He wondered at her family, allowing her out without a servant. A little voice within him reminded him he often rode out unaccompanied. He began to look about him more carefully. If he could find a stout stick, it would help her support herself as she made her way into the village.
Her gasp startled him and he glanced up at her. She was turned sideways, bent over and she slid down off the horse.
“What is it, Miss Bennet?”
“Don’t be seen, sir!” She was turned away. “I just hope they didn’t recognise me.” She put out her hand towards a tree and hopped round it. Then she sank to the ground.
“Go! Now!” she hissed at him and he hesitated.
“Who is it?” He risked a glance along the side path. An older couple were strolling along. The tenseness in their shoulders and their studied gaze away from him told him that they had seen him. But perhaps they hadn’t seen Miss Bennet’s face. She’d certainly been very quick to react.
“Go, sir!”
This time, he did. “Thank you, Miss Bennet. I hope you get home safely.” He turned the horse away and led it downhill with studied nonchalance. Perhaps the couple would think he was leading a lame horse. Perhaps they hadn’t seen Miss Bennet with him?
It was a forlorn hope. But he was new in the neighbourhood and they would not know him. It was to be hoped they did not come back to find Miss Bennet.
It was further than he thought to Shenley and the afternoon was drawing on. He stood at the edge of the woods, looking the mile or so to the village. Perhaps he’d be better not to call there, but to make his way through the woods on another path.
He wished he could have assisted her further but he dare not even go there and hire the hack chaise. That would most certainly start gossip.
He made his way up through the woods and round the brow of the hill. He’d avoid Meryton and go on the other road to Netherfield.
Even as he rode away, he couldn’t keep his mind away from thoughts of her. She would still be making her way to the village. Perhaps she would wait for a while, to make sure he was gone before she approached anyone for help.
One thing he could be sure about, she didn’t know who he was, she could hardly know that — or she might have been more determined to snare him.
The horse was tired now, and he let it walk at a leisurely pace while he thought of the afternoon. Certainly he must not attend any of the country occasions for a few weeks, he’d do well to keep his presence in the country quiet.
Perhaps he should go back to London. Apart from Bingley and his family, nobody knew he was here. But perhaps it would be cowardly of him to go back to London.
Miss Bennet would be here, struggling to get home, suffering pain from her injury, and unable to walk in the countryside, which she had vouchsafed to him as her pleasure. So even if they had not been discovered, she would have a hard time of it.
And if they had been seen — his heart sank. He might be safely out of it. She didn’t know him, didn’t know his name. But she would be tainted by the association. Her name would be on everyone’s lips. Ruined, through no fault of her own.
His lips tightened, and he drew up the reins, getting the grey’s attention, and began trotting home. He needed a drink.
Would it have been better had she been left in the woods? No, of course not, she was far too shaken to be able to remain there for long without becoming very ill indeed.
He told himself that over again. He wished very much they had not been placed in the position they had been, but he thought he could not have behaved any differently.
He just hoped very much that he — they — had got away with it. He was extremely glad when he saw Netherfield. He needed a drink very much indeed. It was just a pity he could not mention what had happened to anyone. He would have liked to talk it over with a trusted friend.
Chapter 4
“Oh, Lizzy! Lizzy! You are ruined! We are all ruined!” Her mother’s shriek echoed through the house and Elizabeth’s heart sank.
Three days she had been sitting here, her foot heavily bound and raised on a stool and she was happiest when she was upstairs in her bedchamber. But she could not stay there all the time, and she was a captive audience to her mother’s complaints, only relieved by the frequent diversion of Lydia and Kitty quarrelling.
Her mother’s voice in the hall echoed through to the sitting room and Jane and all her sisters looked up curiously. Elizabeth closed her eyes, wishing she could sink through the floor.
“What is it, Mama? What is it?” Lydia ran to the door and watched as her mother entered the room, her arm dramatically against her forehead, her bosom heaving, and collapsed in her chair.
“My smelling salts, Jane, my faintness! Oh, Lizzy, you bad, wicked girl!”
Elizabeth watched with resignation, wondering what had transpired for her mother to have discovered what had happened.
Aunt Philips followed her sister into the room and sat primly on the sofa, her lips pursed in disapproval. Ah! Elizabeth knew her aunt was an inveterate gossip, collecting information from several villages around. She must have talked to the Stephensons, and they must have recognised her on the gentleman’s horse. She sighed.
“Well?” Mama sat forward in her chair. “Well, Lizzy? I am waiting.”
Elizabeth forced a placid smile. “Waiting for what, Mama?” She was certainly not going to admit anything until she knew what was being said about her, and as little as possible after that.
She looked down. But she would like to know the name of the gentleman who’d rescued her at such risk of being obliged. Her dreams since then had been punctuated by the tall, lean figure striding into her sleep and taking her into his arms. She’d like to know his name — ‘sir’ wasn’t very satisfying. She hid a smile.
“Lizzy!” Her mother sounded goaded to distraction. “You must tell me what happened! I insist upon knowing.” The ribbons on her cap wobbled as she leaned forward and tapped Elizabeth’s knee. “You have disgraced us all!”
Elizabeth looked up suddenly. “How? How have I disgraced you?” Anger burned in her. Her mother had not been at all sympathetic to her for the last few days, and complained about the necessity to pay for the hack chaise from Shenley, and the cost of the apothecary.
Papa and Jane between them had done what needed to be done, and Elizabeth was relieved to feel Jane’s hand stealing into hers.
“You told us you had walked into Shenley from the woods when you’d hurt your ankle.” Her mother glared at her. “Did you hit your head, too? Have you forgotten that Mr. and Mrs. Stephenson saw you on a gentleman’s horse, being taken through the woods?” She fanned herself.
“On your own! In the woods. With a strange gentleman!” She stabbed a finger at her daughter. “Who was he? I demand you tell me who he was!”
Jane’s fingers tightened in hers. Elizabeth closed her eyes and took a deep breath. What would happen now?
She was not ruined. Nothing had happened. She raised her head and looked fearlessly at her mother. “What do they say they saw? I think they might have seen someone else, Mama. I do not recognise what you are saying.”
Aunt Philips sucked in air through her teeth. “Lizzy! Do not do this to your mother! You know what happened and you know you were seen!” She shook her head ponderously. “How could you do it?”
Elizabeth stared at her. “Do what, Aunt Philips?” She let her voice sound surprised.
“You know what you did!” Aunt Philips sniffed disparagingly. “Mrs. Stephenson called this morning. She came yesterday, but I was out. It was very kind of her to call again to give me the news.”
Elizabeth watched her aunt silently, waiting for her to continue. She was an inveterate gossip and would be unable not to impart what she knew.
Aunt Philips looked sideways at her sister, whose noisy sobs threatened to drown out the news. She raised her voice.
“They were walking together in the woods above Shenley on Tuesday morning, Lizzy. Mrs. Stephenson says they were s
urprised to see a gentleman in very fine clothes leading a big grey horse. And even more surprised that you were on the horse, being led down towards the village.”
She sniffed again, disgust and salaciousness together in one sniff. “They felt it would be impolite to keep watching, so they pretended they had not seen, and when they looked again, you were hiding behind a tree and the gentleman was leading the horse away as fast as he could.” Aunt Philips sat back, satisfied at her audience who were all hanging on every word. Elizabeth stared at the ceiling.
“Aunt Philips, think about it. You know I have not been on a horse for many years, that I am too frightened to ride.” Elizabeth knew her hopes were fading, the Stephensons had quite obviously seen enough. And she was truthful; if asked outright, she couldn’t lie. It was perhaps as well that she didn’t know his name. She could say so honestly.
Her chin came up, and she caught Jane’s eye on her. Her sister looked absolutely devastated.
“Is it true, Lizzy?” she whispered.
Elizabeth bit her lip. What could she do, but be truthful? She turned to face Jane, whispering back. “I was very grateful for his assistance. You have seen how I am affected, I cannot walk and I might have damaged my foot beyond the chance of recovery.”
Jane’s eyes were wide. “But why would you hide behind a tree, if that was all that happened?”
Elizabeth sighed. “Because I was frightened of what might happen — of what has now happened. Mama will say I am ruined, and my life will not be worth anything.”
Jane squeezed her hand. Elizabeth felt a little better and turned to face her mother and aunt.
“What are you accusing me of, Mama?”
“What am I accusing you of? Lizzy, you are a bad, wicked girl! You are ruined! — I always wondered what you did when you spent so long walking alone in the country.” Her mother’s eyes were narrowed and suspicious.
Elizabeth was disgusted. “You forget yourself, Mama! I was merely enjoying the country and reading when I injured my ankle. I was very fortunate that I have not — I hope — done any permanent damage.”
“And what else happened?” her mother demanded.
Elizabeth shrugged. “Nothing. I was struggling to reach Shenley, and the gentleman was riding past. He was assisting me to somewhere I could get help. I was very grateful at the great risk he took.”
Her mother looked avaricious. “Mrs. Stephenson says he looked an exceedingly well-bred, rich gentleman!” she smiled. “He will have to marry you now. What is his name, Lizzy? Where does he live?”
Elizabeth tried to hide her disgust. “Mama! I will not marry him! Nothing happened, he is not obliged to me.” She drew a deep breath. “I do not know his name, and I never saw him before. I do not think he lives in the country.”
Her mother sat on the edge of her seat. “We will find him, Lizzy. You will be married! I insist on it!”
Elizabeth sat forward. “But he is gone, Mama! Nobody knows who he is. If you continue to spread the story that I am ruined, it will affect the whole family and cannot be relieved.”
Chapter 5
Darcy stood in front of the fire, allowing it to warm his legs. He took a sip of tea, unsatisfying.
“Oh, Mr. Darcy!” Miss Bingley sat forward on her seat. “You have been quite out of sorts these past days. I insist that you join us in a game! It will take your mind away from whatever ails you.”
He frowned. He did not want to play cards, his concentration the last few evenings had been abominable. But perhaps he could force his mind to it. “Very well. But let us have a change. We might play commerce instead of loo.”
Miss Bingley expressed her delight and soon the whole party was seated around the card table. Darcy took his turn at dealing and settled the pack neatly on the table. It had been three days. Surely the risk was over by now? He hadn’t gone to London, but hadn’t ridden out, either.
Perhaps it would all soon be forgotten. He wondered how soon he could forget, how soon Miss Bennet would be recovered, and whether she thought about him at all.
“Louisa and I called on Lady Lucas this morning, as you requested, Charles.” Miss Bingley was waiting for her turn. “They are a most vulgar family.” She laughed heartily and her sister sneered.
Darcy stared at the inlaid design on the card table, wishing he was seated by the fire with a good book. But it was always like this. He didn’t understand in the least the enjoyment the ladies got from gossip and general conversation. He knew the defect was within him and he resented it.
“Did you know there is a great scandal in the town, Charles?” Mrs. Hurst looked over at her brother. “It came out only yesterday, so the news is causing great excitement.” She rolled her eyes.
“Yes!” Miss Bingley picked up the tale with enthusiasm. “Apparently a friend of their eldest daughter injured her foot out walking and was rescued by a gentleman. She was seen by a couple from the next town, who hastened to tell all their friends about it. She is compromised and the whole family is ruined.” She laughed unpleasantly. “I think Lady Lucas is secretly quite pleased. This family has five daughters and now they are no longer in competition with the Lucas daughters.”
Darcy’s heart was pounding in his chest. He could barely hear anything over it. He must not say anything, not unless he had been discovered.
Fortunately Bingley asked what he needed to know. “But it seems that nothing happened. It is most ungenerous to rejoice in such an unfortunate event!”
“Oh, Charles!” Miss Bingley berated him. “She should have been more careful, had a servant with her. She was most foolish — and so also was the gentleman!”
Darcy felt himself flush. He clenched his jaw, made himself look through his cards, hoping that no one would look at him.
Bingley picked up his cards. “So has the gentleman made her an offer?” He sounded as if he wanted to change the conversation.
“That is the most amusing part of it, Charles,” Mrs. Hurst said. “The girl denies knowing who it was. She is refusing even to describe him or say anything at all that might help find him out.” She put her first card down with relish. “Your turn, Mr. Darcy.”
Darcy bit his lip and selected a card at random, placing it on the pile.
“But she is quite ruined,” purred Miss Bingley. “I cannot think why she is so reluctant to make sure that he makes an honest woman of her.”
“Perhaps he is no gentleman!” Mrs. Hurst sneered. “She can certainly be no lady!”
“This is a fine way to play cards!” Mr. Hurst took exception to the gossip, and pulled the attention of the group back to the game, to Darcy’s unutterable relief.
He was left to ponder on what he had learned, and later, as he sat in his bedchamber while his valet fussed around him, he was able to think.
“Thank you, Mr. Maunder. Bring me some whisky, if you please.” His valet nodded and soon Darcy was alone, holding his glass, staring at the flames.
It had happened. He had been found out. Well, she had been named by this couple from Shenley and the town had decided she was ruined.
He took a gulp of his drink and walked to the window. He stared out at the darkness beyond the pane.
Perhaps it might all have blown over, been forgotten. But if the town had more young ladies than marriageable men, as was common in wartime, the removal of a large family of sisters from the competition would be seized on by other families. They would ensure it was not forgotten.
He scowled. Perhaps he is no gentleman! Mrs. Hurst’s words echoed in his head. Of course, she didn’t yet know it was he, but now he knew of Miss Bennet’s ruin, he had no choice. Because he was a gentleman.
He leaned his forehead against the cold glass pane. He ought to have returned to London. He’d never have heard of it, then. But now he knew.
He returned to the fireside and sank into the chair, his heart too heavy to support him. He leaned back, and closed his eyes.
But she is quite ruined … She can certainly be no lady! B
ingley’s sisters had spoken only what others would think of Miss Bennet.
His lips tightened. He remembered how anxious she had been that they would not be discovered, that she did not want him to be obliged.
Miss Bennet was more of a lady than the Netherfield ladies would ever be, but he knew with a sinking certainty what he had to do.
It might not yet be known that he was involved, but without him, she was ruined, and he had learned enough this evening to know that she would suffer long for his actions and assistance.
He poured himself a glass of water from the carafe on the table and sat back in the chair. He would not sleep tonight.
Tomorrow, he must do his duty. It felt like a prison sentence.
Chapter 6
Darcy dressed with care early the next morning. He had slept a little in his chair, but he knew he must do this now, today, before the ignominy of being discovered and having his hand forced.
He’d dreamed a little of her, the memory of her ankle and her shapely leg had woken him. But he was bitterly resentful of the dictates of the society in which they lived.
He must marry her, to preserve her reputation. But he did not have to like it, and he certainly would not do anything to make it other than a sham.
Georgiana would be sad. He wondered how he would tell her. All his plans were now as dust. After he was gone, she would inherit Pemberley and he must devote himself to assisting her to be ready for that and to ensuring she married someone suitable to take Pemberley forward.
He called for his steward when he went downstairs. He was a good man. “Mr. Leigh, I need you to find out the direction to the estate of the Bennet family. When you’ve done that, I’ll need you to arrange horses and accompany me there. And tell the coachman to ready my coach. I’m returning to Darcy House later this morning.”
He couldn’t imagine sitting through lunch with Bingley’s sisters. “Oh, and tell my valet to pack.”
A Life Apart Page 2