Page 56 of Tempted (Heart to Heart Collection #2)

Chapter 56

Just Outside Meryton, Hertfordshire

T he sun was a low and heavy bronze in the sky when Darcy drew up his enclosed Brougham in the clearing. His eye roved the thin edging of trees surrounding them, and he wondered precisely how many men lurked in the shadows. Reginald grunted on the seat beside him and gestured to a second carriage, now approaching from the road beyond a neighbouring field. They exchanged long looks but said nothing.

Wickham pulled up and dropped the reins in his lap. “Prompt as usual, Darcy, but you agreed to come alone.”

Darcy carefully looped the reins, set the brake on his carriage, and nodded to his cousin. They got down, and Darcy came to the horses’ heads. “We are alone, unless you brought someone. You did not think Matlock would agree to hand over such a sum without demanding to see it done properly, do you? Bring out Mrs Bennet and her daughters.”

“Not so hasty, let me see inside the carriage.” He pulled apart his coat just enough to display a pistol butt.

Darcy went to the door, keeping his hands visible. Wickham angled his own vehicle, the better to see inside. “Very well, so long as you have no guard or someone secreted between the wheels. The money?”

“Send out Mrs Bennet and her daughters first.”

Wickham shrugged and got down to open the door. “Forgive me, Mrs Bennet,” they heard him say, “but this highbrow does not believe that you are perfectly safe. I hope your drive was everything pleasant?”

A chorus of feminine voices spilt out the carriage door. “Not believe you? Why Mr Wickham, I shall set him right. Who is this insufferable man? Lydia, step carefully! Do not twist your ankle again. Mr Wickham cannot always be carrying you.”

Wickham handed the ladies down and bowed before them, putting on a nauseatingly gallant display. “This way, my dears,” he urged. “There, now you see my old friend Darcy who would have stolen your Elizabeth from her rightful husband. He thinks I have done dishonourably by you! What do you say to that, my loves?”

Mrs Bennet set her hands on her ample hips and glared up at Darcy. “You! I have read your letters, Mr Darcy, and they are full of arrogance and conceit. Why, the things you said about my dearest girl, I could simply slap you!”

Darcy’s brow pinched. “I am afraid you must be mistaken. I never wrote to you directly, madam.”

“No, no, they were not addressed to me, but to our dear Mr Wickham here. He was good enough to show them to me—why, I read them myself. How many times did you abuse my poor Lizzy’s character?” She sniffed. “To think you meant to steal her away from dear Colonel Fitzwilliam by lying about his death! Well, I only say it is a mercy she is finer than you, sir.”

Darcy gritted his teeth. “Mrs Bennet, there has been a misunderstanding. This is hardly the time. Are you and your daughters well? I trust the funds for your travel were received and put to good use?”

“But of course, we are well, no thanks to you! What, would you now accuse Mr Wickham of a poor character, too? He told me the truth after we had sailed that he had to pay for our tickets himself, the poor man. To think you had my brother fooled into believing you were generous!”

Darcy exchanged grim glances with the earl and shook his head. Wickham had entirely corrupted the woman, and he did not have the time at present to lay out the truth. “Mrs Bennet, if you would kindly mount the box. My cousin here will be happy to help you while I conclude the business with Mr Wickham.”

“Business?” she scoffed. “The only business you ought to be concluding is an apology, Mr Darcy. I have no intention of going with you in your carriage!”

“Come now, my dear Mrs Bennet,” Wickham chuckled, patting the woman’s hand as if he were her son. “I assure you, Darcy is not always a brute. He will look out for your safety while I’m away.”

“Away, where?” Darcy huffed quietly. “What tales have you told them, Wickham?”

One of the sisters—one bearing a striking resemblance to Elizabeth—planted her feet and glared up at Darcy. “He’s going to help my sister and the colonel, no thanks to you. Lucky for Lizzy that someone will do something , if his own family casts him out over his choice of wife!”

Darcy smothered a weary sigh, and for an instant, considered letting Wickham keep the ladies. “I hope I will win your trust, Miss Bennet.”

“Hah! How very pompous you are. Oh, dear Mr Wickham, surely you cannot mean for us to stay with him?” She turned stubbornly away from Matlock, who was trying to lead her to the carriage, and batted her lashes at Wickham.

Wickham’s artificial smile had become so strained it looked like more of a sneer. “You will be quite safe, my dear Miss Lydia. Your faithful George Wickham will make sure of it. There, there, do not ruffle your petticoats. Come along, Miss Kitty,” he called to the other sister, who was regarding Darcy suspiciously. “Oh, do not fear him, his bark is worse than his bite.”

Wickham waited until the ladies had turned their backs. “Is the money in the boot?”

Darcy jerked his head in that direction, and Wickham went. As he walked behind the carriage, however, a modestly attired young woman was sliding off the rumble seat and meekly following the Bennet ladies around to the door. “What, you even brought a maid?” he cried. “How do you not understand the idea of coming alone?”

Darcy lifted a shoulder. “I would not deny three ladies who have been bounced around and are being traded like cattle the dignity of proper escort. She is only here to see to their comfort.”

Wickham snorted. “Only you, Darcy. Open the boot.” He flicked his eyes meaningfully to the trees and moved so that his pistol showed again. “Over there, Matlock.”

Reginald came to stand by Darcy’s side, with a look that spoke of chagrin and scepticism. Darcy strained for any sounds as the ladies entered the coach, and heard nothing but the expected grunts and settlings, and a few shrill complaints from Mrs Bennet. But peering around the corner of the carriage at him, the finest eyes he had ever known, shaded beneath a maid’s bonnet. He nodded to her. Now.

Darcy scarcely touched the boot latch when it jerked away from him. Elizabeth had flown to the driver’s seat with the quickness of a cat and unleashed a feral-sounding shout to the horses. With the precision and boldness of an expert driver, she whipped the team about until the inner carriage wheels almost pivoted in place, and she was bearing savagely down on Wickham. He yelped in alarm and stumbled frantically out of the path of the oncoming team. Wickham hit the ground, more out of bad luck than intention, but from there he was in prime position to level his pistol at the driver…

Until Darcy and Reginald fell on him and pinned him down.

Wickham was spitting curses, slinging ineffective punches, and trying to kick his way free for several seconds, but he gave up when Darcy bent his arm behind his back. Reginald got the pistol and pointed it at Wickham’s head. The scoundrel curled his lip and gritted his teeth. “She won’t get far, Darcy. You’ve signed her death warrant.”

Darcy pushed up on Wickham’s wrist. “Tell whoever is hiding in the trees to come out!”

But there was no need, for a shot rang out, followed by another. Darcy only glimpsed Elizabeth’s head ducking down, heard her call on the horses for more, and then there was another shot.

He slammed against Wickham again. “Tell them I have the money on me! It is not in the carriage!”

Wickham twisted and cocked a glare up at Darcy. “ You told a lie? For the first time in my life, I do not believe you.”

Darcy yanked a thick bundle of bills from his breast pocket and held them up, where they could be clearly seen. “The money is here!” he cried.

The shots at the carriage died down, and it sped out of the clearing. Darcy heaved a sigh. Elizabeth was safe, but now he was the target. He raised cautiously to his feet and moved away from Wickham as half a dozen hungry-looking ruffians emerged from the trees, all with pistols pointed at him. Blast it all, where were Houghton’s men? He sensed Reginald glancing at him, and they backed up together, hands raised.

Wickham finished dusting himself off and snatched the bills from Darcy’s hand and the pistol from Reginald’s. He held the money aloft for his companions to see, then examined it. “These are all small bills! Come on, Darcy, where is the rest?”

A grin crept over Darcy’s face. “They are coming.”

One of the band was close enough now to thrust his pistol under Darcy’s chin, while two others were closing fast. A spear of doubt rippled through him. “Where is it, Darcy?” Wickham raged. He lifted his pistol and drew back his thumb on the hammer.

And then, a deafening crack, and a molten dagger of agony tore into his shoulder. Darcy’s knees buckled, and he clutched at the pain. Hot stickiness covered his fingers.

“Darcy!” Reginald called, but he was too dazed to respond. Sickening waves twisted his vision, turned his stomach, and made his skin crawl cold and hot all at once. His ears clamoured for long seconds, and he felt as if the shock of it would make him cast up his accounts. Reginald hurled himself at Wickham, and only then did Darcy apprehend his cousin’s danger. He staggered back to his feet, his tongue thick. “Reginald—” he warned.

In another instant, however, the matter settled itself. From each direction on the road thundered a company of Houghton’s men, all mounted and armed. Nearly two dozen in all surrounded them, and a moment later, it was Wickham and his companions throwing down their weapons.

Darcy’s world spun. He dropped cold and knew nothing more for a long while. When he awoke, his head was in Elizabeth’s lap, in a carriage bound once more for London. He closed his eyes and passed out again.

Darcy House

“I tell you, Darcy, my heart will never be the same, and I swear I have a new patch of grey hair.” Matlock rubbed his hand over a pate that was already growing so thin that a bit of silver was the least of his worries. “Was all that drama really necessary? Why did we not show up with force in the first place?”

“We drew them out,” Darcy reasoned. “And handed over half a dozen informants to the law, in addition to putting Wickham behind bars for good.”

“But you nearly got your wife and yourself killed! Not to mention me!” Reginald gulped down his drink in agitation, then, more kindly, asked, “How is the shoulder?”

Darcy smiled weakly. “Still attached, thank heaven. Where is Elizabeth?”

Reginald gestured with his glass to the door. “Still with her mother. Shall I call her?”

Darcy closed his eyes and shook his head. “I can wait.”

When his next visitor came, however, it was not Elizabeth, but Mrs Bennet. She approached the bed with a handkerchief wrung between her hands, her eyes moist as she peered cautiously to see if he was awake.

“Mrs Bennet,” he greeted her.

She flushed. “Oh, thank heavens! I thought surely you had been killed!”

He lifted a brow. “I thought that prospect would not distress you overmuch.”

“Oh—” She dabbed her handkerchief to her lips and fluttered her hands. “How very ungentlemanly of you to cast that up to me! Why, it was only a simple misunderstanding. Surely, you would not hold that against your own mother-in-law?”

He chuckled softly. “No, madam. In fact, though you had been misled, I rather admired your grit. You reminded me of another lady I know.”

“Lady Matlock?” Mrs Bennet perked up hopefully. “Oh, Lizzy introduced me to her. What an exquisite, magnificent creature! Why, the lace on her gown alone—”

“I meant a lady I admire even more than the countess,” Darcy interrupted. “The only one I shall ever have eyes for, the one who made a living man of me.”

“My Lizzy?” she whispered in awe. “Fancy that! My dearest girl! But that is not true, for she was always her father’s child. I hope you will not hold that against her, Mr Darcy.”

He grinned. “Never.”

“Mama,” Elizabeth scolded from the doorway, “you promised not to disturb him.”

Mrs Bennet started. “I was not disturbing him!” she huffed defensively. “We were only talking, were we not, Mr Darcy? But here she is to run me off, so I suppose I shall never have a proper chance to make amends.”

Elizabeth laughed and set her hands on her mother’s shoulders to kiss her cheek. “Jane is here and asking for you. She is in the drawing-room with Kitty and Lydia.”

“My Jane? Well, why did you not say so?” The lady scurried out the door, then stopped. “Lizzy, are you not coming?”

“I will be along, Mama,” Elizabeth promised. She waited until her mother had departed, then crossed the room to lean over his bed and brush a tender kiss to his brow.

“How are you, my love?”

“I would be better if you gave me a real kiss.”

She lowered her mouth to his lips and complied in a dizzyingly satisfactory manner. “Better?” she whispered.

He caught the edge of her sleeve. “Not quite.”

A mischievous light flickered in her eyes, and she nibbled her lip before casting a look over her shoulder. Without another word, she flipped back his blanket and climbed, fully clothed, into the bed beside him to lay her head on his uninjured shoulder. Her fingers laced with his, and she tilted her chin so that her lips pressed lightly against the edge of his jaw.

He sighed deeply and clasped her hand over his heart. “Now, that is decidedly better.”

She hummed in agreement. “Rest, William.”

He needed no encouragement. The surgeon’s ministrations and the anxieties of the day had left him spent and wasted. With Elizabeth’s warmth and sweet company beside him, it was only moments before a rattle sounded in his throat and he jerked awake from near-sleep. He squeezed her hand. “You should go to your family,” he murmured.

But she bore down more intimately, her arms possessing him more stubbornly. “You are my family.”