Chapter Seven #2
“You will do the responsible thing, Elizabeth, because what you do will affect your family and many others.” Darcy watched as realization crossed her features before he continued.
“Bingley plans a ball at Netherfield in less than a week. I cannot leave before then without severely disappointing him. Meanwhile, I will convince Colonel Forster to send Wickham to London for several days. After the ball, I will return to Pemberley. Hopefully, Wickham will follow. He is not likely to stay in the military, for it has too many regulations. I cannot imagine why he places himself in a situation where he is constantly watched and supervised.”
Elizabeth speculated, “He spoke of a desire to go to the front. He has no fear of dying, and he would have access to the bodies.”
Darcy considered her words. “As bizarre as it sounds your theory holds merit.”
Her jaw clenched as she studied him carefully. “Must you leave?”
“The preference I have shown you places you in danger. We said our flirtation would be for the memories.”
“For the memories,” she repeated softly.
Darcy leaned over her, lightly kissing her eyelids, which fluttered open like the wings of a hummingbird. “Ah, there you are,” she mumbled. “I attempted to stay awake until you arrived.”
“I am happy to just watch you sleep.” He kissed her temple before brushing a curl from her face.
Elizabeth rolled on her side and turned the coverlet back. “Come join me,” she invited.
Darcy slipped off his boots and crawled under the bed linens. He settled her into his arms. “Rest,” he said. “I am with you.”
Elizabeth wrapped her arms around him. She mumbled as she drifted back to sleep, “I adore our own cocoon while the rest of the world is suspended in sleep.”
“As do I, my Love.” Darcy kissed the top of her head.
As she reclaimed sleep, he prayed the night would last forever, but when the first rays of daylight broke through the draped window, he gently rolled Elizabeth from him.
“Wake, Vixen,” he whispered close to her ear.
“It is nearly light, and I must leave you.”
Elizabeth wrapped her arms around his neck, but she did not open her eyes. “It is so warm here under the blankets.” She kissed his cheek as she pulled him down to her. Darcy nuzzled her neckline playfully, and Elizabeth giggled.
Then he kissed her with all the passion he felt.
Darcy’s lips traveled from her face to her jaw and down her neck.
Her pulse hammered there, and an ancient hunger drew him to the spot.
His tongue circled it, teasing her. Elizabeth’s skin was pale in the light of the new dawn, and Darcy audibly groaned in an acknowledgment of what he most desired.
He could barely tear his gaze from where her blood beat under the skin.
He burned to possess her. At length, he snarled, “Sweetling, you are tempting, but I cannot maintain the spell forever.” Brushing his lips across hers, he whispered, “Before someone finds us together, we must part.” Then he rolled away from her, sitting on the edge of the bed to put on his boots.
Elizabeth crawled up on her knees behind him and slid her arms over his shoulders, her breath warm upon the side of his neck. “When will I see you again?”
“Unless danger is evident, you will not.” It hurt him to say the words, but Darcy knew she was in peril.
“A servant from Netherfield will bring the ornaments we spoke of as a gift from the Bingley household later. Among them will be something special for you—a crucifix. It will be like the one I presented to Georgiana. It is made of iron, something to which Wickham’s sect is most susceptible. Promise me you will always wear it.”
“I promise.” She withdrew to sit cross-legged behind him on the bed, but Darcy did not turn. Even without touching, he felt her.
“You have given me a taste of the life I could never know otherwise,” he confessed.
“I did nothing.”
He continued, “Do what you must do to protect yourself from Wickham.You must convince everyone you despise me.”
Elizabeth fought back tears. “Everyone but me,” she whispered softly to his back.
As Mr. Darcy predicted, George Wickham, along with Mr. Denny, made a late afternoon call on the Bennet household. Stepping into the room with her eldest sister, Elizabeth experienced nausea at Wickham’s bravado, but for Darcy’s sake, she hid her contempt behind the semblance of a smile.
“Mr. Wickham.” She offered her hand, and he kissed the back of it.
“Miss Elizabeth, we came at once to know of your well-being,” Wickham began. “It grieves me that I did not personally see you home. The horror of such a discovery!”
Elizabeth said through tight lips, “It was incomprehensible, but I am recovering.”
Mr. Denny took the seat to which Jane gestured. “Colonel Forster, Miss, is conducting a thorough investigation.”
“I hope the woman finds peace in that.” Elizabeth and Jane settled together on a settee.
“You were missed at Mrs. Philips’s gathering,” Denny continued.
“It was not appropriate,” Jane declared, “under the circumstances.”
Wickham wasted no time in mentioning the reason for his visit. “I understand, Miss Elizabeth, that Mr. Darcy served as your rescuer.”
“Mr. Darcy was a gentleman in aiding my sister,” Jane asserted.
Mr. Denny concurred, “I would expect nothing less from a man of Mr. Darcy’s lineage.”
“Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley found me when I was most distraught. They both protected me. Mr. Darcy was the first to reach me, so he became my comfort. I admit I clung to him unreasonably. I acted foolishly. Yet, he permitted me time to recuperate.”
Jane took Elizabeth’s hand in hers. “Lizzy, you were so overwrought; it was natural, and Mr. Darcy is a responsible young man.”
Elizabeth noted how Wickham’s eyes searched for the truth in their expressions.
With distaste for her task, Elizabeth spoke again, providing Wickham the opinion he sought.
“I am thankful for both Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy; and although my gratitude to both is of the highest order, I openly admit I would prefer not to be indebted to Mr. Darcy.”
“Elizabeth!” Jane protested.
“You did not see him while you were recuperating at Netherfield, Jane,” Elizabeth declared. Having watched Wickham take the bait, she continued, “The man leaves Hertfordshire soon, and I will celebrate his departure. He has repeatedly shown himself as superior, and I shall be happy to see him go.”
“You know how I feel about Mr. Darcy,” Wickham interjected. “He does not belong in civilized company.”
Jane thought to object, but Elizabeth cut off her sister’s words by ordering tea for the group. When it arrived, she changed the subject to their aunt’s social the previous evening. Darcy warned her of “protesting too much.”
“Do not harp on my faults,” he had warned.
The visit lasted less than a half hour, but it felt like a lifetime. When the gentlemen stood to leave, relief arrived. “The colonel asked me to deliver the paperwork for the unit to London. I absent myself with regret, Miss Elizabeth,” said Wickham.
“Will you not be at Mr. Bingley’s ball?” Jane inquired with interest, thinking Elizabeth might find Mr. Wickham appealing.
“I cannot say, Miss Bennet. The colonel knows I am well familiar with London. He has several tasks for me to complete.”
Elizabeth could not make herself say the words she knew she should offer him.
All she could manage was, “Your absence will be felt, Mr. Wickham.” It was the truth, and such was better than a lie.
Wickham’s absence meant she might spend a few minutes with Darcy before he departed Hertfordshire and her forever.
As he promised, Darcy refused to call on Elizabeth, even when Bingley encouraged him to do otherwise.
“I will not see Miss Elizabeth. It would appear as if I courted the woman.” He made certain the garlands arrived in the afternoon.
Darcy knew Elizabeth would eagerly open the packages, and she would know disappointment when she found no necklace.
He promised to send it, but when the time came, he withdrew.
He feared another might see it. He could not put Elizabeth in such a position.
Instead, he delivered it. Darcy sent the same trusted footman to the nearest township to find a competent jeweler and mercantile.
He removed the crucifix he wore and gave it to the man with orders for the jeweler to duplicate it, creating a new one for Darcy.
He would risk being without one for a few hours to protect Elizabeth.
Then he ordered an array of loose diamonds and emeralds set into the metal.
The footman paid the merchant well to complete the work in a few precious hours.
In addition, Darcy’s orders included a new fur-lined hooded cloak.
In the middle of the night, he paid her a visit.
This time, he did not wake Elizabeth. He stood in the center of the room, staring down at her.
When she rolled over and snuggled into a pillow, he smiled with remembrance of her clinging to him.
“You are beautiful, Vixen,” he murmured.
“Now, permit me to practice my skills.” He set the package holding the cloak and the necklace on the end of her bed, and then Darcy turned slowly in place three times, extending his arms level to his shoulders.