Mr. Darcy's Love

by Zoë Burton

  Darcy’s father passed within a year of his leaving University. Wickham’s followed a mere six months later. It was while he was at Pemberley for his father’s funeral that Wickham finally made application to Darcy for the legacy he knew his godfather had left him. His disappointment and anger were great when he discovered that other than one thousand pounds, the only other thing left him in the will was the gift of a living, the one at Kympton, near to Pemberley, and that only if he took Holy Orders. He refused the living, and charmed Darcy into giving him three thousand pounds in exchange. Telling his boyhood friend he was planning to study law, Wickham instead ran through the money in two years. When he heard the living was open, he wrote to Darcy asking for it, but Darcy refused. To avenge himself and get the money that he felt should be his, Wickham tried to convince Darcy’s younger sister, Georgiana, to elope with him.

  Fate was against him there, too, for while the fifteen-year-old girl was convinced of his undying love for her and that her brother would be thrilled to be surprised, when Darcy showed up unexpectedly, she told him everything. Wickham received a letter from him two days prior to their departure date, denying him Georgiana’s hand unless he met certain conditions and threatening dire consequences should he attempt to deceive them. Wickham’s response was to run.

  Of course, he did not share all of these details with Miss Elizabeth. He left out anything that might make her think less of him, and twisted other facts around to make Darcy appear the cad. From all appearances, she believed him, and he had hopes of ruining Darcy’s happiness further by taking his betrothed’s affections away from him. Of course, being the cold man Darcy was, he may not mind a broken engagement. Only time would tell, and Wickham had plenty of that. Having finished his story, he looked expectantly at his prey. He was left to wonder at his success when she responded.

  “That was quite a tale Mr. Wickham. Thank you for sharing it with me.” So saying, Elizabeth rose from her seat, curtseyed, and walked to the fireplace to join her father and some of the neighboring gentlemen.

  Elizabeth was neither taken in nor amused by his story. He couldn’t know, of course, that she was already wary of him when he began. It was the increasingly bizarre details of his story, that did not match up in any way with what she knew of her beloved’s character that put an end to her desire to maintain the acquaintance. She knew in her heart that he was lying, though she could not imagine why. It was apparent that he had some sort of grudge against Fitzwilliam. She determined to stay as close to her parents as possible for the remainder of the evening.

  Chapter 5

  At home that night, before the family retired, Elizabeth knocked on the door to her father’s bookroom and asked to speak with him. When he granted permission, she closed the door behind her and took a seat in her favorite chair, near his desk.

  “What is it you wish to speak to me about, my child? I noticed you remained close to me most of the evening.”

  “I did, Papa. I am not certain where to begin, so I shall just say it and if I am unclear, you will need to ask for clarification.” She looked questioningly at him, and upon seeing his nod, she told him about meeting Mr. Wickham in Meryton and her discomfort in his presence and then the unbelievable characterization he gave of Mr. Darcy. She ended with, “I cannot explain why, but I am uneasy in his company. Even before the dinner party, I did not wish to maintain a connection to him.”

  Mr. Bennet, having listened intently and asked questions where necessary as she spoke, thought for a moment about all he heard. “If you are uncomfortable in his presence, then you should avoid him as much as possible. He is an officer and as much as the populace admires soldiers, their reputations are not spotless, on the whole. Do not be alone with him. In fact, I believe that you should probably take a groom or footman with you now that you have resumed your rambles in the mornings, for protection.”

  “As much as I dislike the idea, I will agree. But what about my sisters? Lydia in particular seems enamored of him. I worry for her.”

  Nodding, he replied, “I shall take care of the problem with them. I will make it clear that no officer is welcome in this home, and that Lydia and Kitty, especially, are not to venture into Meryton without you, Mary, or Jane in attendance.”

  “Thank you, Papa.”

  Mr. Bennet smiled at his favorite child. “You are welcome, my dear. Is there anything else your old Papa can fix for you tonight?”

  Elizabeth laughed, “No, sir. That is all.”

  “Then off to bed with you.”

  Standing up and kissing his head, she responded, “Good night,” and left the bookroom to head up the stairs.

  ~~~***~~~

  The next morning, the Bennet ladies received a visit from those of the Bingley party. Caroline Bingley would have rather avoided the provincial Bennet clan, but her brother was convinced he was in love with Jane and insisted that his sisters get to know her better. At the prodding of their eldest sister, Louisa Hurst, Caroline finally agreed. With the upcoming nuptials between Mr. Darcy and Miss Elizabeth, the sisters could not truly repine his choice, and would not, if it were not for the fact that Caroline wanted Darcy for herself.

  For weeks, Miss Bingley had tried to open Mr. Darcy’s eyes to the inferiority of the Bennets in general, and Miss Elizabeth in particular. She had pointed out every flaw, from the lady’s sharp, shrewish eyes, to the mother’s intemperate and uncontrolled behavior. But Darcy had been steadfast in his rebuttals, to the point of confronting Miss Bingley with her desires to have him for herself and making it clear that she would never have been his choice.

  “Mr. Darcy,” she pleaded, “surely you see the truth in my words! Miss Elizabeth has nothing to recommend her to a man such as yourself. Why, I am certain all your friends will reject her and then where will you be?”

  “Reject my wife? And lose their connection to me? I hardly think so. A connection to me is an important one. Few would risk losing it. And, to be honest, anyone who would dare raise my ire by rejecting Elizabeth is not someone I wish to associate with in the first place.” He paused, looking out the window as a thought entered his mind. Turning back to Miss Bingley with a gleam in his eye, he added, “What about you? Are you one of those who choose to reject my wife?”

  Caroline gasped. As much as she hated Miss Elizabeth for taking the place she coveted, she dared not reject a connection to such an important family. She would be ruined socially were she to do something so foolish. “Oh, no, Mr. Darcy, I did not mean to imply that I would do such a thing!”

  “That is excellent news! Let me be clear about one more thing, while we are having this conversation. You are not now, nor have you ever been, a candidate for the position of Mistress of Pemberley. While you are the sister of a gentleman, and that gentleman is my very good friend, you are not the daughter of a gentleman. That has always been the number one requirement for anyone desiring to be my wife. In addition, your behavior, while exactly that of every other woman of the ton is not endearing. Had I desired to marry someone who was conniving, gossiped about others, and put on airs, I would have married years ago. I chose Miss Elizabeth because she is everything you and all the other women of high society are not. She is sincere, she is kind, and she is intelligent and unafraid to show it. You never had a chance, Miss Bingley.” He rose from his seat, sketched a shallow bow to her, turned on his heel, and left the room.

  Caroline was speechless. She heard his words, but could not believe them to be true. Why would he say such things, she wondered. He cannot mean them!

  Now, with Mr. Darcy away, Caroline felt she had one last chance to break the couple apart. She had made the acquaintance of Mr. Wickham at last evening’s dinner. She recognized his Derbyshire accent and inquired of his connection, if any, with the Darcys. Before long, the conversation turned to Mr. Darcy’s betrothal to Miss Elizabeth, and the lieutenant had passed along to her an interesting piece of information that she was quite eager to share with her adversary. She wasted no time in doing so.
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  “Miss Elizabeth, have you heard from Mr. Darcy?”

  “I have not. With him only being gone a few days, we decided against such a scheme.”

  “I am afraid, then, that I have bad news,” Caroline put forth, a patently false look of sadness on her face.

  “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.”