Darcy and Elizabeth--A Most Unlikely Couple

by Brenda J. Webb

  “You! Afraid of a few spiders?” George chided. “I thought you were tougher than that.”

  “Spiders I do not fear so much, though I hate being bitten, but snakes are another thing altogether. Besides, I have not seen you sleep on the ground either.”

  “No, and you will not. I do not intend to rest until this is over. Darcy should have been notified by now and knowing him as well as I do, he will not dally. He could appear at any time!”

  “Let us hope he does,” Andrew sighed. “I have to agree with Pate about the snakes, and it is hot as blazes in this godforsaken shack.”

  Duke spoke up. “Aye, it is hot. I have drunk all my water and half a bottle of wine already.”

  “You had better slow down,” Denny declared. “None of us are leaving until this is finished.”

  Duke glared at him. “You cannot make us stay.”

  “I can make certain that you do not leave,” Denny retorted. “You wanted to be part of this job, and you will see it finished. That has always been our rule.”

  Pate and Duke exchanged glances, but neither felt brave enough to answer. Seeing the tension that was mounting, Andrew reached into his sack.

  “Here. Have some of my water, and sit on the bucket next to the wall. Rest until Darcy arrives.”

  Pate hesitated for only a second before grabbing the water and taking his place against the wall.

  PEMBERLEY

  The stables

  There was little fanfare when William left Pemberley to meet the rogue who had kidnapped Elizabeth. Exiting the front door, he walked resolutely down the steps to his waiting stallion. Only Mr. Walker came to see him off, for he carried the satchel that held almost every jewel the Darcy family had accumulated through the years, as well as nearly a thousand pounds that had been in the safe. As William took the bag from the butler and hung it over the saddle, he met the eyes of his faithful servant.

  “Thank you, Walker,” he called as he kicked Zeus into a trot and then a gallop when he reached the long drive.

  As he rode toward Lambton, William recalled what Mrs. Reynolds and Mr. Walker had told him after the meeting with the servants. Two were missing, a footman named Barrows and a maid named Molly. Oddly enough, they had been under scrutiny for their propensity to talk privately in remote places in the house. Now, it appeared that they were the chief suspects.

  While the notion that his servants may have been spying on his family sunk in, Mrs. Reynolds informed him of her suspicions regarding Georgiana’s maid, Florence. Telling him what the other maids had witnessed and what she had seen for herself, she insisted that she had put off telling him when he was injured, resolving to share that information after he was much improved. Having no time or inclination to deal with Florence’s behaviour at present, William declared that he would talk with her after Elizabeth and the others were safely home.

  As he rode steadily toward the woman he loved with all his heart, it took all his strength not to crumble under the awareness that this whole debacle could turn out very badly. Remembering his aunt’s admonition to trust God, he put his mind to work quoting all the promises in scriptures that he could remember.

  BRIARWOOD MANOR

  Elizabeth’s bedroom

  A day as monotonous and colourless as the last greeted Elizabeth and Betsey upon awakening and an air of deep gloom still pervaded the room. When the housekeeper appeared to declare that the master wished Elizabeth to join him in the breakfast room, the request was met with coldness. She declined. When a tray was brought up later, she proceeded to eat with Betsey as usual, and everything seemed calm... for a while.

  Nearing noon, though, the door to the bedroom flew open, slamming against the wall, as Baron Acton stepped inside. That he would invade their privacy without knocking was disquieting, though Elizabeth determined he would not see her cower. Betsey, however, could not help but shudder at first sight of their captor’s disfigurement.

  “Mrs. Darcy,” Baron Acton said, demonstrating his displeasure by a contemptuous sneer. “I requested that you dine with me last evening and you refused. Then this morning you refused to join me to break your fast.”

  “I have no desire to dine with my jailer.”

  His reply was swift and caustic. “I explained why you are here!” Then his lips parted in a forced smile as his voice softened. “Allow me to begin again. Mrs. Darcy, would you care to join me in the dining room for tea and refreshments? I wish to explain what is to happen when your husband comes.”

  Elizabeth eyes danced with malice. “Do you not mean if my husband comes?”

  “Quite right. I meant to say if he comes.” He held out his arm as though expecting her to comply.

  Her heart fluttering with a vague terror, Elizabeth placed her hand on his outstretched arm. “I do wish to know your plans.”

  “I thought you would.”

  Betsey watched as he escorted her mistress out of the room, and the door closed behind them. Releasing a deep breath, she prayed, Lord, save us from this madman.

  BRIARWOOD’S DINING room

  The baron, in an attempt to make a good impression, displayed an overabundance of silver, china and crystal upon an intricately woven, Belgian lace tablecloth gracing a mahogany dining table. Plates of exotic fruits, bowls of nutmeats and an array of cakes and biscuits competed for space amongst a choice of beverages—tea, coffee and lemonade. Nevertheless, the fare was not the only thing meant to impress, for this room depicted the sheer opulence of a once grand estate.

  The thick carpet, unlike the rest of the house, was new. It was a stunning shade of blue that complimented the gold, green and blue accents of the cream-coloured Chinese wallpaper. A magnificent chandelier glistened from its place over the centre of the table, while four enormous portraits of bucolic scenes were centred on each wall.

  Elizabeth was lost in studying them when the baron spoke, his lips loosening into an exultant smile.

  “I see you approve.”

  This caused her to divert her eyes, though it was apparent that he expected an answer.

  “I admit to being surprised. This room is such a contrast to the others.”

  “I had this one updated to my taste. I intend to do the rest of the house as well.” He hesitated before adding, “Only, of late, I began to think I might want to seek a woman’s opinion. The right woman would have an unlimited allowance to renovate the house and grounds as she wished.”

  Forebodings of dread possessed her, and Elizabeth’s throat constricted. She regarded him stonily. Was he insinuating that she could be that woman?

  Still, he rattled on. “Until lately, I had no intention of ever caring for another woman. Knowing you has changed my mind.”

  “We do not know one another, sir.”

  “Oh, but I do know you from the numerous reports of my servants. I began to admire you for keeping your marriage vows in spite of your husband’s indifference. Most women would not have.”

  “You eavesdropped on personal conversations, yet you seem to feel superior?”

  “I did what I had to do—first, to find out the truth about my injury and second, to protect you when I began to believe you were also in danger.”

  “I say again that I do not need protection from Fitzwilliam.”

  “You may change your mind. In any event, I want you to know that I am extremely wealthy, and soon I will step back into my rightful place. I will inherit all of my godfather’s wealth very shortly, as he is not well. Should you decide to leave Darcy, I can take care of you.”

  Elizabeth stared at him as though he were insane, though her mind raced with questions. If he favoured her, would this madman let William live if she pleaded for his life?

  “Am I to understand that you care not what society thinks? If I left Fitzwilliam it would bring scandal and, as you have stated, you are only just now stepping back into your rightful place. Would that not be a detriment to regaining your place?”

  “When I refer to my place, I am speaking of my wealth
and rank, not propriety! All propriety has gotten me was nearly killed. I care not if the ton receives me ever again.”

  “Know this, I could never befriend anyone who would do Fitzwilliam harm.”

  “Never say never, my dear. See what he has to say regarding my accusations first, for you may find yourself stunned at the depth of his depravity.”

  “I am certain that it is you who will be enlightened.”

  “We could argue that point forever, but that is not why you are here. I wish you to know what will occur if Fitzwilliam comes.” She nodded mutely. “He will be ushered into the front drawing room—the one in which we first met. There is an alcove to the left side, where a pianoforte used to be placed. A curtain divides that part from the rest of the room, and you will be sitting behind it. From there you will be able to hear everything. Of course, I will need to make certain that you cannot speak or make your presence known until I am ready. For that I apologize.”

  “So you mean to gag me and tie me to a chair?”

  “Only of necessity, I assure you. Once Fitzwilliam answers all my questions, the gag will be removed, and you will be free to speak.”

  “May I ask what your intentions are?”

  “You mean, do I intend to kill him?”

  She blinked back threatening tears, her voice catching involuntarily as she murmured, “Ye... yes.”

  “I can truthfully say that I have not decided. At one point, I would have done so without giving it a thought. Now, due to your faith in him, it will depend upon his answers.”

  “You have to believe me. William is a good man who would never harm anyone intentionally.”

  “I hope he can convince me as strongly as he has convinced you.”

  “You must give him a fair chance to do so.”

  For a long moment the baron seemed to consider that. “I am giving him a fairer chance than I was given.”

  Chapter 47

  Briarwood Manor

  As William approached the place where the map indicated he was to deliver the ransom, he realised that he might have ridden straight past the drive if he had not caught sight of recent coach tracks on the shoulder of the road. Clearly created during the recent rain, they had hardened in the sunlight afterward, a silent testament to the fact that an estate did indeed exist on that side of the road. Pulling Zeus to a stop, he studied the overgrowth of vines, brush, trees and weeds which almost hid a once magnificent wrought-iron gate about fifty feet away. It stood open in invitation to a road so overrun with vegetation that it, too, was concealed. Nonetheless, he nudged Zeus in that direction.

  If he sought proof that the drive had recently accommodated a heavy vehicle, deep ruts in the little gravel left were convincing enough. Plainly, wheels had sunk deep into mud, while small trees, weeds and shrubs were flattened in a band down the middle. Taking a deep breath of air and whispering another prayer, William kicked Zeus forward. He had gone no more than thirty yards, when he heard a horse whinny and looked to the left where a dilapidated guard shack was barely visible underneath a layer of vines. He had no time to consider what that meant, for immediately, he heard horses’ hooves pounding the ground, and that brought his attention back to the drive. Four men came galloping towards him, so he held his hands up in surrender. Once they surrounded him, one of the men seized Zeus’ reins, and they headed back down the drive. After about a half-mile, a red-brick manor house came into view. It appeared to be as neglected as the rest of the estate, for it was in dire need of paint, and what shutters were not missing hung precariously by a single hinge. William shuddered to think what Elizabeth had endured inside this dilapidated prison.

  As soon as they came to a halt, William was pulled from Zeus, and his hands were tied behind him. With a man on either side, he was marched into the house. Trying to remember everything he saw along the way, William found it difficult, for the inside of the house was very dark. Ushered down a long hallway, he was shoved into a room, causing him to lose his balance. He hit the floor hard on his injured left shoulder, which caused him to groan in spite of his best efforts. Ignoring the pain, he forced himself to get back on his knees and was abruptly pulled to his feet again. It was just in time to see the satchel he brought handed to a man sitting in a large chair facing the opposite direction. A single candelabrum was brought forward, and the stranger proceeded to pour the contents of the bag on a table. William watched as various pieces of jewellery were selected for inspection before being placed back into the satchel. Next the cash was counted. He was about to demand to see Elizabeth when the stranger spoke.

  “I am surprised! In truth, I did not expect you to bring the Darcys’ most prized pieces.”

  William bristled at the insult. “I would give everything I own for Elizabeth. I love her.”

  “Oh, really?” The gentleman stood and turned to him, though he kept his face hidden in the shadows. What William could see clearly, though, was the pistol in his hand. “Not according to what I have been told. I have had spies in your service for almost a year, Mr. Darcy, so I know everything that has transpired since you wed Elizabeth.”

  William bristled at the use of his wife’s Christian name, but vowed not to lose his temper. “I have given you all that you demanded! Now, let me see my wife!”

  “Not just yet,” the black-clad figure said, coming closer. Then he laughed. “How does it feel not to be in control?”

  “It is not my favourite position from which to bargain.”

  The man guffawed. “Still the same after all these years, I see. At least you are honest regarding that one thing.”

  With a cold gaze of curiosity, William ventured warily, “Do I know you?”

  “At one time, I considered you a close friend.”

  Suddenly, William recognised the voice. “Fletcher?”

  “Lord Hartley to you.”

  “But, I thought you were—”

  “Dead.” Hartley finished, stepping into the light. Reflexively, William gasped at his appearance.

  “Are you disappointed? After all, I am sure that a good deal of money went toward planning my demise. As you can see, it was not money well spent.”

  “Wha... what happened?”

  “I escaped with my life, but not intact, as you have noted. I lost an eye, and one leg is now a bit shorter than the other, but I shall not bore you with all the gruesome details. What I brought you here to learn is why you conspired with my wife to kill me? Who carried out the actual assault? Was it you?”

  “I would never—” William sputtered, angry to be accused of such evil.

  “Let me tell you why I believe you are lying,” Hartley interrupted. “When I first met Lady Susan, I fell deeply in love with her. I realised at the time that she was not in love with me, but I felt that, given the opportunity, I might be able to win her heart. Imagine my surprise when the summer after you and I graduated from university, she began to notice me. Of course, it was only after you had left for Scotland, but all the ladies were trying to catch your eye then, so I thought nothing of it. It was barely a month later that she hinted she would accept an offer if I felt inclined to make one. I was deliriously happy, and we wed in a few short weeks.

  “I was just as pleased when only two months later she informed me that she was with child. When she delivered a boy at seven months, I accepted her explanation that the child was early.” Hartley walked over to a liquor cabinet, poured a glass of brandy and tossed the contents down his throat. “I suppose I could not accept what was right before my eyes, for he weighed as much as a full-term babe. Nonetheless, as he neared his first birthday, I could no longer pretend that he was mine; for, in fact, he is the spitting image of you!”

  “I did not father that child! I swear that I never bedded Lady Susan.”

  “That is a bit hard to accept, given that it was your name she called in her sleep, not mine, and the fact that she insisted on naming the boy William. Do you see my dilemma?”

  “Forgive me, but I must be blunt. It was no
secret that Lady Susan expected to be the next mistress of Pemberley. Even when she was a mere girl, she told all who would listen that I would marry her. However, she never held any allure for me.”

  “Never? I find that hard to believe. After all, you are a man, and she is a beautiful woman.”

  “I could have had many beautiful women.”

  “How well I know.”

  “Beauty was never my measure for felicity. After you were presumed dead, she renewed her friendship with my sister, and they became very close. Georgiana hinted that if I married Susan, it would help to mend our broken relationship, so it crossed my mind. Nevertheless, I quickly abandoned the idea when my cousin reminded me of something important.”

  “Your cousin?”

  “Colonel Fitzwilliam.” Hartley nodded so William continued. “When I spoke to him about Lady Susan, he was quick to remind me that she had always shared a peculiarly close relationship with George Wickham and my cousin, Andrew, both of whom I never trusted. Had she severed those relationships after she became an adult, I might have seen their familiarity as a childish mistake. As it was, I could not disagree with my cousin.”

  “And you know for certain that she is still close to both?”

  “Until recently, I spoke often with Andrew as I had to manage his inheritance. He boasted of being in her company often, with and without George Wickham. I think he believed it would upset me to know they were all still good friends.”

  “How do I know you are not lying to save yourself?”

  “Think, Fletcher! You lived with her long enough to know Susan better than anyone, and you stated that she was a part of the attempt on your life. I am not the only man the child favours. If Susan is as evil as you believe, she would have no trouble bedding Andrew or, I would submit, Wickham as well.”

  Hartley said nothing, quietly listening, so William continued. “I presume that the boy is Andrew’s. Not being able to seduce me, it would likely have been Susan’s plan to ensure the child looked like me. She has already tried to convince Georgiana that he is mine, for my sister confronted me with that lie just days ago. I assured her that I am not the father of that child, he is not my heir, and no court in England would hold that to be true!”