“He be growin’ stronger every day, Mistress.”

“I am pleased to hear it.” Elizabeth tightened the bandage to hold it in place.

Darcy cleared his throat, bringing the man’s attention back to his story. Jatson blushed and continued.“Anyways, I be noticin’ an eerie feeling, and then I sees it—a shadow person standin’ behind me.”

Darcy frowned.“How could you see someone behind you?” He purposely ignored the reference to a shadow man. He would give no credence to the superstition.

“I be seein’ the man’s silhouette on the floor next to mine.Then he raises a sword above his head. I couldn’t move at first, but the sword skeered me, so I’s turned. I’s knocked the sword aways ’fore he be cuttin’ off’n me head with it, but it cuts me arm instead.”

Darcy asked anxiously, “Did you see the man’s face?”

“I sees it, Mr. Darcy, right’n before he’s hittin’ me head.”

Darcy leaned closer, praying there was some logical clue. “Can you describe the man? Did you recognize him?”

“He be lookin’ like what ye already be knowin’. I’s don’t suspect I kin tell ye anything new.” Darcy looked away in frustration. Jatson noted his employer’s disappointment. “But I’s kin tell ye I’s seen him before, Mr. Darcy.”

Darcy’s head snapped around in anticipation. “Where? Where have you seen the man before?”

Jatson dropped his eyes.“I kin’t be sayin’ for sure, but I sees him recently, sir. Maybe I’s kin study on it a bit.”

“I would appreciate anything you can remember, Mr. St. Denis.” Darcy began to move away from the bed. “I see Mrs. Reynolds has prepared some medicine to help you rest. Mrs. Darcy and I will leave you to mend.” He reached for Elizabeth’s hand. “Mrs. Reynolds, you will let me know if Mr. St. Denis needs anything else.”

“Yes, Mr. Darcy.” She spooned the laudanum into Jatson’s mouth. “In the morning, I will send Lucas to let Dorothea know why Jatson does not return home. I do not want her to bring the babe out in the cold when we are capable of taking care of her husband here.”

“That is most thoughtful, Mrs. Reynolds,” Elizabeth said as she returned to Darcy’s side. “We will see you in the morning.”

“Yes, Mrs. Darcy.”

Silently, they returned to their shared chambers and remained silent as they prepared for bed a second time. Darcy stoked the fire and straightened the bed linens as Elizabeth released the loose braid of her hair. Finally, they crawled in bed, burrowing under the blankets, seeking warmth. Only when Darcy released the drapery from its tie-back did they venture to voice their thoughts. “We were so close, Elizabeth.” She rested her head on his shoulder while Darcy aimlessly stroked her arm. “I do not know what else to do. I feel that I cannot ensure Pemberley’s safety,” he confessed in a whisper.

Elizabeth knew Darcy’s admittance came with great difficulty. “We are just overlooking something obvious,” she assured him. “Have we any enemies—anyone displeased with the way we have dealt with them of late?”

“There is always someone.” Darcy rolled on his side, so he might look upon her face.“Yet, even though a merchant might complain, the anger is not enough to commit murder.” He caught her hand and brought it to his chest, pressing it to his heart. “Our intruder has likely taken one life—Lawson’s—and he tried to end Jatson’s this evening. I have known men to take revenge for a supposed wrongdoing, but I have never known such evil. It is beyond my way of thinking.Who sets out to murder another?”

“A madman.”

The impact of her words struck them both dumb for several moments. “How do we fight a madman?”

“More aggressively than we have done so to date. We need to make it harder for him to find food…to find a place to sleep. We must flush our phantom out. Right now, we are reacting to his appearances—to his attacks. We need to be the pursuers, rather than the pursued.”

Darcy did not respond right away, taking time to reflect on what she had proposed. “What else might we do?”

“We need for Mrs. Jennings to take stock of the supplies in the pantries.We need to block off entrances to the root cellar and cold cellar. I refuse to fill the stomach that wreaks havoc in my household.” Her chin rose in defiance.

Darcy took note of her declaration that this was her household. It was what he had always wanted—a woman with the same devotion to Pemberley as he. Elizabeth had made the place her own, and even though she had ordered only subtle changes in the décor, she filled Pemberley’s walls with her personality. Since the day he had first walked her up the front steps and into the main foyer, the place carried her mark. She possessed him as much as she did his home. “I will see to it first thing in the morning,” Darcy agreed. “Have you other suggestions?”

“We need a pattern of where our intruder has been seen. The east wing is obvious, but which rooms?” Elizabeth knitted her brow. “He was in Georgiana’s room. That disturbs me…She may be in danger.”

Darcy stiffened with the thought of his sister’s possible peril. “You believe Georgiana did not have a nightmare?”

“At first, I took much of what she said as nerves, but I felt the cold air rushing through her room, Fitzwilliam. Yes, I believe the light she saw was our ghost.”

“She needs someone else sleeping in her room. I will assign two maids to sleep on pallets until we find this man, and Georgiana is not to pay midnight visits to the music room.You and I must insist on it.”

“Of course.” Elizabeth bit her bottom lip, indicating she had other ideas. Finally, she found her voice. “I know you well enough, my Husband, to know that you have made the connection.We had no problems at Pemberley until we opened our doors to strangers.”

Darcy looked relieved. He had drawn similar conclusions the preceding evening. “I have considered,” he began slowly, “that one of our guests could be our practitioner—he is one of them. Yet, our so-called madman is just that—a man. I cannot give merit to the belief that either Lord Stafford or Mr. Worth creates such chaos. I do not know His Lordship well, but the worst that is said is he is an immature young man, overly fond of his own pleasures. But I also know he treats his servants well, and he contributes regularly to several charities. He does not have the nature of a murderer.”

“And Mr.Worth?” Elizabeth prompted.

“I met Worth several years ago when I settled Mr. Wickham’s numerous debts in Cheshire.” Darcy paused, choosing his words carefully.

“What is it, Fitzwilliam? You must tell me what you know.”

Darcy lovingly caressed her cheek and brushed the hair from Elizabeth’s face before he spoke. “Mr. Worth was returning from Newcastle, where a colleague had summoned him. It was purely by happenstance that he traveled in the same coach as Mrs. Wickham. Your sister’s husband has accumulated additional debt. Much more debt than I can assume without borrowing from Georgiana’s dowry or jeopardizing our child’s inheritance. I will do neither to save the man. Plus,Worth also reports that Mr.Wickham’s adultery and his physical abuse of Mrs.Wickham are now common knowledge among those stationed at Newcastle. We cannot disassociate ourselves from your family, but we must find a way to minimize their impact on us—for Georgiana’s sake.”

Elizabeth swallowed hard, fighting back the tears flooding her eyes. Her shame when she had shared with Darcy the news of Lydia’s elopement returned. Her husband had acted honorably, saving her and the rest of her sisters from public humiliation. Her husband had done it all without taking credit and without her knowledge—because it required an explanation that would rob her Uncle Gardiner of his borrowed feathers and give the praise where it was due and because Darcy loved her more than even she had realized at the time. Her aunt and uncle had given way to Darcy because they had given him credit for another interest in the affair—her heart, which he owned completely. “Oh, Fitzwilliam,” she moaned, “My family and I cannot repay you for how you saved our reputation.”

“I told you before. Your family owes me nothing. Much as I respect them, I thought only of you at the time. And you owe me nothing. I think only of you still. I love you with all that I am. I will love you with every ounce of my being until my last breath. And I will love you beyond that.”

“I do not deserve you.”

“Let us not dwell on these issues, Elizabeth,” he declared as he rolled her to her back and covered her body with his. “Tomorrow…” he murmured close to her lips. “Tomorrow we will deal with our problems.Tonight…tonight, I wish only to show the woman I love how very perfect I find her.” He claimed her mouth, deepening the kiss and losing himself in her passion.


Lydia Wickham spent another restless night at Pemberley. Her sister’s pure happiness made her own marriage seem that much worse. Elizabeth had chosen the most disagreeable of men, but her sister had proved them all wrong. Mr. Darcy devoted himself to Elizabeth’s happiness: Lizzy had a beautiful home and true love.

As for Lydia, she had chosen the more amiable George Wickham—a man who possessed a handsome face and a way of pleasing all onlookers. Her husband was the type of man toward almost every female eye turned, and Lydia had originally prided herself upon being the woman he had chosen. Initially, everyone in Meryton had believed her husband’s disgraceful lies regarding his relationship with Mr. Darcy. Even Elizabeth had accepted Wickham’s tales of malicious revenge and justice. It was only after Lydia’s ill-fated elopement with him that the world had known her Wickham for his true colors.

Yet even then, she had foolishly believed him—accepted his words of love as legitimate and rejected the efforts of her father and of her aunt and uncle and of Mr. Darcy to salvage her reputation—and declared herself perfectly happy to remain with her dear Wickham until he could bring himself to marry her. Unfortunately, it had been only under duress that Wickham agreed to make her his bride—not a solid basis for a marriage.

They lived in rented rooms, surviving upon Jane’s and Elizabeth’s goodness. She did not know what else to do. She had never learned economy in her mother’s home—frivolity, yes; economy, no. She possessed no household arts. If she were in either of her sisters’ positions, she would have servants who knew how to maintain a household, and even though she realized it not fair to Jane or Elizabeth, Lydia thought it quite unreasonable that she should suffer alone. Only recently, her mother had written to announce that Mary had attracted the attentions of one of Uncle Philips’s clerks, and their mother expected the man to declare himself soon. Lydia felt the injustice of knowing that even plain, moralizing Mary might find contentment when she did not.


Evelyn Williams opened the cloth purse she hid each night under her pillow. It contained all she had of value in the world. Fifteen gold pieces caught the glint of the fire—solid gold—worth a small fortune. She lifted one of the circular discs and rolled it about in her fingers. Slowly, Evelyn brought it to her lips and kissed it for good luck.

Next, she took his ring into her palm. Somehow, it felt warm, as if it still held the heat of his hand in its metal. Again, she brought the item to her mouth, but this time it was his face she saw—the face of the man she loved. Their marriage certificate lay folded and small on the white bed sheet. Reverently, she unfolded it, smoothing out the edges, letting her fingertips trace the raised letters. Reading the solemn words silently, Evelyn placed her hand upon the page and drifted off to sleep.


“Adam?” Cathleen whispered as she turned in the man’s arms. They had made love and fallen asleep, arms and legs entangled. “I need to say something to you.”

“What is it, Darling?” Fully sated, Adam Lawrence would have preferred only to rest in her embrace.

“When this is over, I want to travel to Cheshire alone. My family would not understand my traveling in your company.”

Adam forced his eyes open, hearing a touch of finality in her tone. “Then you mean to leave me?” He stared deeply into her sea green eyes.

“I will never know a more generous man, and I will regret it all my life, but it is for the best. The fragile thread of life is too easily broken.The evil we have experienced at Pemberley convinces me I need to return to the girl I once was and to the life I once knew.” She tenderly caressed Adam’s face.

He did not move. He had known this moment would come soon enough, although he had expected to be the one to end their relationship. Adam appreciated Cathleen for her alluring combination of innocence and sexuality. He found the woman most appealing, and he did not wish to replace her; yet, Adam would not beg her to stay. “I would prefer to remain with you until we are safely away from Pemberley. I will see to your journey and make an appropriate settlement upon you.”