Page 94 of Midnight at Pemberley

The twang of the silver as it sliced the air mixed sharply with Elizabeth’s screams and Edward’s fight for breath. Darcy paused, focusing all his energy into one movement. Edward had placed all his trust in Darcy to finish the battle. The glint of the silver as it caught the refracted light of the morning sun resembled a flash of lightning in a storm, and Darcy’s arm shot out to catch it as it wobbled towards him. Without thinking, he lunged forward, striking his target from behind, and the blade again found its mark.

Lydia Bennet slumped forward, clinging to her older sister as they both collapsed to the floor, Lydia lying face down in Elizabeth’s lap. Elizabeth rolled Lydia to her back, and with the last of his strength, Darcy pulled the sword free.

“Lyddie.” Elizabeth caressed her sister’s cheek, but there was no response.

“We must depart now,” the colonel said as he pulled Darcy to his feet.

“Elizabeth.” Darcy reached for her.

“I cannot leave her, William … not like this.” Elizabeth’s eyes pleaded with him to do something.

Darcy turned to his cousin. “Can you carry her, Edward?”

Elizabeth thought it odd that Edward unwillingly agreed. To where had the amiable colonel gone? “I can carry her long enough to keep her body safe. I will come back for her later.” The colonel hoisted Lydia Bennet’s limp body onto his shoulder as he led the way. The decaying body of the once-beautiful opera singer and the overturned furniture marked the battle.

In the open again, Elizabeth scurried between the colonel’s steady footsteps, carrying the dangling limbs of her sister, and her husband’s faltering footfall. In retreat, they were slower than in their advance. At last, they reached the final field. The inn in sight on the horizon, Edward placed Lydia’s body under a cluster of trees, while Darcy also sat to rest.

Bent over in fatigue, the colonel stated the obvious: “We look bad enough as it is. We cannot go waltzing in with a body slung over our shoulders.”

Darcy and Elizabeth took a close look at each other. They were all three covered in blood and dirt and sweat; clothes were torn and tattered. “William, Edward and I departed together. It is best if he and I return at the same time. If anyone asks, I fell down the hill behind the church, and the colonel scrambled to save me.”

“We will freshen up and come back for you.” Exhausted, Edward now leaned against a tree.

Elizabeth knelt beside her husband. “Will you be safe?”

“I have the sword, and a few minutes to rest will do me well.” Darcy touched her face. Like a man starving for what he could not have, he traced her lips with his fingertips. “You will hurry?”

“I will bring you clean clothes. Peters led Wickham on a merry chase, but we should still have time to assist you to the inn.” Elizabeth gently touched his cheek. “Not long, William.”

“Edward,” Darcy said as he turned his attention to his cousin, “make arrangements to send Lydia’s body to Longbourn. It is the least we can do for her parents.”

“Certainly, Darcy.” He turned towards the inn. “Come, Elizabeth, we must make haste.”

She kissed Darcy’s cheek before following the colonel across the field. She ran the few steps it took to catch up with him. Impulsively, Elizabeth’s hand touched his arm. “Thank you, Edward, for everything—for William’s life, for my life, and for my sister’s peace.”

He said defensively, “Your husband saved you, Elizabeth, not I.”

“With your weapon,” she insisted. She was uncertain what had brought on the colonel’s dudgeon, but she held her suspicions. Although she had to take two steps to every one of his, Elizabeth did not falter. She would speak to what neither of them had acknowledged previously. “Edward,” she pleaded, “please do not do this. You knew my marriage to William was not one of convenience. I cannot lose you in my life because of something that cannot be, and I will not be the cause of a rift between you and your cousin.”

He did not respond, but he did slow his pace, telling her in the only way a man of honor could that he would deal with her heartfelt sentiments. Just before they crossed the stile leading to the inn’s road and courtyard, he caught her hand. “Permit me to assist you,” he said as he lifted Elizabeth over. Setting her down gently before him, Edward murmured, “It will all be well, Elizabeth. William remains my best friend.”

“Thank you, Edward.” Elizabeth looked away. She could not deny her dependence on her husband’s cousin. Without him, Darcy’s life would still be in danger. For his efforts, she was eternally grateful, but Darcy was her sun and her stars. When they reached the inn, always the perfect gentleman, Edward blocked the view of bystanders, sending Elizabeth hurrying to her room before he casually followed.

Twenty minutes later, Edward tapped lightly at her door. “I am off to make arrangements.” He looked presentable once more. “I will meet you and Darcy in the fields. Make haste. Mr. Peters just rode back into the courtyard. Wickham will be returning to his home.”

Elizabeth nodded and grabbed a shirt and overcoat from among Darcy’s things. She also took a flask of water, afraid to give her husband anything else for the moment. “I am going out the back of the inn. Should I take Trident for Darcy?”

“No, it would draw more attention.” He left her standing in the doorway and headed towards the village after speaking privately to the innkeeper. Elizabeth watched him go and then took the back stairway. At this time of the day, no one was around, so she darted out a side door, which was blocked from the front view by a lean-to, and scooted across the courtyard, crossing to the field once again.

Watching her approach, Darcy wondered of the exchange he observed as his cousin and Elizabeth left him. Something happened between the time she touched Edward’s arm and the moment he assisted her over the stile. Whatever it was, they made their peace in those few minutes. Has Edward developed a regard for Elizabeth? The thought kept returning to Darcy’s mind. If so, would it not be better for her to spend her life with him? Edward Fitzwilliam would provide for her and treat Elizabeth with respect; but even more importantly, she would no longer be involved in the madness of my life. She would be safe with Edward. Darcy fought back the jealousy seeping into his veins. He knew neither his cousin nor his wife would ever act on any growing regard between them as long as Darcy lived. As long as I live. Despite the knot forming in his stomach, he reconciled himself to the knowledge that, at least with Edward, someone he trusted could be a part of Elizabeth’s life, especially if things turned bleaker.

Darcy stood and made the effort to smile upon his wife’s approach. “You are beautiful, Mrs. Darcy,” he said as he painfully lifted her off her feet, welcoming her into his embrace.

Elizabeth responded as he wished. “I am happy you are safe, my love.” Her fingers trailed down his face, as if memorizing it. “I am afraid, Mr. Darcy, you will not have the comfort of a fire by which to change your clothes, but as your wife, I will enjoy observing you, nonetheless.”

“Wife, you have no idea how I missed your relentless teasing.” Darcy set her on her feet and took the shirt and coat and water she offered. Before he did anything else, he took several sips from the flask. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he said, “Thank you for thinking of the water, Elizabeth.”

She nodded her head in acceptance. “You may add the waistcoat and cravat at the inn.” She sat where she might see her sister’s body. He grieved for his wife’s loss.