Between Longbourn and Netherfield
Jane patted her trusty plow horse Penelope tenderly before letting loose a violent sneeze. She cringed as her horse startled slightly and cursed her disproportionately loud bodily function.
For good measure, she cursed her foolhardy sister and the rain as well. Jane was certain up until this moment she had never cursed anyone (or anything for that matter) in her life. But, it felt immensely comforting just now.
When she read Lizzie's note that she was intending to walk to Netherfield to speak with her Duke (who compromised her just the evening prior!) she left immediately. The idea that she would wander off, without a chaperone!, in light of last nights events infuriated her. Lizzie would need to get used to having others help her if they were going to come out of this mess with some semblance of dignity.
Of course, her mother demanded she ride, even with the clouds ominously dark.
She added her mother to her list of people she was cursing and giggled to herself before letting loose another thundering sneeze.
At this rate, she was going to be cursing the entire town of Meryton and all impending weather phenomena.
She was on a roll.
/
Netherfield Hall
Bingley's Study
The multitude of emotions assailing Elizabeth felt as though it were mounting with every minute. The warmth of her Duke's hands, still holding her shoulders tight. The tingle in her lips from his intoxicating kisses. The terror gripping the rest of her being as her mind raced over the Duc's words.
They would meet again.
She knew they would, his sudden retreat couldn't be anything more than strategic, but without the constant buzz of the last few days ringing in her head, she recognized the unfettered terror for what it was.
She had known when Wellesley offered to cut her contract by two years the mission would be nigh on impossible, most probably deadly. At the time, after working unrelentingly alone for five long years, it seemed like a bargain. Death or freedom.
Or, more likely, freedom in death.
A kindly clearing of a throat nudged her out of her thoughts.
"Oh! Yes, thank you, Mr. Bingley." He pulled her from her fear with his heartfelt congratulations, his smile so genuine, so pure, she couldn't help but smile back. "I am very glad to meet you as well. I do apologize for imposing on you at such an hour, I had need to speak with His Grace." She turned her smile up at the Duke, his face slack but his eyes sparkling. "Quite urgently."
Darcy's eyes warmed and she wanted to wallow in their gaze instead of her plethora of worries.
She squared her shoulders instead. Elizabeth Bennet was not made for melancholy and she would see to her problems one at a time, as best she could.
"Yes." The edges of his lips raised in a small smile just for her and he flexed his hands, still resting on her collar bones. "Quite urgently." He maintained eye contact with her but addressed Mr. Bingley. "Charles, would you excuse us, we have much to discuss-"
"I'll bet you do!" Bingley said happily and with a laugh, her fiance broke eye contact to glare at his friend menacingly.
It was adorable.
"Yes, yes, I am going!" Mr. Bingley laughed affably. "But, I am leaving the door open, mind you." He looked at the pair pointedly and her Duke glared harder. Bingley bowed to Elizabeth, still chuckling. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Elizabeth. I do hope you will stay for tea, it has just started to rain and I am sure my sister would not hear of you returning in this weather."
"Yes, Miss Elizabeth, you should stay for tea." The Duke said the word Miss as though it insulted him.
"Well, then, I believe I shall." She smiled back to him before turning to Bingley. "Thank you, Mr. Bingley."
The amiable man bowed before he quit the room, whistling a tune and with a bounce to his step.
The atmosphere changed quickly, heating as soon as Mr. Bingley was out of sight. She pulled herself from the Duke's comforting touch, her entire being rebelling against the movement.
They really did have things to discuss and the man was remarkably distracting.
His hands seemed to follow her as she stepped out of their reach, grasping for her before dropping gracefully to his side.
"Your Grace, we do have much to discuss." She took a deep breath, fighting to tamp down her slowly rising anxiety. "Do you truly wish to marry me?" She blurted out her question and forced herself to meet his eye. "You know nothing of me. You know nothing of what I have done." She chuckled but it held little humor. "I could be a horrendous fishwife."
His left eyebrow arched high on his brow but his face showed little else. "Perhaps I was looking for a fishwife for my Duchess."
She sputtered a laugh. "Then I truly hate to disappoint you, Your Grace, but I do not believe I am a fishwife."
"Pity. You showed so much potential." He smiled, unable to hide his laughter. Elizabeth watched, marveling at the transformation of his entire being when he laughed.
He sobered quickly, reverting back to his natural reserve. "But, you are correct, Miss Elizabeth, we do have much to discuss. Will you sit?" He motioned for the chair near her and she sat mechanically, still slightly dazed by his laughter. He truly was a gorgeous man.
"Before I begin, I must again apologize for my actions last night. I -" He stopped for a moment, seeming to search for words. "When I realized I had compromised you in front of the Duc, I believe I allowed myself to become... carried away."
"Three women fainted, Your Grace."
"Yes, well, like I said, carried away." He smiled again at her tease and she was sure her insides were melting. "I will need to speak to your father as soon as possible." He looked concerned briefly but he needn't have, she doubted her father would care either way.
"I am of age, Your Grace, there is no need to speak to my father."
His eyebrows drew together in question. "I would like to speak to him nonetheless."
She took another deep breath. "Were you able to get anything out of Mr. Wickham?"
He narrowed his eyes at her. "Are you avoiding the topic?"
"Yes. Absolutely." She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose, his eyebrows rose high but he remained silent, waiting. "My father is not… in the best of spirits at the moment. He… well, I believe he feels incredible guilt for my having to finish his contractual arrangement." She quirked an eyebrow. "He hasn't spoken to me since I have returned."
He looked puzzled. "Your current situation is not of your doing?"
"No, did you believe me to be that idiotic?"
He levelled an unamused look at her. "I do not believe that word ever crossed my mind in reference to yourself. But, I suppose I believed there to be a good reason. You do not strike me as an adventure seeker."
She shrugged. "When I was younger, I truly believed there was nothing I could not do. Not a thing I could not endure." She shrugged again, feeling awkward at the topic of conversation. "I have survived as best I can."
He watched her, assessing, his gaze warm and sympathetic.
"Now" she continued, not wanting to remain on the topic any longer than necessary. "Were you able to get anything out of Mr. Wickham?"
As though he could feel her discomfort he dropped the topic easily. That moment of consideration oddly enough made her want to cry. He actually cared about her comfort.
"A little. He was in quite a lot of pain." He gave her a sly look. "Your sisters did a number on his nose." Elizabeth brightened with pride. Her sister's had done a number on the man. "Richard withheld laudanum until he gave us something and he eventually told us my father utilized a coded system, which he taught to Wickham, when writing his letters. All of which he kept, to be delivered to me or my sister in the event of his death." He took a deep, shuddering breath. "It is Wickhams belief that his letters are now with the man who originally captured him, a General MacDonald."
Elizabeth nodded seriously. "If MacDonald was given his letters and they were not deemed to be of import, he would still have them. If he agreed to take them and deliver them, I am quite sure he would do so to his best ability." Her Duke looked confused for a moment so she elaborated. "He is considered honorable, even by those of us working against him."
He watched her briefly, puzzling something in his mind. "Be that as it may, we will need Wickham to decipher the letters. Even if nothing comes of them, MacDonald will have knowledge of my father's location or, at the very least, the identity of the person he was handed to. But, Elizabeth" He looked at her with grave determination. "I do not want you coming with me to Spain. Richard has agreed to go back with me but I will not take my wife into an ongoing war."
Elizabeth felt a tingle run down her spine when he called her his wife. She smiled, as much from the sensation as the protectiveness of her Duke.
"I would not want to go to Spain, Your Grace. And, you are lucky neither of us will need to as I would not want my husband there either." He narrowed his eyes at her, looking oddly conflicted, so she explained. "MacDonald is no longer in Spain, he and most of the Grande Armee are heading north, to Russia of all places."
"Richard fought against him in Spain. He was quite certain the General was still there when he left."
"He most likely was." She nodded. "Do you remember when I told you of my uncle?"
Elizabeth rose and walked to a large globe, placed in a stately fashion near them.
Darcy had risen from his seat to stand beside her, his presence unbalancing in such proximity.
"Yes, He was on his way to Belgium, was it?"
"Indeed. He is gathering information on the approaching army." She took a deep breath. "Napoleon intends to invade Russia. From what the we have been able to gather he is on his way there now."
She looked down to the globe and traced a trail from the Italian coast to St. Petersburg. "Here." She circled a portion of the former Holy Roman Empire. "This area is technically occupied by France but the people are rising against them, and it is friendly for the most part. We could intercept MacDonald here, while he is busy with the transportation of an entire army and preparing for war on a new front."
Her Duke studied the map intently, absently caressing her hand and inadvertently making her mind go entirely blank.
"Would here suffice?" He took the her hand still on the globe and gently moved it slightly.
Elizabeth looked down to the spot. "Yes" She swallowed to hold back a groan as he continued his ministrations. "I can think of no reason why it wouldn't. It's a logical path northward so the Armee should be going through at least near it. Does it hold any significance to you?" She looked up to him in question.
He shrugged. "I know of someone who will be desirous of returning there. He will be of help getting there."
Her eyebrows raised but he continued caressing both her hands now and she was not positive she would ever fully regain conscious thought.
"That will be fine." She barely recognized the low, nearly hoarse voice coming from her lips. She cleared her throat and withdrew a hand, leaving one in his grasp for good measure. "Who is this person?"
Darcy chuckled, eyes twinkling. "A friend." Was all he would give her. "You will meet him soon enough, I believe. I will write to him immediately" He moved to caress her cheek. "Now, where were we?" He murmured softly before leaning down to kiss her lips lightly.
Her mind was officially gone and she had no desire to find it at the moment.
/
Darcy's own mind whirled from the feel of Elizabeth's soft lips against his. The feel of her in his arms coupled with the sounds she made as he kissed her with ever gathering fervor was very nearly overwhelming. His knees grew weak as she mewled lightly when he pulled on her beguiling lower lip.
He would need to stop.
The thought of his becoming overwrought and pushing her too far sobered him quickly. He had already compromised her into marriage and, though she was taking it in stride, he felt an immense weight of guilt at forcing her hand. He wanted her, that was sure (and painfully obvious) but, he wanted her to want him as well.
He also had many things he needed to tell her before they married.
Those thoughts brought him from his happy stupor fully.
He pulled back and took a moment to marvel at her upturned face. Flush with emotion, eyes closed, lips parted ever so slightly, she was breathtaking. She slowly opened her expressive brown eyes to him and his breath fled in a loud exhale. If he could steal moments like this every day he would be, by far and away, the luckiest man in all of the world.
He smiled to her softly and kissed the tip of her nose in a show of affection he had never even contemplated.
"I'm afraid we still have much to discuss." His smile turned devious. "You are far too distracting."
She laughed and the deep, throaty sound washed over his being. It took all his willpower to stop him from initiating another kiss. "I believe it is you doing most of the distracting, Your Grace."
He scoffed in mock affront and gave her waist a squeeze. "Not possible, Miss Elizabeth."
She laughed again and he decided very quickly he would also spend the rest of his days eliciting that sound as much as humanly possible.
Before he could either cave to his cravings and commence kissing the enticing woman before him or begin the long, painful, but all too necessary task of warning her of his family's tattered reputation, they were stopped by the sound of the front door being opened for a new visitor.
Darcy could hear the rain punishing the facade of the house, what had started as an average sprinkling of english rain had transformed quickly into a raging downpour, any visitor coming in from that storm would be soaked through to the bone.
He and Elizabeth had frozen in place to better hear the goings on in the front of the house. As soon as a female voice, he belatedly recognized as Miss Bennet's, wafted into their room, his Elizabeth was darting out of his arms and into the hall, eyes wide.
He moved quickly after her, catching up in a few long strides.
A loud boom echoed through the foyer and he grabbed Elizabeth by the arm to pull her into him, not looking for the source of the sound but focusing on keeping her out of harms way.
He pulled her into his chest and pushed against the wall, his mind racing as he began looking around them for their attacker.
The sound of muffled laughter eventually broke through his frantic searching.
The boom sounded again, only this time he could hear the pleading, feminine apology that followed.
"Oh, I am s-s-s-s" He looked back to the front door, loosing his grip on Elizabeth, to see her sister, Miss Bennet, standing in the doorway, mortified and sopping wet. She seemed to be stifling another sneeze and it took a moment before she could continue. "I apologize, S-s-sir." She trembled slightly and he pulled back fully, allowing Elizabeth to run to her sister.
"Jane!" She called out as she ran the length of the hallway to her sister, still wiping at the butlers coat where she had clearly sneezed on him. She looked up from her work when she heard her sister call to her and smiled before sneezing again miserably.
"Oh, Jane." Elizabeth soothed. "Why did you come here?"
Miss Bennet trembled again, looking flushed, either from fever or embarrassment. "Y-y-you" her teeth seemed to chatter and it took her a moment to calm herself. "You should not be h-here with-without a chaperone, L-lizzie."
Elizabeth's entire being drooped. He could see the guilt pulling her down.
"Why did you not take the carriage?" Elizabeth asked quietly.
"M-m-mama needed it."
Elizabeth cringed but before she could say anything Richard came bounding down the stairs, eyes wide.
"Who was shot?" He demanded, looking to Darcy across the entryway, not in view of the sisters yet.
Miss Bennet, if possible, grew more flushed a frown forming even as she began to sniffle in preparation for the pending sneeze.
Richard came into her view as soon as she let loose her latest, possibly loudest, auditory assault and he froze. His eyes changing from excited panic to gentle worry in a flash.
"Miss Bennet." Even Darcy could here the reverence in his voice. "Are you well?"
She smiled a flat smile and tried wiping her nose with her soaked handkerchief.
"Allow me." He pulled out his handkerchief and handed it to her before swooping her into his arms.
She hardly seemed startled at the motion, nestling her head in the crook of his neck easily.
Richard looked back to Darcy, the gentleness in his eyes fading back into panic, but for entirely different reasons.
"Call for the apothecary, now." He growled the order before looking down at the wilting Miss Bennet. "And the surgeon. And anyone else with any medical expertise." He looked back to the butler. "You, sir, I will place Miss Bennet in the room next to mine, I believe it was prepared before our arrival, I need a fire made and tea brought up immediately." The butler nodded but did not yet move. "Now!" His growl was incredibly menacing and the butler moved quickly to his task.
Richard turned to Miss Elizabeth, seemingly prepared to yell an order at her but Darcy stepped forward, placing his hand on her shoulder and Richard closed his mouth and took a deep breath before he continued in a softer, but still commanding tone. "Miss Elizabeth, Miss Bennet will need a change of clothes, she is soaked through, will you write to your home to have them brought?"
He did not wait for her to so much as nod before he was bounding up the stairs, cradling Miss Bennet in his arms as though she were precious.
He looked down to Elizabeth, openly gawking at his retreating form.
Bingley casually strolled down the hall opposite them.
"I say, that was quite the racket." He smiled to them happily, his smile fading as two glares were directed his way. "What? What did I say?"
Darcy groaned loudly.
"Bingley, we need you to send a footman for the doctor, Miss Bennet just arrived and she took ill on the ride here."
Bingley's face turned from slight amusement to deadly serious and he had to give his friend credit, when he was given a task, and precise direction, he was unstoppable.
"I will do so immediately." He turned to find a footman and Miss Elizabeth stopped him.
"I wonder if I could also trouble you to send to Longbourn for some of my sister's necessities, Mr. Bingley? I'm afraid we may need to stay the evening, depending on her illness."
The serious expression his friend held stayed in place but he seemed to be simultaneously suppressing a smile.
"Of course, Miss Elizabeth. I will send my coach to gather the doctor and her necessities right away. You will need help as well. I will ask Miss Mary for assistance." He nodded to himself as though it hadn't been his idea and darted away, a man on a mission.
Elizabeth now gawked at his retreating form and Darcy chuckled at her.
The men of the house had all lost their senses and none of them were in their right minds to care.
/