A Quest for Mr Darcy

by Cassandra Grafton

  Darcy turned to follow him to the table, and as he took a seat, Georgiana entered the room.

  ‘Mrs Annesley is feeling a little unwell this morning; she is resting in her chamber.’

  ‘Nothing of concern, I trust, Georgie?’

  ‘No, Brother. A head cold, that is all. I promised I would sit with her after breaking my fast, perhaps read a little to her.’

  ‘Colonel Fitzwilliam, may we go ghost-hunting again?’

  Darcy smiled at his cousin’s amused countenance as he took the seat next to Olivia’s. ‘Of course! I am at your disposal.’

  ‘Fitzwilliam, I am not sure, with this poacher...’

  ‘Be calm, Darcy. They will be with me, and from what Rivers has said, this so-called poacher cannot even light an adequate fire. He must also be an appalling trapper or shot if he has to resort to raiding kitchen gardens! I doubt he will outwit me should we cross his path.’ He lowered his voice as Olivia and Viola talked excitedly to each other across the table. ‘Besides, the girls, sweet as they are, do not understand the concept of proceeding with caution. Even a half-wit poacher would have ample notice of our approach!’

  ‘A fair point.’ Darcy turned to his friend. ‘Bingley? Do you have any objection?’

  He shrugged. ‘If the girls are happy, then so am I; after all, they could have no finer escort.’

  Throwing Darcy a smug look, the colonel returned his attention to his plate, and Darcy raised his cup to take a sip, only to lower it again slowly as the door opened once more, and Elizabeth and her sister entered.

  There was a flurry of good mornings before Jane turned immediately for the console table, and after a slight hesitation, Elizabeth followed her. Darcy’s eyes were fixed upon her, trying to gauge her mood, and it was as though she sensed it, for she turned her head suddenly to meet his look. She did not seem displeased; in fact, she gave him a tremulous smile.

  ‘Miss Elizabeth! Come!’ Viola waved her over. ‘I have saved a seat for you beside me.’

  ‘I will bring you some tea,’ Jane spoke over her shoulder to her sister, and Elizabeth did as she was bid.

  ‘Miss Elizabeth.’

  ‘Mr Darcy.’

  As she settled into her allotted seat in between Viola and himself, Darcy strove not to look at Elizabeth, though he was aware she had accepted a cup from Jane, who then walked around the table to sit beside Georgiana.

  ‘Is Pemberley’s not the finest library you have ever seen?’ Viola placed her cup of hot chocolate on the table and turned her gaze to Elizabeth.

  ‘I dare say there is not a book one could not find in there!’ Olivia smiled widely at them from across the table.

  ‘But we do have a favourite corner already, do we not, ‘Livia?’ Viola beamed at Darcy, and he smiled back.

  ‘And which is that?’

  ‘The shelves filled with Shakespeare’s plays!’

  The colonel grinned. ‘I suspect your penchant is for tragedies, Miss Viola, with your present fascination with ghostly apparitions!’

  Viola laughed. ‘Our interest in Pemberley’s ghost has not waned; this much is true. However, I believe Olivia and I are more formed for his comedies.’

  Olivia nodded vigorously. ‘Indeed, Colonel Fitzwilliam; we were born on Twelfth Night—did you not know?’

  ‘Mama was an ardent admirer of Shakespeare.’

  Elizabeth smiled. ‘I did wonder. It is one of my favourite plays. And your youngest sister? Is it Julia?’

  Viola sighed dramatically. ‘She was to be a boy, who would be named Julius.’

  Georgiana’s eyes widened. ‘Truly? That is not a particularly...er—’

  Olivia shook her head. ‘Viola teases you, Georgiana. Our youngest sister is named for Juliet, but we all call her Julia.’

  ‘Then your mother was quite the romantic then.’

  ‘Indeed. As are we.’

  ‘And you, Miss Elizabeth? Do you believe in romance?’ Viola looked archly between Darcy and Elizabeth. ‘I believe Mr Darcy does.’

  Darcy stared at Elizabeth. Colour had flooded her cheeks, though her eyes expressed amusement. What was he to say?

  ‘I thought I might take Olivia and Viola to Mam Tor and to see the remains of Peveril Castle.’ Bingley smiled genially around the table. ‘Would any of you care to join us? We can always take an additional conveyance.’

  ‘I will have to forego on this occasion, Bingley.’ Darcy glanced at the clock on the mantel. ‘I cannot stray quite so far from the house with visitors due.’

  ‘What time do you expect them, Brother?’

  Darcy looked over at Georgiana. ‘I have no notion. I suspect it will depend upon the condition of the roads after yesterday’s rainfall.’

  Olivia turned to Georgiana and tried to press her to join them on their outing, but she stood by her promise to her companion, saying she would enjoy hearing about the excursion upon their return.

  ‘Miss Bennet! You will come, will you not?’

  Two pairs of identical eyes fixed upon Jane, and Darcy smiled. Who could resist such supplication?

  ‘There is room in our own carriage for one more.’ Viola’s voice was pleading.

  ‘And there are caves near the castle!’ Olivia smiled encouragingly at Jane. ‘It is in all ways most splendid, is it not?’

  ‘'Livia says there are bats in them! How thrilling.’

  Olivia nodded eagerly. ‘Do you think they will attack us?’

  Both girls stared wide-eyed at each other, positively quivering with anticipation, and the colonel laughed as Bingley turned to Jane.

  ‘Do take pity on me, Miss Bennet. I shall otherwise be quite outnumbered.’

  Jane smiled. ‘Thank you, sir. I shall be delighted to be one of the party.’

  Elizabeth exchanged a look with her sister. ‘Much as being set upon by bats sounds incredibly exciting, I find myself somewhat relieved to have long overdue correspondence I must attend to.’

  As the conversation continued to flow around the table, Elizabeth got to her feet and walked over to where the tea urn stood, and Darcy’s gaze followed her. She seemed quite at ease now, and the smile she had bestowed upon him earlier did not speak of any resentment. Draining his cup, he got to his feet.

  ‘Oh!’ Elizabeth turned from refilling her cup as he joined her. ‘Forgive me, Mr Darcy. I—you startled me.’

  He gestured towards the urn. ‘I came for a refill.’

  ‘Allow me, sir.’ Elizabeth placed her own cup on the console and took his from him. He studied the curls against the soft skin of her neck as she busied herself, then drew in a shallow breath. This would not do!

  ‘Are you quite well, Miss Elizabeth?’

  She glanced at him briefly. ‘I am, sir. Thank you.’

  ‘I would not wish you to... you have recovered from your... last night... being lost.’

  Slowly turning around, his cup and saucer in her hands, Elizabeth raised her eyes to his. Did he sound as though he were trying to apologise?

  Elizabeth seemed equally unsure, for she said nothing but held out his replenished cup, but as he took hold of the saucer, their eyes locked upon each other. What else could he say? Had he made it sufficiently plain he still admired her? He felt a compelling need for it to be so before his visitors arrived. The silence swelled between them, despite the muted sounds of the others at the table.

  ‘A word of caution.’ Their gazes flew to the colonel as he came to stand beside them. ‘One of you needs to take ownership of that cup. If you both rescind the saucer at once, the liquid will be quenching the rug, not your thirst.’

  ~o0o~

  Elizabeth stared at the piece of parchment before her. She had written no more than, ‘My dear Charlotte’, beyond which she had yet to progress. With a sigh, she dropped the pen, its nib long devoid of ink, onto the desk and rose from her seat.

  She walked to one of the windows and stared out into the grounds. Though she had expected to lie awake half the night, she had in fact slept well, only
to awaken to the tumult of questions on which her eyes had closed. What had driven Mr Darcy to act as he had? What could he have meant by it? And he had seemed almost... concerned about her, earlier. Could she still be dear to him? It brought little comfort to think so, with Miss Latimer’s arrival imminent. How could it bring Mr Darcy any solace either, if it were so?

  Elizabeth turned her back on the window. Georgiana remained upstairs, reading to her companion; Jane and the Bingleys had headed off on their excursion, and Mr Darcy and his cousin had gone for a ride. Elizabeth walked slowly back across the drawing room. It was a beautifully decorated space, without question, but above all, it was a home, and she sighed as she looked around.

  ‘So much more real elegance than Rosings.’

  ‘I could not agree more, Miss Elizabeth!’

  With a start, she turned about. The colonel had come into the room, and she smiled warmly at him, a question in her eyes.

  ‘Darcy’s mount lost a shoe when we had gone but a few furlongs. We decided to return to the house and enjoy the peace whilst it lasted.’

  Elizabeth laughed, thankful for the interruption to her interminable thoughts. ‘That sounds more in keeping with your cousin, sir, than yourself. I suspect you do not mean it at all.’

  The colonel winked at her, picking up a newspaper from the sideboard and settling in an armchair near the hearth. ‘Ah, Darce; there you are. I am being much maligned by Miss Elizabeth Bennet, who does not believe a word I say. It is only fair you come to my aid.’

  ‘She is quite right not to have faith in any of your fancies, Fitzwilliam.’

  ‘I trust your mount is not injured, sir?’ Elizabeth met Mr Darcy’s gaze warily.

  ‘Not at all.’ His eye fell on her discarded writing slope. ‘Do we disturb? We can remove to the library or my study.’

  ‘No, sir.’ Elizabeth did not wish to be left to her own devices any longer. ‘I have achieved little and welcome some distraction.’

  ‘We have been remiss, Miss Elizabeth.’ The colonel looked up from his paper. ‘It is a fine day. If it is company you seek, I am certain we can place ourselves at your disposal, should you wish to go for a walk?’

  Smiling, Elizabeth looked from the colonel to his cousin. Mr Darcy nodded. ‘Indeed. I do not believe you have seen the arboretum?’

  ‘Good thinking, Darce. The colours are quite something at this time of year.’

  ‘I would be delighted to see it, and I am sure I could not have better guides.’

  The colonel laughed. ‘Well, in Darcy you could not. My attention tends to wander too easily!’

  Back in her dressing room, Elizabeth hurriedly changed her footwear and picked up a warm shawl. The chance to walk with Mr Darcy, albeit in his cousin’s company, was unexpected, and she intended to enjoy it.

  She barely threw the alcove a passing glance as she walked back along the landing, but as she reached the top of the stairs she looked down the gallery towards the guest wing where the twins had taken her on the previous evening. Mr Darcy had asked her to show him the view which had afforded the ghostly vision, had he not? Perhaps she ought to mention it before they began their walk.

  When she neared the bottom of the staircase, she could see Mr Darcy waiting, and he walked to meet her as she reached the entrance hall.

  ‘My cousin will be here directly.’

  Willing her heart to stop its skipping, Elizabeth drew in a calming breath. ‘I wish neither you nor your mount any harm, Mr Darcy, but I am thankful for the loss of its shoe.’

  Mr Darcy took a further step towards her, and Elizabeth stared up at him. ‘Much as I enjoy a gallop across the fields, I find I, too, can bear its loss quite well.’

  Against her volition, Elizabeth raised a hand to her cheek, and the gentleman’s eye followed it before his gaze flew back to meet hers.

  ‘Miss Elizabeth,’ he hesitated. ‘I—I hope you forgive my forwardness last night.’

  ‘Sir, it was—‘

  ‘Excuse me, Miss Bennet?’

  With a start, they both took a step backwards as a footman approached bearing a silver salver.

  ‘A servant from The Grange has called with some post which arrived this morning.’

  Taking the two envelopes from the tray, Elizabeth thanked him, before glancing at the first one.

  ‘It is a letter from my sister, Mary.’ She looked up. ‘Mr Darcy—are you quite well?’ The gentleman had gone exceedingly pale.

  ‘That letter...’

  Elizabeth glanced at the second. ‘It is for Papa.’

  ‘The hand; Miss Elizabeth, do you recognise the hand?’

  Elizabeth frowned at the urgency in his tone as she studied it carefully. ‘Not at all. Though ‘tis singular; apart from my sisters’, all post comes via my uncle’s address in London.’

  ‘Fitzwilliam!’

  Elizabeth turned around; the colonel had returned to the entrance hall, and he walked swiftly over at Darcy’s call.

  ‘Is something wrong?’

  ‘May I, Miss Elizabeth?’ Darcy pointed to the letter she held; she handed it to him, and he held it before his cousin.

  ‘Wickham,’ the colonel hissed.

  Elizabeth’s eyes widened. ‘Then he did survive the fire. But why... I mean, how could he know we are in Derbyshire? And why would he write to Papa?’

  ‘Mr Darcy? Sir?’

  Darcy dragged his eyes away from Elizabeth’s anxious face. His housekeeper had come to join them. ‘Mrs Reynolds?’

  ‘There is a carriage just crossing the bridge, sir. I believe your visitors approach.’

  Chapter Forty-Five

  With a walk no longer possible, and Mr Darcy gone in search of his sister, Elizabeth took the letters to her chamber. She quickly read through Mary’s, paying it only half her attention, her gaze straying time and again to the one resting on the counterpane. The knowledge of whose hand had penned the direction was sufficient to cause her some anxiety, and she longed for Jane’s return and the chance to discuss what, if anything, they might do about it in their father’s absence.

  By the time Elizabeth had returned downstairs, the entrance hall was empty, though the front doors were open and she could see movement aplenty outside. Hurrying to the drawing room, which overlooked the front of the house, she stood to one side of the window, concealed by the heavy drape.

  A carriage had arrived on the gravel sweep, and Mr Darcy and Georgiana stood waiting as a footman hurried forward to lower the steps. Under the instruction of the butler, an array of other footmen had emerged from the service entrance and began unloading a secondary conveyance bearing the Latimers’ luggage, along with their personal servants.

  A gentleman stepped out into the sunlight, and he turned to offer his hand to a lady, presumably his wife, before greeting Mr and Miss Darcy formally. Elizabeth bit her lip; they seemed personable, friendly even. She was all but holding her breath, awaiting Miss Latimer’s emergence from the carriage, but as the conversation continued between Mr and Mrs Latimer and their hosts, there was no sign of her.

  Elizabeth’s gaze settled on Mr Darcy; he was not smiling. Indeed, his air and countenance bore a striking resemblance to when she had first made his acquaintance in Hertfordshire: inscrutable, keeping himself distant almost, and she frowned. Surely he had been anticipating this visit, as it must have been at his own invitation?

  Releasing a soft sigh, Elizabeth continued to look out of the window. She felt so conflicted. Mr Darcy’s attention, his care of her, seemed to intensify by the day, and instead of facing reality and trying to stem the depth of her feeling for him, she found herself becoming more and more attached to him. Where could it possibly lead? Then, she drew in a quick breath. Mr Latimer had turned back to the carriage and held out his hand as a young lady alighted.

  Miss Latimer was tall, slender of figure and fair in colouring; a handsome, rather than beautiful, woman. Her air and countenance, however, spoke of disinterest. She raised no smile for her hosts on their greeting
her, and from what could be seen, spoke nothing beyond the common civilities.

  Elizabeth started as the door to the room swung open and the colonel walked in. ‘There you are, Miss Elizabeth! I thought for a moment you had managed to escape on a walk after all!’

  ‘Sadly not, sir.’

  ‘Ah, here they come.’ The colonel grunted as he joined her by the window. ‘Behold Miss Eleanor Latimer, aged two and twenty, accomplished horsewoman and musician and, moreover, with a dowry of fifty thousand pounds. Quite the catch, so they say.’

  ‘She must want for very little, then.’ Elizabeth watched as the young woman followed her parents up the steps, Georgiana at her side. They were not speaking, and Georgiana looked uncomfortable. Elizabeth sighed. She had borne a distinct heaviness in her breast over the past few days; with an introduction to the lady Mr Darcy intended to take as his wife imminent, it seemed to have increased ten-fold.

  ‘What do you know of her disposition, Colonel?’

  ‘Nothing of any note.’ Colonel Fitzwilliam turned away, then said over his shoulder, ‘and moreover, neither does Darcy.’

  Following the colonel out into the entrance hall, Elizabeth pinned a smile on her face. No one must know how little she desired this encounter, how low this alteration to the party at Pemberley brought her.

  The introductions were swiftly made, and the colonel, who was slightly acquainted with Mr Latimer, took it upon himself to steer the head of the family towards the drawing room, his wife and daughter following in their wake. Georgiana took Elizabeth’s arm and, taking one glance at her face, the latter smiled comfortingly. Mr Darcy smiled faintly at her and fell into step beside them as they crossed the hall to join the others.

  ‘I hope to continue our discussion as soon as is practicable, Miss Elizabeth.’ He spoke quietly, with no reference to the letter from Wickham, and though Georgiana threw him a curious glance, she seemed pleased with the inference, and her usual smile reinstated itself as they entered the drawing room.

  As Georgiana encouraged everyone to take a seat, Darcy gestured towards a long table set up at the far end of the room.