One Thread Pulled: The Dance With Mr. Darcy (50 page)

“The key, I suppose, to understanding the heart of a Bennet appears to be that one must catch them when they are out of their wits.” Bingley said with a laugh.

“Perhaps you can laugh now, but it was not so very long ago when you were quite beside yourself about Miss Bennet's injuries.” Darcy frowned. “Miss Elizabeth is not yet out of danger, Charles. I beg you to be serious.”

“Not out of danger? Has her fever not yet broken?” Bingley's eyes were wide with astonishment.

“Not naturally broken Bingley. The fever will undoubtedly return. If she keeps her wits, the medicine from Mr. Jones will suffice, but if she loses touch again, the bath must be repeated as soon as possible. You should assign a dependable maid to assist Miss Bennet in the task.”

“Of course, Darcy.” Bingley nodded in agreement. “Sarah will do very well.”

“As pleasant as it may be to have Miss Bennet sleep on your shoulder, you know full well that this will not provide adequate rest. While her sister is still in any danger, you should have a chaise and some bedding brought to these rooms. We did the same for Miss Elizabeth when Miss Bennet was recovering, do you not recall?” Darcy chastised. “It will not do for both of them to be sick.”

Bingley nodded. “I should have thought of that. I will see to it at once.”

“I must go to London on urgent business, Bingley, and will be absent for several days. I have charged the colonel to see that Lady Catherine and her daughter are removed from Netherfield in my absence. This will free their rooms for both Miss Bennet and me.”

“Excellent! That is a capital plan!” Bingley clapped his hands. “With all due respect, your aunt does not make a pleasant houseguest. She has the servants in an uproar.”

“I have another favor to ask of you.” Darcy looked at his friend apprehensively. “I have reason to believe that it is unwise to leave my sister in London at this time. She is presently ensconced in my residence in town with her companion, but there is some unpleasant business afoot, which would harm her greatly. I would like to bring her to Netherfield with me when I return.”

“But, of course!” Bingley smiled happily. “We should be such a merry party with your sister among us!”

“This returns us to the matter of accommodations. I may yet require assistance from the colonel, so I do not wish to send him away prematurely, but my sister will require a room.”

“Oh yes. I never thought that eight rooms would be insufficient when I leased this estate. It seemed more than adequate at the time.” Charles eyebrows knitted in frustration.

“I have a suggestion, but your sister may not like it.” Darcy replied.

“My sister?” Bingley's eyebrows shot up in wonderment. “Of what do you speak?”

“Mr. and Mrs. Hurst are each in use of a bedchamber. If they would be willing to share, this would free a room for Georgiana.” Darcy said. “I fear your sister may resent the loss of her privacy.”

“It is a perfect solution, Darcy. My sisters are far too coddled. Such economies will do Louisa good. I will see that it is carried out before you return.” Bingley nodded.

Darcy grasped his friend by the shoulders, shaking him slightly. “Thank you, Bingley! I will return your hospitality come summer! You must visit Pemberley.”

Bingley nodded, a plan forming. “If I may extend that invitation to my sister Louisa in exchange for her cooperation, I believe she will endure Mr. Hurst’s snoring as long as need be!”

Darcy smiled. “By all means. Invite both of your sisters if that is what it takes to secure the comfort of my sister. Whatever it takes Bingley!”

Darcy strode to the door. “I must leave immediately to make it to London tonight. I will see you in a few days.”

~*~

Jane had found Elizabeth sleeping—a surprise, considering that Mr. Darcy had just left her bedside moments before. She was disappointed in this, for she longed to speak to her sister. She contented herself, instead, with tending to Elizabeth's comfort. When she had done all she knew to do, she noted that Elizabeth kept to one side of the bed, so Jane laid herself down on the other and quickly fell asleep.

~*~

Darcy went directly to Colonel Fitzwilliam's chambers, entering without knocking. Richard sat in a chair reading a book, one leg crossed on the other, nearly making a table for the book.

“Ah, Darcy.” Colonel Fitzwilliam looked up and smiled. “You neglected to call for your carriage. I took care of that for you. It should be at the door very soon.”

“Thank you.” Darcy nodded.

“Assuming that you will be at your London residence, it hardly seemed necessary to pack a wardrobe for you, but I had your valet put together a few of your personal effects in that bag.” He nodded toward a black valise on the table. “I can think of nothing else you need.”

“I thank you once again.” Darcy bowed slightly. “Have you any further thoughts on Wickham?”

“Aye.” Colonel Fitzwilliam scowled. “I have thought of no less than six bloodless ways to hasten his voyage to hell.”

“That is a last resort, Fitz. You are too eager to see the man die.” Darcy replied. “There must be another way.”

“Another way?” Fitzwilliam gripped his stubble-covered chin thoughtfully. “I am certain there is another way. Give me but a moment, and I will think of a seventh.” He counted off on his fingers as he spoke. “So far I have strangulation, poison, suffocation, a lightning strike, drowning and starvation.” He looked up at Darcy, squinting. “Here it comes—another stroke of genius is upon me ... I have it! Wickham will freeze to death! I will remove his coat and tie him up—leave him in a barn ... walk away. I would not even be near when he finally succumbs to the cold.”

“Richard, you cannot possibly entertain such a thought.” Darcy rolled his eyes. “We are gentlemen, you and I. We cannot lower ourselves so.”

“Have you a better idea?”

“I will speak with him first. I am hoping he will come to his senses, although I harbor no illusions about his character. He has turned out very bad!” Darcy shook his head. “I cannot imagine when his heart turned, but he has crossed all boundaries now. One thing is certain—he will receive no more money from me, as a matter of principle. Nor will he succeed in barring me from Miss Bennet. He has no right to interfere in our lives in such a way. As soon as I discover more about the letter, I will know what must be done. I must, in all of this, protect my sister from him!”

“Georgiana will not be safe from him until he is dead. Now if you would just let me...,” Fitzwilliam began.

“No!” Darcy stopped him. “Can you not see that intentional injury to Wickham is an affront to my father's memory? I may despise the man, but my father loved him. I will find a peaceful solution. I must!”

“If you change your mind cousin, you know I am happy to personally install him in Beelzebub's regiment. His uniform will even be free!” Fitzwilliam slapped his knee. “That is better than he deserves, you know.”

“If I change my mind, you will be the first to hear of it.” Darcy bowed, picked up the valise and as he went through the door, he turned. “In the meantime, you may focus your scheming on dealing with Aunt Catherine!”

“Is that it? Am I dismissed so easily?” The colonel smirked.

“No. There is one more thing. Keep that abominable Mr. Collins away from Elizabeth Bennet!” Darcy growled as he pulled the door closed behind him.

~*~

Lady Catherine was, at that very moment, in a rage. Darcy could hear her loudly railing about Anne's exposure to the fever as he slipped past the bedchambers occupied by his aunt and cousin. He felt a bit guilty about leaving them to Colonel Fitzwilliam, but he knew the colonel was competent and would manage his aunt far better than he himself could.

Fortunately for him, the carriage pulled up to the door at the very moment he descended the stairs. He boarded it and was away before even Caroline Bingley realized he was leaving.

Darcy's thoughts were on fire with all that pressed upon him. He wearied his mind with his concern for Georgiana, his rekindled hatred of Wickham, frustration that his aunt had imposed herself at Netherfield and the idea that Mr. Collins was still expecting to marry Elizabeth. He worried himself that Jane was left with only Charles Bingley to stand between Caroline and whatever mean agenda was on her mind. He pondered on how best to approach Mr. Wickham and wondered anew whether there was actually such a letter as Wickham had described. Part of him disbelieved that his sister was capable of all that Wickham claimed, but the other part knew how easily she was led. He felt a wave of nausea surge, just considering the possibilities he could encounter.

When he had exhausted all other avenues of thought, he permitted his mind to stray to Elizabeth. It was a strange realization that he had now seen this women at her very worst and that even in that moment, he found her beautiful beyond description. How very different that was from the first time he had seen her and had found her wanting. “
Unfathomable
,” he whispered to himself.

It was different too from their later encounters when he thought that he loved her. Now he realized he had he had only just truly crossed into that realm, where nothing else mattered but her comfort, her well-being—her happiness. He desperately wished that he could turn the carriage and return to her side, but he knew that he must forge ahead and deal with Wickham.

He hoped that she understood his intentions—that he had made himself sufficiently clear. He could not afford to propose to her formally until Wickham was no longer a threat, for she would be obligated to share such tidings with her family, and news of an engagement would most certainly reach Wickham.

He allowed himself to dwell on their final conversation. He had realized that she was drugged immediately, when he saw the dilation of her eyes as they shone in the candlelight. He felt some abhorrence that he had taken advantage of the situation, of not leaving when he knew that she might be too forthcoming. He had stayed, however, and learned what he needed to know. He set aside most of the shame he felt, for had he not spoken of what was in his heart to her as well?

Darcy turned his mind to the future. Elizabeth loved him—surely, she would accept his offer and they would marry as soon as it could be arranged. Would they spend Christmas together as master and mistress of Pemberley? Would Georgiana love Elizabeth as her new sister? Would Elizabeth come to love Pemberley as he did? Would she be happy so far away from her family? He knew the answers to his thoughts were all yes, and his mind soon drifted to more indecorous thoughts.

He pondered on their happy engagement and planned the times and places where he could steal a kiss or two before the wedding night—when he would finally take her to his bed and make her his wife. He thought tenderly and passionately about that night, when all that was forbidden to them now would be sanctioned by the church and in the eyes of God. He understood, perhaps for the first time in his life, why the marriage bed was a sacred place. In spite of his lusty thoughts—and he did suffer from those—he pondered on the great gift it was for this woman to entrust every part of herself to his care, and he vowed never to betray that trust.

Long gone were any thoughts of her lack of fortune, low connections, disapproval from his family and the improper behavior of hers. All he could think of now was the joy of sharing his own good fortune with his lovely Elizabeth, of taking her proudly on his arm and introducing his bride to all he knew and of filling the halls of Pemberley with children that bore a resemblance to them both.

Eventually, he dozed in the carriage, but the dreams that followed as he rocked and swayed on the finely appointed seat were but an extension of the happy thoughts he nurtured in his heart.

Chapter Forty-One

Intrigues, Lies & Deceptions

I
t had been many years since Anne de Bourgh had dared to defy her mother. Defiance, as defined by Lady Catherine de Bourgh, constituted any contradiction, any act causing her displeasure, and any behavior deemed rebellious or against the expectations of the great lady. Having chosen her path in defying her mother that morning, Anne felt a turn inside herself, a metamorphosis in her mind that both terrified her and freed her.

She had hoped to avoid any unpleasantness by returning to her room unnoticed, but her mother had been waiting in her chamber when she slipped into the room, and a great quarrel had occurred. Lady Catherine, astonished by her daughter's defiance, expressed her displeasure at Anne's treacherous betrayal, her disregard for her own health and her pathetic friendship with “that Bennet girl.” She then railed against the idea that Anne would play nursemaid to a person who was hardly worth her notice.