Author's Note: Thank you so much for all your reviews. Because of some of the things that you have said, I am trying to fill some of the holes in the plot and to finally see how I want to get us to our HEA. Darcy will have to work some to win back Elizabeth's regard.

This chapter is the reveal as to the "who", but the "why" will not be revealed for several chapters.

Thanks for reading. This is unbeta'd. All the mistakes are my own. Please review.

Chapter 6

March 7, 1812

Chilton Cottage, Hampshire

Darcy sat in the upstairs sitting room at the only desk in the cottage catching up on his correspondence as he waited for the apothecary to complete his examination.

Looking idly around the room, it appeared that his wife had converted this room into a library. He now recalled that they had that in common: a love of books. How singular.

New shelving lined three walls. He counted five crates of books waiting to be unpacked while a table held more books that appeared to be in the process of being cataloged and sorted. Earlier, when he had investigated to determine the source of the treasure trove, he had noted several first additions and several noteworthy titles, all carrying bookplates from Longbourn. He surmised that her father was in the process of bestowing his entire collection on Elizabeth.

He wondered where she had gotten the funds to have the shelves put in. They were solid oak that had been sanded and stained to a rich golden hue. He could not recall any costly expenditures in Mrs. Morris's reports, but he supposed that her father had sent the funds along with the books, for surely her pin money could not cover the cost of the renovations to the room.

He experienced what was now becoming a familiar twinge of guilt as he was, again, confronted with the poor situation that he had imposed on his wife. Her pin money was just one of the things that was becoming an embarrassment to him. He had already informed Mrs. Morris to include Theo's pay in the regular household expenses. Hiring the man had been quite prudent, and he would not require Elizabeth to take his wages out of her meager allowance. It had never occurred to him that a house full of women and one old man did not make for a very secure situation.

Hearing voices in the downstairs hallway, Darcy assumed that the apothecary was preparing to depart. He stood and prepared to go down to intercept him.

Mrs. Morris met him on the landing. "Sir, the Vicar and his wife, Mr. and Mrs. Sanders have come to call. I showed them into the front parlor."

Darcy stifled a scowl and followed her to greet the couple. Bowing to them both he said, "Mr. and Mrs. Sanders, how good of you to call. I am Fitzwilliam Darcy, but I am sorry to say that my wife, who I understand you are already acquainted with, is unable to join us due to an injury that she sustained two days ago."

The young vicar returned his bow and replied, "It is an honor to meet you, sir. And yes, we have enjoyed coming to know your wife. She is a delightful asset to the community. We heard about her accident and are praying for her speedy recovery. Ice skating can be quite hazardous, especially in these parts, where the ponds may not freeze uniformly. It is a relief that the injury was no worse."

"Mr. Howard is with her now and I am anticipating his report. We are hoping for an encouraging prognosis from him. May I offer you some tea?"

"Thank you, but we will decline. We will not stay, knowing that you are anxious to hear from Mr. Howard," as the couple stood once again to their feet. The vicar paused and then said, "Before we leave, may I inquire if you are related to the Darcys of Derbyshire? I served as a curate in Buxton. There was a magnificent estate nearby that was owned by a Darcy. My wife and I toured it on our wedding trip. Pemberley is the name if I recall correctly." His wife nodded enthusiastically.

Darcy shifted uncomfortably in embarrassment. "Why, yes that property belongs to me."

He could tell that his admission had surprised the couple. Based on the cottage where his wife resided, they must have assumed that he was a poorer cousin to the Darcys of Pemberley.

Indeed, the vicar shifted his eyes uneasily around the small parlor and gave a nervous laugh. "Well, it is a small world. Magnificent estate. Truly magnificent. Ah, we really should be going. It was nice to make your acquaintance. Please let us know if there is anything that we can do for you or Mrs. Darcy."

After seeing them out to their waiting gig, Darcy stood in contemplation in the small entry hall. When he had made the arrangements to have his unwanted wife installed in this forgotten part of Hampshire, he had never considered that he would need to visit there himself. He had simply wanted to place her where he would not have to encounter her again. With that in mind, he had chosen it out of all of his other holdings because it was situated in a small community with little interaction with London society. Yet, it was close enough to town for him to keep tabs on things to ensure that she did not do something else to embroil him in another scandal. The cottage he had chosen on the estate had been part of the retribution that he had wanted to dole out to his pernicious bride. He had spent less than a quarter-hour touring it when he had come down to set up the household. However, now, as he looked around him, he had to admit that the cottage was an embarrassment to the Darcy name.

If he had not been forced to stay here for the past two days and meet the people in the local area, he would not have given it a passing thought. But having been here and met these people, he saw how it must appear to them.

On the other hand, it appeared that Elizabeth had taken this very uninspiring cottage and turned it into a comfortable and, yes, an inviting home. He could see the evidence of her hand in the needlepoint cushions and the lace doilies that she had used to cover the worn upholstery. The library upstairs and the pianoforte in the back sitting room added to the appeal of the cottage. The air carried her unique scent, lavender and roses. Her determination to thrive in such reduced circumstances shamed him. To emphasize the point, a mail coach chose that moment to roar past the cottage causing the windows to rattle. The house was entirely too close to the road. The only comforts he had given her had been the upgraded plumbing and kitchen.

At that moment, the apothecary descended the stairs. Darcy showed him into the parlor and asked a passing maid to have tea brought in.

Darcy looked expectantly at the man. "Mr. Howard, how did you find my wife? Is she beginning to heal?"

The first night after her injury had been frightening for the entire household. After seeing Wickham placed in the village holding cell behind the blacksmith shop, Darcy and Richard had returned to the cottage and claimed two of the bedrooms. Throughout the night, the apothecary and those nursing her had been kept busy. Aside from the pain of her injuries, Elizabeth had been plagued by nightmares. They had been forced to be vigilant to prevent her from further damaging her voice by crying out in terror in her sleep. Darcy awoke hourly to the sound of their voices shushing her and reassuring her that she was safe. The swelling had become more of a problem but had not affected her ability to breathe, but her nightmares had persisted.

During one such nightmare, he had felt compelled to offer his services. She was thrashing about in the bed rather violently. It had taken Mary, Mrs. Morris, the doctor, and himself to restrain her. As she finally calmed, she had whispered, "Papa, help me." This was whispered softly and repeatedly, prompting Darcy to direct Frank Morris to find an express rider to send for Mr. Bennet. Darcy did not anticipate being in his father-in-law's company again, but he hoped that his presence could aid in her comfort.

The apothecary leaned back in his chair and gave Darcy an uncertain glance. "Overall, I am more optimistic about her recovery. Her swelling has not worsened, and we are well into the third day. We had been controlling her pain with the laudanum, but since yesterday I have been decreasing it gradually. I suspect that the laudanum may be contributing to her nightmares. I had felt that we had to do whatever was required to keep her quiet for the sake of her voice and had hoped that the laudanum would accomplish that. But, as I said, I think it has done just the opposite. A screaming episode brought on by a nightmare could do untold damage to her vocal cords. We shall see how she tolerates the discomfort in the absence of the laudanum over the course of the next few days. In regards to her breathing, I see no problems. At the moment, she seems relatively comfortable and alert. It was reassuring to have your London physician examine her yesterday. His expectations for her recovery were encouraging."

"Thank you, Sir, for your diligent care for Mrs. Darcy. Also, I would like to say that your willingness to go along with our story of a skating accident is much appreciated. We were afraid that if the news of the real cause of her injuries were to be made public, it would damage her reputation." Darcy abhorred the need for the prevarication but knew that they could not let the truth be revealed. He feared that, since the compromise, he was becoming a rather good liar.

As they continued to converse, Colonel Fitzwilliam returned from Alton and joined them for tea. Mr. Howard repeated his report of Elizabeth's condition for Richard.

After the apothecary departed, Richard gestured for Darcy to follow him back into the parlor and closed the door.

"Darcy, I need you to return with me to Wickham's cell. As you remember, we searched his pockets and the secret compartment that he always kept in the heel of his boot and discovered the hoard of funds that he carried. However, his refusal to divulge the source of his riches made it apparent that there was something more going on than his usual desire to make you miserable. Well, my threats of having his neck stretched for attempted murder have finally begun to loosen his tongue. He revealed that he has a story to tell, but that he will only talk if you are present. I let him know that if he intends to seek to negotiate with us, he had better have proof of what he tells us. He claims that he has written proof in his room at the inn at Basingstoke. I sent Theo on horseback to retrieve Wickham's belongings. He should be back before dark, but you need to hear George's tale."

Darcy swore in frustration. "Why does everything with that scoundrel have to be so blasted complicated? Call for the carriage and I will meet you out front in ten minutes."

Darcy went to his room to get his coat and gloves. He had considered sending for his valet to travel down from London, but with the cottage's limited space, he had decided against it. A simply tied cravat was acceptable under the circumstances.

As he passed Elizabeth's room, he lightly tapped on the door. Once again, Mary partially opened it. Seeing Darcy, she gave him a glacial look before allowing him to enter. Elizabeth looked exhausted and in some discomfort. Her vulnerable state was making it harder and harder for Darcy to hold onto his resentment. Upon his entry, she tried to sit up straighter against her pillows.

"Please do not exert yourself. I only stopped by to let you know that the Colonel and I will be in the village for a few hours. But, as I am sure Mr. Howard told you, he is encouraged by your recovery and hopes that your nightmares will cease with the reduction of the laudanum. I hope that you will be able to rest more easily this evening. Is there anything you need?"

She grimaced as she shook her head.

"We are going to interview Wickham. It appears that he is finally willing to talk. Perhaps, he will shed some light on the motivation behind his actions. If there is anything to report, I will let you know." He bowed and left the room.

ppp

Darcy and Richard strode into Wickham's cell. Seeing Wickham in leg irons was very satisfying to them both. He sat up from where he had been reclining on the small cot, calling out to them, "Welcome, my old childhood friends. I hope you have come ready to negotiate."

The two cousins sat at the table in the middle of the room as the Colonel responded, "Well you better start talking and remember, that if we cannot corroborate your story, you will find yourself at the end of the hangman's noose."

"You still have not told me what I get if you do like my tale."

"Your new best friend, Theo, is on his way to retrieve your belongings from Basingstoke. The proof better be there. If it is as you say, we might be willing to help you get a reduced sentence. However, do not think that we are inclined to be lenient towards you. After all, you attempted to murder a gentlewoman."

"I was not going to let her die. I am not a fool."

"You will be very foolish indeed if you do not fully cooperate." replied the Colonel sternly.

Wickham replied with a great deal of false bravado, "I have a very interesting story to tell. I think you will be riveted with what I have to say."

"Georgie, you forget that you are negotiating from a very bad position. You have severely injured Mrs. Darcy in addition to the mountain of debt we have in our possession. If we walk out now, the best you can hope for is hard labor. We may decide that we do not need your information. So, you better start trying to convince us otherwise."

"Alright, alright. But, Darcy, you are not going to be very happy." Wickham proceeded to tell him of the summons back in January and the deal that was struck in that pub to ruin Darcy's wife. He revealed how his patron had already set things in motion back in November with the compromise. Wickham claimed that this person had planned it all and made it look as if Elizabeth had initiated the compromise when in reality, she was a victim just like Darcy. All of this was part of a bigger plan to ruin the lives of Darcy and Elizabeth.

When Wickham finally ceased speaking, Darcy had a look of incredulity on his face. Richard was equally skeptical and scoffed, "That is the wildest tale you have ever come up with, George. You should write gothic novels."

"It is God's truth," Wickham said with a shrug. "The missives that I received from my patron, are all with my belongings in Basingstoke. He, obviously, was not very experienced with managing this type of operation. I admit I was surprised that he put so much damning information in writing. His trust was quite endearing but totally naive. When you see them, you will be convinced."

Still finding it hard to believe, Richard said, "Most assuredly, your patron must have been very inexperienced in this type of skullduggery, and to trust you, of all people, was idiotic. He was truly out of his element. Who was this babe in the woods? You still have not revealed his identity. Why the mystery? Just tell us who it is."

"No. I want to see your faces when you figure it out."

Richard looked at his pocket watch. "It will be another hour, at best, before Theo will return with the evidence. We will head to the tavern until then."

They left Wickham, and once again, they took the table by the window, ordering ale, bread, and cheese. Neither man attempted to break the silence. Darcy was experiencing such a variety of emotions that he was unable to know which one was dominant.

Finally, Richard voiced the thought that Darcy could not. "If Wickham's story proves to be true, what does it mean for your marriage?"

Darcy rubbed his face and said with a bewildered look in his eye, "I do not know. I just do not know."

"Well for starters, you will have to stop calling her the vixen."

Darcy took a drink and responded dejectedly, "If his story is true, I am not sure if there is any hope that she will forgive me for my abominable treatment of her thus far. I am already beginning to recognize that my actions may have been excessively cruel, regardless of whether she purposely compromised me or not."

Richard agreed. "Yes, it certainly does not bode well for the felicity of your marriage." Darcy grimaced by way of a reply and the two lapsed into a contemplative silence.

Eventually, seeking to lighten the mood, the Colonel continued, "Well, we may discover that Wickham is simply up to his old tricks and that none of it is true. However, just in the few minutes that I spent in her company, there was something beguiling about her manner." He gave Darcy a sly look. "Her eyes are quite uncommon. She certainly refuses to back down from any of your insults. No, she is definitely not like the simpering misses of London." He considered for a moment, then triumphantly declared, "Fire. That is what she has. Fire. Now I myself prefer a more docile female. But some men like a little spice with their sugar. She might be just the thing to liven you up."

"Richard, I do not need livening up. And impertinence is not a desirable trait in fashionable young ladies," exclaimed a frustrated Darcy. He would not admit to his cousin that, before the compromise, he had found her impertinence to be rather endearing.

The Colonel simply gave him a smug grin and then chuckled in satisfaction at having irritated his too-serious cousin.

They had just finished off the ale, bread, and cheese, when they saw Theo ride into the village square. They hurriedly tossed some coin on the table and headed to meet him at the blacksmith's shop.

Theo greeted the two men, and then, primarily speaking to Richard, said, "I met with no problems at th' inn, sir. The letters and bank notes twere under the floorboard jus' like he said. I stuffed ever'thing in 'is trunk." Theo released it where he had lashed it to the back of his saddle. After hefting it to his shoulder, he followed them into the back of the shop where Wickham waited in his cell.

When they entered, the prisoner moved to take the trunk from the hulking footman. "Not so fast, George. You need to stay where you are. I will not have you tossing these letters into the grate before we have gotten a chance to look them over," said the Colonel.

After Theo exited the room, Darcy and Richard rummaged through the trunk and laid out all the letters on the table along with the bank notes. Wickham pointed from his position on the cot. "See there, that one is the first one I received back in January. The rest are just requests for meetings or updates on my progress. But all of them are quite revealing." He smirked in anticipation of their reaction to the identity of the author of the letters. "You will notice that they are all in the same hand."

Darcy picked up the first letter and sat down in the chair with a thud. The handwriting was all too familiar. The blots and illegible scribbles were unmistakably Charles Bingley's. In confusion, Darcy picked up one missive after another. They were all written by Charles.

Darcy dropped the last one back on the table, marched across the room, and grabbed Wickham by the lapels of his coat. "What are you trying to pull, George? I know you. This is just another one of your schemes. How did you forge his hand?"

For a split second, Darcy saw a flash of pity cross Wickham's countenance, but it was quickly replaced by a grin of victory. "I knew this would be a punch in the gut for you, Darce. Your best friend, your puppy dog has grown some teeth. It is all there: agreement to terms, services required. It is all real. I was as surprised as you to find him to be the one waiting for me in that pub."

Darcy let go of Wickham in disgust. "This makes no sense. What reason could Charles have to launch such a diabolical plan? Why would he want to hurt me so much? He is my friend. He is the most amiable gentleman that I know."

"I do not know. He never told me his motivation. However, when he was talking about your compromise, he mentioned that his sister was the one who had the laudanum spiked drinks sent to your and Mrs. Darcy's rooms. Maybe he was mad because you would not marry his shrewish sister."

Richard was going through the letters, reading each one several times. "Here, Darcy. This one mentions the dinner he had at his townhouse a few weeks ago. He says right here, 'I was unpleasantly surprised to see Darcy looking so well. I had hoped that he would be noticeably miserable in the marriage that I arranged for him. I need you to redouble your efforts in the ruin of his sweet wife. If you have to, force the issue. I cannot abide seeing him so sanguine.' That does not sound very amiable to me."

Darcy sat back down at the table and took the letter in question from Richard. His confusion was so great that he could hardly take in what he was reading. Tossing the letter back down, he rested his elbows on the table and rubbed his temples. Aloud, Richard continued to read one damning letter after another. After that he began to take notes, questioning Wickham on dates, meeting places, and payments.

Darcy forced his mind to recall and examine all of his interactions with Bingley over the past year. He could not remember any instant where he had noticed a difference in the manner of his friend. There had been no expression or conversation that had given him a moment's pause. Granted, after the events at Ramsgate, Darcy had been more taciturn and introspective. He could have given offense or simply missed the change in Bingley's demeanor. However, he could not identify anything that would hint at resentment or perfidy on the part of Charles. Darcy's mind replayed the events at Netherfield. What could have led to such treachery?

When the Colonel's questioning of Wickham seemed to have come to an end, Darcy wearily looked up and said, "Wickham, you may be correct about the reason for his actions." He looked at the two other men as his conviction grew. "It very well could involve my rejection of Caroline Bingley. It may not be the whole motivation, but I bet it is what led to the compromise. I gave her a bit of a set-down during the house party. My Valet had reported to me that he had overheard her maid say that her mistress was planning to compromise me. And since I had already become disgusted with her simpering and fawning, I was determined to put an end to it. She had thrown herself at me from morning to night, not giving me a moment's peace. I was truly disgusted at the sight of her. The threat of compromise was the last straw. So, in the hearing of all of her family, I let her know that I would never offer for her, and if she were to compromise me, I would make her life a misery." He shook his head in frustration. "But I swear that for Charles' sake, I was not overly harsh and was careful to couch my comments in generalities."

Richard sat staring at the floor. "I remember you telling me about that." He gave Darcy an apologetic look. "Perhaps, they decided to punish you for humiliating Caroline. But why use Elizabeth? I do not see the connection there."

Wickham spoke up, "He did not say. But he seemed to think that it would be a punishment for you. I have to say she is not your type." George was enjoying the attention and had entered with a perverted sort of glee into the speculation.

Silence descended on the three as they contemplated the various aspects of the conspiracy.

Darcy tiredly stood to his feet and said, "Richard, I need to confront Bingley. I must find out what else he has planned." He and the Colonel locked eyes for a moment in silent communication. "George, your fate is still undecided until we can obtain a little more clarity on all of this. We will be back in the morning to see if we need any more information from you. So, my advice to you is to sit tight and enjoy the hospitality of Mr. Dunlop."

Richard added, "And do not try any of your tricks. Darcy has hired two of Theo's brothers to stand guard. It will not go well for you if you attempt to escape." He gestured to the iron bars over the window and at the door.

They gathered up all the letters and banknotes and departed.

Darcy and Richard had been silent on the ride back to the cottage, both lost in their own reverie. Unable to contemplate the hurtful betrayal of his friend, he chose instead to allow his mind to replay the compromise itself.

Why had he not been more on his guard? Why had he not detected the strange after-taste as he drank his nightcap before retiring that night? Obviously, his arrogance and pride had served him ill. He had assumed that his warning would be enough to protect him and that his friend would ensure that he would not be compromised while he was in his home. He would have never suspected where the danger truly lay.

When he had awoken that next morning, the sweet sensation of the warm body snuggled up so close to him had been in pleasant contrast to the dull ache of his head. In his drug and sleep-induced fog, he had been slow to comprehend the situation in which he found himself, but he had been in no hurry to stir from his comfortable position. The sleeping face of his bedmate had left him enthralled by her loveliness. She had been the embodiment of Sleeping Beauty, and he had been convinced that she was part of a very sweet dream. His pounding head had been the only thing that had stopped him from taking her in his arms.

However, that incessant throbbing behind his eyes had served to finally bring him to a state of full consciousness. At that moment, when he had finally realized the abominable position that he was in, a myriad of emotions had bombarded him: confusion, surprise, anger, disappointment, outrage. The disappointment and the anger had warred for supremacy, but the white-hot anger and indignation had won out. Instead of caressing her as he had wanted to do just moments before, he had roughly shaken her awake and yelled at her. Now he could clearly see that her confusion had not been feigned, but like his own waking, she had been suffering from a drug-induced fog. Guilt assailed him now. He realized that he had been overly harsh, cruel, and vindictive in his treatment of her. And she had deserved none of it. Shame and remorse assailed him.

As they approached the cottage, he was brought out of his miserable thoughts by the sight of another carriage parked in front. Darcy sighed in resignation upon realizing who it must belong to. The man had made better time than he had expected. Richard gave him a quizzical look.

Darcy explained, "Mr. Bennet, Elizabeth's father. I sent him an express early yesterday." He ran his hands through his hair. "This will probably be a very unpleasant interview."

Mrs. Morris met them at the door. "Good evening, gentlemen. Mr. Bennet arrived just a quarter-hour ago. He insisted on going directly to see Mrs. Darcy. I have ordered dinner to be served at seven. That will give Mr. Bennet time to visit with his daughter and then to clean up from his trip. I have taken the liberty of having his things placed in the fourth bedroom. Does all that meet with your approval, Sir?"

"Yes, Mrs. Morris. That is excellent. I will go change myself." Darcy and Richard both headed for their rooms. Darcy added as he mounted the stairs, "If Mr. Bennet should come down before me, please tell him that I will make myself available to speak to him as soon as possible."

ppp

Waking from a blessedly dreamless sleep, Elizabeth opened her eyes to see her father watching her from the chair beside her bed. She gasped in disbelief and whispered, "Oh, Papa. Is it truly you?"

At the sound of her ragged whisper, he rushed to stand by her side and shushed her. "My Lizzy, do not hurt your voice. Yes, it is truly me. I came as soon as I got the express." He leaned over and laid a kiss on her forehead.

He arranged her pillows so that she could sit up and helped her to take several sips of water. She gestured to a small writing slate on the table, and he handed it to her, saying, "What have you gotten yourself into, dear girl? Do not try to answer. I have been updated on your progress by Mary and the housekeeper. They seem to think that you will very soon be on the mend."

As tears of joy and heartache leaked from her eyes, she scribbled on the slate and then handed it to him. "Papa, I am so happy to see you. How did you know to come?"

He responded, "Your husband sent me an express telling me what had occurred and saying that you had been calling for me in your sleep and that he hoped that I would hasten to your side. His consideration was very unexpected given his earlier prohibition to family visits."

She scribbled some more, "He has been solicitous of my health, but cold as always. He and his cousin are in the village interviewing the man who did this to me. They should be back soon."

"Do not overexert yourself. I need to go wash off the dust of the road. I will speak to Mr. Darcy over dinner and then come sit with you before you retire for the night." He kissed her hand and left the room. Elizabeth laid her head back on her pillow with a smile on her face for the first time since the assault.

She was surprised that Mr. Darcy would have made the effort to notify her father of what had happened. For he had disdained her family, and the last words between her father and her husband had been harsh.

Her throat still ached terribly, and her swallowing was painful. However, she was relieved to be free of the confusing effects of the laudanum even if she had to endure the pain. The nightmares had been so frightening, and she was glad to have them recede.

Sarah bustled in to help her see to her needs. After re-plaiting her hair, she said, "They will be bringing up your tray with a bit of broth and tea, directly. I would like to be a fly on the wall in the dining room tonight, Ma'am. I imagine that it will be a very lively discussion. Your father looked furious after talking to Miss Mary and Mrs. Morris earlier."

Elizabeth gave her a weak smile, thinking of how close she had come to real peril. None of the vexations or humiliation of the last four months compared to the horror of having her life's breath cut off. She had to force herself to think of something pleasant to keep those sensations and feelings of panic from overwhelming her.

Knowing her father, he would lay all of the blame for the incident on Darcy. But Elizabeth did not believe that he or the Colonel could have prevented what had happened. If they had not come to Chilton upon receiving her letter, what other calamity could have befallen her at the hands of the violent Mr. Wickham? It could have been something much worse. She settled back against her pillows to await the delivery of her broth and breathed a silent prayer that the dinner downstairs would be peaceful between the resentful men.