The Zephyr

Chapter 28

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

IN THE FLUSH OF A HARD-WON FIGHT

I did not harbour any illusions that Mr Darcy would be there the day after he had likely waited for me for the Lord only knows how long, but I drove briskly down the lanes and up the rise that led past the old mill, and soon my ponies slowed as they began to pull me to the top of Oakham Mount. My mind was mostly still, intensely so, for I felt such a strong pull of yearning to see a place where he had lately been, nothing could intrude upon my single-minded purpose.

As we rounded the last bend, I spurred June and July to the point of strain, and we flew upwards and over the rise to the small plateau at the top.

“You are here!” I cried.

“Did you doubt me?” he asked, stepping away from his horse as I pulled too hard on the reins, forcing my team into an ungraceful halt. He took the reins in one hand and moved to help me down—only I somehow fell directly into his arms!

“You are safe!” he exclaimed warmly .

I would have asked him tartly if he doubted me , but my reply was stifled by a kiss, then another and another.

“I do not know why I am kissing you,” I mumbled apologetically, when our need for air forced us minutely apart, though in all fairness, we were still shockingly entangled.

“Do you not?” he purred, and before I could answer, our lips were again consumed by their passion for one another. Mr Darcy then pulled away sufficiently to look down into my face.

“Do you truly not know? We have been in love for a very long time, Elizabeth,” he said. “What did you suppose we were about these many months, hmm?”

“I-I suppose…I do not rightly know. Well, I knew we were flirting a little.”

“A little!” he demanded. “I have never put more effort into an expedition of attraction!”

“But—”

“Hush. Admit you love me, and let us call this game fairly won, shall we?” He kissed me lightly on the lips as though sealing our fate.

“I do,” I said a little mournfully, “but how inconvenient!”

He chuckled in a most erotic manner before sweeping me around in an arc as though we were dancing, then by pressing a series of ever-deepening kisses upon me, he rendered me limp and witless. Eventually, he slowed the dangerous progression of our embraces and led me to an outcropping of boulders where I gratefully relieved my shaking knees of the work of holding me upright.

Sitting beside me, Mr Darcy then spoke a little tentatively. “Am I truly an inconvenience, dearest?”

“You know you are,” I replied with a contented sigh, “for I shall warrant you were greatly annoyed to have fallen in love with me , and in all fairness, I must be allowed to reciprocate.”

He put both arms around me and held me close as though he meant to keep me from flying away. “To be frank, I was not so much as annoyed as I was outraged. But I believe the word you meant to use is retaliate. ”

With this bit of raillery, Mr Darcy literally turned my head, so much so, that without thinking, I blurted out, “Oh my goodness, I do love you!”

“Of course you do,” he said, much pleased with himself. Leaning over to kiss me in a languidly tormenting manner, he added, “Who could not?”

“True. You are so humble as to endear yourself to everyone. Do you mean to cure me of pertness?”

“Most certainly. And you will broaden all my worldly opinions.”

“How tedious a couple we shall then become!”

“Exceedingly so,” he whispered in my ear. “Does the prospect thrill you as much as it does me?”

Our murmurs were interspersed with interludes of quiet, in which I surrendered my entire weight to the solidity of Mr Darcy’s chest. We blissfully surveyed the world below us as if we were king and queen of it all, and I told him of my escapade of distracting Mr Wickham so his wife could leave Longbourn. Throughout, we indulged in so many more kisses as to make my lips slightly tender—though no less eager.

At some point I expressed my bewilderment to have fallen into his arms in such an outrageous and unladylike fashion, to which Mr Darcy reasonably replied, “But it was understandable was it not? We have triumphed over a common enemy in something of a private war. Even hardened soldiers embrace in the moments following a hard-won fight.”

“I suppose you are right,” I remarked with the inflection of surprise. And, just then thinking of what had been a consuming curiosity before my first experience of kissing, I asked, “What has become of Mary King? Did you find her uncle?”

“My private secretary travelled to Liverpool and found him. He lives a little removed from the city, having leased out his townhouse to evade Wickham’s demands for money. But he did remain close enough to manage his affairs, and he was not so difficult to find if one has the means to pay for information, which Wickham did not. But I digress, for I can feel your impatience to know the most salient bit.”

“Tell me.”

“He refused to see his niece.”

“Oh no!”

“But he did agree to a modest support so long as she does not return to her husband.”

“In truth, she and her uncle were never close, and she was greatly intimidated by the prospect of meeting him after what she had done. Will he do nothing more for her, then?

“When pressed, he committed to releasing the deeds to her property directly to her when and if she is widowed.”

“Widowed? I had not thought that far into her future. I suppose death can liberate a woman so unhappily married.”

“She might be widowed far sooner than you think, Elizabeth. George Wickham has many enemies.” He had spoken almost too tenderly as he explained this brutal truth.

“I hesitate to ask…”

“All I shall tell you is that he will plague her no longer. Mrs Younge’s boarding house was confiscated by his debtors, for he had purchased it for her with a small inheritance upon his father’s passing. He had lost his mother when he was young, you see, and she somehow inveigled her way into his life. She was clever and corrupt and appealed to those same qualities in him.”

“What a horrible tangle! You did not have to?—”

“Dirty my hands? Did I not make you a promise? You had better learn to believe me.”

I grinned up into his overly serious face, and as though his responding smile had broken through against his will, he spoke again with a note of exasperation. “If you must know, I did not have to lift a finger. One word in the ear of the right person was sufficient, and my coachman willingly did the deed. As I said, Wickham has many enemies. Now, do not press me for the sordid details, for I would never tell you in any case”

“Oh, very well.”

“But I can tell you that if you must pout so adorably, I will be forced to kiss you again.”

I chuckled and nestled deeper into the nest I had made of his waistcoat.

“I have put you to so much trouble,” I murmured. “How far did you ride to meet me?”

“Oh, well, when I am lurking about the country in service to your every whim, I have rooms at the inn in Standon. My coach and riding horses are there, as are my valet, my coachman, and my groom.”

“I am sure the conditions you have endured have been savage,” I said with specious dismay.

“You mean to tease me, but I will own they are. Such is your power over me, I have, as you say, endured. I give you leave to gloat. ”

“On the contrary, I am quite humbled.”

He chuckled. “What next? The nunnery?”

We fell into a most pleasant silence that I eventually broke with yet another question.

“What of Mary King? Where is she?”

“She is living in a house in Lambton as Mrs Kingston—a recently widowed woman whose husband died while on business in Gibraltar.”

“I do not have to ask, for I already know your generosity provided her a place to live.”

“In her I saw my own sister. Georgiana's fate would have been just as hellish, even if he had not openly abused her.”

After a long silence, I dared to ask, “What weakness did he prey upon with Miss Darcy? In my sister’s case, it was her vanity. In Mary King’s, it was desperation for approval.”

“My darling whippet, in the many hours we have yet to spend together, we may speak of it. Just not now. I would rather marvel at the wonder that you are so comfortably pressed against my heart.”

“I would never leave if I could help it. But what time is it?”

Upon hearing that I had missed dinner and had already spent nearly three and a half hours away from home in what felt to be a quarter of an hour, I leapt to my feet. My poor ponies had stood patiently in their harnesses, and Mr Darcy’s dappled grey had wandered away trailing his reins behind him, returning only after his master’s repeated whistles.

Mr Darcy wheeled the Zephyr around and helped me up to the seat. Just as I was about to canter away, he said, “Wait. We have some practical matters to speak of yet. Might you meet me again? ”

“I doubt my mother would allow me to leave the house ever again after today,” I said, only half-joking.

“Meet me by the hay wain where the coach took up Mrs Kingston.”

I clasped his hand tightly, loath to leave yet anxious to be away. “I will be there tomorrow at eleven.”