A Quest for Mr Darcy

by Cassandra Grafton

Darcy and Bingley looked at each other and simultaneously shook their heads.

  ‘I am adamant Miss Bennet knows nothing.’ Bingley sighed. ‘She has spoken to me of her sadness over the loss of her mother and sister. It was genuine, I have no doubt of that.’

  ‘Elizabeth knows nothing either.’ Darcy was blind to having referred to the lady by her name, as he was to the glance exchanged between his cousin and his friend, one amused, the other surprised, but with the discussion so sombre, nothing was said.

  ‘I wonder how long the girl has been here in Derbyshire.’ Bingley took another cautious sip from his glass. ‘In the woods, even.’

  Darcy leaned back in his chair. ‘And we thought we had an incompetent poacher, Cousin—raiding chicken runs and kitchen gardens instead of setting traps and shooting game.’

  The colonel grunted. ‘It accounts for Rivers claiming the fires were ill made.’ Then, he frowned. ‘How does this connect to Wickham, though, and his threats? I find it hard to believe it a coincidence.’

  Bingley’s brows shot up. ‘Wickham?’ He turned to Darcy. ‘Your old adversary, the Militia man believed to have run off with Miss Lydia Bennet?’

  ‘The very same.’ Colonel Fitzwilliam and Darcy exchanged a look. ‘Tell him, Darcy. Show him the letter. We are too few, and if Bingley can be trusted with today’s intelligence, then he needs to understand all we have discovered.’

  Darcy reached for the key to his desk drawer, and it took Bingley barely a minute to take in the content of the letter, disgust consuming his features as he dropped it back onto the desk.

  ‘What on earth is his intention? What is the hold he has over Bennet?’

  ‘We had no notion upon first reading it.’ Darcy picked the letter up and stared at the familiar, taunting hand. Then, he raised his eyes to his cousin and his friend. ‘I suspect Miss Lydia Bennet may be the connection.’

  ‘Then our priority is to find her, Darce.’ The colonel got up and walked over to return his empty glass to the drinks tray.

  ‘You do not think...’ Both Darcy and the colonel looked to Bingley. ‘You do not think Wickham is also out there? In the woods?’

  ‘There is every indication he is not; the postmark of his letter was Buxton, and it is known Bennet had a matter of business to attend in the town last week.’ Darcy returned the letter to the drawer and turned the key. ‘It is clear this is not the first sum Wickham has demanded from him.’

  ‘We have to proceed with caution. Nothing of this can be spoken of with the Miss Bennets yet. You do both understand?’ The colonel looked from his cousin to Bingley, who both exchanged a glance.

  Then, Bingley nodded. ‘I could not bring myself to speak of it to Miss Bennet; not unless we find the girl.’

  ‘Darcy?’

  ‘I comprehend the reasoning, but I do not like the disguise.’ How was he to keep this from Elizabeth? Had he even the right to?

  The colonel sent him an understanding look. ‘I know you do not; but we must keep this intelligence close for now; yes?’

  Darcy acknowledged the sense of his cousin’s advice. He was right; they must keep this to themselves for the present. ‘So be it.’

  The colonel gathered the remaining glasses and added them to the tray, and Bingley stood up.

  ‘When do we begin to look for her?’ Bingley glanced over to the window. ‘It will be light for a while longer.’

  ‘I think it best to let things lie until the morning.’ The colonel shrugged. ‘She will not go far, and will be too on her guard after today’s near miss.’

  Bingley was frowning. ‘But what if she leaves the district?’

  ‘If that is her only recourse, she will already be gone, but I doubt very much it is the case.’

  Darcy nodded. ‘Something brought her here, Bingley, and whatever it was, there is no reason to suppose such a purpose has gone; besides, she did not look as though she were in funds or robust health. I do not think she has either the resources or the strength to go far.’

  ‘Well, gentlemen,’ Colonel Fitzwilliam walked over to the door, then turned to face them. ‘We had best not over-indulge this evening at the ball. At first light, it seems we are destined to be sleuthing in the woods between Pemberley and Kympton.’

  ‘The ball!’ Bingley turned to his friend. ‘We must attend, I suppose.’

  ‘It is essential no hint of anything untoward reaches the others; thus we must keep our commitments as they stand.’ A rush of relief filled Darcy in the midst of his utter bewilderment. The thought of dancing the first set with Elizabeth was the only thing keeping him sane right now.

  Bingley looked from Darcy to his cousin. ‘You have my word, I will keep my own counsel on this; going forward, you have my unquestioning support.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Darcy hesitated. ‘We must keep ourselves well shielded from Latimer’s prying eyes, Bingley.’

  The colonel released a short laugh. ‘I would not be concerned. I doubt he has forgotten this morning and will be too focused on today's little drama with the twins.’

  ‘The twins? What have they done now?’ Bingley looked horrified, and the colonel clapped him on the shoulder as he joined him by the door.

  ‘I shall regale you as we walk.’ He winked at Darcy and made to leave, but then he turned back and pointed at his cousin’s cheek.

  ‘You had best get Thornton to work some of his magic on that. You are attending a ball in a matter of hours, and you will not be fit to be presented to the lady.’

  ~o0o~

  Once she had begun to weep, it seemed Eleanor Latimer had neither the ability nor the desire to stop, and Elizabeth hurried to her side, placing an arm about her shoulders.

  ‘Please do not cry, Miss Latimer! You have had a shock, to be certain, but you must not let it affect you so.’

  The lady said nothing as the tears continued to flow down her cheeks, and Elizabeth bit back on suggesting to her if she did not cease, she would soon be as wet as when she left the stables.

  ‘I will fetch your Mama.’

  Elizabeth crossed the room and pulled open the door. Mrs Latimer was in the sitting room alone, and she smiled as she got to her feet.

  ‘Please, Mrs Latimer, will you come to your daughter? She is... she seems quite distraught.’

  The lady walked past Elizabeth into the room. ‘Oh my dear girl!’ She hurried over to where Eleanor Latimer remained in her seat; she was almost sobbing now, her breath coming in short gasps, and not wishing to embarrass her further, Elizabeth quietly took her leave, closing the door upon them.

  She leaned back against it with a sigh. She could not understand such a reaction to the day’s events, unless... had the warmth of the twins once again taken someone by surprise, so much so it had unleashed long suppressed emotions?

  Straightening up, Elizabeth walked across the room and let herself out onto the landing. She would go and speak to Mrs Reynolds to see if some calming tea and a few special delicacies could be sent up.

  Elizabeth saw no one as she crossed the main entrance hall and headed for the door behind the stairs leading to the service areas, though voices drifting out from the drawing room indicated both Georgiana and Jane had returned from their respective outings.

  Mrs Reynolds was not in her room, nor was she in the kitchen, though a maid said she had been there but five minutes ago, and Elizabeth turned about as she stood in the corridor surveying the line of doors, wondering where she might be. She supposed she could ask Cook directly if something could be sent up, but unsure of the hierarchy, she did not wish to cause any trouble or to overstep a boundary. Mrs Reynolds had always been her intermediary, had she not?

  Before she could deliberate further, however, a door to her right swung open and the lady herself appeared.

  ‘Miss Bennet! Is there anything I can do for you?’

  ‘I do hope so. I have just come from Miss Latimer’s room. She is a little distressed, quite overcome, in fact, and I wondered if some tea and perhaps a delicacy or two cou
ld be sent up?’

  ‘Poor dear! I will fetch some of my special chamomile for her, and Mrs Marchant has been busy preparing all sorts of fancies for Miss Georgiana and the Miss Bingleys to indulge in this evening. I am sure she can spare some.’ She smiled warmly at Elizabeth, then pushed open the door she had just come through. ‘By return, you may be able to assist me, Miss Bennet.’

  Curious, Elizabeth entered the room, Mrs Reynolds following in her wake. It was a stillroom of sorts, with various potions and creams in silver-topped bottles stacked neatly on shelves, a large stone sink and in the centre, a sturdy wooden table. Seated upon it, his discarded coat across his lap, was Mr Darcy.

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  Darcy looked up as Mrs Reynolds ushered Elizabeth into the room, then got to his feet, torn between embarrassment and surprise as he made to put on his coat.

  ‘Now you just sit back down, Master Fitzwilliam.’ Mrs Reynolds whipped the coat from Darcy’s hands and laid it across a chair, and his eye caught Elizabeth’s. She looked equally embarrassed but also amused. ‘I believe Miss Bennet is made of finer mettle than to be rendered faint at the sight of a gentleman in his shirt sleeves.’

  ‘It is the second occurrence in almost as many hours, Mrs Reynolds,’ Elizabeth turned to the lady with a smile. ‘The good colonel rendered Miss Latimer the service of his coat earlier, and I believe I have emerged unscathed.’

  ‘There, sir,’ the housekeeper addressed Darcy, who eyed the two ladies before him warily. ‘I knew I was right about Miss Bennet all along. Now,’ she turned to the table where there were some neatly cut pieces of lint. ‘If you would be so good as to oblige, ma’am. I will speak to Mrs Marchant about your request and fetch the tincture she is warming. The master will persist in not keeping the compress in place.’

  Darcy’s startled gaze met Elizabeth’s, but neither of them said a word as Mrs Reynolds picked up a small piece of lint, placed it over the cut in his cheek and then took Elizabeth’s hand, placing her fingers on it.

  ‘Keep it in place, ma’am. He does not take sufficient care and it had begun to bleed again.’ With that, she left the room, leaving the door ajar as a thick silence filled the air.

  Having not seen Elizabeth since his discovery in the woodland, all Darcy could think of at first was the secret he concealed from her and how he wished he did not. As he became more conscious, however, of how close she stood by necessity, he could feel his attention being drawn to the lady herself.

  He cleared his throat and threw Elizabeth a quick glance. She did not seem overly disturbed, but she was frowning, her eye fixed upon the compress. Then, she raised her eyes to him, and Darcy found himself completely entranced by this rare opportunity to study her at such close quarters. Her skin held an almost luminous quality, the chestnut curls framed her face charmingly, and he could see flecks of gold in her expressive, brown eyes...

  ‘Mr Darcy?’

  He started, mortified at having been caught staring so blatantly.

  ‘What is this?’ Elizabeth did not seem overwhelmed at all, but gestured with her other hand towards his cheek. ‘How is it you are wounded thus?’

  ‘It is of little consequence; a mere scratch. Mrs Reynolds has tended my scrapes since I was a small child. When Thornton came seeking one of her remedies, she dismissed him out of hand and insisted I come to her.’

  ‘You have not answered my question, sir.’

  Darcy held her gaze. Then, he smiled faintly. ‘No – I have not. I was caught unaware by a branch.’

  ‘I see.’ Elizabeth lifted the lint to inspect the cut before replacing it and pressing a little more firmly. ‘You will appear quite the dashing hero at the ball, sir, though you may need to fabricate a more daring tale than being beaten by a recalcitrant bough!’

  Darcy did not wish to mull upon the reason for his chase through the low hanging branches. He drew in a shallow breath, conscious of the continued pressure of Elizabeth’s fingers against his cheek. He knew Mrs Reynolds would return at any moment, and besides, he had no intention of being anything but a gentleman. He wanted Elizabeth to respect him, to fall in love with him, not give him a corresponding mark on his opposite cheek. Yet the temptation to indicate something of his affection for her was almost more than he could bear.

  Darcy focused on the opposite wall, where a wide shelf held all manner of items: a pestle and mortar, some measures and several of the silver-topped bottles. ‘For the avoidance of doubt, I hope you comprehend there is only one before whom I would wish to appear a hero.’ He spoke quietly, but he knew from her stillness she heard his words. ‘If I could win that lady over, I would desire the approbation of no other person.’

  Elizabeth stared at him but said nothing. ‘You do comprehend my meaning, Miss Elizabeth?’ Darcy hesitated, conscious of footsteps in the corridor, but before more could be said, Mrs Reynolds bustled into the room, a small dish in her hand.

  ‘There now, Miss Bennet, if you would step back whilst I administer.’

  It took little more than a few seconds for the salve to be applied, and thereafter his housekeeper declared him treated for the time being. ‘The bleeding has stopped, and it will be the morrow before the bruising comes out. You will do for now.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘You are welcome, Master Fitzwilliam.’ Mrs Reynolds turned to Elizabeth. ‘I have never had a cross word from him, man or boy, but he is such a fidget when he has little patience with things. I thank you for your assistance, ma’am. Now, be off with you both; I will see to tea being sent up to Miss Latimer.’ With that, she sailed from the room as Darcy picked up his coat and shrugged into it.

  ‘A fidget, sir?’ Elizabeth’s eyes were amused, and a reluctant smile touched his lips. ‘I never would have thought it of you.’

  ‘Mrs Reynolds comprehends things about me even I do not understand!’

  They walked along the corridor towards the door into the main hall, and as they reached it, Elizabeth turned to face him. She lifted a hand slowly as though she would touch the gash on his cheek, before letting it fall to her side.

  ‘Forgive me; your housekeeper will not thank me for undoing all her work to cleanse the wound.’

  Caring not for the implications, Darcy boldly reached down and took her hand in his. ‘I do not care.’

  ‘But you should, sir. Besides, we cannot have you unfit for the ball. Would you have me sit out the opening set for want of a partner?’

  The shame of his first meeting with Elizabeth in Hertfordshire descended upon him, and Darcy ran a hand across his forehead. His other hand she had yet to give up, and it was a great comfort.

  ‘No – no, I would not.’

  ‘Well then, sir.’ Elizabeth made to turn towards the door, but he held it shut; just one second longer, he pleaded with himself. Moments like this were too precious, but with the mystery of Lydia Bennet hanging between them like an invisible veil, he felt it all too keenly.

  Her gaze dropped to their clasped hands, neither clad in gloves. It was an intimacy rarely experienced, and Darcy could only assume it accounted for the sudden rush of colour into Elizabeth’s cheeks.

  Then, she looked up and smiled and his heart began to race in his chest. Slowly, she raised his hand and pressed a kiss upon it before releasing it.

  ‘If you will excuse me, sir.’ Elizabeth gestured towards the door. ‘I must find my sister.’

  ~o0o~

  Slipping through the now open doorway, Elizabeth hurried across the entrance hall towards the drawing room. She paused by the double doors and drew in a calming breath, willing the colour to fade from her cheeks. Had she truly done that?

  Unable to help herself, she glanced over her shoulder before entering the room. Mr Darcy remained where she had left him, framed in the doorway, his eyes intent upon her. Turning away, Elizabeth pushed the door open, only to find no one inside but Mrs Annesley.

  ‘Good afternoon, Miss Bennet.’ The lady smiled and put aside her book. ‘Miss Georgiana has just r
eturned to her chamber to seek a missing volume.’

  Elizabeth returned the smile. ‘Have you seen my sister, Mrs Annesley? She was in here but a short time ago, I am certain.’

  ‘She went upstairs to her chamber when Miss Georgiana left. Mr Latimer is returned from a walk and went up to see his wife and daughter, and Mr Bingley has taken his sisters to their rooms. I believe he wished to speak to them in private.’

  ‘Then I will leave you to your reading, ma’am, and follow my sister’s example.’

  Opening the door with caution, she found the entrance hall empty and hurrying across its expanse, she quickly mounted the staircase.

  ‘There you are, Lizzy; I had begun to wonder what had become of you!’ Jane looked up from one of the chairs beside the hearth, then put aside her needlework as Elizabeth closed the door and turned to face her sister.

  ‘I went to call upon Miss Latimer to see how she fared; she had a little accident up at the stables.’

  ‘I did hear about it from Mr Bingley.’

  Elizabeth was thankful for something to distract her from her recent encounter with Mr Darcy. ‘You have spent an inordinate amount of time in that gentleman’s company today. Is his presence becoming more palatable?’

  Though a faint wash of pink filled Jane’s cheeks, she shook her head. ‘I have always found him to have a pleasing air and such easy manners, Lizzy.’

  ‘Indeed.’ Elizabeth smirked. ‘You are encouraging him, Jane, whether you intend to or not.’

  Jane’s expression sobered. ‘I do not mean to, but I will own to being conscious it may be so. I must also speak to Mr Wentworth and intend therefore to call at the rectory at the earliest opportunity on the morrow.’

  ‘Are you quite certain, Jane?’

  Getting to her feet, Jane walked over to join her sister.

  ‘The gentleman did me the honour of offering his hand on Friday last; though it is but a few days since then, it seems such an age. Our coming to stay at Pemberley has caused an alteration on more than one front.’ Jane sighed. ‘Spending time in Mr Bingley’s company has been beneficial in helping me draw a conclusion, to realise what I could not see in either gentleman. Though I am unsure of my feelings for Mr Bingley, I do know it is time I gave Mr Wentworth my answer, for of that I am quite certain.’