by K C Kahler
“And I was crushed when I learned of your secret engagement.”
He shook his head. “I should be furious with my aunt, but I must admit that Anne and I left her just enough hope to avoid a confrontation all these years. We were cowardly.”
“Well, Lady Catherine and Miss de Bourgh have certainly had that confrontation now—in Longbourn’s sitting room, no less. Your cousin revealed that she is engaged to a Mr Christopher Grantly.”
“Engaged! She wasted no time once she made up her mind. That is just like Anne. But why are they come to Longbourn?”
“Lady Catherine came to demand Lydia give up her aspirations to catch you for a husband.” He would have laughed, but she worried her brow. “Lydia is no doubt feeling betrayed by me and by you. She overheard everything Miss de Bourgh told me about your letters and what you wrote about me. I must make amends to Lydia somehow. She will be hurt and angry. We lied to everyone, Fitzwilliam.”
“I shall speak to her if you wish.”
“No, I must do it.”
“Fancy meeting you here, Miss Elizabeth, Mr Darcy.” John Lucas ambled up alongside them. “It is a very fine day for walking, is it not?”
“John! Why do you have Mr Darcy’s horse?”
He dismounted. “Did he not tell you? We are trying an exchange for the day. From the look of Mr Darcy’s trousers and your poorly fitting gloves, I am to wish you joy, Lizzybits.”
She went to him with a laugh, and they embraced. Darcy found he was no longer jealous of John Lucas. He wondered, though, whether the gentleman’s easy smile hid deeper feelings for Elizabeth. Darcy supposed he would never know—he certainly would not ask such a question. Whatever John Lucas felt for Elizabeth, it was clear he wanted only her happiness. Darcy was much more inclined to like him now.
“Thank you, John. Did you have a hand in sending Mr Darcy to Longbourn?”
“I did, once I realised you were completely wrong, and he was neither dying nor engaged. You two seem prone to dreadful misunderstandings, but I am glad they have been cleared up to everyone’s contentment.” Lucas offered Darcy his hand. “You are a lucky man.”
Darcy shook it. “Luckier than I deserve.”
“Well, I was about to go to Longbourn, but I imagine they are not yet aware of your happy news.”
Elizabeth answered, “No, they are not.”
“Then I shall go home instead. Such joyous news should come from you, though I may not be able to resist telling Charlotte.” He swung himself up into Darcy’s saddle.
“Oh yes, tell Charlotte she was right about Mr Darcy all along.”
He laughed. “She usually is.” He tipped his hat to each of them. “I shall see you both soon, no doubt. Mr Darcy, you know where to retrieve your fine animal.”
Darcy smirked, “I do.”
Lucas moved past them, but then stopped. “You had better move off the road to continue your…conversation. As unlikely as it seems, footprints here indicate there are other people about today.” He urged Darcy’s mount into a trot and was gone.
Darcy looked around them. A more private locale would be desirable at present. He pulled Elizabeth off the road in the opposite direction of the stream.
“You must tell me how Mr Hurst fares,” she said.
“I shall tell you, but right now, we have some unfinished business.”
“Unfinished business?”
“Yes, I have been greatly regretting that we were interrupted on the balcony the other night.”
She blushed. “Oh.”
He took her face in his hands and caressed those blushing cheeks. She held his gaze steadily. He moved his thumb over her bottom lip. She closed her eyes and sighed. He could not resist any longer. He stooped to brush her lips with his.
Her lips were softer than he had imagined. Her kiss sweeter, more exquisite than any dream could be—and he had had plenty of dreams. But now he wanted to kiss her again and again. And again. And not just on those sweet lips, but everywhere. Better to stop while he had some measure of control.
He pulled back barely an inch and looked upon her. She waited, her face tilted up, her eyes closed, her lips slightly parted. How many times had he dreamt of her like this? How many times had he prayed for the strength to resist the temptation of that sweet mouth? Now he only prayed the strength of his ardour would not frighten her.
She had not expected his lips to be so soft. Nor had she expected the kiss to be so simple. Having come unnoticed upon Jane and Mr Bingley in amorous embrace before, Elizabeth knew there was more to it than this. What was he waiting for?
She opened her eyes. His face hovered above her, and she began to better understand all the times he had stared at her in their early acquaintance. It was not disapproval. It was instead a mixture of rapt admiration, perhaps fascination, as Charlotte had once conjectured, and restraint—though right now the former almost completely eclipsed the latter. Elizabeth very much wished him to surrender at last; she wished to finally feel the full force of what he had been hiding: his love for her.
He exhaled and pulled her closer. She went up on her toes and wound her arms around his neck. He lifted her off the ground and kissed her repeatedly, and not at all softly. She had no idea what she was doing. But Elizabeth was, as ever, eager to learn new skills and accomplishments, and he seemed to appreciate her efforts.
After some minutes spent in avid pursuit of accomplishment, he groaned. She felt it before she heard it, pressed as she was against his chest. Then he pulled his lips away. Her protest died in her throat, for those same lips were suddenly on the column of said throat. His harsh breath was hot against her skin as he kissed her and murmured words of love long repressed. Elizabeth threw her head back with a sigh. “Fitzwilliam…” She did not recognise her own voice.
He came back to her mouth and kissed her with less fervour than he had before. He lowered her to the ground, and she did not trust her legs to hold her upright, yet somehow they did. He took her face in his hands and devoured her features with eager eyes.
“How you tempt me, Elizabeth.”
“If you had done that on the balcony, I think we both could have avoided several days of heartache.”
He smiled. “I shall never hesitate to kiss you again.”
“I shall depend upon it.” She felt giddy at seeing his dimples again.
“May I escort you home now, Miss Eliz—”
They heard screaming—dreadful, terrified screaming. “That sounds like Lydia!”
Elizabeth ran for the road and, upon reaching it, turned to run towards the commotion.
Darcy caught her arm. “We will ride. It is faster.”
“I do not ride!” She was frantic to get to Lydia.
He grasped her shoulders. “Do you trust me?”
Looking up into his eyes, she did. “Yes.”
He lifted her onto John’s horse, and before she could panic, he swung himself up behind her. They galloped for perhaps half a mile before spying Darcy’s riderless horse on the road.
* * *
Half an hour earlier…
It took less than two dozen steps into the mire for Lydia to regret leaving the house. But her boots were quite covered in mud, so she kept running. She tried to keep her dress hem from getting muddied by hiking her skirts up indecently high, but it only slowed her down more. Lizzy always could run the fastest, but Lydia was not one to give up so easily. She followed her sister’s footprints in the mud. If Lydia could not catch up, she would go to Netherfield and confront Lizzy there. She plodded along, becoming angrier with every new mud splatter on her dress. This was all Elizabeth’s fault!
She began to recognise which sections of road were frozen, thus avoiding the deepest mud. She passed the lane for Lucas Lodge, where she noted another set of footprints.
Lydia heard voices up ahead, but she could not make out the words. She continued on, coming around a turn to discover her sister and Mr Darcy. He was kneeling in the mud! Lydia could not see Lizzy’s face, but h
is looked absolutely adoring.
“Elizabeth June Bennet, I love you. Nothing would make me happier than spending the rest of my days with you by my side. Will you do me the very great honour of becoming my wife?”
“I love you, Fitzwilliam Darcy, and I shall marry you!” Her voice trembled with great emotion.
He rose and swung Elizabeth around as they both laughed. Lydia had never seen Mr Darcy giddy, but that was the only way to describe him now. They looked truly happy. Lydia was glad they did not see her. She must look a perfect disaster, and she felt like one too. She could not let Lizzy see her like this: pitiably defeated.
Lydia turned and stormed towards Longbourn without seeing anything around her, her forgotten hem left to swing in the mud. How could Elizabeth do this to her own sister? How could she steal Mr Darcy away when she knew Lydia wanted him? How could she do this to John?
A friendly voice startled her. “Why such haste, Miss Lydia?” Mr Wickham stood on the road in front of her.
She curtseyed quickly. “Mr Wickham, good day. Why are you out on the road today?”
“I had some business with Mr Lucas, but he was not at home. I am glad to have happened upon you though, for now my trip was not wasted.”
Lydia barely heard his explanation or his flattery. She was too distracted. “Pardon my brevity, but I must go home. Good day, Mr Wickham.”
“You are quite distraught, Miss Lydia. I cannot leave you alone.” He fell into step beside her.
“Very well,” she huffed, “just be sure to keep up.”
“Whatever has you so troubled?” he asked with great sympathy.
Perhaps here was someone who would condole with her, for she doubted any of her sisters would. “My horrid sister Elizabeth has stolen—stolen!—him away. Oh, she is devious. They have been meeting secretly all this time and now…now he has asked her to marry him! She will get everything that should have been mine! But I shall never call her Mrs Darcy! Never!!”
Mr Wickham gripped her arm, dragging them both to a stop. “Are you telling me that Darcy and Miss Elizabeth are engaged to be married?”
“She just accepted his proposal. They were so involved in their scandalous behaviour that they did not know I was there to see them,” Lydia spat.
“Oh, Miss Lydia, I see now why you are distressed. You have done nothing but champion Darcy, and now he has betrayed you with your own sister. You poor, dear girl.”
At seeing the pity in his hazel eyes, Lydia blinked furiously to keep the tears from spilling out of hers. Anger had been a better feeling than this.
“I wish to go home now.” She turned and resumed walking.
Mr Wickham still had his hand on her arm. “You have been treated abominably ill. You cannot let them succeed in their betrayal!”
“But what can I do? Mr Darcy does as he pleases, and everyone will congratulate Lizzy on making such an excellent match.”
“I know a way we can stop the marriage.”
She stopped and peered at him. “What way is that?”
He glanced around them. “It is a delicate matter. Let us go somewhere a bit less exposed before I explain further.”
Lydia hesitated. Lizzy deserved to have her hopes dashed the way her own had been. She and Mr Darcy had been deceiving Lydia all this time! Mr Wickham was waiting for her decision, looking straight in her eyes. He had showed such sympathy, such kindness today. Perhaps she had been deceived about his character as well. But was she really prepared to break up the couple? They had looked very happy.
There was no harm in hearing Mr Wickham’s idea; she need not agree, after all. “I shall hear what you have to say.”
He led her away from the road into the woods to an area sheltered by some evergreen trees. He turned towards her and stood quite close. “This is private enough.”
She stepped back. “I should think so. Please explain your meaning. What is it you have to say, Mr Wickham?”
He smiled and took her hands. “I should very much like it if,” he paused and bit his lip. But, rather than finding it endearing, Lydia thought it feigned modesty. He continued, “If you would consent to elope. Think of the fun we could have together.”
“Ha! You must be joking.”
“I thought we had made a new start. I thought you were beginning to like me. I like you very much.”
His words were innocent enough, but something about him made Lydia wary. She wished to return to the road. “I…thank you for the sentiment, but your proposed solution would only create more problems. I must refuse.”
“That is a pity. But I have another option.”
His smile turned into a leer. He leaned towards her and put his hand on the back of her head. Lydia’s heart pounded in her chest. His lips came down upon hers roughly. She was too shocked to react. He thrust his tongue into her mouth—his tongue! She could think of nothing but his unpleasant taste and smell. Tobacco and…the way Kitty’s breath smelled in the morning before cleaning her teeth.
For some reason, the thought of Kitty snapped Lydia from her stupor, and she pushed against Wickham with all her might. It was enough to break his hold on her. She staggered backwards, wiping her mouth with the back of her arm. “What are you doing? Do not touch me again!”
He held out his hands, the very picture of innocence. “But this is how we stop Darcy’s marriage, Miss Lydia. Is that not what you wish to do?” All of the innocence left his expression.
Comprehension crashed upon her. “You are going to ruin my entire family by ruining…me! Then none of us will make respectable marriages.”
“Now you begin to see the advantages of my plan.”
He was upon her again, and she thrashed violently to get away, but he caught both her arms. His foul mouth hovered near hers as his body pressed against her. “Oh, Miss Lydia, you do not disappoint. I like a girl with spirit. Georgiana would have been far too timid. This will be a more satisfying way to avenge myself on Darcy. If you relax just a little, I promise we can both enjoy ourselves.”
Lydia drew breath to scream, but she barely got out a whimper before his mouth silenced her. She could not submit. She kept struggling, but he was too strong. She stopped resisting his kiss for a moment. He took advantage by shoving his tongue into her mouth. Lydia bit down as hard as she could and tasted blood. She brought her knee up. He doubled over in pain, groaning and swearing.
Lydia turned and stumbled in the direction of the road. She ran faster than she ever had before, screaming the whole way. A low branch whipped her across the face; her feet caught on roots and branches, not to mention the mud. But she did not stop. She could hear him behind her, uttering terrible, vulgar oaths. Lydia looked over her shoulder, grateful she did not see him. Suddenly she crashed into a solid torso and felt strong arms surround her. Oh God! How had he caught up to her? A desperate shriek rose in her throat.
The arms were shaking her. “Lydia! What is wrong?”
She looked up into alarmed green eyes. She stopped screaming and began crying into her rescuer’s chest. “John, John! Do not let him near me! Please!”
He held her away from him and examined her. They heard Mr Wickham approaching. “I will catch you, Miss Lydia,” he taunted.
Lydia let out a frantic sob and John’s face suddenly changed from confused alarm to rage. She had never seen him look so…fearsome. He pulled her against him, cradling her head to his chest. “He will never touch you again. Shh.”
She gripped his coat in her fists and sobbed like a child.
“Compose yourself a little, Liddy. Do not let him see you like this. I promise you have nothing to fear now.” She nodded and sniffed, wiping her face. “Stay behind me,” he said as he repositioned them.
Lydia peeked around John’s back. “Wickham, I suggest you stop where you are,” he said.
Wickham obeyed, a false smile on his face. “Lucas! You were just the man I was looking for when I ran into Miss Lydia.”
“You had better tell me what business you have with
me before I render you unable to speak.”
Wickham laughed nervously. “I wanted to give you some of what I owe you from our card game last night.”
“Keep it.” John moved towards Wickham, leaving Lydia feeling exposed.
Wickham held up his hands. “Lucas, I do not know what she told you, but you know how young gentlewomen are. They are very eager until their good breeding takes over, and then they begin to protest.” He pointed at Lydia, “You saw how she flirted with me the other day. Miss Lydia came into the woods with me for one purpose, I assure you.”
“You disgusting liar!” Lydia screeched, but she need not have bothered. Wickham was already falling in a heap into the mud. John stood over him with clenched fists.
Now that she was no longer frightened, the full measure of her wretched mistake struck Lydia. “How could I have been so stupid? He will tell everyone and I shall be ruined. I’ve ruined us all!” She sobbed, this time out of guilt. Poor Jane! Poor Lizzy! They had found good, honourable men who loved them, and Lydia had condemned them all to shame and misery. Even Kitty would lose Henry Long!
Wickham groaned and sat up. “We could have at least had some fun out of it. It will surely be the last time any man shows an interest in you. You should have enjoyed it.”
Lydia put her hands over her ears while John punched him in the face. Wickham collapsed onto the ground again. “That will keep the filthy lecher quiet so I can think.”
“It is no use,” she whispered with her head lowered.
John came to her and lifted her chin. “Lydia, I am sorry I must ask, but it may be…necessary. What did he do to you?”
She tried to look away, feeling shamed, but he held her chin. He looked so worried, not disapproving at all. “He tricked me into leaving the road with him. I…I ought to have known better, but I was so angry. Then he grabbed me and kissed me. He smelled ghastly. I tried to fight him but…he had my arms. He kissed me over and over, and then I bit him and ran away. I was so frightened, John!”
“That is everything that happened?”
“Is that not enough?” she cried.
