So, he thought. Miss Caroline Bingley, you mean to wait until morning, when the servants find us together? We shall see about that.
He rolled out of his bed, strode to the door, and turned the key. He had locked them both in, then he took his time locating the tinderbox and then lighting his candle.
“Well, well, what have we here? A tryst or a compromise, Miss Bingley?”
She gasped. “You locked me in! How dare you!”
“How dare I indeed,” he said coldly. “This ismybedchamber,mybed, and now you have placed yourself inmypower. I dare very easily, madam. What did you expect of a hardened military man, certainly not restraint?”
He crossed to where she lay, candle in one hand, his pistol in the other, and stood towering over the bed, his eyes narrowed as he looked at her.
“Move away, you naked devil, or I will scream!”
He gave a low, menacing laugh. “Scream away, my dear. When you do, I shall become the fortunate owner of a twenty-thousand-pound dowry which will be entirely under my control. It is only fair to tell you I am a pinch-penny, my girl, no more lavish gowns for you, no, madam. We will live quietly in the countryside at my estate. I detest the London season, the balls, the soirees, the theater. Or perhaps I shall finish my tour of duty on the Continent and bring you along. How would you like following the drum, my dear?”
He scowled down at the woman, her eyes wide as saucers. “Perhaps I shall require Bingley to add another ten thousand to sweeten the pot. You are not a woman I would ever choose to marry, even with thirty thousand pounds.”
Frightened, she slipped lower under the cover and pulled it up to just under her eyes. “Unlock the door at once! I have changed my mind. You are a brute! A savage! You are no gentleman!”
“Ah, so you understand me at last,” he said softly. “I am no gentleman. That was schooled out of me on the battlefields, inthe mud and the cold, fighting to stay alive. No, madam, I am no gentleman. If you force marriage on me, I will take what I want when I want it, as long as we both shall live.”
“Let me go,” she sobbed. “For the love of God, let me go!”
“So now you remember God,” he said. “Where were your scruples when you threatened my cousin and his wife with exposure? When you schemed to ruin a gentlewoman’s name?”
“I am sorry. I swear I will never speak of it again.”
“I do not believe you capable of silence. Bingley swears you cannot hold your tongue to save your life.”
“I can! I swear it! Only let me go!”
“If I release you, you will leave for the country. I do not wish to see your face in London for at least a year.”
“I will go,” she whispered.
He moved aside and held out the key. He still held his pistol in his other hand and checked it now with deliberate slowness.
“Remember this, Miss Caroline Bingley, I am not Darcy. He is a gentleman. I, on the other hand, am a soldier. A criminal, if you like. I have no conscience. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, sir,” she breathed.
He pointed to the door. “Go. Be gone before I change my mind and take you here and now.”
She took the key, struggled to unlock the door, fled from the room, ran through the dark corridors, and did not stop until she had reached her own bedchamber and locked the door. Sliding down against it, she crumpled to the floor, trembling and sickwith fright. She resolved to have her trunks packed and be gone from Netherfield before breakfast.
Richard chuckled. He stowed his pistol beneath his pillow and felt for his pocket watch on the bedside table. Squinting in the dark, he saw that it was only half past two. He slipped back into bed and laughed softly to himself. His training as an agent had served him well this night; she had believed every word.
If he were not a gentleman, he might share the tale with his cousin, but Darcy would be appalled, and Richard refused to fall so low. After all, she had been raised as a gentlewoman, and Bingley was his friend. It went against his honor to make her the butt of a jest. Nevertheless, he laughed again.
“By Jove,” he murmured, “this is our rescue. I believe she will hold her tongue after this little escapade.”
The colonel rolled to his side and fell asleep.
Lizzy groaned. Someone was shaking her. She opened her eyes to find Mr. Darcy bending over her, freshly shaven and looking as elegant as ever.
“Elizabeth, it is half past five. The maid will be in soon. Move to my bed while I fold these blankets and return them to the closet.”
She sat up, blinking. “Shall I go to my sister’s room?”
