by Suzan Lauder
My dearest Fan,
I am sorry to have left you alone, but it could not be avoided. I had not slept well last night, and I arose while you were still sleeping. I dressed and was on my way to the breakfast room when one of Mr. Darcy’s footmen came to inform me that, when they arrived this morning, Elizabeth was not in the house and she had been seen walking out alone shortly before sunrise. They were about to be off to find her when they realized that I had arisen and courteously apprised me of the situation. I summoned Mr. Darcy, who arrived just as my note to him was dispatched. He had received word that Wickham was planning to kidnap Elizabeth today and came immediately to let me know, and to advise the footmen guarding her to take extra care should she leave the house. They have already gone to the park where she usually walks, and we are to meet Darcy’s cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam who will also assist in protecting her from Mr. Wickham. Time is my adversary; I will be off as soon as I am finished penning this note. Do not worry for me. I will bring her back to you today.
With all my love,
Thomas
Mrs. Bennet rushed out in her dressing gown, and she was told that Mr. Bennet had already left the house. Since it was still early, she dressed herself and tried in vain to attend to her needlework. After waiting nearly an hour, she finally rose to watch from the front window, desperately looking for anything that would show her husband and daughter were safe.
There was no suppressing her memories; they slammed into her mind with brutal force. Elizabeth could very well be in the hands of a man who was known as a licentious rake. She dreaded that history would repeat itself.
***
Wickham congratulated himself on his good luck in having found Elizabeth alone with his accomplice. His plans to kidnap her would be accomplished exactly in the way he had hoped with no trouble from any protectors. Mrs. Younge delivered her as he had demanded, and he would soon have Elizabeth to himself and humiliate her for escaping him in Kent. The power he felt was exhilarating. There would be nothing to stop him from collecting on his demands for a sum generous enough to set him up for years to come.
But Wickham would not stop there. A great deal of pleasure had fallen on his lap; he would tup the chit, and then his revenge on Bennet and Darcy would be complete. But as he waited for Elizabeth to introduce him to Mrs. Younge, he heard the pounding of feet behind him. He snapped his attention toward two imposing men dressed in Darcy’s livery who were briskly moving towards them.
Seeing the size of the footmen, Wickham briefly looked around for a place to run. With the grove behind him and the footmen rapidly advancing, he saw no easy way of escape, so he considered his options and decided to use the contingency plan he had agreed upon with Bertha Younge: she would constrain Elizabeth until Wickham could grab hold of her, and then he would use his position to negotiate with her protectors. He cagily stared at the footmen while waving his hand towards Mrs. Younge to signal her to initiate the plan.
But Wickham was not aware of Mrs. Younge’s duplicity. She had sent a waif to inform Darcy that this was the day Wickham was planning to strike. Because she was certain that Darcy would have matters in hand without her further assistance, she initially thought not to attend as Wickham was expecting her to. But just in case there was a problem and Darcy did not get there in time, she decided to appear in the park. She had not known what she would do in that case, but now the situation was upon her, and she had to react.
With the footmen capturing Wickham’s attention, Mrs. Younge took advantage of the distraction and firmly grasped Elizabeth by the arms. But rather than deliver her to Wickham as he anticipated, she attempted to pull Elizabeth away from him. She nearly succeeded, but Elizabeth was startled and instinctively struggled against the restraint. Elizabeth stumbled, but Mrs. Younge caught her by the elbow and managed to right her. However, amidst the scuffle between the two women, Wickham was able to successfully wrench Elizabeth out of his accomplice’s hands, causing Mrs. Younge to fall. She cried out in pain.
Wickham quickly and roughly pulled Elizabeth into a position in front of him, trapping her arms beneath his. Jenkins and Roberts rapidly closed in on them but, when Wickham pulled out a knife, they stilled their progress. Surprised that he intended to use unreasonable force, Mrs. Younge screamed. Wickham backed away, pulling a frustrated Elizabeth with him while waving the knife with his other hand. He laughed when he saw the burly footmen stop in their tracks.
At that moment, he heard a familiar voice behind him. He turned to confirm his suspicions while still holding Elizabeth fast against his body. He saw Darcy approaching and Colonel Fitzwilliam helping Mrs. Younge off the ground. Now there were four men coming down on him like lions to their prey. He remained smug in spite of the growing disadvantage to his position. He rounded upon them, dragging Elizabeth along, and stabbed the knife at the air in staccato motions.
“You would do best to release her, Wickham,” Darcy said. “Your plan has failed, and you will be taken into custody no matter what you do now. It is best for you to minimize your sentence.” He could not help adding, “You did not think you would be found out, did you, Wickham? Had you not made so many enemies in the past, it may have been harder to catch you, but you are a fool.”
“You are the fool, Darcy. My friend here will tell you that I have already compromised your woman!” Wickham said, cocking his head towards Mrs. Younge and waving the knife in the same direction.
Elizabeth thought this an opportunity to escape and jerked hard to pull out of his grip. She twisted about and ducked under his arm, attempting to go behind him. Darcy leapt forward, but Wickham quickly regained hold of her. She could now feel the blade of the knife firmly placed against the skin of her neck. She felt the tension in Wickham’s body and realized he was not only unprepared for the onslaught of men, but that he was alarmed by the implications of being caught. She was equally alarmed. She looked towards Darcy with pleading eyes, hoping he would not be hasty in intercepting Wickham’s attack. Darcy’s jaw flexed in frustration as he looked daggers at Wickham.
In his efforts to maintain his hold on Elizabeth, Wickham had not seen another man join them. As soon as he caught a glance at the new arrival, Wickham wondered who he was and why he was there until he spoke.
“Let go of my daughter, you cur,” Bennet growled.
Wickham realized this was the man, previously seen only from across a crowded ballroom, who had been the instigator of all his recent hardships. He raised his eyebrows.
“Pleased to meet you, Bennet.” Wickham smirked and took the opportunity to gloat and taunt Bennet. “I know all your secrets, and I have known them for some time. I know you have access to a lot of money, and I will not let her go until I am satisfied.”
“What do you want, Wickham?” Bennet observed his antagonist warily. He was doing his best to remain calm but all he could think about was his desperate worry for Elizabeth’s safety.
Wickham was smug as this time he was in the superior position. “I want a ticket to America with Mrs. Younge and £30,000. That is what Darcy tricked me out of when he broke off my engagement with his sister.”
“There was no engagement, Wickham—just your devilry to manipulate a poor trusting girl,” Darcy hissed.
Wickham laughed. “She is no girl now, Darcy, not after I was done with her, and the same can be said for your betrothed.” Bennet had to restrain Darcy as he lunged towards Wickham. Darcy crushed his hands into frustrated fists.
“Mrs. Younge will not be travelling with you, Wickham,” Bennet said, “and you will no longer be able to take advantage of her. She helped us stop you from abducting Elizabeth.”
“Bertha, you are coming with me, are you not?”
“No, I am not,” said Mrs. Younge from her position behind him.
“Fair enough. Then I will take Lady Elizabeth with me. I am sure she would rather marry me than Darcy.”
At this, Darcy nearly burst with anger but wisely held back in fear of further harm to Elizabeth. The frow
n creasing her forehead showed that Elizabeth’s offence at the statement matched his.
Wickham cackled. “Darcy, you are such a prig.”
He turned his attention to Mrs. Younge, and the movement caused the knife to break the skin of Elizabeth’s neck. Darcy and Bennet were horrified to see blood. Mrs. Younge screamed again, and Wickham laughed.
“So, Bertha, would you rather stay here in your sorry situation or trade places with this little filly?”
“George, I am through with your filthy cheating and lying,” Mrs. Younge said diffidently, her voice wavering. “This is the last time you will coerce me to help you for the purpose of lining your pockets. You left me to a less than honourable position in society while you gambled away the proceeds of our escapades. Mr. Darcy has made me a better offer, and I can now live my life with a more respectable profession.”
“A better offer?” Wickham said, incredulous. “Do you think he will keep his word—after he stole from me, first by denying me the living at Kympton, and then by interfering with my marriage to his sister? Darcy is not interested in helping you, Bertha. He is disgusted with people like us. He will rid himself of you as soon as he pays the ransom and gets back his sweetheart. I promise you that we will have enough money to move to the Continent or live a life of ease in America.”
“No. When I trusted you, you lied and left me with almost nothing. Mr. Darcy is an honourable man. He was willing to help me regain my self-esteem and provide me with some money despite my ill-treatment of him and Miss Darcy. You never shared the profits from your schemes with me; you took advantage of me and then left for greener pastures.” Mrs. Younge had tears in her eyes and wrapped her arms around herself.
“You are such an ineffectual woman, Bertha. Who do you expect to warm your bed if not me? Surely not Darcy; he is much too cold. You will never be respectable.” Wickham laughed, and Mrs. Younge began to cry.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Colonel Fitzwilliam had moved behind him and was closer than he had realized. Wickham twisted his body sideways to gain a better view of his challenger.
“Fitzwilliam! You are too late to protect her!” He casually gestured to the man with his knife.
With the momentary distraction—and the blade no longer at Elizabeth’s throat—the timing was perfect for Jenkins to divest Wickham of his knife while Darcy tugged Elizabeth free of his grasp and took her in his arms. Simultaneously, Roberts grabbed Wickham and knocked him to the ground, pinning him down with his weight.
“Your own imprudence has cost you again, Wickham,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam. “We will be taking you to Bow Street, and if you give us more trouble, remind yourself that we might think to re-introduce you to your commander in the ——shire.”
Bennet turned to address Wickham’s one-time accomplice. “I thank you, Mrs. Younge, for your help today.”
“You will pay for this, Bennet! And you too, you backstabbing woman!” Wickham said resentfully. “You have betrayed me too many times! I will be back for your betrothed, Darcy, and you will be sorry when she prefers me.”
“You will not be back for a long time, Wickham. You are a wastrel, a deserter, a horse thief and a kidnapper. You have used your friends ill and have violated their honour to pay for your extravagant lifestyle. If you escape the noose, or if you are not in the military prison for life, I will send you to a debtor’s prison for the promissory notes you have left behind. It is time you faced the truth: the game is up.” While Darcy made his speech, Elizabeth glowered at Wickham from her position in Darcy’s arms.
“Farewell then, Lady Elizabeth. I know you are marrying him because he is rich, but I also know that you wanted me first.”
Darcy released Elizabeth and moved as if to attack Wickham, but Bennet grabbed his arm. “Darcy, you know he is lying. Let it go.”
However, Elizabeth was not stayed and she stepped bravely toward the restrained criminal with her hands in fists and her lips pressed into an unforgiving line. Wickham could not help but be struck by her boldness after his efforts to terrorize her.
Elizabeth spoke fiercely, with only a small waver in her voice. “Mr. Wickham, you are mistaken if you think I could ever have any regard for you. From the first of our acquaintance, I was struck by your ill manners and arrogance, and it was not long before I found out your lack of sincerity and evil tendencies. You are a scoundrel and a cur. I was only prevailed upon to speak to you because I am a gentlewoman and could not forget my manners.”
With that, an incensed Elizabeth turned and headed to Gracechurch Street at a brisk, angry pace with a distinct frown on her face, her arms swinging forcefully. A shaken Wickham realized that not only had he failed in his efforts to kidnap her, but he had not the power over her that he had imagined. In short, even with his previous assault, she would not be cowed and held the upper hand. His ego deflated as he realized the position he was left in. He would have no revenge and would be the only one left in fear and anxiety at the end of the day.
“Fitzwilliam, do you mind escorting the ladies back to the Gardiner residence?” Darcy asked. “Bennet and I have unfinished business.”
The colonel dipped his head in acknowledgement and offered his arm to Mrs. Younge. They trailed closely behind Elizabeth, who was still in high dudgeon from the events of the morning. Darcy watched as his cousin caught up to his betrothed and was relieved when she took the colonel’s other arm before continuing along.
***
When Fanny Bennet saw her daughter being escorted to the house, she had to restrain herself from bursting into tears and rushing to Elizabeth, but she did not want to alarm her. Instead, she retired to the sitting room in a ladylike fashion, nervously smoothing her skirts. She had seen Elizabeth’s tight jaw and that she carried herself as if extremely vexed and was prepared to help calm her temper. But when Elizabeth burst through the door, the tension in her face broke, and Mrs. Bennet leapt to her feet as her daughter rushed into her arms. She held Elizabeth tightly and wanted never to let go, but at length she pulled away to look at her. Mrs. Bennet immediately saw the mark on Elizabeth’s neck and gasped while reaching out to inspect the injury. She once again nearly broke down but instead quickly summoned a maid to bring a bowl of warm water and some cloths. She held her daughter’s face in her hands and searched Elizabeth’s eyes.
“I am all right, Mama. There is no need to worry,” Elizabeth said with a voice that was intended to show confidence, except the tears threatening to spill from her eyes betrayed her.
“I am glad you are home, my love,” Mrs. Bennet replied softly, her voice breaking ever so slightly. She pulled her daughter back into her arms, closing her eyes and breathing a sigh of relief.
After a moment thus, Elizabeth pulled back from her mother’s embrace. Realising there was another person in the room, Mrs. Bennet composed herself. Elizabeth introduced the unknown gentleman as Colonel Fitzwilliam, Mr. Darcy’s cousin. Mrs. Bennet summoned the housekeeper to take Lady Elizabeth to Mrs. Bennet’s private bedchamber and to redirect the maid there to attend to her injury.
When they had left the sitting room, Mrs. Bennet returned her attention to her guest. She thanked him and attempted to offer refreshments, but he gave his regards and indicated there was another lady waiting in the hall for him to escort home. He politely excused himself and departed. The instant the door closed behind him, she closed her eyes and leaned back against the wall, her breath coming in short gasps. The butler, concerned about her health, came to her side and assisted her to a chair, calling for salts. She waved him off, composed herself, and rushed to her daughter’s side.
When she entered the bedchamber, she found Elizabeth crying silently while the maid cared for her injury. She excused the maid, tenderly took her daughter in her arms and rocked her, soothing her while Elizabeth recounted the events of the day and responded to her mother’s gently worded questions. Although Elizabeth did not express her fear in so many words, rather focusing her anger at being imposed upon in such a w
ay, Mrs. Bennet was sensible to the overwhelming feelings of helplessness that her daughter attempted to hide beneath a brave façade.
Finally, Elizabeth’s tears abated, and she was able to breathe more evenly. Mrs. Bennet examined the injury and found that it was just a scratch so minor that, once cleaned up, it was hardly visible. Elizabeth was not so easily mollified; she worried that the mark might be noticeable for the important event at Almacks that night. When her mother suggested she would be better to claim illness and stay home to rest, Elizabeth fervently protested that she was well enough. She did not want her lack of attendance to call into question the appropriateness of the Lydon ladies being issued an invitation to such a prestigious gathering.
Wisely changing the topic to reduce her daughter’s agitation, Mrs. Bennet spoke of the plans they had for an outing that day, and that most certainly a visit to the bookseller’s would be included. When Elizabeth had been undressed and helped into her nightshift, Mrs. Bennet brushed out her hair. Her mother’s ministrations helped Elizabeth to relax and realize that the ordeal had exhausted her. Fanny remained at her bedside until her daughter fell asleep then retired to the bedchamber she shared with her husband, threw herself on the bed, and cried her heart out.
It had not happened to Elizabeth. Her questions had verified it; there was no hesitation, no averting of her eyes when Elizabeth spoke of the details of the assault. Fanny’s relief was overwhelming, but the memory was no longer buried in the back of her mind, and she did not know how she would survive it haunting her again. She needed Thomas. When she had exhausted her tears, she called the maid to say that she wished to be left alone for the rest of the morning and to send word to the family that she was suffering from a headache.
