Unforgiving Temper (61 page)

Contemplation of Elizabeth's regard led to
pleasant thoughts of a wedding ceremony of their own, which soon
led to thoughts of Bingley's marriage and the appearance of the
Wickhams. Their arrival at the wedding this morning had been a
shocking surprise. Gazing out the window to Longbourn's dormant
gardens, Darcy reflected on his earlier exchange with an equally
surprised Denham.

“He was here?! I do not understand,” the
mortified valet had uttered in response to the demand for an
explanation. “Regular reports have been coming in from our contact
in Newcastle. There was not the slightest indication the Wickhams
were planning a journey.”

“Well, obviously someone was remiss in their
duties! The Wickhams showed up at the wedding this morning without
the slightest warning. I am paying good money for exactly this kind
of intelligence!” Darcy had snapped impatiently. There was no
excuse for failure when it came to Wickham. “Find out how this
happened. I do not want any more surprises – and get someone to
find out where Wickham is now. He is far too conniving for me to
trust anything he says!”

“Yes, sir, right away.” Denham had stammered
at the fierce reproach. Darcy knew it was not his man's fault, but
the idea that Wickham had slipped away from Newcastle completely
unnoticed, especially with a wife such as Lydia Wickham in tow, was
intolerable. It had taken him too long to piece together what
information he had of Elizabeth's forced separation from her
family. He was determined to find the connection to Aunt Catherine
in this affair, and he knew Wickham was the key. He couldn't afford
to lose track of them now.

Lost in his thoughts of the past months'
events, it took a moment before he realized the Bennets' manservant
was addressing him.

John cleared his throat a little louder to be
heard above the chatter in the room. “Mr. Darcy? I beg your
pardon for the intrusion, sir, but your valet is asking to see you.
What shall I tell him?”

“Denham is here? Where is he?”

“He is waiting in the back hallway, sir.
Shall I take you there?”

“No, I think not. Please tell him to meet me
at the stables. I shall be there directly.”

Darcy slowly moved away from the window,
offered a brief greeting to Sir William Lucas, then slipped quietly
from the room, glad to be away from the curious stares that had
been frequently cast in his direction since his exchange with
Elizabeth. It was Bingley's day and he had done enough already to
excite speculation.

Once away from the house, Darcy quickened his
steps, wondering what news awaited him. Rounding the corner of the
large stone outbuilding, Darcy was met immediately by his anxious
valet.

“My apologies for interrupting you at the
wedding, sir, but you said you wanted to be informed immediately of
any news regarding Mr. Wickham. I've received a message from
Newcastle. It is three days old as it was first sent to Pemberley.
Mrs. Reynolds sent it forward by express rider, of course, but it
only just arrived. I came as quickly as I could.”

“If it is to tell me that Wickham is headed
this way, it comes too late.”

“It is that, of course, but there is more.
Lieutenant Wickham's claim that he is on assignment is untrue. He
has deserted his post.”

“Hmm,” Darcy considered the news for a
moment. “If Wickham has deserted, why expose himself to the risk of
being discovered by attending the wedding?”

“I cannot say, sir. However, the report also
says that he had come into an inheritance of some sort recently and
was making plans to retire to the continent or even the
Americas.”

“Inheritance? He has no family that could
provide anything of consequence. I wonder what he is up to now. Is
there any news of his whereabouts?”

“No, sir; not yet. The couple were traced as
far as Hatfield and then disappeared. I have several men out
looking.”

“Very well. Let me know the moment you have
any new information. In the meantime, I shall keep an eye on the
Bennets. Wickham has proved himself capable of almost
anything.”

Still mulling over Denham's report, Darcy
returned to the house. He would need to be on guard for any signs
of what Wickham might be planning. Discreetly, he made his way back
to the drawing room and took up his previous position near the
windows. His first thought was to resume his observations of
Elizabeth, but when he looked for her next to Mrs. Collins, he
found instead her sister, Maria. A quick sweep of the crowded room
revealed she was not there. Perhaps she had gone into one of the
other rooms. With growing concern Darcy began moving in that
direction, until a startled look from Mrs. Collins arrested his
progress.

“Mr. Darcy! You are back so soon?”

“So soon, Mrs. Collins?”

“Why, yes.” Charlotte's perplexed expression
did not help Darcy's rising panic. “Lizzy said she was going to
meet with you and I had not thought it enough time to do so.”

Darcy stared in dismay. “With me?”

“Well, I…I mean,” Charlotte stammered in
embarrassment as she tried to explain. “Bess, one of the
Netherfield maids, brought a message. I did not hear everything,
but your name was mentioned. Lizzy supposed you changed your mind
and wished to meet with her now instead of tomorrow. She left with
Bess not ten minutes ago. Is something wrong?”

“Forgive me, but I cannot say at present.
Please do not give it another thought.” Looking up, Darcy saw Mr.
Collins’ face light up at the sight of his wife talking to someone
of consequence. “Please excuse me. I must go and I believe
Mr. Collins is looking for you.”

Charlotte hesitated, then followed Darcy's
gaze with an understanding nod. After a brief curtsey, she turned
to intercept her husband before he could impose himself. Darcy
watched her go, grateful to find that, if nothing else, she was a
sensible woman.

Skirting the obsequious greeting of
Mr. Collins, Darcy hurried into the hallway, hoping to find
John close by; but another several frustrating minutes passed
before he located the manservant near the kitchen.

Hailing the man, Darcy beckoned him to the
door of a side room. “Might I have a word with you – John, is
it?”

“Yes, sir – it is,” answered John haltingly.
“Is something amiss, Mr. Darcy?”

“I am looking for Miss Bennet and was
told she was with one of the maids from Netherfield. Have you seen
them?”

“I saw them leave about quarter of an hour
ago.”

“Did you happen to see where they went?”

“No, sir. I was called to assist Mrs. Hill.
Shall I see if they have returned?”

“I already know Miss Bennet has not, but
if you can find out if the maid has, I should like to speak with
her directly.”

“Of course, sir, right away.”

Several more minutes ticked by, driving Darcy
to distraction. Something was wrong, very wrong. Every fiber of his
being cried out for immediate action, but he needed information. He
knew he had to have some kind of direction or he would never find
Elizabeth in time. At last John returned.

“I'm sorry, sir, Bess has not returned. One
of the scullery maids said that she saw her walking with
Miss Bennet across the east lawns.”

Darcy's mind raced with the possibilities of
what happened. Coupled with the latest news from Newcastle, Wickham
was sure to have a hand in it!

“Ahem – Mr. Darcy?” John interposed
hesitantly. “Should I inform Mr. Bennet?”

Darcy paused, thinking what the excitement
might do to the still fragile patriarch. It was risky, but he could
not withhold his suspicions from Elizabeth's father. “Yes, John,
please do so. And Mr. Bingley as well. Tell them I suspect
Miss Bennet has gone missing and I am going east to search for
her. If I do not find her, I shall circle around to the road south
of Meryton. Be as discreet as possible, but inform them at
once.”

“I shall, sir, right away!” John's own
concern was evident as he gave a curt nod and quickly turned in
search of his master.

Darcy did not waste a single moment. Making a
dash back to the stables, he reached the place where Denham had
tethered his horse just in time to see the valet step into the
stirrups. It was an animal of average quality; nothing like the
high-spirited thoroughbred he had ridden on from Pemberley, but
Hermes was stabled at Netherfield and this one would have to
do.

“Denham, I need your horse, quickly!
Miss Bennet is gone!”

Scrambling to comply, Denham swiftly
dismounted, and in two strides, Darcy swung into the saddle,
settling in for a hard, fast ride.

“Mr. Darcy, is it wise to go alone?”

“It cannot be helped. If I wait for the
others, I may be too late. She is on foot and with any luck, I
shall overtake her.”

“But, sir – ” Denham's next words died in his
throat as he watched his master race away.

Darcy was already urging the horse out of
Longbourn's stable yard and eastward, across the lawns, spurred on
by a grave foreboding. Reaching open ground, he flicked the horse
into a run, praying with all his might he would find Elizabeth
before Wickham did.

* * * *

Elizabeth kept a steady pace beside Bess as
they hurried toward the small grove of trees that lay just to the
east of Longbourn. The girl was the daughter of one of Sir Lucas'
tenants, and had only recently been fortunate enough to gain a
position at Netherfield. It had been a very good thing for the
large, struggling family as Bess' wages would go a long way in
helping make ends meet at home. Her delivering Mr. Darcy's
request in the middle of Jane's wedding celebration had been
somewhat of a surprise to Elizabeth given that they had already
settled on an interview for the next morning; but then she recalled
the ardent look upon his face that had stirred her senses each time
she happened to look at him. Shaking herself from the titillating
thought, she worked to hide her blush from Bess. Mr. Darcy's
recently impulsive behavior was beginning to make her think she did
not know him as well as she thought – a condition she would be only
too happy to correct in the years to come.

They had reached the trees and were
progressing further into the grove when Elizabeth finally spoke.
“Where exactly did Mr. Darcy say he wished to meet?”

“In the glen, Miss. Just down the way a
bit.”

“Oh, yes, of course.” Elizabeth's heart
quickened. She was pleased Mr. Darcy would consider her love
of nature in deciding the setting for his declaration, for she was
certain that was the purpose of this meeting. She also knew he was
a private man and it served to keep his proposal from the many
prying eyes that were sure to be lurking outside Longbourn's
drawing room door in the morning. An impulsive proposal in the glen
was very romantic, another aspect of Mr. Darcy's character she
had not known.

Lost in thought and keeping her eyes on the
uneven ground beneath her feet, Elizabeth did not see the growing
glint of satisfaction in Bess' eye. It was only when they finally
reached the glen that she realized the girl's treachery.

“Good morning, Elizabeth.”

Elizabeth froze at the sight of George
Wickham coming toward her. In the next instant, she whirled and
started to run, but Wickham was too quick. She didn't get ten feet
before his hand came down on her back, knocking her to the ground.
She lay stunned by the impact until Wickham grabbed her arm and
pulled her to her feet.

“Is that any way to greet your own brother?”
Wickham sneered mockingly, then turned to Bess. “Here you go, my
love. Ten pounds, as promised.”

Deftly catching the pouch of coins, the girl
smiled coyly. “Thank you, George. Is there anythin' else you'd be
wanting?”

Elizabeth stared in shocked horror. “Bess!
What have you done?”

“I would think you could see fer yourself! I
got me a nice little sum to go to London where I aim to find even
more.”

“How could you!” Elizabeth's anger flared.
“After all your parents have done for you – what Mr. Bingley
has done for you!”

“Bess has much grander plans for herself than
to be a housemaid all her life, don't you, my girl?” Wickham
offered.

“That's right! No more sweepin' floors and
dustin' furniture for me! I work my fingers to the bone only to
have me pa take it from me. Well, no more! I can make much more out
o' my life in London. George helped me to see that, didn't ya,
Sweets.”

“It is a terrible lie, Bess! He is using you.
He thinks only of himself, no one else.” Elizabeth curbed her anger
as she tried to coax the girl. “It is not too late. You can do more
for yourself by telling my father what has happened. You can stop
this!”

“And stay in this backwater village the rest
o' my life? I don't think so.” Bess reached up to Wickham, tracing
his cheek with her finger and then kissed him soundly on the mouth.
It was obvious she had been one of his conquests.

Furious at such a shameless betrayal
Elizabeth reached out, wanting to shake some sense into the girl.
Wickham quickly wrapped his arms around her in a restraining
embrace. “Now, now. Is that any way for a lady to act? You had best
be on your way, Bess.”

“Be sure to look me up when you get to town,”
Bess murmured as she gave Elizabeth once last disdainful look and
then turned away.

“And now, my dear Elizabeth, we must be off.
Your sister is waiting.”

“Lydia? Where is she?”

“She is waiting in the carriage. I have
something special in store for the two of you.”

Without warning, Wickham picked Elizabeth up,
swung her over his shoulder, and began carrying her deeper into the
woods with long, swift strides. Panicked and horrified, she beat
her fists against him. Hanging up-side down across his back, her
head pounded with the rush of blood and she felt her breath forced
from her with every step. In a very few moments, they were
swallowed up in a thick tangle of evergreen vines, bare branches,
and dead leaves.