by A K Madison
Jane hid her face and wept, and she was still overcome when Darcy and Bingley came in for their tea. Mary drew them aside and related what had occurred, and Bingley made haste to comfort his wife.
When at length Jane had regained her composure, Darcy spoke. “For me, it is just as Mrs. Collins described it this morning. I have long known Collins to be the silliest man of my acquaintance. But I never realized until it was almost too late that he was vicious.”
“Had she known, I can assure you she would never have married him,” replied Jane. “She would have been the first to say that she would be better off as a spinster.”
“And according to Lizzy’s letters from Hunsford last spring, Charlotte was quite content,” added Mary. “She had interested Mr. Collins in gardening, and she seemed to enjoy her work among the people in the village. She could not have been so content had she known his true character”
Darcy held his peace. It was quite clear to him that Lady Catherine was answerable for a great deal of what had happened, and he had written to his uncle requesting assurances that she had been properly restrained. He was determined, even with today’s tragic events, that Elizabeth should be able to anticipate their wedding day with happiness. He was also concerned about the future. He and Elizabeth must settle down and live together in peace and without fear. The same held true of their future children, of his sister Georgiana, of the Bennets, and of Bingley and Jane. None of these people deserved to have their peace or their lives destroyed. They were like ripples from a stone cast into the water, and his aunt and her insane plotting formed the center.
He forced his attention back to the conversation in time to hear Jane saying, “No, dearest. I do not wish to have supper in my rooms. I should like as many of us as possible to gather and eat together like the family we are. Dr. Price, I know you are tired. I will certainly have a tray sent up to you.”
“No, child. I agree with you completely. Let us take comfort and in one another’s company.” He looked at his watch. “It wants more than two hours yet of dinner time. I shall go up and rest.”
Darcy excused himself and went to the library. In the midst of the turmoil and sorrow, he had received an express from Derbyshire confirming his appointment of the Reverend Jeremiah Randall as rector of the parish in Kympton. This would be happy news indeed for Randall and Mary, and he decided to defer any announcement until he had the opportunity to confer privately with the clergyman.
He entered the drawing-room just as the family was gathering before dinner. To his astonishment and delight, Elizabeth entered on the arm of a footman, followed by her mother, who was quietly voicing her disapproval.
Darcy was at her side in an instant, kissing her hand. He hardly noticed the red mark on her jaw and cheek as he looked anxiously into her eyes. “Elizabeth! I had not expected to see you downstairs. I am so very—”
She smiled up at him. “I am glad to see you, too, Fitzwilliam. I rested and slept all afternoon, and I realized that if I am to sleep at all tonight, I should get up for a while.”
“But are you well? How are you feeling?”
She gestured to a small sofa, and they sat. “I heard the news. I am almost too distressed to speak of it. Poor, poor Charlotte.”
“It was a terrible thing,” he agreed. “But I have found that the innocent often suffer far more than the guilty. So, it was in this case. I do not believe that Mrs. Collins did anything to deserve such a terrible fate, and of course the child did not.” He looked at her intently. “But I am far more interested in you, my dearest, both in your health and in your mental state.”
“Mrs. Nicholls has assured me that this is a red mark occasioned by a slap and that there is no real bruising. It will be gone by the time of the wedding. I do not want to be confined to a sickroom when I do not need to be there. That will certainly have an influence on my mental state. As for the rest of it, Fitzwilliam, I hardly know what to say or what to think. I am angry with that man, even though he paid with his life. I am angry over what he said and did to me, but I am angrier still over what has happened to Charlotte. It is as though he carelessly looted and despoiled his own home of all that was precious and beautiful.” Darcy pressed her hand, and she paused for a moment. “And the church as well. And the people who cultivate his land.”
“Lizzy, he will never be able to injure you or anyone else again.”
“That will take some time to make an impression on me. But I am working on it.” Elizabeth dropped her eyes. “She named her babe after Jane and me, Fitzwilliam. She was always my best friend, and I hers. In all that shock and pain, she thought of me. I feel I must go to her.”
Darcy allowed his hand to hover over her injured face. “Allow this to heal for a few days, dearest, so it does not add to her shock. The other ladies will visit, I am sure. Write her a note and open your heart to her. That will be the best course of action for now.”
Dinner was announced, and Elizabeth smiled as Darcy assisted her to stand and gave her his arm. Everyone was determined to be cheerful. Emerson had come in, as he often did for family dinners, and Elizabeth noticed his kind smile when he offered his arm to her mother. Was he trying to comfort her? His smile appeared genuine, as though he were pleased to see her.
Talk at the dinner table was also determinedly cheerful and turned to plans for the wedding. Dr. Price managed a smile. “Elizabeth, I shall look forward to uniting you to your husband in the same church where I baptized you. It is fitting, and I would not miss it for all the world.”
“And will you resume your duties as vicar, Dr. Price?” asked Mrs. Bennet.
“I am determined to do so. Sadly, my first task will be to conduct the funeral services for Mr. Collins and Elizabeth Jane. But I will be back in that pulpit this coming Sunday.” He laid down his fork for a moment. “And I have decided not to retire. I shall be at Longbourn until I leave this earth, and I will rest in the churchyard someday.”
“I will speak to Sir William and Sir Henry, Dr. Price. Perhaps now that I own Netherfield, I can take over Mr. Bennet’s part of the subscription for the curate’s salary.”
The dinner continued with such pleasant talk, and understandably, the gentlemen declined to separate from the ladies. No one was interested in cards, and Mary favored them with a couple of quiet melodies on the pianoforte. Darcy and Elizabeth stood and took several turns about the room, speaking quietly to each other.
“Wickham will be here day after tomorrow morning at ten o’clock, Lizzy.”
“What could he possibly want?”
“I asked him to come. He reacted and behaved with a surprising show of decency when you were—when you were hurt. I wish to know what is on his mind, and I believe he will tell me.”
“Better you than me.” Elizabeth shuddered slightly. “Though I shall be eternally grateful to him for rescuing me from Collins.”
“Bingley and I will accompany you and Mary, as well as the coachman and footman, when you go on Friday to give your testimony. We shall be with you every step of the way.”
Elizabeth smiled tiredly. “And then, perhaps it will be over.”
Chapter 25
Darcy asked for and was granted the use of Bingley’s study, and he was seated behind the desk when Wickham sent in his card. The man swaggered in with his usual bravado, in his immaculate regimentals. His sword hung at his side, and Darcy realized with a shiver that it had been involved not forty-eight hours before in a man’s death.
“Yes, it is the same sword, Darcy,” said Wickham as if reading Darcy’s mind. “I have but one. I did ensure that it was thoroughly cleaned and polished.”
“Well, I suppose we can all be relieved about that. Please sit down. I shall not detain you for long.”
Wickham sat, and after declining both coffee and brandy, brought up what was on both their minds. “I suppose you are wondering why I bothered, eh Darcy? Especially when Collins offered to cut me in on the deal. I shall refrain from saying anything about the lady because I s
imply do not wish to offend you.”
“A wise course. So why did you bother?”
“Well, a few of my chickens came home to roost, and two months or so ago, I found my entire pay needed to be earmarked to satisfy some debts.”
“Why did you not just leave?”
“It was not convenient for me to leave. I had nowhere else to go, and I had settled comfortably into military life—or as comfortably as one can on the miserable pay. The girls are always attracted to the red coat, and I will confess I had begun to be interested in Miss Lydia Bennet.” He held up his hand. “No, let me finish. She would have been a cozy little armful to settle down with. Too bad she was left out in the cold when it came to a dowry. Hold your peace, Darcy. I never injured her.”
He threw a leg over the arm of his chair and sat back at his ease. “The problem was Denny. How was I to know that he’s an actual gentleman? Only son of an impoverished country squire of ancient lineage. The man actually behaves—well, he behaves in a gentlemanlike manner. You and Denny are cut from the same cloth. He does not have a pot to piss in, which is unfortunate. But he has been giving me little sums, trifling really, to tide me over until we’re paid so that at least I can eat and have my laundry done. No gambling, no sporting with the, ah, ladies, no quick trips to Town. In return for his largesse, he has asked me to behave in a more gentlemanlike manner myself.”
“Interesting.” Darcy wanted a brandy, so he poured one for each of them. “Go on.”
“Perhaps some of it has rubbed off on me.” Wickham shuddered. “Good God, I hope not. But be that as it may, Collins angered me. He is, or was, a disgusting pig, right down to his greasy, smelly hide. Miss Bennet has never harmed me or anyone else for that matter, in any significant way. She is beautiful, and she is a lady to her fingertips. She is far too good for the likes of Collins, and the thought of his—how should I put this—the thought of his imposing on her made me want to puke. I did not intend to kill him. I intended to keep him at bay and save him for the hangman. But when his wife walked up, my back was to her. He began to squirm like a fat worm on a fishhook, and he managed to do the job all by himself. And that, my dear Darcy, is the entire story.” Wickham was able to sneer even from his relaxed position in the chair. “I did not do it for glory. I did not do it for honor. He did it to himself through sheer stupidity, and the hangman has been cheated.” He thought for a moment. “As have we all. His public disgrace and hanging would have been a balm to everyone’s spirits.”
“Any repercussions from the law?”
“I have been ordered not to leave town before Friday, at which time there will be a hearing. I am not confined to quarters, nor did they take my sword. I should guess I am perfectly safe.”
“You have a large group of witnesses who can swear that you did nothing wrong. I count myself among that group.”
“Good God! Darcy is actually willing to do me a favor!” Wickham raised his eyes to heaven.
“Do not press your luck, Wickham. So, you plan to remain in the militia?”
“Not at all.” Wickham stood and began to pace. Darcy kept his seat and watched. “I plan to sell out my commission after I’m paid at the end of May. I have just enough to pay my passage—oh, the accommodations will not be luxurious—and friends have promised me decent work when I get there. I am going to Canada.”
“Canada is a big place. Where will you be?”
“Hudson’s Bay. I plan to go to work for the Hudson’s Bay Company. Think of me next time you purchase one of your fine beaver hats.”
“Very ambitious, Wickham. You know you will work your arse off, but you have the potential to make a respectable amount of money.”
“Ah, but there is an even better inducement than that.”
“Oh?”
“I am sick to death of you, Darcy. You and your life of privilege, and your money, and your fine lady, and all the rest of it. Some of that should have been mine. But life is not fair, and if I have to work for my fortune, at least I will have come by it honestly rather than having it handed to me as you have. For you see, the greatest inducement of all will be that there will be an entire ocean, and half a continent, between you and me. I need never think of you again. And I am so very tired of thinking of you.”
Darcy bit back his anger. “Fair enough. When do you sail, and upon what ship?”
“The Sparrowhawk. She sails out of Gravesend on the early tide on the 8th of June, and provided there’s no cock-up with my Army pay, I plan to be on her.”
Darcy thought for a long moment, then took out paper and pen. He wrote out a draft, sanded and folded it, and held it in his hand. “This is a draft in the amount of one thousand pounds. I presume you will want cash. My man of business, Mr. Peterson, will be on the dock at Gravesend at dawn, on the morning of the eighth day of June. He will hand the funds over to you in cash and wait there until you set sail. So long as you stay on the ship, the money is yours.” He laid the paper down on the desk and reached into a pocket. “This is fifty pounds.” He counted the money out and handed it to Wickham, who took it without a word. “Use it for such incidental expenses as your pay may not stretch to cover. If there is a cock-up with your pay, contact me here or at Darcy House and I will arrange things. And do consider using a small part of that money to repay Captain Denny.”
Wickham stood as if to leave, but Darcy held up a hand. “But a moment longer, Wickham.” He reached into a drawer, where he had laid a fat bundle of papers before Wickham’s arrival. “Finally, this bundle contains your notes—debts of honor and tradesman’s debts which I have cleared up for you over the past few years. Stay out of England and out of trouble for at least ten years, and I will destroy these. If I hear one word of your having set foot back in this country, I will call them in, and have you arrested. Do I make myself clear?”
“Abundantly.” Wickham stood again. “I won’t detain you any longer, Darcy.” He saluted with a wave of his hand. “I am most exceedingly grateful, and I hope I never see you again.”
Darcy stood also. “Thank you for your efforts on behalf of Miss Bennet.”
Wickham departed in a flash of red, and Darcy sat back, took a deep breath, and tossed off the rest of his brandy.
As he left the study, he found Elizabeth waiting in the hall. “I heard Mr. Wickham ride away,” she said. “He must have borrowed a horse, or else he stole one.” She smiled. “Will you walk with me?”
“I can think of nothing I would rather do.” He offered her his arm, and they left by a side door to the garden.
An instant later, Elizabeth was in his arms. She found his kisses to be exciting this morning, a heady mixture of possessiveness and something else that left her knees weak. She wanted to taste him thoroughly. Half out of her head, she threw her arms around his waist, under his coat, and pulled herself as close to him as she could possibly be. A delicious, spreading warmth seemed to well up within her, and she stood on tiptoe to bring him closer still as she felt the solid evidence of his desire for her. Their kiss seemed endless.
Darcy, for his part, was suddenly aware of their movements. He had always maintained that small distance between them that guaranteed their safety, and it had disappeared as though it had never been. He wanted to carry her upstairs or imprison her body between himself and the wall, anything to possess her. Bless her, she had no idea of the effect she was having on him, and it fell to him to put a stop to it. “Lizzy,” he murmured against her lips. “This is a pleasure we must save until after we are wed.”
“I understand,” she said, and he could feel her lips moving on his as she spoke. “I am sorry.”
“Oh, do not apologize. You must never apologize. You are the most wonderful creature I have ever beheld. The time I spend with you is like heaven on earth. Our time will come.” He placed his fingertips on her mouth, and she kissed them before claiming his lips for a final kiss.
Their ardor was considerably dampened by the sound of a polite cough originating behind the hedge. They
jumped apart and had just time enough to calm their breathing before a footman appeared.
“I beg your pardon, sir. A rider has just arrived from London with this letter for you.” He held out a silver tray, and Darcy took the letter.
“Let us find a bench, dearest. This is from my uncle, and it will be of interest to both of us.”
They sat, and Darcy read quickly. “It is over,” he finally said. “Lady Catherine has been declared incompetent, and my uncle has been declared her guardian. She is in the asylum he described when I saw him last, and she will never leave it.” He looked down at Elizabeth. “He says here that her decline has been dramatic and that she does not recognize him when he visits.”
Elizabeth took his hand. “I understand that she was made this way by her husband, whom she doubtless married in all innocence. Perhaps we might say that her sickness has done this. Had her life been different, she might have been simply your irascible old aunt. Now, what of Anne.”
“He mentions that Anne is with them in London under the care of their physician. They believe she will recover sufficiently to take her rightful place as mistress of Rosings.”
The afternoon was quiet, at least for Elizabeth and Darcy. Bingley had volunteered to represent the family at the funeral services for both Collins and the infant, which were held at Longbourn church that afternoon. He returned shaking his head.
“The saddest funeral I ever wish to attend,” he told Darcy. “There were no honors for the master of Longbourn such as were accorded to Mr. Bennet. He was transported by the undertaker, and six strangers carried his coffin.” He shook his head. “The tenants reserved all their honor and respect for the baby. The little coffin was mounded with spring flowers and carried by the tenants with a great deal of tenderness. I am glad it is over.” He poured himself a brandy. “Dr. Price is resting.”
