‘What?’ The colonel had come to stand beside him.
Darcy gestured with his arm. ‘This so-called poacher, hanging out in the woods between Pemberley and The Grange.’
‘I suspect this poacher will turn out to be just that, only a poor one. Perchance it is merely a youth, or even a young lad, for he seems rather inept at his profession! We know Wickham to be proficient in such things since he was in short breeches.’
‘This is true; and he would have to be severely altered by the fire for no one to have recognised him. There are many still in the district who have known him man and boy.’
Darcy turned his back on the window. He did not like to think of anyone hiding in the undergrowth, be it here or at The Grange. Was it only Elizabeth who had sensed the presence of someone? Recalling Wickham’s preference for the lady reminded him suddenly of hers for him, and he winced. Then, he pushed it aside. Elizabeth was more than reconciled to Wickham’s true character, and her own family had suffered badly at his hands, as a result of the repercussions of his actions and influence. No, he would not take her in again, but that did not mean Wickham was not still drawn to Elizabeth. Could it be he was not done with trying to attach himself to the Bennets?
Chapter Forty-Seven
Despite Darcy’s concern over what Wickham was up to, the colonel soon persuaded him to return to the drawing room, reminding him there was little they could do at present.
Glancing around, Darcy instinctively sought Elizabeth. She remained seated in between Olivia and Viola, a book still open before them on the table, and though she looked up briefly, she quickly returned her attention to the pages. Bingley was in conversation with Latimer and his wife across the room; their daughter stood with them, though not noticeably contributing to the conversation. Jane sat with Georgiana and Mrs Annesley, who had been well enough to join them after her day of resting, in a small grouping near the hearth, and the colonel walked over to join them.
‘Mr Darcy!’ Viola looked up and beckoned him over. ‘Come, do take a seat. Olivia has written some very pretty pieces in my book.’
Darcy found himself ushered into Viola’s vacated chair beside Elizabeth, with the young lady hurrying round to stand behind her sister as they all turned their attention to the pages before them.
Darcy’s eyes skimmed the words, though he took very little in, conscious as he was of the closeness of Elizabeth by his side. Not wishing to hurt Olivia’s feelings, however, he tried to assimilate what he was reading, then looked up.
‘It is a very creative story, Miss Olivia. I have barely begun, but I shall be most disappointed if I find there are no spirits of the forest in it.’
Olivia beamed widely at him. ‘I shall not spoil the surprise!’
He glanced back at the book with a smile. ‘This looks remarkably like your work, Miss Viola.’
‘It is,’ Elizabeth commented. ‘Look, sir. I suspect you will recognise it if you look more closely.’
Though Olivia’s neat script filled the pages, the borders contained small drawings by the hand of her sister. Darcy studied the figure, then bit back on a laugh. It was clearly identifiable as Mr Hurst, one hand gripping a toppling glass from which the liquid was spilling, the other resting on his ample girth, the shirtfront stained, but his features had been exaggerated, and now resembled nothing more than a toad.
‘A remarkable likeness, though I am not certain your brother would appreciate the depiction!’
Olivia shrugged. ‘Our brother Hurst has no interest in our pursuits.’
Turning the page, he found one filled entirely with similar sketches, and Elizabeth indicated each one in turn as Darcy sought to name them, much to the twins’ delight.
‘Mrs Reynolds... Thornton... is that Pickering, the gardener, and his wife?’ Darcy looked up at Viola and laughed. All had been represented quite accurately, but clearly inspired by and representing a variety of woodland creatures such as birds, squirrels and dormice.
Elizabeth turned the page again. Aside from an elfin creature with locks flowing from under her hooded cape and fairy-like wings, there was a very clever rendition of Rivers as a badger, and...
‘Is that...?’ Elizabeth leaned closer as she studied another drawing, and Darcy inhaled her light scent, wishing he could stay where he was for the remainder of the evening. ‘Oh my goodness!’ She sat back in her seat, laughing, and Darcy looked back at the book.
There was no denying the hawk-like features of Alice, which had been enhanced in the drawing, along with a pair of beady, knowing eyes, and Darcy smiled. ‘I have long suspected your housekeeper to have an all-seeing eye; she misses very little.’
Colour had risen in Elizabeth’s cheeks at these words, and she threw him a conscious look. Intrigued, Darcy wished he could ask her about it, but she had returned her attention to the book.
He stared at Elizabeth's slender hand resting on the table. Did she have any notion how much he wished to take it in his? Casually, he placed his own on the table too as she turned another page, then slowly edged it a bit closer. Someone cleared their throat and looking up, Darcy caught Viola’s eyes upon him. She smiled widely at him and winked, then schooled her features into polite interest as Elizabeth raised her head.
'I am a little anxious to turn a page and find myself represented as a hare or worse, a sow!’
'You need have no concern, Miss Elizabeth. I enjoy sketching you just as you are.'
Elizabeth laughed, and Darcy moved his hand a little closer again. 'And Mr Darcy?' She cast a quick glance in his direction.
Viola shook her head, her fair curls dancing against her cheeks. 'Mr Darcy is too fascinating a study in himself. I cannot think of him as a woodland creature.'
An impish look filtered across Elizabeth's face, and a smile tugged at Darcy’s mouth. 'I think Miss Bennet would expect you to draw me as a fox.'
Olivia and Viola turned delightedly to Elizabeth. 'Why would Mr Darcy say such a thing?' They both begged her to tell them.
'It is a long story.'
'But you must share, Miss Elizabeth!'
'Yes, do share, young lady.'
Looking up, Darcy frowned as Latimer came to stand at the table, his wife following behind him.
Getting to his feet, Darcy's hand brushed against Elizabeth's, and even he did not know if it was by accident or not.
‘Now, now; what have we here at this little gathering?’
Olivia and Viola exchanged a look, and the former closed the book with a snap, giving Mr Latimer what Darcy could only describe as her ‘Caroline’ look. ‘Nothing of consequence, sir. Mere ramblings.’
She got to her feet and Viola linked arms with her as they performed an identical joint, but perfect, curtsey. ‘If you will excuse us, sir, ma’am, we have a pressing desire to speak to Georgiana.’
Darcy was keen to divert Latimer from saying anything untoward in front of Elizabeth. ‘May I offer you some further refreshment, Latimer?’ He gestured towards the gentleman’s empty glass.
‘A capital notion, sir. Lead the way.’ Darcy threw Elizabeth an apologetic glance as she got to her feet, but she had already turned towards the other lady and was inviting her to take a seat by her side.
‘I trust you will forgive my husband his intrusive manner, Miss Bennet.’ Though Mrs Latimer spoke quietly, her words were perfectly clear, and Elizabeth looked at her curiously. ‘He is sadly accustomed to having his own way.’ The lady stared across the room to where Mr Latimer was in conversation with Mr Darcy, his glass now replenished. He seemed quite in earnest about something, and Elizabeth sighed. She suspected he may be pressing for an announcement.
Unhappiness weighed heavily upon her for a moment, but then she realised she had not responded to Mrs Latimer.
‘I must ask you to forgive me, ma’am. My attention is sorely lacking.’ Elizabeth turned in her seat.
‘My husband took possession of most of my fortune, though not all of it. Sometimes he forgets, so intent is he upon settling
Eleanor.’ Mrs Latimer smiled at Elizabeth. ‘He pays my wishes very little mind, but I shall know when I need to make a stand. But, there,’ she patted Elizabeth’s hands where they rested in her lap. ‘You must take no notice of my ramblings, Miss Bennet.’
Elizabeth smiled; she liked Mrs Latimer very much. She followed the lady’s gaze across the room to where Mr Latimer was summoning his daughter to his side, and the smile faded quickly.
‘My daughter and I, we are close. I cannot say the same for her relationship with her father.’ The lady sighed, then turned her warm smile on Elizabeth. ‘But what of you?’
‘Quite the opposite, ma’am. I grew up very close to Papa, but Mama and I were less so.’
‘Were?’
‘Indeed; my mother passed away about a year ago.’
‘I am sorry to hear it, my dear. Yet you say you were not overly close?’
Elizabeth cast her mind back to when her mother was alive. ‘I did love Mama, but she and I are... were, so very dissimilar.’ She smiled at Mrs Latimer. ‘Our approach to life was not the same.’
‘But your father lives yet, I trust?’
‘Yes, he is... travelling, but should return directly.’ Elizabeth bit her lip. What if her father had come to some harm? What if this letter from Wickham was a threat to him in some way, connected to his rapid and unexplained departure?
‘Then I shall look forward to meeting him on his return.’ Mrs Latimer’s gaze drifted around the room. ‘Everyone here has such warm and happy manners. I am hoping it will be good for Eleanor.’ She smiled ruefully at Elizabeth. ‘She did not wish to come; she has spent too much time in society quite unlike this, and I suspect she anticipated more of the same. She will no doubt find herself ill-equipped to adjust.’
Elizabeth followed Mrs Latimer’s gaze again, which had settled upon her daughter. To her surprise, Eleanor Latimer was looking straight at her across the room, paying no attention to the conversation around her. Tentatively, Elizabeth smiled at her. Unsurprisingly, the lady did not smile in return, but she inclined her head in acknowledgement.
‘I hope you will not judge her too harshly, Miss Bennet.’
Elizabeth glanced enquiringly at Mrs Latimer. What could she mean? Could she know how she envied her daughter, not for her fortune or position in society, but for being Mr Darcy’s choice?
‘You are far richer, my dear, than you realise.’ The lady’s gaze returned to her daughter. ‘I fear Eleanor has forgotten life should be a pleasure, not a trial.’
~o0o~
Sleep evaded Elizabeth upon retiring for the night. When she was not puzzling over Mrs Latimer’s words and her revelations about her daughter, she was filled with sadness over the imminent announcement between Eleanor Latimer and Mr Darcy. Not only would it remove all hope, but surely their gradually developing rapport would draw to an immediate close?
Stirring restlessly, Elizabeth turned on her side, burrowing her head into her pillow. She could not rid herself of the image of Mr Darcy, Miss Latimer on his arm, walking in the gardens prior to dinner. How well they had looked together, the lady’s tall frame complementing the gentleman’s height and breadth of shoulder. From her window, it had been impossible to tell the mood of either, but they clearly were in a conversation of sorts. Did the lady open up when Mr Darcy was with her and they were away from her father’s assessing eye? Was she charming, sharing intelligent conversation with him, smiling, even? He had bestowed many a smile upon Elizabeth in recent days, and had he not placed a kiss upon her cheek?
Feeling her skin warm, Elizabeth rolled onto her back. It was so much more unbearable than she had imagined. With a frustrated sigh, she sat up. This would not do! She must not think of him in such a way. Whatever feelings he may retain for her, Mr Darcy had made his choice, and she was not it.
A sharp pain lanced her breast at such a thought, and Elizabeth swung her legs out of bed and reached for her candle, hurrying over to light it from the embers of the fire.
She straightened up and placed the candleholder on the mantel, but as she did so, the glow from the flame fell upon Wickham’s letter. Shivering, she glanced at the fire. There was no chance of reviving it fully until the maid came to re-set the grate, and she grabbed a thick shawl from the end of the bed, wrapping it around her shoulders.
Elizabeth stared at the letter. Why would Wickham contact her father? How had he learned of their new address and from whom? The black lettering gave no answers, merely taunted her with its slanting, flamboyant style.
She crossed over to the window, but despite the moonlight, saw nothing to distract her interminable thoughts and blowing out a frustrated breath, she headed for the door and tugged it open. Looking out onto the dimly lit landing, she sighed. One could hardly go wandering the hallways looking for distraction at this time of night! If only her sister were awake, but Jane had fallen into a deep slumber earlier.
About to close the door again, Elizabeth stopped, then listened keenly. There were voices drifting along the corridor towards her from somewhere, and recognising them, she pulled her shawl more tightly about her shoulders and stepped out into the hallway.
Holding her candle aloft, Elizabeth hurried along and turned onto the galleried landing from which the central staircase descended. To her surprise, she beheld the flicker of a lamp, then realised it was held aloft by Olivia, who was deep in discussion with her sister as they reached the top of the stairs. They did not see her until almost upon her, but then there was an audible gasp.
‘Miss Elizabeth!’ Olivia stared at her, wide-eyed.
‘We did not expect... we...’ Viola’s voice petered out as she met Elizabeth’s enquiring look.
‘Might I ask what you have been doing?’ Worried as she was by Wickham’s letter, she was almost equally disturbed to note the twins were dressed for being out in the grounds. ‘It is gone midnight!’
‘The moon is full; we saw a movement by the edge of the woods, and we were convinced of its being the ghostly figure we saw earlier.’
‘You went out in the dark—into the woods—alone? Girls, you must not! What would your brother say if he knew?’
‘He does know,’ Elizabeth turned to look down the stairs to see Bingley climbing them two at a time. ‘And he is most seriously displeased!’
He turned as severe a gaze as he could summon upon the twins. ‘Girls, what were you thinking?’
‘We were not afraid!’ Viola fixed her brother with a firm look. ‘We may be small in stature, but we are fierce warriors when we must be!’
Bingley sighed. ‘I am sure you both are; quite fierce indeed. But do heed my warning, please. If Darcy had not been at the window of his study just now, heaven knows what may have become of you! The colonel was extremely dismayed. He feels he has encouraged you and could not speak enough of his regret for humouring you both. You owe him an apology on the morrow for such misuse of his indulgence.’
Suitably chastised, the girls nodded, then took their leave of Elizabeth in a subdued manner. Bingley wished her goodnight before following them back along the landing towards the guest wing, and they soon faded from sight. Remaining as she was until she heard their doors close, Elizabeth then turned back to her own chamber.
Raising the candle, she studied the clock once more. The hour was late, but it sounded like Mr Darcy and his cousin were still downstairs. Walking over to the fireplace, Elizabeth picked up the letter and balanced it on her palm. It was light in weight and doubtless light in content. Yet she would know what it contained and was not prepared to wait until morning. Whatever Mr Darcy’s intentions were, he had promised her protection, and she had no reason to doubt his sincerity.
Quickly changing into a simple shift dress which had no complicated fastenings, Elizabeth donned her slippers and tied her hair back neatly with a ribbon. Wrapping a lighter shawl about her shoulders, she grabbed the letter from the mantel and went out onto the landing.
There was no sign of anyone as she reached the staircase, and she d
escended in haste before hurrying along the hallway towards Mr Darcy’s study. The corridors were still lit, and she paused outside the door. Yes, she could definitely hear voices from within. Elizabeth drew in a steadying breath, then stepped forward and knocked firmly.
Chapter Forty-Eight
The tap on the door silenced both gentlemen in the study, but when no one entered, Darcy walked over to pull it open. ‘Bingley, did you forget... Miss Elizabeth!’
Swinging the door wide, Darcy stared in surprise. ‘Is something wrong? Are you in need of assistance?’
Elizabeth shook her head. ‘I am perfectly well, sir. I saw Mr Bingley with his sisters just now.’ She waved a hand back along the hallway. ‘It was evident from his words you and your cousin were still downstairs.’ She looked at him beseechingly, and Darcy stood aside to usher her into the room. It was not difficult to surmise what kept her from peaceful repose.
The colonel got to his feet as she entered and bowed quickly. ‘Darcy could hardly believe his eyes when he saw the twins scampering across the lawn just now. It is fortunate they were waylaid!’
‘Mr Bingley is doing his best to censure them.’ Elizabeth glanced between the two gentlemen. ‘Please excuse the intrusion so late at night. I should not have come.’
‘Not at all.’ The colonel smiled at Elizabeth, his glance dropping to the paper clasped in her hand. Darcy exchanged a look with him, then steered Elizabeth into a chair before retaking his own. She looked pale and anxious, and his heart ached for her as he gestured towards the letter.
‘Have you read it?’
‘Not yet; but I find I can bear the suspense no longer. I have to know what it contains.’ She turned the letter over in her hand, then raised troubled eyes to Darcy. ‘I am not lacking in courage, sir, but as you and your cousin know about it, I wished for you both to share in its content. I cannot imagine how anything from Wickham’s hand to my father could be benign.’
The colonel grunted. ‘We are, sadly, both experienced in Wickham’s propensity for nefarious deeds and their consequences. Perhaps one of these days he will surprise us and it will turn out he is offering to do good in some way or other.’
A Quest for Mr Darcy Page 31