Page 18 of Infamous Relations

Elizabeth frowned, fighting the agony in her head. “Do – what? He was very rude, but he has injured Jane more than I…”

Charlotte blinked. “Lizzy – what is the last thing that you remember?”

Another tear slipped down Elizabeth’s cheek. “Mr. Darcy – came to see me – I pretended I had a headache so I didn’t have to go to Rosings. He told me that he deliberately separated Jane from Mr. Bingley…”

“Oh, dear Lord!” Charlotte grabbed her hand. “He didn’t touch you? He didn’t hurt you? Who was it, Lizzy?”

Elizabeth only stared blankly at her, and Charlotte realised she had no more time to ask questions. She turned and ran after Jane.

Downstairs, both Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam were wearing a path in the rug, pacing with anxiety, though on opposite sides of the room so they did not collide. The door opened, and the Colonel turned, but it was not Mrs. Collins who walked in. It was a tall, stunningly beautiful blonde lady who spared him a single dismissive glance – he had been given the cut direct less thoroughly by duchesses! – walked across the room to Darcy, drew back her arm and slapped him as hard as she possibly could across the face.

Darcy’s head snapped to one side with the force of the blow, and then he looked back at the blonde beauty – Fitzwilliam was already calling her Freyja, the Viking goddess of battle, in his mind – and said;

“I dare say I deserved that, Miss Bennet.”

“You dare say? You dare say! You – despicable monster!” Fitzwilliam might have expected a Valkyrie screech, but no, her voice came out soft and sweet, tremulous with tears. “I will see you suffer for this if it is the last thing I do!” She slapped him again, on the other cheek. “That is all the punishment I can give, on my poor sister’s behalf, but be assured that she is by no means unprotected!”

“Wait a minute,” Fitzwilliam moved forward. “Darcy didn’t hurt Miss Elizabeth!”

“I heard it from her own lips, sir!” the goddess turned on him.

“Wait – what?” Darcy exclaimed, bemused.

“Darcy would never seek to impose himself on a woman in such a way!” Fitzwilliam was absolutely sure of that. Darcy was too concerned for Miss Elizabeth, anyway. Only after he had already said the words did he realise that Darcy was not yet aware the extent of Elizabeth’s injuries.

“What?” Darcy staggered. “Impose myself – on Miss Elizabeth – what do you mean?”

“Darcy,” Fitzwilliam sought to mitigate the damage by telling him straight, “it appears that someone may have taken advantage of Miss Elizabeth. Her injuries suggest it.”

Darcy fell to his knees, his hands coming up to his face. “No,” he choked out, “No, not her. Not Elizabeth…”

Jane stood staring uncertainly from the suddenly shocked, collapsed Mr. Darcy, to the tall man who she had ignored on entering the room. He was a very big man, she thought suddenly, not quite so tall as Mr. Darcy but even broader of frame. He had neatly cut brown hair, dark blue eyes that seemed to pierce right through her and a squarish, not quite handsome face. He wore an air of command like a cloak, and Jane realised that this must be the cousin Elizabeth had mentioned in her letters and Charlotte had talked about the previous evening.

“Colonel?” she said warily.

“At your service,” he bowed automatically. “And you are – a Miss Bennet?”

“The Miss Bennet,” she corrected, also reverting to politesse. “I am Jane, Elizabeth’s eldest sister.”

“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, albeit under such trying circumstances. Miss Bennet, you must allow me to assure you that my cousin Darcy would never harm any woman – and most particularly not Miss Elizabeth. I have reason to believe that he holds her in very great regard.” Richard glanced at Darcy, who was crouched, his hands over his eyes, holding in wrenching sobs.

“My sister named Mr. Darcy as her attacker, sir!” Jane said, though she glanced uncertainly at Mr. Darcy. At that very moment Charlotte came rushing into the room.

“Jane, don’t... oh dear Lord,” as she saw the keening Darcy. “Colonel – it is a misunderstanding. Elizabeth does not remember being attacked. She remembers nothing since seeing Mr. Darcy the night before last and – arguing with him.”

“Oh,” Jane stared in horror at Mr. Darcy. “Oh, my God – what I accused him of – he will never forgive me – and I struck him!” She brought her hands to her face and began to tremble. “What have I done?”

“Miss Bennet,” suddenly she was transformed from the magnificent Valkyrie into a distraught young girl. Fitzwilliam wanted nothing more than to take her into his arms and comfort her, but all he could do was offer his handkerchief as tears began to slip down her cheeks. “I do not doubt my cousin will forgive you. He seemed to think perhaps he had committed some offence against you which might have justified your actions anyway, but as you can see he is deeply distraught at the discovery of Miss Elizabeth’s – accident. I must beg for a few moments alone with him so that I may help him regain his equanimity, and then I promise that we will both help you see that the miscreant responsible is brought to justice. I will do anything in my power to aid you, Miss Bennet; I swear my oath upon it.”

She nodded mutely, and Charlotte caught her arm. “Come, Jane, we must go back to Lizzy. I left her very confused. And we shall leave the Colonel and Mr. Darcy together. No one will disturb you here, sir,” she assured Fitzwilliam as she pulled the door shut behind them.

Chapter Fourteen

“Where is Mr. Collins?” Jane asked wearily as she and Charlotte ascended the stairs.

“I sent him over to the church. Today is Saturday, and as I cannot help with the flowers and arrangements for tomorrow, I sent him with Maria to consult with the verger and his wife.” Charlotte compressed her lips. “Mr. Collins said some rather unChristian things about Lizzy yesterday and I made it clear that I felt the sentiments unworthy of him, and that he should spend his time today in church consulting the Lord and meditating on God’s love for all mankind and willingness to forgive, rather than Lady Catherine’s intolerance for anything which does not precisely suit her wishes.”

“I say, well done, Charlotte,” Elizabeth said weakly, overhearing the last of that little speech as they re-entered her room. “It is about time someone pointed out to Mr. Collins that Lady Catherine, benevolent and omniscient as he believes her to be, is a poor substitute for the Almighty!”