Chapter Nine #3
She swallowed hard and wondered whether, if she broke into a run, she could clear the deserted path before he caught her.
Wickham noted the twitch in her eye. “Do not consider it, my dear.You will never make it,” he warned.
Neither of them moved as he continued his taunt.
“Obviously, your Mr. Darcy never told you I possess unique abilities. How easily you were deceived into thinking I was your lover!”
“Mr. Darcy and I are not lovers!” she protested, while she attempted to formulate a plan for escape.
“What do you call this rendezvous? There are remnants of a picnic lunch and a blanket in the other room. You call the man by his given name.” He dropped his arms to his sides and edged forward as he spoke.
Feeling the sudden stillness of the room, Elizabeth gingerly stepped back, but she never removed her eyes from his face. “Mr. Darcy gave me riding lessons. That was all there was between us.”
“If you say so.” He eyed her mockingly. “Yet you provide me with a unique opportunity, and I exist for such prospects. Whether you return his feelings or not, your Mr. Darcy has never shown a partiality to any woman until you. I make it my business to know Darcy’s weaknesses.
Other than his sister, he cares for no one.
He has never permitted himself such pleasure.
Then, by your own admission, he provides you riding lessons.
Moreover, you waltz on a private balcony.
He kisses you intimately and rescues you from unknown terrors.
You did like how I staged that one, did you not?
” he taunted. “I am assured Darcy was the one who placed the wreaths and the iron ornaments about your home. They only served to confirm my earlier suspicions.”
Elizabeth reached for the jeweled crucifix she wore at her neck.
“Did your lover present you with the Christian symbol to protect you from me?” Again, he inched closer, while Elizabeth countered his movement with her retreat.
“I purchased this crucifix,” she asserted.
“Do not mislead me, Miss Elizabeth. I am not so easily deceived. I noted Miss Darcy wears a similar one so I am aware of the source of your enchantment. Mr. Darcy hopes to protect you.” By now, Wickham was near enough to reach her if he so wished, but his hands remained at his sides.
“It will be a pleasure to take you from Darcy. It will be a grand revenge. He is the first to dare to challenge me, and I do not enjoy losing, Miss Elizabeth.”
She shivered. “Mr. Darcy is gone. He left Netherfield.” She hoped her words would convince Mr. Wickham to release her. “In fact, everyone at Netherfield fled your carnage.”
“My carnage?” He sounded amused. “Two females hardly rate as carnage.” He reached for her, lightly tracing a line along her jaw.
She wished to flinch from his touch, but she held steady.
“I must congratulate you. Darcy has grown stronger with you by his side. That display last evening would never have been possible six months prior. So, you see, my dear, I must stop your power over Darcy. It will kill him to know he left you to me. The fact will eat away at him. Eliminating you will stifle his resistance. Whether he is here to see your demise or not will make little difference. I will make certain he learns of your tragic end.”
She must do something or die at his hands.
A flash of humor crossed his expression as she broke away, shoving furniture into his path as she attempted an escape.
Just as she reached the door, grabbing it to pull it open, Wickham appeared behind her.
An iron grip caught her arm as his left hand shoved the door closed.
He pulled her back into him, breathing into her hair.
“Good,” he hissed, “I was afraid you might not fight me. I prefer my followers to be spirited.”
Elizabeth struggled and flailed, attempting to dislodge his hold, but Wickham’s hold simply tightened around her waist. “My, you are wildfire,” he said with a small laugh. “It is no wonder Darcy prefers you.”
She screamed as he half lifted, half dragged her towards the stairs.
Elizabeth scratched and fought, but her efforts were futile.
Wickham overpowered her. Halfway up the stairs, he halted suddenly and violently pulled her face within inches of his.
“I would give anything to see Darcy’s face when he discovers I took you in the bedroom of the manor house at Netherfield.
It will be a delightful revenge.” Wickham pulled her mouth to his and kissed her with such force he bruised her lips.
Elizabeth’s stomach turned in disgust. She strained against his unwelcome assault.
Sickened by his closeness, she spit in his face.
A gratified smile claimed his lips as he wiped the moisture from his cheek.
A vile bark of laughter signaled a backhand slap that forced her head to the side and split her lip. Blood seeped from the opening.
“The first course?” His hand turned her chin roughly, and he licked the blood from her mouth. “Thank you, my dear.”