Elizabeth stared at her with incredulity. “Whatever do you mean by saying I am hypocritical? That is hardly a term I would associate with myself in any case, particularly in such an instance as this! And certainly, Lydia, you must know my loyalty must lie with preserving the respectability of my family, not with the utter degradation of it!”
“Lord!” Lydia snorted. “That is certainly rich coming from you, pretending to be so high and mighty now that you are a married woman. But admit it, Lizzy, you cannot, in all honesty, say you appreciated Mr. Collins’s bothersome interference in your amorous encounters in the garden with Mr. Darcy. I would have thought that, after all the scandalous things he told Sir William about your behavior before you were married, that you would have had far more compassion for me and my dear Wickham. Do not deny it, Lizzy, for everyone in Meryton knows you surrendered your virtue to Mr. Darcy long before you exchanged your vows with him in church.”
“How dare you, you insolent, ungrateful little—”
Elizabeth’s uncharacteristic shouts resonated throughout her father’s house, startling servants and sending members of the family rushing toward Lydia’s bedchamber with surprising alacrity. The first to reach them was Darcy. He threw open the door with a thud and entered the room with an expression of alarm. He was stunned to see his elegantly dressed wife lunging toward her youngest sister while Jane struggled to hold her at bay. Lydia was in the midst of hollering something especially appalling in reference to the size of Darcy’s fortune and Elizabeth’s willingness to bed him before they were married. Darcy’s jaw dropped open.
“I swear I shall strangle you for your vulgarity, Lydia!” Elizabeth yelled as she finally succeeded in shoving Jane out of the way. Lydia jumped back, and Darcy bolted forward, seizing his wife around her waist. With very little effort, he managed to carry her flailing form to the other side of the apartment. “Unhand me this instant, Fitzwilliam!” she commanded. “I must throttle my impudent sister before I regain my senses!”
Lydia stuck out her tongue and laughed. “Ha! I’d like to see you try, Lizzy!”
In an effort to escape, Elizabeth elbowed Darcy in the ribs, hard. Rather than gaining her freedom, however, she succeeded only in ensuring her continued captivity, for her husband responded to her act of aggression against his person by throwing her over his shoulder and carrying her, kicking and screaming, out of the room. They passed an incredulous Mr. Bennet on the stairs, who very wisely gave them a wide berth, his look of complete astonishment soon giving way to amusement as he watched the staid master of Pemberley struggle with his daughter.
Darcy stalked into the first room he encountered, which happened to be his father-in-law’s library, and slammed the door behind him. He turned the key and then pulled it from the lock. Only then did he release his wife. He deposited her onto a chair by the fire and stood before her, his breathing hard, his hands curled into fists upon his hips. “Pardon my language, madam, but what the hell was that display abovestairs?” he demanded. “You are the mistress of Pemberley and with child! You are not to conduct yourself in such a disgraceful manner!”
He began to pace, one hand raking through his hair. “For God’s sake, Elizabeth! What if you had injured yourself or the baby? And over what? Some ignorant piece of idle nonsense your sister spews forth from her accursed mouth?” He made an inarticulate sound of disgust and threw himself into the chair next to the one she was occupying. Rubbing his aching ribs, he growled, “You need not have taken your fury out on me, Mrs. Darcy. It was most underhanded of you, not to mention unsportsmanlike. I shall expect far more respectful treatment from you in the foreseeable future, madam, effective immediately.”
Elizabeth, her arms crossed over her breast, merely scowled before turning away her head. After several long minutes of uncomfortable silence, she ventured a glance at Darcy, who was still staring at her. Several more minutes passed in much the same manner before she finally forced herself to say, with some small degree of contrition, “I am sorry I injured you, Fitzwilliam. It was certainly not my intention. I hardly know what has come over me this morning, except to say I have simply not felt like my normal self as of late.” She expelled a breath of air and drummed her fingers upon the arm of the chair. “My aunt Gardiner mentioned to me that sometimes a woman may experience some inexplicable alterations in her mood and temperament when she is expecting a child.”
Rising from his chair, Darcy rolled his eyes and mumbled, “Apparently,” in a particularly bitter tone as he walked over to the nearest window, where he stared at the road for some time. Before long, there was a knock upon the door. Lost in his own contemplations and forgetting for the moment he was not in his study in Town, Darcy called out, “Come.”
Elizabeth raised a speculative brow.
He was startled back into reality, however, when he heard Mr. Bennet’s amused voice say from the other side of the door, “How gracious of you, Darcy, to grant me admittance to my own sanctuary! However, I currently find myself unable to take you up on your generosity, as you seem to have taken it upon yourself to lock me out of my library, sir!”
Darcy strode to the door, inserted the key, and turned the lock. His face was flushed by the time his father-in-law entered and appraised him with a look not dissimilar to the one Elizabeth was currently leveling at him. “Forgive me, sir. I seem to have forgotten myself. I hope my actions have not unduly offended you,” he mumbled, properly humbled.
Mr. Bennet raised a brow. “No, not at all, sir, not at all.” With a pointed look at his daughter, he said wryly, “I daresay you have quite a bit on your plate at the moment, Darcy. My Lizzy, when provoked, can truly be a fearsome sight, can she not?”
Darcy hazarded a glance at his wife, who appeared to be far from amused by her father’s comment. “Yes, sir,” he said dryly, “quite fearsome.” Then, with a flicker of a smile and a wink at Elizabeth, he said, “However, I believe she is now my Lizzy, and I would not give her back again for all her fearsome behavior this morning.”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes, and Mr. Bennet chuckled. “Wisely said, young man, wisely said.” He turned toward his daughter then, his manner grave. “Now, Mrs. Darcy, I can imagine I need not tell you how thoroughly disappointed I am with your behavior. I understand your fury with Lydia for behaving in such a scandalous manner with Mr. Wickham, my dear. Indeed, I would like nothing better than to get my hands on that scoundrel and throttle him to within an inch of his life; however, such conduct as you have shown this morning toward your sister, no matter what disgraceful bit of vulgarity she may have uttered in order to get a rise out of you, is quite unbefitting of a lady, especially a lady of your current standing in society. I do not doubt your husband has already communicated his displeasure on the subject, so I will not bore you with any further commentary, except to say I never want to see such an appalling display in my house again.”
“Yes, sir,” Elizabeth replied.
Mr. Bennet turned to his son-in-law. “The question of what is to be done remains. Lydia has certainly been compromised, though how thoroughly is still to be determined. In any case, I am afraid we have little choice. Wickham must be found and made to marry her. There is nothing else to be done.”
Elizabeth paled. “No, Papa!” she cried. “You cannot sentence poor Lydia to a life with that scoundrel! Do you not remember what Fitzwilliam told you he is capable of all those weeks ago? Or what he attempted only last night with me? Having such a man forever among us, bound to our family for all eternity, shall bring us nothing but hardship and wretchedness of the most acute kind. The honorable institution of matrimony will never inspire him to abandon his nefarious ways. If anything, Lydia’s silliness and ignorance will only serve as a catalyst for even greater acts of desperation and deplorability.” She leapt from her chair. “I will not have my excellent husband imposed upon by such a man, to have creditors come to him to settle Mr. Wickham’s debts, or irate fathers who wish restitution for his debts of honor with their daughters. Oh, thoughtless, thoughtless Lydia, to involve herself with such a man! No, Papa, I absolutely will not have my husband imposed upon any further by that barbarian!”