Page 36 of Fitzwilliam Darcy An Honourable Man

Liverpool

The next day

The morning breeze was brisk and invigorating, but Wickham was indifferent to the weather as he slumped, half-asleep in the corner of the carriage. He was on his way back to town, under strict orders to escort Cecile and the count’s wife to the villa. As it was his fate to have been awakened abruptly before dawn and made to dress hurriedly, he was still quite drowsy. Eyes closed and legs spread across the carriage seat, the back and forth sway of the conveyance had almost soothed him into another round of slumber by the time they reached town—almost.

Although his body was exhausted from all the travel in the last few days, his mind refused to stop replaying the events of the morning. Once awakened, all of his protestations of needing more rest had been for naught. The servant sent to carry out the count’s wishes obviously did not speak English and continued to shake him until he relented and sat up in bed. Then the man crossed his arms, standing guard, to make certain Wickham put his feet on the floor and began to get dressed. Had the villain been smaller, Wickham’s resistance might have been a little heartier, but when confronted with the tall, sturdy fellow who came to his room this morning, he had little choice but to comply.

Going about his morning ritual, he had pondered if the count was even awake at this ungodly hour, since it was still dark. That question, however, was answered the moment that same servant escorted him to the dining room. Breaking his fast as though he had not a care in the world, Count Stefano, dressed as elegantly as royalty, sat at the long ornate table. As Wickham entered the room, the count looked up from his plate, glaring at him, his distaste for his supposed late arrival evident.

“It is about time you were out of bed, Wickham. Did you consider that I would want to see my wife as soon as possible?” Wickham was too irritated to answer prudently.

“Humph! When I get to the inn, your wife will most likely still be sleeping, as well I should be! I do not relish having to wait while two women ready themselves to leave.”

“Nonsense! After you have something to eat, it will be late enough to call. Besides, if they have not eaten yet, it will be a good opportunity to invite them to come here to break their fast. The food will be undoubtedly much better than that available to them at the inn.”

Wickham sneered. “What better way to raise your wife’s suspicions than to insist they leave straightaway without even taking time to eat? It is my intention to make her think that I own this villa, and that when I learned that her travelling companion, an old friend, was in town, I hurried to extend an invitation for them to stay with me. If you push me to arrive early and insist they leave straightaway, she may become suspicious and decide that she does not want to avail herself of my generosity. I can just imagine taking her screaming and kicking from the inn or trussed up like a fowl.”

Stefano’s countenance darkened, but he kept a civil tongue. “Then we shall do it your way. One more hour should suffice for them to be awake, to have dressed and eaten. You have until then to enjoy the hospitality of my table. Would you care for tea, or is something stronger needed to get your day started?”

Wickham bristled at the inference. “Why would you think I need something stronger?”

“Because nothing escapes me. I have noticed your fondness for strong drink.”

“Perhaps I enjoy my brandy, but it never interferes with business! Tea shall suffice, unless you happen to have coffee. I do enjoy coffee in the morning.”

Stefano turned to one of the footman. “Instruct Mrs. Delgrado to prepare some coffee for Mr. Wickham.” He motioned to a chair. “Now fill your plate and sit down. We should discuss what will happen when you bring them back here.”

Wickham took a plate from the sideboard and began to fill it. He had to admit that the wonderful smells coming from the array of foods displayed had awakened his appetite. With his back to his host, he took a small bite from a sweet roll, savouring the taste of the cinnamon and sugar. Then he placed the rest on his plate and made his way to the table. In an obvious display of his distaste for the count’s officious ways, he took the seat at the opposite end, as far away from Stefano as possible.

Stefano sneered, “Can you hear me well that far away?”

Wickham continued to eat, keeping his head lowered and pretending not to care that the count was upset. “Well enough,” he answered loudly, and then under his breath— too well for my taste .

“Then listen carefully. When you return with the women, none of my people shall be milling about outside, as I do not wish to raise Elizabeth’s suspicions. A maid will be waiting just inside the door to escort the ladies to their rooms, and I shall make my presence known to my wife once she is situated. By the time she ascertains our intent, my men will have secured the exits and she shall not be able to escape, even if she wishes.”

Wickham took another bite of his sweet roll. “How soon will I be able to get my money and leave?”

“I shall not discuss the reward until I have my wife here by my side. Is that understood?”

Wickham nodded. He was not happy with the rebuff, but he would bring the blackguard’s wife to him, and then the count would pay him his due or he would go straight to Fitzwilliam Darcy. “Then let me be clear, Count Stefano. I expect to be paid in full once she is secured, as I do not plan to remain in Liverpool one minute longer than is absolutely necessary.”

The count’s steely eyes rested on Wickham while he finished his meal. Not allowing himself the satisfaction of replying, Stefano held his tongue. He would deal with this buffoon after Elizabeth was securely in his hands.

Once Elizabeth is mine again, I assure you that you shall not remain in Liverpool, or anywhere else, save hell itself, ever again.

The Landmark Inn

The tray of food and drink that Cecile had ordered before retiring last night sat nearly empty on the small table in the sitting room. A goodly array of food and a carafe of tea were delivered first thing that morning so that the two women could eat in the room instead of dining with the other guests. Each woman had eaten and then dressed leisurely. They now sat in the pleasant morning sun on the balcony, watching the many smaller boats swarm around the huge ships in the harbour.

Fortunately, this inn was not positioned directly behind the wharfs like many of the shops on this street, but was tucked away at the end—saved from most of the clamour of freight being loaded on and off the docked vessels. In addition, though the fish market nearby was already doing a brisk business, the wind was blowing in another direction this morning, leaving only the salty sea air to fill one’s senses. Thus situated, they had an exquisite panorama to take pleasure in. Tranquil , Elizabeth thought as she took a deep breath, but deceiving . She had read enough books describing life aboard ships to be familiar with the dangers. From this viewpoint, she concluded, one might imagine the sea to be peaceful and inviting, but upon closer examination might find it savage and unforgiving. All of a sudden, more of Cecile’s empty discourse interrupted her quiet contemplations.

“I would dearly love to be sailing somewhere far away,” Evan’s sister sighed wistfully. “Someplace to start anew, where no one knows my name or my situation. How liberating that would be!” For once, Mrs. Preston was being entirely truthful—she really did desire to start anew.

Elizabeth sighed wistfully as well. The only place she dearly longed to go was back to Pemberley ... to William.

Cecile continued to ramble, “I daresay you should be able to start anew in the Americas. I hear anyone with enough fortitude can succeed there.” She added arrogantly, “And anyone who would do what you have done has to have gall. I will give you that!”

A knock on the door saved Elizabeth from replying to her crass comment. Unfortunately, this intrusion also set into motion a chain of events that would parallel her analysis of the sea only moments before.

At the interruption, Cecile stood. “I shall see what they want.”

She swept her skirts aside to enter the narrow door leading to the bedroom and closed it silently, leaving Elizabeth to gaze at the water unaware of what would be said behind her back. The look of intrigue that passed between Cecile and Mr. Wickham was likewise unnoticed by the object of their conspiracy. In hushed tones, they discussed the woman on the balcony.

“Does she suspect anything?” Wickham enquired, straining to get a look at the dark-haired woman who, from what he could see, was very handsome. His heart beat faster. Too bad this woman was Stefano’s—he would have enjoyed getting to know her better.

“I do not think so.” Cecile shrugged. “She assumes that we are waiting here until the ship to the Americas arrives.”

“Excellent. Go explain to her that your old friend George Walters has learned that you are in Liverpool and requests the honour of your presence at his summer home just outside town. Be sure and let her know that declining my invitation is not practical, as you have limited funds. You will know how to handle it I am sure. I shall wait like a proper gentleman for you to introduce us, once you have her assent.”

“Walters?”

“She may have heard the name Wickham mentioned at some point while she stayed at Pemberley. I do not want to raise doubts.”

Cecile nodded, turning to return to the balcony but stopped short. “What will happen to her when the count has her under his power?”

“Do not bother yourself with those details, my dear. I am sure you really do not want to know.”

Cecile sighed, starting again to make her way towards Elizabeth. At one time, this type of deception would have been foreign to her nature—she would have found it revolting. But that was when I still had a conscience. Squaring her shoulders, she opened the door and stepped out to face her captive with forced cheeriness.

“You will never guess what has happened! What good fortune is ours!”

Turning to the sound of Cecile’s voice, Elizabeth’s brows knit as she caught sight of a man staring at her from just inside the room. He looked familiar, but she could not place where she had seen him. Nevertheless, something deep inside her cried out to be wary. Her heart began to beat faster under his continued analysis, while Cecile rattled on about the coincidence of Mr. Walters’ learning they were in Liverpool.

… Old friend ... villa nearby ... guests of his ... save our funds.

All of a sudden, Elizabeth’s attention was captured by a proclamation. “We shall be packed and on our way very shortly.”

Elizabeth turned to stare at Cecile, totally ignorant of most of what she had been saying. “On our way? Where?”

“Have you not been listening? To Mr. Walters’ villa, of course! We shall save the cost of rooms here.”

Instantly, all manner of alerts began to assail her. The sound of footsteps close behind caused her to look back over her shoulder. She discovered that the stranger now stood only a few feet away, smiling self-importantly. Cecile waved him forward.

Seeing dread spread over Elizabeth’s face, Cecile hurriedly exclaimed, “Elizabeth, may I introduce my good friend, Mr. George Walters. He owns the villa where we will stay while we await the arrival of your ship. Mr. Walters, this is Miss Elizabeth Lawrence, my friend.”

Wickham smiled. Stepping forward, he reached for Elizabeth’s hand and brought it to his lips, noticing the softness and the faint scent of rosewater. “It is a pleasure to meet any friend of Cecile’s, especially one so lovely.”

As their eyes met, a long-suppressed fragment of a memory came flooding back, and Elizabeth flinched without knowing the reason. She still could not recollect everything of the time she was ill, but instinctively she knew that she did not trust him. The man before her looked offended as she abruptly extracted her hand from his grasp.

“Thank you, Mr. Walters,” she replied icily, as she studied him with a quizzical brow. “It is kind of you to extend an invitation for Mrs. Preston and me to stay at your estate. Nevertheless, I believe it would be best if I stay here until my ship departs. I would not want to chance missing it. I have no objections to Mrs. Preston’s leaving me here alone.”

“Nonsense!” Wickham declared, looking very irritated, his smile leaving as quickly as his temper flared. “My home is much nicer than this—” he motioned wildly with his hands, “this stark establishment. And as for staying informed, my servants will assure that you are notified well before the ship is to set sail. Meanwhile, you and Cecile can serve as chaperones for each other, as there are no other guests at my home at present. Surely, you would not deny Cecile the chance to visit, and she cannot very well come without you.”

Elizabeth shifted from one foot to another as Cecile and this man coldly awaited her reply. Something was not quite right, but it was impossible for her to refuse the invitation as presented. “Of course not.”

Wickham’s pleasant mood returned at once, and he smiled brilliantly. “Excellent!” He turned to Cecile. “I shall have my men begin taking your luggage to the carriage so that we can be away from here as soon as possible. I have left instructions for my cook to expect company, and she always does a wonderful job when I entertain. I am sure the quality of the food will greatly exceed that which you have found here and on the road.”

Cecile let go of the breath she had been holding and took Elizabeth’s arm, guiding her towards her bedroom. “I am sure you will enjoy Mr. Walters’ estate much more than this bare room. Come. Let me help you pack.”

Liverpool

Downtown

Evan Ingram was already exhausted as he slowly made his way back to the centre of town. He had arrived in Liverpool early that morning with five trusted men, all expert shots. Each of them had gone in a different direction with instructions to frequent the local pubs, the wharfs, the shops—every place where people were known to congregate. They each had money aplenty to ply those they met with bribes or liquor, if warranted, to loosen tongues and stir memories regarding two women newly arrived from Derbyshire. Now with noon approaching, Evan was proceeding to a certain pub where they had agreed to gather to eat and discuss what they had learned. By nightfall, he hoped to know everything that he needed.

For his part, he had checked out the shipping offices, asking questions about all the ships in the harbour. He learned that three of them were leaving the next week—two for the Americas and one for Australia. When he enquired about any sailing today or tomorrow, the clerk was happy to point out that one had sailed that very morning for Italy and another had docked, set to sail tomorrow for Spain. Hearing of the departure of the ship to Italy, Evan cringed.

Cecile could not be acting alone in whatever scheme she had involved herself, and she surely had enough sense to know that if Elizabeth was anywhere in the British Isles or Ireland, Darcy would find her. Though he had said nothing to Ana, his first thought when learning of Cecile’s ploy to take her from Pemberley was that his sister must be involved with the man who had taken Elizabeth from Longbourn—Count Stefano. He would certainly have had reason to put Elizabeth on a ship to Italy, and there had been ample time for Cecile to have travelled to Liverpool before that ship had sailed this morning. He prayed that was not the case.

Blast! He thought. Darcy would move heaven and earth to find her no matter where in the world she was. Even Italy.

Just as he was mulling over that notion, someone coming towards him from the opposite direction across the street waved to get his attention. “Over here, sir!”

Evan had to smile. If not for his voice, he might never have recognised Mr. Watson, his livery foreman. They had all dressed rather shabbily, trying to avoid scrutiny, each sporting a dirty face and a worn hat that covered much of it. Evan crossed the street, motioning him into an alleyway between two buildings. As Mr. Watson entered the lane, a large carriage flew past on the street, and the servant could not contain his enthusiasm as he nodded towards the conveyance.

“That carriage that just passed may contain your sister.”

Evan made to go after it, but a strong arm stopped him. “Wait, sir! Let me explain!”

Evan halted so Watson continued. “I met this fellow in a pub, who was very talkative as long as I paid for the brew, so I kept him from getting thirsty. He said there was talk of two women newly arrived in town, but did not know precisely where they were staying. We were nearing the Landmark Inn, when he excitedly pointed out the carriage that just passed. I saw the woman in question get aboard just outside the inn. He says the carriage belongs to the owner of an estate just a few miles outside town where he once worked.”

Evan nodded at the truth of his words. “Are you fairly certain it was my sister?”

“I saw her only once from a distance when she was at Rosewood. However, if I were a betting man, I would say it was she. I did not see another woman with her, but I asked around the inn. Two women had been staying there, and someone said they both got into that carriage with a man—Mr. Walters, I was told. Personally, I only saw the one. According to the locals, this Walters is not a resident, though he has been staying at the estate I mentioned. I am sure that I can discover additional information, given enough time. I was headed to the pub to meet you and the others when I saw you coming.”

“Well done, Watson!” Evan slapped his back. “We must acquire directions to this villa, as I want some of our men to steal onto that property today. We need to be crafty and see what we can discover. Also, it would help if we knew who owns the estate.”

“If I can keep the locals drinking, I will find that out as well, sir.”

“Excellent. You go ask some more questions, and I shall occupy myself with securing a nondescript carriage or two and some mounts to use while we are here.”

Watson smiled, though his voice held a little trepidation. “Perhaps we might have that bite to eat first? I have not had anything since dawn, and I am sure the others have not stopped to eat either.”

“Now that you mention it,” Evan smiled warmly, “neither have I. Of course, we shall make time to eat first. I do not want anyone to faint from lack of nourishment!”

The large, brawny, liveryman motioned in the direction of the small pub where they were to meet the others, and with a satisfied smile, Evan took the lead, moving a little lighter now that some useful information had been discovered.

We have been here only one morning and have a lead to follow. Now, if only Darcy will arrive!

Liverpool

Later that afternoon

Weary to the bone, William, Richard and Mr. Williamson arrived in Liverpool late that afternoon. At William’s insistence, they headed directly to the wharfs, though Richard tried to argue that they should not be seen about town until they knew exactly what they were facing. He reasoned that they really did not know if someone had actually taken Elizabeth to Liverpool or if she was still safely ensconced at Pemberley. Nonetheless, nothing would satisfy William but to check on the ships. He feared that Elizabeth might already be aboard one of them.

To appease Richard, William had brought several items of clothing—less expensive coats and hats borrowed from his steward, while Richard had brought along his civilian clothes, which were modest enough. Thus, when they finally exited their coach in a back alley near the wharfs, other than William’s much too expensive boots, he and Richard were not as conspicuous as they might otherwise have been. They called on the shipping offices, while Mr. Williamson took the opportunity to check the nearest shops and pubs for gossip of new arrivals.

Unfortunately, at the shipping offices William and Richard learned more than Evan Ingram had learned only a few hours earlier. They, too, heard of the ship that was to depart for Spain the next day and of the ones leaving next week for the Americas and Australia. However, the news of the ship that had departed for Italy that very morning caused William even more apprehension than it had Evan Ingram. His request for a list of the passengers met with great resistance until some carefully placed pounds enticed the clerk to ask them into a private room. Once inside, the man not only provided the list, but also informed them of the last minute additions to the passengers—a man and a woman who had boarded right before the ship sailed. Alas, he claimed he had not personally seen them and could not provide names or descriptions. Unfortunately, while the passenger list did not include Stefano and Elizabeth, the last minute passengers could have been anyone.

Once they were privy to that information, Richard noted that William’s entire countenance changed dramatically. Whereas before, William was simply too nervous to be quiet or patient and paced about endlessly, now it seemed he was too calm—almost unemotional. William was reacting in the same manner that he had when his father had died—he was shutting down emotionally. Richard knew he had to act quickly or all would be lost.

Tugging on his cousin’s arm, he pulled William out the door and guided the now eerily passive man back to the alley where their coach waited. When they entered the lane, Richard whirled around, pushing William up against the side of the building. He put a hand on either side of his head and leaned in until he was within inches of his face.

“Get hold of yourself, man! You have not lost her yet! Hell, we are not even sure she is missing, much less on that ship! But if she was on it, you would bloody well just have to set sail after her!” Other than blinking, there was no response so Richard continued in this mode.

“Know this! If she is missing, we shall find her and bring her home no matter the distance. However, I cannot do this alone, and you will be of no use to Elizabeth or to me if you give in to your fears. Now, here is the question! Are you going to pull yourself together and help me or not?”

Richard’s tirade finally pierced William’s consciousness, and the deep-rooted bands of fear that had snaked themselves around his heart only minutes before let go. He took a deep, shuddering breath, closing his eyes and running his hands over his face several times. When he opened them again, the cousin that Richard had confidence in was back.

“You are right! I have not lost Elizabeth! Nor shall I ever let her go! I struggle against thoughts that I have lost my mother and father and I shall lose Elizabeth, too, but I shall conquer these demons. You have my word.”

For a brief second, Richard gauged William’s determination. “Very well, we shall put it behind us. Just remember, I have not lost a battle yet, and I do not intend to start now. What say you to staying at that boarding house you always frequent when you go to Ireland? I stayed there once, and they have clean beds and good food. We can rest a bit and make our plans.”

Villa Tuscany

On the trip to the villa, Elizabeth had ignored the endless chatter between her companions. Instead, she feigned interest in the view of the countryside from the window. Now, several minutes after the carriage had turned from the main road onto the drive to the villa, her fears began to subside, and she wondered if she had over-reacted.

The prospect was certainly beautiful, and it was a relief to see that the only people in sight were an older man tending the shrubbery and a white-haired footman headed in their direction down the front steps of the white-washed villa. They certainly looked harmless enough, and the entire scene appeared pleasant and inviting, not at all foreboding as she had feared. She was most impressed with the house, which reminded her of the drawing of an Italian manor she had once seen in a book. Her thoughts must have been easy to read, as the gentleman passenger broke through her reverie with a comment.

“Now, this is not so bad, is it? I hope you will enjoy your stay at my humble home, Miss Elizabeth.”

While he was speaking, the coach came to a complete stop, and the footman opened the door. Wickham exited first, turning back to help her out next. Elizabeth had no time to reply to his welcome, as Cecile exited the carriage right behind her, still talking constantly—a sign that she was nervous.

“Come, Elizabeth! Let us get settled in quickly, so we can rest before we dine.”

In just a few short steps, they were inside the terra cotta coloured foyer furnished with marble floors and brightly coloured rugs and draperies unlike anything Elizabeth had seen before. While she was admiring the interior decorations, turning in an entire circle, a maid silently appeared before her and curtsied, then motioned for her and Cecile to follow. From the way she conducted herself, Elizabeth realised that the young girl probably did not speak English. She glanced at Cecile, who only shrugged and waved Elizabeth ahead of her. As they made their way up the curved stairs, Elizabeth happened to glance down and see her host following her actions with a strange look on his face. Wickham had just turned to go in another direction when, unexpectedly, she remembered where she had seen him. Her heart almost stopped.

She halted, causing Cecile to run into her. Swirling around, she ran past Cecile, back down the stairs towards the entrance. She had almost gained the foyer and the still open front door when Wickham stepped out to grab her around the waist.

Elizabeth began fighting and kicking with all her strength, but it only seemed to amuse him. He laughed, clasping her even tighter. In their struggles, he used his arms and hands to touch her in intimate places, and when he finally had Elizabeth immovable in his grip, one hand was across her breasts.

He could not resist and taunted her, whispering suggestively so no one else could hear, “What a beautiful body you have, Miss Elizabeth! Too bad I did not have time to take you the night I found you at the inn with Darcy!”

Thoroughly repulsed, Elizabeth renewed her efforts to twist from his grasp and was almost successful when a shot rang out. Wickham fell to the floor, letting her go and causing her to reel from being set free so abruptly. Shocked to see the one who had held her only moments ago lying on the floor, blood pouring from his temple, Elizabeth’s eyes sought Cecile and found she was equally stunned. Suddenly, Mrs. Preston’s screams pierced the air and were just the stimulus needed to remind Elizabeth of her mission. She twirled around, intent on escaping the manor, only to find two large men now standing in the doorway, blocking her way. A wicked laugh filled the house and her breath hitched.

Stefano!

Horrified— her eyes darted in every direction, but she could not locate him. Just when she had determined she must be mad, he stepped out of a shadowy doorway between her and the staircase, pistol in hand and his eyes glowing exactly as they had when Addie had died—like those of a demon.

“I told that fool that no one—NO ONE—touches my wife and lives!”

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