It was the same almost translucent white dress with silver embroidery she had worn the night they waltzed, a thousand years ago, but now the wet fabric was molded to her body. She must have pulled herself out of the water somehow before exhausting herself.
She lifted her head when he knelt in the mud by her side. "Geoffrey," she said weakly. "Is it truly you this time?"
Almost dizzy with relief, he said, "Of course it is me." He gathered her shivering body close, and she cried out in pain. "Are you hurt?"
"Just a little." She touched her hair, and Geoffrey was horrified to see something dark trickling through it. "I thought you were here before. You were a boy again, giving me swimming lessons, but then you vanished when I reached the bank."
"My poor Eleanor! Whatever made you try to cross those stones at night?"
She laughed faintly. "Now I know it is you. You are scolding me."
"I will do more than scold you if you ever attempt a foolish stunt like that again!" He had to get her somewhere warm and safe, but where? Bentham Park was closer and would serve to protect her reputation. He could see lanterns moving in the woods there, presumably searchers who could help him, but he would have to get her across the river, not just along the bank. And once at Bentham, they would never allow him to see her. The path to Hillington was twice as long, but there would be no one there who would try to keep him from Eleanor. No. Hillington it would be, and if it tarnished her reputation, so much the better. He was perfectly prepared to marry her to save her from shame, or for any other reason. "Do you think you can walk?"
"I do not know." Gamely, she rose to her feet with his assistance. "See. I am perfectly well." She took one step, and her leg went out from under her.
He caught her just before she fell.
The ground was too marshy to walk safely, especially when carrying a burden, so it had to be the river again until they reached the usual path. Geoffrey stripped off his sodden coat and left it on the bank. It would only weigh him down.
There were long minutes of terror when Eleanor lost consciousness as he forced his way against the current. His relief when she opened her eyes again as he neared the house was tempered when she moaned and clutched at her leg. Each step he took seemed to caused her pain, no matter how smoothly he tried to carry her.
"I am so sorry," he said. "Should I put you down and run to the house for a litter? That might hurt less."
"No, do not leave me!" She wound her arms tightly around his neck as if to prevent his escape.
He was just as glad since he did not know how he could bring himself to leave her side. "You must tell me if the pain grows worse."
"It hardly hurts at all" she said stoutly, but he could tell she was lying. "Your arms must be very tired."
As if he cared how much his arms ached! "I cannot imagine a better cause in which to tire them." She laid her head back on his shoulder. "All I do is cause trouble for you. I cannot understand why you do not hate me."
"How could I hate you when you hold my heart?"
"Do I still?" Her voice trembled slightly.
"Silly girl, how could you think otherwise? Of course, it is possible that you may hate me by the time tonight is over."
"Why?"
They had reached Hillington, and Paxton kicked at the base of the front door in lieu of knocking. Symons opened it so quickly that he must have been waiting beside it. but he could not disguise his astonishment at finding his master soaked to the skin and carrying a dripping young lady who clung to him and hid her face. A footman stepped forward at once, but Paxton shook his head. '"Have the fire in my room built up at once, and I will require hot water and tea as quickly as possible. Also, send for the apothecary and tell him that Lady Eleanor Carlisle is injured and requires his services here."
"Will you be needing a lady's maid as well?" asked the shaken butler.
"Excellent thought." Without further ado, he carried his burden up the stairs.
In a faint voice, Eleanor said, "You did not answer my question. Why should I hate you?"
He kissed her forehead. "I did answer in my own way. I just destroyed your reputation, and I did it quite deliberately. I am not going to stand by and watch you marry Darcy or any other man, even if it means dragging you down so low that your father has no recourse but to allow our marriage."
"Oh." She sounded puzzled. "I still do not hate you."
His voice held laughter as he said. "Good. Still it remains to see if you feel the same when you are more in your right mind." He gently deposited her in a chair beside the fire. Pulling the satin counterpane off his bed without a thought for its value, he wrapped it around Eleanor. "We must get you warm."
That was enough direction for the string of servants that followed them, since in short order Eleanor sat before a roaring fire with her feet in a basin of hot water and warm bricks tucked beside her. Paxton's valet had to beg him to come into the dressing room to remove his drenched clothes and boots. He barely managed to wrap his master in a dry housecoat before Paxton insisted on returning to Eleanor's side.
The housekeeper bustled in with a voluminous nightdress and lady's robe, and Paxton told her what little he knew of Eleanor's injuries. "Do what you can for her comfort. She is not to attempt to walk. Pray inform me as soon she has dry clothes on. and I will carry her to the bed."
"Of course, I will have the blue room readied for her."
"You may ready it for me," he said firmly. "Lady Eleanor will sleep here."
"But sir, that is most improper! What will the servants and the apothecary think when they find her in your bed?"
"They will think precisely what I wish them to think."
"But sir..."
"Did you fail to understand my instructions?" His tone was sharper than his usual wont.
She paled and dropped a curtsey. "No, sir."
"Good. And you will make certain that all the staff treat her with the respect due to the future mistress of Hillington."
Her cheeks regained their usual ruddy color.
"Of course, sir. On behalf of all the staff. I hope you will accept my congratulations."
"Thank you. I shall be just outside in the sitting room should Lady Eleanor ask for me."
Once the door to the bedroom was closed behind him. he sat at the writing desk and drew out a fresh sheet of paper.
Lady Bentham had ordered them to remain in the privacy of her husband's study with the door closed. "We must keep any knowledge of this from our guests. I will try to distract them, but if they see all of you here, they will know something is amiss." The searchers were still at work, but had found no trace of Lady Eleanor. Lord Bentham had tried to send Elizabeth to bed, telling her that a tender young thing like her needed her sleep. Elizabeth, with that sweet archness Darcy knew so well, had told him she could not possibly rest with Eleanor's whereabouts unknown, and so she was permitted to stay. Darcy decided not to think too hard about the propriety of a single woman alone in a room with three gentlemen. If it did not trouble Lady Bentham. it would not trouble him. At least Elizabeth no longer seemed angry with him. though she showed him no particular warmth. If only the hammers inside his skull would stop pounding!
The mantelpiece clock had long since chimed one when a servant entered with a letter for Elizabeth. "From Hillington Hall, miss. The boy who brought it said it was urgent."
Did she realize they were all watching her as she inspected the envelope and broke the seal? Presumably it was from Paxton, damn him. Were it known she had received a letter from a single gentleman to whom she was not betrothed, her reputation would not escape unharmed.
Carlisle went to stand behind her. "I do not like it. Elizabeth. You should not be receiving letters from him."
"At this hour. I imagine it is not so much a letter as an urgent communication," Darcy said, his voice sharper than he had intended.
Elizabeth did not bother to look at either of them. "It is a reply from a message I sent him after I learned Eleanor was missing
. I thought he might be able to find her. as Eleanor has spoken of crossing the river at the rock fall." Unfolding the single sheet, she glanced briefly at the contents. Something in it made her gasp.
She looked up at Lord Bentham, then down again at the letter and began to read, her voice shaking slightly.
"You will be pleased to hear that I have discovered Ladv Eleanor's whereabouts. I am sorry to report that she injured herself in an attempt to cross the river in the dark. Although not life threatening, her injuries are enough to preclude moving her. She is currently at Hillington where the apothecaiy will be attending to her. If you wish, you may tell Lord Bentham that I will send further information once I have heard the apothecaiy's opinion. Thank you for informing me she was missing, as she likely would not have survived had I not discovered her when I did.
Yours, etc., G. Paxton
Carlisle took it from her hand as if it was his right and read through it. From the set of Elizabeth's jaw, Darcy could guess how much this possessive behavior angered her. It surprised him that she was managing to follow his advice to avoid refusing Carlisle outright; in the last few hours, he had seen half a dozen instances where he had expected her temper to flare.
Odd - he was more worried about that than about returning to Hillington to face Paxton and Eleanor. Since Paxton had sent the note to Elizabeth rather than Darcy, even though it was a flagrant breach of propriety, it seemed certain he had not forgiven Darcy. Eleanor had made her feelings plain by running to him, but she might have planned to return before morning with no one the wiser, and then to go on with the engagement. Darcy was bound to it until she said otherwise, but he was not going to marry an unwilling woman, no matter what threats were leveled at him. He cleared his throat. "That was a good thought, sending word to Paxton. Thank you. Miss Bennet."
Lord Bentham seemed more confused than his usual forceful self. "Why did you think Paxton would know where Eleanor went?"
Elizabeth looked at the floor. "It was a guess, my lord."
Even if Lord Bentham did not now grasp the significance of Paxton's knowledge of Eleanor, he would work it out later. Perhaps it was time for the truth, for his own sake as much as anything else. Darcy said, "My lord, we have not been completely open with you. Your daughter is very fond of Paxton, and he is perhaps her closest confidant." Lord Bentham shook his head. "Nonsense. She hardly knows him."
"So she has led you to believe. Over the last year, she has met with him clandestinely on a number of occasions, both in London and here. Lady Eleanor invited Miss Bennet here to serve as her chaperone at their meetings. I told you last night that I was not in the woods with Lady Eleanor on the day of the picnic, nor had I kissed her. That was Paxton. Our height and coloring is similar; no doubt your observer confused the two of us."
"She said it was you. Why would she lie to me?" Lord Bentham sounded sadly bewildered.
"She fears your anger. They are in love, but know you would never agree to a marriage between them. You have seen that your daughter has been unhappy, and this is why."
"But Paxton? How could she care for him? Darcy chose his words with care, not an easy feat when the world refused to hold still. "The world is changing, sir. A girl like Lady Eleanor sees young men from good families like hers becoming wastrels and fops, ruining their family's fortunes for the sake of passing pleasures. The tradesmen whom you knew lacked social graces and connections; but their sons, like Paxton, have been raised and educated as gentlemen and they do not take their good fortune for granted. You look at Paxton and see grubby hands; she sees a gentleman she can respect, a responsible landlord, an intelligent man with no interest in gambling for high stakes and drinking himself into oblivion."
"She would not feel the same way when she discovered she was no longer welcome in the ton." His shoulders sagged. "And now she is at Hillington. This will be very difficult to disguise."
It was tempting to point out that the easiest solution was to allow the two to marry, but Darcy thought he had pushed as far as he could without risk of sounding as if he were trying to weasel out of the engagement. Instead, he said. "Now that I know Lady Eleanor is safe. I shall take my leave as well. I will send you word in the morning as to your daughter's condition." It was only a few hours until first light in any case.
Elizabeth's dress rustled as she stood. "Perhaps I should go with you. If I arrive before morning, it might appear that I was there as a chaperone throughout."
The possibility of quelling rumors seemed to rouse Lord Bentham. "That is an excellent idea, if Darcy has no objection. Pardon me. I must inform Lady Bentham of this." He shuffled from the room.
Lord Charles looked down at Elizabeth. "I do not like this. You should remain here."
"I will be perfectly safe with Mr. Darcy, and I must go to Eleanor. I cannot leave her there alone, especially when she is hurt."
"Then I will take you."
Darcy gritted his teeth.
"Pray, sir, my reputation would be unlikely to survive a night-time journey with you." She gave him an arch look that made him laugh.
Lady Bentham strode in imperiously. "Ah, Mr. Darcy. I have heard the news, and this is what we shall say. After dinner, Miss Bennet went to check on Eleanor. Thinking some fresh air might revive her, they went for a walk. They lost their way in the dark and Eleanor tripped, injuring herself. Seeing the lights of Hillington Hall nearby, they sought assistance there. With Eleanor's injury, we felt it best for her to pass the night there, and we will bring her home in the morning."
Darcy wondered how Lady Eleanor would feel if she knew her stepmother was more concerned about her reputation than her injuries or what had led to her flight. Perhaps it was exactly what she would expect.
Chapter 14
Darcy waited beside the carriage in the blessed darkness as Elizabeth approached, wearing the dark hooded cloak Lady Bentham had insisted upon. He held his hand out to help her into the carriage, but she was looking back over her shoulder at the house. He asked. "Is something the matter, Miss Bennet?"
With a sigh, she turned to face him and took his outstretched hand. "I used to love Bentham Park." Her voice was wistful.
"So did I." He spoke quietly, without intensity, as she ascended the carriage steps, ducking her head to enter the enclosure. She would be discovering now that this carriage had no facing bench, so he gave her a moment to adjust to the idea that he would be seated beside her rather than across from her. Not that he planned to do anything but converse with her - his megrim did not predispose him to romance, and he would not demean her by touching her when he was promised to another woman.
As soon as he joined her, the carriage set off at a leisurely pace. With the uneven, pot-holed roads between Bentham and Hillington. it would be unsafe to outrun the light from the lanterns strapped to the front of the carriage. This was likely to be a slow trip.
"Mr. Darcy, pray give me your hand," Elizabeth said crisply.
He blinked at her, not that he could see her in the darkness. "I beg your pardon?"
"Your hand. You do have a megrim, do you not?"
If he had not already been violently in love with Elizabeth Bennet, he would be now. He held his hand out to her. "How did you know?"
"By your expression and how stiffly you moved." She pressed her finger into that particular spot by his thumb.
"Were you aware Eleanor planned to run off?"
She did not answer immediately. "No, but I think something I told her provoked her flight."
"Something you said?" Darcy's megrim was not retreating this time despite Elizabeth's ministrations, but he said nothing. Just having her gentle touch helped.
"I told her everything - what you had said about threats to your sister, and about you and me. She had known you were reluctant, but not why." In an abrupt shift to annoyance, she said, "This is not working."
The pressure left his hand. He was tempted to say it had been helping just so she would continue holding his hand, but then he realized she was removing
his glove - and her own. She began again, but this time it was her bare finger against his flesh. Megrim or no, a shiver ran down his spine.
Her finger was probing, moving in little circles, until finally she found the spot she wanted and pressed firmly. "That is better," she said with satisfaction.
And it was better. The knife of pain swirled and dissolved into a cloud, then began to slide down his arm to vanish where she touched him. The relief was so abrupt that he let his head fell forward, his senses swimming. It had not been this intense when she had helped him in the ruins, but they had worn gloves that time. It was probably just as well; if he had felt this strange melting and melding in his body then, he might have assumed it was witchcraft. "It is a good thing I proposed to you in Hunsford; otherwise you might think I only wanted to marry you because of this. Georgiana is going to adore you."
"You might wish to be careful, sir," she said, but her voice seemed to smile. "People's tongues sometimes become unguarded at this stage."
Good God, had he actually said that? Well, it was too late now; he could not take it back. "I will keep that in mind. Thank you."
She shifted her finger slightly, and now his head felt like it was floating, or that it would be if it were not so firmly attached to his neck. She said. "Obviously all those match-making mamas have been teaching their daughters the wrong skills. There is no magic to it; I could show anyone how to do it."
"It would not be the same." He was grateful she had taken it with amusement. He had no business even mentioning marriage when he was engaged to Eleanor. Had Elizabeth not said something about that, something important, just before she turned his brain into jelly? Oh, yes. "What did Lady Eleanor say when you told her?"
"She was very distressed. Horrified, actually. Then she said she would not marry you, and that she would find a way to end the betrothal in a way that no one could blame you. It seems she did not waste any time about it."
Mr. Darcy's Noble Connections: A Pride & Prejudice Variation Page 23