The Trouble With Horses: A Pride & Prejudice Novella Variation (9 page)

“Mary!” she shouted, and rushed to her sister's side to hold the poor woman who had come most valiantly to her defense.

“I'm alright, truly.”

Elizabeth shook her head and pulled her into an embrace as Mary began to quietly sob. She held her there as Mr. Darcy called his carriage and as the equipage appeared, Elizabeth pulled back to gently stroke Mary's face.

“What were you thinking to lunge like that? You could have been gravely injured.”

Mary sniffed and looked up at her older sister before attempting a poor half smile since her face hurt so. “I would have gladly offered him the other cheek as well if they hadn't dragged him away.”

For once, Mary's penchant for quoting the Bible made Elizabeth laugh and she gave her sister another hug as Mr. Darcy assisted her into the carriage.

As the coach wound its way through the busy city streets, Elizabeth sneaked a glance at Mr. Darcy sitting on the bench next to the maid. His expression was dark and gloomy as he looked out the window at increasingly less fashionable areas of town.

Dozens of woeful thoughts crossed her mind as the ride was mostly silent. Her mouth still sore from where Wickham had attacked her person, though not nearly as injured as Mary's cheek, brought back to her mind that she was utterly ruined. First the gossip at home, and now she wasn't even a respectable woman in her aunt and uncle's household. The grief of losing the last shred of her dignity weighed heavily and her chest began to shake with dry sobs. She adamantly refused to cry and instead hugged her arms to her chest to try to contain her emotion.

Darcy looked over as Miss Elizabeth clearly seemed agitated and he renewed his self-flagellation for being so powerless to protect her. It was his fault that vile creature targeted her, and he was too dull to even realize what a mess he had made of her reputation. As the carriage slowed, indicating they were close to the address of her relations, Darcy was at a loss to explain how he came to escort the ladies home and why they were attacked in the first place.

Doffing his hat, he helped first Miss Elizabeth and then Miss Mary down from the carriage, now noticing the torn pieces of Miss Elizabeth's gown and large red mark on Miss Mary's cheek.

The door to the town home flew open as Mr. Gardiner rushed out to collect his nieces.

“My God! What happened?”

Darcy bowed and introduced himself, first to no reaction from Mr. Gardiner and then a sudden negative reaction as the man looked as if he wanted to spit upon him. Darcy was taken aback.

“You! You're the man who has toyed with our dear Lizzie!”

“Peace, Uncle.” Elizabeth interjected, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Why don't we all go in and then we can discuss today's events. I am still a bit curious about all that has happened myself and I witnessed it firsthand!” Elizabeth tried to raise everyone's spirits as she helped poor Mary into the home.

Leaving the gentlemen downstairs, Lizzie called for another maid to help see to Mary's care and walked her sister to their shared guestroom. Once she tucked Mary in, Elizabeth caught her appearance in the looking glass and was abhorred. The shoulder of her gown was ripped, and it would be unseemly for her to return to the gentlemen in such a state.

Pinning her hair after she removed her gown, Elizabeth pulled out her cream muslin with the apricot rosettes along the shoulder that had arrived just that morning. She had planned to wear the smart gown to the evening of opera her uncle had planned next week, but she was certain once Mr. Darcy told Uncle Gardiner about how Wickham kissed her, she'd be lucky to step two toes out of the house, let alone attend a performance. No matter what she had done, or had not done, it was always the woman's shame to bear.

Satisfied her appearance matched her fiercest spirit within, Elizabeth gave Mary a kiss on the forehead as the maid had just helped her finish a cup of medicated tea.

Borrowed from Jane's book of sisterly affection, Elizabeth locked eyes with Mary's fearful ones and said in a very careful voice “Everything shall be put to rights. You'll see.”

Straightening her gown just one last time, Elizabeth descended the stairs with her chin perfectly straight and her back elegantly postured. Darcy rose from his seat in the sitting room as soon as he saw her reach the landing, his breath caught in his chest at her beauty.

Elizabeth smiled at Mr. Darcy, hoping to have one last kind memory of the man before she was truly certain he would be leaving her life forever more. Her smile spurred Mr. Darcy to action.

“Miss Elizabeth, I cannot say how ashamed and guilt stricken I am about everything that has happened. From the gossip in Meryton to today's attack, the fault is mine and I dearly wish I could erase it all.”

Elizabeth looked around, confused to not see her Uncle in the room or hall. Bewildered that she and Mr. Darcy would be left alone, he noticed her study of the situation and continued.

“Your Uncle and I spoke while you tended to Miss Mary. He agreed to give me a few moments alone with you. If you please?” He motioned to the sofa where she could sit with him.

Her feet moved with leaden speed as she felt unable to reconcile the situation she was in with the situation she planned to be in just moments ago. “Mr. Darcy, I —”

“I'm fearful that if I stop what I mean to say another sick twist of Fate will ruin my last chance for a happy and fulfilled life.” His eyes glazed over and quickly he looked away.

“You are too kind, madam, for a rogue like myself. My God, had I only known! I've been on my own for so long, I take it for granted that everything is under my good regulation and control, that I am a man of my own destiny. And yet Destiny was kind enough to cross my path with yours and fought my terrible judgment to ignore your beauty, and wit, and most of all pure charity to others.”

Elizabeth's eyes widened. Mr. Darcy had gone mad! The man was not making any sense if he was getting to the subject she thought he might.

“No, stop! There is nothing that can be gained from this line of conversation Mr. Darcy! I am ruined. Utterly ruined.” Elizabeth stood up from the sofa and clenched her fists by her sides.

“Is that your final word then?” He looked blankly at her with the fire of the sun in his eyes and Elizabeth refused to yield.
For his sake
, she justified in her mind.

“Yes. You cannot seek a future with me. Not out of kindness of my position for the acts I performed to save your life, and certainly not after what happened today.”

Darcy looked at the woman before him, so slender in frame, a full head shorter than himself and marveled at the radiance she emanated. He just wished to reach out to her, to relive those perfect moments when she sought solace in his arms.

His memories of her face leaning over him as he had wondered where he was  on that forest floor flooded back to him, as did the sensation of holding her hand. When he had done those things, he wasn't completely clear of mind, but he remembered now without a doubt it was she who saved him and no other.

Agitated, Mr. Darcy walked away from her to look out the window, relying on his much practiced skill to avoid painful situations. Situations where his shyness or others' lack of propriety damaged his confidence. Then it struck him. Words were never their strong suit, but actions spoke volumes.

“Mr. Darcy?” her small voice called out to him but his ears couldn't register the sentiment as a lion roared in his chest.

Mr. Darcy spun around and took the two steps across the carpet to stand within inches of his beloved. Calmly, and with eyes begging to be understood, he cupped his hands and slowly raised them to her face as she met them to rest her blushing cheeks in the valley they created. She was so warm, and soft. Mr. Darcy leaned forward and gently kissed her lips with the heat of a smoldering fire that had been nursed and tended for many weeks.

Rising up on her tiptoes, Elizabeth leaned into the kiss and wound her hands around his head to pull him closer. By the time they both needed to take a breath, neither pulled away and it was his husky voice that spoke first.

“Elizabeth Rose Bennet. Please, darling, don't be as foolish as me. Say you'll be my wife and together we will face anything.”

Elizabeth bit her lip prompting Darcy to lightly peck her mouth once more. “Anything?”

“Everything.”

Smiling, she initiated her first kiss on his person with a decidedly different passion, one of incessant heat that yearned for more from the mysterious unknown. Leaving him breathless, Elizabeth uttered the one word to ease both of their sufferings.

“Yes.”

~~~
♥~~~

Epilogue

Elizabeth's cold toes once more wiggled to find warmth in the covers.

“Good God woman, do you freeze them purposely to torment me so?” Fitzwilliam Darcy cried out, jerking his legs away from the frozen interloper. Listening to his young wife giggle was intoxicating as he decided to brave the cold and pull her body closer to his for a close snuggle. Sucking in his breath, he endured the adjustment as their skin melded and the two of them settled.

“I'm happy Richard is finally selling his commission. When will they be here again, next week or the week after?”

“The week after, my love. And it's only fitting since he found his heiress.” Darcy leaned in to plant soft kisses along Elizabeth's neck, trying to outlast his wife's ever reeling mind until he could distract her into something more pleasant than talking about the day. Instead, she laughed as his breath tickled.

“It doesn't count that he was already in love with Mary and you made her an heiress by settling five thousand pounds on her!”

“She earned it, for meritorious service in the aid of another.” Allowing his fingers to roam, Darcy continued to find other ways to communicate his message to his wife.

“I asked Mrs. Reynolds to freshen the Green Suite for them. Do you think Mary and Richard will be pleased?”

Groaning, Darcy released his wife and rolled over to his back. He was frustrated at his failures to distract. “I'm sure whichever suite is the furthest from your mother will be amenable to Richard as he is just married and enjoying his honeymoon.”

Elizabeth frowned. It was unfortunate that her entire family, including the Bingleys who now counted her sister Jane amongst their number, was planning to visit Pemberley for the hunting season just as Mary and Richard were to finally take their honeymoon trip to the Lakes, and then ending at the estate for a time of unknown duration.

The clock on the mantle across from the bed struck midnight and Elizabeth sat up in bed. Her husband looked up at her with one eye open, and then quickly shut it to continue to feign sleep.

“Oh wake up Mr. Darcy. Or should I say, sir?”

Waiting a moment, he suddenly awoke and tackled his wife, ignoring her squeals, and pulled her to his chest. “Sir! Sir!” he said as he tickled and caressed until she begged him to stop.

Lightly, he kissed the top of her head and reflected for a moment on how eventful this day had been just one year earlier when he was thrown from his horse. Sadly, his favorite mount grew sick last winter and had to be put down, but without that animal's intelligence and his wife's kindness, he might not be in any condition for the happy life he led now.

Sensing her husband's dark thoughts, Elizabeth looked up at him with her chin resting on his rib cage.

“William, you never told me that horse's name. He died before I came to know him properly.”

Darcy closed his eyes once more and squeezed his wife's form in affection. “Trouble. The horse's name was Trouble.”

As the clock stuck one in the morning, Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam Darcy exhausted from the fruits of loving one another slept soundly. Not with nightmares of snake attacks or Wickham's schemes, but with happy visions of a future full of love, family, and the good sense to never ride out alone again.

♥.

[Fluffer Nutter]

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Pride and Prejudice What if? s
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A Marriage Most Unkind.

The map of London spread on the cherry stained table in Fitzwilliam Darcy's study showed fatigue along the heavy crease lines dividing the city into roughly six quadrants. Notations in the meager margins blurred with street names and the two men continued to argue over their next step in a search for the wayward Georgiana Darcy.

"Here. Right here." Colonel Fitzwilliam, a distinguished member of His Majesty's finest, pointed with his thick, coarse fingers clenched together to underline an area's name. "If I was Wickham, I'd hightail it to within a block or two of the docks. All of the men and wares coming and going make easy marks and they'd find lodgings without a great many questions asked."

Fitzwilliam Darcy walked away from the table and map and collapsed into an arm chair near the fireplace. His lanky frame crumpled, denigrating his noble upbringing to always stand tall in the face of challenge, as he rested his elbows upon his knees. His hands molded the tired skin around his eyes and his sagging cheeks from weeks of little to no sleep as he and his cousin pursued his sister. If only his horse hadn't thrown a shoe and he had arrived just one day earlier at Ramsgate...he couldn't give up hope. Not yet. He had to believe that Wickham was keeping Georgiana well, if only for the thirty thousand pounds she was worth. Worth, that is, if they could find the couple and make them marry.

A large commotion in the hall just outside the door drew both men away from their plans and a red-faced butler opened the study door. He didn't get a single word out to announce the visitor before the Countess Matlock, Colonel Fitzwilliam's mother, entered, her face flush
 with anger.

"Richard and William! Just how far have you two bungled this situation? Why was I not informed the instant Georgiana went missing?"

The jaws of both men dropped. Richard looked at Darcy, and Darcy looked back at him. They had been so careful in their searching to not raise notice, or so they had thought.

"How did you know, Aunt?"

Margaret Fitzwilliam waved her hand dismissively at her nephew. "That is not the topic we need to discuss. I can keep this quiet for a little while longer, but you must get out of London this instance."

"No."

His aunt approached Darcy, causing him to rise from his defeated position in the chair. Though she stood a full head shorter than the great master of Pemberley and Darcy House in London, the long, pointed finger in his face showed height was no promise of intimidation.

"If you stay another day, the search for Georgiana Darcy will be confirmed. Go! Go play the wayward gentleman and visit a friend out in the country. Pretend your sister is in the capable hands
 of her tutors and you have not a care in the world about her well-being. Do so and the entire house of Matlock will not sleep until my niece is found. But if you stay...I cannot help you. I cannot help her."

Darcy looked to his cousin, more a brother in arms since they were mere lads, and sighed when his cousin gave a slight nod. Darcy raked his hands through his hair, then smoothed his mussing as he walked to his desk. Never in the five years since his father’s death had he and Richard as co-guardians of Georgiana faced such a disaster in her upbringing. The sensible side of his brain knew Aunt Margaret was an ally they needed, especially if gossip was beginning to swirl.

A pile of opened correspondence lay on the left side of his desk in a haphazard array, all social invitations for the autumn. Finding the one he was looking for, he reread it with one eye squinted and turning the paper at different angles to make out the missive. His aunt and cousin observed him in silence until his aunt could no longer keep her calm.

"For heaven's sake Darcy, whoever writes you with such an appalling hand that you must resort to theatrics to decipher the letter?"

"Bingley." Richard answered offhandedly as he skimmed the map of London once more.

"There it is!" Darcy smiled as he finally made out the name of the county he was to visit. He waved the paper in minor triumph before looking annoyed that Col. Fitzwilliam would continue the search for HIS sister without him.

Before he could say another word his aunt had stealthily moved to his side taking the letter from him with just the lightest of pulls.

"Perfect. Hertfordshire is half a day's ride away, so we will be able to send you an express as soon as we find her."

Darcy looked at his aunt with the saddest eyes she had ever seen on the young man forced to bear the weight of a great landlord at the young age of only four and twenty. "Please find her."

Without a word, she embraced him and squeezed tightly. Upon releasing the tall man, she straightened his coat. "We shall. But you must leave at first light."

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Pemberley Possibilities!