Page 40 of Pride & Prejudice and Plain Speaking
Elizabeth had known the moment she laid eyes on Mr. Wickham’s tall form that the man had evil intent. His face was a mask of amiability, but his eyes were hard and desperate.
“Stay away from me,” she ordered him as he approached. “Stay away!”
“I have wonderful news, Miss Elizabeth,” he returned with a vicious smile. “You and I are going to be married.”
She screamed piercingly and turned to run back to Longbourn, to safety. She had only ten yards on the man and she was hampered both by her skirts and her short legs, but she ran for her life, for her virtue. Behind her, she heard the sound of pounding feet and cursing, and before she had gotten far at all, his heavy hands shoved her to the ground.
She twisted around and looked up into his jeering face, and she shrieked again as his right hand tore at the neckline of her dress. Without hesitation, Elizabeth turned her head and bit down hard on his hand, causing him to yell in fury and strike her with his left fist.
Her head exploded in pain, and she cried out again, just as a flurry of angry barking burst upon her ears. Wickham, who had found his hands full with Elizabeth’s surprisingly vigorous defense, shouted in anguish as sharp teeth suddenly dug into his posterior. He lurched away from Elizabeth to face his new assailant, a red dog who retreated from his buttocks only to sink his jaws into Wickham’s right leg through the man’s breeches.
George Wickham yelled again and hit the beast with his uninjured left hand. The spaniel was knocked back for a moment, then leaped in to snap viciously at Wickham’s fingers.
The steward’s son leaped up, intent on escaping into the woods toward Meryton, just as two horses thundered down the path and halted between him and safety. A moment later, Fitzwilliam Darcy, heedless of his still sore ankle, leaped off his horse and punched Wickham in the jaw. The steward’s son was knocked off his feet and onto the ground. Darcy, his face suffused with wrath, bashed him again in the face.
“Miss Elizabeth, Miss Elizabeth,” Bingley exclaimed fearfully, rushing over to kneel down next to the girl. “Are you all right?”
Elizabeth sat up cautiously, her hand on her aching forehead, and nodded through her tears, “I am … I am all right. Thank God you are here, both of you. Thank God.”’
Bingley patted her arm clumsily as he turned to face Wickham, who was lying on the ground with Darcy crouching over him; his friend’s face was positively murderous and Bingley, for all his affability, felt equally enraged.
“What have you to say for yourself, Lieutenant Wickham?” he snarled angrily.
Wickham sat up cautiously and smiled unpleasantly, “What have I to say? I say that I will soon be your brother by marriage, Bingley. Miss Elizabeth will soon be my bride.”
“She most certainly will not!” Darcy hissed, his hands clenching into fists.
Wickham kept a wary eye on his old playmate, but he maintained his insouciant grin, “Oh, but she will. She is ruined otherwise, and all her beautiful sisters with her, including Miss Bennet. Do you not see?”
Darcy turned toward Elizabeth and watched as the color drained from her face, her beautiful eyes suddenly lifeless.
“He is right,” she murmured, her expression blank. “I am ruined elsewise.”
“Do not take it too much to heart, Elizabeth,” Wickham proclaimed, straightening his back. “I am quite a handsome devil, if I do say so myself. As soon as your father makes you heiress of Longbourn, we will be married and, I am certain, very happy together.”
“Heiress of Longbourn …” she murmured in bewilderment.
“Of course, or I will not find it worth my while to marry you,” Wickham proclaimed calmly.
Darcy had had enough. He settled his body firmly and lifted one mighty fist and smashed it into Wickham’s face, knocking him over. He hit him three more times, ignoring the howls of pain, until the vile cur collapsed on the ground, stunned.
When Darcy looked up, both Bingley and Elizabeth were staring at him in awe and some degree of surprise.
“I will not let this happen, Miss Elizabeth,” Darcy said gravely, rubbing his right fist with his left hand. “I promise.”
“What can you do?” she asked, tears trickling down her face. “He will tell everyone what happened here …”
“I pledge to you that he will not,” Darcy intoned passionately. “He will not. Please let me think.”
Elizabeth nodded and obediently fell silent, struggling to calm herself. Maxwell, sensing her distress, touched her face with his wet nose, causing her to smile feebly, “You are such a good dog, Maxwell, to come to my rescue against that bad man.”
“He is a hero,” Darcy agreed suddenly. “Bingley, help me bind Wickham’s hands with my scarf and lift him onto your horse. I will lead your horse back to Netherfield and lock Wickham in the stable tack room. My footmen can help guard him. Are you able to walk back to Longbourn with Bingley’s help, Miss Elizabeth?”
She shook her head, “I can walk, yes, but I cannot return to Longbourn like this. My mother is an inveterate gossip.”
“Surely she will keep quiet about this horrifying affair!” Bingley exclaimed, pulling off his coat and wrapping it around Elizabeth’s tattered dress.
“She will not,” Elizabeth insisted, wiping her eyes. “Even with the best of intentions, it will slip out. No, if I go home now, we are ruined.”
“Then we will bring you back to Netherfield with us,” Darcy declared. “Come, Bingley, help me get Wickham on my horse and you can bring Miss Elizabeth with you. We will take Wickham to the stables, wrap Miss Elizabeth in a stable blanket to cover her torn dress, and bring her into Netherfield Hall. My sister, Mrs. Annesley, and Mrs. Hurst can tend to her and lend her new clothing. We can then send a message to Longbourn informing them that Miss Elizabeth had an accident during her walk, and we brought her to Netherfield.”
“What a brain you have!” Bingley said admiringly, moving forward to help bind their prisoner’s hands. “But what of Wickham?”
“I will not permit him to wag his foul tongue on this matter,” Darcy assured them both. “That I promise you.”