Mrs Bennet set her hands on her ample hips and glared up at Darcy. “You! I have read your letters, Mr Darcy, and they are full of arrogance and conceit. Why, the things you said about my dearest girl, I could simply slap you!”
Darcy’s brow pinched. “I am afraid you must be mistaken. I never wrote to you directly, madam.”
“No, no, they were not addressed to me, but to our dear Mr Wickham here. He was good enough to show them to me—why, I read them myself. How many times did you abuse my poor Lizzy’s character?” She sniffed. “To think you meant to steal her away from dear Colonel Fitzwilliam by lying about his death! Well, I only say it is a mercy she is finer than you, sir.”
Darcy gritted his teeth. “Mrs Bennet, there has been a misunderstanding. This is hardly the time. Are you and your daughters well? I trust the funds for your travel were received and put to good use?”
“But of course, we are well, no thanks to you! What, would you now accuse Mr Wickham of a poor character, too? He told me the truth after we had sailed that he had to pay for our tickets himself, the poor man. To think you had my brother fooled into believing you were generous!”
Darcy exchanged grim glances with the earl and shook his head. Wickham had entirely corrupted the woman, and he did not have the time at present to lay out the truth. “Mrs Bennet, if you would kindly mount the box. My cousin here will be happy to help you while I conclude the business with Mr Wickham.”
“Business?” she scoffed. “The only business you ought to be concluding is an apology, Mr Darcy. I have no intention of going with you in your carriage!”
“Come now, my dear Mrs Bennet,” Wickham chuckled, patting the woman’s hand as if he were her son. “I assure you, Darcy is not always a brute. He will look out for your safety while I’m away.”
“Away, where?” Darcy huffed quietly. “What tales have you told them, Wickham?”
One of the sisters—one bearing a striking resemblance to Elizabeth—planted her feet and glared up at Darcy. “He’s going to help my sister and the colonel, no thanks to you. Lucky for Lizzy thatsomeonewill dosomething, if his own family casts him out over his choice of wife!”
Darcy smothered a weary sigh, and for an instant, considered letting Wickham keep the ladies. “I hope I will win your trust, Miss Bennet.”
“Hah! How very pompous you are. Oh, dear Mr Wickham, surely you cannot mean for us to stay with him?” She turned stubbornly away from Matlock, who was trying to lead her to the carriage, and batted her lashes at Wickham.
Wickham’s artificial smile had become so strained it looked like more of a sneer. “You will be quite safe, my dear Miss Lydia. Your faithful George Wickham will make sure of it. There, there, do not ruffle your petticoats. Come along, Miss Kitty,” he called to the other sister, who was regarding Darcy suspiciously. “Oh, do not fear him, his bark is worse than his bite.”
Wickham waited until the ladies had turned their backs. “Is the money in the boot?”
Darcy jerked his head in that direction, and Wickham went. As he walked behind the carriage, however, a modestly attired young woman was sliding off the rumble seat and meekly following the Bennet ladies around to the door. “What, you even brought a maid?” he cried. “How do you not understand the idea of coming alone?”
Darcy lifted a shoulder. “I would not deny three ladies who have been bounced around and are being traded like cattle the dignity of proper escort. She is only here to see to their comfort.”
Wickham snorted. “Only you, Darcy. Open the boot.” He flicked his eyes meaningfully to the trees and moved so that his pistol showed again. “Over there, Matlock.”
Reginald came to stand by Darcy’s side, with a look that spoke of chagrin and scepticism. Darcy strained for any sounds as the ladies entered the coach, and heard nothing but the expected grunts and settlings, and a few shrill complaints from Mrs Bennet. But peering around the corner of the carriage at him, the finest eyes he had ever known, shaded beneath a maid’s bonnet. He nodded to her.Now.
Darcy scarcely touched the boot latch when it jerked away from him. Elizabeth had flown to the driver’s seat with the quickness of a cat and unleashed a feral-sounding shout to the horses. With the precision and boldness of an expert driver, she whipped the team about until the inner carriage wheels almost pivoted in place, and she was bearing savagely down on Wickham. He yelped in alarm and stumbled frantically out of the path of the oncoming team. Wickham hit the ground, more out of bad luck than intention, but from there he was in prime position to level his pistol at the driver…
Until Darcy and Reginald fell on him and pinned him down.
Wickham was spitting curses, slinging ineffective punches, and trying to kick his way free for several seconds, but he gave up when Darcy bent his arm behind his back. Reginald got the pistol and pointed it at Wickham’s head. The scoundrel curled his lip and gritted his teeth. “She won’t get far, Darcy. You’ve signed her death warrant.”
Darcy pushed up on Wickham’s wrist. “Tell whoever is hiding in the trees to come out!”
But there was no need, for a shot rang out, followed by another. Darcy only glimpsed Elizabeth’s head ducking down, heard her call on the horses for more, and then there was another shot.
He slammed against Wickham again. “Tell them I have the money on me! It is not in the carriage!”
Wickham twisted and cocked a glare up at Darcy. “Youtold a lie? For the first time in my life, I do not believe you.”
Darcy yanked a thick bundle of bills from his breast pocket and held them up, where they could be clearly seen. “The money is here!” he cried.
The shots at the carriage died down, and it sped out of the clearing. Darcy heaved a sigh. Elizabeth was safe, but nowhewas the target. He raised cautiously to his feet and moved away from Wickham as half a dozen hungry-looking ruffians emerged from the trees, all with pistols pointed at him.Blast it all, where were Houghton’s men?He sensed Reginald glancing at him, and they backed up together, hands raised.
Wickham finished dusting himself off and snatched the bills from Darcy’s hand and the pistol from Reginald’s. He held the money aloft for his companions to see, then examined it. “These are all small bills! Come on, Darcy, where is the rest?”
A grin crept over Darcy’s face. “They are coming.”
One of the band was close enough now to thrust his pistol under Darcy’s chin, while two others were closing fast. A spear of doubt rippled through him. “Where is it, Darcy?” Wickham raged. He lifted his pistol and drew back his thumb on the hammer.
