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Elizabeth laughed nervously. “Heavens, no!” She shut the book quickly and shelved it. “I…I was looking for the poetry section. I was not sure anyone was around.”

“Yes, your man found me in the alley, unloading some boxes. I apologize for not hearing the bell.” He touched the books she handled, straightening them into an even row. “Poetry is this way, Miss.”

Elizabeth noted the man’s appearance—a bit disheveled—his clothing hanging on his frame—a florid face with beady eyes squinting behind spectacles. He would make the perfect schoolmaster, she thought. “Do you have a preference, Miss?” He stopped suddenly to look down at her.

“William Cowper.” She had nearly forgotten what she sought. “Something by William Cowper.”

The man’s gnarled fingers delicately selected one of the volumes and handed it to her. Elizabeth flipped through the pages and nodded.“This is excellent. Might I have it wrapped?”

“Yes, Miss.” The man took back the tome and led the way to the front of the store.“Is there anything else, Miss?”

Elizabeth looked around anxiously, making sure Darcy was nowhere around. “Might I write a note in the book before you wrap it? It is to be a gift.”

The man reached under the counter, bringing forth a pen and

Fitzwilliam,

To give you pleasure in your late-night library visits.

Yours always,

Elizabeth

When the package was wrapped, Elizabeth slipped it under her cloak, not wishing the others to note her sentimentality or her intimacy with the man she would marry. She would give it to Darcy as a wedding gift.

“Lizzy!” Jane called as Elizabeth stepped into the street, followed closely by the footman. “Mr. Darcy is coming this way.”

Elizabeth watched him approach. She appreciated his fine physique—his tight-fitting jacket and stylish greatcoat only made him look more debonair. More than one lady’s head turned, but his eyes stayed on her.

As he neared, Elizabeth rushed forward to meet him.Taking his proffered arm, she bestowed a smile on Darcy. He took her hand, lacing it through his and pulling her closer to his side as he turned back to the carriage.“Am I conceited to think you missed me?” he whispered close to her ear.

Elizabeth laughed lightly.“I did, as foolish as that may seem.You were absent for barely an hour.”

“Long enough to feel bereft of your touch on my arm,” he said flirtatiously.

She countered,“Long enough to wish the day to end and a new one to begin.”

At the carriage, he brought Elizabeth’s hand to his lips before helping her climb into the luxurious seats of his coach. “Tomorrow,” he said seductively.

CHAPTER 12

George Wickham gasped for breath. Somehow he had made it to London—to Edward Street—to the home of Mrs.Younge. She let rooms, although very few people stayed there; Mrs.Younge, since she had given herself up to George Wickham, “selected” her renters carefully after interviewing them. Edward Street offered her a plethora of individuals from whom to choose, and the lady picked only those who would not be missed when they disappeared. At one time, she served as Georgiana Darcy’s companion, a respectable way for a lady to earn a living, but that was before Wickham seduced her and showed her the dark side. Currently, Mrs.Younge lived in the bowels of a teeming city, taking the lives of some of its least upstanding citizens.

Wickham rapped sharply with the knocker. Barely able to stand, his patience wore thin when no one responded, so he pounded on the door with his fist.

“Enough!” A sharp voice demanded on the other side. Someone unbolted the locks and cracked the opening. “What may I do for you?”A syrupy sweet voice spoke from the darkness.

“I need help,”Wickham hissed.

The door swung open immediately. “Wickham? My lord? What happened?” Mrs.Younge slid his arm around her shoulder to brace his weight against her.

“A little run-in with your former employer, Mr. Darcy.” He reached for the doorframe to steady himself.

“I am here for you, my lord.” She helped him to the nearest chaise. “What can I do?” Mrs.Younge lifted his legs, so Wickham might lay flat.

“I have a silver shaft festering in my abdomen.You must remove it so that I may heal.” His skin was grey.

“A silver…?”she asked, shocked. But then Mrs. Younge

“The idiot missed my heart,” he gasped, “although Fitzwilliam Darcy came close last evening to achieving his goal of destroying me.” He ripped open his shirt to give her easier access to him.“I will heal quickly once the implement is removed. Now be about it.”

Darcy sent word to the Gardiners that his cousin Colonel Damon Fitzwilliam would join the party for dinner. Colonel Fitzwilliam, who would stand up with Darcy the next morning at the church, had arrived unexpectedly while they were out. Elizabeth and the Gardiners found the colonel quite amiable and enjoyed his tales of his and Darcy’s childhoods. His stories went a long way in confirming Elizabeth’s opinion of her betrothed.They also seemed to allay some of Aunt Gardiner’s suspicions.

Besides the colonel, Darcy’s aunt and uncle—Lady Anne Darcy’s older brother—arrived at the church in time for the service.

“Uncle,” Darcy said as he bowed to his only family. “I am so pleased you arrived here in time. I feared you would not.”

“You gave your aunt and me very little notice,” the Earl of Matlock declared, “but Her Ladyship would have no peace until we were on the road.”

The Earl pulled Darcy to the side, assuring some privacy. He motioned for his son to join them.“Why the haste? The lady is not compromised, is she?”

“Miss Elizabeth is the woman I wish to marry,Your Lordship,” Darcy replied testily.“We shared no more than a few kisses. Unfortunately, on one of those occasions, her father and some of his servants spied us in an embrace.Although her father would be discreet and allow for a proper calling of the banns, Mr. Bennet and I feared the servants would show less discretion.”

“Then it is a match based on love?”

Calmer now, he replied,“It is.”

“Excellent. Her Ladyship will be pleased to hear as such.Your parents knew a deep devotion for each other. I hope you and Miss Elizabeth will be equally suited to each other.”

The colonel touched Darcy’s arm. “Darcy, the cleric indicates it is time to take our places. Miss Elizabeth is in the alcove with Mr. Gardiner.”

“Then let us commence!” The earl headed back to his seat, beside his wife and Georgiana.

Darcy took a deep breath. For a brief moment, he considered telling Elizabeth he had made a mistake; he could not do this.Then she stepped around the corner, holding onto her uncle’s arm, and Darcy’s world shifted. Elizabeth’s eyes locked with his. In that moment, nothing else mattered except that Elizabeth Bennet would be his wife. She would spend the rest of her days with him. He would protect her from George Wickham and the rest of the world, and Darcy would provide for her. She would never want for anything, and—in his own way—he would love Elizabeth above all others.

Mr. Gardiner indicated to the vicar that he gave Elizabeth’s hand in marriage, and then Darcy felt her fingertips entwine with his. He breathed deeply to steady his nerves and squeezed her hand to tell her he understood if she, too, felt nervous, but Elizabeth’s eyes held a calmness he did not expect. She chose to pledge her life to his, and she would not waver in her decision. Darcy could not either: Elizabeth was his present and his future.

At the end, Darcy escorted Elizabeth up the aisle to sign the registry. It was official; she was now Elizabeth Darcy.

No one suspected that Elizabeth seriously considered finding the nearest church door and running for her life. She reasoned she could hail a hack and have it take her to the closest posting inn. A coach could take her back to Longbourn and her own room.Then she saw Darcy waiting for her, and nothing mattered other than being with him. Fate had thrown them into a relationship, and she would see it through.

As she repeated her vows, Elizabeth heard the thinness of her own voice, but she knew she was making the right decision. She had no doubts.

Amelia Younge checked on Wickham’s progress. He staggered to a second-floor bedroom once she removed the broken shaft of a sword lodged deep within his lower abdomen. He made no sound as she cut around the metal, dislodging a three-inch pointed piece before he finally allowed himself an audible sigh.

“Thank you,Amelia,” he whispered.Theirs was an odd connection. He had chosen her solely because she served as a companion to Georgiana Darcy.The sexual intimacy he often felt with his victims did not exist between them. Unlike Elizabeth Bennet, Amelia Younge believed his every story about Fitzwilliam Darcy and gladly participated in what she thought would be Darcy’s downfall. Wickham used her completely and she succumbed to his scheme. Now, she existed as one of his minions—his followers.At one time, he had wanted only one woman in his life—Ellender D’Arcy. Now, many followed him into hell. For Mrs.Younge, he served as her dark lord; she did his bidding without question.

When he recalled Elizabeth Bennet, a blasphemous oath escaped his lips. His pursuit of her had nearly caused his demise. Obviously, Darcy cared about the woman; except for the time Wickham tried to seduce Georgiana, he had never seen Darcy so incensed by his actions. It was personal at last. Wickham enjoyed stripping Elizabeth Bennet down to her chemise and binding her to the bed. Having Darcy find her in such a state was even more pleasing. Sadly,Wickham had not managed to place Miss Elizabeth fully under his spell. It was more than the insipid iron crucifix that Darcy had given her. If that were all, he would have simply ripped it from her neck and taken his chances.

No, it was something more than that old wives’ tale about iron being his bane.Wickham knew intuitively that she did not totally

“What else, my lord?” Mrs. Younge stood by the bed, gazing down at him.

“Two things.” His voice already was stronger.“Take this pouch.” He unstrapped a folded leather bag from his leg and handed it to her.

“What is it?” she muttered as she began to open it.

Wickham offered a wicked grin. “It is home. At least, it is the earth I call home. Sprinkle some of it over the blanket so I might rest.Without it, my soul roams the underworld at night.” She did as he instructed, leaving a thin line of dark soil tracing his form.Then she handed the container back to him.

“The second thing?” she prompted.

He reached inside his jacket pocket.“These are the ashes of my father.The village hunted my parents as if they were animals once the Baobhan Síth turned me into what you see before you. My parents were burned alive in the bedroom of our home; they sought shelter in the only place they knew. Spread a paste of these ashes over my wound. It will heal me by the morrow. My father’s life will seal the wounds in my body.”

Again, Mrs.Younge followed his instructions to the letter. She had no reason to doubt what he said.

“Now leave me to my rest. I will sleep until tomorrow night. Close the door and lock it, my dear. I will trust you to guard me as I regain my abilities.”

“I will do as you ask.” She headed towards the open door.

The wedding breakfast took place at the Gardiners’ home. Although Gracechurch Street was not the most fashionable of addresses, no one who ever met the Gardiners would judge them to be anything less than the finest and most respectable people. After spending some time with Elizabeth’s family, Darcy realized Mr. Gardiner was a sensible, gentlemanlike man, greatly superior to his sister Mrs. Bennet, by nature as well as education. He suspected Bingley’s sisters would have difficulty in believing a man who lived by trade, and within view of his own warehouses, could be so well bred and agreeable. Mrs. Gardiner, who was several years younger than Mrs. Bennet and Mrs. Philips, was an amiable, intelligent, elegant woman. Because there subsisted a very particular regard between Elizabeth and her aunt, Darcy spent more than an hour cultivating a relationship with the older lady.To think the woman once considered him a murderer created an awkwardness between them. Even now, he could not be certain she entirely believed he was not. But he would alter Meredith Gardiner’s opinions for Elizabeth’s sake.

“Thank you, Fitzwilliam,” Elizabeth whispered close to his ear.

Darcy smiled at her, happy in his own right. “I will take your gratitude freely, but for what do you offer it?”

“For inviting my aunt and uncle to Pemberley this summer,” Elizabeth explained. “Aunt Merry can speak of nothing else. She will renew old acquaintances; you gave her the perfect excuse to return home.”

“If it makes you happy, Elizabeth, I will entertain all of Hertfordshire at Pemberley.” He traced circles on the back of her hand as they shared a settee in the Gardiners’ main drawing room.

Elizabeth laughed.“It is lucky for you, my Husband, that I hold no desire to share you with others.”

“Share me or share my secrets?” Darcy lowered his voice and moved closer, so that no one else could hear.

Never your secrets!” she protested. “I hold only your highest good in my heart and my mind.”

He smiled.“I do not deserve you, Elizabeth Darcy.”

As no one paid them much attention, Elizabeth slid her hand into his. “Whether you deserve me or not, Fitzwilliam Darcy, you must suffer my heartfelt attentions.”

“Willingly, Sweetling.” He took her hand in his grasp.Turning it over, he kissed the inside of her wrist.After a few moments of silent contemplation, he suggested,“We should make our farewells.”

Elizabeth blushed.“I suppose you are correct.”

Darcy helped her to her feet.They bid their families a good day and thanked the Gardiners for their generosity. While Elizabeth hugged Jane for the third time, Darcy turned to his cousin. “You will see Georgiana home, Damon?”

“With pleasure, Darcy.” He shot a furtive glance at Elizabeth, who stood talking to the colonel’s mother and father.“I am happy for you, Cousin. Mrs. Darcy appears to be a sensible sort.”

Darcy’s eyes rested on his bride.“Mrs. Darcy suits me.”

The colonel maneuvered Darcy to the privacy of a secluded corner.“Then she knows?”

“My wife knows everything.” Even though it was his cousin, Darcy preferred not to be reminded of his situation. “You, of all people, should realize I would not involve an innocent in this.”

The colonel nodded. “If you are satisfied, Cousin, I will speak no more of the matter.”

“If you will excuse me, then.” Darcy moved to where Elizabeth waited for him.“Are you ready, Mrs. Darcy?”

“Yes, Mr. Darcy,” she said self-assuredly.“I am ready.”

In the carriage headed towards the new couple’s London town house, Elizabeth inquired, “Fitzwilliam, why, pray tell, did Mr. Bingley not attend our wedding? I thought him to be your closest friend.”

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