let her go. His own emotions welling, they cried together for a few minutes as Jane wandered about the room, preparing for her sister’s bath and change of clothes.

  Jane said a silent prayer as she worked, grateful for this man who loved Elizabeth so much, but also sad that she had someone else to turn to now. While she would miss the closeness they had shared all their lives, she could not be happier that her closest sister would be cared for so tenderly for the rest of her life.

  When the tub and first buckets of water arrived, Darcy and Elizabeth separated and he returned downstairs, joining Mr. Bennet in the bookroom. The pair spoke with the magistrate and sat in on his interview with the coachman and groom. When the meeting was over and the men’s statements taken, they were dismissed. Turning to the magistrate, Darcy asked about Wickham and his whereabouts.

  “The lieutenant is currently locked in the store room of the blacksmith shop. An express has been sent to the county magistrate, but it will be three or four days before he arrives to take custody. I will need to speak to Mr. Jones before I take my leave. You,” he looked at Mr. Darcy, “gave him quite the beating.”

  “If you could see the bruises on Miss Elizabeth’s face, you would understand why he got what he did,” Darcy replied fiercely.

  “Of that, I have no doubt. Thankfully, I have enough evidence against Mr. Wickham that I will not need to interview his victim, as well. And I am quite certain Mr. Jones will be able to give me an accurate description of her injuries. Ah, there he is now!”

  Mr. Jones entered the room, having just finished his examination. His look was somber, and it was clear that he was unhappy that one of “his” girls was treated in such a harsh manner.

  Bowing to the gentlemen gathered in the room, he asked for a spot of port before he started. They all settled in chairs and on the settee while Mr. Bennet poured libations for everyone. Once he was also seated, the apothecary began.

  “I trust the blackguard who did this to Miss Elizabeth has been at the very least arrested?” Upon receiving the assurances of the magistrate that it was so, he continued his report. “Miss Elizabeth’s injuries are far better than they could be. She has scratches on her face, arms, and legs, and contusions on her face, and pain in her neck. It appears he struck her, more than once, and with enough force to snap her head back. I see no handprints; what I do see indicates he used a closed fist.

  “The good news is, she was not violated. There is bruising around her mouth that indicates he forced her to kiss him. She has admitted as much to me. Likely that bruising will heal faster than the rest, as it was not as deep. It will take time, but she will heal, physically at least.

  “Emotionally, she may be a bit shy of company for quite a while.” Turning to Mr. Darcy, he added, “She tells me you assured her of your devotion. I trust you meant that, and will stand by her.”

  Darcy nodded in response, feeling too much at the description of his love’s injuries to speak.

  “Excellent. That will go a long way toward helping her heal, I am sure. I am not one that holds with a notion a woman is responsible when a man treats her cavalierly. I have seen too much in my years as the only medical man in the area not to see the truth of things. Those ladies that recover well have a loving and supportive husband and family. Those that carry their devastation forever are those without.”

  All the gentlemen present were silent as they contemplated Mr. Jones’ words. Elizabeth was too dear to most of them to contemplate leaving her to her own devices. They silently vowed to love her through it and make sure those around her loved and respected her, as well.

  Soon, Mr. Jones and the magistrate took their leave. Mr. Darcy stayed to supper, though Elizabeth had to take a tray in her room. He went up, along with Mr. Bennet, to wish her a good night before heading back to Netherfield.

  ~~~***~~~

  There were now just two weeks until the wedding. Due to Elizabeth’s injuries, she and Darcy were excused from most of the neighborhood celebrations. Not wanting her reputation damaged, the story was put out that she fell while in the stable, trying to reach the kittens, which she thought were in the loft.

  “A gentlewoman climbing into a loft is scandalous enough, I should think,” Elizabeth stated dryly, causing her father and betrothed to laugh.

  “I would have to agree, but given your history, Daughter, it would not be
out of the realm of possibility in the minds of the neighborhood.”

  Rolling her eyes, she agreed, then changed the subject. “No one has said why he did this to me. Has anyone asked him?”

  The gentlemen grew quiet for a moment and then Darcy gently took her hand as he explained, “He admitted to the county magistrate that he hurt you to get revenge himself for the wrongs I supposedly did him. You remember the story of our interactions that I told you the day after the incident?” When Elizabeth nodded, he went on, “His desire was to ruin my happiness by harming you in such a way that you would end our engagement. He spared no thought for you or your future, nor did he take into consideration the depth of my love for you. There is nothing he could have done to you that would have caused me to walk away. In the end, he was thwarted completely.”

  Elizabeth smiled, pulling one of her hands away to cup his cheek. “I love you.”

  “I love you.”

  He leaned in to steal a tender kiss as Mr. Bennet looked the other way, overcome with emotion at the gentle manner in which Mr. Darcy spoke to his favorite child. The glow on Elizabeth’s face assured her father of her happiness with the match. He was delighted; however, he felt it incumbent upon him to curb their display.

  “Lizzy,” he asked, “have you thought to ask Mr. Darcy about Miss Bingley’s report to you?”

  “No, I have not. I will do so now, though I know it must be a gross falsehood. Thank you, Papa.” Elizabeth turned to her betrothed. “Fitzwilliam, Miss Bingley was here the other day to visit us, and she advised me that you are already engaged to your cousin, Miss De Bourgh. She applied to Mr. Collins for confirmation, though he was unable to provide it. Mama assured her, as did I, that you were too honorable to offer for me if you were bound to her.”

  “I would never have asked for your hand if I had not been free to do so. I am glad you understand that.” He smiled at her tenderly. “However, for years my aunt has been speaking of a verbal agreement between her and my mother for Anne and me to wed. My father assured me before his death that there was no agreement that he was aware of, and as he was my only remaining parent, his was the only opinion that mattered. I admit I have left my aunt to continue to push us at each other. It seemed far more respectful to remain quiet than to engage her in what would end up an argument.”