29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

Elizabeth felt the blood drain from her face as an unseen noose tightened around her throat. The edges of her vision turned grey and she gulped a deep breath and clutched the chair, her knees melting under her weight.

"Are you well, Miss Bennet?" Lady Catherine inquired as she half-rose from her seat, glancing briefly at Darcy.

"Ah, yes, I am fine, thank you," Lizzy stammered with barely enough breath to speak. "I had no idea I would meet Miss de Bourgh's betrothed so soon." She threw a scathing gaze at Darcy.

Lady Catherine's eyes narrowed, and she paused, watching intently. "Nor did we, Miss Bennet. Mr. Darcy's visit has taken us all by surprise." She fixed her attention upon her daughter. "I am afraid, Anne, your cousin is the bearer of bad tidings. Come in and hear what he has to say. You too, Miss Bennet. I am afraid we shall have to ask your assistance as well."

Somehow, Elizabeth found a seat before her legs turned into a quivering mass of calves' foot jelly. Darcy's recitation of the news from Matlock sounded far off, echoing lifelessly in her ears, just out of reach of the torment screaming in her mind.

"When should we plan to have the wedding?" Lady Catherine asked.

Wedding? The word pulled Lizzy back into the conversation with a head-snapping jolt.

"I will have my vicar acquire a special license. Will six weeks be sufficient?" Lady Catherine turned to Darcy who was trying to respond, but she waved him off. "I know, I know, a modest affair is all Georgiana needs, but think of Anne."

Lizzy was certain someone would notice the wheezing breath she battled to draw. He is the man who Anne is to marry? He bought Wickham's commission and…Lydia. He made me an offer, but he was already engaged. How …

"A double wedding!" Anne clapped her hands. "Oh, how lovely! Is that not the most delightful plan, Miss Bennet?"

"Oh…certainly…yes," Lizzy stammered instinctively, without knowing what came from her lips.

Anne turned towards Darcy, reaching for his arm, but not finding it. "I am so happy you have finally resigned yourself to live at Rosings. You will come to love it here as much as I. It is ever so much nicer than Pemberley—"

"I have done no such thing." Darcy jumped to his feet and out of Anne's reach. "We are not—"

. "Well, I am certainly not going to leave my home for Derbyshire!" Anne's hands flew to her hips

"Anne!" Lady Catherine said sharply.

Anne flinched, and her head came up sharply.

Lizzy glance from Anne to Lady Catherine to Darcy and back to Anne before Darcy could meet her gaze.

"I understand you are not easy with the prospect. But a wife must respect her husband's wishes; although, I would be pleased for you both to live here." Lady Catherine turned a narrow stare on Darcy, but he returned it in kind. She sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat. "Miss Bennet has agreed to help you to make the transition. She will help ready you to leave Rosings."

"Lady Catherine…" Lizzy began but Darcy caught her eyes and she lost her ability to speak.

"How dare you!" Anne sprang to her feet and stalked toward Elizabeth. "How could you conspire against me in such a way? I trusted you. I called you my friend." Her shriek rattled the windows and frightened the dormouse so much he skittered into his hole in the wall. "You are not my friend, you two-faced—"

"Enough! Control yourself, Anne. This display is most unseemly. There is no conspiracy." Lady Catherine rapped the table with her fan. "I asked her to help you. You must go to Pemberley."

"I will not!" Anne stomped so hard that Lizzy could feel it through the soles of her slippers. "I have told you that."

Darcy dragged his hand down his face, grumbling.

Lady Catherine pushed off her desk and slowly rose in a cloud of crinkling silk. "You willdo as you are told. You must be married. The only way…"

"But there is no reason I should have to…" Anne pumped her fists in the air.

"Excuse me," Lizzy jumped up, clutching the back of her chair when her knees protested her weight, "this seems to be a family matter. I should allow you to discuss this in private." She did not wait to be dismissed before she fled the room.

Darcy froze, his entire being focused on the woman who the servant ushered in. Elizabeth? No…no! No! No! You cannot be here, not with Anne! He heard himself stammer her name and a few other things that poured from his lips of their own volition. But what would it matter what he said? She was here, and she knew. All the hatred he felt for himself over Wickham's appearance in Meryton resurfaced with a ferocity that nearly drove him to his knees.

Married…Aunt Catherine is talking about…no! No! I am not, never have been…but Elizabeth does not know. Bingley, Richard, they were right. I should have told her. He dragged his hand over his face, sneaking a glance at her through his fingers. She hates me. Of course she does. Who would not?

As she leapt up and ran from the room, his eyes tracked her. He clutched the arms of the chair, the fabric giving way under his right hand. His fingertips met a tack. He ground his teeth at the pain, welcoming it as the initial reward for his despicable behavior.

At the edges of his awareness he knew his cousin and aunt exchanged shrieking demands, one parrying as the other thrust with rapier words. A fan rapped, a foot stomped, furniture creaked, closing in on him, suffocating him until he roared something to silence the yammering women and stalked from the room, slamming the door behind him.

Lizzy's ribs burned against the distress that bound her tighter than any corset could, her back held stiff and straight by invisible boning as she panted shallow, agonizing breaths. She dashed blindly from the house into the garden, eyes blinded by tears that she kept rubbing away. She ran until nausea threatened and she could not go further, collapsing into a heap beside a large tree.

Sobs gathered in the back of her throat mixing with the bile into a cloying mass that threatened to choke her. She coughed and sputtered until it cleared enough for her to wheeze in breath. Tears flowed down her cheeks. She rubbed them away with her sleeve, despising them. I am a fool! I knew it could not be! How could I have allowed myself to believe such a thing? Her arms wound around her waist, and she rocked silently, biting back the cries that begged to be given voice.

Hot breath struck the back of her neck. Scrambling away, she discovered Darcy's black stallion trying to nibble at her hair.

"Surtur!" she wheezed and clambered to her feet. She clutched his cheeks and pressing her forehead to his.

The horse nickered and snorted into her hair.

Before she could give it a second thought, she guided him to a convenient rock and climbed on it to reach his stirrup. She vaulted to his back. She leaned forward on his neck in a familiar signal, and he began to run. The stallion galloped across the estate. She cared not where he took her as long as it was away far away from Rosings.

What is fifty miles of good road to you? You could take me home in just a few hours and it could be as though I had never come to this horrible place. I belong at Longbourn, not here. Why did I ever leave?

She did not know how far they had gone when Surtur finally slowed and stopped at a stream. She slid down nearly unable to feel her limbs and sank to the ground in a boneless mass. Thoughts whirled too fast for her to capture a single one. She made no effort to control or even examine them as they flew past. Hiding her face in her hands, she bit her lip until it bled. The nightmare would stop; it had to, did it not? Then there would be time for reflection. Right now, she simply had to keep breathing.

Surtur nickered, then whinnied and pawed the ground. She raised her head to see a large bay gelding approach, then stop. The rider jumped to the ground and approached her. Her eyes were so bleary she could not recognize him nor did she care. But she knew the gait, the carriage of the man. Why could she not forget it? That figure was burned into her mind and would never leave.

"Elizabeth!" Darcy exclaimed, breaking into a run. "Has he thrown you? Are you injured?"

Anger flooded her limbs, propelling her up to her feet. "Your horse has done me no harm."

Her clipped tones slapped his face. He flinched knowing she did not desire his presence. I will not run from her. She deserves better than that.

He extended a hand to help her, but she refused it, flipping the dust and leaves from her skirt with a furious flick. She retreated a step, an angry glare challenging him to follow.

"I owe you an explanation." He frowned, kicking a clod of dirt. His eyes followed as it skittered toward the horses, disappearing into nothing.

"You owe me nothing, Mr. Darcy. The time for explanation has long passed. I have had all the explanation I need from Miss de Bourgh." Venom dripped from her words.

Though he could only see the back of her head, he knew the scowl she wore, her fine eyes drawn with fury. He drew a deep breath, fists curling at his sides. "What has my cousin told you?"

"A great deal. Of your sister and her ruin at the hands of a man you sent into the army."

Darcy nodded, a dark look on his face.

"Although it has not been said, I assume the man in question is the same Mr. Wickham who imposed upon my sister and myself." She turned slowly, eyes shooting accusations of betrayal.

"You must understand;I had no idea that he would act against anyone else. I thought—"

"It matters little what you thought, for it had no bearing on what he actually did. Apparently your family's name and reputation was far more important to you than the welfare of anyone else." She leaned forward and spat her words.

"That is entirely untrue!" He extended his hands. I know Anne has poisoned you toward me, but please, please listen!

"Not according to your betrothed." Her lips curled over the bitter word. "She also told me of her clever solution to your problem and her promise to spread gossip if you do not marry her. Apparently her character is not far different from yours."

He staggered back, knocked breathless from the blow her word struck. "That is uncalled for. You know my character—"

"She told me of your arrangement to marry, and of your argument and refusal to accept a bride who would not live at Pemberley." She paused, panting. "What does it say of your character…how could you make me an offer of marriage when you were—"

"Stop right there." He lifted his open palm in a vain attempt to stem the flow of her anger. "I was not, nor have I ever been, engaged to Anne. Surely you have heard enough from her to understand that the belief has been entirely on her side." He inched closer to her. "I know you are angry, but please hear me—"

"Angry? You believe me angry? That word does not begin to contain what I feel right now!" She threw her arms wide.

"Betrayed, deceived—" he offered, hands extended.

"Disappointed, used, toyed with!" she spat. "Meddle with the blind man's daughter— a safe enough pastime as there will be no one to avenge her!"

A firey knife slashed his chest. His face flushed with fury. "How dare you accuse me of such a thing! I have never treated your father with anything but kindness and respect."

"But what respect did you show him and his daughters when you bought that cur, Wickham, a place in the army and turned him loose to repeat his impositions on other hapless, stupid young women?"

"I had no choice. It was imperative I get him away from my sister. His…act…was revenge against me, and I could not take a chance of seeing her suffer further." He strangled on the last words.

"Really? There was nothing else you could do?" Her lip curled in a sneer.

"You know the law offers nothing of use in matter such as these. What do you imagine I could have done? Call him out to a duel? As satisfying as that might have been, I could not take such a risk. I had to protect my family, and breaking the law was not the way to do it." He raked both hands through his hair.

She panted har, her fury taking its toll. "So you took the easy way out, throwing money at your family's problem. If you had not allowed him to go free, neither I nor my sister—" Her throat burned as she rasped out the words.

"I had no way of knowing—"

"Really? You did not expect him to repeat his actions?" She could not look at him, his visage inspired revulsion.

"I told you, Wickham had a vendetta against me, and he used my sister to get his revenge. It stood to reason that having accomplished his purposes, he would not do so again. I never considered—"

"That is the point! Do you not see? You never considered anything beyond your small circle." She whirled back at him, taking a half step closer, wishing she were a man. Had I a sword myself right now… "As long as he was out of your sight, what bother was he to you? Well, Mr. Darcy, there is a wide world outside of your circle, and we were bothered by him. But of course we lower classes can fend for ourselves; obviously, we are not worthy of your attention or concern." She stomped away. The sting of the ground through the thin soles of her slippers anchored her pain and helped her find focus.

He ran after her. "I am sorry, Elizabeth. I had no idea. You are being unfair. I was so concerned for my sister I never considered what else he might do, and. If you would just stop and listen to me, consider what I am saying, I am certain you would agree."

"No, I would not." She crossed her arms, refusing to look at him.

"Your father did." He caught her arm and forced her to stop.

"You told him?" she screeched into his face. "You had the audacity to tell him but not me? He could not have possibly absolved you—"

"But he did. He understood and said it was little different than the situation with his sister."

"He told you of her?" Lizzy swallowed hard; tears pour unchecked down her face. "Do not dare compare my father's sister to yours."

"Oh, really?" he snarled. "As I see it, I am being generous to do so. My sister's seduction was forced, and I did not banish her from all she knew. Our family has embraced her and the child, providing for them in the bosom of our homes. That is more than can be said for yours." He glared coldly, dropping his hand from her arm. "I know you are famed for your astute judgment of character, but in this matter not only are you sorely mistaken. Moreover you seem to be something of a hypocrite."

She staggered back at the verbal slap. "I am the hypocrite you say? Explain to me then, if your character is so gallant then, sir, did you consider how I might feel to know that the man who asked me to marry him was already engaged to another?" She dug her nails into her palms, wishing she could put her nails to better use.

"I am not, nor have I ever been, engaged to my cousin," he snarled through gritted teeth.

"Neither she nor your aunt would agree."

"My aunt deludes herself into believing she knows the business of everyone and has the right to direct the lives of others." He reached for her hand, but she snatched it away. "Surely you, the exalted judge of character, could discern that much. Bloody hell, woman, have you not seen how she runs Rosings? Do you really believe that I would agree to bind myself to my cousin?"

She tried to look away, but he pulled her toward him and leaned close to her face, staring into her red-rimmed eyes.

"Surely you know a stallion would not bind himself to a…a…"

"A wasp? A fox?" she whispered, unable to prevent the words from tumbling forth.

"Yes, exactly," he panted, imploring her with his eyes.

"Did you know that they believed you would marry her?" Her tone softened, her ire seeming to pour off her very fingertips. She glanced at the soft ground, almost expecting to see it puddled there.

He hesitated, hanging his head. "I knew," he whispered.

Cold fury flooded over her so suddenly she shivered as the icy tendrils replaced the burning rage. "And you allowed them to continue to believe that?"

"I told them they were wrong. I argued with her, but Anne hears only what pleases her." He ground his teeth.

"So you led them to believe as they did. You did not carry the point; you did not take the effort to prevail. Once again you took the easy way out. The behavior of a truly gallant man, I am sure." She wrenched herself free of his hand, shaking away the warm sensation of his touch. "Again it seems my family and I are the ones to pay the price for your ease."

"I told you I had to resolve family business before we could wed." He pulled his hand back and and crossed his arms tightly. "You knew I was not free to marry."

"Perhaps you should have considered waiting to ask until you were."

"Perhaps I should. I am not an impulsive man by nature. I allowed the urge of the moment to carry me." He sighed and frowned. "I did not deceive you, though; I was clear with you that there were complications."

"You certainly were up front. I am just not certain you could consider breaking an engagement a mere complication. " Her eyes narrowed and her voice dropped into gravelly tones. "Is that what you consider our…understanding…a complication?"

The stones in her words stung and scratched his face. "Damn it all, Elizabeth!"

She flinched.

"I told you I was not and never have been engaged to Anne. Can you not grasp this? I never asked her to marry me. I thought our argument over her leaving Rosings had settled the matter." He tried to wipe frustration away from his face, but know it was futile.

"Apparently you were incorrect and could not take the time or trouble to check yourself."

"Elizabeth!" he growled.

"You will not address me by my Christian name; I have not given you leave to call me that. It will not do for others hear you being so familiar—"

"We are engaged," he whispered, his heart clenched.

"Are we? If seems we are no more engaged than you and your cousin." Her foot tapped rapidly, crunching on the scattered leaves.

"That is not fair." I know you are hurt, but you have always been one who hears reason! "Your father has given his blessing. He agreed that it was not wise to make it public yet."

"Because of family business! If he had any idea—"

"He knows." He scoured his face with his hands. "I told him before I left. He knows everything but the details of my sister's child and the plans for her to marry Richard's brother."

"He knows and is not appalled? How could he agree to such a thing and not tell me any of it?" She wrapped her arms tightly around her waist.

"He knew you would be hurt and wanted to protect you from it all, as I wanted to protect you from my aunt and from Anne." He took several steps towards her, but she recoiled.

"So a secret engagement that you will not admit to your family is meant to protect me? I fear this makes little sense to me. Not even a novel would attempt a plot so convoluted."

"I have told my cousin, Richard." He smiled weakly.

"Why did you not tell me of all of this? Did you think so little of me as to believe that I would not understand?" She rolled her eyes, clasping her hands tightly before her face, her voice so soft and fragile the slightest breeze would have torn through it.

"Perhaps I should have— no, I certainly should have. After Anne's promise to spread word of Georgiana's ruin if I did not acquiesce to her demands, I swore that I would not tell another soul until Georgiana was safe."

"You did not trust me."

"It was not a matter of trust. You must understand! I know you have seen what Anne is capable of. She is so self-absorbed she would think nothing of ruining the lives of my sister and her daughter to get what she wanted. How is it so different from your father's decision not to speak of—"

Her eyes widened and nostrils flared. "My father's actions are not under discussion right now; yours are."

"How is what I have done so different—"

"Stop changing the topic! That is not the point here at all. The very material issue is that you do not trust me, and I no longer believe I can trust you."

Her words hovered in the air between them, then crashed into him, cold and bitter as the winds ahead of a thunderhead. They stood staring at each other, both panting for breath.

Her own words echoed in her ears, still surprising her that she had given them voice. She watched his face as her meaning sank in.

"What is a marriage where there is no trust?" She shoved her hair back from her face, her cheeks burning. "I believe… we must consider our understanding… at an end, sir." Without waiting for a reply, she dashed past him, took the gelding's reins, and swung herself up into the saddle. She glanced backwards a moment, her heart fighting to pull her back to him, but she whipped her head around and kicked the horse into a gallop knowing he stared after her.

The horse's hooves beat a steady pattern into the ground. She focused on it, counted it, chanted it to herself, fighting to drive away the gnawing second and third thoughts that pounded at her mind. I will conquer this. I must! What a goosecap* I have been! This nonsense of romantic love is a fiction for novels. I will not… Tendrils of doubt wound around her throat, strangling her breath and her thoughts into ragged sobs, drowned out by pulsing hoof beats.

He stared after her as he had actors on a stage, unable to comprehend the conversation that had just taken place. Her figure became smaller and smaller as the gelding carried her off into the countryside. His breath left with her, until he was an empty husk.

I will not let this drop. I promised your father I would not hurt you, and I will keep that promise. I do not know how, but I will. I failed Georgiana. I cannot do it again. I will not fail you too. He sank cross-legged on the ground, head bowed, and prayed.

*goosecap: silly fellow or woman