Page 48 of Fitzwilliam Darcy Undone
“Mr. Bennet,” Richard called out as he went to exit the billiard room. “Did you do that thing we spoke of around Longbourn?”
Bennet cast a quick glance at Bingley, but he was busy racking the balls for their next game.
“I only had time to ward the garden around the house. Tomorrow, after the wedding I’ll expand the boundaries. There just hasn’t been enough time.” He cast a playful nod in Darcy’s direction. “Some young man insists on marrying my daughter tomorrow instead of next year.”
About to laugh along with Bennet and Richard, they were interrupted by a footman bringing a note - addressed to Darcy. He recognized the handwriting immediately. Wickham. He broke the seal and almost keeled over when he read the words,
I have your betrothed. Come alone to the standing stone outside of St. Alban’s. If you do not, I will kill her.
Bennet transported immediately to Longbourn to assure no one else had been injured whileRichard transported to St. Alban’s and through communication with Darcy, told him as far as he could tell Wickham was alone and Elizabeth was with him. Even though he couldn’t see his cousin’s face, Darcy knew Richard was not telling him everything. His heart lurched in his chest at the thought of Wickham bringing harm to Elizabeth.
Darcy shimmered to the clearing described at the bottom of his note. A horse and carriage waited at the edge of the forest and beyond that, in the middle of the standing stones stood Wickham. Beside him, strung up between two solid poles, her arms and legs tethered to the top and bottom respectively was Elizabeth. Clad only in her thin nightdress, which had rolled up her thighs to accommodate the spreading of her legs, she looked like a human letter X. Her head lolled to one side and even in the shadowed moon light he saw a wound on her forehead and a trail of dried blood which had trickled down her cheek. She seemed unconscious and unaware. Thank God for small mercies.
He summoned energy and was about to blast Wickham back to the hell from which he’d sprung when Wickham brought out a knife and held it to her throat. Only the fear that he would cut her as he fell stayed Darcy’s spell.
“That’s right, Darcy. You wouldn’t want me to hurt your pathetic human woman now.”
“What do you want, Wickham?”
“For starters, I want you to step within the standing stones.”
He hesitated and began to assess the circle of ancient stones. His senses picked up strong wards. Dampening wards. Wickham meant to meet him with his powers stripped bare. For now, Wickham held all the power, and the woman he loved.
“Let her go, Wickham. She is an innocent and should not be punished for something of which she has no control.”
“I think not. She’s a tempting bit, although her pert opinions feed my anger. But, it’s not her opinions that I’d be enjoying once you’re dead and gone, it would be these.”
Wickham used the blade of his knife to cut open her nightgown. Nothing lay between her and indecency as all of her bosom was exposed. He reached up and fondled her breast, a malicious grin directed at an impotent Darcy. Wickham would die a slow and painful death, but for the moment he was helpless. He had no choice but to enter the circle of the standing stones and figure things out on the fly.
“I will do as you wish, but only if you let her go.”
Wickham stepped behind Elizabeth and Darcy heard the renting of fabric and her nightgown flapped about her legs. He then made a show of opening the fall of his trousers.
“Shall I despoil and bugger your betrothed in front of your eyes, Darcy? Because, you know I will. In fact, I may enjoy it as much as when I took your little sister in the same fashion, over and over.”
That bastard! I shall tear him apart with my bare hands.
No wonder Georgiana couldn’t forgive herself.
No, Richard. Stay and enter only if needed. If something happens, make sure he does not get out alive, and look after... look after both of them.
With my life.
Darcy struggled to contain his anger and stepped into the ring. He knew Wickham wanted him blind with fury as well as stripped of his powers. Immediately, he felt a profound sense of loss without his magic, as though a void had been created in the center of his being and he had no form or function. Fortunately, he’d spent much time at Gentleman Jacks and if he had to fight Wickham man to man, he had a good chance of beating the bastard to death with his bare hands.
“Ah, good. Glad you made the right decision.” Wickham redid the top button of his pants after running a hand over her bare behind. “Grigston,” he called out and placed the knife on Elizabeth’s neck. “Come and introduce yourself to my dear friend, Mr. Darcy of Pemberley.”
From out of the woods lumbered a giant of a man. Even from a distance, Darcy could see that he stood at least six inches over his own considerable height. His arms appeared as though they were tree trunks and his squat face had the look of a man who’d fought and won many a fist fight. For the first time a trickle of dread wormed its way into his mind. He’d fight to the death for Elizabeth. He had no choice. As he began flexing his arms and hands in preparation for the fight, a second mountain walked out behind Grigston, not as large but nothing to dismiss, either.
“And of course, we couldn’t forget Grigston’s twin brother,” Wickham crowed in unholy delight.
“You have no sense of honor, Wickham.”
“And you only realized that just now, old friend?”
Wickham’s eyes gleamed as the brothers entered the circle and spread out so they could come at him from opposite sides. With a curt nod from Wickham, the two men lumbered toward Darcy. He gathered his courage and began to make his battle plan. Before they had gone more than two paces each, he flew toward the smaller twin on his left and, leaping high into the air, came down upon his head and shoulders with the hardest hit he could manage, aiming for the vulnerable temple and eye area. Not expecting an offense, the giant raised his arm too late and Darcy pierced the skin with his tightly held fingers and before the giant could think or react, he reached for the jugular and taking hold of muscle, tendon and skin, ripped his throat out of his body.
Gasping and gurgling, the man fell to his knees, trying to stem the flow of blood with his massive hands, but it was too late. He collapsed and fell prone to the ground. Darcy whirled around to face the brother’s twin. Grigston roared and charged at him. Darcy sidestepped and stuck out his boot to take him off balance. He needed to leverage the man’s weight and height against him. It was his only chance of survival.
