A Quest for Mr Darcy

by Cassandra Grafton

  Having tossed and turned throughout the early hours, she finally gave up on seeking repose around five in the morning. Pulling a thick woollen shawl about her shoulders, she padded across to inspect the embers of the fire: they were beyond saving.

  She walked over to the window and pulled back the drapes to peer out into the dim light that precedes dawn, her incessant thoughts turning once again on the imminent confrontation.

  What if something drastic happened when Wickham appeared; what if someone was hurt—or worse? What if she never saw Mr Darcy again, heard his voice, felt his touch?

  A constriction rising in her throat, Elizabeth turned and headed for the dressing room where she splashed some cold water upon her face, then patted it dry with a towel. She was being nonsensical, allowing her imagination to overrule her good sense.

  The chiming of the clock drew her attention, and making a decision, she hurriedly changed into the garments leant to her by Georgiana the previous evening. Fortunately, they were of simple fastening and did not require assistance, but when she looked in the mirror and observed the damage of her restless night upon her hair, she almost laughed.

  There was little she could do in the circumstances, however. Time was of the essence, and she dragged a comb through her curls and tied them back with a ribbon. It would have to suffice.

  Elizabeth opened the door and peered out onto the landing. A couple of lamps continued to burn low in their sconces, but she could detect no sound. Where might Mr Darcy be? If he and the other gentlemen were aiming to reach The Grange before dawn broke, then surely their departure was imminent?

  Grabbing her shawl, she left her chamber and, holding her skirts in her hand to avoid tripping, hurried along the hallway out onto the main landing. There was no sign of anyone, but again, a few lamps were lit, and she made her way down the stairs in haste, her anxiety rising in her desperation to see Mr Darcy before he left.

  ‘Miss Elizabeth!’

  The loudly whispered voice startled her, and Elizabeth swung around to see Mr Bingley coming down the stairs, tucking something within the breast of his coat.

  ‘You are an early riser!’

  ‘I could not sleep.’

  Bingley fetched up beside her, his expression understanding. ‘You are anxious for the outcome. Do not fear. We will protect your father.’

  A fleeting moment of guilt swept through her. Had her fears not all been for Mr Darcy? How quickly he had supplanted all else in her affections.

  ‘You all take great risk today, sir; I only hope my father appreciates it.’ She looked up the stairs in hope of seeing Mr Darcy, but there was no one in sight.

  ‘Darcy and the colonel are ahead of me.’ Mr Bingley gestured back up the stairs. ‘I had to...’ His hand went to the bulge in his coat. ‘I had forgotten something I wished to take with me.’

  ‘Then I will delay you no longer, sir.’ Elizabeth drew in a shallow breath. ‘I wish you all a safe outcome and for Wickham to be gone from our lives for ever.’

  Bingley bowed, smiled fleetingly and hurried past the staircase and through the service door, and Elizabeth frowned. What might Mr Bingley need to take with him for this encounter with Wickham? Then, she shrugged and looked around the empty hall. There was no further sound or movement to be detected, other than the clock chiming the quarter hour, reminding her of the passing of time.

  Turning on her heel, she followed in Mr Bingley’s footsteps, hurrying down the corridor to the boot room. Elizabeth pressed her ear to the door for any sound, but detecting nothing, she opened it. There was no one within, and disappointment threatened to overwhelm her for a moment. Then, she kicked off her slippers and shoved her feet into her boots. They were still damp, but she cared little enough, tugging open the door to the garden and stepping outside.

  Light had begun to filter into the sky to the east, and by straining her eyes, she could just make out Mr Bingley’s figure as he hurried along the path leading to the gate by the stables. Though the inclement weather had ceased, the lamplight from within the boot room shone upon the lawns, which glistened with the previous day’s rain.

  The chirruping of the birds floated through the chill air as they began to herald the dawn of a new day, and Elizabeth sighed despondently, then let out a small shriek as a voice said softly in her ear, ‘Have I spirited you here from my imagination?’

  Awash with relief, Elizabeth swung around, searching Mr Darcy’s face in the shadowy light. ‘I thought I had missed you; that you had already gone to the stables.’

  ‘I had to leave some instructions for Mrs Reynolds.’ He reached out a hand to tuck a curl behind her ear. ‘You should not be out here at this hour. The air is chill and you must keep warm.’

  ‘I feel no warmth unless I am near you.’

  Darcy smiled faintly. ‘A good fire in the hearth will have to suffice for now. You know we must do this, Elizabeth; we must stop Wickham once and for all.’

  Elizabeth’s head drooped on her shoulders, her gaze falling to the ground.

  ‘I do not see why I cannot come with you. Jane is there, as is Lydia—I mean, Sarah. If they are permitted to remain, why cannot I return home?’

  ‘It is not wise for your youngest sister to be seen at Pemberley with so many people there, and you would not wish her to remain at home without Miss Bennet for company and support, would you?’

  Elizabeth shook her head.

  ‘It gives me comfort to know you are here. If you were at The Grange, my attention would not be on the matter in hand. Do not despair.’ Mr Darcy placed a gentle finger under her chin and raised her head so their eyes met. ‘We are three—four, if we include your father—against one.’

  ‘But what if someone is sacrificed in the process? I cannot bear to...’

  Mr Darcy silenced her by placing the same finger against her lips. ‘Then do not. Have faith in our ability to do this.’ He held her gaze as silence settled upon them. Then, there was a sudden fluttering sound from where the overhanging trees met the lawns, and Elizabeth moved instinctively towards him, his arms enclosing her as two pheasants came flying out of the undergrowth, weaving low across the lawn before soaring up over the rooftops.

  ‘I must compliment the gamekeeper when next I see him.’ Elizabeth looked up at Mr Darcy from within his embrace. ‘The pheasants are clearly well versed in how to encourage you to come closer.’

  Elizabeth laughed, but her ensuing smile faded slowly as she detected the intent in Mr Darcy’s darkening eyes, and then he was kissing her again and she melted into his embrace, her body crushed up against him, her mouth responding willingly to his, her hands pressed against his back, willing him not to leave.

  It had to end, however, and Mr Darcy brought the kiss to a close, then leaned his forehead against hers, his breathing uneven. ‘This will not do. I must join the others.’

  A little shaken by the intensity of their embrace, Elizabeth merely nodded. Her throat was tightening again, and she feared she could not speak, even should she try.

  Mr Darcy took her hand and pressed a kiss upon it. ‘I will see you directly, Elizabeth.’

  He turned and walked away, and Elizabeth watched him until his tall figure faded into the murkiness of the early light. Then, she drew in a shaking breath. Keep them safe, she pleaded silently, raising her eyes to the heavens. Bring him back to me.

  Chapter Seventy-Seven

  Colonel Fitzwilliam had advocated approaching The Grange through the adjacent woodland rather than along the road; thus, it was only as the three gentlemen led their mounts out into the open as they neared the house itself that any conversation took place.

  ‘We shall miss some fine sport this morning, Darce.’

  Pulled from his thoughts, Darcy looked over at his cousin and frowned. ‘How so?’

  The colonel raised a finger to his lips as Bingley trotted past them to lead the way up the drive. ‘With their departure imminent, I think the twins felt obliged to increase their efforts to play a joke on Latimer,
their first having failed so spectacularly.’

  Darcy threw his cousin an alarmed look. ‘What do they intend this time?’

  The colonel shrugged. ‘He will come to no harm—regretfully. Do you recall the young ladies excusing themselves after dinner and not returning to the drawing room for some time?’

  ‘I cannot say I...’

  ‘Noticed? No, I suspect your attention was elsewhere—upstairs, perhaps, with a certain young lady?’ He smirked. ‘I am told Miss Olivia and Miss Viola went along to the boot room with their sewing baskets and proceeded to fasten the lining of the sleeves inside Latimer's great coat.’

  The colonel waved an arm in comical fashion, his fist balled and retracted into his own sleeve. ‘It will be a sight to be seen; I am almost sorry to miss it! That was not all, either. Apparently, they have stuffed the toes of his boots with some leftover plum pudding. ’

  Darcy smiled faintly. ‘I hope he is not too harsh on the girls.’

  The colonel laughed. ‘I suspect they consider it worth the censure they will draw down. I must admit, I checked my garments carefully this morning, but it seems he was their only target.’ He shrugged again. ‘A childish prank, but harmless enough.’

  ‘If Latimer is yet to make the discovery, how is it you are aware of it?’

  There was silence for a moment, and Darcy turned to look at his cousin as they brought their horses to a halt.

  ‘Fitzwilliam?’

  ‘What? Oh; yes. You may recall my being seated with Miss Latimer later in the evening? She confessed to having had a hand in it all, identifying the correct coat and boots for them earlier in the day.’ He grinned. ‘She seemed rather proud of her efforts. Now, that is sufficient frivolity for today. Down to business.’ He swung from his mount. ‘Where shall we conceal the horses?’

  Before Darcy could answer, the door swung open, and Mr Bennet emerged into the dim morning light. ‘If you lead them round to the stables, there is a boy there who will tether them in the stalls.’

  ‘Leave it with me, Darcy.’ The colonel took Bedivere’s reins, along with his own and those of Bingley’s horse and walked their mounts round to the side of the house indicated by Mr Bennet, and Darcy turned to the gentleman.

  ‘Sir.’ He bowed, and Mr Bennet did likewise.

  ‘Come in, Mr Darcy.‘ And you too, Mr Bingley. Alice has prepared us some coffee, though do not take it as a compliment. It is likely as undrinkable as ever.’

  They followed him into the entrance hall, and Darcy instinctively looked around for Elizabeth as he began to remove his great coat, then chided himself for his own foolishness as Alice came bustling towards them.

  ‘Let me have those coats, gentlemen.’ She took Darcy’s from him and turned to Bingley, but to his surprise the housekeeper gave his friend a meaningful look and received a nod by return.

  Darcy eyed Bingley curiously as Alice walked over to open the door to the closet. ‘Am I missing something?’

  ‘Hmm?’ Bingley looked at him, his countenance vague before it cleared suddenly. ‘Oh! No—nothing of consequence.’

  ‘Gentlemen?’

  Mr Bennet preceded them into his library, where a welcoming fire glowed in the hearth. The acrid aroma of over-strong coffee drifted from the pot on the desk, and Darcy eyed it warily.

  Barely had they all taken a seat when a sharp rap came on the door, followed by the colonel’s entrance. ‘I hope you do not object, sir, but I have requisitioned your young stable lad to keep watch by the gate. He is well concealed and seemed appreciative of a few extra coins for his trouble.’

  ‘You seem quite certain Wickham will be coming here.’

  The colonel closed the door before turning around. ‘He is unlikely to walk away from a well he does not consider dry, sir.’

  Mr Bennet raised a brow. ‘I have been compared to many things in my life, Colonel, but I suppose a well suffices as any other.’ He got to his feet and walked over to the desk. ‘Let us attempt to drink some of this potion; if nothing else, it will keep us alert after our early rising.’

  ~o0o~

  Elizabeth had returned to her chamber after Mr Darcy left, feeling bereft and anxious, but warmed by their parting embrace. Casting the tousled bed covers a baleful look, she had tugged a blanket from within and curled up in a fireside chair, closing her eyes and reliving being held in Mr Darcy’s arms. She finally drifted off into a sleep borne out of exhaustion, only to awaken, startled, some hours later when the service door opened and a maid entered.

  ‘Oh, miss, sorry to disturb you.’ The young girl gestured towards the grate. ‘I am come to make up the fire.’

  Elizabeth shook her head. ‘It is a welcome disturbance.’

  She frowned as she got to her feet and stretched, glancing over at the clock and surprised to see how far the morning had progressed. She dropped the blanket onto the bed and walked over to the window, pulling back the drapes to reveal a complete contrast to the previous day. Barely a cloud could be seen in the pale blue, autumnal sky, and no breeze stirred the treetops.

  With the maid busy at the hearth, Elizabeth walked over to the mirror and studied her reflection, then sighed. The gown was badly creased now, and her hair needed the attention of his sister’s hand. Then, she shrugged. There was little she could do about it.

  The fire was soon crackling in the grate, and as soon as the maid disappeared back through the service door, Elizabeth sank into her chair. She felt weary and her anxiety was building again. When would Wickham arrive at The Grange? How long would it take them to corner him? He was unlikely to make negotiations easy; were her fears realistic, that he might turn violent?

  A tentative knock on the door interrupted her unhappy speculations, and she summoned a smile as Georgiana entered.

  ‘Are you quite well, Miss Elizabeth? You did not come down to breakfast.’

  ‘You find me perfectly well, Miss Darcy. I had not realised it was so late.’ She gestured at her gown. ‘Perhaps it is as well, for I am in no fit state to join people at the table. Will you sit?’

  Georgiana walked over and took the chair opposite.

  ‘I must apologise for the condition of your poor gown.’ Elizabeth held up the skirt before letting it drop again. ‘I am afraid I fell asleep in the chair.’

  ‘It will soon press.’ Georgiana hesitated. She looked a little awkward, then spoke hurriedly. ‘I came to see what else you may need. Without your sister here... I mean, I do not intend to be presumptuous, but I wondered if Hetty could assist you?’

  ‘You are too kind, Miss Darcy.’

  With a small smile, Georgiana shook her head. ‘It is not kindness, Miss Elizabeth. ‘It is a pleasure to do what I can for you.’ She got to her feet. ‘I will send her along directly.’

  Georgiana’s personal maid arrived promptly, carrying another of her mistresses’ gowns and a warm shawl, followed shortly by another maid bearing a tray containing a mug of chocolate and a piece of fruit cake. Whilst Elizabeth washed, Hetty sat quietly adjusting the hem to a suitable length before helping her to dress and then attending to the taming of Elizabeth’s hair. Before long, a much more pleasing reflection looked back at her.

  She made her way down the stairs shortly afterwards, trying not to dwell upon what may be happening two miles away, and as she reached the entrance hall, Mrs Reynolds greeted her.

  ‘Are you quite well, ma’am?’ The housekeeper eyed Elizabeth thoughtfully. ‘You are somewhat pale.’

  ‘I am quite well, thank you.’

  ‘You must make certain to keep well wrapped up today.’

  ‘I was hoping to take a short walk. I will stay in sight of the house, of course.’

  Mrs Reynolds frowned. ‘The master intimated he and the other gentlemen would be absent for most of the day. He left instructions that the ladies of the house were to remain at Pemberley. I have spoken to Miss Georgiana, and she has suggested some amusements within the near grounds.’

  They both looked up at the sound of raised
voices coming from the drawing room, and the door suddenly swung open as Mr Latimer emerged, red in the face.

  ‘If you will excuse me, ma’am.’ Mrs Reynolds turned towards the service door as Mrs Latimer followed her husband into the hall.

  ‘Now, my dear; I think you were a little too harsh. It was only a bit of fun, after all.’ She looked over and saw Elizabeth. ‘Miss Bennet! How are you feeling? I was sorry not to see you last evening, but Mr Darcy said you were not up to visitors.’

  ‘I am well, Mrs Latimer, thank you.’

  ‘Hmmph. Going for a walk in a rainstorm.’ Mr Latimer glared at Elizabeth. ‘Damned foolish behaviour, if you ask me.’

  ‘I doubt it was raining when Miss Bennet set off.’ Mrs Latimer cast a quick look at Elizabeth. ‘And no one did ask you, dear.’

  Elizabeth concealed her smile at Mr Latimer’s outraged expression before he turned to storm up the stairs.

  ‘My husband is a little... irritated by something that happened when he prepared to take his morning walk.’

  Elizabeth frowned, and the lady smiled. ‘Nothing to concern yourself about, my dear, but I shall have to attend him. I think I shall send him off to explore the maze. He is in no mood for company, I fear, and at least there he is in danger of annoying no one but himself!’

  Watching the lady climb the stairs, Elizabeth felt a wave of sadness for her. Mr Latimer seemed to be becoming more unpleasant by the day. Then, she crossed the hall and entered the drawing room. Barely had she passed the threshold when Olivia and Viola let out an exclamation and hurried over to each take a hand.

  ‘We were so worried for you, Miss Elizabeth!’

  ‘Are you quite well? We would be so unhappy if you were taken ill.’

  The twins fell quickly into relating their plans to follow the gentlemen on the previous evening to aid in the search, only to be thwarted by Mrs Annesley.