by Jennifer Joy
Then, Darcy looked at Elizabeth caring for his father and sister. She sat on the bench next to them, keeping them calm with her gentle conversation.
Father turned from Elizabeth to Darcy and gave a wink. Darcy stifled his laughter. Only his father would think of romance at a time like this.
Now that the danger was over, Mr. Collins entered the tavern. Mr. Gardiner called him over to their group.
Bingley left them and walked over to Darcy. “I think we should let the women know all is well. They must be anxious.”
“Darcy, my boy,” interrupted a much weakened and slightly slurred voice from the table. “I say, William.” His father was growing more insistent.
Nodding to Bingley, Darcy saw the surgeon arrive as Bingley left.
Darcy relaxed his shoulders and leaned down next to his father. “Yes, Father?”
“There is something you can do for me. You can marry this girl right here. I may die this night and it would bring me comfort to know that you have married such a capable young lady.” He tried to raise his injured arm but had to settle for pointing his chin toward Elizabeth.
Darcy saw a look he could not interpret pass over Elizabeth. She would not meet his eyes, instead focusing all of her attention on Georgiana who fortunately had chosen to remain silent. The healthy glow Elizabeth normally possessed washed from her face as she lost all color.
Still looking at Elizabeth, desperate to read her reaction, Darcy said, “Father, now is not the time to speak of such things. Look, the surgeon is here.”
Darcy moved over to give the medic some room. Elizabeth rose too, but went to sit on a bench closer to the door. Georgiana wanted to stay where she was by Father’s head, her hand on his forehead.
The surgeon was a young man, about Darcy’s own age, fresh into port from His Majesty’s Navy. Gunshot wounds were things he saw on a daily basis. They were messy and he did not want to offend the gentility of the ladies by removing Mr. Darcy’s shirt in their presence. He encouraged them to wait at a distance.
Mr. Gardiner, currently unoccupied, joined Darcy. “Perhaps it would be a good time for me to escort Miss Georgiana and Lizzy to my home. Madeline is a good nurse and it will bring her comfort to help ease your sister’s mind. Does that suit you, Mr. Darcy?”
Darcy wanted badly to speak to Elizabeth, but his father was already giving the surgeon a difficult time and he could see that his assistance would be needed. Had his father’s untimely and utterly inappropriate comment put Elizabeth off? Could it be that she did not return his affections?
Elizabeth rose to leave the room, looping her arm through Georgiana’s. Even after she left the building, Darcy watched her figure retreating through a grimy glass window.
The surgeon lifted George Darcy up to examine the wound, bringing Darcy’s attention back to his father, who appeared to be in fine spirits despite his weakening condition.
“Richard. I should like to hear the news. What will happen to the men here and to Wickham? Has a decision been made?” Mr. Darcy asked, becoming more serious.
“My men are taking in the tavern owner, Mr. Grisley.”
Darcy thought what an appropriate name for the greasy, wiry man.
“Mr. Grisley has been running an illegal gambling house and brothel. They have been trying to detain him for some time. No doubt that would have been Miss Bennet’s future had we not arrived in time.”
Both Richard and Father looked at Darcy. He felt the hair on his arms stand up at the thought of Elizabeth enslaved in such an establishment. To think that Wickham was responsible made Darcy want to punch him in the nose again.
“What about Wickham?” asked Darcy, clenching his fists.
Before Richard could answer, Father spoke. “The man is a rascal, but his father was the best of friends and I could not live with myself should his offspring come to harm.” He gave a significant look to Darcy.
Darcy thought for a moment, then asked, “Is there some way, Richard, that Wickham could be sent away in the army? I fear Mr. Grisly will have him killed over his debts should he stay here.”
Richard concurred, “Of that I have no doubt. The man has no scruples. Perhaps a stay on the continent will keep Wickham out of harm’s way and too busy to get into too much mischief.”
Darcy wanted Wickham out of sight more than anything and agreed that it would be a good plan.
“How is his arm?” Darcy asked.
Richard laughed heartily. “You managed to singe only his coat, cousin. Well done if your intent was to miss him completely.”
Darcy breathed a sigh of relief. “It was never my intention to hurt him. Only to ensure that he not harm others.”
“Really, Darcy? What moved you, then, to bash him in the nose?” Richard chuckled and the irony was not lost on Mr. Darcy either.
In a grim tone, George Darcy said, “Wickham’s father would be ashamed. I do not want him harmed, Richard, but by no means do I want him anywhere near my family.”
Richard nodded. “I am sure I can pull some strings, Uncle. His Majesty’s Army welcomes volunteers to keep the French off our shores. Wickham is good with a sword and, given his other options, will welcome the opportunity to go to anywhere he may be sent.”
“Pardon my interruption, sirs, but I believe my exam is done.” Looking directly at Mr. Darcy, the surgeon continued, “You are a very lucky man. Barring infection, you should heal nicely and be back to normal in a fortnight. I only need to clean the wound and stitch it closed. A good shot of that whiskey will do for our patient.”
Darcy poured a second glass from the bottle, but the surgeon grabbed it before it could be handed to his father. “This might sting, Mr. Darcy.” He tossed the liquid on a clean cloth and pressed it to Mr. Darcy’s shoulder before anyone could protest.
The sound that came from his father was something between a growl and a shriek. Darcy immediately poured another glass of whiskey, this time handing it to his father for him to drink. Beads of sweat broke out all over Mr. Darcy’s face and he went white with pain.
“For the love of all that is holy, what was that for?” Mr. Darcy choked out the words and looked defiantly at the surgeon.
“It will keep off infection. I apologize for the discomfort…”
“Discomfort, my eye! That burned like a branding iron.” Mr. Darcy grumbled and attempted to put his shirt back on, thus bringing an end to his medical attentions.
Darcy rolled his eyes. He knew this would happen.
Placing a firm hand on his father’s good shoulder, he said, “Let the surgeon do his job, Father. You are in no condition to fight or leave before the wound is clean and stitched.”
George Darcy looked at the faces surrounding him. Darcy gave him his firmest look. Richard tried his best to look serious. The surgeon, having dealt with all sorts of men in much worse conditions and with far worse humors, simply waited with a threaded needle in his hand.
Giving a huff, George Darcy said, “After all the trouble you have put me through, Darcy, I expect a wedding in a fortnight and a grandchild in a year.”
Darcy felt his face burn red. He clenched his teeth to keep from responding to the unjust accusation that he was the source of the day’s trouble.
A set of stitches later, Darcy handed his father up to sit on the table top and helped him dress for the trip home.
The criminals had long since left for the prison to await their trial. Wickham, too, had been escorted back to the barracks to await the consequences of his greedy actions.
Approaching Darcy, Father, and Richard as they followed the surgeon out of the tavern was a prostrating figure dressed in black. Darcy had forgotten Mr. Collins was there.
“Good sirs, it brings me no end of comfort to have been of assistance to such a noble family. My patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, will be most pleased to hear that you are in good health despite the events of this afternoon.” He bowed, talking mostly to the creaky floor planks.
“Richard, could you get a carriag
e for Father? I do not think it wise for him to ride home,” Darcy suggested before addressing Mr. Collins.
Richard took Mr. Darcy outside where Mr. Gardiner’s footman already had a coach waiting.
Now alone with the clergyman, Darcy said, “Mr. Collins, I do extend my thanks to you for your assistance in retrieving my sister and Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Without your help we might have delayed quite some time. However, there is a point which I need your help in clarifying regarding Miss Elizabeth. You implied to Mr. Bingley that at this moment you are engaged to the young lady. Is that in fact true?”
“Such an intimate subject…” Mr. Collins mumbled and shifted his weight in discomfort. “You said ‘at this moment’ and while I cannot confirm this to be the case, I can in confidence tell you in confidence that it is very soon to be the case.” Mr. Collins appeared confused by his own words.
Darcy interrupted Mr. Collins’s attempt to expound on the subject with another baffling explanation. “So, I am to understand that at this present time you are, in fact, not engaged to marry Miss Elizabeth Bennet?”
“Well, yes, I do suppose that is correct if one merely looks at the facts. She will soon come to realize the better position in society and the security I can offer her on your aunt’s estate.”
Darcy glared at Mr. Collins. He doubted there were many young ladies who would be willing to accept that man’s offer of marriage. Though Mr. Collins did not say it, Darcy was now certain Elizabeth had refused him. To think the clergyman came so close to frustrating Darcy’s plans made him want to behave most disagreeably with him. But, he thanked him once again, ensured Mr. Collins knew his way back to his lodgings, mounted his horse, and directed himself to Mr. Gardiner’s house. He needed to see Elizabeth without delay. There was something very important he must discuss with her.
Chapter 24
When Lizzy arrived home with Uncle and Georgiana, Aunt Gardiner was waiting for them at the door, her arms spread out in a welcoming hug. Elizabeth fell into her arms and let her body relax. She was safe now with the people she loved.
Aunt Gardiner petted her hair. Addressing Elizabeth and Georgiana, she said, “The Bingleys have been waiting for you with Jane. They are in the sitting room. Would you like to run up to Lizzy’s room to freshen up?” She reached for Georgiana’s hand as she walked toward the stairs and gave it a squeeze.
“I am surprised Caroline chose to come here instead of to my house,” said Georgiana.
Elizabeth could see the disappointment on her face. She could not blame Georgiana. Caroline Bingley was the last person she would choose to see right now.
Aunt Gardiner answered in a low voice. “I believe it was Mr. Bingley’s choice. Now, run along. The sooner you come back down, the better.”
Elizabeth went upstairs with Georgiana. She would have to be nice to Miss Bingley and the idea only worsened her throbbing headache. She looked longingly at her bed. The fluffy mattress and colorful blankets looked warm and inviting.
Maids brought in two wash basins and Elizabeth had to admit that the cool water felt delicious on her skin. She wished she could scrub the events of the day off in a bath full of it.
Echoing her thoughts, Georgiana sighed, “I wish I could have a bath.”
“Me too. But, first things first. No mention must be made of your previous attachment to Wickham. We must think of your reputation. It was a kidnapping in an attempt to extort money from your father.”
Elizabeth could only imagine how difficult this would be for Georgiana, but she would be the object of much gossip if word spread through London and Elizabeth was determined to protect her friend as much as she possibly could.
Finally, Georgiana met Elizabeth’s eyes and straightened her shoulders. “I am ready.”
Elizabeth smiled and nodded, more confident that Georgiana would survive the drama they would soon face downstairs.
Facing the sitting room door, Elizabeth took a deep breath and entered. She felt as if she were entering a battle, though why she should feel so affected by Miss Bingley’s presence was strange. She did not like Miss Bingley, but she was not intimidated by her in the least.
A flurry of feathers and fluffy skirts rushed past her and enveloped Georgiana. Elizabeth could smell the sweet perfume of Miss Bingley as she burst by. What a contrast to the odor of sour ale and unwashed bodies from the tavern. Overpowered by the sweet scent, Elizabeth found her way across the room to Jane. Jane smelled like lavender and Elizabeth soaked it in as she rested her head on Jane’s shoulder. Jane squeezed her like she would never let her go.
“I am so happy that you are safe,” Jane whispered in Elizabeth’s ear.
Elizabeth, surrendering to the comfort Jane offered, hugged back just as firmly. When Jane finally loosened her hold, Elizabeth followed her to the chaise she shared with a beaming Mr. Bingley.
“You are back and all is well again,” he said, looking between Elizabeth and Georgiana, who was only recently escaping the fawning and fretting of Miss Bingley.
“What a horrifying experience! You must have been terrified, poor thing. Now, you must tell me all about it. Do not leave out any detail,” insisted Miss Bingley.
Georgiana looked at Elizabeth, desperation on her face. Of course Georgiana did not wish to speak about her ordeal right now. It was the last thing Elizabeth wanted to do, but the pause was getting uncomfortably long and someone needed to say something.
“Wickham amassed large debts which he hoped he could extort from Mr. Darcy by kidnapping Miss Georgiana. I was calling on Georgiana when it happened and I believe your brother has informed you of the rest,” narrated Elizabeth.
Miss Bingley looked disappointed at the summary of events and Elizabeth knew she would not give up so easily.
“Mr. Bingley, I never understood how you arrived at the tavern so quickly,” Elizabeth asked, partly out of curiosity, partly to quiet Miss Bingley for a few minutes.
Mr. Bingley began his account of the afternoon, soon standing and walking about the room and gesturing in his excitement. Evidently, the maid had seen the girls forced into the coach and immediately ran outside where she ran into Mr. Collins. The gentleman had some flowery explanation for his presence, but Elizabeth knew that he had followed her. Had she not felt his presence as she walked to Darcy House? It was a disturbing revelation, but Elizabeth was grateful that the maid insisted that Mr. Collins follow their coach to the tavern with a stable boy who then alerted everyone as to their whereabouts.
Miss Bingley feigned a faint when Mr. Bingley got to the part where Mr. Darcy was shot.
Elizabeth hoped they would hear news of the gentleman soon. Georgiana’s eyes teared up.
“I am sure he is doing well under the attention of the surgeon. He seemed very capable,” Elizabeth said.
Aunt Gardiner served tea and cakes and everyone settled in to wait.
A knock at the door drew everyone’s attention. Elizabeth was on pins and needles with worry for Mr. Darcy and anticipation to see William. The image of him charging through the door and his swift reaction to protect his family warmed her weary body and she smiled softly.
To say Elizabeth was disappointed when Mr. Collins stepped into the room would be a grave understatement. Erasing the smile from her face, she attempted a cool expression instead. Smiling would only encourage him and, while Elizabeth was grateful for the part he played in her and Georgiana’s rescue, she knew now more than ever that she could never marry him. Her heart belonged to Fitzwilliam Darcy. But did he return her affections? Was Miss Bingley’s claim that he was secretly engaged to Lady Henrietta true? A man with his station in society would never put himself in a position to be entrapped by a female.
Elizabeth drew her eyebrows together. Mr. Darcy’s comment was most untimely. Elizabeth loved William, but she would not accept his hand if it was offered out of obligation. She wanted his love, not his pity.
Mr. Collins relished in the attention he was given. Everyone in the room begged to hear about Mr. Darcy
and his injury, but nothing could entice Mr. Collins to put an end to their suffering. Instead, he chose to give a long and rather elaborate re-telling of the events, detailing his importance in the rescue through his humble eyes.
Elizabeth did her best to look attentive out of politeness but refrained from asking any questions. Her uncle and aunt did their best to keep the conversation on track after a few tangents leading to Her Ladyship, the righteous lady who could never be praised enough for her superiority in all things, Lady Catherine de Bourgh.
Miss Bingley rolled her eyes impatiently and did her best to look indifferent, a look she had studied in depth and had perfected, Elizabeth thought. Elizabeth determined to hide her own frustration with Mr. Collins. She would not be grouped with Miss Bingley. Still, she could not keep her eyes from looking at the clock every so often. They had been home for a while now and it was nearing five o’clock.
Miss Bingley was not about to leave when she thought she could comfort William when he came to fetch Georgiana and further snub Elizabeth. Mr. Bingley had suggested they depart, but Miss Bingley was appalled that he suggest such a thing when her dearest friend was in need of her company. Georgiana glared at her. Elizabeth saw Georgiana’s strong reaction and it did much to bring back her own sense of humor.
The group gave up on any news proceeding from Mr. Collins and a silence grew over them as his words turned into a sermon on the perilous vices of greed and covetousness.
At the crux of his discourse, another knock sounded at the door. Elizabeth sat forward.
The sitting room door opened and in walked a tousled Fitzwilliam Darcy. Georgiana jumped from her seat and ran into his arms, nearly knocking him over. Elizabeth watched the tenderness with which he treated his little sister. There were no scoldings, not that Elizabeth expected them in such a public setting, but there was no hint of rebuke on his face either. William looked up and their eyes met. Elizabeth smiled back cautiously. Is he free to love me?
Miss Bingley strode over to Darcy and placed her hand on his arm. That was as far as she got. Darcy gave her a stare so cold, she immediately withdrew her hand and placed it on Georgiana’s shoulder as if that were her intention from the start.
