by Wells, Linda
“What, oh … Will!” She sighed as he licked and savoured the wetness that nearly dripped from her mound. She parted her legs for him and he found her nub, sucking it and drinking in her flavour while she held his shoulders, writhing and moaning above him. When she cried out and trembled, he tugged her hands, pulling her to the floor to kneel with him. Darcy stared at her, eyes dark, nostrils flaring, breath ragged. “Will?” She whispered and closed her eyes when one hand wrapped around her waist and the other was buried in her hair. Elizabeth’s arms embraced his neck and they were instantly lost in the fervour of their kiss.
Slipping one hand down to open his breeches, she drew out his erection, caressing it as she suckled his tongue. Darcy groaned in her mouth and let go of all control, letting her pleasure him with her loving touch. His body shivered and he clutched her while their kisses continued with the slow passion he adored. “My love.” He breathed as she kissed along his jaw to find his throat, and savoured the place that drove him mad. “Oh Lizzy.” He breathed and tilted his head back. “Yes, love, yes.” His hands traced over her back as she continued to stroke his burning flesh. Darcy’s eyes opened and he looked deeply into hers, then licked her warm, glistening lips. Resting their foreheads together, they watched her steady hand, and when her thumb circled the tip, spreading his essence, he shuddered, and covering her hand with his own, together they brought him to heaven.
Their hands remained clasped over him as he shuddered, until at last he swallowed and took a long, unsteady breath. She smiled and laughed softly, caressing back the hair that fell across his sleepy eyes, then finding the handkerchief he kept in his coat, wiped their hands. Instantly she was in his arms. “My lovely Lizzy.” He sighed, and held her to his chest. “My own.”
Eventually they rose to their feet and held each other. “Will?”
“Mmmmmmmmmmmmm.”
She laughed and looked up to his warm gaze. “Will you ravish me tonight?”
“Be prepared to be quite occupied.” They kissed and remained embraced, slowly rocking together.
Outside of the study window, hidden by a manicured bush, Wickham lifted his pistol and drew back the hammer to full-cock. “Well Darcy, I hope that you enjoyed your sweet wife one last time. What a waste she will be.” Taking aim he waited for them to separate, and watched impatiently as they kissed again. “That’s it, kiss her goodbye. She’s going to sleep now.” Darcy smiled and caressed a curl behind Elizabeth’s ear, and Wickham saw them draw apart. “There you go … One last smile for him to remember, Mrs. Darcy.” His finger twitched against the trigger.
A knock on the study door made the couple jump apart. Wickham swore at their sudden movement. Darcy laughed. “You would think we were not married!”
“We are undressed.” Elizabeth blushed and fixed her gown while he adjusted his breeches and asked who was there.
“It is Mrs. Robbins, sir; Miss Rosalie is ready for her walk.”
“Oh!” Elizabeth cried. “I forgot that we were walking!”
Darcy chuckled. “I am pleased to have accomplished that.” Elizabeth sighed as he moved to open the door. He held out his arms and took the squealing baby, then walked to Elizabeth with her. “Hello my sweet girl.” He kissed her.
“Damn it!” Wickham dropped the gun to his side as the family drew together.
“Are you ready my Rosa?” Elizabeth laughed and kissed her. Looking up she saw Darcy’s happy face. “You look ready to burst.”
“My heart is full.” He kissed Rosalie, then leaned to bestow a lingering kiss to Elizabeth and was firmly smacked in the cheek by a waving hand. “Ow!” He rubbed it and laughed. “She does not like to share!”
“Well she will have to grow used to that.” Elizabeth kissed her and said seriously. “Papa is mine, too.”
Darcy wrapped his arm around her shoulder and they strolled from the room. “I will meet you in the garden; I have another surprise for you. For both of my ladies.”
“Oooohh, what is it?”
“You will see.” He paused in the doorway. “Happy anniversary, love. The third of so many to come.”
“Happy anniversary, Husband.” They kissed once more and separated.
Wickham stared at the empty room, and looked down at the gun hanging in his grip. “What is it Wickham, did you lose your nerve when a baby came in? It’s HIS baby!” He spat. Hearing the sound of a wagon stopping in front of the house, he ducked behind the bush. The water casks were right on time. When the man rolling the barrel passed, Wickham moved away from the house and headed down the street to the corner, ran around the last townhouse and to the alleyway for the mews. He had heard Darcy tell her to go to the garden, and he was determined to get there first. Skidding to a stop, he came to the stables for Darcy House. All of the stable workers were gathered around a baby carriage, and were laughing at the tiny Shetland pony that Darcy had purchased to pull it. With them all occupied, he easily slipped into the empty, well-tended garden. He moved behind the necessary house, and watched the home. The garden door opened and out stepped Elizabeth with the baby cuddled in her arms.
Wickham licked his lips, studying her. “What would hurt him more, losing his wife or his baby? Maybe both with one shot?”
Elizabeth moved closer, pausing to show Rosalie a peach. He heard the baby squeal and Elizabeth’s laughter. “That’s it Mrs. Darcy, come to papa.” He glanced around to see that the staff was still occupied. “I want him to see this.” An idea hit him. “No, I want him to sweat it out! That’s it!” Looking over his shoulder, he knew it was then or never.
Bending to kiss Rosalie, Elizabeth whispered to her, “What is Papa doing, do you think? We will have a picnic after your walk. You do not mind sharing him with me today, do you?” Hearing rapid footsteps across the gravelled path, she looked up with a smile, expecting to see her husband, and instead saw Wickham, his eyes focussed, his teeth bared, and flying towards her. “NOOOOO!” She screamed as he snatched Rosalie from her grasp. “Let her go!” Elizabeth reached, trying to take her bawling baby back. She kicked at him and clawed at his arm as he pulled the gun from his breeches.
“Do you want to die, too, Mrs. Darcy?” He snarled.
“No, NO!! Let her go! Please! Please do not hurt her! You let her go!!” Elizabeth grabbed at her daughter and disregarded the pistol. “Take me … Please do not hurt my baby!”
Darcy was just coming to the garden door, the bracelet he was giving Elizabeth in his hand, when he heard her scream. “Elizabeth!” He ran outside to be greeted with the scene of Elizabeth struggling with an unknown man; and Rosalie under his arm. Without hesitation, he ran hard across the garden and tackled the man from behind. The force and surprise of his attack made Wickham loosen his grip on Rosalie, enough for Elizabeth to pull her free and safely into her arms. “GO Elizabeth! Get Away! Take Rosa away!” Darcy bellowed and held the man’s waist as his other hand closed around his throat. Gripping tight, Darcy saw the scar. “WICKHAM!!” He felt Wickham choke and grab at his fingers, then felt the cold barrel of the pistol against his other hand as Wickham struggled to lift it and fire.
“Fitzwilliam!” Elizabeth screamed, unable to move, and clutched Rosalie to her breast.
“You BASTARD!” Darcy shouted and struggled, grabbing at the gun. Suddenly the weapon’s hammer was knocked back, fully-cocked, and fired. The deafening blast threw both men violently backwards, Elizabeth cried out, and Darcy fell, his head striking a stone planter. Wickham lay stunned in his arms.
Staff poured in from every direction. Men arrived from the stables, footmen and Foster from the house. Darcy felt Wickham being pulled away from him and blinked his eyes, struggling to stay conscious, “Elizabeth?” He croaked and tried to escape from the swirling light and buzzing noise in his ears. Slowly he turned his eyes towards the distant sound of Rosalie’s hysterical cries. “Lizzy?” He swallowed and finally focussed on the bundle of yellow that was his wife’s gown, and then spotted the bright red stain that was slowly spreading across
her chest. He reached his fingers to touch her limp outstretched hand as he finally succumbed to the blow. “My love.”
Chapter 18
“Lord Matlock?” The harried servant asked the doorman at the entry to the House of Lords.
“Matlock?” He turned slowly and scanned the room, groups of men were in small gatherings, arguing, laughing, glad-handing. “No, I don’t think he’s here.”
“Well where is he?”
Raising his brow the doorman stared. “Not Here.”
“Fat lot of good you are! You didn’t even look!” He started to push past and was given a shove. “I need to locate him!”
“Jones, what is all this?” Lord Moreland glared at the two men.
Jones snapped to attention. “Sir, this … servant was looking for Lord Matlock. I told him he was not present.”
“Matlock?” Lord Moreland turned. “He is right in that corner there. Use your eyes, man.”
The footman did not wait for more; he was through the door and flying straight for his master. “Lord Matlock, sir!”
Lord Matlock turned from where he was laughing with his friends and his smile instantly changed to a deep frown. “What are you doing here, Robbie?”
“Sir!” He began and lowered his voice. “Sir, you are needed at Darcy House immediately.”
“Darcy?” He looked to the men listening in and nodded, raising his voice. “Gentlemen, if you will excuse me.” Rapidly they left the room and Lord Moreland caught his arm. “Not now, I need to be off. I will contact you later.”
“Right.” Lord Moreland saw that something clearly was amiss, and heard the voice of Lord Creary behind him.
“Darcy in trouble?” He sniffed. “What a shame.”
“He is a finer man than you ever were, Creary.” Lord Moreland glared. “You do not know what is wrong, so keep your mouth shut, or do you enjoy gossiping like a woman?”
“Watch your mouth Moreland!”
“Or what, you will not ask me to your ball?” Lord Moreland growled and walked away, casting a concerned look to the doors.
“WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN?” Lord Matlock demanded as the carriage crawled through the heavy traffic.
“It has been hours, sir. The butler at Darcy House sent word to Matlock, but you and Lady Matlock were out. I was sent to find you, nobody knows where her ladyship is, and she has Miss Darcy and Miss Bennet with her. I think that someone was sent to Cheapside from Darcy House for Mrs. Darcy’s relatives, but it takes hours to get there and back. I … I am sure that the surgeon has been called.”
“Yes.” Lord Matlock closed his eyes and thought. “Richard, was anyone sent for Colonel Fitzwilliam?”
“Sir, I do not know, I was off with the carriage the moment it was brought around.” He looked at him anxiously. “I … I was in the war, sir. I pray that Mrs. Darcy …”
“Well if she was alive when you got the word …” His voice trailed off and he clutched his walking stick. “Darcy was alive?”
“He was unconscious, sir.”
“The baby?”
“I do not know.”
“Wickham?”
“He was injured, but the staff had him trussed up and ready for the magistrate when the man from Darcy House left. I gather that the staff was taking turns at him for hurting the Darcys. If he is still alive, it is only because they want to see him swing.”
“They are not alone.”
“HAVE YOU SEEN LIZZY?” Darcy asked with a smile. “Beautiful Lizzy. Lizzy, Longbourn, Gracechurch Street, London.” He sighed and looked up. “Have you seen Lizzy?”
“Yes, sir.” Adams murmured and seeing his master’s face grow white, helped him to turn over to his side so that he could vomit again into the chamber pot. Darcy shook, and his voice was weak. “Have you seen Lizzy?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Beautiful Lizzy.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I cannot see.” Darcy moaned. “Adams?” He reached out blindly and then held his head and closed his eyes. “Oh …” He turned and vomited again. “Ohhh.” Laying back in the bed he opened his eyes to pant and touched his aching head. He felt the bloody bandage and tried to remove it. “What … Ohhhhh Stop the noise! Why can I not see?” He cried out and started to panic.
“Sir?” Adams grabbed his hands and held him down, a footman joined him. “Sir you must lay quiet now, the doctor will be along right away.”
“Oh.” Darcy blinked, trying to clear the lights from his eyes. “Have you seen Lizzy? Beautiful Lizzy. Lizzy, Longbourn, Gracechurch Street, London.”
“Yes, sir.”
Adams and the footman exchanged glances and stayed by their master’s side.
“SHOT?” Mr. Gardiner’s mouth dropped open as he read the note. “What happened?” He stared without comprehension at the footman twisting his hat in his study.
“Sir, as near as we can tell Mr. Wickham came upon Mrs. Darcy in the back garden and tried to snatch the baby away. Mr. Darcy went after him and in the struggle the gun fired.”
“And Lizzy was shot.” Mr. Gardiner tried to calm the queasiness in his stomach and reached out to grip the back of his chair. “She was alive …”
“I … I believe when I left, she was, but the blood, sir …” He looked to his hands. “Mr. Darcy will die if he loses her.”
“And Darcy …”
“Sir, I … I was in the war with Colonel Fitzwilliam. I saw my share of wounds. Mr. Darcy had a good knock on the head, but …Mrs. Darcy …”
“The baby was uninjured?”
“I heard from Mrs. Mercer that she was safe in her mama’s arms.” The young man gulped. “Sorry, sir. We have the best master and mistress, sir. We failed them once before.”
“I understand.” Mr. Gardiner drew a deep breath and nodded. “I will be on my way as soon as I am able. I must call for the coach.”
“Yes, sir. If you don’t mind, I’d like to get back, see if I can be of use to them, sir.”
“Yes, of course.” Mr. Gardiner pulled himself together, asked for the carriage to be prepared, then stopped to say a prayer before leaving his study to go upstairs to the nursery. “Marianne.”
The tone of his voice made her instantly come to his side. He glanced at the children then led her to their rooms and gave her the news. “Do you wish to come with me?”
Mrs. Gardiner took her hand from her mouth and nodded. “Of course. I will not be a moment.” She went to give orders for the staff and was downstairs and joining him at the door as fast as she could. Grimly he took her hand and they climbed into the coach. “Fitzwilliam is alive?”
“He was.” Mr. Gardiner said numbly.
“And Lizzy?”
Saying nothing, he shook his head and drew her into his embrace, and remained that way for the long drive through London’s congested streets.
“NOW THEN MARY, I want to hear this new song you have learned.” Lady Matlock smiled. “Georgiana has been singing your praises and I want to hear what an accomplished performer you have become!”
“Georgiana is far too willing to have me display my talents.” Mary blushed. “I think it is so she can avoid doing so herself!”
“Mary!” Georgiana cried. “You are the one who is coming out!”
“Not yet, Lizzy and Fitzwilliam promised that it can wait until next year.” She stared out of the carriage window. “I am in no hurry to marry. I cannot wait to go to Pemberley and be with Lizzy.”
“I cannot wait either.” Georgiana said wistfully. “You will love it there, I promise. And watching Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam play is very entertaining!”
“Georgiana!”
“Oh Aunt, they just love each other so much.” She sighed. “Fitzwilliam has such a lovely day planned for them today. Right now they should be at Kensington Gardens.”
“She spied him there once, I believe?” Lady Matlock smiled. “Such a sweet love story.”
“He showed me the bracelet he found for her.” Georgiana said with a giggle. �
��All diamonds with three rubies, one for each year that they have known each other. He said that each year he will replace a stone with another ruby until it is all red.”
“Where on earth does he form these impossible ideas?” Lady Matlock laughed. “Rubies.”
“Red is the colour of love.” Mary smiled.
“I CANNOT BEAR TO LOOK at that gown any longer.” Millie whispered and pointed to the gown soaked with Elizabeth’s blood sitting in the corner of the dressing room. “Can we not burn it?”
“The magistrate said to keep it for now.” Mrs. Mercer glanced at the yellow, now red silk, then went to wring the blood from the cloth she had been using to press on Elizabeth’s wounds. “Come, we are needed back inside.” They heard Rosalie crying inconsolably. “She wants her mama and papa.”
“I pray that she will have them.”
“CLARKE.” Lord Matlock said in a low voice when he arrived upstairs and saw the physician exit Darcy’s chamber. “What is the news?”
“I am treating Mr. Darcy; the surgeon is in with Mrs. Darcy.”
“They both live, then?” He asked urgently.
“For now, yes.” He glanced at the door to Darcy’s chambers and motioned him to the door of the sitting room that served the master and mistress. They entered and Lord Matlock began pacing the room. “Tell me!”
“Darcy received a very sharp blow to the back of his head when he fell. He had his arms around the intruder, Wickham, the pistol he was holding discharged, and at that range, the force was … well you can imagine. They were tossed backwards. The concussion of the blast was deafening. Wickham suffered burns to his hand and arm, or so it seems.”
“What do you mean?”
“There is not much left of the man.” Clarke said grimly. “From what I could see of the marks on his neck, if the gun had not discharged when it did, Darcy would have strangled him with the grip from his one hand. He is an exceptionally strong man.” Both of them glanced towards the door to his chambers. “After he fell, Darcy’s men apparently took over for their master, and displayed their loyalty for him and Mrs. Darcy rather effectively upon Wickham. I doubt that he will be able to stand up for the noose he is destined to sport soon. I will be surprised if he lives through the night.”
