Mr. Darcy, the Beast by Valerie Lennox

Author:Valerie Lennox [Lennox, Valerie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Punk Rawk Books
Published: 2019-12-31T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Elizabeth reached out and put her hand on his arm, but why she did it, she wasn’t sure. Could she calm him with a touch? Could she stop the anger that she could see had already overtaken his body?

He was stiff and his face was twisted, his nostrils flared. He flung aside his cane and went after the dog, moving with surprising speed and agility.

“Mr. Darcy!” called Elizabeth.

“Oh, heavens!” said Mrs. Peters, appearing in the doorway where the dog had come from. “Sir!”

Mr. Darcy tackled Lady, arms around her neck. The two went down onto the floor, struggling. The dog was whining and growling, snapping its teeth, and Mr. Darcy was squeezing it as if he meant it harm.

Elizabeth rushed forward and so did Mrs. Peters.

“She’s only a dog!” cried Mrs. Peters.

Elizabeth fell to her knees and wrapped her arms around her husband’s chest. “Stop it!”

Darcy did stop, seemingly shocked by Elizabeth’s touch. He looked at her over his shoulder.

She let go of him, and she stood up, thinking about how she had not realized how firm and solid and muscular his back would be. She knew he was wounded, but he was still quite strong. She felt flustered.

Mrs. Peters had the dog. “Please, sir.”

Mr. Darcy scrambled to his feet, tossing at his hair, which had fallen into his eyes. “Please? You beg for the dog? I thought you found another home for her.”

Mrs. Peters shook her head. “We’ve been keeping her in the kitchens, I’m afraid. She’s a good dog, and the others are her littermates, and we all love her so, and…”

“Mrs. Peters, who is the master of this house?” Mr. Darcy’s eyes flashed.

“Well, you are, sir,” said Mrs. Peters. “But—”

“Then, when I give an order, are you not to obey it?”

“Yes, sir.” Mrs. Peters hung her head.

“Have the dog gone by the end of the day,” said Mr. Darcy imperiously, “or you shall go with it.”

“Mr. Darcy!” exclaimed Elizabeth.

Darcy turned to look at her. “Oh, you don’t approve?”

“How long has Mrs. Peters been your housekeeper?” said Elizabeth. “Why, did she not know you when you were a boy? Has she not given a lifetime of service to your family? And you think to dismiss her?”

“I shall ask you the same question, dear wife,” said Mr. Darcy, his voice like ice. “Who is the master of this house?’

“Well, I won’t answer it, because you’re behaving in such a manner as to be positively horrid.”

“It’s a simple request, really,” said Mr. Darcy, going back to the table, this time with a bit of a limp in his gait. “I want the dog gotten rid of. I don’t care what you do with it. Slit its throat for all I care.”

“Kill the dog?” said Elizabeth, aghast.

“Perhaps I should do it myself,” said Darcy, who had arrived at the table. He bent over it, bracing his hands on the edge, his head bent down. “It seems that’s the only way my wishes are carried out in this house.”

Mrs. Peters cleared her throat.

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