Page 23 of Midnight at Pemberley

Taking real note of the man at last, ironically, Elizabeth felt she sat beside the embodiment of Evil. The lieutenant reminded her of the fallen angel, Satan. The man’s smile was too perfect—his manners were too perfect. “But perfection cannot exist in this world,” she reminded herself through an internal shrug.

Wickham’s voice changed tenor. Suspicion laced his words. “Outside Pemberley? Do you know the estate?”

“Only by reputation.”

Before the conversation could go further, Lydia and Kitty interrupted. “We wish to walk to Meryton. Aunt Philips invited us to tea. You will join us, will you not, Mr. Wickham?” Lydia asked flirtatiously.

“I will happily see you to the village, Miss Lydia.” He stood and made a quick bow of parting to Elizabeth. “I am most eager to hear of your luck with lottery tickets,” he continued to tease Lydia. “I understand from Mr. Denny that you win quite often. Do you have a method you employ?” He took Lydia’s hand and placed it on his arm as he led Elizabeth’s sister to the entrance hallway.

Requiring the exercise to clear her thinking, Elizabeth trailed their party. She did not know what to make of her misgivings about the fine-looking stranger.

Upon reaching the village, they turned towards their aunt’s house. Fortunately, Aunt Philips met them coming from the shops. Introductions were made, which were followed on Mr. Wickham’s part by a happy readiness of conversation—a readiness which was at the same time too perfectly correct and unassuming. The whole party were still standing and talking very agreeably together when the sound of horses drew their notice, and the Misters Darcy and Bingley were seen riding towards them. Elizabeth’s heart leapt in happiness.

On distinguishing the ladies of the group, the two gentlemen came directly forward and engaged in the usual civilities. Bingley was the principal spokesman, and Miss Bennet, the principal object. Elizabeth was happy to see the relationship progress.

“Miss Bennet,” Bingley said as he tipped his hat to Jane, “I was on my way to Longbourn to inquire after your health.”

“I am well, as you can see, Mr. Bingley.” Jane blushed prettily.

As the two openly flirted, Elizabeth noted Mr. Darcy’s distress at finding Mr. Wickham as a member of the Bennet party. Elizabeth, happening to notice the countenance of both as they looked upon each other, was all astonishment at the effect of the meeting. Both changed color. One looked white, the other red. Mr. Darcy’s ice-blue eyes hardened in apparent hatred. Mr. Wickham, after a few moments, touched his hat—a salutation, which Mr. Darcy ignored. What could be the meaning of it? Elizabeth’s curiosity piqued. It was impossible for her not to long to know.

In another minute, Mr. Bingley, without seeming to notice what had passed between his friend and the newest officer in the militia, took his leave and rode on with his friend. Mr. Denny and Mr. Wickham walked with the young ladies to the door of Aunt Philips’s house and then made their bows, in spite of Lydia’s pressing entreaties that they should come in. Before the gentlemen could escape, Aunt Philips invited them all to supper for the next evening. The younger girls readily agreed for the whole family, while the gentlemen agreed on their own behalf.

Elizabeth followed her sisters into the house, where she attempted to enjoy their company and the tea, but her mind remained with the gentleman from Derbyshire. Why had Mr. Darcy snubbed Mr. Wickham? Even in distress, his good breeding assumed control, and Mr. Darcy would perform as a respectable representative to Bingley’s household. She surmised that his actions held something to do with Derbyshire, and she meant to discover the connection.

As he rode away, Darcy’s anger boiled. Responding to Bingley’s happiness at seeing Miss Jane Bennet only complicated Darcy’s feelings. Wickham was in Meryton. Worse, he was in Elizabeth’s company. Had the scoundrel followed him to Hertfordshire? Did Wickham know how Darcy felt about Elizabeth? Know how loneliness had named the past two days? It was now even more imperative that he stay away from her, for, if Wickham learned of Darcy’s fascination, Wickham would harm her. Somehow, Darcy had saved Georgiana, but now Elizabeth was in danger from the same evil. He must protect her. His absence was the only logical course. But would that be enough? He feared his ignoring her would increase Elizabeth’s inquisitiveness.

Chapter Six

THE WOMAN FLIRTED WITH HIM BRAZENLY, AND WICKHAM ALLOWED HER to sit upon his lap. Her dark skin indicated she was of Mediterranean descent. “You are beautiful, my pet.” He bit down on her earlobe, harder than most men might, but she offered no complaint. Instead, she pulled his face to her cleavage. He nuzzled her, pretending to desire her sexually. Wickham caressed her breast before whispering eagerly, “Where might we be alone?”

She giggled and begged for a kiss, but he despised kissing any woman other than Ellender. Only Ellender fulfilled those needs he attempted to bury deep within. Instead, he murmured a suggestive remark against her cheek.

“Permit me to retrieve me shawl,” she said upon a pout.

“I will keep you warm,” he insisted.

The woman said playfully, “I expect you will, Love.”

Within a few minutes they walked along a quiet country road. “Me house be just down here.” She gestured to a small cottage.

Wickham pulled her to him. “I do not believe I can wait that long.” He slipped the bodice of her dress down, exposing one of her breasts.

“You be an eager one, Love,” she reprimanded him, but she did not withdraw from his aggressive touch.

He shoved her chin up, so that she might look into his eyes. He held her there with his grasp and with his stare. “Permit me to show you how eager,” he growled. He lowered his head and sank his teeth into the tender flesh of her neck. Tasting the blood, he closed his jaw, and with the strength of a wolf, he ripped away the flesh. The woman did not scream as he took her. Instead, she sank into his arms. He sucked and tore away more of her. The initial fear in her eyes remained as her body went rigid. Only then did he feel the excitement that a true man would feel. It was not quite an engorgement of his member, but his body stiffened with need. At length, he placed the female on the ground to ravish her completely.

Determined to have her answer, Elizabeth set out for Meryton as early as propriety would permit. She meant to find Mr. Wickham. Fortunately, the man lazily sauntered along the village’s main walkway. She crossed the street at an angle, with the purpose of accidentally encountering him. She pretended interest in a fine bonnet displayed in the window of a mercantile. Waiting impatiently, she counted the seconds until he stood beside her.

“The color would do nothing for your beautiful hair, Miss Elizabeth.” He spoke close to her ear—intimately close, so much so she had to force away a shiver of dread. They could behold each other’s reflection in the store’s window, and although hers was crystal clear, even showing the wrinkles in her sleeves, Mr. Wickham’s was a blur of color. The shiver she previously displaced now claimed her spine.

“I thought of making it a gift.” With deliberate innocence, she turned to face him. “Good day, Mr. Wickham. I see you claimed your lieutenancy.”

His regimentals added to his perfection. Her mouth went dry as his rapier-sharp gaze narrowed on her. “I am a junior officer, Miss Elizabeth.” He executed an exaggerated bow that served no purpose she could define.

Avoiding looking him directly in his eyes, Elizabeth feigned delight. “I am pleased to know Meryton is safer than it was this time yesterday.” Setting her mind to her task, she extended her hand to the man. “And now, Sir, I might implore you to escort me safely to my Aunt Philips’s home.”

“My true pleasure, Miss Elizabeth.”