Mr. Darcy's Forbidden Love-kindle (49 page)

Kent
Rosings
Lady Catherine’s study

Half asleep, having been awakened early, Wickham yawned into the sleeve of his expensive coat. Getting a whiff of the garment, he winced at the foul smell now emanating from his once impressive attire.  Obliged to sleep on a small pile of hay in the corner of the stables upon his arrival last night, he now questioned whether it had been as clean as the liveryman claimed. He had expected to stay in one of the rooms set aside for the grooms at the least, but he found himself unceremoniously shown to the stables, without even so much as a blanket. Lady Catherine would certainly hear of his displeasure.

Lady Catherine,
he mused.
Why does even the thought of that woman cause my stomach to lurch? It is she who should fear me!

His thoughts were interrupted as that very individual walked heavily into the room, her ever-present cane marking the cadence. Only this time, she did not take her place behind the huge, imperious desk. Instead, she stopped several feet away from where he stood and studied him with an expression that made his blood run cold. His self-assurance vanished at the sight of her. It was obvious that she was enraged.

“And just what are you doing at Rosings? You should be well on the way to Gretna Green with my niece.”

“I—my plans were foiled.”

“Foiled!” She slammed the cane to the floor, causing him to jump. Then she punctuated all she had to say with additional thumps as her voice got louder. “Foiled! You mean you failed me again, do you not! I should have known a man like you would never succeed in making Georgiana think she was in love!”

“I was successful in keeping company with Georgiana, but I was unable to convince her to elope with me. That little chit insisted that she would have to have her brother’s permission to marry! Can you imagine a young woman of this day and age with no mind of her own?”

“Yes, I most certainly can imagine it—especially if she has been reared by my nephew and my sister! Did you expect her to toss aside everything she has been taught and leave without believing herself in love?” She began to pace. “I was a fool to think you capable of handling something this important. Were you so stupid as to have no alternative plan?”

“I had always intended to take her by force if she would not go willingly. However, just as I abducted her, a troupe of redcoats came down the boardwalk and—”

The Mistress of Rosings used her walking stick to sweep everything off a nearby table. An exquisite china vase flew to the floor, shattering in numerous pieces and causing an enormous racket. Rapid footsteps in the hallway were evidence of her servant’s efforts to locate the source of the disturbance. Even so, Wickham’s attention was riveted to the irate old woman as she slowly came towards him. He swallowed hard.

“Silence, you liar! I am not to be trifled with, and I do not accept your account! I have no doubt that there were no soldiers about to hinder. You tried to force her and were thwarted.” At his silent nod, she continued. “Who was it that found you out?”

“That interfering sister of yours, Lord Landingham and a young woman who has been in their company of late. It was the woman who first noticed me with Georgiana on the beach and came down to investigate. She drew the other’s attention to us.”

“My sister saw your face? She can identify you?”

“Unfortunately, she did.”

“And Landingham as well?”

Wickham coughed, hesitant to tell the worst of it. “He did. As it is, he almost intercepted me before I… I shot him.”

“Shot him? You killed a member of the House of Lords?”

“It seems that I only wounded him, as I saw him getting up as I entered the pathway to my coach.”

Uncharacteristically, Lady Catherine’s face became ashen, and she sat down in a nearby chair, rubbing her face with her hands. “You imbecile! All of England will be searching for you. And what will happen if word circulates that I was involved? My brother will most likely cast me into Bedlam to save face.”

“With your help, I shall escape England, and no one shall be the wiser.”

Her head came up sharply. “So you are here for more of my money. I should have known you would return penniless.”

“I simply need enough to purchase passage on a ship to the Americas and enough funds to stay hidden until it is time to sail. I will need disguises—different clothes, a wig or two—and money for lodging. Shall we say two thousand pounds?”

“Two thousand pounds! It would be less expensive to have you killed!”

“I took into account your logic, and that is why I have left letters explaining our
unique
relationship with one of my associates. He has pledged to deliver them to the Earl of Matlock and Fitzwilliam Darcy should I be “
tucked up with a spade
.”
11
Wickham smirked at the stunned expression on her face. “I see that you are familiar with the term. So suppose you just hand over the money and credit the excess to assuring my silence.”

Lady Catherine considered him for several moments, her scowl deepening. “I suppose I have no choice. But this is the last farthing you shall ever get from me, and if you are caught and implicate me, I will do everything in my power to discredit you and see you hang.”

The feeling is mutual, I assure you.

“Do not worry. No one will find me, and I shall be in distant lands before they realise I am no longer in England.”

“You have given me your assurances before, and they have all come to naught. Why should I believe you now?”

“This time I have no choice.”

Lady Catherine stood to leave. “And the next time you appear on my doorstep, I shall have no choice. Keep that in mind!”

Wickham quickly added, “I also require one of the groom’s accommodations, my meals brought over from the kitchen and my pick of mounts when I leave.”

With these added demands she paused at the door and fixed him with a frosty stare. “Return to the stables. It may take a day or more to get the funds.” Then lifting her head haughtily, she quitted the room.

Wickham moved to the door to watch her negotiate the long hallway, as was his habit. Her cane tapped out a familiar rhythm as she traversed the slick, polished wood covered by an occasional decorative rug.

I would consider it a stroke of luck if she fell and broke her neck after I leave for London.

As she faded out of sight, he slowly found his way through the house and out the back door to the stables.

~~~*~~~

Gatesbridge Manor
Elizabeth’s Bedroom

Alfreda paced all the while Elizabeth whittled around the lock on the shutter that covered the window. Using the knife she kept hidden in her trunk at her father’s insistence, she had hoped to loosen the latch and force it open. However, it was going very slowly as the wood was solid oak.

“Oh, Elizabeth, I am so sorry for bringing you here,” Alfreda moaned for the hundredth time. “Brother will likely come back before we escape.”

“Hush!” Elizabeth said with exasperation. “There is no time for that kind of talk.”

It was taking all her efforts to work on the latch, as they had been up all night and she was tired. Nevertheless, her mind was never far from the madman who could return at any second.

~~~*~~~

Previously

Earlier that night, Alfreda had entered Elizabeth’s bedroom through a panel in wall. Intrigued, she had peered into the dark hallway as Alfreda explained that this was a network that wound throughout the house and the servants used them to access the rooms. Alfreda declared it would be their route to freedom.

All of a sudden, it became clear to Elizabeth that this could explain the nights when she had awakened with the strange feeling that someone was in the room. The thought that it could have been John Wilkens repulsed her, but she had no time to dwell on that as Alfreda was frantically urging her to pack a bag.

All had been in vain, though, for hardly two minutes later, Wilkens had come through the same entrance, and it was obvious that he was drunk. Alfreda tried to stand her ground against the onslaught of her brothers’ accusations and anger, but it had served no purpose.

“Brother!” she exclaimed stepping between him and Elizabeth, “How did—” Quickly, she hushed.

“How did I know that you would defy me and go straight to Miss Bennet? Because, I am no fool!” He grabbed hold of a bed post to steady himself. “Your attitude has changed since she came to Gatesbridge. Your sympathy lies with her, not me. And it was simple enough to realise how you would get into her room. I had only to place a servant on the other end of the hall to await the sight of your candle.”

“I meant my assistance to Miss Elizabeth to help you as well, John. Holding her in this manner is certain to result in disaster. Our aunt will never tolerate it, and her friend, Lady Ashcroft, is expecting Miss Elizabeth at Hawthorne Hall in the morning. She is to travel back to London with them. And need I mention that Lord Landingham is in their party?  I pray you, abandon this madness and let her go!”

Wilkens was not to be reasoned with, and at that point, he had shoved her aside to confront the one he considered his greatest betrayer—Elizabeth. The smell of his body odour and brandy-soaked breath made her nauseous as he stood inches from her face.

“You mean to throw me over just like the rest of those whores in the
ton
!” He spat out, staggering to stay upright as he threw his hands up in exasperation. “Little Miss High-and-Mighty! Who are you to refuse me, the Earl of Hampton?” As she tried to back away, he grabbed her forearms. “You are of no consequence. I could take you here and now, and no one would lift a finger against me, not even my mousey little sister. Then you would be mine, regardless.”

Breaking free of his unsteady grip, Elizabeth’s courage rose, and she stood tall, declaring, “You are the one who is of no consequence! You are a filthy man who is not worthy of the title or the wealth you possess, and you are certainly not worthy of me.”

As he growled and lunged towards her, he lost his balance and fell flat on his face. Cursing, he struggled to get back on his feet by clinging to a table. That was when Elizabeth seized the opportunity to run to the small trunk that she had brought from home. Opening it, she quickly found the hunting knife that was always inside and gripped it fiercely as she turned to face him. Her heart was beating furiously, but she did not let him see her discomposure.

“If you come near me, you shall find out that I am neither afraid of you nor helpless.”

Bleary eyed, Wilkens stood deathly still as he tried to gauge whether or not to call her bluff. A threat had always sufficed to make Alfreda fall in line, so he was taken aback by this petite woman standing her ground. Feeling the inside pocket of his coat, he realised that his pistol was still on his desk. Elizabeth blurred into two people and then back into one, a result of all the liquor in his system, and he wisely decided to wait. 

“To the devil with your threats! Once I am sober, you shall learn to fear me!”

With that ominous warning, he cast a blistering look at his sister before stumbling back into the servant’s hallway and making a show of securing the door from the other side. They could hear him bump into the walls in his haste to leave.

Afterwards, Elizabeth had answered Alfreda’s anxious expression with a wan smile. “Let us find a way of escape from this prison before he comes to his senses.”

Thus they had broken a window, using a blanket to muffle the noise and then removed the glass and unlocked it. After accomplishing that, Elizabeth had begun using the knife to whittle the wood away from the latch that held the shutter. That shutter was the only obstacle standing between them and freedom, as Alfreda assured her that her brother would not have thought to lock all the doors that led onto the balcony. Once they were free, they could slip through the house using the back passages. Alfreda would then ask Mr. Drummond, the liveryman, to drive them to Hawthorne Hall. She was certain that her aunt would let the old servant work for her if he helped them to escape. Under her aunt’s protection, he would be in no danger of reprisal.

~~~*~~~

Now that several hours had passed, however, and though Elizabeth had made some progress, the lock still held. With the shutters covering the windows, there was no way of knowing if it was near daylight, but she imagined it was. She also wondered what would happen if they could not escape. Would Lady Ashcroft keep her promise not to leave Ramsgate without her? And, if so, would she come to Gatesbridge Manor to find out why she had not come?

Taking a minute to rest and wipe the perspiration from her brow, Elizabeth said a little prayer and then began again with renewed vigour.

~~~*~~~

Hawthorne Hall
The foyer
The next day

The mistress of the house stood tall and regal, or as tall as the petite woman could while she waited at the base of the stairs for those who were about to depart her home for London. Reflecting on the many wonderful times she had shared with her friend, Lady Ashcroft, Violet Hawthorne smiled in spite of herself. They shared a great deal in common.

Each had married men who loved them and whom they had loved. Both had lost children through miscarriage and been widowed at a young age, left alone to govern large estates. Each had charted her own course through the waters of the
ton
and neither backed down from a fight nor suffered fools gladly. Perhaps, she reflected, that was why they had become fast friends years ago, despite the vast difference in their ages. Audrey’s behaviour yesterday served to cement her favourable opinion of the younger woman. Though she could have, Audrey had not left it to Lord Landingham to confront the gallery owner, but had actively participated. That had earned her even more of Lady Hawthorne’s esteem.

Her mind thus occupied, Violet did not notice when her friend appeared at the top of the stairs, followed by her niece, Georgiana, and began to descend the ornate staircase. Jarred from her recollections when they came into sight, Lady Hawthorne enquired, “Where is Lord Landingham? Has he changed his mind?”