A Quest for Mr Darcy

by Cassandra Grafton

  Both had the desired effect, however, in rousing him, and Darcy sat up straighter in the chair, trying to gather his bewildered thoughts. Then, he frowned. ‘What happened to your coat?’

  ‘It is a long story. It can wait. Yours cannot; come on, Darce. Spill the beans.’

  ‘I would if I only knew how to.’ Getting to his feet, Darcy resumed his pacing. ‘I am struggling to comprehend what I have seen, to attribute any sense to it.’

  Turning on his heel, he cast his cousin a glance as he passed him again. ‘I have made a rather singular discovery.’ Darcy drew in a shallow breath, then turned around to face the colonel. ‘I happened upon a hooded figure near Kympton; chased it through dense woodland—hence this.’ Darcy gestured at his face. ‘

  The colonel shook his head. ‘You should have taken more care. Was it our suspected poacher? They carry weapons, Darce!’

  ‘I did not think; I felt compelled to follow. But the figure tripped; fell to the ground, and then we were face to face. I may not fully comprehend it yet, but I do know the truth of what I saw.’ Darcy drew in another shallow breath.

  ‘What did you see—who was he?’

  Darcy shook his head. ‘She; it was a woman, Richard; a mere girl.’

  ‘Good Lord!’

  ‘Indeed. But there is more,’ Darcy swallowed hard as he met his cousin's astonished eye. ‘This particular girl I know to be dead.’

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  The colonel stared at Darcy as though he had run mad, and Darcy could not blame him. Had he not been wondering if it were truly so himself?

  ‘A dead woman—girl?’ Pushing a hand through his hair, the colonel looked away, then back at his cousin, his gaze narrowing. ‘Of whom do you speak?’

  ‘One who should be dead, yet she lives and breathes as surely as you or I; as surely as her sisters do.’ The words sounded nonsensical when spoken aloud.

  ‘Her sisters?’ The colonel stared at him incredulously, then walked over to the window before swinging around. ‘You are saying you caught sight of someone in the woodland near Kympton church and it is the sister of the Miss Bennets, the one whom we all believed to have died? The one upon whose grave I laid flowers but two weeks ago?’

  It could not be; yet it was. ‘The very same. There is something foul afoot here, and I am having the devil of a time seeing my way through to what it is.’

  ‘But it makes no sense!’

  Darcy released a frustrated breath. ‘Do you not think I comprehend that?’

  They stared at each other in silence for a moment. Then, the colonel walked over to stand before Darcy. ‘If you are adamant it was the girl, then so it was. You may be getting on a bit, Darce, but you have not yet lost full command of your faculties.’

  ‘You are such a comfort, Cousin.’

  ‘Well do I know it. So? Did you question her?’

  Darcy shook his head. ‘I had no chance. I was so taken aback; she gained a moment on me and fled. I pursued her again, but lost her.’

  ‘What then is your plan? You have formulated a plan, have you not?’

  ‘Not yet; I can barely think straight, though I know something must be done.’ Darcy glanced at the clock on the wall. ‘We need to enlist Bingley’s help directly.’

  ‘Why?’

  Darcy walked over to the door, then turned to face his cousin. ‘We have to find this girl, but we have to be discreet. If Latimer were to discover...’ Darcy’s skin went cold at the thought.

  ‘Good Lord!’ The colonel walked across the room to join him. ‘He must be kept entirely in the dark at all costs!’

  They crossed the yard, Darcy thanking his steward for the use of his office as they passed him, then strode on in silence, down the stone driveway and passing through the gate into the grounds and out of sight and hearing of anyone.

  ‘This means I cannot enlist the help of Rivers or any of the estate workers. There are only three of us who can be in involved in this matter, Cousin. Bingley knows what Miss Lydia Bennet looks like...’ Darcy came to a halt, recalling what he had seen. ‘Though I will own, the girl was almost waif-like, her attire dishevelled – she no longer bore the look of a Miss Bennet of Longbourn.’

  ‘She must have been shocked to be so nearly caught.’

  ‘More than that – there was fear in her countenance.’

  The colonel raised a brow. ‘Fear?’

  ‘Of discovery, perhaps?’

  ‘You may be right, but even that defies comprehension. From whom must she conceal herself?’ The colonel glanced at Darcy as they began to walk again. ‘And you are quite certain, Darcy? Without question, it is she?’

  ‘Cousin, I have no doubt. Her appearance is altered, yes, and my acquaintance with her was limited, but it was not only I who recognised her; she knew me at once—I saw it in her face.’

  ~o0o~

  When Elizabeth had returned to the house, she had bumped into Mrs Reynolds, who informed her water was being sent up for Miss Latimer, that she might bathe, and so she returned to her chamber to tidy herself and wait a while.

  She tried to occupy herself with a book, but with her thoughts so entirely upon Mr Darcy, she instead spent the best part of a half hour staring out of her window into the grounds, hoping to see some sign of him, but to no avail.

  As the clock on the mantel struck the hour, Elizabeth swung around. Surely it would now be acceptable to call upon Miss Latimer? She did not relish meeting again with her father, but the courtesy of asking after the lady overruled any qualms she had, and she walked out into the hallway.

  There was no one about, and Elizabeth soon emerged onto the main landing, but barely had she taken two steps when she was hailed from the staircase.

  ‘Miss Bennet!’ Mrs Latimer was near the top of the stairs, and Elizabeth walked on to join her. ‘I am just returning to Eleanor.’

  ‘I had hoped to call upon Miss Latimer—will she be amenable to a visitor?’

  ‘That is exactly as I had hoped, my dear.’ They fell into step together. ‘My husband did mention your being present during this unfortunate happening.’

  ‘Yes; I trust your daughter is not unduly distressed by it. It must have come as quite a shock.’

  ‘Not all shocks are bad for one.’ Mrs Latimer laughed lightly. ‘It does one good now and again to have a little shake up, does it not?’

  Elizabeth was unsure of the lady’s meaning, but she smiled nonetheless.

  ‘This way, my dear.’ They turned their steps down the hallway leading to the guest wing. ‘Eleanor has been in need of something to rouse her from her stupor for some time. Mr Latimer exacerbates the situation, of course, little does he realise.’

  ‘I am sorry to hear it.’ Though not surprised, mused Elizabeth.

  ‘Mine is precisely the marriage my daughter resists whilst her father so assiduously seeks it for her.’ The lady smiled, but Elizabeth detected some sadness in it. ‘I never possessed a handsome face, only a handsome fortune. You may think a small dowry a burden, my dear, but I found the opposite to be true.’

  Mulling over the small sum available to whoever was prepared to take her for it, Elizabeth could not help but smile, but it faded slowly as she recalled Mr Darcy’s proposal. He had wished to marry her, despite her lack of dowry, had he not?

  ‘I was betrothed on my 18th birthday,’ Mrs Latimer continued, ‘and wed but a month later, with little say in the matter. Eleanor is our only surviving child, and I will own to doting on her. Her father, however, paid her little mind as she grew up. It was not until she came out that he took it upon himself to take charge of her life. He considers himself a good father for placing a large dowry on her and, in his eyes, permitting her some element of choice in her partner in life.’

  The lady drew their steps to a halt beside a set of doors and turned to face Elizabeth.

  ‘Mr Darcy is not her choice, my dear. He is—was—her father’s.’ She sighed. ‘Of course, he had convinced himself Eleanor was Mr Darcy’s choice too.’
There was a twinkle in Mrs Latimer’s eye as she turned to open the door. ‘And Mr Darcy was not an unpalatable one, when all is said and done.’

  Elizabeth stared after the lady, her interest at its height. Did she imply something had gone awry with her husband’s hopes for securing Mr Darcy? Could any of this account for his need to escape on his mount earlier?

  Trying to rein in a swirl of hope, Elizabeth followed Mrs Latimer into the suite of rooms, relieved to see no sign of Mr Latimer.

  ‘I suggested to my husband he go for a walk.’ The gleam in Mrs Latimer’s eye was even more pronounced. ‘I find if he breathes some fresh air in between his bouts of ill temper, it has a calming effect. I counselled him not to return to the house until it was so; I suspect it will be a walk of some duration.’

  She walked over to tap upon one of several doors, opening it and ushering Elizabeth inside. ‘You have a visitor, my dear. Miss Elizabeth Bennet has come to enquire after you.’

  To Elizabeth’s dismay, Mrs Latimer then excused herself, closing the door as she went, and she turned to look at Eleanor Latimer, who eyed her across the room from her chair beside the hearth. A maid had been building up the fire, and she slipped away through the servant’s door as Elizabeth approached. The lady was dressed once more in dry clothing, a shawl about her shoulders and her hair—which had clearly been washed and brushed—lay in damp tendrils about her face.

  Elizabeth pinned a smile on her face. ‘I trust you have not suffered too badly for the unfortunate incident, ma’am. I truly am sorry.’

  There was no response for a moment, and Elizabeth stood awkwardly, uncertain what else to say. But then, Miss Latimer indicated the chair opposite.

  ‘Please; be seated.’

  Elizabeth sank gratefully into the chair.

  ‘Why are you sorry? My father is adamant the young Miss Bingleys are responsible.’

  Elizabeth shook her head. ‘I do not feel they alone are at fault. You see, I suspect the idea of showering someone with water came from me. Not that I mentioned any of your family,’ she added quickly as the lady raised a surprised brow. ‘The twins are easily influenced, and I had told them about it happening to... someone I know.’

  Before Miss Latimer could respond, the door opened again, much to Elizabeth’s relief, and she turned around in her seat.

  ‘You have more visitors, my dear. Is this not nice?’ Mrs Latimer stood aside, and Olivia and Viola came into the room, their hands behind their backs. They bobbed identical curtseys, then skipped across to where the ladies sat and turned their warm smiles upon Miss Latimer, who eyed them warily.

  ‘We have come to apologise, Miss Latimer,’ began Olivia.

  ‘Indeed.’ Viola’s blond curls bounced up and down as she nodded vigorously. ‘We never meant for you to get wet, did we ‘Livia?’

  ‘We did not; it is all a big mistake.’

  Viola nodded again and the lady’s eyes widened. ‘Most indubitably! The water was meant for your father, you see!’

  A smothered noise came from Mrs Latimer, who then cleared her throat. ‘Do you not have something for Eleanor, my dears?’

  ‘Oh, yes!’ Olivia brought her arm round with a flourish and held out a small bunch of flowers, neatly tied with a piece of satin ribbon. ‘We picked these especially for you, Miss Latimer.’

  ‘Pickering guided our choice—he is the head gardener—have you met him?’ Viola looked at the lady expectantly and Miss Latimer slowly moved her head from side to side, her gaze transfixed upon her young visitors. ‘He is very nice. His wife makes the most delicious hot cakes, did you know?’

  ‘Do not be silly, Viola. How can Miss Latimer know such a thing if she has never met them?’ Olivia rolled her eyes, then turned back to the lady. ‘We will ask her to make some for you.’

  ‘I have something for you as well.’ Viola brought her own arm around. In her hand were two sheets of paper, taken, or so Elizabeth surmised, from her sketching book. She held the first one out to Miss Latimer, who looked down at it. ‘It is the newest mare in the stables. She is most obliging when I wish to sketch her.’ Viola smiled kindly at the lady, then added. ‘I believe you are fond of horses?’

  ‘There. That is nice, is it not?’ Mrs Latimer sent her daughter an encouraging look, and she reached out to take the drawing.

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘You are most welcome, ma’am.’ Viola beamed at her, then glanced down at the second piece of paper. ‘I thought you might like this too.’ She thrust it into the lady’s hand, who stared at it for a second; then, her gaze flew to her mother’s. ‘I—it is...’

  ‘Your Papa, is it not?’ Olivia smiled. ‘Viola has a collection. She will add you to it if you wish. Does not your father make a fine ass?’

  Elizabeth bit her lip, desperate to prevent her laugh from escaping, her gaze moving from the stunned expression on the lady’s face to the twins’ happily smiling ones. Then, she caught Mrs Latimer’s eye and she nodded.

  ‘My dears,’ the lady stepped forward. ‘That is so kind of you both; would you be so good as to call upon Eleanor again? She needs a little rest now, if she is to be well enough for the ball later.’

  ‘You must tell us all about the ball on the morrow, Miss Latimer.’ Olivia begged her, and then, before anyone realised what she was doing, she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around the startled lady in a hug.

  ‘And we will show you the story we are writing and illustrating!’ Viola took her sister’s place, giving Miss Latimer a second embrace, before stepping back.

  Eleanor Latimer said nothing, only stared at the twins as though she had never encountered anyone quite like them before, which likely she had not.

  Getting to her feet as the twins turned away, Elizabeth was waved back into her chair. ‘Remain a little longer, if you will, Miss Bennet. I will show the Miss Bingleys out.’

  Mrs Latimer followed the girls from the room, and Elizabeth turned warily to look at Miss Latimer. Surely, after such an onslaught, she would not wish for any further company? Besides, Elizabeth wanted nothing more than to find Georgiana. It was she who had first opened her eyes to her brother’s intentions regarding the lady. Surely she would know if there had been such a significant alteration?

  Eleanor Latimer’s gaze was fixed upon the flowers she held. It was a lovely, informal mix of late-flowering blooms from Pemberley’s walled garden, and a smile slowly touched her lips as she beheld them.

  Unable to help herself, Elizabeth smiled too. ‘I have not seen you smile before, Miss Latimer.’

  She raised her eyes, and Elizabeth could detect wetness on her lashes. ‘I think I had forgot how.’ She attempted another, tremulous smile, but as she did so, tears began to spill over and flow down her cheeks in earnest.

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Whilst they awaited Bingley, a footman having been sent to find him, Darcy and the colonel talked through what little they knew, growing none the wiser for it. Deciding it was time for medicinal aid, the colonel walked over to pour them each a tot of brandy just as the door was tapped, opening to reveal Bingley.

  ‘You wished to see me, Darcy?’ He closed the door, but it took barely a second for him to register the thick atmosphere and both gentlemen’s serious expressions. ‘What on earth is the matter? You look as though someone has died!’

  ‘Quite the reverse, Bingley. Here,’ The colonel poured him a tot as well. ‘Pull up a chair – you may need this.’ He thrust the glass into Bingley’s hand and returned to his seat opposite Darcy’s desk.

  Not wanting to speculate on how Bingley might react to his news, Darcy plunged in and related his tale of his encounter with the hooded figure, the subsequent chase, what he had discovered and then Miss Bennet’s escape from him. When he had done, a heavy silence fell upon the room, and he eyed the pale features of his friend, whose air and countenance were indicative of his shock and bewilderment.

  ‘This is impossible!’ Bingley shook his head in denial. ‘Yet I can see you are in e
arnest, Darcy; of course you are. Yet how can this be? Miss Lydia has been dead these twelve months!’ Bingley stared wide-eyed from Darcy to the colonel and back again.

  ‘I know, Bingley. I believed it as much as you, as much as the sexton in Longbourn churchyard believed it. Yet I am speaking the truth. The youngest Miss Bennet is alive.’

  Bingley took a sip from his glass and shuddered. ‘Unfathomable. And she has run off, who knows where.’ He threw Darcy an appalled look. ‘I cannot tell Miss Bennet! What is there to tell her, with no sister to reunite her with?’

  Darcy had no answer, nor for how deeply any of it might impact his tentative relationship with Elizabeth.

  Bingley got quickly to his feet. ‘Darcy, we must do something. Miss Bennet suffered badly for the loss; if there is any way to bring her sister back to her family, it must be done.’

  ‘Be warned, Bingley.’ The colonel shook his head. ‘This young girl has fallen on hard, possibly bad, times. It may be restoring her to her family is not an option.’

  ‘Oh Lord. What a mess.’ Bingley ran a hand through his hair. ‘What is to be done, then?’

  Darcy shrugged. ‘The only thing we can do is try to find Miss Lydia Bennet again. She should be able to provide us with answers. Until that happens, we cannot discern what the right path for her will be.’

  The colonel let out a huff of breath. ‘Something has drawn her here, but likewise, something must be holding her back. Why else would she not approach her family? If only Bennet were here; where the hell has he gone?’

  Bingley sank back into his chair. ‘Do you think he knows? About his daughter being alive, I mean?’

  Darcy frowned. What was it Bennet had said on Saturday, something about families and secrets? ‘He may.’

  The colonel raised a brow. ‘And what of the Miss Bennets?’