Lizzy nodded. “I do, but my hope for you is to find a warm and loving man to whom you can admit your mistake, preferably before marrying him.”

  Georgiana looked wise beyond her years. “That is dreadfully naïve, dear Lizzy. I shall rely on your first suggestions.”

  Lizzy sighed, hardly blaming her. Men of the Ton had certain expectations, and it would be a rare man who could overlook Georgiana’s supposed soiled state. She doubted they were the first women to have such a conversation and would certainly not be the last.

  The party was in full swing, and Lizzy’s dance card was full. It was no coincidence that ninety percent of those dances were reserved for her husband, and the remainder were with Charles or her father. Fitzwilliam would never admit to it, but he could be possessive. Lizzy didn’t mind, and it gave her an excuse to refuse Wickham when he boldly approached to ask her for a dance as the evening drew to a close.

  She took great pleasure in showing her full dance card and denying his request with an anemic semblance of regret. He seemed unbothered and moved on to the unsuspecting daughters of the families from the surrounding area. Lizzy wanted to warn all the parents to watch their daughters, but she could not imagine a discreet way to do so.

  She moved to the refreshment table at the end of her dance with Papa. Her sisters were gathered there. Mary had taken up her customary position with a book on a chair in the corner, but she abandoned her status as wallflower to join them.

  “Is there any sign of Lydia yet?” asked Kitty.

  “I have not seen her,” said Fanny.

  “Nor have I.” Lizzy looked around. “Mother, you should ask Wickham. He is not as likely to refuse to tell you.”

  “I…yes, I can do that.” She straightened her shoulders and headed off to find him.

  “Where is Anne?” asked Kitty, clearly trying to make polite conversation.

  “If you recall, her health has improved, and she has gone to finishing school?” At Kitty’s nod, she said, “She decided to visit friends over the holidays. Fitzwilliam suspects she is enamored with the older brother of her friend, but the boy is quality and would be a respectable suitor if he returns her affection. Lady Catherine seems pleased with the idea.” Lizzy gave the explanation as she waited for her mother’s return.

  Fanny came back a few moments later, looking puzzled. “He said she will be down shortly. He wanted her to make an entrance.”

  The women speculated what that might mean for the next few minutes before she returned to Fitzwilliam, who came to claim her for another dance. They had just started the Reel when audible gasps surrounded them.

  Fitzwilliam stiffened and cursed softly, which prompted Lizzy to turn to see what was causing the commotion. She gasped as Lydia stepped into the ballroom. She wore a striking dress that drew eyes to her, which made it impossible to miss the bruise under her eye. She seemed to be barely forcing herself to move through the crowd and feign obliviousness to the gossip.

  Lizzy didn’t recall moving, but she was suddenly near Lydia, as were her sisters. Fitzwilliam stood behind her, and her papa was to the side. He seemed on the verge of apoplexy.

  “What happened?” asked Jane.

  Lydia’s eyes were glazed, as though she’d had a dose of laudanum before joining the party. “What do you mean, sister?”

  “Your eye.” Kitty looked horrified. “Did he do this to you?” There was no question whom he was.

  Lydia seemed disconnected. “Do not be ridiculous. I walked right into the cupboard door. I was not familiar with the room’s layout. It could happen to anyone.”

  Lizzy was skeptical, but she didn’t want to cause a scene. Lydia appeared not to want to talk about it as she drifted to her husband, who swept her into a dance. The way he looked at her would have convinced even the most diehard cynic that Wickham was captivated by his bride.

  Lizzy didn’t believe it, and she could see the disbelief and dissatisfaction on the faces around her.

  “It is a message,” said Fitzwilliam in a grim voice.

  “What is that you say, my boy?” asked Douglas.

  “He did this to her after we attempted to pressure him into behaving in a decent fashion. Recall he said she would pay for our words. We must back off for now.”

  “We cannot leave her at his mercy,” said Lizzy vehemently, but as quietly as she could.

  “No, and we shan’t, but we must give the appearance of doing so if we want to extract her from this folly before he seriously injures her.” Fitzwilliam’s tone was soothing.

  His words of reason were still unwelcome. Lizzy wanted to rail against them and demand he toss Wickham from Pemberley, but that would be no solution if Wickham insisted on taking Lydia with him. She seemed firmly under his thumb and unlikely to deny his command.

  How were they going to save Lydia from the situation?

  Chapter Five

  Christmas Eve dawned with a large snowfall. It was ideal weather for a sleigh ride that afternoon, followed by hot chocolate by the large fireplace in the salon. Lizzy was doing her best not to stare at Wickham, or scrutinize his every interaction with her sister, but it was difficult.

  She wanted to confront him and demand he stop, while also extracting a promise from Lydia that she would leave Wickham, reputation be damned. It could cause a scandal, but Fitzwilliam had sufficient resources to ensure that scandal didn’t ruin Kitty or Mary’s prospects or tarnish the Bennet reputation too much.

  Yet she doubted Lydia had the fortitude to do so. She didn’t believe her sister still loved Wickham, but Lydia was certainly afraid of him. She had never been terribly brave, so it was her nature to cower and accept his ill treatment.

  It was frustrating enough to make Lizzy’s stomach turn with nausea all morning and well into the afternoon. That evening, the family gathered in the drawing room instead of separating after dinner to sing carols. Mary volunteered to play, and no one challenged her. Lizzy might have stepped in with an offer to play instead if she hadn’t been so queasy.

  She stepped out of the drawing room as Mary started playing. The voices of those around her mostly drowned out her sister, but the offkey playing of the pianoforte was undisguisable. It seemed to exacerbate her nausea.

  She moved to sit on a chaise in the hallway and looked up as someone sat beside her. She expected Fitzwilliam, but it was Wickham. She stiffened and immediately started to stand up. His hand bit into her wrist as he held her tightly to keep her from leaving. “Unhand me at once, sir.”

  He gave her a tight smile. “You were such a tempting morsel, Lizzy. If only you’d had more money and not that persistent attraction to Darcy, we would have had a fine match.”

  She shuddered her horror at the idea. “Do not be disgusting. I would never marry the likes of you even if I were a spinster, and marrying you meant the difference between starving on the streets of London.”

  He chuckled at the insult. “Such drama. Lydia had that spark as well…at first. There is only so long a man can listen to her prattle on before needing to shut her up. I have effective means to do that, you understand.”

  He spoke so casually about the abuse that Lizzy found it difficult to speak through her outrage. “You are a rogue, and you shan’t get away with this.”

  He seemed amused. “Who will stop me, Lizzy?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Do not use my Christian name, Wickham. Your familiarity is distasteful.”

  He tightened his hold on her wrist even further while massaging her leg with his other hand. He ignored her efforts to pull free. “We shall get much more familiar, Lizzy. Everything is going as planned. He shall emerge at any moment. When he sees us in flagrante delicto, he will surely cast you aside. She gets what she wants, and I get enough money to start over in the Colonies.”

  She frowned in confusion as she tried to wrench away. “Release me at once, or I shall scream.”

  “Go ahead.”

  His careless invitation spurred her to open her mouth to shout for help. Before Lizzy could do so, he swooped in and pressed his lips to hers. His tongue surged into her mouth, and the vomit she’d been fighting all day crept up the back of her throat at the intrusion. She let out a garbled sound and struggled to swallow the bile, lest she choke to death.

  “What is the meaning of this?” Fitzwilliam’s angry voice thundered from above them.

  Lizzy stiffened and tried to wrench away. This time, Wickham let her. She looked at Fitzwilliam with fear and guilt that she had no reason to feel. He seemed wounded. “It is not as it appears, Fitzwilliam.”

  “Is it not?” He asked that coldly as he turned his gaze to Wickham. “It appears this rake has violated you. If that is not the case, do correct me before I challenge him to a duel.”

  Lizzy gasped. For a moment, she almost pretended she had been a willing participant to keep Fitzwilliam from issuing a challenge. She feared for his safety, but she could not bring herself to profess she had willingly kissed her sister’s foul husband. “It is exactly as it appears.”

  Wickham looked a little shaken. “Surely you do not believe that, Darcy? She was eager for my kisses, but she seeks to assign me all the blame. I am sure you know how…close…I was to Lizzy in the past?”

  “Ugh,” she said with horror as she stood up and rushed to him. “I would never…”

  “I am sure you can confirm she has a mole just beside the cleft of her buttocks on the left cheek, old chap?” Wickham asked with impudence and a secretive smile.

  Lizzy’s mouth dropped open. She looked at Fitzwilliam, who seemed uncertain for the first time. “He’s lying.”

  Fitzwilliam sighed. “You do have a mole there. How does he know that?”

  Lizzy’s mouth opened and closed for a moment. “I do not know. Perhaps he spied on me when I was undressing?”

  “What a convenient excuse. It came so quickly to her, as though she had rehearsed that answer.” Wickham seemed to be enjoying the unfolding drama and looked unconcerned.

  Fitzwilliam still seemed unsure, and before he could say anything, the door to the drawing room opened, and Lady Catherine strode out. She left the door open behind her. “What is going on?”

  “I am afraid your nephew caught me in a tryst with his lovely wife,” said Wickham with a hint of boredom. “He is processing it now, but I am certain this will be the end of Mrs. Darcy. She shall return to a disgraced Bennet, no doubt.” He turned to look at Lizzy. “Perhaps I will take you on as my mistress, if your sister has no objection.”

  Lizzy’s eyes narrowed. She wanted to scream and rail at him, but his words were coming back to her. “Just before you came out, Fitzwilliam, he told me you would catch us, which would give her what she wanted, and him the funds to emigrate to America. I did not understand or have a clue who she might be, but I have a theory now.”

  Fitzwilliam nodded, though his expression revealed nothing. “Do share it, Lizzy.”

  “I suggest your dear aunt,” she said with heavy sarcasm, “Is conspiring with Lydia’s husband. They both left the dining room within a few minutes of each other the first night. That would have given Lady Catherine time to approach him and offer him a payout. Or perhaps he approached her, having guessed she hates me being married to you? They arranged this scene. Catherine gets to see you abandon me, and Wickham starts over in a new life that isn’t dependent on your generosity after he wastes the money you already paid him to marry Lydia.”

  Fitzwilliam’s eyes narrowed. “You are clever indeed, love. I do believe you are right.”

  Catherine paled. “What? You cannot believe this drivel, Fitzwilliam? I would never conspire with anyone, let alone the man who nearly ruined my own niece.”

  “It’s because of his actions that you approached him, I believe,” said Lizzy. “You know how dishonorable and underhanded he can be, and you wanted to use that to your advantage.”

  “That is enough out of you. You are not fit to stand in this hallway, let alone speak to me in such a fashion.” Catherine’s complexion turned red in a flash. “You are beneath contempt, and I have no idea how Fitzwilliam can handle the shame of how far he has fallen in everyone’s esteem.”

  Lizzy opened her mouth, but Fitzwilliam spoke up first. “I doubt your assessment, Lady de Bourgh, but the only esteem about which I care is my dear wife’s. As long as Lizzy loves and respects me, I need nothing else. I certainly do not need you. You will depart these premises this very evening. You are never to darken its doorway again, madam.”

  Catherine spluttered and protested, but it was clear Fitzwilliam had made up his mind. In a fit of rage, she stormed up the stairs a few moments later, shouting for a maid to pack for her.

  Her shouts brought the rest of the family from the drawing room, and everyone crowded around, all wanting answers. Wickham seemed on the verge of slithering away, but Fitzwilliam, Charles, and her papa blocked his exit while Fitzwilliam apprised everyone of the situation.

  Lydia was the one Lizzy worried about, and her heart sank when her sister broke into tears. It was only when Lydia started laughing as well that Lizzy dared hope her sister wasn’t destroyed by her marriage to Wickham. “Lydia, are you well?”

  “I feel fabulous. Surely, this will give me grounds for divorce?” She seemed carefree.

  “Not at all,” said Wickham in a cold voice. “I shall never let you be free of me. If your family wishes you to remain unharmed, they will pay a monthly stipend to ensure your continued good health.”

  Lydia scowled. “I shall never live with you again. He cannot force me, can he, Papa?” She turned to their father, eyes shining with unshed tears. “I cannot bear another moment with him. He hurts me and makes me do things…” She looked away as her face flushed.

  “I do not know, my dear,” said Papa, looking woeful. “He is your lawful husband…”

  “You were content to go to the Colonies a short time ago. You can still do that,” said Lizzy.

  “Of course,” said Charles. “That is an ideal solution.”

  “I have no money to go with,” said Wickham in a neutral tone. “The dowry Darcy paid for Lydia is gone. Emigrating is expensive.”

  “We shall pay your price to get out of her life, but I will require your agreement to annul the marriage,” said Darcy.

  “Yes, let us handle matters now.” Papa sounded angrier than Lizzy had ever heard as the three men forced Wickham to walk down the hall, clearly en route to Fitzwilliam’s study.

  Lizzy spent the next hour soothing fears and speculating with the others until Papa appeared in the doorway of the drawing room. He looked drained, but he smiled. “Papa?”

  “It is done. There are legalities to finalize, but we have his signature attesting the marriage was never consummated, and you shall have your annulment, my dear.” He hugged Lydia as he gave her the news.

  “Oh, Papa, thank you.” Lydia burst into tears as she hugged their father.

  “Where is he?” asked Lizzy.

  “Charles and Fitzwilliam are seeing him off via armed guard. Fitzwilliam moves quickly and arranged an escort to ensure he boards a ship to America as soon as he is back in London. We shall never lay eyes on him again.”

  Lizzy breathed a sigh of relief before joining the hugging her sisters were bestowing on Lydia as soon as their father relinquished his embrace. She would have to thank her dear husband properly later.

  Chapter Six

  When they were in their bedchamber later, she waited until he was sitting on a chair to remove his wellingtons before approaching him. She hovered for a moment. “Thank you, Fitzwilliam. Thank you for believing me and for saving Lydia.”

  He frowned. “I had a moment of doubt, which I regret. I know what kind of man he is, and there is no telling where he acquired the information about your mole. I should not have let him undermine my trust in you.”

  “Perhaps not, but he can be convincing.” She took a step closer. “Lydia is likely the source of his information, by the way. She told me he commented on the mole she has on her thigh, so she told him about the mole on my buttock and the one Jane has in an…indiscreet location.”

  His eyes widened, and then he grimaced. “Naturally, there was an explanation. I wronged you, my love.”

  Lizzy shook her head. “I am not angry. I understand your doubt, but you overcame it. Please do not fret.”

  He hesitated a moment and then nodded. “Very well.” He resumed removing his boots, but he sat there after he had finished. “Do you need something else, Lizzy?”

  “You.” She sat down on his lap, facing him. “This.” Lifting her head, she pressed her lips to his in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was rough and needy, and their lips molded together as they strained to get closer to each other. She hooked her arm around his neck to anchor herself, while gripping his shoulder with her other hand. It was an awkward position, and he soon remedied the problem by lifting and placing her on his lap.

  Lizzy cradled his thighs between hers as she straddled him, burrowing her fingers in his hair while pulling his head back to allow her better access to his mouth. He moaned when she dipped her tongue inside, and his hands clenched on her hips. Lizzy nibbled and sucked her way across the length of his lower lip, pausing frequently to swipe her tongue over his.

  When she opened her eyes, she found his closed, and his expression somewhere between urgent and relaxed. She felt the same way, needing her husband more than she could verbalize.

  Surrendering to instinct, she leaned back slightly, resting her bum on his knees so she could reach the hem of his shirt. He had already discarded his jacket, cravat, and waistcoat. She pulled it up and off of him in one smooth motion, assisted by his movements. He was clearly as eager to be rid of the garment as she was to see him without it.

  She scooted to lower her head in order to rake her tongue across his nipple. One of his hands went from her hip to her hair, grabbing a handful after unwinding the chignon confining it.

  She trailed her tongue slowly down his body, lightly scraping her teeth over a nipple before her lips moved lower as she eased off his lap and onto her knees. His breath hissed between his teeth, and his entire body grew tense as she licked the line of hair on his abdomen, pausing only centimeters from the fall of his breeches.

 

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