Chapter 11:

Elizabeth walked out of the mistress' bedroom with her head held high. She was wearing one of Georgiana's older morning dresses that fit her quite nicely and was befitting of her station as Mrs. Darcy. Her hair was pulled back in a flattering chignon, that exposed the back of her neck and made her look beautiful, elegant, and tall.

She may not feel confident, but Elizabeth Bennet was not one to allow her courage to fail her.

Lizzy walked through the hallway, the first time seeing it since she had arrived, and she was once again amazed by the unspoken beauty surrounding her. The walls were a cream color with gold trimmings throughout, the wallpaper elegant and refined. She walked down the staircase, letting her fingers softly glide down the railing, the sun shining from behind her, as the many windows in the house glistened with the burst of light.

The footman saw her in awe—she was beautiful, that all the servants had quietly agreed on, but to see her head held high as she about to confront Lady Catherine, a task they would never want, she ought to be brave. For the servants were loyal and had been there for some time to know that Lady Catherine made her presence known and when she barged midday and demanded to see the lady who presided in this house, the servants felt sorry for the new Mrs. Darcy, but somehow they also felt defensive for her. She was their new mistress and none of them wanted to see her hurt. But now, it seemed, it was Lady Catherine who would be put her in place. And they would all have volunteered to be in the room when that would happen.

The footman, whose musings we have just heard, held the door open for Mrs. Darcy and allowed her into the smaller drawing room, where Lady Catherine was already sitting, watching her as she stepped in with hungry eyes.

"Miss Elizabeth" said Lady Catherine, a smirk on her face, as she looked her up and down. Lizzy could tell she was evaluating her clothing, her walk, and even the expressions on her face.

"Lady Catherine" said Elizabeth, gliding into the drawing room, her morning dress glistening with the sunlight pouring in from the windows. The servants had pulled back the curtains earlier in the morning—the room shined from all ends and Lizzy could not help but catch her breath at the splendor.

Lizzy sat down across from Lady Catherine, her face as expressionless as possible and graciously nodded when one of the maids walked in, hesitated, and then brought a tray of tea and refreshments and place it by Elizabeth, much to the dismay of Lady Catherine, whose face was burning in anger and perhaps a hint of confusion.

"Would you care to explain how you are here, in my nephew's house, unattended?" she spat, who now stood, her intimidating demeanor not bothering Lizzy. Lizzy smiled at her and calmly motioned for her to please sit down.

"How dare you invite me to sit down in my own nephew's house?! You little chit!" she screamed.

"I am afraid, Lady Catherine, that that is neither here nor there" said Elizabeth coldly. "Would you like some tea?"

"No" said Lady Catherine, pursing her lips. "I see you shall not make this easy" she said, reluctantly sitting down.

"I do not have the pleasure of understanding you" said Elizabeth, drinking from the tea nonchalantly, pretending she was conversing with one of her sisters, in her own home.

"I have heard the most alarming report" began Lady Catherine, "And I came straight here to see for myself the truth. I was with Georgiana when we heard that Mr. Darcy, my dearest nephew, married a Miss Elizabeth Bennet from Hertfordshire, a woman of inferior birth, with no connections, and nothing to account for!"

"I see" said Lizzy calmly, "And where is Miss Darcy?"

"She went upstairs to her room" said Lady Catherine, "She was tired from the journey."

"And you wanted to speak privately" said Lizzy with a smirk.

"Indeed" said Lady Catherine. "So, do you deny these preposterous rumors?!"

"You have called them rumors. If you were so unconvinced of their truth, why bother making the trip? It is not an easy journey—were you not in the carriage for six hours?" asked Elizabeth, knowing she was overstepping but unable to help herself, after all, Lady Catherine had insulted her.

"I am not a twit to not realize that you and Mr. Darcy both left Kent the same day" said Lady Catherine, "I demand to know what happened, for I know that Mr. Darcy would never marry you by choice!"

"What exactly are you implying, Lady Catherine, I do not have the pleasure of understanding you" said Elizabeth, placing her cup down on the table by her seat, her shaking from emotion.

"Did you compromise my nephew? Has the marriage been consummated—perhaps we can still get it annulled!" she spat.

Elizabeth stood up, remaining her cool. She fixed the skirt of her dress and then looked at Lady Catherine in the eye, without fear.

"You have insulted me beyond measure, I do not believe there is anything left to say, if you will excuse me" said Elizabeth, walking past Lady Catherine.

"I have not dismissed you!" screamed Lady Catherine, the footmen recoiling as she walked past them.

"I am afraid you are in my house, Lady Catherine" said Elizabeth with a smirk. "You must be tired from your journey from London, I shall ask Mrs. Reynolds to fix up your room. Though you have insulted me in every way possible, you are still our aunt. And though I know you are not fond of me, I know you are smart enough to know that it will not do for you to spread these rumors or not support our marriage. I love Mr. Darcy, with all my heart, and since I know you like to be useful, I shall thank you now for having me at Rosings for it was where we became taken with one another."ever rec

Lady Catherine was flabbergasted. She opened her mouth to speak but knew not what to say. She had n set down by a nobody, in her own family's home. But Miss Bennet did not wait for her to respond, she left the drawing room and went to speak with Mrs. Reynolds, instructing her to prepare a room for Lady Catherine.

"And if you could please tell my sister that I should love to see her. I will be in my room" said Elizabeth, speaking as if she were the mistress of this home. Lizzy waited until she walked into her room to sit upon her chair and allow the tears to fall. She did not know if she should have told the truth to Lady Catherine or if she should have spoken as she did, but all she knew was that she need Fitzwilliam home, as soon as possible.

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Mr. Darcy, the Colonel, and seven men rode into the day, towards a village nearby Pemberley where they knew George Wickham was hiding. The Colonel, ever the military man, had already sent a man to call for the magistrate and have everything in place for this scoundrel to be sent to rot in prison or better yet, to be shot or hanged. Richard knew that Darcy did not have the guts to kill him, but he, would have no scruples. He had seen enough men be killed to understand that life and death were a process in life, and this man, if anyone would dare call him thus, had done enough damage. Richard would not kill him for no reason, but any provocation, and that scum would be removed from their lives, forever.

They rode through a forest, their eyes and ears alert for any signs of traps. They thought they were surprising Wickham but as much as they despised him, they both knew George was clever.

"Ahoy!" said one of their men, his horse neighing, as he jumped over a tree that had fallen. "Weapons out!" he said, reaching for his pistol and holding it up in the air. Something seemed off about that tree and they instantly looked around.

The rest of the party slowed down, as a man walked out of the woods, followed by another three, likewise holding pistols.

"Good morning, Fitzwilliam" said George Wickham, his voice smooth and menacing. He looked cool, calm, and collected.

"Wickham" said Mr. Darcy, his eyes peering into George's once handsome face. Somehow, now with the way he was smiling, he looked ugly, his handsome features twisted into something repulsive. Images from their childhood seemed to flash by his eyes, the boys playing together as children, the late Mr. Darcy praising young Wickham for doing well in school, Fitzwilliam finding George with a maid, Wickham next to Georgiana, smirking at Darcy who had caught them. They seemed to come all at once, followed by feelings of anger, mistrust, and pain. They had been raised as friends, how had it come to this?

"I see you remember me" said Wickham, smirking as he said something that he knew would perturb Darcy. "It must be terrible for you to not know everything—to not be in control."

"Do you remember this?" he said nonchalantly, lifting a letter from his pocket. "No?" he asked again, laughing, seeing Mr. Darcy's confused face. "It is a letter you wrote to Miss Bennet, the chit you are currently living with."

"How dare you speak thus of my wife" said Mr. Darcy, his legs squeezing the horse, ready to pounce on that piece of scum.

Mr. Wickham looked at Mr. Darcy in the eye and laughed, an evil cackle ringing in the air, the trees trembling from his wicked voice.

Richard looked at Wickham nervously, he knew what he was about to do and there was nothing he could do to prevent it.

"Have you not asked her how you got to be married? Has she not told you the truth?" asked Wickham, loving the pain that each of his words was causing Fitzwilliam, the pain etched in his handsome face.

"You are not married!" he spat, laughing. "She lied to you."

"You are lying" said Darcy, his voice failing him. Could Elizabeth had lied? Had he taken advantage of her? He could not clear his thoughts but he felt a rage like no other and the more that Wickham talked, the more angry he felt.

"Darcy" said Richard, feeling he need to placate the situation. "Do not listen to him." But Mr. Darcy saw Richard's eyes and saw the truth at once.

"You knew?" asked Darcy at Richard, whose shame was revealed by his eyes looking down.

"How does it feel to have everyone you have trusted turn on you? Your father, your sister, your cousin, and even your so called wife!" said Wickham, bestowing a final blow with his words.

"And how does it feel to know that you life has come to this?" said Richard, pushing his horse forward and taking out his pistol and shooting directly into Wickham's heart. George fell backwards, the evil laugh still etched on his face, as he hit the floor. His men, or his cowards, dropped their pistols and ran back into the trees, their feet crunching on branches and leaves as they went.

Wickham was not the only thing that fell backwards and died in that forest. Mr. Darcy felt his heart be pulled out of him, as he felt the betrayal from Elizabeth and even Richard. They knew. No one told him. He could not make sense of what had happened, and as he looked at Wickham on the floor, blood pouring out of him, he could look no more. They were an hour away from Pemberley and without thinking, Darcy nudged his horse and left the scene, eager to be back home.

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