Friends and Enemies Read online

  “Yes, Mr. Bennet, you could have, but you did not,” Darcy stated blandly.

  “And I did nothing.” Elizabeth’s father shook his head at himself.

  “As is your wont, Mr. Bennet,” Darcy agreed, not giving the man an inch to ease his guilt or explain away his lack of decision. “I have recently learnt the perils of inactivity. They are dire. As for Elizabeth being yours, she is no longer. She is my Lizzy now.”

  “Then I will take those who still belong to me away and leave you in peace.” With that said, he gathered his wife, who had recovered with the use of smelling salts and Miss Kitty, who had, indeed, been pretending, along with his other two daughters. Before he walked out of the door, he looked back at his second daughter where she stood with her hand in Darcy’s.

  As her father gazed at her with a mixture of longing and loss in his eyes, Elizabeth shifted closer to Darcy until their arms touched. Breaking eye contact, she looked up at him, her message clear. In her heart, she was admitting to him she was no longer her father’s. In spite of all the bad that had happened that afternoon, he wanted to jump up and click his heels. Restraining himself, he lifted their joined hands to his lips. Mr. Bennet heaved a sigh and then departed, his family in tow.

  “I will see to my father. When my mother worries, I worry as well.” Richard returned his sword to its sheath and reached for Miss Knowlton’s hand.

  “Pray keep us informed.” He loved his Uncle Hugh, bluster and all. And he sincerely appreciated his removing Lady Catherine from his home, although hosting her would not ease the pressure on his heart. “Take the surgeon with you. I believe that is he who has arrived.”

  Richard nodded and escorted his betrothed out of the room.

  The initial sounds of silence soothed him as Georgiana directed Mrs. and Mrs. Gardiner to the library so the staff could clean the mess left behind by Wickham. For a brief moment, he and Elizabeth were alone.

  “Are you satisfied, William?” Elizabeth hesitantly asked.

  He knew she spoke of the consequences coming to Wickham. Meditating on what it would mean to have the man no longer able to cause harm to his sister and himself, he was relieved. That he could no longer do harm to others made the relief flourish until it filled him, pushing out the regrets until he was at peace.

  “I am,” he easily admitted.

  “William, I do not know if this is the appropriate time, but I feel I need to share something with you only somewhat related to the events of this afternoon.” Rarely was Elizabeth hesitant, so he gave her his full attention.

  She walked to a sofa, pulling him along behind. He waited until she sat before he joined her. Worry filled him. Was she about to break their engagement? Did she worry her life would be imperiled by becoming attached to him? Could she never learn to respect and have affection for him after seeing how long it took him to change?

  “I have been wrong about you, William,” she began. “I believed with my whole heart that you would never be a man I could marry. I admitted I did not know you well and felt you did not really know me either. Yet, seeing you act in a manner where you repeatedly put your own desires aside for the best interests of your sister has opened my eyes to the man you are inside. When you stepped in front of me, protecting me with your body, risking your life for the safety of my own, clarity overpowered me with such force it was if I had felt the impact of the bullet.”

  He sucked in his breath at the thought. “I love you, Elizabeth. I would do anything for you.”

  “And, I think…I think…” She bowed her head and took in three deep breaths. As she exhaled the third time, she lifted her eyes to his. They were filled with confidence and trust. “I love you as well, my Will. You have my heart and my soul, a gift I willingly and lovingly give. I will marry you, Fitzwilliam Darcy. I will be your wife. We will have a family and live a happy life. I love you, William. I always will.”

  He wanted to bawl he was so overcome with tender emotions towards the woman next to him. Instead, he leaned towards her and placed the lightest of kisses on her lips. He had sorted through his enemies and his friends, those he had long known and new acquaintances, to find the one woman just right for him.

  He smiled as an image of Miss Lydia Bennet on the balcony at Netherfield Park flashed through his mind. What would she say about him now?

  CHAPTER 32

  Wickham was dead.

  Richard helped himself to the brandy, remembering to pour Darcy one as well. “Are you accepting of this, Darce?”

  “I am.” Darcy paused in reflection before speaking his thoughts aloud. “I am sad he ended this way, but I feel no guilt. His decisions brought about his death, not mine.”

  Richard nodded. “And Georgie?”

  Darcy shook his head. “She cried when I told her.” He sipped his drink, his hands clutching the small glass. “I do not understand her tears, Richard. I do not understand how she can mourn him. I listened and that appeared to satisfy her because she thanked me for helping her when I merely sat on the edge of her bed and said nothing—most likely because I had not a clue what to say.”

  His cousin chuckled softly.

  Darcy sat erect in his chair. “How is your father?”

  “Unhappy,” Richard scoffed. “Your physician, whom he believes is the most incompetent promulgator of quackery in the history of medical arts, told him his heart was healthy.”

  “This is the best of news.” Darcy was confused. “And Uncle Hugh is not pleased?”

  “No, he is certain Dr. Smallwood is the smartest man in the Kingdom when it comes to matters of the heart. Nonetheless, it was when he told Father, in front of Mother mind you, that he needed to walk more than ride, quit cigars and brandy, stop eating foods with heavy sauces, and stay away from the cakes at Gunter’s Tea Shop, that he felt the man was severely ill-informed.”

  They both laughed.

  Darcy mused, “I cannot imagine having Lady Catherine there will help his cause.”

  The colonel snorted. “She challenged the doctor on every utterance. Father was in such a mood that he agreed with the physician only because he knew it upset his sister. The two of them yelled at each other for a good half an hour after Dr. Smallwood left before Mama walked in and put a stop to it.” Richard sniggered. “Mother told Lady Catherine she would be enjoying the same plates of lean meats and vegetables bereft of cream that Father would be served as long as she remained a guest at Matlock House. The brandy and sherry bottles would be removed and they would, all three of them, walk the full circuit of the park twice each day. Within minutes Lady Catherine called for her carriage and vanished from London.”

  By then, Darcy had tears in his eyes from the laughter. “What a sight that would have been to see. Though I cannot blame her when it comes to walking Hyde Park. It must be three miles around. All of them would have a hard time of it.”

  “Ha! Your mind works exactly like our aunt’s. Like you, she assumed Mama meant Hyde Park. In actuality, she was speaking of the small park adjacent to our home which will take less than ten minutes to circle.” Richard downed the rest of the amber liquid. “Although I do not care for the idea of having a wife who would nag me, I will confess I look forward to having Cecily concerned about having me around for a while.”

  “You resigned your army commission?”

  “At the turn of the calendar I will be an ordinary citizen.”

  “Hmm! I cannot imagine anyone less ordinary than you, Richard.”

  “Humph!” Richard held up his empty glass to the candlelight, twirling it slowly to see the colours hidden in the object. “Two weeks, Darce, and I will shift my command to my new home, my new bride, and my new life. When I think of what is in store, a sense of excitement fills me, similar to each time I headed into battle. I find enjoyment in anticipating the changes to my life. Perhaps by this time next year we will both be fathers with a child of our own.”

  “We can teach them to ride, climb trees, chase the sheep when nobody is looking, and how to find
the secret passageways at Pemberley,” Darcy predicted with a smile.

  “What if you have a daughter?” the colonel asked.

  “She will ride and climb trees and sneak books from the library into her room when she is supposed to be asleep, I imagine. She will be the product of both parents.” He grinned as Richard nodded in agreement.

  “Will you marry soon?” his cousin enquired.

  “The settlement should be ready by morning. The licence is in my desk. I have her uncle’s permission and her father knows my intentions. He has said nothing.” Darcy would not easily forgive Elizabeth’s father for not caring for her as he should. “We have had little time to plan, but I hope to have a date set for the first Tuesday after the new year. Are you thinking to marry soon as well?”

  “I am.”

  Within minutes, the cousins had a plan for a double wedding to take place in their London parish. They shook hands, both eager for the next morning to consult with their brides to be.

  By the time Darcy broke his fast, his sister’s constant chatter when he told her his plan to set a date left him begging for the silence of the carriage. Would he not find the same at the Gardiners’ with the passel of Bennet females in residence? He blew out a breath. Elizabeth had grown up with that level of noise, so it would be he who would have to adjust to the cacophony.

  In fundamentals, the past several weeks had changed him. He admitted to himself that he most likely had a long way to go before he fully pleased his betrothed.

  When his arrival at Gracechurch Street was announced, Darcy’s first impression was of silence. Had they left for a day at the shops? Had he missed Elizabeth? Why had she not waited? Surely, she had known he would be waiting for the appropriate time to arrive, would she not?

  Barton directed him to a small sitting room at the back of the house. He entered the room to find Elizabeth sitting with her youngest sister, both quietly mending until a stubborn knot seemed to form on its own on the fabric held by Miss Lydia.

  “I will never be a true proficient, Lizzy,” she whined.

  “You will if you practise,” Elizabeth stated without looking up from her work.

  “That is what Papa says about you and the pianoforte. He says you will be an accomplished musician should you practise more.” Lydia thrust the words back at her sister.

  “I am sure Papa is correct, Lydia. As long as I am at Longbourn and Mary spends hours at her playing, I fear we shall never know.” Still, she did not look up.

  Darcy was pleased to stand in the doorway and watch her. Her head was bent over the stitching, her neck long and delicate, escaped curls resting on the soft skin.

  “I suppose Mr. Darcy will buy you a pianoforte.” Wistfully, Lydia set aside the threads. “He loves you, Lizzy, though I had never thought it was possible he would love anyone.” Her voice softened. “It is just like a dream or a fairy tale where the handsome prince with his tall form and thick hair saves you from the wicked queen, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, and rides off with you to Scotland to marry in haste.” She sighed. “He is far more romantic than a man should be, especially for a rich man. It is such a waste for him to have both looks and wealth, as it makes it hard for normal men to compete.”

  Elizabeth giggled. When she looked up, she spotted him standing behind her sister. He put his finger to his lips and shook his head. He was enjoying this revealing conversation far too much.

  “However,” Miss Lydia’s voice became firm, “I would only ever call him tolerable to his face, Sister. He should never know the power a well-placed set of dimples can have over a lady. When he smiles, he is far more than tolerable, in my opinion. I would think it best if he kept his pleasing countenance for when vipers like Caroline Bingley were not around. Ladies like her would always assume a gentleman’s attention was solely for them. Little do they know, their silly ways do not appeal to a man of means. Mr. Darcy would never kiss Miss Bingley like he kissed you yesterday.”

  He did not need a mirror to know his eyes grew huge in his face.

  “I would hope not!” Elizabeth declared, unsettled at the thought.

  Darcy cleared his throat, wanting to laugh when Miss Lydia spun around to see him directly behind the chair.

  “Have you been here long?” the young girl challenged, her gaze never wavering.

  “Long enough.” Darcy smiled, hoping his prized dimples were displayed.

  They must have been as Miss Lydia rolled her eyes and huffed. “Say, Mr. Darcy, we heard Wickham has died, but we did not hear how it was accomplished.”

  He was stunned. Why would a young woman want to know this? Then he remembered the stack of gothic novels in Georgiana’s sitting room and had his answer.

  “In a strange turn of events, Mr. Weston, the jeweler, insisted Wickham be hanged, while Colonel Forster begged the magistrate for the privilege of executing him by firing squad outside the city.”

  He said nothing else. Both young ladies leaned forward in their chairs, waiting. He continued in silence. Finally, Elizabeth turned her gorgeous eyes to him and looked at him with a slight tilt to her head. He could hold out no longer.

  “As it happened, he was neither hanged by a noose nor riddled with bullets.”

  Lydia almost jumped in her seat. “What happened?” Her chin rested on the palm of her hand as she bit the corner of her lip in the same manner her older sister did. “How did he die? You must tell us for we are brimming with curiosity!”

  “Prepare to be shocked, then.” There was no glory in a senseless death, whether deserved or not. “When the doctor came to see to Wickham’s burns, he brought along with him a small bottle of laudanum to dull the pain. In a last grasp of control, Wickham grabbed the bottle from him as the doctor measured out the drops. Tilting his head back, he swallowed the whole of the contents. Within minutes he fell into a sleep he would never wake from.”

  “No!” Lydia proclaimed. “This is an abominable end to his tale. To end his life without the benefit of a romantic death with his hair burnt off is shameful. I am pleased I did not stand up with him for the first at the Netherfield Ball. How would I live down the infamy?”

  “I understand your point,” Darcy concluded. “I do have a question for you, Miss Lydia, which I have pondered since yesterday—one where my cousin, the colonel, has an interest as well.”

  “I am at your service, sir.”

  He saw Elizabeth smile at the unexpected formality of her little sister.

  “Richard and I yearn to know why you grabbed a book when Wickham crept in with a gun.”

  Lydia shrugged her shoulders and fluttered her hand. “It is very simple, Mr. Darcy. When John Lucas taught me how to protect myself two years ago, he told me to always clasp the closest weapon in my hands tightly to throw at my assailant or hit him over the head. There was nothing else within my reach, so I figured I could always read it to Wickham and bore him to death.”

  The room filled with laughter as he thanked her for her reply.

  He wiped his eyes. “Miss Lydia, after Elizabeth and I have been married for a while, it would be our pleasure to invite you for a visit to our home. You have proven yourself to be a true friend and despite my initial impressions, I believe with a little amount of instruction, you would outshine the silly ladies of the ton in no time at all.”

  “What a joke!” She jumped up and ran from the room. At the door, she stopped. “You just wait until I tell Kitty.” Whooping and hollering like a field hand calling cows, she left Darcy and her sister behind, quite alone and stunned by her wild behaviour after the compliment.

  “Perhaps there might be needed a bit more instruction than you thought, William,” Elizabeth giggled.

  Darcy appreciated their solitude. Taking advantage, he kissed her sweetly. Within minutes, a wedding date had been set and a double wedding agreed upon.

  “Elizabeth, where are the rest of the family?” He was grateful but curious when time passed and they still were undisturbed.

  She smiled mischievously
. “Mama declared that London society is too barbarous for her, so she harped at Papa until they left early this morning. Mr. Bingley, Jane, and Mary travelled with them to arrange for the ceremony to be held at Longbourn in June. Kitty and Lydia remained behind for two extra days under the guise of helping Aunt Gardiner with the children when we all travel to Hertfordshire for the holidays. They gave no consideration to how much room a family of six takes in a conveyance. I fear they will be displeased when they arrive in Meryton with their dresses wrinkled from being pressed against each other. They are silly girls at times.”

  “But not always,” he insisted.

  “No, not always,” she easily agreed. “William, you truly are the man of my dreams.”

  “Am I your handsome prince?” he teased.