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Elizabeth saw with some satisfaction that Wickham was standing in a hunched over position with his hand on the sloping wall of the attic, holding himself up. Beecham dumped her on the bed and looked over at Wickham. “You hurt?”
Wickham waved away his concern in irritation, glaring at Elizabeth –and he then crossed the room to stand over her in the bed. “You are fortunate I never hit women, because you sorely tempt me. Try anything like that again and I will hit you!” Fury was etched in every line of his face. Elizabeth had no trouble believing what he said and shrank back against the wall.
Wickham smiled in satisfaction at her reaction and walked to the door, still stooped and moving with a funny hitch in his step. There would be no further attempts to get her into bed again – at least for tonight – Elizabeth realized with relief. Beecham followed his boss, closing and locking the door. They talked as they strode away, and she rushed to the door to press her ear against the keyhole.
“You said this would be easy work,” Beecham complained.
“I thought so. I did not realize we would be kidnapping a hellcat,” Wickham growled. Elizabeth smiled to herself as she pressed her face to the smooth wood of the door. “No matter. We only need to concern ourselves with her until morning. I want you stationed near the front door in case she somehow escapes the room again.”
“When does the lady pay us?” asked Beecham.
“She doesn’t pay us, you idiot. Her agent will. Tomorrow, after we release the woman. But we have to let her go precisely at nine, remember.” The voices receded as the men thumped down the second set of stairs and Elizabeth heard no more.
Elizabeth seated herself once more on the bed, her hands brushing the rough wool blanket, and puzzled over what she had heard. It was a tremendous relief to hear that they truly planned to release her the next day, but she could not understand the reasoning behind it. Obviously Wickham had been interested in seduction – or worse – but that was not his primary purpose. With a shudder she realized that if rape were their goal, Beecham would do as well as Wickham, but it appeared they were now prepared to let her alone for the night.
Why were they keeping her here? Wickham hated Darcy, but, she was certain, that antipathy alone would not have spurred him to such action without some hope of material gain. She had expected Wickham to extort a ransom from Darcy, but he had said nothing of it to Beecham – and if they wanted money, surely they would not release her until it had been paid.
No, apparently someone else had paid Wickham to perform an abduction, but that made no sense. Why would someone else want Wickham to kidnap Elizabeth? No, she realized with a start. The question was: why would someone want Wickham to keep Elizabeth in his house for the night?
They were attempting to ruin her reputation! To accomplish that, Wickham need not be successful in his seduction. If she were seen leaving Wickham’s house in the morning, it would be assumed they were conducting a love affair. That is why they needed to release her precisely at nine. They must plan that witnesses would be present to see the evidence of her debauchery. She felt sick to her stomach.
Who would go to such lengths to ruin her? It must be that someone sought to prevent her from marrying Darcy! Whoever masterminded this plan did not know they were already married and was hoping to prevent the wedding. Wickham had referred to the person who hired them as “she,” a mysterious lady who must assume that Darcy would call off the wedding if he believed his fiancée was carrying on with Wickham. In fact, whoever had devised the plan probably thought it would not matter if Darcy actually believed in an affair with Wickham; he would be forced to abandon her no matter what he truly thought. Elizabeth had her suspicions about who might have devised this plan, but it could also be someone she had never met: a woman who had had hopes of Darcy’s hand and wanted to prevent him from marrying someone else.
Elizabeth lay back on lumpy bed with a groan. The problem with the plan was that it could work. Even understanding their strategy would not help Elizabeth thwart it. The members of Darcy’s social circle would not care that she had refused to be seduced or that she had fought off Wickham’s advances. Whoever the witnesses were, they would certainly have been selected for their social standing or ability to gossip – or both. They would not believe a farfetched tale about abduction, not when it was far simpler to believe that Darcy’s love had been caught in a compromising situation and was inventing a story to cover her loose behavior.
The news that Darcy’s supposed fiancée had been carrying on with a disgraced militia officer would be all over the ton within a day. Elizabeth closed her eyes against the thought. Of course, the plan would not have the desired effect because they were already married, and she briefly considered revealing this information to Wickham. It might lead his employer to call off the kidnapping, but, she thought with a sigh, part of Wickham’s motivation was revenge on Darcy ?
? and that he would not give up. He might try to seduce her again or ransom her – or extort Darcy to keep quiet about the whole affair. If she conveyed the news of their marriage to Wickham, he might be pushed into more rash behavior.
The unfortunate fact was that their married status would be no proof against scandal. If the ton knew they were already married, nothing would be accomplished except to besmirch the Darcy name and make him even more of laughingstock. What newlywed woman would seek someone else to warm her bed so soon?
Tears trickled from her eyes. It was bad enough to think of enduring such embarrassment, but the thought of Darcy’s humiliation was almost unbearable. He was so proud of the Darcy name, but here she would be disgracing it within a month of their wedding! What would he do? Would he send her away – have them live separately to escape the scandal? And her family! They had not yet recovered from Lydia’s wanton behavior and now they would be facing an even worse scandal. It would destroy her father.
An even more horrible thought struck her: What if Darcy believed that she wanted to run away with Wickham? She had no idea what lies Wickham had told Darcy about her. Had he sent Darcy a letter? It would be like him to rub salt in the wound. She had been assuming that Darcy would be frantically searching for her, but what if he believed that she wanted to elope with Wickham? No, she told herself. He knows I hate Wickham. And he knows I love him. He is searching for me, but will he find me in time? London was an enormous city, but she was sure Darcy would find her eventually – however, it might be too late.
Gazing at the cracked plaster over her head, she thought that she might thwart Wickham’s plan in other ways. Perhaps she could refuse to leave the house; the irony was not lost on her. But it would not be hard for Wickham to force her out the door. Perhaps she could fight Wickham in front of the witnesses, but the man had a glib tongue and could probably explain away it away as a lover’s quarrel to anyone watching.
Tears trailed across her cheeks, and Elizabeth attempted to stifle sobs. Humiliation and disgrace seemed guaranteed.
Chapter 15
Elizabeth had thought she could not sleep, but the events of the day had exhausted her and sleep crept upon her sometime after midnight. She was awakened by a scraping and scratching sound at her window. Had she been at home, such noises might have alarmed her, but in this place they gave her hope. Maybe someone had found her! She rushed to the window and saw a dark shape the size of a person, and, although she could barely distinguish the outline, she pushed the window open.
“Elizabeth! Thank God!” Darcy climbed through the window and embraced her fervently. In the circle of his arms she released all the tears she had been holding in since the abduction, relief washing through her as his crushing embrace seemed to express all the desperation of their last hours. Then he held her away a little to scrutinize her face. “Are you hurt?” She shook her head, but he continued to examine her, inspecting every inch of her face and arms. Elizabeth took the opportunity to examine him, noting the dark circles under his eyes and how his normally neat hair hung in his face. “I was afraid that Wickham would try—” He made a choked sound as if the words were stuck in his throat.
“He tried to seduce me, but I, um…kicked him in – where—” She blushed, unable to finish the sentence. “Then he left me alone.”
Cradling her head at his chest, he barked a laugh. “Would that I had seen that! I should have had more faith in your fighting skills.” Relief colored his every word.
Elizabeth shrugged with a small smile. “He angered me. I do have a temper sometimes.” In answer, Darcy kissed her desperately and at great length. There was an edge of anguish in his lips, as though he could never bring her close enough to him – but she was his equal in desperation, wishing that he would never release her.
When they finally separated, Elizabeth was surprised to see Colonel Fitzwilliam standing by the window, watching them with a mixture of relief and humor. “Well, Darcy, I suppose this is the correct room?”
“Yes,” Darcy’s voice was hoarse. “Your instincts were sound. Thank you.” Elizabeth regarded him inquiringly. “When we were surveying the house, Richard considered the attic and said if he had a prisoner, that is where he would put one,” Darcy explained. “So, we sent up a rope with a grappling hook and decided to enter the house here.”
“What about the front door?” Elizabeth asked.
“We were concerned that if we entered there, Wickham might get to you and hurt you before we could stop him.” Darcy said, stroking her hair. “Your safety was most important.” Elizabeth felt unshed tears pricking her eyes.
