Unforgiving Temper by Gail Head

refused to give them the satisfaction of knowing her panic.
Terrified and furious at the same time, Elizabeth strained in a
violent effort to free herself, but Wickham's superior strength
held her fast. Forced to endure Mrs. Younge's vigorous
examination, Elizabeth could only shut her eyes against the horror
of the woman's searching hands moving roughly across her chest and
down her legs.
    “There's nothing here!” Mrs. Younge
complained.
    “Keep looking. I am confident
Miss Bennet would not travel so far without resources. Would
you my dear?” he murmured darkly in her ear.
    Renewing her efforts, Mrs. Younge soon
gave a triumphant cry as her fingers closed around the coins pinned
beneath Elizabeth's skirt.
    “You were right! She did have money – and
quite a nice sum at that!”
    Elizabeth's heart plummeted when the coins
that would have been her means of escape dropped into
Mrs. Younge's own pocket. Wickham relaxed his hold and
Elizabeth shook him off with an angry shrug.
    “Are you satisfied?” she hissed.
    “Quite. I am sure you would not want to
jeopardize your family's reputation by backing out of our
arrangement, but I was obliged to remove the temptation from you
all the same. Now, shall we have some refreshment before the coach
arrives?” he offered cheerfully.
    Moving to a small table which held a tray of
tea and biscuits, he filled a cup and held it out to Elizabeth.
Badly shaken by the cold-hearted assault, she managed to quell the
trembling in her hands as she accepted the cup. She had to do
everything in her power to keep her wits about her for the
situation was much more dangerous than she could have ever
imagined. She realized it would take every possible stratagem for
her plan to succeed.
    With little appetite, it was not difficult to
refuse the biscuits, and Elizabeth had only managed to consume half
her lukewarm tea before a heavy hand banged on the door, announcing
the arrival of the post coach.
    Quickly finishing his biscuit, Wickham gulped
down the last of his tea and hurried the two ladies out to the
waiting carriage. Their luggage was already secured on top and the
door stood open, showing them to be the only passengers. Handing
Elizabeth and her companion in, he stepped back as the stable boy
folded the steps and closed the door. She looked at him in
confusion and he responded with a broad smile.
    “This is where I leave you now. I am
returning to Meryton as Mrs. Forster has invited me to dine this
evening and I would not want to disappoint her. I wish you a
pleasant journey, ladies. I do not expect there will be any
difficulties now that we all understand one other – do we not?” His
eyes swept boldly over Elizabeth before giving Mrs. Younge a
sly wink.
    Elizabeth opened her mouth to reply, but was
suddenly thrown backwards as Wickham thumped the side of the
carriage to signal the coachman, and the impatient horses were
given their head. Her indignant cry was drowned out by the crack of
the whip and pounding hooves as the carriage lurched out of the
cobbled courtyard and onto the road leading northward.
    Awkwardly, Elizabeth struggled to regain her
seat as Mrs. Younge looked on with obvious amusement. When she
finally managed to right herself, the woman turned to inspect the
passing countryside, ignoring Elizabeth altogether. Elizabeth sat
studying the woman who had happily aided Mr. Wickham in his
despicable attack at the inn and wondered what had happened in Ann
Younge's life to create such a vile and unprincipled creature.
    Soon she turned away as well and gazed out
the window though she saw nothing of what lay beyond. Her mind was
too engaged with the enormity of her situation. Robbed of her money
and her dignity, she was being carried headlong into the unknown
with no more than a hope of finding help at the end of her
journey.
    She struggled against the tears now welling
in her eyes, searching her mind for something – anything – that
would lift her spirits, but even