A Quest for Mr Darcy

by Cassandra Grafton

  ‘I do not understand.’ Elizabeth’s skin grew cold, and she put a hand to her head. There had to be a reason behind this, a simple, logical explanation, did there not? How could Viola have seen anything to direct her hand to produce such a clear likeness? No miniature would have shown this mark!

  Yet Lydia had been dead for more than a year now, had she not? Elizabeth’s head began to spin with all manner of unthinkable thoughts, and she slumped back in her seat, unaware she had paled even further. The twins exchanged a confused glance.

  ‘Miss Elizabeth?’ Viola stared at her sister. ‘Why does she not respond?‘

  Olivia shrugged, but when a further entreaty to Elizabeth went unheard by the lady, Viola’s eyes lit up.

  ‘We must fetch help for her!’

  Olivia nodded. ‘Let us fetch Georgiana! No, wait; she is not here. We must fetch our brother; he will know what to do.’

  Viola, however, shook her head. ‘No—this is Miss Elizabeth, ‘Livia!’ She threw her sister a meaningful glance, and Olivia gasped.

  ‘Yes, of course! We must fetch Mr Darcy!’

  ~o0o~

  Darcy’s gaze drifted over the map of the estate, which they had spread out across the long wooden table in the centre of the library. Their initial search of the Kympton woods and its surroundings had delivered no sign of the missing girl, and they had taken a circuitous route back to Pemberley before deciding they must consult a map of the estate to direct them.

  Eschewing the one in Rivers’ office for fear of drawing attention to themselves, they had repaired to the library, and Darcy had been thankful their return had not been detected beyond a couple of the servants. Despite this, his thoughts drifted to Elizabeth and how her morning had gone. The pleasures of the ball seemed a lifetime away.

  ‘Any thoughts, Darcy?’

  Darcy blinked, then focused back on the map.

  ‘I think we had best divide our search now, Cousin.’ He tapped the map. ‘Perhaps if one of us explores the area around The Grange—Bingley, would you oblige?’

  ‘Indeed.’ Bingley placed his coffee cup on the table and came to stand beside them. ‘I will go through the woodland between here and there as well.’

  ‘Capital!’ The colonel turned away to replenish his cup, but they all looked over as a knock came upon the door and a footman entered.

  ‘Forgive the interruption, Mr Darcy.’

  ‘What is it, Carter?’

  ‘Mr Wentworth has called, sir.’

  Darcy exchanged a look with his cousin. ‘I cannot come at present; tell him I will call in on him later.’

  ‘As you wish, sir.’

  ‘Oh, and Carter? We wish for no further disturbance.’

  The footman bowed. ‘Yes, sir.’

  The colonel grunted as Carter withdrew. ‘How trustworthy is the good reverend, Darce?’

  ‘Perfectly so. Why do you ask?’

  With a shrug, Colonel Fitzwilliam resumed his study of the map. ‘We may need to enlist his aid in keeping an eye out around Kympton, that is all. We are spread all too thin at present.’ He pointed to an area of the map beyond The Grange. ‘Could she have gone as far as Curbar Edge, do you think? It is remote but well suited to someone desirous of not being found. We will have our work cut out to find her, if so.’

  Darcy did not want to think on how difficult it was going to be now Lydia Bennet was on her guard against being discovered. Then, he frowned. ‘It seems odd Rivers had received no further reports. Do you think—’

  He looked up in frustration as a further knock came upon the door, but this time, Viola came hurrying in.

  ‘Mr Darcy; you must come. Make haste, sir!’

  Darcy straightened but before he could speak, Bingley walked over to meet his sister.

  ‘What is it, Viola? I trust you have good reason for entering in such an unfitting manner?’

  Viola sent him an admonishing look. ‘This is no time for convention, Brother. Miss Elizabeth is in need of Mr Darcy’s immediate assistance.’

  A bolt of anxiety shot through Darcy. ‘What has happened?’

  ‘She seems a little unwell, sir. Please,’ Viola waved a hand towards the door. ‘Do come.’

  Darcy exchanged a swift look with his cousin and friend, and the colonel shrugged. Though he knew not the nature of the assistance required, Darcy was already half way to the door before he turned back. ‘Excuse me; I shall return directly.’

  The colonel smirked. ‘We will not hold our breath, eh, Bingley?’

  Bingley grinned as they both resumed their study of the map. ‘No, indeed! Take your time, Darcy!’

  Closing the door upon their amused countenances, Darcy turned to walk swiftly along the hallway. ‘What ails Miss Bennet?’

  Viola skipped to keep apace with his stride. ‘I know not, sir. She seems out of sorts and will not speak to us.’

  Darcy’s gaze narrowed as they reached the drawing room. This was most unlike Elizabeth; she could not possibly have discovered the purpose of their search, could she? They entered the room to find Olivia seated beside Elizabeth, holding one of the lady’s hands and talking quietly to her.

  Elizabeth’s gaze was fixed upon something on the table before her. She was excessively pale. Darcy fetched up beside her chair, but she did not look up.

  ‘Miss Elizabeth? Is something wrong? The twins are concerned for you.’

  There was no response, and Darcy frowned.

  Meanwhile, Elizabeth’s head remained all confusion, her gaze riveted upon the face in front of her. It was only as someone took her hand that she started and looked up. Mr Darcy had taken the seat beside her.

  ‘Miss Elizabeth? Can you hear me?’ She stared at him uncomprehendingly, her gaze then dropping to where her hand lay in his. ‘Are you quite well?’

  Elizabeth bit her lip. What could she possibly say? Would he not think she was losing her mind if she said her sister’s spirit appeared to be haunting the grounds of Pemberley? She drew in a shallow breath. ‘I am quite well, sir; only disturbed by an inexplicable vision upon this page.’

  She was uncertain how to speak of such nonsense, but then Mr Darcy’s gaze drifted to the open book and her own eyes widened as she saw the recognition in his. It was not her imagination, then; this sketch was identifiable to others as Lydia too!

  Darcy’s eyes flew back to meet Elizabeth’s, and he squeezed her hand lightly. ‘Let me get you some wine.’

  ‘I shall fetch it!’ Viola turned away, but Darcy stalled her.

  ‘I think not, Miss Viola, but I would appreciate your coming with me.’ She fell willingly into step beside him as he crossed the room to a side table housing all manner of drinks. He did not reach immediately for a glass, however, but said in a low voice.

  ‘How came you to draw such a picture as the one which has shaken Miss Elizabeth so?’

  ‘It was the ghost, Mr Darcy. We saw it clearly, for as we approached it looked right at us before fleeing.’ Viola frowned. ‘It is as though Miss Elizabeth recognised her.’

  Knowing precisely what they had seen, Darcy sighed. Though there would never have been an easy way to tell Elizabeth or her sister about what he had discovered, this was no way for her to find out!

  ‘Miss Viola, might I ask a favour?’

  ‘Of course, sir!’

  ‘Would you be so kind as to lend me this drawing? I wish to show it to my cousin and your brother.’

  Viola’s eyes widened. ‘Charles does not know of our... adventure, Mr Darcy.’

  ‘I will be circumspect, I assure you.’

  Relief filled Viola’s countenance and she nodded as he poured a small glass of wine, then turned about. Olivia was talking quietly to Elizabeth again as they walked back to where she sat. Some colour had now returned to her pale skin, and she smiled tremulously up at Darcy as he handed her the glass.

  ‘Drink; it will help restore you.’

  Elizabeth took a sip before placing the glass on a side table. ‘Forgive me, sir. I do not k
now what came over me. I think perhaps the late night...’ she waved a dismissive hand. ‘Some lingering fatigue must have been a contributory factor to my imagination running away with me.’

  Darcy wished he could agree with her, but this was not the place to reveal what he must. The twins were good-natured and kind, but it would not do for such a thing to be spoken of in their presence. There could also be no further delay in putting things before her.

  ‘Do you feel well enough to take a walk, Miss Elizabeth? I am certain some fresh air will help to restore you further.’

  Elizabeth met his gaze and held it for a moment, but then she smiled faintly and nodded. ‘Yes; I think you may be right, sir.’

  ‘Then come with me.’ Darcy held out his hand, and she placed hers in it without hesitation as he drew her to her feet. This was going to be perhaps the most challenging walk he had ever taken!

  Chapter Sixty-Five

  Darcy paced up and down on the path running along the back of the house, his eye constantly drawn to the door to the boot room. Elizabeth had gone upstairs to collect a Spencer, but it had been a full twenty minutes, and she had yet to re-join him.

  His gaze scanned the grounds, coming to rest on where the wooded hillside touched the edge of the gardens. It would be most convenient if Lydia Bennet would choose this moment to make another appearance, but he knew it was a futile wish.

  He checked his watch fob again. They needed to resume their search, yet nothing was more important to him than Elizabeth's well-being, her peace of mind. How could he tell her the truth, and somehow reassure her on this most singular of matters, when her sister had yet to be found?

  Turning impatiently on his heel for what felt like the hundredth time, Darcy was relieved to see the door open and Elizabeth emerge. It seemed he would have no further time to speculate, but must summon all his wits and try to find the words to speak the impossible to her.

  He walked to meet her as she looked around and saw him, and though she did not smile as they reached each other, it was clear she had become more herself.

  'Miss Elizabeth.' Darcy bowed out of habit, though the formality seemed incongruous in the circumstances.

  Elizabeth offered a brief curtsey, still unsmiling. 'Forgive my tardiness, sir. I had need of gathering my thoughts as much as my Spencer, and took a moment to order them.'

  'Not at all.' Darcy waved a dismissive hand before offering her his arm, and though she hesitated this time, she took it.

  He turned to lead her along the path away from the house, a silence settling upon them both, and Darcy wracked his brains for the right words. Unfortunately, all that came to mind were his cousin's inane suggestions, and he tried to push them away. How could he even make a beginning?

  'There is no doubt in my mind, Mr Darcy; Miss Viola has drawn a faithful likeness of my youngest sister.’ Elizabeth spoke quietly, and there was a tremor to her voice. ‘If I were inclined to believe in ghosts, perchance I would accept it as such.’ She glanced at Darcy. ‘Yet I have no other choice but to draw a logical conclusion. It was no other-worldly spirit they saw; it was a person made of as much flesh and blood as any other.'

  Darcy stared at her. Was it that simple? Had she truly just cut through all his concerns of how to speak the unthinkable truth of the matter? She said nothing as he held her gaze, the deep emotion in her eyes expressive of her thoughts.

  ‘You do not question my sanity in so saying, Mr Darcy. My sister lives, and is here in Derbyshire.’ Elizabeth’s gaze narrowed as she studied his countenance. ‘And you know it to be true!’

  She stopped walking, her hand slipping from his arm.

  Reluctantly, Darcy nodded. ‘I did not know how to tell you.’

  ‘I—I am quite taken aback, sir.’ She drew in a breath. ‘And for how long, pray, have you known this?'

  'But four and twenty hours.' Darcy eyed her warily, desperate for some indication of her thoughts.

  'I see.'

  To his dismay, Elizabeth turned away from him and began to walk on. He caught her up easily, his stride being so much longer, and placed a hand upon her arm to stall her, but though she stopped, she did not turn to face him.

  'You asked for my trust, Mr Darcy, yet you did not think to offer the same courtesy by return, with such significant intelligence in your possession?'

  'When would you have had me speak of it?' Darcy blew out a frustrated breath. 'During the first dance of our set at the ball? Or perhaps the second?'

  Elizabeth said nothing for a moment, but he could feel the rigidity of her arm beneath his touch, and he released her. Then, she slowly turned to face him.

  'I begin to comprehend your troubled countenance last night, what it was you concealed.’ She frowned. ‘Yet we were alone in the stillroom earlier in the day, were we not?'

  Darcy fixed his gaze upon her. 'You believe I could impart such distressing knowledge in whatever time there might have been, with Mrs Reynolds likely to return within seconds?'

  Elizabeth sighed, then shook her head. 'No, of course not. But could you not have spoken to me afterwards?'

  'A man in full possession of his faculties could!’ Darcy ran a hand through his hair. Did she have no notion of her effect upon him? ‘Despite what I had earlier discovered, there was nothing more prominent in my mind at the time, Miss Elizabeth, than you.’

  She stared up at him, eyes wide, and some colour began to seep into her cheeks.

  'You begin to understand me, I believe.’ He touched a hand lightly to her face, then let it drop to his side. ‘Do you think I was speculating upon anything at that moment other than your closeness? Or how I wished I could speak openly to you, without all this between us?’

  Elizabeth remained silent, and Darcy willed her to understand him, to want to hear him out; to forgive him, in fact, for failing to reveal such a momentous thing to her.

  Then, she nodded. ‘If you could not speak then, will you tell me now? If you know Lydia to be alive, how did you learn of it?’

  Darcy stared at her for a moment. ‘I saw her with my own eyes.’

  Elizabeth gasped, a hand shooting to her throat. ‘And—and how is she? Where is she now?’ Then, she frowned. ‘And why is she depicted as so unkempt and unlike herself in the drawing, or was that just Miss Viola’s romantic interpretation?’

  Darcy shook his head, conscious that, though he felt he had little to offer her by way of fact, there was still much to explain.

  'Come,' he held out his hand, and she dropped her gaze to stare at it. ‘Take my hand, Miss Elizabeth.’ She looked up then placed her hand in his, and with relief he closed his fingers over it. Then, he indicated they walk on and began to speak in a low voice, telling her all that had happened on his ride the previous morning.

  When he had finished, a further silence descended upon them for a while, but then Elizabeth looked up at him, her intelligent eyes wide in her face.

  ‘There is so much I fail to comprehend.’ She spoke quietly, and her voice sounded taught. ‘Why were we fed a false report of Lydia’s passing?' She shook her head, her confusion apparent. ‘And what would she be doing here at Pemberley, of all places?’

  ‘There is much I do not understand either. If—when we find her, we will no doubt gain the answers we seek.’ Darcy hesitated, wary of adding to Elizabeth’s distress. 'Miss Elizabeth, I know not the reasoning behind any of this, but it may be that your sister’s being alive accounts for Wickham's attempts to extort funds from your father.'

  She came to a halt and threw him a shocked glance. 'You do not think she has been with Wickham all this time? Are they married after all?'

  'I know not, on either count.' Darcy paused; the evidence thus far pointed to Lydia Bennet being alone in the vicinity of the estate. 'Though we know Wickham has determined your address here in Derbyshire, and I found this when searching for your sister earlier.'

  He drew out the ribbons and scrap of paper, but Elizabeth paid them no mind, her gaze fixed upon his face.

&nb
sp; 'That was your purpose this morning? Then your cousin and Mr Bingley know also of Lydia’s being alive.’

  Darcy could not deny it. ‘I hope you will forgive my sharing such delicate intelligence with them. My cousin came across me shortly after my discovery, and I was unable to conceal my shock. They are both to be trusted and are committed to doing all they can to find your sister.’

  Elizabeth nodded slowly. ‘And did any of you see her today?'

  Reluctantly, Darcy shook his head. 'I had so hoped to find her, to bring you to her as soon after breaking such difficult news as I could.'

  Her head drooped on her shoulders. ‘I cannot believe it. It is...’ she stopped, then leaned forward as she looked at the items resting in Darcy’s palm.

  'What is it?'

  She picked up the scrap of paper bearing nothing but the address of The Grange. ‘This is Papa's hand!'

  Darcy raised a brow. ‘We must hope your father will be able to oblige with some answers upon his return later.’

  Elizabeth frowned. ‘You believe my father knew of this? Then is he culpable in some way?’ She put a hand to her head.

  Concerned by her renewed paleness, Darcy looked around then led Elizabeth over to a bench backed by thick hedging.

  She sank on to it as though her legs barely supported her, and Darcy took a seat beside her. He stared across the grounds unseeingly. Elizabeth may have surprised him with her acceptance of her sister’s being alive, but there seemed to be no end to the further distresses being heaped upon her, and his heart was clenching in his breast on her behalf. He drew in a shallow breath, then looked down to where her hands lay listlessly in her lap.

  ‘Here, let me.’ Darcy took the scrap of paper from her and placed it on the bench between them, along with the pieces of ribbon. Then, he reached out and picked up one of her hands and cradled it in his own. She did not react but neither did she attempt to withdraw it.