“What’s in there?” Lizzy asked sharply, and she moved fearlessly toward him.
“You’re a jewel thief!” I said in shock, seeing a tiny flash of bright sparkle as the bag lifted up slightly.
He moved threateningly toward us, raising his fist.
“I told you not to poke your nose where it wasn’t wanted,” he said viciously, but he stopped to run his eyes appreciatively over Lizzy’s slim, lissome figure and big, luminous eyes.
“Maybe I’ll just takeyouwith me, you little vixen,” Mr. Radcliffe snarled, grabbing Lizzy’s arm.
Lizzy didn’t scream, but I saw no virtue whatsoever in a false bravado, soIdid scream, loudly and efficiently. Mr. Radcliffe had barely begun to drag Lizzy back to his horse with one meaty arm when I felt a shadow pass over the entrance to the stables and a tall, angry body stalked swiftly beside me.
It was Mr. Darcy, and in a few quick strides, he had grabbed Mr. Radcliffe by the arm. As Mr. Radcliffe turned around, Mr. Darcy hit him brutally in the face, sending the bigger man staggering back.
Lizzy screamed then, and Mr. Darcy caught her as she wrenched herself free of the villainous Mr. Radcliffe.
Mr. Radcliffe got up and I saw blood on his face. He lunged at Mr. Darcy, trying to knock him off his balance.
“Back, you whelp!” Darcy said, and I saw him kick one shiny black booted foot out, connecting with Mr. Radcliffe’s thigh.
With his free hand, Mr. Darcy grabbed one of the whips hanging on the wall of the stable, and he began to horsewhip Mr. Radcliffe most energetically.
Mr. Radcliffe was made of stern stuff, and he still came at Mr. Darcy, swinging a wild punch that Mr. Darcy had to move quickly to avoid.
Then suddenly, my husband was there, grabbing Mr. Radcliffe in his big arms, squeezing him tightly.
Mr. Radcliffe gasped, the breath getting crushed out of him by William’s strong arms.
I felt my heart begin to beat faster.
“Let him go!” said Mr. Darcy hotly. “I plan to flay the skin from his body for touching my wife.”
“Noton this august holiday,” Mr. Collins said. “Noton the sacred grounds of Rosings. It would put a damper on the festivities. We’ll turn him over to the magistrate.”
Mr. Darcy stared at my husband for a moment, his face stone-cold with anger.
I waited, my breath caught in my throat. Mr. Radcliffe was a big, thickly muscled man, but he was turning purple in my husband’s arm as Mr. Collins squeezed him tightly. I thought about how gently and carefully those arms had held me last night.
“Please, Fitzwilliam,” Lizzy said. “Think of what would happen if this news got out.”
Mr. Darcy smiled at Mr. Radcliffe, and his face was cold and brutal. “You have convinced me,” he said.
Lizzy and I breathed in relief. Think of the scandal!
My husband beamed, his good humor imperturbable. “I, of course, apologize for giving you what was perhaps an unwelcome suggestion,” he said, gradually relaxing his hold on Mr. Radcliffe. “But I thought it might be advantageous to exhibit the quality of mercy on this particular occasion.”
“Of course,” said Mr. Darcy. “I’m afraid when it comes to my wife I am very protective.”
He was not a demonstrative man either, but he clapped my husband on the shoulder. “I appreciate you stopping me. I would hate for any of this scandal to affect Georgiana’s chances of a good marriage.”
“Just so,” my husband said enthusiastically.
Lizzy smiled at him, too. “Thank you, Mr. Collins,” she said.
“I too, am very protective of my wife,” William said solemnly. “I would like to see any vile seducer try to make off withher.”
I, too, thought that would truly be something remarkable for a woman as plain as I was, but I said nothing, just smiled at my husband as he put a big arm affectionately around my waist. Lady Catherine’s advice about the dangers to clergymen in excessive romance had been forgotten, on Christmas and every day after that.
Mr. Darcy gave us one of his rare smiles. “Let’s tie this villain up for the magistrate,” he said.
