Page 62 of Missing

Elizabeth had practised for almost an hour with Georgiana before going in search of her husband. One of the gardeners told her he had seen him walking towards the river, so she took that path.

As she walked, Elizabeth reflected on how much their lives would change in the coming months.

Though she had not confirmed it, she suspected that by the following year, there would be three in the family.

Yet she wished to tell William only when she was certain of her condition.

She knew his overprotective nature too well; he would fret constantly for her safety and that of their future child.

Her heart swelled at the thought of William's reaction when he heard the news, and she could already imagine Violet, Mr. Darcy, and Georgiana rejoicing with them.

But her joy vanished the instant she reached the river path and heard Mr. Wickham's voice raised in anger.

She saw him pointing a pistol at William and instinctively hid behind a bush, desperate to think how she might aid her beloved husband.

"Wickham, how did you know your mother tried to kill me? You were not there," William asked, hoping to distract him and gain time to devise a defence.

"I was not there," Wickham sneered, "but my mother told me often enough how she hated you, and how she would one day rid herself of you—and she did.

You do not know, Dalton, that my mother was your honourable father's mistress.

She dreamt that one day they would marry, and I would inherit everything. "

William was stunned by the revelation, though he knew it was not the moment to dwell upon it. He must find a way to neutralise Wickham. "Even if I were dead, and Mr. Darcy had no other children, none of this would ever be yours, for you are not a Darcy."

"I am more a Darcy than you," Wickham retorted bitterly, "for I grew up here, beside Mr. Darcy, who raised me as a gentleman, while you were raised the son of a tradesman. I know Pemberley and Darcy House as I know my own hand."

"And what do you hope to gain by murdering me? You will be imprisoned, and your life will be wretched," William replied, growing uneasy as he observed how agitated his adversary was.

"No, Dalton. None will know it was I who killed you.

I shall leave, then return in a few days to console my godfather—and your widow.

If fortune favours me, she is already carrying your child, and I shall be stepfather to the future heir of all this.

If she is not, I shall have the Dalton fortune instead—the inheritance of my future wife.

And beyond all that, the pleasure of possessing such an exquisite woman, whom I shall delight in every night. "

"Never speak of my wife in such a manner again!" William cried, advancing upon him.

"One step more, and I shall fire," Wickham warned.

"My patience is at an end. It has been a displeasure to meet you, Dalton.

You are precisely as my mother described you: insufferable, with your air of nobility and perfection—qualities which will serve you little in hell.

" He raised the pistol to William's head.

But before he could fire, a stone struck him sharply in the back, causing him to drop the weapon. Elizabeth, seeing Wickham about to shoot her husband, had seized a stone and hurled it with all her strength.

The instant the pistol fell, William rushed to seize it, but Wickham was quicker. He snatched it up and, without turning, discharged it at the one behind him.

"ELIZABETH!" William cried in anguish.

◆◆◆

"Jane, do you like my new dress? I plan to wear it to Mrs. Dalton's friend's ball in Manchester," Lydia said excitedly.

"It is very pretty, Lydia," Jane replied.

"Well, it is not truly new; it was a gown aunt Philips gave me a year ago. Mrs. Dalton taught me how to make an old dress look new," Lydia explained, smiling at Violet.

Jane was pleased with the support Elizabeth's mother-in-law had given them all. "Mrs. Dalton, I hope you will accept our invitation to spend a season with us at Netherfield."

"Thank you very much, Mrs. Bingley. I shall accept your kind invitation next winter, for the northern winter is far harsher. Besides, I shall then have the opportunity to visit the many friends I have made in your family and in the neighbourhood."

"And of course, you must spend a few days with us as well," Mrs. Bennet added eagerly. She was feeling better and able to spend a few hours in the drawing room.

"Mrs. Dalton, are you sure you wish to spend so much time with my silly daughters?" asked Mr. Bennet, smiling.

"Not only do I wish to spend time with your silly daughters, Mr. Bennet, but also with the rest of the family—including their silly father," Violet replied, making everyone laugh.

Mr. Bennet greatly respected Violet and acknowledged the effort she made in aiding his daughters.

"Mrs. Dalton, could you help me with this drawing? I cannot manage to sketch animals," Kitty asked.

"I shall do what I can," Violet replied kindly.

Mr. Bingley came to fetch Jane and conversed with his father-in-law about some alterations he had made in the northern part of Netherfield, which would allow him to use water more efficiently.

Jane grew prouder of her husband with every passing day. He rose early and worked diligently, yet true to his affable nature, their evenings were filled with company. They often entertained guests with cards and conversation—though now, without wagers.

After speaking with Mr. Bennet, Mr. Bingley entered the drawing room and seated himself beside Jane. "Why are you looking at me so, my dear?" he asked his wife.

"I look at you because I think you appear particularly handsome today, my dear husband," Jane replied with a smile.

"But I have not changed in the last twenty-four hours."

"No, my dear, you have changed very much—for the better," Jane answered softly.

Mr. Bingley smiled, took his wife's hand, and joined in the conversation with the rest of the family. Without a doubt, it had been an excellent decision to take charge of his own life and distance himself from the harmful influence of his sisters.

◆◆◆

When William saw Elizabeth fall to the ground, he ran to her side in desperation, caring for nothing else. Wickham, terrified at the sight of Elizabeth bleeding, immediately fled.

The gunshot had alarmed several workers, who hurried to the scene. Two of them pursued Wickham and managed to capture him. They knew him well and understood the danger posed by the man who had long behaved as though he were master of Pemberley.

"Elizabeth, my love, speak to me; tell me you are well," William cried in anguish. He removed his cravat and bound it tightly around her shoulder to stem the bleeding.

He scarcely noticed when others came to assist. Lifting his wife into his arms, he carried her into the house.

On hearing what had occurred, Mr. Darcy immediately summoned the doctor, while Mrs. Reynolds tended to Elizabeth as best she could.

William, distraught and inconsolable, did not know what to do.

Fortunately, the physician arrived swiftly and aided Mrs. Reynolds.

"If Elizabeth… If that scoundrel takes my wife from me, I shall kill him with my own hands, even if it means spending the rest of my life in prison," William declared, his tears of anger and pain unchecked.

"Son, pray calm yourself. Do not anticipate the worst; the doctor will soon inform us, and you will see that all is well," Mr. Darcy urged.

It broke his heart to see his son so anguished.

He had lost his own wife, and he understood how devastating it would be for William should he suffer such a loss.

"Do not speak to me, sir. This is all your fault," William exclaimed without thought.

"Why do you say so, son?"

"Because it was you who fed, educated, and protected the son of your mistress. And after she cast me into the river to kill me, you spent the rest of your life shielding that villain who has harmed others as she did."

"Edith Wickham was never my mistress. I was never unfaithful to your mother—neither with her nor with anyone. If Wickham told you so, he lied. His mother tried to save you—"

"NO, SHE TRIED TO KILL ME!" William cried desperately.

"Today, I went to the river and remembered everything.

She pushed me in, and as I grasped her dress, she too lost her footing and fell.

I clung to the trunk of a tree, and I know not what became of her.

That woman caused all this family's misfortune—she took me from you, and now her son would rob me of what I most love… "

Mr. Darcy drew his son into his arms, and William wept uncontrollably, overwhelmed by the dreadful revelations of the day and by his wife's peril.

When William grew calmer, Mr. Darcy recounted his history with the Wickhams and expressed his deepest regret.

"I never imagined that woman capable of such wickedness, nor that she harboured hatred against you. Although my parents arranged my marriage to Lady Anne, we loved one another dearly, and ours was a happy union. I cherished your mother, William, and that is why I never married again."

"I am very sorry if I offended you, Mr. Darcy. There is so much I do not know, and my Elizabeth…"

"Do not trouble yourself, son. It is I who must apologise to you and to Georgiana for having bestowed affection and protection upon the son of a woman who deserved nothing but contempt."

At last, after what seemed to William an eternity, the physician emerged from Elizabeth's chamber.

"Mrs. Darcy is out of danger. Though she has lost blood, I believe she will recover with a few days' rest and nourishing food.

The bullet pierced tissue in her right shoulder, which I have bound securely to prevent movement of the arm.

Mrs. Reynolds and her maid must renew the bandage daily to prevent infection.

Finally, I believe your wife has been most fortunate, for neither the bullet nor her fall has harmed the child."

"Thank you, doctor. May I see my wife?"

"Of course, but she must rest."

"I only wish to sit beside her. Do not fear; I shall see that she sleeps and takes her rest," William said earnestly.

Then the physician's last words struck him.

"Doctor… the child? What child? Oh no—Elizabeth! Pray do not deceive me—is all well?"

William's emotions were in tumult: relief that Elizabeth lived, joy at the news of a child, and terror at how near he had come to losing them both.

"William, my son, you should go to your wife," Mr. Darcy urged gently.

"You are right, father. Pray excuse me," William replied, hastening to Elizabeth's side.

Mr. Darcy's heart leapt to hear his son call him father. He rejoiced to think that each day brought them closer, and he hoped for many years to see his grandchildren grow, to savour in them what he had been denied with his own child.

Yet he had urgent business. A footman reported that Wickham was secured in the stable, bound and guarded, awaiting the magistrate.

When Wickham saw Mr. Darcy enter, he began his desperate falsehoods.

"Godfather, that impostor who pretends to be your son seeks to kill me because he cannot bear that you love me more—"

"Enough, George. I am here to tell you that I shall never forgive you for seeking my son's life.

I feel no loyalty to you or your family.

I have handed to the magistrate a full account of the debts I have paid on your behalf these eight years, together with the pistol you used against my daughter-in-law.

You will spend your life in prison, and I never wish to see you again.

You might have followed your father's example, but instead you chose to live in vanity and deceit like your mother. Goodbye, Wickham."

"Godfather, you cannot do this to me…"

But Wickham's protests went unheard. The magistrate arrived, and the following day, George Wickham was found guilty and sentenced to prison.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Reynolds had received Gibson's letter and determined to end the matter of Wickham's accomplice.

"Jackson, I sent for you to inform you that you are dismissed from Mr. Darcy's service. You shall be paid for the days you have worked this month, and I shall add the fare for a mail coach to London."

"Why am I dismissed? I have been an excellent servant and demand respect," Jackson cried indignantly.

"Neither Gibson, nor the coachman, nor I consider you an excellent servant. You rise late, disappear for hours without leave, and are insolent. Worst of all, you have acted as Wickham's informant, thereby assisting him in his attempts to injure this family," Mrs. Reynolds declared firmly.

"I deny it! I demand to speak to Mr. Darcy," Jackson retorted.

"I wished to spare Mr. Darcy further distress, but if you insist, I shall tell him that Gibson saw you more than once conversing with Wickham behind Darcy House. He will have you imprisoned with your accomplice. What do you choose?"

Jackson said nothing. He accepted the wages, packed his belongings, and left Pemberley in haste. The next day, he boarded the carriage to London and disappeared forever from the lives of the Darcys.

P I must regain my strength, so that I may be well for our journey to the Lake District. William, sit beside me; I have something to tell you…"

William seated himself upon the bed, placed his hand tenderly upon his wife's waist, and said, his voice broken with emotion, "I know, my sweet love, and I adore you all the more for this precious gift."

"William, my dearest William… lie down beside me. You look so weary, my love."

William removed his boots and lay down beside her. "I love you, Elizabeth," he whispered, kissing her softly. Then he pressed his lips to her belly and murmured, "And I love you too."

Elizabeth, utterly spent, could not keep her eyes open. William, too, was worn with fatigue, so he carefully enfolded her in his arms and soon fell asleep beside her.

Mr. Darcy and Georgiana came to see Elizabeth, but when they beheld the devoted couple, sleeping in one another's embrace, Mr. Darcy quietly instructed Mrs. Reynolds to let them rest. At last, peace had returned to the life of his beloved son, Fitzwilliam Darcy.