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Chapter 28: Confessions and True Declarations

Posted on Sunday, 12 December 2004

Alexander Darcy had flung the door open with ferocious force: he did not wish to have his beloved Isabella be imprisoned for a moment longer than he could prevent it. He rushed in, shouting out assurances and endearments, but found the dark room entirely empty!

Isabella was not there!

"Bella!" called Mr. Bingley urgently as he rushed in behind Alexander. Mr. Darcy was hot upon their heels as well.

"My dear . . ." the words died upon Mr. Bingley's lips as he realized that his daughter was missing!

"Good God!" exclaimed Mr. Darcy as well. Presently, he dashed back to the outer room, and seized hold of George Wickham very roughly.

"Where is she? Where is our niece Isabella?"

Mr. Wickham, injured by the close explosion of gunpowder of the jammed pistol, was in severe pain. His entire face was a frightful, bloody sight. He groaned loudly in response as he was near collapse. Philip Gardiner and Freddie Wickham were valiantly holding him upright between them, and they were about to descend the stairs of the warehouse.

"Wickham!" demanded Mr. Darcy, "What have you done to Isabella?" In his agitation, Mr. Darcy shook the injured man. His impressive physical strength, coupled by his worried concerns, lifted Wickham clear off his feet.

Wickham gave a frightful shout, and moaned pitifully. "Isabella is in the room. I locked her in . . . I've done her no harm . . . Darcy, I swear! . . . Never laid a finger upon her . . . The impertinent chit threw a chair at me! She even hit me!"

"She is not in the room!" exclaimed Mr. Darcy.

"That I know not!" pleaded Wickham in despair. "Please! Darcy! Please believe me!"

Looking at his brother-in-law in loathsome disgust, Mr. Darcy resisted the urge to throw the devastating punches that he mastered at Gentleman Jackson's boxing saloon so many years ago. Instead, he let go of him with a careless toss - as if he was a piece of useless fixture destined for the refuse heap. Wickham tumbled backwards, arms flaying and uttering another cry of despair, but Freddie caught hold of him in time.

"Perhaps she has made an escape, sir? I . . . I myself climbed out of the window, and down the drain pipe to the alley below," said Freddie in a hesitant voice. He knew that he and his father were at the mercy of this formidable gentleman, and he dared not speak to offend him further.

At these words, Mr. Darcy nodded gravely, and turned to Philip Gardiner. He could not trust himself to speak to either Wickham - father or son - without losing his composure. It was his grave error of judgment - throughout these years, his concerns to protect the innocents had overridden the need to expose the many evils of George Wickham to the world! He silently blamed himself yet again.

"Thank you, Philip, for being here. Your friendship - indeed, the friendship of your entire family - is invaluable."

"You know well that such sentiments are mutual, Darcy," smiled the younger man graciously.

Mr. Darcy turned back to the inner room immediately, leaving the three men to be on their way to Dr. Dewhurst's.

The window!

It was the only way out of the room other than the locked door, surmised Alexander. Isabella must have climbed out of it to make her own escape! Surely, she did not jump out of it! No, his mind screamed in vehement protest! It was an unbearable thought, and he shook it off immediately. He leaned out of the window as far as he could. It was pitch dark below, and he could not see the ground at all from three stories above.

"Isabella!" he called out several times, but there was no answer at all.

He stripped off his coat to avoid unnecessary encumbrances, and tossed it to his uncle. "I am going to climb down from here, Uncle Charles."

"We shall go down via the stairs," replied Mr. Bingley. "Your father and I are not as young as we used to be."

"Yes," agreed Mr. Darcy as he rejoined Mr. Bingley. "Besides, I think this drain pipe leads to the back of the building. It's best if we spread out to search for Isabella in different directions."

Alexander did not wait before he started to climb down. He caught only a few of his uncle's words and none of his father's. He wrapped his arms around the metal pipe, and scampered down as fast as he could, praying that he would not find Isabella lying unconscious at the bottom as a result of a dreadful fall!

As physically strong as he was, he found that he needed much strength to hold onto the pipe in order to secure a safe descent. He could not imagine how Isabella could manage to climb down from the top floor of the warehouse to the street level. He continued to glance downward as he climbed, but it was too dark for him to see clearly. He called out her name in great anxiety, but dead silence greeted him.

He landed safely on the ground, and looked around urgently. He struck a match to view his surroundings more clearly. The flicker of light was weak, but he could see that Isabella was not there. Greatly relieved that she was not lying face down on the street, but worried that some other evils might have befallen upon her, he turned and looked in all directions. The back alley was hidden in total darkness. He struck another match as he gave the alley a quick inspection. He found it completely deserted as well.

Lud, where could she be?

He raced around the warehouse to the main street, calling her name loudly as he ran.

"Isabella!" he shouted over and over again, his strong voice resonant in the night air. There were distant sounds of dogs barking, and cats meowing. He did not hear other sounds responding to his call. The absence of human noises seemed rather eerie, but it was very late at night, and the fire-damaged warehouse area was rather extensive. The moon remained hidden behind the clouds.

Alexander debated whether he should head towards the direction of the docks when he thought he saw a movement far ahead - in the shadows, just beyond the street lights. He turned and ran towards it. His long, powerful legs carried him in a fast sprint, and as he was closing in on the shadowy figure, he knew instinctively that it was a woman.

"Isabella!" he called out again. "Isabella!"

The shadowy figure had started to run again, but the sound of his deep voice halted its steps. The street light nearby reflected the glimmer of golden hair, and Alexander felt as if his heart had leaped out of his chest at the sight of it. He ran faster than he had ever run in his entire life. In a matter of several heartbeats, he was within reach of her.

Isabella had been so terrified when the initial sounds of heavy boots pounding upon the cobblestone street seemed to close in upon her with every step. She had exhausted nearly all her strength climbing down the metal pipe to make her escape. Her nerves were frayed, and she was near the point of collapse. She could hardly take another step, yet she knew she had no other alternative. She wondered if she could escape her captor this time! Her luck seemed to be running out as the footsteps were fast upon her!

When the voice calling out her name was close enough to be distinguished, she felt the greatest relief flooded throughout her entire being. "Isabella!" came the plaintive cry again. It was definitely not the voice of her Uncle George Wickham.

"Isabella!" She knew the sound of that beloved voice anywhere!

A renewed surge of energy came upon her as she ran towards Alexander Darcy, and literally flew into his welcoming arms. He caught her squarely, and brought her convulsively to his chest.

"Thank God!" he exclaimed breathlessly. "Thank God!" he repeated as he buried his face in her loosened hair, and held her in the closest embrace. She had lost her bonnet during her escape. She was also devoid of gloves or an overcoat.

"Alexander!" she cried with astonished relief, embracing him as tightly in return. She knew not how he had found her. Nevertheless, he was here, and she was safe at last! Her sense of relief so overwhelmed her that she could not speak any other word but his name.

He, likewise, was so choked by his own emotions that he could do nothing but pressed her closer to him still. He murmured her name over and over again, as if he needed to convince himself that he was not in a mad dream, but was actually holding her safely in his arms.

They remained thus - clinging onto each other in silence. Every breath they took was mingled with the scent of each other, and they could both feel the extraordinary sensation - as if a healing balm was being poured upon them as they breathed - in the safest of sanctuary - in the reassuring warmth of each other's embrace.

He finally managed to speak again. He pulled back from her slightly so that he could see her precious face.

"Are you hurt, my darling? Are you injured in any way?"

"No," she managed a smile, as tears of relief ran down her face. "I am not hurt. Some mere cuts and scrapes only. Nothing to signify!"

"Has Wickham harm you in any way?" he asked in a shaking voice, his anger at their uncle was beyond measure. "Has he or anyone else hurt you?"

"No," she replied, more firmly and with a brighter smile this time. "Uncle Wickham threatened me, but I managed to hit him with a chair. I even gave him a few nasty blows with a metal spittoon when he was down on the ground. He cursed me mercilessly, but he did not hit back or did me harm."

"And our cousin Freddie?" He needed to confirm Freddie's protest of innocence - to ensure that his darling did not suffer at his hands.

"Freddie managed to force his kisses upon me - as distasteful as Lord Braunfield's kisses were, I must admit - before I managed to break free of him. Fortunately, I talked some sense into his befuddled mind. Indeed, he was quite pitiful in the end!"

"Thank God!" he said, hugging her close to him again, almost crushing her by the intensity of his feelings. He shuddered to imagine the consequences if their cousin Freddie had been as terrible a scoundrel as Uncle Wickham. As such distressful thoughts entered his mind, he realized that nothing mattered now. His beloved Isabella was safe, and he was not likely to let her stray too far away from his protective arms ever again!

For Isabella, the urgent hopes - of speaking directly to Alexander, of ascertaining his true feelings for her, and to declaring her own for him - was the prime source of her inspiration during her living nightmare. It was fond remembrances of being in the blissful haven of his arms that gave her the inner strength to endure her imprisonment, to triumph over her captors, and to make her successful escape.

"Oh, my dearest love!" Alexander exclaimed emphatically as he freed one hand to caress her face. Without further ado, he began to kiss her forehead, her cheeks, and her neck - showering countless of tender kisses upon her. This torturous ordeal, compounded by their long months of painful misunderstanding, the additional weeks of lonely separation after their splendid tête-à-tête at Ridgemont - had taken their toll upon his admirable fortitude and iron discipline. He could no longer hold back the floodgates of his love for her.

He whispered her name once before he captured her mouth with a passionate kiss of such intensity that it quite shocked her. Yet, his fiery kiss felt exceedingly pleasant as well. She could easily discern the tenderness and sincerity of his heart beneath the torrent created by his lingering kiss. She could do little but surrender, and allowed him to confess his love through such a kiss.

This kiss rightfully surpassed their memorable first kiss under the Great Tree - all his yearnings, fears and hopes for her were well evident. He continued thus, with such unabashed, tumultuous outpouring of emotion, until he finally stopped. He did so, rather unexpectedly and abruptly, and it was not for the purpose of catching his breath.

"Forgive me, Isabella! Forgive me!" he pleaded breathlessly. He drew his head back to gaze at her, but his arms retained their protective hold around her waist.

She was so overwhelmed by the joy of being in his arms, being kissed so effusively by him that she cried and laughed at his urgent words of apology.

"There is no need to beg forgiveness . . . if you truly wish to kiss me!" Her mirthful spirit rose again, as she reached up shyly to caress his face, to show that his kisses were gladly welcomed. "Yet, you must be honest with me," she added softly, "for I must look terribly unkempt and undesirable at this moment."

"I have never seen a more beautiful sight than you!" he exclaimed truthfully.

She laughed - a clear, angelic sound that warmed his heart, and soothed his very soul. She looked up at him, meeting his eyes steadily, and waited - as she did at Bittle's Inn - for him to declare aloud what his eloquent love sonnets had already done so on parchment.

"Isabella, I love you! So utterly and completely!"

She received his earnest confession with indescribable joy, and gave him the most radiant of smiles. Her face became so diffused with love for him that any verbal declaration of her own devotion was unnecessary.

There were, however, a few selected words in the English language that begged to be said, loudly and repeatedly, because of the great pleasure such words would inevitably yield.

"I love you too, my darling!" she said, with tears of happiness flowing freely down her face. "I did not always love you, but I do love you now, so dearly and profoundly!"

She touched his face with bolder caresses, and he responded by kissing her palm before he captured her lips again - this time by her open invitation and acceptance.

Another lingering kiss ensured - this one was more of a solemn promise rather than unabashed passion. It confirmed their mutual hopes and sealed the promises their first kiss had ignited so many months ago.

When he finally lifted his head, he looked deeply into her brilliant blue eyes. He had never felt more certain about anything else but what his own heart was demanding at that moment. He took a deep breath, knelt down before her on one knee, took her hands in his, and beseeched her in the most direct manner.

"My darling Isabella, will you marry me? I am your husband if you will have me!"

A look of astonishment came into her eyes. He had always been so taciturn, and she did not expect him to leap from his open declaration of love to a marriage proposal within a matter of heartbeats! She recalled their splendid tête-à-tête at Ridgemont - when he could barely utter the appropriate words of initial courtship to her - was awestruck to find such a startling transformation in him.

He had held his breath whilst he waited for her to ponder his proposal. It was but mere seconds when she rendered to him her answer. Yet, those moments had seemed like the ages, and he felt as if his life hung in the balance.

"Bella?" he murmured almost inaudibly, using the more familiar form of her name, relishing the way it sounded.

"Yes!" came her solemn answer, spoken without any hesitation or doubts.

He remained frozen to the spot, kneeling before her, and he seemed genuinely stunned by the incredible reality of her affirmation.

"Oh, yes! Yes, my love!' she repeated as she pulled at him so he would be on his feet again. He laughed at last, jovially and loudly, as he swept her back into his arms.

"Thank you!" he murmured, a grateful exclamation to the woman of his heart and to the Almighty at the same time. His heart overflowed with such happiness, and the lingering dark storm clouds in his mind parted forever.

She joined him in blissful laughter. They might be standing in a dirty, dimly lighted cobblestone street somewhere in Cheapside, but they both felt as if they were basking in glorious sunshine, in a pristine and idyllic paradise of their own. Tears of joy and relief flowed freely down their faces. He did not feel any embarrassment for letting her see his tears. He wanted to pour his heart out to her, and never to conceal anything from her again.

From this moment onwards, he vowed to himself, he would take every opportunity to tell her how much he loved and adored her!

Similar thoughts and feelings which were coursing through Isabella as well. She buried her face into his muscular chest, and murmured endearments to him over and over again. The sheer pleasure and novelty of such expressions engendered more of the kind.

They knew not how long they stood there, in the closest embrace, for they were measuring time with their own rapid heartbeats. They continued to wonder how such a miracle could have happened, when only moments ago, they had been in such gloomy despair!

After a lengthy but futile search in the wrong direction, Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley finally came upon the young couple. Seeing their own respective son and daughter enveloped in such a close embrace caused the fathers to halt their steps, and stared at each other in embarrassed wonder.

"Bella!" called Mr. Bingley.

At the sound of her father's voice, Isabella looked up. She ran to him eagerly.

"Papa!"

"I can see that you are safe and well," exclaimed Mr. Bingley as he hugged her.

"Yes, Papa," she replied with merry laughter. She did not look like a young woman who had been held as a captive in an abandoned warehouse by an evil uncle. Aglow with love, she seemed as if she was merely taking a romantic walk with her betrothed.

Mr. Darcy took advantage of the moment of their reunion to thank his own son.

"Alexander!" he seized him in a fatherly embrace, "You have saved my life, son! Incredibly brave and selfless of you, but I dread to imagine what might have happened if your bold action resulted in your ultimate sacrifice! I could never face your mother again!"

"You would have done the same for me, Papa!" declared Alexander earnestly, his own voice trembling with emotion as well. He had unintentionally reverted back to his boyhood address of his father, and Mr. Darcy took notice of it with a broad grin.

"I love you, son."

"And I you, Papa!"

Alexander finally noticed the affectionate salutation as well. He grinned in embarrassment, but repeated it again - "I do love you so, Papa!" The sheer joy of being able to declare love for a father so cherished and esteemed was quite splendid.

"How did you all get here?" asked Isabella incredulously as the tidy group now stood in a circle. "How did you know that Mr. Wickham had imprisoned me at the warehouse? He told me that it was not a kidnapping for ransom money, but an entirely different evil scheme!"

"I know the shocking details, my love," replied Alexander, "Freddie came to me instead of the police."

"It is a rather complicated tale, my dear," remarked Mr. Darcy. "Let us take you back - first to the warehouse, and then safely home. The night air is too chilly for you, Isabella."

Ever the considerate gentleman, Mr. Darcy had already taken off his greatcoat, and draped it over her shoulders.

"Thank you, Uncle Fitzwilliam!"

Mr. Darcy acknowledged her thanks with a broad grin. He turned to his brother-in-law and said, "Bingley, please allow my sturdy son to carry your daughter back. She looks too weary to take another step."

Mr. Bingley readily consented. It was imperative that they returned to the warehouse, as Mr. Edward Gardiner was due to arrive with the police, and Philip Gardiner, with the aid of Freddie, had taken Mr. Wickham to the doctor.

Alexander carefully wrapped his father's greatcoat around Isabella before he scooped her up into his arms. She blushed as she put her arms around his neck, making it easier for him to cradle her closer to his chest. Such closeness was mutually intoxicating: her attention focused entirely upon her beloved, whilst he managed to retain a small measure of rational thinking. He glanced over to his own father and uncle momentarily, and saw their beaming smiles of approval. He proceeded to lead the way back to Mr. Gardiner's warehouse, carrying the most precious treasure he had ever held in his arms. The distance back to the warehouse seemed much shorter now that they were walking in such leisurely steps, and had such happiness in their hearts. It had seemed such an agonizingly long way when they searched for her earlier.

Recollection of his own fears sent a brief shudder down his spine. She felt it instantly - not the shudder itself, but the subtle change of mood in him.

"What is the matter, my darling?" she said very gently.

He grinned back at her, and said, "Nothing at all. Only a fleeting memory of how I searched frantically for you earlier. I never felt so helpless in my life - not even when I was trapped in the coal mine!"

She tightened her hold around his stout neck. If they were entirely alone, she would have kissed him. She settled for a discreet caress of his handsome cheek instead.

"Thank you for coming to my rescue!" she murmured as she rested her weary head gratefully against his broad shoulder. "I had prayed that you would!"

"Rescue?" He chuckled softly, "You are the fairest damsel in the realm, my darling, but you are certainly not a damsel in distress! How did you ever manage to climb down the metal drain pipe to make your escape?"

"As a matter of fact, I cannot readily explain. I was being very careful and prayed a lot! I supposed I never considered how high off the ground I truly was, and I certainly did not look down whilst I climbed! I convinced myself that it was almost like climbing down from our childhood tree houses at Maywood and at Pemberley."

After a moment's pause, she added a confession, "And I thought of you, my dearest Alex - of how safe I felt when I was in your strong arms. I recalled every word, every gesture, and every look we shared that day at Ridgemont and that night at Bittle's Inn. As I climbed, I convinced myself that you were but a few feet away from me below, waiting for me eagerly - our promised reunion in Town - and that I was not in danger at all!"

Alexander could not have been more pleased to hear those words. She thought of him in the worst moments of personal danger, and such thoughts had given her resilient strength and hope! Yet, he knew they owed her safe deliverance to a much higher power!

"I believe the divine hand of God reached down to protect you," said Alexander with deep reverence. "We must render our prayers of thanksgiving most humbly."

"Yes," she nodded her head in absolute agreement, "as I have to thank the Almighty for letting me be yours and for lifting the fog out of my befuddled mind to appreciate your love at last!"

He could no longer resist the temptation to kiss her, especially now that all his kisses would be so gladly welcomed! The music in her voice sent such fires of passion through his veins, and his heart swelled with such fullness of joy!

"My dearest and loveliest Isabella," he murmured huskily as he bent his head to kiss her. It was a very brief kiss, but the passion within it was palpable. Although it was too dark in the street for him to see her clearly, he knew that the deepest blush had overcome her lovely visage. She had turned her face, and burrowed it into his chest. They both realized that these remarkable moments since their mutual declaration of love were but mere glimpses into their splendid future together!

"I must speak to your father as soon as I can have a private moment with him," he declared, "so that he can give us his blessing. Tomorrow morning, I shall apply directly to the Archbishop for a special license!"

She nodded in silent agreement, her face still hidden from view. He laughed softly, and teased her, "I hope you will not be so shy of me all the time, my darling Bella! I love holding you thus, but I should like to behold your precious face once a while!"

Her muffled laughter brought a fresh smile to his face. He realized that, like his father, he had his own angel at last! He could well imagine the joys of life with Isabella, and he would learn to brook greater happiness than he truly deserved. . .

Chapter 29

Posted on Monday, 3 January 2005

As much as Alexander Darcy wished to take his beloved Isabella safely home, he realized that it was imperative to speak with Captain Greenwood of the Metropolitan London Police. They were now but a few yards from the warehouse, and he could clearly see Mr. Edward Gardiner waiting for them at the front entrance. Captain Greenwood was conversing with a couple of his police constables, who had returned from their apparent futile search for Isabella Bingley.

"Thank heaven that you are safe, my dear!" exclaimed Mr. Gardiner as he stepped forward to greet Isabella. The old gentleman smiled approvingly at the younger Darcy. With his quick mind and incisive nature, Mr. Gardiner could readily comprehend that something significantly important had occurred between the young couple. He could easily recall such similarly radiant look on the face of his dear niece Elizabeth when she became betrothed to her dear Mr. Darcy.

Captain Greenwood's authoritative voice commanded everyone's immediate attention. "Miss Bingley, I realize that you have suffered quite an ordeal. With your kind permission, I shall require only a few statements at the present moment. This is a very straight forward matter, and I can tidy up the details later in the morning."

Alexander was still holding Isabella in his arms, and the Captain saw that the young gentleman was unlikely to release his hold until he could get her safely home. Mr. Gardiner led the way to a spacious and comfortable office on the main floor. Since the entire warehouse had been closed, the old office was a bit dusty and cold. Someone had already rekindled the fireplace, and Alexander placed his darling gently upon a leather chair closest to the warm fire. He knelt down beside her, and grasped her hands to examine them. There were small cuts and scrapes on her palms and fingers, and he attended to them immediately. The fear of infection was always great, even from the most minor injuries. He was grateful that his mother had always insisted that he carried a small jar of herbal salve with him for such uses.

Isabella smiled sweetly at him, grateful for his prodigious care of her. After the traumatic long hours of being held prisoner, she finally felt safe again. She longed to be back in the warm haven of his arms, but knew that they would have to endure this interview with the police.

Captain Greenwood cleared his throat as he began the official inquiry. One of his men sat at the desk, with quill and paper in hand.

"By pure coincidence, we passed by Dr. Dewhurst's house on our way here, and Mr. Gardiner recognized the Darcy carriage at once. By stopping there and speaking to Mr. Philip Gardiner for several moments, I was about to ascertain the bare facts of the case. The good doctor barely had a chance to administer to his patient when I arrived - but what I have seen of George Wickham, his condition seems very grim indeed!"

Captain Greenwood saw the looks of genuine concern on the faces of those present. No matter how dastardly Mr. Wickham was, it seemed that these decent folks did not wish for Mr. Wickham's demise.

"I took sworn statements from Mr. Philip Gardiner and young Frederick Wickham, in regards to Mr. Wickham's injury and the violent confrontation that was the cause of it. They then informed me that Miss Isabella was still missing, so I felt it imperative that I should be here instead. I left one of my men there to take full custody of Mr. Wickham, who is effectively my prisoner."

Captain Greenwood paused to turn his attention entirely upon Isabella. With an encouraging smile, he asked, "Miss Bingley, how were you abducted? And how on earth did you ever manage to make your own escape from a locked room on the top floor of this old warehouse?"

Isabella took a deep breath, and gave a succinct narration of her ordeal - from being approached by a stoutly built but seemingly harmless veteran soldier begging for alms, to the shock of being bound, gagged and bundled into a burlap sack, to her imprisonment and eventual confrontation with the Wickhams. She did not realize how frighten she had been until she recounted her experience. Her voice trembled despite of her efforts to maintain her countenance, but the firm touch of Alexander's hand upon her shoulder made her felt better almost instantaneously.

"Why did you not wait for Frederick Wickham's return?" wondered Captain Greenwood aloud.

"I must confess that I do not have the same confidence and trust in Freddie as I do in my other worthy cousins," was her simple reply.

"I see," nodded the captain impressively. "So you decided to take matters into your own hands?"

"I was determined not to rely solely upon Freddie for my deliverance. The brief but violent confrontation with Uncle George Wickham confirmed my fears - he seemed to teeter on the brink of madness - of harming me personally regardless of his scheme. As I became despair of being discovered by my family or the authorities until it was too late, I decided to take my fate into my own hands. After I said my prayers, I climbed down the drain pipe in the same manner as Freddie did."

Isabella smiled at last - a bright and confident smile that reflected the stalwart character beneath her demure, classical beauty. Proving one's mettle by the test of fire did not seem to be the exclusive providence of men. Everyone in the room stared at her with absolute amazement. She was, without a doubt, the most resourceful and intrepid young lady they had ever known.

"You mentioned a violent confrontation earlier. I suppose I was not even in the room when it occurred. Was anyone . . ." she paused, fearing that Mr. Wickham should suffer a mortal wound, and her beloved Alexander might be implicated!

"Only Mr. Wickham was injured," said Captain Greenwood briskly. "By Mr. Philip Gardiner's sworn statement, it was an injury brought about by his own action."

"What happened?" Isabella asked with natural curiosity. Mr. Bingley spoke up immediately, and proceeded to give a detailed and vivid account of the event. He proved to be a calm observer in the maelstrom, and his clear narration confirmed Philip Gardiner's earlier testimony. Isabella's large blue eyes grew even bigger as she listened to the grave dangers the Darcys went through in order to save her.

Mr. Gardiner took out his whiskey flask from his coat pocket, and offered it to his grandniece. "Here, my dear, take a sip. I must confess that after hearing the incredible story of your misadventure, I should require a drink to calm my old nerves!" After a moment's reflection, he shook his head in amazement and interjected a quote from a favourite poem, ". . .an angel rides in the whirlwind, and directs the storm!"

Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy were experiencing entirely different emotions. As relived as they were that Isabella had come to no great harm, the fact that she had been put through such dangers, and had been threatened with the horrible prospect of a forced marriage by rape, was enough for them to wish George Wickham to Hades itself.

"Where is Mr. Wickham now?" she asked.

"I took pity on Wickham, and I allowed Philip and Freddie to take him to Dr. Dewhurst," said Mr. Darcy to his niece. "Eye injuries generally require immediate medical attention."

"May I say that it is very magnanimous of you, sir, to aid a fellow who was so determined to put a bullet through your heart!" Captain Greenwood remarked to Mr. Darcy, his face with obvious respect for the gentleman. He had heard of Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy's sterling reputation in society, and that his charitable donations to London's various beneficence societies over the years had been substantial.

"Captain Greenwood," interjected Mr. Darcy, "might I implore you to hear our present proposal?"

The captain glanced at Mr. Bingley, slightly puzzled that Mr. Darcy should be the spokesman for him, but Mr. Bingley nodded with his full consent as he clasped his daughter's hand firmly in his. "Mr. Darcy and I had the opportunity to discuss various matters whilst we were walking back here. He speaks for me, indeed, for all of us - as I am too agitated for words at the present moment!

"Very well, sir" said Captain Greenwood as he looked at Mr. Darcy expectantly.

"Mr. Bingley does not wish to press charges against George Wickham because to do so would bring further scandals to our families," explained Mr. Darcy on his brother-in-law's behalf. "We suffer rather peculiar circumstances: Mr. Wickham is married to the youngest sister of our wives. He is the estranged husband of Lydia, but he still our relation. We believe that young Frederick Wickham is blameless in his father's foul scheme. Indeed, Freddie came to us with the vital intelligence of Isabella's whereabouts, and his own brave action to shield me from harm should bear merits in this matter. Therefore, we sincerely hope to seek a quick resolution to this sad affair, and not have lengthy criminal procedures being conducted in the Courts. The severity of Mr. Wickham's eye injuries may well render him a blind invalid for the rest of his life, and the condition of his agitated mind might well consign him to the asylum at Bedlam!"

Captain Greenwood nodded his head in thoughtful silence. He had been an officer of the law almost three decades - his career started as a young Bow Street Runner under Mr. Fielding - and he had seen the results of crimes rendering more harm to the victims than their perpetuators! He surmised that the gossip mills of high society must be as cruel as those of the lower classes. The family honour of these virtuous people standing presently before him would likely suffer more than Wickham's reputation - ready fodder for the idle public.

"If I can be certain that Miss Isabella has not suffered . . ." the captain gestured rather than voiced the actual words to complete his delicate question.

"I am fine, Captain Greenwood," declared Isabella with immediate comprehension to his unspoken question. "My virtue has not been compromised. The few scrapes on my hands came from my descent down the metal pipe - my leather gloves were torn to shreds!"

"I made a preliminarily examination of these premises when Mr. Gardiner and I first arrived here . . . and I found . . . an article of . . . lady's undergarment on the floor in the room," said Captain Greenwood with obvious awkwardness.

"Oh!" replied Isabella blushingly as she explained herself. "I . . .well, I had to discard my petticoats - yards of encumbering fabric and fancy laces - before I made my escape. I did so for a very logical reason - I did not want to risk an unnecessary fall - perhaps to my own death - by my mode of fashion. It was not a time to be missish about one's appearance, so I tore off the bulk of it."

A light chuckle escaped from Alexander's throat as he commented, "Who can fault such clear logic?" Soon, everyone joined in with bemused laughter.

"Captain Greenwood, I am perfectly well! I should only require a hot bath and fresh clothes to be well again!" exclaimed Isabella calmly.

"You should also require food, sleep, and proper pampering," added Alexander as he stood attentively close to his beloved.

Captain Greenwood looked upon the handsome young gentleman - of such tall stature and powerful physique, with such fierce filial devotion that prompted him to thrust himself in harm's way to protect his own father, and with such obvious tenderness and love for this beautiful and remarkable young lady. The good captain was so used to the evil, ugly side of human nature in his routine work that the sight of such fine people before him was like a soothing balm. He sighed, and gave a tentative consent to the unusual request.

"I should need to speak with my superiors, of course, but Mr. Bingley's wish for not pressing charges against Mr. Wickham and the peculiar circumstances of this case will be given due consideration, I assure you. There is, of course, Mr. Wickham's paid cohort - the man who was responsible for the actual abduction of Miss Bingley - a criminal action which we need to pursue."

"Yes, of course," nodded Mr. Bingley. "We fully comprehend Her Majesty's laws and shall abide by them."

Isabella informed Captain Greenwood of the conversation regarding deserters and cowards that she overheard whilst she was still blindfolded.

Captain Greenwood agreed that the murder committed at Waterloo was a capital crime, and the guilty man would hang from the gallows for it. It might be harder to prove Mr. Wickham's complicity in that particular matter, if he was indeed involved.

"As for young Frederick Wickham, this abduction has not been a kidnapping for ransom demands, albeit a premeditated social crime of a different nature . . ."

"For which, unfortunately, our society has a different set of standards," remarked Isabella, wondering briefly of women throughout history, as pawns of their families, had been forced to marry against their will. Such unpleasant thoughts naturally made her appreciate her happy situation with Alexander Darcy even more.

Alexander seemed to have sensed her inner thoughts as well, for he allowed his hand to rest gently upon her shoulder. He looked expectantly at Captain Greenwood, and said, "If you are satisfied, sir, I wish to escort Miss Bingley home immediately."

"Yes, of course! Use my carriage if you please, as I believe your father's carriage has yet to return from Dr. Dewhurst's."

"Thank you, sir," said Alexander with a gracious bow at the captain, "that is exceedingly kind of you."

"However, if I can detain Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy for a few moments longer," remarked the Captain cordially as he turned to look at Mr. Bingley, "I should like to examine the rooms upstairs again, this time in your company, sir."

Mr. Bingley bent to kiss his daughter, and patted Alexander on his back. "Take Isabella home. We shall be back presently."

Alexander nodded obediently as he scooped Isabella up in his arms again. The prodigious care he was bestowing upon her revealed the depth of his devoted love for her, and he was not shy in making a public display of it.

Indeed, the sight of such a well-matched couple reunited at the end of such a horrendous ordeal brought barely suppressed smiles to all present in the room.

Their homecoming was greeted with shrieks of joyous cries and prayers of thanksgiving for the entire Bingley household.

As reluctant as Alexander was, he had to give up holding Isabella in his arms, and allowed her to be swept upstairs by her loving mother and sisters. He was glad that his own mother and sisters had kept their vigil with the Bingleys.

"You have done it," exclaimed Lizzy and Jane in unison, being extremely proud of their brother. "You have saved Isabella!"

"Bravo, dear heart," said Mrs. Darcy as she gave her son a tender kiss.

"Actually, Isabella managed to escape the evil clutches of the Wickhams on her own!" said Alexander with a hearty laugh. "She is amazing!"

"What happened?" asked Lizzy excitedly. "And where are Papa, Uncle Charles and the Gardiners?"

"Lizzy!" said Mrs. Darcy firmly, "Let your dear brother catch his breath, and let him come in to the drawing room to sit down first!"

Alexander looked around vainly for Isabella, a look of concern clouded his handsome face momentarily. He had been holding her almost continuously in his arms since the moment he found her, and he felt very lost without her now. . .

When her son first emerged from the carriage with Isabella in his arms, Mrs. Darcy already guessed that he had finally won the heart of his fair cousin. She patted his arm reassuringly, and said, "I shall join your Aunt Jane upstairs now. I shall personally see to the care of our dear Isabella."

"Thank you, Mother," smiled Alexander gratefully.

"Alexander?" demanded Lizzy as she tugged at the hands of her brother. He had closed his eyes for a moment as he leaned back against the comfortable armchair. "You are going to regale us with the story of your daring deeds, aren't you? Jane and I wish for a minute by minute reporting!"

Jane Darcy was as eager as her younger sister Lizzy to hear the full tale, but presently, she gave her brother a cup of steaming hot tea and a plate of refreshment first.

"Thank you, Jane!" smiled Alexander as he proceeded to recount the events of the night.

By the time he finished his story, Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley were making their entry into the townhouse. Another flurry of excited greetings occurred, as Mrs. Darcy and Mrs. Bingley were coming downstairs from Isabella's room at the same moment.

"Where is our darling Bella now?" inquired Mr. Bingley with fatherly concern.

"She enjoyed a very soothing lavender bath, and she is now sleeping safely in her own bed - warm and content!" said Mrs. Bingley with effusive joy.

"Good! Very good, indeed," said Mr. Bingley as he kissed his wife tenderly on the cheek. "Where is Alexander? I must thank him properly!"

Mrs. Darcy, in the meanwhile, had caught her dear husband's hand, and drew him aside to let the others proceed to the drawing room. Isabella had given her aunt, mother, and sisters a full narration of her ordeal whilst she bathed. Although she was not a witness to the confrontation between George Wickham and the Darcys, she recounted the vivid story her own father had described in details. All were terrified to hear of such occurrences. Mrs. Darcy, in particular, shuddered to think what might have happened to either her husband or her son if Wickham's pistol had not backfired!

"Will!" she exclaimed, her customary placid countenance quite shaken at that moment. "Wickham might have killed you, or our son, or both of you!"

For the first time in her life, she abandoned her firm sense of discretion - she threw her arms convulsively around her husband's neck, and kissed him whilst they stood in the grand foyer of the Bingley townhouse, in the general view of everyone.

"Oh, Lizzy," replied Mr. Darcy with a reassuring kiss of his own as he enfolded her in his warm embrace. "All is well now. I am grateful that neither our son nor Wickham's son allowed my demise! Speaking of Wickham, we stopped at Dr. Dewhurst's surgery on our way home. Wickham's prognosis is rather grim - it is very likely that he will lose his eyesight completely."

Understandably, Mrs. Darcy did not wish to hear of anything that concerned George Wickham at that moment. A man who could plot such foul schemes did not deserve her pity!

"Come now, my darling. The others await us," urged Mr. Darcy as he put a comforting arm around his wife to steady her.

A sudden blush came upon Mrs. Darcy's face as she became cognitive of what she had so boldly done moments ago! Such shocking lack of propriety! Her husband took notice of her acute embarrassment, and quickly reassured her with a tender smile.

"Do not distress yourself, my darling! This is an emotional time for us all. Somehow, I do not believe anyone is unduly alarmed by our overtly demonstrative behaviour!"

She was too shy to answer him, and she took his arm trustingly as they strolled into the elegant drawing room to rejoin their present company. Curious eyes and bemused smiles appeared on everyone's face as they saw the couple's approach - as if they were well pleased with a private matter of much amusement. Mrs. Darcy averted her eyes, and for several minutes, she seemed to find the lace on her embroidered handkerchief quite fascinating.

Indeed, thought Mr. Darcy bemusedly, the way he and his dearest Elizabeth had been flirting with each other - so frequently across the room with such intense looks - they might as well been kissing each other ardently in front of everyone all these years!

Dawn was already breaking, but everyone was too excited to sleep. The night's adventure was being recounted over and over again. Henry Bingley and Anthony Knightley, accompanied by Andrew Fitzwilliam and his parents, arrived home shortly after breakfast. They had been traveling at a furious pace to reach London since they received word of Isabella's disappearance. Their sense of relief at her safe deliverance was enormous. Henry Bingley, in particular, could not rest well until he saw his twin sister with his own eyes. Isabella, however, was fast asleep in her warm bed, and would be likely so for a long while!

Everyone expressed his or her own sense of relief, and added their special prayers of thanksgiving. Indeed, this gathering of families resembled the countless ones they had shared together before - in an atmosphere of mutual affections, happiness and gratitude. The conspicuous absence of James Darcy was noted, but his elder brother Alexander generously observed that James was where he should be - being devotedly close by the side of his beloved Miss Miranda Brandon. Their general talk soon included James Darcy's impending nuptials at Delaford's parish church; excited talk of that particular wedding led to eager thoughts of another Darcy wedding yet to be announced!

In the midst of such celebratory mood, Lady Fitzwilliam surprised everyone by declaring that she had an incredible tale of folly and misadventure to share - it was an episode from her youth that her dearest brother Fitzwilliam Darcy had steadfastly refused to divulge to the world because of his promise to protect her innocence and reputation. A look of alarm came into Mr. Darcy's eyes - his instinctive concern for his sister Georgiana was well evident. Leaning against the sturdy arm of her husband Sir James Fitzwilliam, Georgiana smiled determinedly and proceeded with her story, with the preface that it was prudent to be honest, and everyone would be better served if the entire truth was made known to everyone at all. She also declared that she would seek an opportunity to speak with the Wickham children as well.

Except for the few who were already privy to George Wickham's true history, everyone else was stupefied by Lady Fitzwilliam's revelations. Mr. Darcy berated himself for not having the foresight to see that George Wickham could hatch such a nefarious scheme against his own nieces, but his remorse was met with strong protests from his relations. Who could have predicted the feverish mind of an embittered, drunken scoundrel of the worst kind? Another round of earnest discussion ensured - honest and outspoken as such talks inevitably were. Each member of these families held all others in such esteem and tender affections, and each were comfortable to speak his or her own mind.

In the midst of such excited talks, Mr. Bingley reached for his dear wife's hand. Their eyes met - matching eyes of brilliant blue - and both knew instinctively that their marriage had taken a new turn. Mr. Bingley had witnessed how his wife had stood firm in the face of such a horrible ordeal - and finally realized that she was of far stronger character and nerves that he had surmised her to be.

He drew her aside to make his quiet confession privately.

"My dearest Jane, I finally comprehend what Darcy and Elizabeth have been urging me to do these many years!"

"What have my dear sister and her beloved Darcy been urging you?"

"To have a more open understanding with one's wife - not to have fears of disturbing her tranquility of mind. . . Heated words of disagreements can be made to serve rather useful purposes in the end . . . An honest and complete reconciliation always builds stronger friendship. . . Sage words of advice."

Jane smiled placidly at her husband - she knew well what the Darcys had been advising Bingley to do, but her Charles had always been exceedingly protective of her - too much perhaps - but she was glad of this realization at long last.

"So you will speak your mind to me entirely from now on - without riding over to the Darcys at every turn? And I no longer need to inquiry from them matters that you are too apprehensive to trouble me with?"

Mr. Bingley was stupefied to realize that his sweetest Jane knew the entire truth these many years.

"Forgive me, my love," he murmured contritely.

His wife beamed him the most radiant smile, her utter devotion to him was well evident. "There is nothing to forgive! Charles, you need not apologize for the prodigious care and tender consideration you have always given me! I do look forward to, however, a rare word of disagreement between us. If my dearest sister Lizzy is to be trusted, I believe that the standard penance for reconciliation will be one love sonnet!"

Mr. Bingley's bright blue eyes shone with merriment at such words. "I might have to ride over to seek help from Darcy after all - for his literary talents - he is indeed a man well-versed in words of four or five syllables!"

This intimate chat of the Bingleys was momentarily interrupted when the Darcys and the Fitzwilliams stood to leave their leave. It had been a very long night, and their own comfortable beds beckoned!

Alexander Darcy, however, was impatient to seek a private interview with his Uncle Charles. The latter saw the look on his nephew's face, and knew instantly the nature of their intended talk. He could easily recall his own interview with Mr. Bennet that fateful autumn day at Longbourn, and he knew that the young man could not suffer until the next day.

"Come to my study, Alexander. We can have a hearty chat there without interruption."

"Yes, sir!" said Alexander as he leapt eagerly to his feet. He glanced at his parents and sisters, and saw his father's warm smile of encouragement. He was grateful that Isabella had changed her mind about "being on the shelf!"

As he walked passed Sir James Fitzwilliam, he received a fatherly pat on his shoulder.

"Fear not, Alexander," muttered Sir James with a jovial smile. "If I could brave your formidable father to beg for the hand of my fair Georgiana, you should fare far better with your amiable Uncle Charles!"

The very moment after they stepped into their bedchamber and shut the door firmly behind them, she wrapped her arms around him, and showered kisses upon his beloved face.

He laughed, wholeheartedly and joyfully. He was rather surprised by her unrestrained display of emotions, but was delighted by the promise such ardent kisses held.

"Oh, my darling," he whispered against her hair, inhaling her delicate and pleasing fragrance of lemon, verbena and rose water. "Is this how you would have continued to kiss me earlier if we did not stand under such public scrutiny?"

She did not speak, but answered him with more kisses instead.

He laughed again as he scooped her up in his strong arms, and carried her over to the bed. Within the safe haven of his arms, she finally heaved a sigh of relief. The living nightmare since yesterday afternoon was finally over! She nestled comfortably against him, rested her head upon the hollow of his shoulder, listened to the steady thumps of his heart, and closed her eyes contently. It mattered not that it was already past dawn, and the birds were chirping outside. She was tired beyond measure, and needed to sleep.

"Sweet dreams, Lizzy," said Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy to his wife as he caressed her face, and kissed her tenderly.

"Oh, Will! I love you so dearly!" came the whispered response from Mrs. Darcy. She bestirred herself to utter an urgent plead before she allowed sleep to overcome her. "Promise me that you will not put yourself in harm's way again!"

"Why ever not? Especially when you welcome me home with such a wonderful reception!" He asked teasingly; his close brush with death seemed to have rendered an unusual feeling of lightheartedness in him, as if he now wished to savour life's every moment with appreciative relish. He repeated his jest, "I have kept myself in such excellent physical state throughout these years - what Sir James so fondly refers to as 'fighting trim condition'. I can still thrust and parry with our sons, and can still best them at fencing. I was much tempted to hit Wickham senseless, but his severe injury saved him from my wrath. If he ever recovers fully, I shall have a go at him!"

Her weary eyes flew open, her ears could not quite believe his jaunty words. Her serious, steadfast and brooding husband speaking in such mirthful spirit over a vital matter? Surely, it was too important to make sport of it!

"Don't tease!" She pleaded earnestly.

He gathered her closer to him, and proceeded to kiss away the worried frown upon her brow.

"As you wish, my darling Lizzy," he vowed, solemn at last. He kissed her to seal his promise, and added that it was imperative for him to behave in the most dignified manner. "If we are so blessed, either one or both of our sons would make us grandparents in a year or so!"

She gazed at him for a moment longer, caressed the graying hair of his temple, and traced a finger along his bold jaw line. He always looked so proper and dignified, but she found his unshaven chin and slightly unkempt appearance made him looked more handsome and youthful. She remarked as much to him, and he merely laughed and remarked that it was past her hour for sleep.

Mrs. Darcy sighed contently, and dozed off in his arms.

Mr. Darcy kept vigil over her for several moments longer - offering his grateful prayers for all the blessings of life - before he allowed sleep to overtake him as well.

Chapter 30: Small but Significant Words

Posted on Thursday, 6 January 2005

Alexander Darcy was in an agitated state. The incredible joy of being accepted by Isabella had prevented him from paying due attention to other important matters. Now, as he approached the magistrate's office in the company of his own father and Mr. Bingley, he suddenly realized that George Wickham might escape punishment for his crimes. His father had voiced such a request to Captain Greenwood last night, but the significance of it did not strike him until this very moment.

"Not press charges against Wickham? With due respect to you, sir, I must protest most vehemently against your decision!" exclaimed Alexander to Mr. Bingley. "The evils George Wickham would have done to Isabella, and the lives he would have wrecked if his despicable plan had succeeded! He even tried to kill my father! He should be brought to trial, and be tried to the fullest extent of Her Majesty's laws. Uncle Charles, I can understand that you do not wish to see Wickham hang from the gallows, but he should be locked away in a jail cell for the rest of his miserable life!"

"Wickham might not survive his wounds," remarked Mr. Darcy quietly.

"My point of argument, Father, is for justice to be done! I do not wish for his demise unless it is God's will."

"I fully comprehend your objections, Alexander," replied Mr. Darcy as he extended his hand to draw his son closer to his side. "As a law-abiding citizen, I find taking any liberties with Her Majesty's laws objectionable. We must, however, consider the extenuating circumstances of our present situation. The vital question to be considered is: 'what price justice?' If Wickham is brought to trial, Isabella will have to testify against him in court. She will have to suffer the scrutiny of a curious public and the idle talk of the ton. The consequences of a criminal trial may be more harmful to Isabella than to Wickham."

Mr. Bingley interjected his own reasoning as well. "If Wickham had not suffered such dreadful injuries, we would certainly pursue the most vigorous persecution against him! As the matter now stands, I believe more than justice itself has been done to punish Wickham."

"Yes, indeed," nodded Mr. Darcy thoughtfully. "When one consider the providence of the flintlock pistol that had backfired upon Wickham. In his madness, Wickham had pleaded for mercy in my late father's name. . ."

"You are too generous, Father," remarked Alexander with a rueful shake of his head. "I do not believe George Wickham suffers from any bouts of madness! He is faithless, selfish, malicious and calculating - the worst of men. He knew well how you would respond to your esteemed father's memory, and he played his trump card in his most desperate moment!"

"You may be completely right in your austere assessment, my dear son," conceded Mr. Darcy with a smile, "but you cannot fault the logical reasoning behind your Uncle Charles's decision."

Alexander frowned deeply, but he could not argue against the paramount need to protect the innocent against the gossip-mongers of the ton. He himself did not care a farthing about the whims of Society, but he knew that idle talk could be vicious at times. A purely speculative but insinuating remark could gain such credence that it could be accepted as the gospel truth. He was well aware that honourable reputations had been made to suffer irredeemable infamy. . .

"Come now, my son," said Mr. Bingley with a fatherly pat on Alexander's back. "Let's us endeavour to bring this unpleasant matter to a satisfactory end. Indeed, the sooner, the better! We can then hurry back to our families, and make plans for your grand wedding!"

The fragrant scent of roses tantalized Isabella Bingley's senses before she was fully awake. Her eyes remained closed, and she yawned lazily in the luxurious comfort of her own bed. She had such an idyllic dream - of lush green meadows, warm summer sun, and being in the arms of her beloved Alexander!

"Good afternoon, sleepy one!" Her younger sister Emily greeted her with a spirited laugh, "Rise and shine!"

"I must have slept for hours!" exclaimed Isabella.

"You needed your beauty sleep," said Emily. "It is, however, almost five in the afternoon." She then gestured to the few dozen of gorgeous red roses in the bedchamber, and declared, "I love you dearly, Bella, but it is unfair that your ardent admirer should buy out all the roses in London so that he can lay them at your dainty feet to show his profound admiration for you! My own suitors have yet to send me a single bouquet today!"

"Oh, Emily, you do exaggerate! I am sure the florists in London are not sold out of roses!"

"These five dozens are but a sample of the flowers you have received today! There are dozens more in the drawing room. Nineteen dozens in total! We hardly have room to put them all! The deliveries started at around noon - two or three dozens at a time - from different florists but all sent by the same gentleman! He must have had a difficult time getting so many roses on the same day!"

"Oh, I must ask Papa to speak to Lord Braunfield, and insist that he stops all this nonsense!" declared Isabella as she got out of her bed quickly.

"Lord Braunfield?" repeated Emily in puzzlement, forgetting that Isabella was entirely unaware that their cousin Lord Braunfield had been the prime suspect of her abduction.

"Yes! Do you recall that William sent me a dozen roses every day for two weeks after I turned down his marriage proposal? I can see that he has gone quite mad this time. Nineteen dozens in total?" Isabella asked incredulously.

"These flowers are definitely not from our haughty cousin William," declared Emily as she proceeded to explain to Isabella how they had first suspected Lord Braunfield as the culprit responsible for her disappearance!

"We all presumed that William might have carried you off by force because he could not win Papa's consent for the marriage. Uncle Fitzwilliam and Alexander went directly to Paxton Hall to seek him out, but the louse was not there. Indeed, Lord Paxton presumed that his son had gone to Paris, and your darling Alexander almost dashed after him! Freddie Wickham arrived in the nick of time, with vital news of your whereabouts!"

"Oh!" was all Isabella could say upon hearing of this.

"Anyhow, Lord Braunfield will not be sending roses to any lady for a while," declared Emily.

"Why ever not?" asked Isabella with natural feminine curiosity.

"Our cousin William was so upset when he stormed out of his futile interview with Papa that he finally made a rendezvous with a lady who bore a striking resemblance to you. This particular lady, it seemed, was not a widow as his lordship had erroneously surmised her to be! Her very jealous husband showed up at the rendezvous point, and promptly shot Lord Braunfield! The incident happened very late last night, but it is the talk of the ton already!"

"Is our cousin William . . ."

"Dead?" Emily completed her sister's question with a shake of her golden head. "No. Luckily for our cousin, Sir David was heavily inebriated so he missed his death mark! William is, however, badly injured in the shoulder and knee. Papa has already visited him - William will live, but he will have a long period of quiet recuperation!"

"Perhaps William might take up reading to improve his mind," remarked Isabella kindly. She did not enjoy the sufferings of others - even those who had been obnoxious and unkind to her.

"Whoever the sender is. . ." remarked Emily as she gestured towards the bouquets, "I believe the man has gone quite mad - he has actually sent you 229 roses, perfectly trimmed and devoid of thorns. I have counted them carefully - nineteen dozens plus one extra! Very odd, indeed! I do not think it is a florist mistaken! It is evident proof that the sender has fallen madly in love with you!"

"I wonder who?" said Isabella impatiently. "This ostentatious display is not in the disciplined nature of Alexander Darcy! A single perfect rose, neatly trimmed by his own hand, is more in his character! He cannot be the sender!"

"Take this!" urged Emily as she took pity on her agitated sister, and handed her a small linen envelope. "It was attached to one of the bouquets. Read it, and find out his name! Everyone else in the household is dying to know!"

Isabella tore the envelope open eagerly, and saw a familiar handwriting - bold and clear - and her heart stopped for a fleeting moment before it beat in such rapid cadence again.

My dearest and most beautiful Isabella,

How long have I truly loved thee? Let me count the days!

Please accept these roses - 229 of them - each flower to signify each of the days since that memorable morning when I first realized my abiding love for you.

May there be enough roses in the world for me to send them to you, my wonderful darling, as I have every intention to devote all my days and nights to be close by your side!

Forever yours,

Alexander Darcy

"Well?" asked Emily impatiently, "Who is it?"

"Alexander Darcy!" stated Isabella blushingly, as bewildered as she was pleased. She never expected such a dramatic and extravagant gesture from so serious a young man.

"Good gracious! I thought Alexander already has Papa's blessings! Yet, he behaves as if he is still courting you and still yearning for your approval! Why 229 flowers? What does the number signify, Bella?"

"Good heavens!" exclaimed Isabella. A quick mental calculation had yielded her the exact date - 26th December - the date of their fateful first kiss under the Great Tree at Pemberley!

"Is Alexander here? Is he downstairs?" asked Isabella anxiously as she tried to dress quickly.

"No, not yet! Papa, Uncle Darcy and Alexander are busy with various meetings - especially the one with Captain Greenwood and the Queen's magistrate this afternoon. Let me ring for Lucy - you shall need your maid to help you. You look too agitated for words!"

"Yes, I am!" confessed Isabella.

By the time Isabella came downstairs, she could barely contain her excitement. The impending arrival of Alexander caused such a flutter in her heart. She found her entire family waiting upon her, and her twin brother Henry strode forward to embrace her with a hearty laugh.

"My dear Bella! I am sorry that I was not here for you in your hour of need! Thank God you are safe and well!" He exclaimed earnestly before he added a teasing rejoinder, "So you have done what most of us undoubtedly have wished to do so one time or another - to beat Mr. Wickham over the head with a heavy object!"

Like most of their relations, Henry Bingley had not been privy to the true gravity of George Wickham's past transgressions until last night's full revelation. It was interesting, thought Henry, that all his siblings and cousins had always consciously avoided using the term "Uncle George" when speaking of Mr. Wickham as they had little respect for a man with such profligate habits. Being an uncle in a family carried certain responsibilities and respect, of which Mr. Wickham was entirely lacking.

Isabella shared a laugh over her brother's candid assertion.

"And I must wish you joy!" continued Henry exuberantly. "You are marrying the best of the Darcys!"

"Yes," replied Isabella with a deepening blush. "Alexander is truly wonderful."

"Allow me to add 'Amen' to such praises," declared a deep and familiar voice. They turned to find James Darcy entering the grand foyer with a noticeable limp.

"James!" exclaimed every member of the Bingley family in unison at this unexpected sight of him.

James Darcy greeted everyone in his customary jovial manner. Out of old habit, he nearly seized Isabella into his arms, but he stopped himself in time. He merely reached out to grasp her hands tenderly in his, and said apologetically, "Forgive me for my tardiness in coming to Town, my dear Bella. When the express rider arrived in Delaford with the urgent message from your parents, I was extremely agitated. In my haste to make as speedy a departure as I could, I feared that I applied the whip to my new stallion a bit harsher than I should. The beast showed its great displeasure at me by throwing me off its back."

"Oh, no!" exclaimed Isabella in great concern. "Were you hurt?"

"No," James laughed easily, "I only managed to knock myself silly in the head for a short spell and suffered a minor sprain to my ankle. My pride suffered greater injury instead. Miranda - Miss Brandon - was rendered quite hysterical by my attics!"

"Well, it could feasibly take her years to get used to your thick skull and your irrelevant ways, my dear cousin," teased Henry Bingley as he playfully jabbed James in the forearm. "Allow me to regale you with the amazing tale of my sister's escape. . ."

James, however, had his eyes entirely upon Isabella. "You and my brother are engaged to be married?"

"Yes," she answered blushingly.

"Thank heaven!" exclaimed James earnestly. "I am thrilled that you have taken yourself off the shelf, my dear Bella, for a man truly worthy of you! I wish you both the greatest joy!" He embraced her this time, with genuine brotherly affection, and she did not doubt his sincerity.

The arrival of the Darcy family prompted James to release his cousin from his arms. He knew whose arms Isabella infinitely wished to be in!

Effusive greetings were exchanged by all, with the added congratulatory words for the betrothed couple. Isabella blushed most becomingly, and Alexander beamed with the brightest of smiles.

They proceeded to the drawing room, and the sight of so many dozens of roses throughout the elegant room arrested their immediate attention.

"This is incredible!" exclaimed James, Jane, and Lizzy Darcy in unison. They turned to stare at their brother, not quite believing that a man of succinct words and decisive action would indulge in such an extravagant and dramatic display.

"How many altogether, dear heart?" Mrs. Darcy asked her son with a merry laugh. Alexander was so much like her darling Will! Beneath that silent and often brooding countenance beat the hearts of such kind, thoughtful, and generous nature! It should not surprise her that the son of Fitzwilliam Darcy should think up such a romantic gesture!

Whilst Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy had never sent so many flowers to his beloved wife on a single occasion, he had certainly sent his fair share of flowers throughout the years. Indeed, Mrs. Darcy's mind wandered back to their wedding night, when her new husband had surprised her by reciting a love sonnet of his own composition whilst sprinkling rose petals all over their bedchamber for her - roses in November! That he had obtained the roses from his hot houses, and that he had kept them as a wedding night surprise was truly amazing to her. She turned to look at her husband, and found him gazing upon her with such an intense look. The smallest smile played upon his lips, but she could readily discern that he was recalling the same sweet memory as well.

"229," replied Alexander simply and nonchalantly, without elaboration. His smile, however, told his mother the remainder of his thoughts.

"Oh, you can be so infuriatingly taciturn," complained his sister Lizzy. "You know well that we wish to hear all the details! Especially about your marriage proposal!"

"Yes, indeed!" James chimed in.

"Lizzy! James!" admonished Mrs. Darcy immediately. Her fine eyes, however, held their luster of mirth, betraying her own interest in the matter as well.

"Yes, Mama?" smiled Lizzy contritely over her exuberant manners, "I shall ask Isabella later - in private!"

"And I shall pester Alexander for this epic tale of courtship!" chuckled James. "In his faithful correspondence to me, he had hinted that it started back at Ridgemont!"

A general round of amiable laughter ensured. Alexander instinctively reached out to draw Isabella closer to his side - a protective and loving gesture that did not escape the alert eyes of his parents. The Darcys exchanged a knowing smile betwixt themselves, and proceeded to engage the families in earnest talk - discussing at length numerous matters of concerns - ranging from the meetings with the magistrate and Captain Greenwood, Mr. Dewhurst's grim prognosis of Wickham's condition, the likelihood of Wickham's confinement to St. Bartholomew's Hospital, to wedding preparations, and other sundry matters. The affianced couple took advantage of the situation, and drifted off to the far corner of the drawing room to speak to each other privately. They were of adequate distance from present company to ensure that no one could hear their conversation, but as such, they remained in the general view of everyone.

Of course, if the truth could be admitted, Alexander would prefer to be alone with Isabella. He longed to take her into his arms, and to whisper words of endearment without impediment! Nevertheless, he trusted the wisdom of having chaperones. The few passionate kisses they had shared thus far had taunted his iron will. He was acutely aware of how each look and touch that passed between them had grown more intimate and exhilarating. . .

They sat together on a luxurious sofa, in comfortable harmony. He took her hand in his, and was prepared to be happy. He cared not what they would speak about, as long as she was close by his side. He had slept little since leaving her to the tender care of her family, but he did not feel any fatigue. Now, seeing the unmistakable look of love upon her precious face, he felt completely revitalized. Presently, he took a brief moment to examine the minor cuts on her hands, and was relived to see that they were healing already, without any signs of infection.

Wordlessly, he took a ring out of his pocket - a beautiful, flawless diamond solitarily set in an exquisite band of gold and silver - and he slid it onto her finger. It fitted her perfectly.

"It is magnificent! Thank you so much," she said breathlessly, impressed not only by the fiery sparkle and the size of the gem, but by the exquisite craftsmanship that created such a ring.

He smiled, glad that she was pleased with his gift. "It is a family heirloom - and it is now a token of our pledge to each other," he explained. "With your father's blessings and this ring, we are truly engaged!"

"I can scarcely believe our present happiness!"

"I am half-inclined to believe that this is a fantastically dream as well!" He chuckled softly as he admired the ring upon her dainty hand. "When we were at Ridgemont, I had tried but failed so miserably in articulating the proper words to court you! I had suppressed my true emotions for so long. . ."

"Oh, Alexander," she whispered to him as she leaned against him ever so discreetly, "229 days since you first realized that you loved me! That would have been the very day when we kissed under the Great Tree! Why did you not declare your true feelings for me then?"

"I wanted to, my darling, but you simply took my breath away when your response was so . . . well, so intoxicating. My mind and heart were in such a tumultuous state that I could do nothing but hold you close in my arms afterwards! I could not speak at all!"

"Nor could I," confessed her blushingly, "As I have never been kissed in such a manner or responded in kind!"

"Nor have I . . . I mean I have kissed before, but never in such a way as I kissed you, my dearest Isabella," he whispered his own confession with such candor.

"Never ever?" Upon hearing his words, she could not resist teasing him. "A very handsome and wealthy young man who has lived in the world? No wild flirting with beautiful French ladies? No midnight rendezvous with alluring Italian countesses?"

"No! Furthermore, there were neither fleeing liaisons with comely barmaids in Cambridge nor ravishing mistresses in Town," he replied with an endearing smile, holding her bright gaze with complete honesty. He took a deep breath, and continued, "I must admit that I had been tempted - on numerous occasions - out of natural curiosity and more bestial male instincts. However, I indulged in nothing more than a few kisses and furtive caresses. I never succumbed completely to the charms of the willing and alluring women who did cross my path: my own conscience and moral conviction would not allow it. Being a constant witness to the abiding love and complete devotion of my parents also shaped my iron discipline - I have long believed that being physical intimate with someone required the exposure of one's soul as well, and I could not fathom doing so unless it was with my own wife."

She was in complete amazement at his candid confession. She grasped his hand tighter, and whispered, "Oh, my darling!"

"Perhaps, I already knew," he said with an embarrassed smile as he gazed at their entwined fingers for a long moment before he looked at her again, "in the deepest recess of my heart, that I should realize my love for you someday."

He then confessed how he had secretly taken the oath before the holy altar, pledging to forsake all others, and keeping himself solely unto her. He also confessed to her his avowed resolution to marry her regardless of the circumstances or consequences he might find her in when he rescued her from her abductors. He related his conversation with his father in verbatim, and felt a fleeting moment of anguish when he recalled how desperate he had felt!

Isabella was too emotional to speak for several minutes. She had not dare to hope that her deep love for him would be requited with such completeness, yet the reality of it was so apparent to her now.

Finally, she spoke. "You would have forfeited your birthright to marry a fallen woman?" It seemed too incredulous to be true.

"Not any mere woman," he smiled tenderly as he lifted her hand to bestow a lingering kiss upon it. "I wish to marry you - only you, my precious Isabella. If you had been compromised, it would not have been through your fault! To me, your virtue and honour would still be as pure and unblemished as the freshest snow!"

Overwhelmed by the memory of her narrow escape from a fate worse than death, they both fell silent. He began to stroke the back of her hand with the gentlest caresses, at once comforting and exhilarating, and she soon regained her composure. The conversation that followed harked back to the earliest days of their initial misunderstanding.

"I had been so foolish to believe your callous words when I confronted you about our kiss! I had thought you to be an utter cad at one point! I was half convinced that you had kissed every pretty woman you encountered during your stay in Italy and France!"

"I allowed you to believe the worst of me so that you would keep your distance from me. I had hoped that any affection you might have for me would die any early death!"

"You lied to me so that you could secure your brother's happiness? You would sacrifice our own happiness in such a cavalier manner?"

"At that time, the only sacrifice was meant to be mine alone, my love. Your happiness was my foremost concern, and I had believed that your future was with my brother James. I always have great abhorrence for falsehood of any kind, and yet, I did lie to you."

"You were wrong to act against your own heart and conscience!"

"Well, I thought I had made the right decision under very tying circumstances, and I acted accordingly."

"You did not trust me enough for me to confess the truth, and to allow me to make my own decisions?"

"It was not a matter of trust, my darling. It was out of grave concern that I would only hurt you more, and would cause you more anguish if you felt trapped by my declaration of love. It became very obvious to me that you did not reciprocate my ardent feelings at that time. And you were very distressed by how James and I fought over you!"

"Yes, indeed, I was not in love with you then," she confessed quietly, "and I am very sorry for it."

"Not sorrier than I was," replied Alexander in full contrition as he lifted her hand to place it against his clean-shaven cheek. "If our mutual declaration of love had been done earlier, you would have been married to me already! We would have avoided the horrid nightmare you lived through at the hands of the Wickhams!"

"Uncle Wickham would have plotted his nefarious plan regardless - and your sister Lizzy would have been kidnapped. I am glad that I suffered in her place instead!"

He kissed her hand again, and held it against his heart for a moment. He shuddered to imagine the alternatives. She suggested his mother's sage advice on painful memories: "Think only of remembrances that give you pleasure!"

He laughed in full agreement, and added, "I promise that I shall never lie to you again. My parents are firm advocates for complete honesty and trust between husband and wife. I think it is the best advice. We shall always be each other's best friend and confidant."

"And never go to bed being angry with each other?" she asked blushingly, as she realized too late that she was making references to an intimacy that they had yet to experience until they were married.

He laughed softly, "I cannot imagine being angry with you then, my darling!"

She blushed deeper, but added, "I must warn you that I do have a temper - quite fierce at times!"

"Yes, I know - I had been the recipient of your withering looks!"

"How do I beg for your forgiveness - such violent disapproval of you whilst you loved me in silence and suffered so severely for it?"

"I deserved your censure. And, in the future, if your angry is ever aroused, I am certain it will be fully justified," he remarked placidly. He concluded by making yet another surprising declaration.

"My darling Isabella, we are officially engaged, and I cannot be a happier man! I realize, however, that I proposed to you under very stressful conditions, and did not allow you any time to consider my proposal properly and . . ."

"Do you want to cry it off?" she said, half-jokingly and half-seriously. She did not know what to make of his words! She was almost afraid to hear his explanation.

"No, no, no! I love you so utterly and completely. I have no fonder wish than to be your devoted husband!" He declared his true sentiments most earnestly. "But, my darling, I know that you have many grand plans and aspirations. I simply want to reassure you that I cherish you so dearly that I am willing to accommodate your every wish and whim. I shall wait patiently for you if you should wish to delay our wedding."

"Your mother once told me that aspirations for independence and personal achievements are worthy goals, but in the end, it is our hearts - our love for the important people in our lives - that give us true meaning in life. I love you, Alexander Darcy! Being your wife - sharing my life with you - is my fondest wish as well! I want to marry you as soon as we can arrange it," she said with infinite tenderness. "Will you comply?"

"Oh, my dearest one," he murmured with humble gratitude, his heart overflowing with love, and his throat too constricted to speak another word. He did not trust himself to kiss her, for he knew he would not be able to stop his ardour. They were, after all, in the full company of their respective families!

She felt the same powerful surge of emotions within her heart, and understood what true love and happiness really meant as she looked deeply into his dark eyes - she saw her better self in him, and knew that her entire future was intrinsically tied to his.

"We patiently await the pleasure of your company to dine with us," said Henry Bingley as he approached them.

Apparently, neither Alexander nor Isabella heard the butler's earlier announcement. They shared an embarrassed laugh. They were still holding each other's hand as they rose to join their families.

Henry had the good manners to avert his eyes at first, but quickly decided that such obvious happiness before him should be looked upon with open admiration. He beamed at his twin sister and at the man was would soon be his brother.

"I know today has been very hectic for you, Alexander, but have you obtained the special license from the Archbishop?" asked Henry with a bright smile.

Alexander chuckled softly, "Yes! The special license is already in my pocket - but I fear that I cannot carry your sister off tonight! Your father has already named the 12th of September as our wedding date."

"Ah, marry in September's shine, and your living will be rich and fine!" quoted Henry Bingley with a jovial laugh. "As you see, I am well versed with the matchmaking rules and prerogatives!"

They shared a hearty laugh, and Alexander added, "I believe that my darling Isabella wishes to be married in the same manner as her sister Margaret - surrounded by beloved family and friends in her own parish church. I know that she frowns upon hasty elopement - as I had suggested it once before, when we spent that entire night talking to each other at Bittle's Inn in Ridgemont."

"Zounds, my dear sister! Do you wish to wait four weeks to arrange for a grand wedding?" He shook his golden head in merriment and added, "Bella, wilt thou truly wish to take this man for thy wedded husband in front of such a huge congregation?"

"I do," smiled Isabella brightly, gazing at her fiancé. At that moment, Alexander Fitzwilliam Darcy became the only significant force present in Isabella Elizabeth Bingley's eyes. Everyone else in the drawing room had faded away from her consciousness.

Her fiancé, upon hearing those two small but vitally important words, swallowed a deep breath. He looked upon her beautiful face and marveled at the incredible reality of her love for him. What blissful hopes such words inspired!

"And you, my dear cousin, who prefers to hide behind potted palm trees at large gatherings, likewise intend to endure the close scrutiny of a mob crowd outside the church as well?"

Alexander nodded with an easy chuckle. Henry Bingley's fine blue eyes sparkled with mirthfulness as he added teasingly, "Then, wilt thou wish to take this woman for thy wedded wife?" Although Henry was not vested with any power by the Church to perform any sanctified ceremony, he suddenly realized that the two people before him had taken this moment of levity to mean something very privately significant indeed!

Alexander felt as if a chorus of angels had gathered to witness this moment. He turned to Isabella, with perfect happiness diffused upon his handsome face, pledged his heart to her most solemnly, "I do!"

Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy strolled across the bedchamber to the dressing table, and waited for his wife whilst she put the finishing touches of her toilette. It was already a very late hour - as she had stayed up to play and sing a couple of arias for him - and her maid had already been dismissed for the night. He stood behind her, watched her silently as she drew out the sliver pins that held her braided hair in place. She undid the plaids with her graceful fingers before she combed her hair. He waited for a few moments before he took the ivory-backed hairbrush gently from her hand, and proceeded to comb her hair with rhythmic strokes. He liked the feel of her thick luscious hair against his fingers, and he had enjoyed the intimacy of such quiet moments since their first night together.

Mrs. Darcy did not turn her head, but looked directly into the large, gilded mirror in front of her. She allowed herself the luxury of admiring her husband's handsome reflection whilst being pampered by him. They did not speak, for there was no need for words. She caught his eyes in the reflected image of him, and smiled.

"You are becoming rather skilful in this particular task, my dear Mr. Darcy," she teased him sweetly.

"As I should be, my dear Mrs. Darcy," he replied with a mirthful gleam in his dark eyes. "As your devoted husband, I have such myriad of duties - but I always pride myself of being diligent and resourceful."

He paused to give her a tender kiss at the nape of her neck before he resumed his self-appointed task. He was truly proficient, and her long, dark hair shone with shimmering luster.

She turned around to face him at last, a radiant smile upon her lovely face. "Will, I cannot tell you how happy I felt when I saw our son holding Isabella's hand and looking so blissfully proud!"

"Alexander deserves all the blessings," remarked Mr. Darcy. "I am pleased beyond words that he has someone so wonderful to share his life with: to lighten his burdens and to share his joys. They are exceedingly well-matched in character and temperament. I can vouchsafe to declare that their connubial happiness may well equal our own!"

Mrs. Darcy nodded in thoughtful agreement to her husband's assertion. "You are never wrong!"

"No, not never wrong!" He smiled humbly, "But I do make it a habit to avoid making grievous mistakes in my judgment." He reached down to pull his wife into his arms, and enfolded her entirely in his warm embrace. "Oh, Lizzy!" He murmured gratefully as he bestowed a lingering kiss upon her sweet lips, and exclaimed, "I fear that your load of burdens have increased a hundredfold since you became my wife, whilst my vast burdens have been lightened so considerably with you as my most capable, intelligent and steadfast partner in life! Not a very equitable situation at all!"

"I do not feel it as being so," replied Mrs. Darcy sincerely. "The burdens of being the Mistress of Pemberley can be quite daunting at times, but never overwhelming. You have always taken such prodigious care of me and our family! Because of your love - our love - I am happy beyond measure, my darling!"

"Have I told you lately how much I do love you, my dearest and loveliest Lizzy?"

She laughed flirtatiously as she caressed his handsome face, noting that his hair was still damp from his bath. "Not since this morning!"

"Indeed!" He smiled before he kissed her again. "How neglectful of me! Name the penance and I shall comply!"

Basking in such spousal love, she laughed as she hugged him closer to her - a clear and melodic sound that symbolized the exulted joy they had found together throughout these many years of blessed matrimony.

"I shall grant you a complete pardon, my dearest Will!"

"Very magnanimous of you, Lizzy! I have, however, thought of a good sonnet already."

"With musical interludes, I pray?"

"Faith, madam, you are a hard taskmaster!" He put up a mock protest, mustering as stern a frown as he could.

"As my praises are rarely bestowed . . ." She parried back wittily, her fine eyes sparkled with such luster as she readily recalled those familiar words from her first visit to Pemberley that fateful summer.

He laughed, as joyfully as she did. He held her gaze, allowing her to see the depth and intensity of his love for her. As he scooped her up into his strong arms, he declared effusively, "They are more worth the earning!"

Continued In Next Section