Mr. Darcy's Forbidden Love

by Brenda Webb

  Landingham nodded, but before he could say anything, their hostess stood and addressed the footman standing stiffly against the wall. “Send for my guards, have my driver and four of my best marksmen bring the carriage to the front door without delay.”

  “You expect trouble?” Audrey enquired as the servant rushed to do the Mistress’ bidding.

  “If my nephew is drinking, we may face strong opposition. John has been beyond the reach of reason for some time. I should have intervened before now, but today is as good as any to start. As soon as my carriage is ready, you may follow me to Gatesbridge. I shall retrieve not only Miss Bennet but also my niece. I will no longer bear John’s foolish behaviour.”

  With that, Lady Hawthorne quitted the room, leaving the rest to ponder what might happen when they arrived at Gatesbridge Manor.

  Georgiana began to sputter, “I… I am afraid. But only for Miss Bennet and Miss Wilkens, not for myself.”

  Lord Landingham moved to her, pulling her into a tight embrace. “Of course you are, sweetheart. We all are,” he breathed into her hair. “You have always cared more about the welfare of others. That is something I have always admired about you.”

  Landingham smiled over Georgiana’s head at Audrey, who tried to return it, though her heart was heavy. Marshall’s words of admiration touched on what she had learned only that morning. George Wickham had insinuated himself into her niece’s company at the art gallery by convincing her of his sincerity and persuading her to keep his presence undisclosed.

  By keeping that secret, she had almost been taken from them, and her godfather had paid a steep price. If the bullet that grazed Marshall’s head had been one-quarter inch closer, he surely would have died. Watching him now with Georgiana, Audrey wondered if, when he, Fitzwilliam and Richard knew the truth, would they still look upon the young woman’s soft heart as a virtue, or would they think it a liability.

  ~~~*~~~

  Reaching the main road, Mr. Drummond whipped the horses into a gallop and soon the carriage was bouncing from side to side over the pocked and pitted surface. Daylight was breaking, but tall trees along both sides of the road cast long shadows, making navigation dangerous. And since the vehicle was devoid of any passengers or luggage, there was no weight to hold it steady. Just the same, despite the danger, the old servant felt that he had no choice but to hurry—not after what Miss Wilkens had divulged that morning. While he had never respected the son, he had not suspected that Mr. Wilkens’ heir was capable of such cruelty to his own sister or those under his roof.

  His usual habit of awakening early to feed the animals had put him at the stables in time to hear Miss Wilkens’ insistent rapping on the door. Years before, he had found her in this same manner—only then, she had come to beg him to give her riding lessons because her father had not the time or patience to do so. The old Master had been more than willing to allow his instruction, and thus, he had spent that summer teaching Miss Wilkens to ride safely and had become very fond of her.

  Nevertheless, after that summer, he had not seen her as often, as he had to leave the livery in order to take care of his mother who lived in a tenant’s cottage. In fact, he had not seen much of her since his return to the livery after his mother’s death. Yet, after she explained why she had to get to her aunt’s estate, he knew he could not refuse. He had assured her that a carriage would be ready and waiting when she was.

  Mr. Drummond had kept his word. The carriage stood just out of sight behind a copse of trees near the stables when the Mistress and her guest ran out the back door of the manor. He had almost urged the horses forward to collect them but decided to wait until they cleared the manicured lawn. That choice was most fortunate, as the ladies had only gone about a hundred feet when Lord Wilkens and his men emerged from out of nowhere to surround them. At that instant, he knew that they were doomed unless he could bring help—thus, his reason for trying to reach Hawthorne Hall. Lady Hawthorne was the only one capable of controlling her nephew.

  Amazed that he and the carriage were forgotten in the hubbub surrounding the capture of the two women, he had raced the horses to the end of the drive the minute the throng entered the house. Now careening down the road, sunlight began to illuminate the way. He breathed a sigh of relief as he caught the sight up ahead of the large, wrought iron gate announcing the entrance to Hawthorne Hall. Turning into the drive, he urged the horses even faster, cracking the whip just above their backs. As he rounded the curve to the main drive, the outline of another carriage appeared, coming towards him at a steady pace. As they closed the gap, he could see two coaches trailing the carriage. Pulling his steeds to a stop, Mr. Drummond jumped from the vehicle and ran towards the woman who was exiting the other carriage.

  “Lady Hawthorne! Lady Hawthorne!”

  ~~~*~~~

  Gatesbridge Manor

  Wilkens’ Study

  Alfreda and Elizabeth, each with hands tied behind their backs and an armed guard on either side, stood before Lord Wilkens. He occupied the large leather chair behind his desk and wore an expression of sneering superiority. At the spectacle of his delight, Elizabeth noted the frightened look on his sister’s face and became incensed.

  “Untie us this minute you arrogant fool! If you do not allow us to leave, I assure you that I have loved ones who will hunt you down and call you out!”

  The smile on Wilkens’ face fell as he rose to his feet and walked around the desk. Standing menacingly before her, he noted the discolouration and cut that Wickham had left on her cheek. Suddenly, he drew back and slapped her in the exact place. She did not cry out, though her eyes involuntarily filled with tears. Instead, she glared at him with all the hatred she could muster.

  “Maybe that will teach you never again to speak to a man as though you are his equal.”

  Alfreda cried out. “Stop! If you have no conscience, do you not at least fear her family? Most men would kill you for what you have done!”

  Wilkens’ turned on his sister. “No one, not even her family, can do anything once we are married.”

  “Married?” Alfreda exclaimed. “She will never marry you!”

  Wilkens eyes returned to Elizabeth. “She WILL marry me! Or she shall have a tragic accident. It is her choice.”

  Elizabeth spat out, “I would rather die!”

  Wilkens reared back to hit her again, only halting when the butler knocked and opened the door without waiting.

  “Master, excuse me, but your aunt has arrived unannounced and—”

  Wilkens held up a hand to silence the butler. At the same time, he pulled the gag hanging around Elizabeth’s neck back up to cover her mouth and motioned for the other guard to do the same to his sister. Then he commanded, “Lock them in one of the guest rooms and stay there. They had better not escape if you understand what is good for you.”

  As both women were dragged from the room, Alfreda looked back to see her brother taking the pistol from his desk and placing it in his coat pocket. Catching her watching, all expression left Wilkens’ face as he ordered, “Get them out of here now!”

  It was not until they were alone that he addressed the butler again. “Continue, Cuthbert”

  “As I was saying, when I opened the front door, Lady Hawthorne walked in without hesitation. She said to tell you that she would wait for you in the library and that you would meet her there as soon as possible, if you were wise.”

  “Is she alone?”

  “No, sir. There is a lady and a gentleman with her.”

  The butler made no mention that Lady Hawthorne also had two armed guards who accompanied her to the library and four others who were hidden just inside the anteroom. Nor did he inform him that Wilkens’ aunt had threatened to have him and his wife prosecuted as accomplices if anything had happened to her niece or Miss Bennet.

  Neither Cuthbert nor his wife had ever failed to carry out Lord Wilkens’ orders, even when they did not agree with them. However, they could not help but notice how bizarre his behaviou
r had become since his father’s death, especially when he drank excessively. But in no way did they wish to be held responsible for what he ordered them to do, and all they could hope for was that Lady Hawthorne would make Lord Wilkens behave in a more civilized manner.

  Thus the butler’s relief was palpable when the master replied, “Tell my meddling aunt I shall be there shortly.”

  Hurrying from the study, Cuthbert was eager to do just that.

  ~~~*~~~

  Lady Hawthorne sat directly across from Audrey Ashcroft on matching upholstered chairs, while Lord Landingham leaned against the mantel surrounding the fireplace. As she studied the room, she recalled when her late brother had insisted she come to admire the furnishings, all having been redone in corals, tans and dark greens. They looked so very lovely that day—fine, imported fabrics complimenting the dark mahogany of the bookshelves and tables. She sighed. It seemed ages ago. She had not bothered to visit in almost a year—not since finding her nephew unconscious in this very room. Drinking until he could no longer walk, he had fallen and then vomited on the expensive hand-loomed carpet. It was a painful example of how debauched he had become since his father’s death.

  Shaking that image from her mind, Lady Hawthorne glanced at Audrey and tried to smile. They hoped that John would focus on them and Landingham, never suspecting that there were two former Bow Street Runners hidden behind the bookshelves on either side. She knew that Landingham carried a pistol, and Audrey was equally armed with a small calibre gun that she hid under the reticule in her lap. But no one knew that hidden in the pocket of her skirt, she too gripped a one-shot pistol that Horace had given her shortly after they married.

  Feeling sure that they were as prepared as they could possibly be, she tried to relax and had just exchanged exasperated looks with Audrey when the door flew open and Wilkens stormed in, followed by a meek Mr. Cuthbert. Wilkens’ irritation was clear, but equally as obvious was the smell of liquor that accompanied his entrance. He sneered at Audrey Ashcroft and Lord Landingham before turning to address his aunt.

  “What can I do for you, Aunt? Lost your spectacles again?”

  Lady Hawthorne stood and took a step towards Wilkens, her hold on the gun handle tightening. “I do not need spectacles to see that you are a poor excuse for a man. You stink of strong drink, and you address me like a common blackguard!”

  Wilkens fists balled and he, too, stepped closer. “This is my home! Yet you address me however you see fit!”

  “My condemnation is no more than you deserve for your actions!”

  Reaching into his coat, Lord Wilkens withdrew the hidden pistol. At once, the men stepped from behind the bookshelves with guns drawn and aimed. And as Wilkens’ gaze flitted from one weapon to the next, he was stunned to see that even Landingham, his aunt and Lady Ashcroft had guns trained on his heart. Taken aback that he had been ensnared in his own home, he looked about for Cuthbert, but the butler had quietly exited the room.

  Landingham walked over to stand by Violet Hawthorne, never taking his eyes from Wilkens. “Put the gun on the table.”

  Wilkens hesitated only a second before complying. He laid the gun on a small table next to the chair where his aunt had been sitting. However, his posture and demeanour were still defiant.

  “So, you felt you needed armed guards to make your point.”

  “And I was right, since it seems force is all you understand, Nephew. I shall get directly to the point. Where are my niece and Miss Bennet?”

  Wilkens chuckled mirthlessly. “I assume they are asleep in their beds at this hour.”

  Just then Mr. Drummond stepped into the room, hat in hand, gaining his attention. If possible, Wilkens’ expression darkened even more as he glared at the old liveryman.

  Lady Hawthorne goaded, “Shall I have Mr. Drummond reiterate why he arrived at my estate this morning with an empty carriage?”

  Wilkens’ eyes fell to the floor, but he did not reply.

  “I want Alfreda and Miss Bennet brought here immediately!”

  Cuthbert had reappeared at the doorway behind Mr. Drummond, and her command was sufficient for him to act. As the butler hurried to comply, Wilkens taunted his aunt.

  “Why do you care about Miss Bennet? She is nothing to you.”

  “I beg your pardon. She is nothing to you! To me, she is a friend. No woman should be treated as a trophy, a piece of property or as nothing more than one step above an animal. Miss Bennet deserves to make her own choices, as does my niece.”

  At the mention of Alfreda, Wilkens’ brows furrowed. “What has my sister to do with Miss Bennet?”

  “Alfreda will no longer be under your control. She is going home with me.”

  “No! I will not allow it!” Wilkens shouted, bringing all the men a step closer.

  “You have no choice. I know of your gambling debts, the brothel you and your friends built and fund, as well as all the other losses you have incurred. In other words, I hold all the cards in this game.” Glancing to the side, Violet gave Audrey a determined look before continuing, “I do not have to leave you a farthing in my will, as my Horace left all those decisions to me, and as my least favourite relation, it would suit me to leave you penniless.”

  “You cannot… you will not!” Wilkens sputtered. “Who would be your heir? You have no one left but Alfreda and me?”

  Lady Hawthorne’s small smile did not waver, and she continued to stare at him until he comprehended.

  “No! You cannot leave everything to her! She will only attract some low-life with no fortune, and he will have everything our family has accumulated without an ounce of effort.”

  “Why should I leave all that my dear husband and his forefathers worked for to a man who would do what you have done to Alfreda and Miss Bennet, let alone one who would threaten to kill me?” Her mien darkened. “I would rather my niece inherit everything. Besides, you will not need it where you are going.”

  Lady Hawthorne then addressed the two Bow Street Runners. “Hold my nephew here. I shall send for the local magistrate when I return to Hawthorne Hall, and we shall discuss what charges he will face.”

  Wilkens began sputtering threats only to go uncharacteristically silent as Alfreda and Elizabeth were brought into the room—his recent handiwork now plain for all to view. The women hurried to embrace each other, and through tears, both captives were inspected. The now swollen, darker bruise on Elizabeth’s face was duly noted, fuelling Landingham’s anger. Acting as though he was only going to inspect the injury, he passed Wilkens then suddenly turned and knocked him to the floor with a steely right hook.

  A cracking sound preceded Wilkens’ crash to the floor. Cuthbert’s eyes grew large, and the old butler swallowed hard as Landingham stepped in front of him and seemed to debate whether to hit him as well. Instead, he grabbed him by the front of his shirt, almost choking him as he pulled him closer and forced the man on the tips of his toes.

  “If I hear that you helped this sorry excuse for a man or anyone else abuse another person ever again, I shall hunt you down no matter how long it takes and extract justice. Is that understood?”

  The servant’s head bobbed up and down like a duck in water. “No, sir! I mean, yes, sir!”

  Landingham shoved Cuthbert away, leaving him to regain his balance.

  Lady Hawthorne addressed Alfreda as she led her towards the door. “You can tell me what has happened once we are away from this horrible place.”

  Audrey Ashcroft put an arm around Elizabeth’s waist and guided her towards the door as well, whispering, “Let us do likewise, my dear.”

  Everyone filed past the rotund figure lying on the floor with an obviously broken nose which had begun to stain the carpet a bright red. Ignoring his Master in favour of showing his newfound respect for the man’s aunt and guests, Cuthbert bowed low to all who passed.

  Once outside, it did not take long to get everyone situated. While Elizabeth’s trunks were brought down and secured to Lord Landingham’s coach, she
was gently settled into the seat next to Georgiana in the Darcy coach, a wet cloth held against her cheek. Lady Ashcroft and Lord Landingham sat together in the opposite seat, and Elizabeth could not help sneaking peeks at the tall, distinguished man who had won even more of her admiration for hitting Lord Wilkens.

  When she finally caught his eyes, she whispered, “Thank you.”

  He nodded, returning her smile, and a bit embarrassed, turned to watch the goings on outside. Alfreda had already said her goodbyes and was now entering her aunt’s carriage which would take her to Hawthorne Hall. Mr. Cuthbert, newly reformed, leaned into the window of their vehicle, promising loudly to send all her clothes and personal items along as soon as they could be packed.

  Thus, as the carriage and two coaches pulled away from Gatesbridge Manor, each occupant hoping never to return, Landingham could not help but chuckle to himself as the now obsequious butler bowed over and over until they were completely out of sight.

  ~~~*~~~

  On the road to Milton

  They had not travelled very many miles when the silence in the carriage grew awkward, as first one, then another, stole a glance at the large bruise on Elizabeth’s face whenever she refolded the cloth she held against it. Georgiana was on tenterhooks, wishing to know the details of what happened at Gatesbridge Manor. She was well aware that Miss Bennet’s injuries were her fault, and she was filled with remorse. Elizabeth had suffered Wickham’s wrath, and obviously Wilkens’ as well, for intervening on her behalf. Georgiana then caught sight of a bloody bandage tied around Elizabeth’s middle finger, an injury she had been hiding by keeping her other hand clasped around it.

  “Miss Elizabeth, did you cut your finger?” she asked timidly. She was not surprised to be the recipient of Lady Ashcroft’s raised brow, which she pretended not to see.