Page 4

Bennet Carriage

On the Way to Longbourn

A Few Minutes Later

The night was a cold one, but the inhabitants of the Bennet carriage were pleasantly warm. To Elizabeth’s profound relief, Mr. Bennet and Mr. Collins had taken a gig to and from the party, so at least she was not forced to listen to their clergyman cousin pontificating about the events of the evening.

“My dear Jane!” Mrs. Bennet cried out. “I am certain that Mr. Bingley will be offering for you within the week! Mark my words, he is completely in love with you! You will be mistress of Netherfield at last!”

“If Mr. Bingley does marry you, you must promise to have a great many balls, Jane,” Lydia exclaimed. “I declare I have never had so much fun!”

“It was wonderful,” Kitty said, giggling loudly, and Elizabeth, seated next to her second youngest sister, winced as the girl swayed heavily into her as the carriage turned a corner. It was obvious that both Kitty and Lydia had imbibed far too much punch and were thus acting even more foolishly than usual.

It was regrettable, but Elizabeth could not condemn her sisters, given that she had almost been caught up in a horrific scandal of her own. Even now, a full hour after escaping the library, she was trembling slightly as she contemplated how closely she and her family had come to complete and utter ruin.

Even worse than that was the knowledge that George Wickham was to blame for the near catastrophe. She was no fool, even if she had acted like one with regard to Mr. Darcy and Lieutenant Wickham, and there was no mistaking that look of shocked surprise on Wickham’s face when she approached him in the ball room after the Boulanger. He had been completely stunned at her appearance, and disappointed, and it was obvious that it was he who had locked her and Mr. Darcy in the library.

As to why? Well, Wickham must have overheard some of the conversation about the Kympton living and decided to punish her, or Darcy, or both, by forcing a compromise.

It was outrageous, and dreadful, and cruel, and she could hardly believe it, and yet, it was true. Mr. Wickham was a genuine villain who had been lying to her from the start, and she was an idiot for believing him .

At least she had managed to climb down the latticework to avoid the horrible fate of becoming Mrs. Darcy! It was, she supposed, vaguely honorable of the dour, unpleasant master of Pemberley to offer marriage, but to be tied to a man who despised her family? Who had insulted her beauty the day they first laid eyes on one another and had treated her with cool disapprobation ever since? Who would doubtless lord his superiority over her for the rest of her days if they were forced to wed?

She shuddered and lifted a handkerchief to dry her slightly wet eyes. It would have been a fate worse than death, and she thanked the Lord above for that trellis.

***

Library

Netherfield Hall

Three Hours Past Midnight

Fitzwilliam Darcy sat in front of the fire, his gaze fixed on the flames dancing along the logs.

It had been more than two hours since Elizabeth Bennet had escaped the library by climbing down the trellis, risking limb and life, and even now, with the great mansion largely silent, he had not yet been discovered by either servant or friend.

That was, perhaps, no tremendous surprise. The distant sound of music had only ended some forty minutes previously, followed by the sound of carriages leaving, all of them, of course, on the other side of the mansion, so he had not seen anyone who could help him escape.

Nor did he wish to call out the window for assistance, which would be embarrassing. And in any case, he had a great deal to think about.

What was it she had said as she bravely, courageously, and recklessly climbed down more than twenty feet from the window?

“ I dislike you as much as you dislike me, and a marriage between us would be a complete and utter disaster! I would sooner marry my stupid cousin, Mr. Collins, than marry you!”

Given the behavior of Mr. Collins, that was an insult indeed, and he was still reeling from the shock of it all.

She disliked him?

She thought he disliked her , when nothing could be farther than the truth? He was, he confessed to himself, more than a little in love with her and entirely enchanted by her entrancing manners and arch arguments.

It was completely bewildering, and for a few minutes, he pondered whether the lady was actually foolish under that enchanting, clever, handsome exterior.

But no, she was most definitely not stupid, not at all. Furthermore, he had not been aware that she had overheard his ridiculous and rude insult at the Meryton Assembly. With his new understanding of that first unfortunate encounter, he now realized that what he thought was a captivating flirtation was, in fact, her way of expressing her disapproval in an entirely courteous way.

He moaned just as one of the logs in the fireplace broke in half, spilling out a shower of sparks.

He had, he confessed to himself, been quite pleased at being locked in the library with Miss Elizabeth, because he genuinely wanted to marry her, and by honor he would have married her, and he would have felt noble while getting exactly what he wanted.

But instead of being grateful, or happy, or relieved, she had climbed out of a window, putting her very life in danger, to escape a union to him .

There was a soft sound from his right, and he turned and watched as the knob quivered slightly. He rose and called, “Is someone out there?”

“Mr. Darcy?” the familiar voice of his valet said. “Sir, are you well?”

“I am well enough, but I am locked in here,” he replied. “Is there a key out there, perchance?”

There was a moment of silence, and then Percy said, “I cannot see one, sir. I will need to fetch some servants to assist in getting in.”

“Thank you,” he said.

Another few minutes passed, and then Bingley arrived with several servants, and after some pushing and banging, it was decided that the hinges would need to be removed. This was done with some difficulty, and finally, at nearly four hours after midnight, he was freed from the library.

“Darcy, my dear fellow!” Bingley said, his usually cheerful countenance drawn with distress. “How long have you been locked in there?”

Darcy sighed and said, “It has been several hours.”

Now Bingley looked genuinely horrified. “Darcy! I am so very sorry… ”

“It is quite all right,” Darcy interrupted. “I am tired, though, and eager to attain my bed.”

“Of course,” Bingley replied. “Of course.”

***

Darcy’s Bedchamber

Netherfield Hall

Ten O’clock the Next Morning

Darcy opened his eyes, glanced over at the clock ticking merrily on the mantle, and threw the covers aside. It was late by his standards, though of course he had only crawled under his sheets some five hours previously. However, he had never been able to go back to sleep after his eyes opened, so he might as well rise and dress for the day.

The door from his sitting room opened, and his valet entered. Darcy, who was fond of the man, said, “I am certain you are exhausted, Percy. When you have dressed me, I order you to take a nap. ”

His valet bowed slightly and said, “As you wish, sir. Do you desire a bath today or merely a shave?”

“The latter,” Darcy replied and took a seat for exactly that purpose. Percy was gifted at his job, but Darcy still made a point of staying silent while the man shaved his bristles, which gave Percy the opportunity to speak without interruption.

“I am grateful for your order that I sleep, sir,” he said as he began shaving his master’s right cheek. “I did not go to bed last night, as I was curious about this matter of the locked library door.”

Darcy grunted but kept his face steady because he did not wish to be nicked by the razor.

“I consulted with Mrs. Nicholls this morning, and she informed me that the key for the library should have been hanging from a hook to the left of the door. It was obviously not there. Moreover, according to Clem, one of the male servants, the lock did not malfunction but was locked from the outside.”

Darcy frowned and shifted slightly, and Percy lifted the razor, allowing Darcy to turn his head and stare at him.

“The key is missing,” he stated.

“Indeed, sir. ”

Darcy pressed his lips together and then leaned back against the chair to allow the rest of his face to be freed of its stubble.

As he lay there, his formerly sluggish thoughts quickened. He had been so amazed at Miss Elizabeth’s response to his offer of marriage that he had not thought much about the door. Locks did break on occasion, but to have it happen when he was alone with a single lady, after he had explained to that lady the details of George Wickham’s perfidy?

It was almost certain that Wickham had somehow overheard the conversation and deliberately locked the pair in the library, no doubt imagining that either Darcy would unhappily wed Miss Elizabeth out of honor, or Miss Elizabeth would be ruined when Darcy refused to marry her. Either situation would bring the roguish Wickham pleasure. The irony, of course, was that he genuinely wished to marry Elizabeth Bennet, while she had been so horrified at the idea that she had climbed out of a window to get away. Obviously Wickham had no idea that he admired Miss Elizabeth, which was best for everyone involved.

He was clean shaven now and rose to his feet, as his valet assisted him in dressing for the day.

“Sir,” Percy said, and he realized he had been standing stock still for at least a minute .

“My apologies,” he said. “Get some sleep. Regarding the situation with the library, I will deal with it.”

“As you wish, sir.”