Mary Simonsen - A Wife for Mr Darcy

Taking his cue from the look in her eyes, he did what he had wanted to do ever since that afternoon at Longbourn, and he took her in his arms and he kissed her and kissed her again, and after parting her lips with his tongue, he felt the response of her warm lips tasting his. She moved her hands to his face and traced his lips with her fingers, and then she put her arms around his neck and kissed him again before resting her head on his chest. For many more minutes, they sat there quietly in each other’s embrace, but Darcy knew that there were so many things that needed to be done before he could leave in the morning. And so he stood and brought her to her feet and kissed her in one long kiss because he did not know when he would feel her lips again.

“I am to Brighton in the morning and then to London for that business of which we just spoke. But at the earliest possible moment, I will come to you, and I promise you, no more small steps. I plan to bridge the chasm that separates us in one giant leap of love.”

Darcy, dressed in his traveling clothes, was on his way to Antony’s room when Lord Fitzwilliam stepped out into the hallway.

“Sneaking out of your own house, Darcy? That is very odd.”

“Actually, I was coming to see you, but what are you doing up at this hour?”

“It should not surprise you that I am a light sleeper. Always listening for the door, you know.”

After Darcy explained what was going on in Brighton, and with Lord Fitzwilliam’s own daughters in the forefront of his mind, a look of disgust appeared on the earl’s face. “I despise that sort of behavior. A sixteen-year-old girl is a child. Say what you will about my affaires de coeur, the ladies are all over the age of twenty-five.”

Darcy disagreed with Antony’s view of what was honorable behavior, but it was no time for a discussion on morality.

“I have come to tell you that I was in need of Gregg’s service, and he is on his way to Brighton these past two hours. But I do not know if even so able a horseman as Gregg can get there in time to disrupt Wickham’s plan. After all, Brighton is two hundred miles away, and the man must rest.”

“Do you know how Gregg came to be in my service?” Antony asked.

“From his size and his equestrian talents, I suspect he was a jockey at some point.”

“Exactement! He jockeyed for my father, and I was at the races at Canterbury the day he took a nasty spill. My dear pere put him to work in the stables until he recovered and was able to race again, but when he finally hung up his whip, I took him into my service as I was now Lord Fitzwilliam. Before Gregg, I never could keep a manservant. Not everyone likes surprises. Anyway, I needed someone who was a fast thinker as well as being fast on his feet and on a horse and while running down alleys. But as to the matter at hand, Gregg has raced from Cornwall to Perth and knows every highway and byway in the realm and every coaching inn where he can change horses quickly. Once he gets near to London, he will hire a hackney and that will allow him to sleep all the way to Brighton. Rest assured. He will get your message to Colonel Forster.”

“God only knows if all this rushing about will do any good. But that is out of my hands, and I must do what I can. Mercer and I are on our way to Brighton. I have left instructions with regards to Georgiana with Jackson, and any help Richard or you can provide would be appreciated. If my sister no longer wishes to stay at Pemberley, please see her back to London.”

“Of course. No worries on that or any other matter.”

“Antony, when this nasty business is concluded, I would like to talk to you about a whole host of things.”

“I know one of the things that has caught your attention is my attire. I am well aware that I am out of fashion, and you assume that it is because of money owed to my tailor. That is part of it. However, since the rise of Mr. Beau Brummel, every man in London looks exactly like every other man in London, and I do not like the idea of not standing out in a crowd. And as for having a ‘talk,’ we must first establish the definition of the word ‘talk,’ as your interpretation leans heavily towards ‘sermonizing’ while mine does not. But that is not what is important right now, so off you go and good luck!”

When Darcy arrived at the stables, Mercer had everything ready for their departure. They would travel with no luggage, so they might go farther and faster before having to change horses. The senior Belling and his son, Tom, were both capable drivers, and there wasn’t a conveyance that Mercer could not drive if necessary. But there were so many variables: the horses, the weather, the conditions of the roads, and on and on, but fortunately, his arrival was second in importance to Gregg’s.

As they drove out of the Pemberley estate, through Lambton, and on to the London road, he thought that the speech he had given Elizabeth about there being enough time to intervene before Wickham could put his plan into action was just that—a speech—for the purpose of bucking her up. Who could possibly say what a man would do who would exact his revenge through an innocent girl? But he was sure of one thing: If Wickham succeeded in seducing Lydia, he would track him down to the ends of the earth.

When Colonel Forster’s servant roused him from his bed at 1:00 in the morning, he told him that he better have a damn good reason for doing so. After reassuring Mrs. Forster that it was regimental business, she went back to sleep, and wearing his robe and night cap, he went downstairs to find out what fire was burning and where.

The man standing before him, encased in a thick layer of dirt, astounded him when he informed him that he had been traveling for a full day and had come from Derbyshire on behalf of Mr. Darcy of Pemberley, cousin of His Lordship, Earl Fitzwilliam.

Fumbling for his spectacles, he read the letter Gregg had presented to him, and with each sentence, his pallor grew paler until all color had drained from his face. He immediately went and knocked on the cook’s door and asked Mrs. Grant if she would go upstairs to make sure that Miss Lydia was in bed.

“I want you to look at her face—not at a bundle in the bed—to see if she is breathing.”

Mrs. Grant, whose knees creaked as loudly as the stairs, returned to report that Miss Lydia was sound asleep, and she had stood there for a full minute watching the rise and fall of her chest. After apologizing for disturbing her, the colonel bade her good night.

“Mr. Gregg, you have served Mr. Darcy well, and he has asked that I make sure you are fed and properly boarded,” and he instructed his servant, Walters, to see to the man’s needs. After doing so, Walters was to come to the colonel’s study as he was to deliver a message to Captain Wilcox, the officer in charge of the guard, for the purpose of finding Mr. Wickham.

The colonel had no doubt that Captain Wilcox would find the bastard, and once he had him, he would be confined to quarters with a guard posted at his door. In his note, Darcy had instructed the captain that no one was to say anything to Wickham. “I shall be doing all the talking in the morning,” the colonel mumbled.

There was nothing more to be done at such an hour, so the old campaigner took a blanket from the bedroom chest, placed a chair in front of Lydia’s door, and went to sleep dreaming of his life before he had married his nineteen-year-old bride.

Despite it being a very cold morning, as soon as the carriage turned down the drive to Longbourn, Jane came out onto the porch to meet the travelers. After an exchange of greetings, she got right to the heart of the matter. “The express rider came early this morning, and Papa is prepared to leave immediately and is relying on Uncle Gardiner for the use of his carriage as far as London.”

“Of course,” Uncle Gardiner said immediately, “but I shall go with him as he will be in need of a sympathetic ear. This matter must be weighing heavily upon him.”

Jane thanked her uncle for his not unexpected kindness.

“We are eager to hear whatever news you have from Pemberley,” Jane said to Lizzy.

“And I will be glad to share it, but why are we standing outside in the cold?”

“Because Mr. Collins is here,” Jane said in a voice that indicated this visit was just as welcome as the last. “He arrived in Hertfordshire four days ago in preparation for the wedding and had been staying with the Lucases. Although he claims that he is not a superstitious man, he thought it best not to see the bride the day before the wedding, so he has come this morning to Longbourn.”