Page 116 of The Difference of a Darcy
The sound of the latch.
She turned. Too late.
Wickham.
“There you are,” he said. “I have been wondering where you were hiding.”
Elizabeth’s blood ran cold. “Sir, I was only—”
He stepped into the room and shut the door with a deliberate click, his hand twisting the key with a snap. The key vanished into his coat pocket.
“It is amazing, is it not,” he said lazily, his lips curling. “how quickly the threat of fire will clear the corridors.”
Elizabeth backed toward the window, the air suddenly too thick to breathe, though there was no actual smoke.
“What do you want?” she asked, her voice low and tight, then immediately chastised herself.Do not provoke him, Lizzy!
Wickham chuckled. “A moment alone. We have hardly had the pleasure.”
“You are drunk.”
“And you are lovely,” he said, stepping closer. “Even prettier in this light. No need to tremble, little maid. I only want a kiss.”
He reached for her with a swaying step, and the scent of brandy hit her like a wall. “I must say,” he murmured, reaching out as though to touch her cheek, “my wife has been very selfish. Keeping such a pretty thing locked away.”
Elizabeth moved, putting a chair between them. “Do not come any closer.”
“Oh, come now.” His voice dropped. “Your husband is not here to protect you. And I doubt he is half the man you need.”
Her mind raced. The door was blocked. The bell pull was on the far wall.
Her eyes locked on his. “I will scream.”
He laughed. “And bring the house down? Why not? Let everyone know how your heart races when I walk into the room.”
Her hand found the edge of the side table. “You are a coward,” she said, coldly now. “You prey on women because you are too weak to face a real man.”
His eyes darkened. “Careful, darling.”
“I am not your darling.”
She gripped the table. Wickham stepped closer, his hand reaching toward her shoulder—
A sudden sound cut him off.
The crash of wood. A shout. The door behind him burst open with a splintering crack.
“Get away from her!”
Darcy.
∞∞∞
Darcy tore through the corridors toward the front door, the cry of “Fire!” still ringing in his ears. If he stood outside, he might be able to see which room had smoke coming from it.
But the moment the frigid air hit his face, however, he realized something was wrong.
There was no smoke.
