Page 27 of The Bennet Heir

Chapter Twenty-Six

A mong the men in the outer office was one of Wickham’s informants. He had overheard the entire exchange and wasted no time in hurrying to report it. He found Wickham shortly after his meeting with Miss Bingley, who had handed over jewellery worth the thousand pounds he had demanded and secured a promise that the remainder would be given to him upon his return from Gretna Green with Miss Bennet as his bride. As before, their transaction had not gone unnoticed—two silent observers had seen their meeting and overheard nearly every word.

When Wickham’s informant relayed what he had heard spoken that morning, Wickham’s smirk deepened with satisfaction. “That is even better than I had originally planned,” he said. “We can take them both, and Darcy will be forced to watch as I steal his intended from him.” His tone dripped with malice as he issued his orders. “Gather the others and have them report to my tent within the hour. After that, the four of us will take our turn searching. Mark my words—we will find an opportunity far more profitable than simply hunting down this Mr. Bennet. May he rot in hell along with Darcy.”

Before long, Wickham and his men had devised their plan. They would make their way to the cottage and use the ample cover surrounding it to hide. When Darcy and Elizabeth dismounted from their horses, they would strike.

But unbeknownst to those inside, Cunliffe and one of the other Runners stood just outside the tent, listening intently. The thin canvas did little to muffle sound, and Wickham and his accomplices, confident that no one would be about in the middle of the afternoon, made no effort to lower their voices. Every detail of their scheme—every plan, every expectation, every careless boast—reached their ears with ease.

As the conspirators raised their glasses in a toast to their impending success and inevitable reward, the Runners merely watched. When they had heard enough, they slipping away unnoticed, gathering reinforcements. When the time came, those who sought to do harm would be met with justice instead. Wickham and his men might believe they were the hunters, but before long, they would find themselves the prey.

A note arrived at Longbourn to inform Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam that all was ready. Horses were saddled for Darcy and Elizabeth. Although Bennet might have suggested a footman accompany them, it was decided not to risk the conspirators harming another person or forcing them to change their plans because of something unexpected occurring.

With some little hesitation, mostly on the part of Darcy, who was unwilling to risk Elizabeth in this way, the engaged couple mounted their horses and began to make their way towards the western edge of Netherfield. They did not rush, and the first part of their ride was enjoyable, if a little tense. Elizabeth gently teased Darcy, forcing him to be more companionable than he might have been, since she enabled him to take his mind off what was to occur that afternoon, at least for a time.

However, the closer they grew to the cottage, the quieter the couple became. Even Elizabeth was noticeably anxious, and while she attempted to make it appear that it was merely concern for her brother, both she and Darcy knew that it was for a very different reason.

After dismounting from his horse, Darcy assisted Elizabeth down before tying both horses loosely to a nearby tree branch. They approached the cottage with care, and even knowing what was to occur, were surprised when a voice called out, “Halt!”

They both turned, and Elizabeth leaned into Darcy for support. He pressed a brief kiss to her forehead as he moved to put Elizabeth’s body behind him to protect her.

“Wickham,” Darcy growled when he finally laid eyes on the man. He had not seen him since that summer and was surprised that he appeared gaunt, and his eyes were hard.

“Darcy,” Wickham said with a smirk, pointing his pistol at his former friend. “It is a pleasure to see you, old friend. A pleasure for me, at least since I will do what I had hoped to do this summer. Perhaps it is not quite the same as marrying Georgiana, but I suspect that having the woman you love married to me might be even more painful for you. You will have to live with the idea that you cannot marry the one you wanted and will have a far less pleasing wife as a result. If I am not mistaken, you will not remain unmarried for long.”

“What do you intend to do, Wickham?” he asked loudly. “You have never been able to beat me in honourable ways and always had to descend to less worthy methods. You will kidnap my bride? To what purpose? Elizabeth cannot marry you, not when she married me this very morning.”

“What do you mean?” Wickham snapped. “How could you have married without the banns being called?”

Darcy smiled. “We were married in the church this morning by common license. It is not unheard of, is it? It seems my friend Bennet had a—let us call it a premonition that something was not right—and requested a common license some days ago. In fact, it was issued on the day before I asked Elizabeth for her hand in marriage, and it was valid to be used this morning. The rector did not question our need for haste, knowing that Mr. Bennet was presently missing, and hearing all the gossip in town about her so-called engagement to that fool Collins, along with all the speculation about her inheritance.

“She can marry me if you are dead, Darcy,” Wickham said, moving towards the couple, his glare so heated it could melt ice. “Why can you not ever make things easy? First, it was the living after your father died. He gave me so little, and when I asked for just a little more, you could not grant me what I wanted. When that was not enough for what I needed, you refused the living when it became vacant. Had I married Georgiana, I would have been set for life, but, no, once again you prevented me from obtaining what I desired, what I deserved.

“Since you have stood in my way one too many times, I will take this final thing from you. I will take your wife, and I daresay I will do so before you could have consummated your vows. I will wed her and bed her—not necessarily in that order—and as she was your wife, that means that Pemberley will be mine. Pemberley, along with whatever else this chit may come with, for I will ensure there is no settlement before we are wed. You are far too noble not to have done so already, so I know that you would have ensured your wife was well provided for, even if she had come to you with little.”

With Wickham’s attention solely on Darcy, he did not notice the other men who had come out of hiding, nor had he noticed Colonel Fitzwilliam stealthily approaching from behind him, his sword in his hand.

“You cannot marry my cousin’s wife if you are dead, Wickham,” Fitzwilliam said, his voice hard. “Even if you were to somehow get a shot off and injure my cousin, you would be dead long before he. I doubt your aim has improved in all these years.” He laughed, the sound harsh. “That, and it will be difficult to kill a man with an unloaded weapon. You never did pay attention to details, Little Wicky, and did not notice that your pistol was lighter than it ought to have been. My men removed the bullet last night, and you have been carrying around an empty weapon all day.”

Like the fool he was, Wickham turned his gun towards the colonel. However, when he pulled the trigger, nothing happened. Tossing the gun aside, he reached for his scabbard, intending to pull his sword.

“A mistake, Wickham,” the colonel declared, before stabbing his sword in Wickham’s right arm. Wickham released his hold on the sword’s hilt and howled in pain.

The injury was not deep, nor particularly life threatening, but deliberately done to incapacitate. Fitzwilliam had sliced the muscle in his forearm, making it impossible for Wickham to grip anything. One of the militiamen who were there to arrest Wickham wrapped a clean handkerchief around the wound which immediately needed another, and finally, a length of cloth was found to wrap it more tightly.

Wickham was shackled then, with little attention paid to the wound. No one there cared how much Wickham complained about being in pain, including the men who had been blackmailed into assisting him. In fact, the men did not hesitate to tell those arresting Wickham every detail they knew of the plans for that day or for the kidnapping of Mr. Bennet.

In a remarkably short time, Wickham was restrained and unceremoniously tossed atop his horse. His position was far from comfortable, made worse by the pain in his injured arm and the indignity of being trussed up like a piece of baggage.

Darcy pulled Elizabeth into his embrace once all the men were gone. “That is one danger eliminated, Elizabeth,” he said, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“Yes, quite possibly the most dangerous one,” Elizabeth said. “At least Miss Bingley is no longer a threat to you, for you cannot have two wives, which makes you no longer available to marry her. I simply hate that our courtship has been rushed, and that those we might have wished to attend our wedding could not. My sister will need to hold a grand wedding breakfast in a few days to celebrate with everyone.”

“After we have dealt with the others,” Darcy replied, “I look forward to taking you home to Pemberley, if for no other reason than to have you no longer living in the same county as those who wish you harm.”

Elizabeth smiled at him. “There are more who like me than hate me, but the two who wish me ill have taken up quite a bit of our time and attention of late. Tell me, my dear, how shall we announce our marriage to both those who will wish us well and those who will scream in frustration that all their plans have been in vain?”

“Must we?” Darcy asked, his voice verging on a whine. “Now that you are my wife, I wish to have you to myself for a time. Yet, thanks to Mrs. Bennet and Miss Bingley, I am continually denied that pleasure. It is one more reason to despise them.”

His petulant tone and expression drew a laugh from Elizabeth. “There is nothing pressing that remains to be done today, sir, and I am in dire need of rest after so many days of anxiety. Perhaps you ought to escort me home—and to your suite of rooms there. Yours are larger, farther from the family wing, and there is little chance of interruption.” She cast him a playful—and she hoped suggestive—glance. “Unless, of course, you would prefer to remain here and sulk a little longer.”

Darcy needed no further encouragement. With a determined gleam in his eye, he scooped Elizabeth into his arms and carried her to where their horses waited. Setting her gently in the saddle, he took a moment to ensure she was secure before mounting his own horse.

“Is it to be a race then, sir?” Elizabeth teased, flashing him a mischievous smile before spurring her horse forward into a canter.

Darcy sat frozen for half a second, caught between astonishment and admiration, before setting off in swift pursuit. He vowed to himself that once he caught her, he would not let her escape again so easily from his grasp.