Chance Encounters
Page 36
When he could no longer see through the moonless night, he entered the house. Mrs. Reynolds tried to encourage him to eat, but he refused, he doubted his Lizzy was eating, so neither would he. He went up to his rooms and removed the filthy clothes, but did no more, only walking aimlessly until finally settling in her dressing room, surrounded by her things, her scent. Clutching the robe she had worn the night before, he held it to his face and prayed.
AT DAWN, Darcy was awakened from a fitful sleep on the floor of the dressing room by Rogers. “Mr. Darcy, a message has arrived, to be delivered personally to you.”
Darcy jumped up, instantly awake. “Who is it? Did you hold him?”
“Yes sir, he was not permitted to leave. He is waiting in your study.”
Darcy flew down the stairs and into the room, his face a thundercloud of anger. The young man took one look at the Master of the estate and shrank back in fear.
“Sir, I was asked to bring you this.” His shaking hand held out the missive. Darcy grabbed it from him and ripped it open.
Darcy,
I was in the neighbourhood, and thought that I would wish you joy for your wedding. Mrs. Darcy is lovely. I am enjoying getting to know her quite intimately. But perhaps you would enjoy her company, as well? I will be happy to send her back to you for a suitable reward. Leave a bank note for thirty thousand pounds under the rock by the chestnut tree in Lambton. You know that rock, do you not, old friend? I will expect it there by noon.
George Wickham
“Wickham!” Darcy spat out and read the note again. Wickham was clearly intimating that he had violated Elizabeth. He attempted to block that vision from his mind and turned to the young man. “Who gave this to you? Where was he?”
“A . . . a man sir, I did not know him, he offered me a guinea to deliver the note to the Master of Pemberley at dawn, sir. We were outside the Lambton Inn.” He swallowed. “He was tall and dark like you, sir.”
It was Wickham for certain. “Did you see where he went?” The boy shook his head. He had told all that he knew.
Mr. Regar stepped up to Darcy. “What does he want, sir?”
“Money. What else would Wickham want? Money and revenge.” Darcy said, disgusted. It was not lost on him that Wickham demanded the same amount as Georgiana’s dowry. He walked over to his desk and pulled out his bankbook. He wrote out the draft, sealed it in a folded page, and handed it to Mr. Regar. “This is to be placed under the rock by the chestnut tree in Lambton by noon. Obviously I cannot be there, but I want men all over the town, watching for who retrieves it and where he goes. I will be waiting in the Lambton Inn.”
“Sir, you are not going to pay him off?” Mr. Regar had noted the amount written on the draft.
Darcy's eyes blazed. “I would sign over Pemberley to recover Elizabeth.” He looked at his concerned steward, and calmed slightly, “I have altered my name on the draft, it will not be cashed, but I doubt that Wickham in his greed would notice it. He can only cash such a large draft in London. I will send an express to my bank and alert them to watch for it. He will never get anything from me.” He sat down and quickly wrote the note. “What is important now is to find Elizabeth.” He sat back, thinking. “Wickham must be working alone on this. He is foolish to have us come into Lambton, where he would be recognized and easily trapped. I wonder if something in his plan has gone wrong.” He wondered if that something had to do with Elizabeth.
By noon, the Pemberley party had infiltrated Lambton. The constable and the magistrate were alerted, and Darcy anxiously took his post at the inn. Mr. Regar placed the letter under the rock as instructed and walked away. Soon a small boy was seen removing it, and he was followed through several winding alleys, and to a crumbling barn on the edge of town. Darcy was alerted when the chase was on and soon arrived at the building. They looked into the carriage standing near the door. He and several of his men entered and spotted the boy leaving a small room in the back corner. One man grabbed the boy and took him outside before he could make a sound. Darcy and the other men walked quietly to the closed door, listened, and then glancing at them, he burst inside. Wickham was just opening the envelope, and dropped it in surprise.
“Darcy!” He cried out.
“Wickham! Where is my wife?” Darcy growled, his eyes scanning the room.
“Not here, obviously.”
Darcy was across the room in a second. His hands closed over Wickham’s throat and shook him. “Where is she?”
“Killing me will not get you any closer to her!” He choked out.
Darcy removed his hands and turning away, tried to calm his anger. “Wickham, you are not getting my money. If you do not wish to hang for your crimes, tell me where my wife is!”
Foolishly, Wickham decided to bait him. “She is resting comfortably, I assure you, as she is quite worn out.” Seeing Darcy’s panicked expression he added, “It was a pleasure to know another of the Darcy women so intimately.” He grinned.
In one movement, Darcy swung, and hit him in the ribs. Everyone in the room heard the crack. “Now, do I need to hit you again or will you talk?” Wickham had bent over, crumpling against the wall.
“Give me safe passage out of Derbyshire and I will send word back as to her location.”
Darcy advanced and dragging Wickham up from his position on the floor threw him against the wall. Darcy’s eyes were black with fury; he grabbed Wickham’s head by his hair and slammed it back.
“Speak, you cur!” He demanded.
“All right, all right, she is in the woods.” He said, gasping for air.
“We have searched the woods. Where?”
“Do you remember the cliff on the lake path?” Darcy nodded, his eyes narrowing. “She lies at the bottom of it.” Wickham sneered.
“Is she alive?” He said very quietly, attempting to control his rage and growing terror.
“I think not.” Wickham said, staring defiantly into Darcy’s eyes, seeking to enjoy his pain. His eyes opened wide at the sight of Darcy’s fist landing squarely on his jaw, breaking it. It was followed by his boot, firmly kicked in his groin.
“That was from Elizabeth.” He turned and flew out of the barn, leaving the other men to deal with Wickham. He knew exactly the spot that Wickham described. Jumping on his horse he rode as a man possessed back to Pemberley, finally arriving back on the lake path. He reached the cliff and stood there for a moment, suddenly awash in the memory of when he fell over it as a boy. Wickham pushed him over, supposedly in jest, only later he realized that it was an attempt to inflict a grave injury. Darcy had fortunately landed in a large bush, and received only bruises and scratches. He prayed that Elizabeth had the same fate. Peering over the edge, he spotted her curled in a ball on the bank of the rushing stream.
“Lizzy!” There was no movement. His heart pounding, he searched for a pathway, and finding one, started down, frustrated by his slow progress.
Upon reaching her, he saw that her eyes were closed. Blood and tears were dried on her face and matted her hair. Trembling, he knelt down beside her and tenderly touched her cheek. It was warm. He let out the breath he had been holding, and said a prayer of thanks. He pulled out his knife, cutting the binding on her hands and feet, and then carefully removed the gag and handkerchief from her mouth.
“Lizzy, Lizzy, my love, it is William.” He gently cradled her head in his lap, stroking her cheek and hair as he kissed her parched lips. “Sweetheart, please wake up, please.” He felt her move slightly, and then joyfully, he saw her eyes slowly open.
“William.” She whispered; her throat dry. Tears began pouring down her face, and she reached up to touch him with a shaking hand.
He had a flask of brandy in his pocket and supporting her head, he gave her a sip. She coughed and sputtered, but the liquor had the wanted effect. She tried to sit up, but he stopped her.
“Are you in pain, my love? We must not move you if you have broken any bones.” He held her hand tightly.
“I am sore and t
ired, but I do not feel anything too painful. I think I landed in some brush and then rolled here.” She whispered. Then smiling slightly, she said, “I did not have much choice as you can see.”
Relieved with her attempt at humour, he gathered her up in his arms and held her in his lap, rocking her. “Oh darling, I have been searching everywhere for you. I found your bonnet and Lydia’s letter, and I knew that it was Wickham. I am so sorry!” He buried his face in her neck and Elizabeth felt his tears as his shoulders shook. She held him, releasing her own flood of tears. It was a horrific experience for her, but she knew all along that she was alive. He had suffered the pain of not knowing anything.
“Did I not say that I would never leave you alone?” She held his face and kissed him. He nodded, staring into her eyes. “I love you, William.”
“I love you, Lizzy. If you had died, I would have just laid down here beside you and stayed forever.” Lifting her, he rose to his feet, “It is time we returned home.”
Through her tears, she smiled at him. “Yes, I believe that we were to take a bath together, were we not?” He laughed softly, and rested his wet cheek to hers.
“A bath with you would be heavenly, my love.” He kissed her again, and hugged his precious wife to his chest.
He carried her up the hillside and carefully setting her on the horse, they were soon on their way to the house. She leaned heavily on against him, and he clutched her waist securely with his left arm, while holding the reins in his right hand. The men had received word by then from Lambton to start searching by a cliff on the lake path, and were just heading towards them when Darcy’s horse was spotted. Cheers were raised by all, and Elizabeth smiled at their joy. Darcy carried her straight up to their rooms, ordering a bath to be prepared, and asked to send for the doctor.
“I do not need the doctor, William, truly, I am fine.” She leaned against him with her arms wrapped tightly around his waist.
“I need you to see the doctor. Please darling, for my peace of mind, if nothing else.”
“For you, I will do anything.” She rested against his chest and sought the comfort of his heartbeat.
“Thank you, darling.” Darcy whispered, kissing her hair.
Rosie came in, announcing that the bath was ready, and that a meal was on its way. Darcy dismissed her, and unbuttoning Elizabeth’s dress himself, carried her in to the bath and slowly lowered her down. She winced when the water touched the raw skin on her wrists from the binding. Darcy winced seeing her beautiful body covered in bruises and scratches from the struggle with Wickham and the fall. He lovingly washed her, and carefully rinsed the dirt and blood from her hair. “Will you not join me?” She asked beseechingly.
He soon lowered himself into the warm water. They sat, back to front; arms entwined, and closed their eyes, feeling safe once again. A knock at the door awakened them from their silent communion. “Sir?” Rogers’ voice came. “The doctor has arrived. I have left you a robe outside of the door.”
“Thank you; send him up in fifteen minutes.”
“Yes sir.”
They rose and Darcy gently dried her, towelling her hair. He pulled it back with a ribbon, and helped her to dress in the nightgown and robe that Rosie had left. Darcy slipped on his robe, and after settling her in their bed, left to dress. He quickly reappeared in breeches and a shirt.
The doctor was announced. He had been apprised of the situation, and was not sure what he would find. He was surprised and relieved to see Mrs. Darcy, sitting up on the bed, obviously battered, but alert. “Mrs. Darcy, I am Doctor Howard. I understand that you have had a difficult experience.”
“Doctor, I am pleased to meet you, though I would rather it be under better circumstances.” Elizabeth smiled slightly at him.
“My wife assures me that she is well, but I thought that it would be best to confirm it with you, sir.” Darcy fixed his gaze on the doctor.
The doctor observed his obviously haggard appearance and determined to interview him next. “Well sir, if you will leave the room, I will begin my examination.” He started towards the bed with his bag.
“I will stay.” Darcy stated.
“Sir, I respectfully suggest. . .” Then seeing Darcy’s stubborn face, he sighed. “Very well, sir. This is not a day for arguments.” Darcy moved to the window and stared out at the lake. He did not actually want to see the doctor examining Elizabeth, but he did not wish to leave her either. He listened as he heard the rustle of her clothing, and heard the doctor’s quiet questions as he treated the wounds. All seemed well, but then the doctor asked, “Did he strike you, Mrs. Darcy?” Darcy stiffened. Glancing at him, she said, “No, not really, it was mostly grabbing and pushing.” She said softly, not meeting his gaze.
The doctor nodded, noting the bruise across her cheek, and looking to Darcy, he asked one other question, very softly. “Did he violate you?” Elizabeth saw Darcy clutch the window frame, and hang his head.
“No, he did not.” She could see him let out his breath.
The doctor noted it as well, and saw the truth in her eyes. He nodded. “Thank heaven for that.” He said softly, and then clearing his throat, he spoke louder. “It seems that your injuries, in the grand scheme of things, are fairly minor. The bruising will last a few weeks, but the scratches should heal quickly. I imagine that you are suffering a headache judging by the bruise and cut on your temple. I have powders which will relieve the pain.” She nodded. “The abrasions on your wrists will heal soon. I will leave a salve for you to put on if they pain you, but simply keeping leaving them bandaged should be sufficient. I would say that you are thankfully quite well, Mrs. Darcy, and have nothing to worry about.” He patted her shoulder. “I recommend a great deal of rest.” She nodded, blinking back her tears.
Darcy finally felt able to turn around and came to her side. “Are you sure, Doctor?” He said, anxiously taking her hand.
“Absolutely.” He looked at him. “Mr. Darcy, may I have a word with you?” They left the room. “First show me your hands.”
“They are fine, sir.”
“Nonsense. I examined Wickham. You broke his jaw and his ribs, and I believe punctured a lung, and I sincerely doubt that he will ever be able to father a child.” Darcy could not help but smile with satisfaction. Both men knew that Wickham’s fate likely lay at the end of a noose or on a ship to Australia. “Ahem. So show me your hands.” The doctor looked. Darcy’s right hand was swollen and bruised. “I recommend that you soak that in salt water.” Darcy started to protest. “If you do not agree to do so, I will tell Mrs. Darcy. Do you want her to know?” He regarded him with twitching lips.
Knowing Elizabeth’s reaction, he smiled slightly. “No. I will do as you order.”
“Fine.” Then seriously he said, “Mrs. Darcy said that she was not violated, sir. But I think that it would be foolish to think that she was not threatened in some way. I sincerely believe that she is putting on a brave face to spare your feelings. If you can encourage her to talk about it, no matter how painful it is for you to hear, it will help her.” He patted Darcy’s shoulder. “My prescription for rest applies to you as well, sir.” The two men exchanged glances. “Now, I hope that the next time I am called here, it is for a more joyful event.” Darcy looked up, surprised. “Well Son, get to work on it!” He laughed softly and left the room. Darcy smiled and wiped his eyes.
He started to return to the bedchamber, when he caught sight of Elizabeth through the open door. She was hugging herself, rocking back and forth, staring, with a look of abject terror on her face. He drew in his breath, and made a noise. Instantly he saw a look of serenity come over her features. The doctor was correct. She was hiding her feelings to protect him. “Oh, Lizzy.” He whispered.
Entering the room he sat on the bed and wrapped his arms around her. She sat stiffly in his embrace. He did not speak or let go. After an eternity, he felt her body relax, and she was wracked with sobs. He kept holding her until she was spent, only kissing her forehead while wa
iting for her to speak. Finally she did.
“I was so afraid.” Her voice broke. “I woke and did not know where I was. I was waiting for him to return, imagining what he would do to me, and when he did not, I kept waiting for an animal to find me. I tried to crawl but found I could only roll. I felt so helpless. I thought that I could hear you calling me. I could not move or scream. All I could do was call for you to find me in my mind.” She sobbed again, and held him tighter. “He touched me.” She whispered.
“Lizzy.” He kissed her all over her face. “I love you.” He kept kissing her. “I could hear you calling to me. I would not stop looking for you, ever.” He was trying hard to remove the image of Wickham touching her from his mind, and desperately trying to think of the right things to say.
“William, he touched me but he did not. . .”
“Thank God.” He kissed her again. “Lizzy, if you thought that I was jealous and possessive before, you have not seen the extent of my feelings. I make no more apologies.”
“I will have no complaints.”
He gave her a hug, “I did manage a bit of revenge for you.”
Sniffing, Elizabeth hid her face in his neck. “What did you do?”
He caressed her hair and spoke softly in her ear. “I broke his ribs when he insulted you, and I broke his jaw. He made a reference to . . . touching you, and I remembered your technique of silencing him.”
“You kneed him?” She asked, her voice muffled.
He gently kissed her cheek. “Well, I used my boot, actually. The doctor feels that he will never be a father.”
Elizabeth pulled away from her hiding place with a tiny smile on her face. “Really?”
He nodded; the corners of his mouth lifting. “The doctor did suggest, however, that I begin work on that particular title.” His smile grew slightly.
“That is an admirable idea.” She kissed him and added quietly, “Not today.”
Darcy kissed her nose and wiped her eyes, then settling her safely in his embrace under the covers, he closed his eyes, “No, not today, but soon.”