A Quest for Mr Darcy

by Cassandra Grafton

  Eleanor shook her head. ‘It is not in Papa’s interests at present. He wishes me settled, thus I must be paraded about Town to be seen. We do have a home in Surrey, but we rarely visit.’ She looked around as they reached a rise in the ground. ‘There is a remarkable contrast between the South and here; Derbyshire is so much more rugged.’

  Elizabeth could not help but agree; it had been her first sentiment upon visiting the county with her aunt and uncle. Now, however, she had grown attached to it and much preferred it to the undulating farmlands of Hertfordshire.

  They joined the lane, and Eleanor set off at a canter, calling over her shoulder, ‘Come along, Miss Bennet. You wished for practise, did you not?’

  Urging her mount along, one she had been assured was not likely to want to suddenly leap over fences and gallop off into the far yonder, Elizabeth gradually found her rhythm. She had forgotten the pleasure of riding, so little had the opportunity been back at Longbourn. Perhaps she ought to indulge more in the occupation now the horses were not needed on the land?

  Once they reached the outskirts of town, they slowed their pace and drew alongside each other again, and Eleanor threw Elizabeth an assessing glance.

  ‘Papa says you are beneath my notice.’

  Elizabeth laughed. ‘It is no surprise to me!’

  Eleanor sighed. ‘He is not subtle. Mama says you are excellent company.’ She studied Elizabeth for a moment. ‘I fail to comprehend his belief in his superiority. His grandfather—my great-grandfather—made a vast fortune, but in trade, just like so many others. All I see is that such wealth and status do not necessarily result in happiness.’

  ‘Perhaps not, but there is no denying it may help.’ Elizabeth laughed ruefully. ‘I have a very good friend who claims happiness in marriage is entirely a matter of chance and, as such, she was prepared to settle for a situation in the hopes it might deliver as good an opportunity as any other for satisfaction.’

  They continued in silence for a short while, but then Eleanor looked over at Elizabeth again.

  ‘Does Colonel Fitzwilliam visit his cousin often here at Pemberley?’

  Elizabeth’s brow rose. ‘I do not know; though we have been in Derbyshire since January, it was only recently Mr Darcy returned from his travels and took up residence again.’

  ‘I see.’

  Elizabeth concealed her smile. She suspected the lady had enjoyed her set with the colonel a little more than she might wish to own.

  Once in the market square, Elizabeth suggested they leave their horses outside the apothecary, where there was both a rail and a block, and before long both ladies were back on solid ground.

  ‘Was there anywhere particular you would like to visit?’ Elizabeth waved a hand around, and Eleanor studied the bustling square lined with all manner of purveyors, many of which were displaying their wares on the traditional large shelves outside the bay windows.

  ‘I had not anticipated such a variety of offerings.’ She glanced over towards the windows of the haberdashery. ‘Let us see what wares they have on offer.’

  Elizabeth laughed as she fell into step beside her. ‘I suspect you will not find it comparable to those in Town.’

  They had reached the shop now and Eleanor studied the displays for a moment before turning to Elizabeth. She was smiling tentatively. ‘I am beginning to find many things in Derbyshire are not comparable to Town, Miss Bennet.’ She turned back to the window. ‘And I find I like it very well.’

  ‘Miss Lizzy!’

  Turning around, Elizabeth saw Alice beckoning to her across the square. ‘Will you excuse me, Miss Latimer? Our housekeeper from The Grange is calling me.’

  ‘Yes, of course. I will be inside.’ Eleanor gestured towards the door, and Elizabeth hurried across to join Alice, a smile spreading across her face.

  ‘We have heard from Papa, Alice! He will return directly, perhaps even later today. Is it not good news?’

  ‘Aye, miss; good news indeed, and not in isolation.’

  ‘How so?’

  ‘Your mother’s locket, Miss Lizzy. I have found it.’

  ‘Oh, Alice! That is such a relief.’ Elizabeth’s smile returned.

  ‘That is as may be, but it is not all. Come, make haste.’ She turned on her heel and, puzzled, Elizabeth followed her as they turned into a street she had never been in before. One side of it consisted of a row of cottages, but the other, on which they now walked, contained several commercial premises.

  Alice did not stop, however, but continued down the street.

  ‘Where are we going, Alice?’

  The housekeeper turned on her heel. ‘Cook asked me to call at the smithy; she wanted some knives sharpened, hence my being at this end of town.’ She waved a hand across the road to where the blacksmiths could be seen, then turned towards the building on their left and pointed at the bay window beside the door.

  Glancing at the sign above it, Elizabeth’s heart sank as she realised its significance. Slowly, she edged towards the window and peered inside. On a swathe of velvet drapery lay an assortment of items: pocket watches, key chains, various pieces of silverware and there, in its fine leather box, was Mrs Bennet’s gold locket.

  ‘Oh, Alice!’ Elizabeth turned away from the pawnbroker’s window, torn between sadness and frustration. Could their father have sold the locket to satisfy Wickham’s demands?

  The housekeeper fixed Elizabeth with a stern eye. ‘Now, Miss Lizzy. Let us not have you take on so. I am sure the master had his reasons.’

  Elizabeth could feel warmth filling her cheeks. How humiliating was it for Alice to assume it was her father who had done this?

  ‘I beg you to forgive my forwardness in so saying, Miss Lizzy.’ Alice placed a gentle hand on Elizabeth’s arm. ‘But do you not recall the master’s anger when that receipt fell from between his books? Perchance now we have the reason behind it.’

  Elizabeth looked up at the sign again. Unfamiliar though she was with it, the name did now resonate, for she had seen it stamped on the back of the very receipt Alice mentioned.

  Turning to stare through the window again, Elizabeth sighed. If Mr Bennet had needed funds so urgently, and his only recourse had been to sell such a valuable piece of jewellery, then there was no guarantee he would have the wherewithal to buy it back before someone else took a liking to it. After all, it was a stunning piece.

  Elizabeth glanced over her shoulder at Alice. ‘What do you think it would cost to retrieve it?’

  ‘More than you can raise, miss, of that I am certain. We must trust to your father reclaiming it as soon as he is in funds again.’

  Elizabeth’s eye drifted to the other items spread out upon the velvet runner. What had brought their owners to such a level as to have to part with these treasured pieces? Surely only her father was under the threat of extortion?

  ‘Come, miss. It pains me to have shown you, but you should not be seen lingering outside such a place.’

  ‘I cannot bear to think it may be the last I see of Mama’s necklace.’ Tearing her gaze away, Elizabeth turned around, then caught her breath. Eleanor Latimer was but a pace away from them.

  Chapter Sixty-Three

  ‘I wondered what had become of you, Miss Bennet.’ Eleanor Latimer eyed Alice warily, and Elizabeth sought quickly to hide her discomfort.

  ‘Forgive me, Miss Latimer. I was just about to return to the square.’ She turned back to the housekeeper. ‘Thank you for the intelligence you brought, Alice. I trust we will soon be home, and perhaps we can discuss the matter further at that time.’

  They both exchanged a meaningful look, and Elizabeth turned to join Eleanor as they made their way back up the street. Thankfully, beyond casting her a quick glance, the lady made no mention of finding Elizabeth standing outside such an establishment, and she was grateful for her discretion.

  In an attempt to divert any further attention from the incident, Elizabeth did her best to act normally, and they passed a pleasant enough couple of hours vi
siting various shops and ending with a cup of tea and a pastry at one of the local confectioneries before regaining their mounts and making their way back to Pemberley.

  During the ride, Eleanor professed a desire to spend a while practising at the pianoforte, and Elizabeth was unsurprised upon her return downstairs after changing out of the borrowed riding habit to find the lady already ensconced in the music room. Of Georgiana and Jane there was yet no sign, and she retraced her steps along the hallway, only to come across Mrs Reynolds coming out of the library followed by a maid bearing an empty tray.

  With a rush of relief, Elizabeth detected the sound of the colonel’s voice before the door closed upon it. The gentleman must have returned!

  ‘Good afternoon, Miss Bennet.’ Mrs Reynolds encouraged the maid to continue on her way before coming to stand before her. ‘I have just taken some refreshments in to the gentlemen and tea has also been sent into the drawing room for the Miss Bingleys. There are plenty of cups, if you would care to join the young ladies?’

  ‘Thank you, Mrs Reynolds. I do not suppose there has been any sign of my sister or Miss Darcy?’

  ‘Yes, ma’am. They did return briefly, but only to pack a further basket before heading off again.’

  Disappointed she must wait longer to share with Jane her news regarding the necklace Elizabeth summoned a smile. ‘Thank you. I will join the twins directly.’

  She began to walk towards the drawing room as Mrs Reynolds turned away, but then Elizabeth recalled something, a notion that had first taken hold when she had been in the stillroom with Mr Darcy.

  ‘Mrs Reynolds?’

  The lady turned back. ‘Yes, ma’am?’

  Elizabeth walked over to meet her; then, she said quietly. ‘I hope you do not mind my asking this.’ She hesitated, then added, ‘you did not truly require my assistance yesterday, did you? With Mr Darcy’s injury?’

  The housekeeper studied Elizabeth in silence for a moment; then, she smiled. ‘I may not have needed you, Miss Bennet, but the master most certainly did.’

  ~o0o~

  Mrs Reynolds’ words brought Elizabeth far greater comfort than she could ever know. Mr Darcy’s return to the house also contributed to her improved spirits, and pushing aside her concerns over the necklace for the moment, she slipped through the open doorway into the drawing room.

  Mrs Annesley was not there, but Olivia and Viola were seated at a circular table. They were suspiciously quiet, intent upon their endeavours in their respective books, and it was only as Elizabeth took a seat at the table that they both looked up.

  ‘Miss Elizabeth! We are so pleased you are returned!’ Viola beamed at her, and Elizabeth returned the smile.

  ‘We are becoming quite bored with our own company, for Mrs Annesley had to leave us for a while.’ Olivia placed her pen carefully into the tray of her writing slope. ‘Thank you so much for not telling Charles about our going outside last night.’

  Elizabeth looked from Olivia to her sister. ‘I am not convinced it was the right decision. In return for my discretion, I trust I shall have your word not to do it again?’

  The girls exchanged a quick look, then both turned back to Elizabeth, their bright blue eyes fixed upon her.

  ‘We do not mean to cause so much concern.’ Olivia sighed. ‘Though it may not seem so.’

  Viola nodded. ‘We have a tendency to get carried away by a notion, you see.’

  ‘Indeed.’ Olivia smiled. ‘Our elder sisters say we were born troublesome, but Charles prefers to call it mischievousness.’

  With a grin, Viola got to her feet. ‘And a mischievous nature must always be forgiven, you know, because there is no hope of a cure!’

  ‘And it does add to our charm, does it not, Miss Elizabeth?’ Olivia’s smile widened, and Elizabeth could not help but laugh.

  ‘Charm is all very well, but I wish you would both exercise a little more caution where your safety is concerned.’

  ‘We promise to try, do we not, ‘Livia?’ Viola had returned with a cup of tea for Elizabeth, which she placed on the table beside her before retaking her seat.

  ‘Indeed we do. And you must own, we were not entirely to blame for being drawn outside last night.’

  Elizabeth raised a quizzical brow. ‘How so?’

  Both girls looked surprised. ‘Why, it is the fault of the ghost, is it not?’

  With a smile, Elizabeth picked up her cup. ‘Are you quite certain of seeing anything? In such poor light it is easy to confuse shadows for forms and shapes.’

  ‘Oh but we did see someone, Miss Elizabeth.’

  ‘But as she fled, we were only out for a matter of minutes. It is just unfortunate we were caught!’

  ‘Unfortunate indeed.’ Elizabeth’s smile faded, however. Had someone truly been out in the grounds? ‘I intend to tell the estate steward about this. You do understand why?’

  Olivia and Viola exchanged a look, then nodded resignedly.

  Though sceptical over there actually being anything to trouble Mr Rivers about, Elizabeth knew it was best to err on the side of caution. ‘Do you think you may be able to adequately describe this person’s appearance for him?’

  ‘Oh yes!’ Olivia leaned forward across the table, fixing Elizabeth with her blue stare. ‘For we have seen her before; we just did not realise it until last night.’

  Viola sat up in her seat suddenly. ‘As have you, Miss Elizabeth!’

  Elizabeth frowned, placing her cup back on the table. ‘I have?’

  ‘Indeed. Do you not recall Olivia sharing her story with you and Mr Darcy the other day?’

  ‘And you expressed great interest in the sketches Viola had added in the margins.’

  With a relieved smile, Elizabeth nodded. ‘Yes, of course. Are you going to tell me this ghostly figure resembles one of your woodland creatures?’

  ‘Not quite, no.’ Olivia flipped back a few pages in her sister’s sketchbook, and then, getting to her feet, she walked around to stand beside Elizabeth, placing the open book on the table. ‘Here.’

  Elizabeth looked at the page indicated. There were the familiar drawings of Mr Rivers as a badger and Alice as a hawk, but Olivia’s finger was pointing to the cloaked waif-like creature with wings: one Elizabeth had barely paid any mind to. The figure was turned slightly away, but Viola had captured perfectly the sense of a spirited being.

  ‘It was not until we saw her again, of course, we realised it was the same person.’

  Elizabeth studied the beautifully delineated drawing. The facial features were partially hidden behind the long, flowing locks of hair, though one cheek, part of the forehead and the edge of the mouth were carefully depicted. Amused, Elizabeth looked up.

  ‘She has somewhat the look of my eldest sister about her.’

  Olivia peered at the drawing. ‘Indeed she does, Viola. Can you not see it?’ She smirked at Elizabeth. ‘Viola sometimes does not realise what influences her drawings!’

  Viola leaned across the table, then nodded slowly. ‘It is true; how singular!’ She looked up and smiled. ‘Though Miss Bennet is quite the most beautiful lady I have ever seen. Our ghost would only ever have been considered tolerably pretty.’

  Elizabeth was intrigued. They seemed so certain what they had seen was some sort of ghostly apparition or spirit, yet how could that be? ‘So when did you see this girl? I am certain she did not have wings!’

  Viola laughed. ‘No, indeed! At it happens, we were not far from The Grange.’

  ‘It was on the day we came to invite you to the picnic. You and Miss Bennet were making these!’ Olivia opened a drawer in her slope and rummaged around before bringing out one of the lavender bags Elizabeth had given them. ‘We caught a glimpse of her after we left. She was clad in a dark green cloak and disappeared quickly into the hedgerows, but it fed me the notion of my story.’

  Elizabeth frowned. ‘Did your brother not see her?’

  ‘No—Charles was walking up ahead.’

  ‘And of course I have a
much better likeness after last night.’ Viola pulled the sketchbook towards her and, her curiosity rising, Elizabeth got to her feet and walked round to look over her shoulder.

  ‘There she is!’

  Elizabeth’s eye travelled to where Viola pointed, expecting to see a similarly vague execution of the gaunt elfin-like girl, but suddenly she felt her skin prickle as her hand shot to her throat.

  ‘No. No...’ Elizabeth began to shake her head. ‘That is not possible.’

  ‘Miss Elizabeth? You are gone quite pale. Here, sit down.’

  Viola rose from her chair and almost pushed Elizabeth into it.

  ‘How could you... where have you seen this girl’s likeness before?’ Elizabeth frowned as she stared at the drawing; despite the thin, once-pretty countenance, the similarity was uncanny—a fair interpretation of her youngest sister. Surely Viola must have come across the miniature of Lydia, which lay amongst other family members’ on the console table in the hallway at home? ‘Did you... had you seen her likeness at The Grange when you called?’

  Viola shook her head. ‘No—are you acquainted with her, Miss Elizabeth? Is that why she was near your home?’

  Elizabeth’s confusion was intensifying. How could this be? Were ghosts real, then, and had Lydia’s spirit been out in the grounds of Pemberley? It made no sense! Not just the notion of such a world existing, but for someone like her youngest sister to be supposedly haunting a place she had no association with.

  ‘But there are no ghosts, my dears.’ Elizabeth looked up at Olivia, who had retaken her seat.

  Leaning forward again, the better to inspect the drawing, Elizabeth sighed. Had it truly been influenced by Jane’s appearance? Then, suddenly, she paled even further.

  ‘Miss Elizabeth! What is it?’

  Chapter Sixty-Four

  Elizabeth’s hand traced the familiar features before her, coming to rest on a distinctive mark below the right ear. Lydia had a small birthmark in such a place, one she could easily conceal with her curls, but this girl had no such artifice at her disposal. Her hair hung in loose tendrils about her face. There was no denying it; this was a faithful rendition of a saddened, worn-looking Lydia!