~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Mrs Fitzpatrick was supremely confident; her plan would work because it was, after all, her plan, and she was never wrong. Her carriage would transport her close to the site of her triumph so she would watch it happen. With her two footmen having set up a table and chair for her on a slight rise, she would be able to view the culmination of all these years of waiting, to watch her former family finally receive their comeuppance.
It renewed her anger at Hodges for killing her former brother, as she truly would have wanted that privilege for herself. As it was, she planned to watch Wickham strangle the life out of the foundling the man had called his daughter.
Wickham could not believe that the day was here and that his vengeance was finally at hand. They were at an inn in a town just a few hours from the sight of the ambush. Disguised in a wig and with his hat pulled as far down as possible, Wickham had worked closely with McLamb to scout the area and confirmed that their employer was correct, that the place she chose would have to be traversed by a party travelling from Pemberley to the Lake District.
He remembered the conversation a fortnight earlier when the old bat had finally revealed her plan to him.
“You summoned me, madam,” Wickham stated dryly.
“Do not be impertinent, boy,” she said as she lifted her cane, reminding him that he needed to be careful how he spoke to her.
“Sorry, Mrs Fitzpatrick,” he replied using as much fake contrition as he could muster.
“In a fortnight, all of those who have wronged us will be dead,” she relayed in a tone that conveyed this as a matter of fact. She had gone on to tell him the when and where.“You will help scout the area with McLamb due to your superior knowledge of the terrain around Pemberley.” He had nodded, never pointing out that it had in fact been many years since he had been anywhere near the environs of Pemberley.“As long as you perform well, you will be rewarded, and I may even start paying you for your work.”
“May I make a request in lieu of any other reward,” he ventured. She inclined her head like the Queen would indicate he should continue.“I would like to kill the foundling myself, and I ask for Miss Darcy to use and then I will dispose of her after,” he asked, hoping that she would fall for his ploy regarding Miss Darcy.
“The foundling is yours, but Miss Darcy must die with the rest of them. I want none of them alive with any claim on my soon to be properties,” she told him with finality.
“Thank you for the foundling,” he bowed and then left her company as she had given him a dismissive wave.
Worrying that McLamb would report to the old bat, he rethought the plan to involve him in his attempt to take Miss Darcy for himself. Wickham knew that in the midst of it all, he would have to find a way to fool the old bat, to make her think that Georgiana was dead. He then would take her once the action had subsided with him“dead” as well. Mayhap she would be so grateful for saving her life that she would willingly give herself to him.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
As planned, three carriages arrived from Snowhaven on the first day of April. As Jones watched them arrive, his excitement built because he knew that he would soon be able to stop pretending to be a stable hand. On the morrow, he would be rid of the hated tasks forever. If he never had to muck out a stall in his life again, it would be too soon for him.
The family congregated in the largest drawing room after the arrivals changed. The part that they would play in the illusion on the morrow was again discussed. They did not think that they were being watched, but they would take no chances, just in case there was a watcher that had been missed.
The ladies were not overjoyed that their menfolk would be in the vicinity of the action but were assured that the only one who would be close at the point of contact would be Richard. He needed to be able to survey the field of the confrontation for any unexpected problems that would necessitate changes in strategy. Although they had to plan for it, knowing how their adversary needed to feel that she controlled everything, there was little chance of there being a deviation from the plan she had most certainly laid out.
To keep the impression that all was normal, a group of the younger family members took a ride that afternoon, though the usual banter that one would expect from the family members was subdued. Elizabeth steered Saturn over towards Zeus until she was riding parallel to her cousin with Aggie trotting in between them.“Please do not get hurt on the morrow,” Elizabeth begged softly.“I do not want to imagine not having you to…talk to.” Elizabeth realised how close she had come to declaring her feelings. But even without hearing the words, Will understood her meaning.
“As I cannot imagine the same about you, Lizzy. We will all be well, I promise,” he replied tenderly.
“That is a promise I will hold you to,” she replied with a half-smile, both fully aware of the double meaning of her statement and that they had just declared their intentions without having to wait. After all the anxiety, it was so simply done. With a clarity that often comes when one is facing an unknown, they smiled ruefully as each wondered how it had gotten so far astray when they were both so incredibly good at using their words and reading between the lines. They stayed close to one another but rode on without more discussion. No more really needed to be said.
That evening there was a quiet dinner as everyone contemplated the significance of the next day. Andrew and George were pleased that Bennet would remain at Pemberley with the women and children so they would not be bereft of all the men in the family, and he faithfully promised to let their women work themselves into a frenzy.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Forester and his fifty men had been at Snowhaven for a sennight and were ready to finish this. This way if anyone were sent to verify the family’s departure, they would not see a suspicious mass exodus of horsemen following the supposedly unaccompanied carriages.
As there was a full moon, a little after one in the morning, Forester led his men toward their waiting points by a circuitous route. Before five they were in place and well back from the spots where they knew the criminals would be.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
McLamb led his group of mercenaries out of the inn as the dawn broke. Wickham rode next to him, and the riders were followed by Mrs Fitzpatrick in her carriage with her two footmen in their positions on the bench behind the compartment.
Wickham could taste the victory and was already spending the money that would be his in a matter of days. If there were more time, he would have dragged the foundling into the woods and ruined her to prove his power and superiority, but if he wanted to somehow make sure that Miss Darcy lived, he would have to kill her faster than he had intended to.
Mrs Fitzpatrick was sitting on the comfortable seat, leaning against the squabs with a self-satisfied smile on her lips. She would make them kneel before her, hear her grievances against them, hear them begging for their lives and the lives of their precious brats before she ordered them shot. Mayhap she would do some shooting herself. This was going to be the best day in her life since she had dispatched that useless husband of hers and found that will, which ruined all her plans.
For her, the icing on the cake was her belief that her insipid, sickly daughter and that Ashby who had married her would be part of the party so she would be able to rid the world of them, too. She felt so relaxed that she did something that she had not since she was a young girl—she dozed in the equipage.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
