Chapter 16
Two days after Charlotte’s engagement party, Elizabeth snuck out of the house before breakfast to go for a walk.
She usually took her walks later in the day, but with Mr. Darcy’s frequent visits, she had not exercised as much as she was used to.
So, on this day, she decided to take her walk well before the time he would likely call.
Her long stride and swift pace took her away from Longbourn at a good clip. Elizabeth reveled in the feeling of movement and the stark beauty of the leafless trees on her right and the empty fields on her left.
She thought mostly of Mr. Darcy. She found that she quite liked the man now.
Being exposed to his personality on a more frequent and more intimate basis had given her insight into his true personality that public meetings at parties or even balls never could have.
He was a very different person in private than he was in public.
Her mind flitted over the many times and ways he had expressed his feelings to her. She recalled the warmth in his eyes and the slight smile that graced his face when he looked at her. She recalled the stern expression he wore when he was hiding his emotions.
Without realizing it, a smile had bloomed on her face.
As all these thoughts and images drifted through her mind, Elizabeth realized that she had begun to return Mr. Darcy’s affection for her, that if she allowed herself to do so, she could be very much in love with the man.
She imagined a life lived with him. His wealth and lifestyle she couldn’t truly picture, but she could well imagine sitting with him at dinner every evening as they talked about their day or the news…or their children.
She imagined sitting in a parlor with a child in her lap while Mr. Darcy looked fondly upon both of them. A powerful feeling of yearning, a desire to bear children, arose in Elizabeth. She had never truly wished to do so before, but now the idea was entirely appealing.
The only thing that held her back from giving in to this dream, from accepting what Mr. Darcy had clearly offered multiple times, was Mr. Wickham’s warning about Mr. Darcy being a man without honor.
It was a difficult idea to accept. After all their discussions, some of them quite serious discussions about his life at Pemberley, Elizabeth simply could not believe Mr. Darcy would behave dishonestly.
Yet, she also could not bring herself to disbelieve Mr. Wickham, whose very countenance spoke of sincerity.
As she walked and pondered, she saw a man running towards her on the path. As he came closer, she realized it was Mr. Wickham.
He stopped in front of her and took a moment to catch his breath. “Miss Bennet,” he said as soon as he could. “Thank goodness you are here. There is a child trapped under a heavy tree branch just ahead. I have been running, looking for help, and you were the first I could find.”
“My goodness,” she said. “How can I help?”
“If it is not too much to ask, can you keep the child calm while I once again run to fetch help? I believe I can run a bit faster than you can.”
“Yes, you can certainly run faster and farther,” she said. “Just show me the way, then you can be off. I recommend heading for the blacksmith in the village, since he is the strongest man around, and he can help you find a cart for the child.”
“Wonderful,” he said. “I knew I could count on you as soon as I saw you. Come with me, and I will show you the path that the child took.”
The two of them set off together with Elizabeth almost jogging while Mr. Wickham strode forward on his long legs. When they reached a place where a path through the woods began, he said, “Just down this way, just beyond where you can see.”
“Thank you, Mr. Wickham. I will go ahead while you seek help,” she said and set off into the woods. She heard Mr. Wickham hurry away behind her, and she was confident he would fetch help as quickly as possible.
She walked quickly down the path, single-minded in her hurry to get to the child, ignoring the sounds of rustling leaves on the ground and the occasional snap of a small branch which indicated that not all the life in the woods was asleep for the winter.
She expected to see the poor child as she rounded a bend, but there was no one, only an abandoned cottage in the distance.
The cottage had once belonged to a man who kept these woods, both tending the trees and making sure there were plenty of game birds for the local hunters. No one had lived there for more than ten years, however.
Elizabeth stopped and peered around, but no matter which direction she looked, she could see no large fallen branch and no child.
She couldn’t even hear evidence of such a thing.
She began to turn around to head back toward Longbourn, perhaps to find Mr. Wickham to ask where the child was, but her movement was halted.
There was a momentary rustle of sound behind her. It was immediately followed by strong hands grabbing her from behind. One arm circled about her mid-section, pinning her arms in place, and the other arm went around her neck.
“You won’t be leaving just yet, Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth’s struggles ceased as the identity of the voice penetrated her mind. It couldn’t be. “Mr. Wickham,” she whispered.
“Now, you and I will go to that cottage over there. You will come quietly without resistance,” he said. “The more you resist, the more I will have to hurt you, and I’d really rather not have to hurt you. This will be much more pleasant for both of us if you are unharmed.”
Elizabeth felt as if she turned to ice. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t think. When he nudged her forward, she walked instinctively.
They entered the cottage, and Elizabeth looked numbly around.
There was a minimum of furniture and a few logs stacked by the fireplace.
Even so, it was clearly deserted. The entire place was filthy with ten years’ worth of dust caked over everything, and there was a damp musty smell as if mold had set into the walls.
Once they were inside, Mr. Wickham seemed to grow more confident.
At the same time, Elizabeth’s mind began to thaw.
As he closed the door behind them, he went from pinning her to his side to simply holding one wrist. It seemed as though he was confident in his ability to keep her from leaving.
She quickly searched the room with her eyes for something she could use as a weapon.
Her gaze landed on the poker which was leaning against the fireplace.
She couldn’t reach it, since it was halfway across the small room, and Mr. Wickham still had a grip on her, but she hoped that if she kept her wits about her, she could get closer to it.
Once the door was closed, he spun her around so she faced him and grasped her other wrist. Her feet were free, however, and for a moment, she thought about kicking him. She had no confidence she could disable him with a single kick, however, and once she tried he was likely to get nasty.
She decided the poker was still the better choice, if only she could get close enough to it.
She took a large step back.
“Now, now, Elizabeth,” he said in a low coaxing voice.
“There is no need to be afraid. I’ve heard that I have a talent for pleasing women.
Honestly, by the time we’re done, you will be thanking me.
Though you may not thank me that Darcy will then leave you.
You seem to have developed some sort of misguided affection for that wheyfaced, cocksure, dastard. ”
He leaned towards her. She didn’t know exactly what he was planning, but whatever it was would ruin her reputation and likely that of all her sisters as well.
She took another step back. She was only one step away from being able to reach the poker.
Mr. Wickham’s face went from frighteningly coaxing to purely terrifying and he squeezed her left wrist painfully tight as a warning. “Elizabeth, remember you are at my mercy. I would not wish to tie you up, but that doesn’t mean I won’t do it. I have rope at my waist. This is your last warning.”
Elizabeth heard him loud and clear. She only had one more chance.
As he bent towards her once again, she waited until his face was merely an inch from her own. Then she stepped back once more. As she did, she wrenched her right arm out of his grip which had loosened slightly as he had bent towards her.
With one motion, she reached for the poker which was just behind her and to the side. Then, not stopping, not pausing, she swung it up and over and brought it down on his head with all the momentum and force she had managed to muster.
He had tried to stop her, but his lust must have slowed his reflexes, for he had only just begun to move when the poker connected with his crown. The blow to his head knocked him immediately unconscious.
Elizabeth dropped the poker and desperately made her way to the door.
Once she reached it, she stopped to look behind her.
Blood was pooling from the wound on his head.
For one sickening moment, Elizabeth thought she might have killed him, but a moment later, she was relieved to see his chest rising and falling. He was still alive.
Elizabeth opened the door and stepped out into the woods. She paused and took a deep breath of fresh air. Then she set off down the path, back out to the road.
As she approached the road, she heard a pair of horses approach.
Elizabeth was certain she was filthy from all the dust in the cottage.
She suspected that at least her cloak was torn, possibly her gown as well.
She did not wish to be seen in her current state.
So, she hid behind a tree, poking her head out just enough to see who was riding by.
The horses slowed as they approached the little path into the woods. She heard a man’s voice say, “I saw him just near here.”
“Why would Wickham be hiding in the woods?” asked another voice.
Elizabeth immediately recognized the second voice. It was a voice she trusted with all her heart, though she did not know it until that moment. Without even thinking about whether it was wise, she stepped out from behind her tree.
The moment Mr. Darcy saw her, he jumped from his horse and cried out, “Elizabeth!” He ran toward her as his companion, Colonel Fitzwilliam, dismounted. “Elizabeth, are you hurt? Did Wickham hurt you?”
She opened her mouth to explain what had happened, but nothing came out. Instead, she began crying.
He pulled her into his arms and held her closely. His warmth loosened all the fear she had balled up and stuffed down, and she simply cried harder as her body shook. Her arms went around him, and she held onto him as if her life depended on it.
Vaguely, she was aware that as she was being held, Colonel Fitzwilliam tied up the horses and went to investigate the woods. When he returned, Elizabeth’s sobs had slowed.
“There is a cabin back there,” said the colonel. “Wickham is inside, unconscious from a head wound.”
“Elizabeth, can you tell me what happened?” asked Mr. Darcy.
Slowly, she explained what happened as well as she could, though she glossed over Mr. Wickham’s filthy words and insinuations. Even without them, his intentions were clear enough.
When she was done explaining, Mr. Darcy said, “I am truly glad you are safe and mostly unharmed, but I want you to know that even if he had succeeded in his plan, I would not have abandoned you.”
Elizabeth looked up into his warm brown eyes, the eyes that had told her in so many ways how much he loved her. “Thank you, Mr. Darcy,” she said. She did not know how else to express how she was feeling other than to say it again. “Thank you.” She then hugged him.
As his arms went around her once more, she felt soothed and safe. All would be well. She was sure of it.
“I hate to interrupt, but we need to determine what to do with that demon before he wakes up,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam. Once he had their attention, he said, “The way I see it, we can either finish the job here or we can turn him into his colonel.”
“You can’t kill him!” cried Elizabeth. “I cannot allow you to spill his blood on your hands. Besides, if any of this ever leaks, people will say that I killed him.”
“That is true,” said Mr. Darcy. “Though I can’t imagine how the information would get around, it’s not certain that we can keep this incident quiet.” He turned to Elizabeth. “If we take him to Colonel Forster, you will likely be required to testify against him. Do you think you can do that?”
Elizabeth looked up at Mr. Darcy. “Did you mean what you said, that you would not abandon me no matter what happened to me? If I testify, and the world believes I am ruined, will you leave me behind?”
“I will do everything in my power to see that everyone knows he did not touch you other than to grab your arms and wrists,” said Mr. Darcy.
“If I fail, and your reputation causes you and your family difficulty, I will do all in my power to take care of you all. And I could never leave you unless you expressly tell me to go.”
“Then I will testify, but only if it is necessary,” she said.