22. Fools

" I'm gonna leave my body, Move it out to high above, I'm gonna lose my mind, History keep pulling me down..."

The Jerusalem happened to be a few yards away from the pond only, we trotted there easily, and George lost no time in asking in which chamber was Mr Bingley stationed.

I took a deep breath before we got up the stairs.

I felt it wasn't going to be good.

But right as Mr Bennett went tumbling into the room, George caught my wrist and pulled me back into the corridor, well, a little more like a parlour really.

"George, what are you-?"

He pushed a finger on my lips, and smiled.

As Amanda entered the room after Mr and Mrs, George pulled me into a side-room, and lost no time in kissing every inch of my face he could reach, though I must more appreciated when he kissed my lips.

"God I have missed you!"

I took his face into my hands, caressing his cheeks with my thumbs, and kissed his lips as softly as I could. "And I you, George. And I you." Then I let my hands trail down to his hands, and squeezed them. "But we have to get back to our company or it'll be suspicious."

He smirked. "And is it?"

I shook my head and rolled my eyes. "Oh, it definitely is, Mr Wickham. Although I am well-educated and won't have you here and there right now."

He chuckled but manifested no surprise whatsoever to my choice of words. Instead, he kissed me one more time and pulled me out.

At the same time we both heard a colourful "Imbecile!" coming from the opened door of Bingley's room, and a clash of metal against wood, then of wood against flesh, and finally, of flesh against marble.

"Oh, God no!" I ran inside.

It was as I feared. Mr Bennett had challenged Bingley into a duel, and had ended opening his skull on the mantelpiece.

Amanda immediately played nurse and went into the parlour to fetch for cloth. I could hear the ripping from my spot at Mr Bennett's side, trying as much as I could to pull him up into a seated position.

"Number 18, Clifford Street. Quick as you can! Go!" I rolled my eyes at Darcy's nonsense, and as soon as Amanda came bolting back into the room, he stopped her. "I sent for my physician in Mayfair, he will be here within the hour."

Amanda glared at him, a thing I did not think her possible of doing. "In an hour he could be dead! He's lost half a pint in half-an-hour, Darcy, you do the maths!"

As she knelt next to me, I sent her a proud glance, which she returned with a quick tugging of the corner of her lips.

George took the cloth from her and started wiping at Bennett's skull. I did the same, not at all minding the blood oozing from the wound.

"Foolish business, bleeding on a fellow's rugs this time of year. What would Lady Catherine say?" I shushed him and he winced as the cloth touched his exposed flesh.

"This physician of yours, Mr Darcy, can he do stitches?"

"Stitches? He's not a dressmaker!"

I glared up at him, and looked up at George.

Amanda sighed and gave us more cloth, while I couldn't help but notice the concern in my lover's eyes.

Bad.

"Oh God! I've let the woman I love slip through my fingers like mercury and now her father lies dying by my hand!" I looked up at Bingley while George was rolling Mr Bennett's head in the remaining bandages.

I got up and out to wipe my hands, getting into the maid's room where George had so not-surprisingly claimed my lips. I smiled at the thought, all the while wiping blood from my hands.

"What can you possibly be thinking about?"

I whirled around, and there he was, wiping his own hands, and staring at me as if I was an angel.

I smiled up at him. "I felt ridiculously uncaring for thinking about your lips on mine while wiping a good man's blood from my fingers."

I had advanced while speaking, and soon George's lips came crashing on mine hungrily.

I couldn't help but wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him closer, which resulted into my dress being stenched when his own hands came encircling my waist.

"Now tell me, when were you about to tell me about your true origins?"

I paced backwards, gazing into his hazelnut eyes. "What?"

He smiled. "I am far from being an idiot, my love. I had understood ages ago you weren't from here. Now I understand there's even more behind the expression. So?"

I sighed in surprise and sat back onto a counter, stunned. "Wow. You. Amaze me."

"That's the tone." I smiled up at his remark.

"I am from London."

"But?"

I smiled wider and came to clench his hands in mine. "You're a character in a book."

His eyes widened. "Really?" I nodded. "Am I described as handsome as I am?"

I chuckled. "Oh yes, but see, in that book, you're the real bad guy. Lydia runs away with you, and you have to marry her."

He made a disgusted noise. "Please... Never that."

I smiled and kissed the tip of his nose. "And that's all you feel about it?"

"No, I feel something else right now which is crazy."

I pecked him on the lips. "Crazier than me falling in love with the most famous womanizer in literature? I doubt it."

He smiled. "In fact, I was wishing I could move there with you. I am tired about this life. Bowing to everyone, smiling, being a hypocrite, I'm done with it."

My eyes widened. "You want to come with me to the twenty-first century London?" He nodded, not even questioning the century thing. "Right. But ask first."

I thought he would have asked what I was talking about, but of course not.

He knew what I was waiting for.

So he surprised me when he got onto his knee, still caressing the back on my hands in his.

"Miss Angelina Johnson, will you marry me into your world?"

I chuckled and knelt to kiss him full on the mouth. "Clearly I will."

And there began our happily ever after...