Page 53 of A Quiet Affection
Elizabeth wrenched her arm away and tried to slap him.
The hand went astray and Elizabeth thought it hit his chest rather than his face. “You vicious villain. You disgusting blackguard. You useless wastrel. You immoral, vile rake.”
Elizabeth hurled her hand in his general direction once more, hoping to strike the face.
Wickham grabbed her hand and squeezed it tightly enough that it hurt.
He said in an urbane tone, as though this was not the first time he had been treated to such a tirade by a woman, “And what has prompted this display of affection?”
Her chest was tight. White rage filled Elizabeth.
“In the drawing room! Have you no respect for my sister? Have you no honor? Have you no sense of what you owe your wife?”
Wickham saw no reason to not kiss Elizabeth’s hand as he held it—they were alone, and she could not become more angry at him. He laid wet lips on her knuckles and said, “My dear, I have no notion of what you mean.”
There was no fear yet, just anger. Elizabeth tried to jerk her hands out of Wickham’s grasp. His hold was too firm for her to do so.
“Submit Jones!” Elizabeth said. “Your mistress. The mistress you’ve kept these four years, and who youdefiledyour wife’s house with. Dismiss her. I swear, I will tell everyone. I will make certain that Mr. Darcy knows what sort of creature you are. I—swear that you will not do anything of this sort again. Or—Lord!”
“Oh, I shall just tell Mr. Darcy that you have invented stories because you are in love with me,” Wickham said.
He enjoyed the way that her face was red with rage, and the way that the blind girl vibrated with anger. She was truly enraged.
He decided that now was the best chance, and that in any case there was nothing to be lost by adding this to the tale that she would give to others. He pulled her close as she tried to jerk away from him and forced her lips up so that he could kiss her and hold her body against his.
It was only when she found that she could not jerk her way out of his grasp as he did this that Elizabeth felt any fear. But she suppressed fear with anger. And when she’d jerked her head aside, she told him in a spitting voice, “Let me go, Wicky, or by God, I’ll have my revenge on you.”
“No, no, no. You must wish to know what it is like. That is why you came to me, talking about scandalous things. You want toexperience it. Here in the drawing room, do you not? We will now.”
He forced another kiss on her.
There was a pit in Elizabeth’s stomach. She struggled to shove him aside, but he was too strong, too large. He pulled her deeper into the room.
Elizabeth decided that she would scream the next time she had a chance to take a full breath.
The door to the drawing room suddenly opened. With a shove Wickham pushed her away from him.
Elizabeth stumbled to the ground and fell heavily.
“Miss Elizabeth threw herself upon me,” Wickham said in cheerful sounding tones, “but you must not judge her so harshly.”
A familiar hand pulled Elizabeth to her feet, and in an intent voice, Fitzwilliam asked, “Lizzy, are you well?”
Suddenly she felt wholly safe. She was in fact safe. Elizabeth’s hands started to shake. She could barely stand. “F-f-fitzwilliam.”
“I am here. You are safe.” He put his arm around her. “Do not worry.”
“She came here,” Wickham said, “as soon as she knew that I was alone in the drawing room, and as soon as she had the chance, she tried to kiss me. Poor girl. But I would not let her. And—"
“Silence.” Fitzwilliam’s voice was sharp and commanding, much like Mr. Darcy’s on those rare occasions when he became angry.
Fitzwilliam started to lead Elizabeth out of the room.
Wickham said, “I cannot imagine what sort of man would ever be willing to marry such a woman if they knew about how she has behaved. I certainly would not. I do hope no one has heardanything of what she said or saw how she kissed me. It would be quite a scandal, would it not?”
“Wickham, speak whatever lies you feel a need to,” Fitzwilliam said. “They will not be believed.”
“I never lie. But what I say is likely to be believed. And if not, I—”
