Elizabeth’s stomach turned. She strained against him, releasing
“The first course?” His hand turned her chin roughly, and he licked the blood from her mouth.“Thank you, my dear.”Wickham started forward again, dragging her behind him.
CHAPTER 10
Darcy sat with the Bingleys at the posting inn. Caroline Bingley needed her refreshment, although they had traveled only a few miles from her brother’s estate. At this rate, they might never reach London.The woman who wanted to be as far from Netherfield as humanly possible only a few hours earlier now seemed content to drink her tea and command the servants to indulge her every whim. All Darcy heard from the time they left Meryton was how Charles and Georgiana would make an eminently suitable match. Louisa Hurst had traveled with her husband to his Hampshire estate, so it was just the three of them.
Bingley miserably shifted his weight with each of his sister’s remarks.As much as Darcy admired Bingley, he would hope to find a different sort of match for Georgiana. He had considered a match between the genial Charles Bingley and his very shy sister when he first met the man, but within the hour of meeting, Darcy had abandoned those hopes. Although real affection existed between his best friend and his sister, Darcy knew they could never be happy together—and he wanted both of them to be happy. Charles had glowed with love when he met Jane Bennet; Darcy hoped the man would resist his sister’s manipulations and find true love.
Thoughts of Charles and Jane Bennet brought Darcy’s thoughts back to Elizabeth. He wondered how she had reacted when she saw Ceres on her lawn. Elizabeth’s eyes had danced with excitement; of that he was sure. A secret smile formed with the thought of her riding the horse he had given her and wearing the habit he had purchased for her.
At first, when the family livery passed by him, Darcy did not see it because Elizabeth’s countenance consumed his consciousness, but as the man took the food the innkeeper gave him and neared
“Lucas!” Darcy called as the man strode past.
Lucas Stamson skidded to a halt upon hearing his employer’s voice. “Mr. Darcy,” he said as he turned towards the sound. “I was on my way to find you, Sir. I stopped to change horses because the other one took on a stone.”
Darcy approached him. “What is wrong, Lucas? Is something the matter with Miss Darcy?”
“No…no, Sir. Miss Darcy was well when I left her, Sir.”
Darcy allowed himself to breathe again.“Then what is it, Lucas? Why are you here?”
The groomsman searched in the pouch he carried around his neck and drew out a note. “Miss Darcy bid me bring this to you with the utmost speed, Sir.”
Darcy snatched the letter from the man’s outstretched hand. “Thank you, Lucas. I will be with you in a moment.”
“Yes, Mr. Darcy.” The man retreated into the shadows of the public room, while Darcy made his way to a window to use the natural light to read.
Fitzwilliam,
Mrs.Annesley woke this morning in a dreadful agitation, and she begged me to convey what she knows to you.As she was able to see George Wickham’s attack on me, my faithful companion’s Sight has shown a new attack. I do not know of whom she speaks or the place, but Mrs.Annesley is sure you will comprehend what eludes me.
Mrs.Annesley describes an abandoned house, although it was once a fine home.Within the house, she sees a forsaken picnic basket, of all things.Yet more important, Mr. Wickham is there with a petite, auburn-haired woman.
Save her, Fitzwilliam. Mrs.Annesley believes the woman is the answer to our family’s problems; she is your future. I hope that this
God be with you, Brother,
Georgiana
Darcy’s throat tightened and he gasped for air. Elizabeth! Could Wickham have Elizabeth? I abandoned her! he chastised himself. “Lucas!” he shouted.
“Yes, Mr. Darcy.”The servant appeared immediately.
“Did you order a fresh horse?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Get it, man. I need to leave at once.”The servant scrambled to do his bidding. Darcy’s thoughts raced as he tried to make sense of what he needed to do. Mrs. Annesley had saved Georgiana; with her warning and with luck, he would reach Elizabeth in time. Impatient for action, he returned to the table. “Bingley, a situation has arisen that I must attend to. Lucas will ride back to London with you.”
“Of course, Darcy.” Bingley hastened to his feet. “May I help somehow?”
Darcy headed towards the door, consumed by his need to reach Elizabeth. “It is a family matter,” he told Bingley. “I must go.”Then he bounded from the room to find the waiting groomsman.“Ride back to London with Mr. Bingley,” he ordered as he mounted, and then Darcy rode off towards Hertfordshire. He did not care that both Bingley and Caroline noted the direction he took. Neither of them spoke of it, however, as they boarded Bingley’s chaise and four.
Darcy rode low in the saddle, trying to speed his way back to her. His senses told him Elizabeth was indeed in dire straits. He reproached himself for leaving, but he never broke stride. He prayed for God to protect her, but he never broke stride. He cursed the Fate that placed her in danger, but he never broke stride.When he rode onto the graveled pathway leading to the manor house, the horse was lathered in foam. Darcy slid from the saddle, hurriedly tied his horse to a post, and ran to the house.
He burst through the front door, begging not to be too late.
A thump—a muffled sound from above—told him where she was. Leaping over the lower banister, he bolted up the stairs. Breathlessly, he swung the door open.As it banged against the wall, a terrible drama opened up in front of him. Elizabeth’s limbs—her arms and her legs—were tied to the four posts of the bed. She was stripped down to her chemise—her face rigid with terror from what she experienced at Wickham’s hands. Her shining eyes, misted with tears, flooded his heart with anguish.Wickham himself sat in a wing chair next to the bed. He caressed Elizabeth’s arm lightly with his fingertips.
“Darcy? You came back.” Wickham’s smile increased by the moment; the changing scenario pleased him. “It is as I said, Miss Elizabeth; he cares for you.”
Tears streamed from Elizabeth’s eyes.“I am sorry, Fitzwilliam.”A slight shake of his head told her he did not blame her; Darcy blamed only himself.
“Leave her be, Wickham; you seek me.” Darcy’s eyes searched the room, trying to find a way to save Elizabeth.
Wickham stood casually; to taunt Darcy, he ran a fingertip along Elizabeth’s breasts. “Of course, I want you, Darcy, but not enough to give up Miss Elizabeth. You would gladly die in her stead, but that is just it; you would gladly die. In fact, you want to die to end this. However, when I kill the woman you love, that will hurt you.”
Wickham spoke the truth. Darcy would happily sacrifice himself to save Elizabeth.With no other choice and without preamble, Darcy grasped the sword tightly and charged the apparition lurking beside the bed. Barely two steps into the room, a jolt of gale force winds hit his chest, sending his body flying through the air like a rag doll—and like a rag doll, Darcy slithered down the wall in apparent defeat.The rapier skidded away towards the bed.
“Close your eyes, Elizabeth,” he ordered as he staggered to his feet. Darcy brought his arms out to his sides and pivoted to bring forth the power within him; Wickham was strong, but Darcy would not die until Elizabeth was free. It was suicide to attack Wickham; however, he vowed to end this, and end it he would. His death would mean life for Elizabeth. She depended on him; and her determination—her passion—made him strong. Like Wickham’s wind, Darcy’s light held an energy of its own—potent and formidable. It bent Wickham backwards, knocking him from his feet and momentarily blinding him with its power.