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Elizabeth ducked under his flailing arms. If she allowed him to capture her, she knew it would not be good. “If you got what you deserved, Mr. Wickham, you would be on the way to hang for attempted murder.”

“Hold still. I am taking you with me. You are powerless to stop me.” Finally grabbing Elizabeth, he sought to drag her with him but found his will impeded by her struggle.

Elizabeth’s stomach twisted when his grimy hand closed around her delicate wrist. Instead of succumbing to defeat, a feeling of determination and strength surged through her.

A spark of inspiration jolted her, and she acted on it without hesitation.

“There is plenty I can do about it!” Kiernan had advised her exactly where to kick a man should she need to rescue herself.

Kicking him with all her strength, she got him right where she needed to in order to make him shriek.

“I thought you were a lady. That is not playing fair.” Wickham dropped to a crouch, his agony clear in the coarse string of curses he let loose. But despite his agony, he refused to release Elizabeth.

Elizabeth struggled in his weakened hold. Her injured arm was seriously hampering her ability to put up a fight. “Plenty fair, from my perspective.”

“Why won’t you behave?” Furious at her attack on his person, he reared back in to slap her, only to scream again.

Suddenly, Wickham felt the searing pain of an arrow slicing through his hand, leaving the arrow lodged in his flesh, sticking out of both sides.

“My hand! What did you do?” Wickham cradled his injured hand, releasing Elizabeth to do so.

His cries of anguish echoed through the air as he bemoaned his fate.

Kitty dashed up, panting and pale. She released the skirts she had picked up to run, drew her bow once more, and aimed at Mr. Wickham. “Lizzie, are you all right? I was trying to wait until you were clear, but I could not let him hit you.”

Mr. Bennet stared at his tipped-over king, unable to fathom where it had all gone wrong.

His bishop had taken Darcy’s knight at the beginning.

Things had been proceeding well. Where had that queen come from?

He could not stop the attack that had left him completely vanquished, its force like a physical blow.

Darcy watched the shock and anger flit across Mr. Bennet’s face.

He had not even found the game to be that challenging.

Darcy’s jaw clenched and his eyes burned with indignation as he watched the pompous man.

He knew he was constantly tripping over his words, and it was worse when he was upset.

Yet Darcy was trembling with intensity as he tried to find the words to say something of import to Mr. Bennet.

“I believe you are an abhorrent person and not deserving of the kindness you have thus far been shown. I will advise the Bennet ladies to pack and prepare for their departure. It thrills me that soon they will no longer have to endure your company. My groomsman will stay here to assist them, as I want them to feel secure and safe as they go through this adjustment.” He would not leave the ladies vulnerable to an angry Mr. Bennet.

Darcy carefully wrapped the book by Mr. Striker, and he left the room to allow Mr. Bennet to wallow in his defeat.

Theodore felt the need to add his own input before he left.

“You thought your few years in Oxford playing chess against other boys would be enough to keep you at the top of your game. Staying in your library for the last twenty years has done nothing but encourage your unfounded pride in yourself. Let this be a lesson from a younger man with more experience in life: never underestimate the people around you. It may surprise you.” Theodore placed a book about the language of flowers on the desk and left, closing the door behind him as he went.

Suddenly, a commotion in the entryway had them rushing to see if they could be of assistance. Lydia was leaning over, windblown and breathing hard, trying to catch her breath while asking for help. When she stood, she spotted them in the entryway and surged forward, grabbing at Theodore’s sleeve.

“Mr. Wickham is on the archery field trying to take Elizabeth. You must hurry.” Lydia pulled at the colonel’s arm, trying to direct him where he was most needed.

Theodore took off like a shot. Darcy followed, but at a much slower pace than his more athletically gifted cousin. A high-pitched scream caused the hairs on his neck to come to attention. Please , he begged in his heart, let her be all right .

“Why would you do that?” Wickham dropped to his knees, planting his forehead in the dirt. He was too overcome by the pain to flee.

“I would have aimed for your heart, but you do not have one,” Kitty replied, not taking her eyes off the man threatening her sister.

“I came to assist a damsel in distress, only to find out she has already slain the snake.” Theodore laughed at the scene before him.

Wickham lay in the dirt, sobbing and cursing, an arrow stuck in his hand.

Elizabeth’s sister stood above him, another arrow cocked at the ready, an avenging Artemis in all her glory.

“I am glad you came, but I hope that this has not interrupted the goings-on with Father,” said Elizabeth.

Her words were calm, but her heart still fluttered in her chest. She tried to tell herself she was fine, everything was fine.

There was no reason to fall apart from an attack of the vapors.

Yet her hands were shaking and everything was going gray at the edges.

“Elizabeth!” Darcy cried out to the woman who possessed his heart. She appeared unharmed and still his fear persisted. She was looking at Wickham, who was on the ground crying and complaining.

“Wills, I…” Elizabeth found herself unable to continue. The world that had been graying at the edges faded to black.