The entire way Darcy's head pulsed with the pain that followed his anger. The tight feeling where he clenched his teeth and his chest was so tense that the bones' hurt never left.
If they had forced her to marry that brute, he would murder them all.
Elizabeth was too strong to be broken in a month. She hadn't married him. Had not, had not, had not.
If they had broken her, she would have sent word of her planned marriage to Georgiana.
Darcy held on to that thought.
It wasn't how he had planned, but he was riding to offer for the lady he had chosen. She would be grateful for the rescue and in time fall in love with him.
A chill wind blew. Darcy had forgotten the way the cold of an English winter could bite through a man's clothes. He should have borrowed an overcoat like Tomlinson had. Darcy drove the horse too fast for the first half the distance and was forced to let it continue at a walk for a while.
Tomlinson caught up with him; he had been left behind earlier by Darcy's faster pace. He wore a gray coat over his uniform, and he'd taken his soldiers cap off to rest on the pommel of the saddle. He was a decent horseman, but the way he could not quite hold his head right looked painful to Darcy.
"What should I expect to happen?"
"Nothing, I hope. But…"
"I shall follow your lead."
Darcy shook his head, a small jerky denial. "No. I am too angry. Do not trust me — if I attack someone, attempt to stop me."
The road was not crowded in December once they got several miles away from London. They rode past fields bordered with hedges and small farmsteads with pillars of grey smoke rising out from their chimneys. It was a cold day and sensible men stayed indoors if they could.
The afternoon was advanced when they reached Longbourn. The long wooden stables and a rough stone barn stood to one side. The greystone steeple of a church poked above the leafless hedges a few hundred yards away.
One of the windows was boarded over with large sawn planks of wood pounded around it. Had Elizabeth tried to escape and this been the response? She had depended on being able to at least see the front yard, and then they took it from her.
A confused groom came out from the stables, surprised by the arrival of visitors so late. Darcy clambered off his horse and tottered as the muscles in his back were stiff from the unaccustomed exercise. Strangely he felt no pain. Nothing but the radiating rage. The groom automatically took the reins. Darcy clenched the hilt of his sword so tightly that he could feel the bones of his palm rubbing up against it through the skin.
He strode evenly to the door and pounded on the wood with his bare fist, ignoring the brass knocker. The door rattled in its frame.
Darcy recognized the housekeeper, Mrs. Hill, when she opened the door. She was the same woman who'd been there during his visit to Mr. Bennet. She blinked up at him from under her sprigged cap.
Darcy spoke in a harsh, hissing tone. "Miss Elizabeth. I will see her."
"Captain Darcy! Returned at last from India." She pressed her hands together and looked side to side. "Perhaps… Miss Bennet is not accepting visitors. Ill. She has been…ill."
"I WILL see Lizzy!"
"I can't… I can't. It would be my job. The master has the key… You must speak to Mr. Collins. He is the one who—"
"Yes. Mr. Collins. Bring me to Mr. Collins. I do wish to see Mr. Collins." Darcy flexed his hand, consciously releasing and re-grabbing the hilt of his sword.
"If…if you wait here, I shall see if he is willing to accept a caller at this late hour."
Darcy walked past Mrs. Hill who ineffectually muttered, "Wait, just wait. You should wait."
The door to the study was closed. Darcy turned to Mrs. Hill who clasped and unclasped her hands endlessly. "In there?"
When Mrs. Hill did not deny it, Darcy hurled the door open. Its knob slammed forcefully against the opposite wall. Mr. Collins startled from where he sat behind a hardwood desk scribbling into an account book. He stared at Darcy. Darcy saw as if in a dream his mouth slowly move with words of exclamation that Darcy could not hear over the rushing in his ears.
This creature had agreed to sell Elizabeth to a man no better than a rapist.
Underneath his murderous rage a calm rational part of Darcy had decided that negotiations with Mr. Collins would go easier if he was convinced that Darcy was so unhinged he might easily decide to murder him.
Darcy found himself at the desk without awareness of the last seconds. He glared into the eyes of the frightened man, and put his hand on a knife in his coat.
He imagined himself stabbing Mr. Collins. Mrs. Hill had run off to retrieve a footman and Mrs. Bennet. Tomlinson tensely stood at Darcy's shoulder watching him cautiously.
Mr. Collins had said something, but Darcy had heard nothing of it. Darcy glared into his eyes which were so wide that Darcy saw white all the way around the irises. "I will. Know this. Elizabeth is my… my… you will not sell her. I will kill you if you try—" Words left Darcy.
"Who are you?"
Tomlinson said, "He is Colonel Fitzwilliam Darcy. You'd best produce the lady."
"A relative of her little rich friend? I tell you this is none of your business. Miss Elizabeth is under my protection."
The knife came out of Darcy's coat and he stabbed through the account book and gouged the table beneath it. "Do not play games! You are no protector."
A footman and the butler entered with Mrs. Hill and Mrs. Bennet. They stared frightened at Darcy and Tomlinson. From the edge of his eye Darcy saw how their eyes focused on the knife he now held in front of Collins's face.
Seeing other people, Mr. Collins sat straighter and said with an odd confidence, as though he had no fear of Darcy's knife, "I do not know what you are about, but you both are uninvited, and I demand you leave."
In that an instant Darcy nearly stabbed Mr. Collins through the eye. Instead with a shaky hand he pushed the knife back into its pouch.
"Are you still imprisoning Elizabeth in her room?"
"Imprisoning? Of course not. Who told you such a story? They lied about me, and I'll sue them for defamation. She has been ill, that is all. That is all. I wouldn't lock up a young lady. I demand that you leave, my servants will drag you out if you don't, and I'll set the law upon you."
Darcy showed a toothy grin and spoke in a light tone, as though it was a matter of no importance, "I think they would only transport me if I killed you. You see, since the fever I took when I received this"— Darcy tapped his scars — "I have had trouble controlling my temper. Please, cease challenging it."
In the silence that followed the statement, Mr. Collins turned whiter. Tomlinson bared his teeth, and looked with his tilted neck like a vicious, deformed monster.
Mrs. Bennet exclaimed, "Captain Darcy? Returned from India, and here to visit our Lizzy. You look well, very well indeed." Her voice took on a sly tone, "My condolences, I heard your brother died… He is dead? And you have no other brothers?"
"No."
"So sad that he died without marrying. I once hoped he'd look at my Lizzy when she visited your sister. It would have been a fine match, with that large estate Lizzy and my departed husband described. You must have been hurt to return to England only to hear your brother was gone."
The tension in Darcy did not allow him to feel any grief. He believed Mrs. Bennet had chosen to be his ally in this matter. Darcy said, "It is a tragedy. I only learned this morning. But the estate is entailed, so I have inherited the entirety of it. The landholdings are vast; my father's income was greater than ten thousand a year. I am now a very rich man."
Mrs. Bennet's eyes were bright and beady. She clapped her hands together enthusiastically. "Oh! Ten thousand a year. That is as good as a lord."
"Better, even, than most baronets." Darcy spoke with a false urbanity, keeping a grip on his anger. "Especially those with such great debts that they had no choice but to let out their ancestral home."
"Quite true, quite true." She clapped her hands together again. "You must be here to see Lizzy. She has of late… You see, a man has been courting her. A man of great consequence. Nothing to yours. Lizzy's position with him is delicate. If he were to hear that we let you see her, he may get the wrong idea. I can't let her see another man unless…unless I knew he would—"
"You disgust me more than that slave trader. She is your daughter." Darcy breathed deep and slow. His hand was on the sword grip. His headache throbbed and pulsed like a living thing, jumping from the area beneath his skull to behind his eyes to the top of his head. "I am here to marry Miss Elizabeth, if she will have me. You need not bargain to convince me."
"Heavens! I am so pleased. She did refuse Sir Clement, but she is such good friends with your sister. I do not fear that. I shall bring her down immediately."
"Wait." Mr. Collins stood up. His fingers were shaky. "What about my friend, Sir Clement. I promised him Miss Lizzy, and he has been so patient."
Darcy glared at him, and Mr. Collins flinched backwards, taking small steps until he was against the bookcase behind him. However, Darcy's all-consuming rage had passed. He felt sick and strained. He wished to have nothing to do with anyone here. They were horrible persons.
Standing as far back from Darcy as he could, Mr. Collins said, "I spend very much to support my daughter-in-law's family. An enormous amount. If you are to marry her sister, you should promise to do as much. Perhaps they ought to live with you, as your estate is so much larger."
"You agreed to lock Elizabeth up for a thousand pounds."
"I have done nothing wrong. Nothing."
"And you will get nothing from me."
"Then I will throw her family out, and you will be forced to let them live with you."
Mrs. Bennet gasped. "Captain Darcy, do say you will be generous."
Darcy glared at her. She would never live at Pemberley. But he'd thought about what bribe he would offer on the road. "I will give the unmarried daughters dowries whose income will be paid to Mrs. Bennet until they marry or come of age. Three thousand in government funds for each." Elizabeth wrote fondly of her sisters, and they had nothing to do with the situation. "Mrs. Bennet might use the money to pay rent for lodgings, or to take on more of the expense of entertainments. Or not. Mr. Collins, you will get nothing but a bullet through the eye from me directly."
Mr. Collins looked at Mrs. Bennet with a thoughtful frown. She signaled something to him with a gesture Darcy failed to interpret. Mr. Collins pulled a key from the inside of his desk. "I will bring Miss Elizabeth down. But, if she won't have you with that hideous scar, I'll lock her up again."