Chapter 28
Darcy stepped into the tack room in the stable and nodded approvingly. His footmen John and Jacob were standing between Wickham and the door, while the prisoner himself was seated on his cot wolfing down a simple meal of bread and cheese, washed down with a flask of water. Jacob held a rope in one large hand, and both men were alert to possible escape attempts.
“Is all in readiness?” Colonel Fitzwilliam asked from his position behind Wickham.
“Yes,” Darcy assured him. “Bingley’s carriage has been hitched to the horses and I have the letters with instructions to the staff at Darcy House. They will provide you with whatever assistance you need.”
“Excellent! Well, Wickham, it appears it is time for us to depart fair Hertfordshire together. John, Jacob, bind his hands and gag him.”
Wickham flinched, “Surely that is not necessary!”
“Nonsense, of course it is! I cannot have you yelling out of the carriage window, after all! Now I do urge you not to resist. I understand that Darcy’s men here do not look upon you with charity; it would be a great pity if you were injured more.”
The twins advanced upon Wickham menacingly and the former militia lieutenant, realizing that resistance was indeed futile, submitted to being bound and gagged. The footmen then pulled him to his feet and walked him out of the tack room and into the waiting carriage, where he was pushed into the backward facing seat farthest away from the door. John sat down next to the prisoner and Jacob across from him. There would be no escape for George Wickham.
“Thank you again,” Darcy said sincerely, reaching out to shake his cousin’s hand.
“I would not have missed this for the world, Darcy, and will sleep far easier with the knowledge that George Wickham is no longer a threat to society. I will send you a suitably obscure letter when the man has been dealt with appropriately. Now, if a soldier may make a suggestion to his wealthy cousin, do not delay in claiming your lady. Miss Elizabeth Bennet must be remarkable indeed if she has attracted your attention.”
Darcy felt his face flame, “Miss Elizabeth is absolutely incredible – warm, kind, gracious, intelligent and charming. But she is not well connected. Do I not owe it to Georgiana to marry a woman who can assist her in London society?”
“What is my mother for if not to assist in such a task?” the colonel inquired. “Come, Darcy, I know you well; you would despise a marriage of convenience. Georgiana will do far better with a good-hearted woman as a sister than if you tie yourself to one of those society harpies. Of course, I assume Georgiana and the lady get on well together?”
A most unaccustomed smile lit up his cousin’s face, “Miss Elizabeth had my sister chatting happily within a few minutes of their acquaintance. It was something of a miracle.”
“I believe that is your answer then, Darcy.”
Darcy stared into his cousin’s face and nodded slowly, “You are correct, Richard. Thank you.”
The man nodded in approval and leaped into the carriage, and Darcy shut the door behind him.
“Drive on,” Darcy ordered the coachman, who was waiting patiently behind the horses.
“Yes, sir,” Bingley’s man replied.
The carriage jerked into motion, and Darcy watched as it sped down the side lane toward the main road, which would carry both prisoner and guards back to London.
He felt his body relax for the first time since Elizabeth’s attack. Colonel Fitzwilliam was a competent man. Wickham would never plague the Darcy family again.
He nodded at the two stable boys as they quietly cleaned out the room from Wickham’s short term imprisonment, “Thank you both. Please accept my gratitude for your silence and your assistance.”
Darcy held out a coin to each youth, which they accepted with enthusiasm. Then he strolled over to Maxwell’s kennel and leaned over to pat the dog on the head, “You are a very good dog, sir. A very good dog indeed.”
Maxwell jumped up and down and whined, obviously desirous of joining him in a frolic, but Darcy shook his head, “I apologize, Maxwell, but I must return to the house. I will come back later with a choice bit of meat, I promise.”
The dog cocked his head, causing one floppy ear to flip beguilingly, then sighed and lay down again.
“Good boy,” Darcy repeated affectionately, and left the barn to begin the trek back to the house. His ankle was hurting more today, no doubt irritated by his decision to leap off of Galileo and pummel Wickham. Perhaps he should use crutches again for the rest of the day, just to allow his injured limb to rest ...
That thought trailed off as he turned a corner to be confronted with a familiar-looking carriage standing in front of Netherfield Hall. The man sitting behind the horses doffed his hat at the gentlemen, “Good day, Mr. Darcy.”
Darcy’s heart lurched within him, “Is Lady Catherine inside, Williams?”
“Yes, sir.”
/
“Sit by the fire, Miss Elizabeth,” Georgiana instructed, pushing the chair a little closer to the leaping flames. “You must not take a chill.”
Elizabeth obediently took her seat and smiled gratefully at the young gentlewoman, “Thank you. I do hope you will not worry about me excessively. I feel much better today and Jane will tell you that I am made of hearty stock.”
“She is,” Jane agreed, “but I also agree with Miss Darcy that you must be very cautious today, no matter how little you relish it. Charles and I are to be married in only two days, and we want you entirely healthy for the ceremony.”
Elizabeth lifted a cautious hand to touch the knot on her head, “I am quite sure I can attend the wedding, though my forehead may excite some comments.”
Georgiana narrowed her eyes thoughtfully, “If you are interested, my maid Jenny can help you in changing your hair style to hide the lump.”
“Oh, I would not dream of stealing your maid’s time!”
“Nonsense, Miss Elizabeth. Jenny enjoys arranging hair, and you have such lovely locks. Please do allow her to assist you tomorrow!”
The door to the sitting room opened, and Bingley’s butler stepped in, his usually impassive face displaying unease, “Lady Catherine de Bourgh.”
Georgiana gasped in astonishment and distress as a middle aged lady, tall and large, her face twisted in a ferocious scowl, stalked into the room and cast a disparaging look about her.
“Lady Catherine!” Miss Darcy squeaked in astonishment as all four ladies rose to their feet. “This is entirely unexpected!”
“Georgiana,” the lady said angrily, “Why are you here and not in London?”
“Mr. Bingley invited me here to spend the Christmas holidays with Fitzwilliam,” the girl admitted meekly, hunching slightly in the presence of her intimidating aunt.
“I presume one of you is the lady of the house?” the woman continued imperiously, glaring at the Bennets and Mrs. Annesley.
“No, Madam,” Jane said quietly. “Mrs. Hurst is consulting with the housekeeper at the moment.”
Lady Catherine stared down her nose at them before turning to her niece, “Georgiana, introduce me to your companions.”
Georgiana flushed uncomfortably, “Lady Catherine, my companion Mrs. Annesley, Miss Bennet, soon to be married to Mr. Bingley, and her younger sister, Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”
The lady’s already high color turned nearly purple as her brown eyes bugged in outrage, “Miss Elizabeth Bennet? How dare you breathe the same air as my niece! Where is Darcy, Georgiana! I will have much to say about his decision to allow this trollop ...”
“You will stop speaking now, Lady Catherine!” Darcy snapped, nearly running into the room with Bingley at his heels. “Stop immediately!”
Georgiana heaved out a deep sigh of relief and turned toward Elizabeth, who wore a confused expression, “Miss Elizabeth, please do sit down. You ought not to be standing after your accident.”
“Darcy, I insist that you escort Georgiana, her companion, and Miss Bennet away from this room immediately,” Catherine de Bourgh ordered. “I must speak privately with this ... this Elizabeth Bennet alone.”
“Miss Elizabeth, Georgiana is correct. Please sit down. Lady Catherine, you will temper your tone and words immediately. You have no right to storm in here and give outrageous commands.”
“Have you forgotten who I am? I am Lady Catherine de Bourgh, daughter of an earl, and your aunt! You will obey me!”
Darcy took a deep breath, struggling to control his ire, “I most certainly will not. I am eight and twenty and my own man. Come, let us retire to another room to discuss your most unexpected journey to Netherfield Hall.”
“I will not,” the lady responded furiously. “Do you imagine I will permit a murderess to remain within the same room as my precious niece?”
There were a series of horrified gasps at this statement, and Darcy shot a bewildered look on Miss Elizabeth, who looked stunned and angry.
“Lady Catherine, again, you must temper your words!” he directed. “What is this nonsense you are spouting? No one has been murdered.”
“That merely shows how you have been befuddled and bewitched by this woman. I have it on very good authority that Mr. Collins, my rector, was murdered by this woman or, perhaps, her father.”
Darcy stared at his aunt in dismay, “That is absolute nonsense! Where did you hear such a terrible thing?”
The lady shrugged, “It does not matter; suffice it to say that I trust my source. Is it not true that Mr. Collins supposedly died after being thrown from a horse?”
“Yes,” Darcy said, “though there is no ‘supposed’ about it. He foolishly insisted in riding a young filly who is a difficult ride and she threw him. Most regrettably, he hit his head on a rock and died some hours later.”
“I do not believe it,” Lady Catherine snarled. “I maintain that the Bennets murdered my rector to break the entail on Longbourn, and now this Elizabeth Bennet, whom I will not call a lady, has sunk her claws into you, Darcy. It shall not be! Shall the shades of Pemberley be polluted by a mistress of no fortune and base connections whose family harbors a killer?”
There was a genuine squawk from Georgiana and Darcy turned his attention on his sister, whose mouth hung open to reveal pearly teeth.
“Mrs. Annesley, kindly escort Miss Darcy to the drawing room,” he ordered. Georgiana rose to her feet with alacrity and fled the room with her companion in pursuit.
Darcy turned to the other three individuals still remaining, “Bingley, Miss Bennet, would you be willing to help Miss Elizabeth upstairs to her room? I will not permit her to be abused by Lady Catherine, especially given her fragile health.”
Elizabeth scowled, “No, Mr. Darcy, I will not leave given that your aunt has hurled a most dreadful accusation against my family in general, and the most ridiculous charge against me in particular. Lady Catherine, our cousin’s death was a tragic accident, and if your source told you that Mr. Darcy and I are courting or engaged, he is lying about that as well. There is nothing between me and your nephew.”
Darcy fought to keep his face neutral. Was it possible that Miss Elizabeth did not know of his love for her?
“Is this true, Darcy?” his aunt demanded suspiciously.
“Miss Elizabeth and I are neither courting nor engaged,” he informed her through tight lips.
The woman relaxed significantly, obviously far more worried about Miss Elizabeth as the potential mistress of Pemberley than that she might be a secret killer.
“Very good, Darcy. And will you promise me to never enter into such an engagement with Miss Elizabeth Bennet?”
Darcy straightened his spine and glared down at the woman, “I will make no promise of the kind.”
There was yet another communal gasp, and Darcy turned a rueful gaze on the woman who had stolen his heart. She was flushing and her brown eyes seemed even finer than usual.
“Mr. Darcy?” she asked in wonder.
He found himself on his knee before her, “Miss Elizabeth, I can no longer conceal my ardent feelings of love and adoration toward you. You are a most beautiful lady, but you are also brave, diligent and intelligent. I had no intention of ... of proposing under such bizarre circumstances, but Lady Catherine’s interference has prompted this most unusual scene. Miss Elizabeth Bennet, will you accept my hand in marriage?”