Read Online Unforgiving Temper by Gail Head - Free Book Online Page A

compliments
of the large quantities of wine punch Sir William had served the
night before. He did not need any prying eyes or curious questions
this morning. Dressing quickly, he slipped silently out into the
cool, quiet morning.
    It was an ungodly hour for him, but necessary
if he was to succeed. Moving swiftly through Meryton's deserted
streets, he shook off the last vestiges of sleep; but he could not
shake off the growing desperation brought on by
Lady Catherine's recent communication. “Your failure to
improve the state of my nephew's health as promised is a great
disappointment. I expected more to be done by now. I shall not
recompense a physician who cannot cure. Should you desire my
continued patronage, you will give proof that my nephew is rid of
this malady once and for all, with no chance of it ever
returning.”
    Wickham smiled to himself. Darcy was about to
be cured of his “malady.” There was one last detail to finalize and
his plan would be set. Elizabeth Bennet had slipped through his
fingers last evening; but she would not do so again. Failure at
this point was not an option. Wickham accelerated his pace, eager
to secure his future. He would need to reach Pettigrew's Meadow
before Elizabeth if he was to gain the advantage.
    Approaching the meadow, Wickham slowed his
pace and began scanning the wide glen for his quarry. Lydia had
been more than cooperative in providing information regarding her
sister's habits. He did not know the exact location, but he knew
this meadow was her destination of choice. His gaze swept the wide
expanse several times without finding any sign of her, but he was
not giving up so easily. Selecting a spot that would conceal his
presence while still giving a clear view of the entire meadow, he
settled in the shade of a large split birch and waited.
    * * * *
    Feeling secure from the world, Elizabeth lay
on a soft bed of grass, absently picking at the wildflowers in her
hand. The ominous feeling that had been her companion since
daybreak pressed a crease in her brow. She was stunned at
Mr. Wickham's intimidating conduct exhibited the night before.
Mr. Darcy's account had warned her of Wickham's true nature;
but to experience it first hand was an unsettling experience. She
shuddered involuntarily at the memory of his menacing nearness and
her frown deepened in contemplation.
    Wickham was a man of some intellect, and also
one who needed to make his own way in the world. Were his
intentions toward Lydia honorable? He must know there would be no
fortune in marrying her. Surely he would not trifle with Lydia
knowing she is not without friends; yet. . . she could not bear to
consider the possibility his words had implied.
    At least there was one bright spot in all
this. Her face softened at the thought of Jane and
Mr. Bingley. In spite of all the misery they had suffered, she
was very hopeful they would soon find the happiness they
deserved.
    Sighing wistfully, she laid back with closed
eyes, soaking in the warmth of the morning sun and wishing for the
carefree days of her childhood. The past twelve-month had turned
her life into a hopelessly complicated muddle. If only she had not
overheard Mr. Darcy's careless remark to Mr. Bingley at
the assembly, or had she been less swayed by Mr. Wickham's
charms and good looks, or perhaps been more willing to acknowledge
Mr. Darcy's attempts at civility when he danced with her at
the Netherfield ball. There was any number of seemingly
insignificant instances where the slightest change would have made
the present so very different. What a fool she had been!
    Re-examining the impromptu bouquet she had
gathered on her walk, she inhaled deeply, allowing the fragrant
blooms to dispel the melancholy that had crept into her thoughts.
She could not do anything about the past; but she could do
something about the present. She could prevent Mr. Wickham
from destroying Lydia's reputation and that of the entire
family.
    Rising slowly, Elizabeth brushed at