Chapter 24 Lady Elizabeth’s courage rises with every attempt to intimidate her. #3
“George, I am through with your filthy cheating and lying,” Mrs. Younge said hesitantly, 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 shall 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 shall 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 wretched woman!” Wickham said, his voice full of resentment. “You have betrayed me too many times! I shall 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 shall 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 towards 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, fretfully 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 way, Mrs. Bennet was sensible to the overwhelming feelings of helplessness that her daughter attempted to hide beneath a brave face.
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 Almack’s 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 excursion 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.
Darcy moved closer to Bennet and said in a low voice, “Should I have one of my men summon the authorities, or can I buy him a one-way ticket to America? It would save some trouble and make certain he does not charm his way out of gaol. I would really like to be rid of him sooner than later.”
“Two vicious attacks, Darcy. Two. On my daughter. I cannot abide impunity for this man. He deserves the worst, but I know what it feels like to fear a hanging. I only need to be assured he will not harm my family anymore.”
While Jenkins assisted Roberts in roughly hauling Wickham to his feet, Wickham wrenched around to look up at Darcy and Bennet as they shared their whispered conversation.
There was something about the two of them together that was settled deep in his recollection, but he could not put his finger on it.
His mind told him that he had some past knowledge of the two men, that he had been acquainted with both, but he did not recall why they looked so familiar standing side-by-side.
He looked at one, then the other, then repeated the action. Suddenly, the revelation came to him.
“Lord Shelton.”