A Quest for Mr Darcy

by Cassandra Grafton

  Elizabeth pulled Georgiana away as Eleanor lined up her bow and arrow, but Wickham swung around, waving the gun blindly in their direction as, with a growl of frustration, he wiped a hand across his eyes.

  A sudden rustling came from the undergrowth, and Elizabeth drew in a sharp breath as the hound she and Mr Darcy had rescued from the mud came bounding forward to claim his share of the offerings.

  Before any of the ladies could react, he had collided with Wickham who, losing his balance, fell backwards, his head hitting the solid trunk of Olivia and Viola’s tree with a resounding crack. There was a moment’s pause, then Wickham crumpled as though in slow motion into a heap as the gun hit the ground, emitting a loud bang.

  ~o0o~

  The sound of a powerful shot rang out through the air as Darcy galloped across the tailored lawns towards the back of the house, and he reined in his mount and swung to the ground, turning to stare whence the sound had come. His heart was pounding fit to burst from his chest, which ached with his fear.

  He raced up the bank to where he could see people now on the edge of the trees, but there was no sign of Elizabeth. Trepidation gripping his throat, his gaze raked the scene as he sped towards it. The twins were peering down from a nearby tree; Eleanor Latimer stood tall and still, her back to him, and beside her was Georgiana, who had her face in her hands.

  No! Elizabeth would not be hurt, or even worse! This could not happen, not here at Pemberley, where they were all supposed to be safe under his protection.

  Darcy released a pent-up breath in a rush of air as he reached level ground again. Elizabeth appeared to have been crouched down and had now straightened and walked over to where Georgiana stood, putting an arm about her shoulders.

  Conscious of his cousin and Bingley arriving now and abandoning their mounts, Darcy called Elizabeth's name, and she raised her head and looked over her shoulder.

  The look upon her face would be ample reward for him for the rest of his days. Her love for him shone out of her as she ran across the croquet lawn and threw herself into his arms, and he held her close, breathing deeply, sending a silent prayer of thanks up above.

  They stood thus for a moment, and he could feel her heart pounding against his, felt her shaking body, and he tightened his hold upon her, whispering soothing words. Then, she stirred.

  'You must comfort your sister, sir. This has been quite a shock for her.' Elizabeth eased away from him, held his glance and reached up to touch his face, before stepping aside as Georgiana flew into his embrace.

  'Oh, Fitz! I was so frightened! I thought he was going to kill someone.'

  Holding her close, Darcy sent another prayer of thanks into the heavens, his eyes closed with relief, emotion choking his throat and making it impossible to speak.

  He felt the rush of air as his cousin and Bingley passed him at speed, and then opened his eyes to see his friend guiding his sisters down from a tree before sweeping them into his arms, both girls protesting loudly. The colonel was talking quietly to Miss Latimer, but then he stepped forward and bent down to inspect the prone form on the ground—Wickham!

  Releasing Georgiana into the care of Elizabeth, Darcy walked over to join him. Wickham's nose oozed blood; his sleeve was in tatters, and he was covered in food debris, some of which was being greedily consumed by the large hound now lying across his chest. Beyond that, Wickham looked like he was asleep at the base of the tree.

  'What happened?'

  The colonel straightened. 'He was waving the gun around,' he gestured to where the old shotgun now lay. 'When this hound emerged from the undergrowth and leapt at him, knocking him from his feet. It seems the gun went off by accident when it hit the ground, wounded the animal. We may need to put it out of its misery.'

  Darcy stared down at his old adversary. 'What of Wickham? We have him, but how do we silence him?'

  The colonel put a hand on his cousin’s shoulder. 'Well, old man, I think we need not dwell upon that. Wickham is not unconscious; he is dead.'

  Chapter Eighty-One

  Darcy stared at his cousin, all manner of thought rushing through his head. 'Who was it?'

  ‘None of them, thankfully.’ The colonel looked down at Wickham’s prone form. ‘It was the momentum of the hound knocking him from his feet, smashing his head into the trunk. It is an ancient tree, Darce, with far more substance than our old adversary.' He grunted. ‘It is for the best.’

  There was no denying the truth of it, and Darcy bent down to examine the hound’s injury. Blood seeped from a wound in its haunch.

  'We must get the ladies away from here; it is not fitting for them to see any of this.'

  The colonel shrugged. 'I think they have seen it all, and did their utmost to thwart Wickham, even if this canine saviour delivered the fatal blow.' He pointed to the debris of food scattered all about and to the ragged tears in the sleeve of Wickham's coat, along with the snapped arrows nearby.

  ‘I think it best if I remove these.’ Eleanor Latimer walked over to retrieve the broken arrows. She paused by Wickham’s body to look down at him. Then, she prodded him with her boot.

  ‘I must own, country pursuits in Derbyshire are most invigorating.’

  The colonel let out a bark of laughter. ‘Your aim is as good as you implied, Miss Latimer.’

  Darcy looked between his cousin and the lady. 'Did you encourage her to...'

  'I may have made a suggestion when we were talking last night. It would have been foolish to leave the ladies completely unprotected, Darce, even if we did think Wickham would make The Grange his target.'

  A whimper came from the hound, and Darcy looked around for something to staunch the flow of blood.

  ‘Here, Mr Darcy. Use this.’ Viola had freed herself from her brother’s embrace and hurried over with the linen napkin, shaking it to free it of any remaining crumbs.

  ‘Thank you.’ He looked searchingly at Viola. ‘Are you quite well?’ His gaze drifted over to Olivia. ‘And your sister?’

  ‘Yes, sir. We are unharmed.’ She looked down at the hound. ‘Poor thing. Can he be saved, sir?’

  ‘I do not know.’ Darcy applied the napkin with some pressure to the wound, holding the animal steady with his other hand as it squirmed and tried to wriggle free.

  ‘Steady, boy; we are trying to help.’ The hound raised anxious eyes to Darcy’s, held them for a moment, then lay still on his side. ‘We will need to remove the shot.’

  ‘We should fetch Mr Pickering!’

  Darcy frowned. ‘My head gardener?’

  Viola nodded as Olivia came to join her. ‘Indeed, Mr Darcy. We have seen him caring for some of your woodland creatures when they are injured.’

  ‘He is quite the wizard at curing their ills, sir.’ Olivia studied the wounded animal for a moment. ‘I am certain he will be able work his healing magic on this poor hound.’

  ‘May we help, sir?’ Viola gestured towards the napkin, and the colonel stepped forward to aid Darcy in lifting the animal away from Wickham’s body.

  Both girls then kneeled on the grass, Viola cradling the hound’s head in her lap, and Olivia taking over the application of pressure from Darcy.

  ‘I will fetch someone.’ The colonel turned away. ‘Ah, here comes Rivers with Bedivere.’

  A quick discussion between the steward, who had brought two of the estate workers with him, and Colonel Fitzwilliam saw the men dispatched to fetch carts, one to remove Wickham’s body to one of the sheds, another for the hound to bear him to the room used for medicinal care of the estate’s animals.

  Watching Rivers manage his men, Darcy mulled over what must be done regarding Wickham. A report would have to be filed with the local magistrate, but beyond that, he suspected no one would want anything further to do with the blackguard. Perhaps Wentworth could be persuaded to find him a barren corner of Kympton churchyard to bury him in? Darcy had no desire for his remains to rest in Pemberley’s chapel, or in the local churchyard at Edensor.

  'Brother?' />
  Darcy turned around as Georgiana join him, but she averted her eyes from the figure on the ground.

  'Come, Georgie. We must get you back to the house.' He looked around. ‘Where is Elizabeth?’

  ‘I am here.’ With relief, he saw her walking towards him, carrying a blanket of some sort. ‘We used this at the picnic earlier; I thought...’ she glanced towards the body, and Darcy stepped forward to take the offering.

  ‘Allow me.’

  He draped the blanket over Wickham, then turned back to the others. His sister was pale and anxiety was writ clear upon her countenance. He had yet to learn what had transpired between them all, and he feared what Wickham may have aired in front of the twins and Miss Latimer, but to his relief, his sister summoned a smile.

  'I was so pleased to learn of your engagement, Fitz. To know Miss Elizabeth is to be my sister brings me happiness beyond words.'

  Darcy turned to Elizabeth in surprise, but she shook her head. ‘It was not intentional, sir, to release such intelligence. I am afraid it came out in my desire to comfort your sister.’

  Reaching out to take her hand, he drew Elizabeth to his side. ‘I do not care if the world hears it.’

  'I would like to offer my congratulations too, sir.' Eleanor Latimer came to stand before them. ‘I wish you both every happiness, and I am certain you will have it.’

  Elizabeth smiled warmly at her. 'Thank you.’

  Darcy added his thanks. ‘Though I am not sure your father will be of the same mind.'

  'Talk of the devil.' The colonel inclined his head towards the lawn. 'Oh, forgive me, ma’am. I mean no offence; at least...'

  'You need not apologise to me, sir.' Eleanor turned to watch her father making his way towards the bank below them. 'I have called him far worse in my head these many years.'

  Darcy frowned. 'I think it would be best if he does not see what has happened here.'

  Eleanor nodded. 'Leave it to me, Mr Darcy; I shall say it was an intruder, nothing more.'

  They both watched as Miss Latimer walked swiftly down the bank to meet her father before he could ascend the rise. What she said to him, Darcy knew not, but he took his daughter’s arm and, after throwing Darcy an accusing look, turned to lead her back to the house.

  The colonel snorted. 'I think she may have just blamed you for something to divert his attention, Darce!'

  Turning away with Elizabeth on his arm now, Darcy shook his head. ‘It is more likely she placed any culpability upon you! Did you not encourage her involvement?' There was no response, and Darcy looked back over his shoulder. ‘Fitzwilliam?’

  Darcy frowned again. The colonel was staring across the lawns to where Miss Latimer walked with her father, but then he felt Elizabeth nudge him in the arm and incline her head towards his cousin.

  ‘What?’ Darcy looked between Elizabeth and his cousin in confusion. ‘What is it?’

  The colonel roused himself then, and Elizabeth mouthed ‘later’, a smile forming on her lips.

  ‘Did you say something, Darce?'

  ‘Nothing of any consequence, Cousin.’

  Offering his sister his other arm, they walked over to where Olivia and Viola knelt with the hound.

  'Who was that horrid man?' Olivia looked up from her ministrations.

  Viola let out an unladylike snort. 'We did not like him.'

  'Nor did we like the way he spoke to you, Miss Elizabeth.'

  'And he was rude to Georgiana.'

  Elizabeth laughed, and Darcy was relieved to hear the sound. Somehow, it brought a little normality to the most singular of scenes. 'It was inspired, girls, to pelt him with your apples.’ Elizabeth bent down and gave them each a hug. ‘Your aim with a larger object is vastly more impressive than with a bow and arrow!'

  Viola patted the animal’s head gently. 'Where did this fine hound come from?'

  Elizabeth exchanged a look with Darcy. ‘We have come across him once before; he has been neglected, and it is likely he was attracted by the food.'

  Olivia smiled. 'He is quite the hero, is he not?'

  Elizabeth laughed again. 'Indeed he is. Perhaps that ought to be his name!'

  She turned to Darcy, her expression sobering. ‘We must get a message to my father. Perhaps I should go home, explain the outcome in person?’

  It was uncanny how accustomed Darcy had become to having Elizabeth at Pemberley, and though he had known she must return to The Grange at some point today, he was still taken by surprise—and disappointment—at the notion.

  Before he could accede, however, Bingley joined them. ‘I will go, if you wish, Miss Elizabeth.’

  To Darcy’s relief, Elizabeth was happy to acquiesce. ‘You are very kind, Mr Bingley.’

  ‘Not at all; I had not finished my hand of cards with your sister, and it would be remiss of me to leave Derbyshire on the morrow without having done so!’ Bingley turned to address his sisters. ‘Are you sure you are quite well? I will not leave you if you wish me to stay.’

  ‘Do not be so silly, Charles.’ Olivia grinned up at him. ‘We are perfectly well, and besides, we are too busy looking after Hero to pay you any mind.’

  Suitably dismissed, Bingley took his leave, striding down the bank to retrieve his mount, and passing Rivers and his men as they returned with the aforementioned carts. The sorry business of removing Wickham’s body from the ground and lifting the now weary and un-protesting hound onto the blanket provided was soon done, and both carts rattled away across the lawn, Rivers leading his own mount and Bedivere back to the stables.

  ‘Come, then, ladies.’ Colonel Fitzwilliam led the way down the bank, and Olivia and Viola hurried to Georgiana’s side, each taking one of her hands.

  ‘You are safe from that horrid man now, Georgiana.’ Olivia spoke reassuringly, as though she was the elder, and Darcy and Elizabeth exchanged a smile.

  ‘We will look after you,’ piped Viola as they made their way across the lawn back towards the house.

  Darcy took Elizabeth’s hand and they walked slowly, some paces behind the others. ‘We have your father’s consent, but he wishes to speak to you.’

  Elizabeth squeezed his hand. ‘I hope he was not too hard upon you, sir.’

  ‘It could have been worse.’ Darcy lowered his voice. ‘Are you able to talk about what happened?’ He gestured towards the receding carts. ‘Did Wickham harm you—or anyone—in any way?’

  To his relief, Elizabeth shook her head. ‘He wished to injure us with his words, Mr Darcy.’ She bit her lip, her gaze on the twins and Georgiana. ‘It might be wise to speak to Mr Bingley; Olivia and Viola must have heard a great deal of Wickham’s claims, and they will need to be cautioned to keep it to themselves.’ She looked up at him. ‘I trust you will speak to your sister? She knew nothing of my former acquaintance with Wickham and it might reassure her to hear of our past dealings over him. She is a little subdued; I suspect she is distressed at the knowledge of her indiscretion becoming known to Miss Latimer and the twins.’

  ‘Yes, of course. I will speak to Georgiana as soon as we reach the house.’ Darcy hesitated. ‘And is that all? Did he not mention your own sister?’

  Elizabeth sighed. ‘Yes; yes, he was forthcoming on much. There will be no doubt in the minds of Miss Darcy, the twins or Miss Latimer over the disgrace of our family.’ Anxiety was writ across her countenance for a moment. ‘Despite Wickham being silenced, I am saddened such intelligence has been shared.’

  ‘Nothing will prevent me from marrying you, Elizabeth. Understand that.’ Darcy slowed their steps further as his cousin and Georgiana entered the house through the boot room. ‘Miss Latimer does not strike me as the gossiping type; we may be fortunate.’

  ‘I will find her and speak to her directly.’

  The twins had glanced back over their shoulders, but they disappeared inside as Darcy drew Elizabeth to a halt.

  ‘Twice in four and twenty hours I have feared for your safety, Elizabeth.’ He raised a hand to cup her face. ‘Tell me I mus
t not wait long to make you my wife, that I may place you fully under my protection. Will you marry me as soon as the Banns can be read?’

  Soft colour invaded her skin, but Elizabeth’s eyes sparkled. ‘Yes, please, sir.’

  He began to laugh, but the sound faded as he took in the expression of love shining out of her fine, dark eyes. Heedless of where they were, he leaned down and claimed her lips, savouring the feel of her mouth against his, his heart swelling with happiness as Elizabeth returned his kisses with equal fervour. They may well have indulged themselves for some considerable time, had they not been roused by a most distinctive ‘whoop’ drifting towards them from the house.

  Darcy raised his head just in time to see the twins’ skirts disappear back into the boot room, and Elizabeth laughed at the expression on his face.

  ‘I have a great fondness for the young Miss Bingleys,’ Darcy smiled ruefully as he took Elizabeth’s hand and they turned their steps to walk the last few paces. ‘But I shall not miss their lively interest in everything!’

  Chapter Eighty-Two

  Elizabeth found Eleanor Latimer alone in the music room, and she looked up as the door opened, smiling hesitantly.

  ‘I thought you might seek me out, Miss Bennet—I hoped you would.’

  Closing the door, Elizabeth walked over to stand before her, and Eleanor laid aside the harp lute she had been playing.

  ‘I am sorry to disturb your practise.’

  ‘Not at all; a little drama is all very well, but it is a comfort to return to more traditional pursuits, do you not find?’

  ‘Indeed.’ Elizabeth met the lady’s gaze frankly. ‘You know why I have come.’

  Eleanor nodded. ‘Let us be seated.’

  They settled on a small sofa overlooking the gardens, and she turned in her seat to face Elizabeth. ‘I know nothing of that man other than he was threatening both you and Miss Darcy. I heard what he said, of course, but I want to assure you of my confidence in all aspects of what happened today.’

  ‘I had every faith in being able to trust you, Miss Latimer, but I draw great comfort from your words all the same.’ Elizabeth drew in a breath. ‘Mr Wickham has a history connected to the Pemberley estate. It is not for me to speak of it, but as you probably could tell, he preyed upon Miss Darcy when she was but fifteen; her brother intervened in time to save her.’