Darcy's Kiss

by Claire Iverson

  At her precipitate arrival Denny lifted his head, his dark eyes narrowing with recognition, while Maria spun around with a gasp. Upon seeing Elizabeth, she quailed into the circle of Denny's arm, one hand pressed to her mouth.

  Denny spoke up immediately, sounding remarkably cool considering the circumstances. "You have every right to be angry," he said. "And you're certainly entitled to an explanation; this is not how—or where—" he cast a distasteful glance at Elizabeth, "—convention dictates Miss Lucas and I should meet."

  "It's so kind of you to concede to me the right to protect this young girl," Elizabeth retorted with withering sarcasm. "And Maria's father and sister prefer that she not meet you at all, in any location. You cannot be unaware of how they feel, or you would not have resorted to a clandestine rendezvous. Surely you can see that Maria is too young to be encouraged in an action that could so easily destroy her reputation!"

  There was a hot flush beneath the tan on his cheeks. "You misunderstand. It was not I who insisted on meeting thus, but Maria. It is my desire to make Maria my wife, and I would have preferred to approach her father at once, but you must see that I couldn't run counter to Maria's wishes, no matter how painful to me they are. I want the world to know she is mine. Such secrecy has been repugnant to me!" He broke off, the force of his feelings apparently overcoming him.

  Elizabeth lashed back, "You call her yours? How can you believe you might be acceptable to her father? Your reputation as a fortune hunter precedes you, sir!"

  His flush darkened still further. "I was never that! You confuse me with someone else," he said vehemently. "I can't deny that I've lived beyond my means, and that I had creditors with cause to reproach me, but I would never have married to remedy my situation. In any event, no one can stop us if we are in love."

  Elizabeth stared hard at him.

  She could have sworn he was bewildered. Understanding was creeping into Maria's face, and her eyes widened still further. "Lizzy!" she whispered. "You cannot think... How can you think such a thing?" Her voice rose hotly on the last words.

  Denny looked from one girl to the other, his puzzlement evident. "Think what, Maria? What is it Elizabeth believes?"

  Maria did not remove her accusing gaze from Elizabeth. "Is that what you suspect, Lizzy?" she asked quietly.

  Elizabeth bit her lip and nodded. She had hoped to hide her suspicions from Maria until they were confirmed; she had no wish to hurt the girl unintentionally. It was with regret, therefore, that she said, "I'm sorry. Somebody is trying to kill me. It seemed to make sense, you see."

  "Perhaps someone might care to explain," Denny suggested, his tone ironic. "I am beginning to develop a very uneasy feeling."

  "Lizzy thinks you hired someone to kill her," Maria announced flatly.

  His mouth literally dropped open for a second; then he began to stutter, "Kill her! Are you mad? I've heard some absurd accusations before, but this? What would make you think—"

  When neither girl responded, he finally took a deep breath and looked straight at Maria. "Surely you don't believe such a thing?"

  Maria smiled up at him, her expression soft and warm, as loving and trusting as a child's. "Of course I don't, silly! And if Lizzy knew you as I do, she wouldn't, either."

  Reassured as to his beloved's faith, Denny turned his attention to Elizabeth. "Perhaps you might enlighten me as to why you do believe it. In fact, you might tell me why you think anyone is trying to have you killed."

  Elizabeth's gaze faltered as she felt her certainty begin to slip away; perhaps she had been infected by Maria's loving confidence. Matters were not coming out as Elizabeth had intended them to. She had imagined Maria hanging her head in shame, with Denny defiantly confessing his vile intentions.

  She felt no powerful need to see him punished, if he was not guilty. But what if she died because she had mistakenly believed him and allowed herself to feel safe? No, she needed to know for certain, one way or the other.

  Elizabeth said calmly, "Surely, Mr. Denny, Maria has told you about my accidents."

  "No. That is, yes, she mentioned a near mishap with a coach, but as you weren't hurt I didn't think that anybody gave the matter much thought. There are many careless people about, you know, and with town so crowded..." He shrugged. "An occasional accident is the result."

  "And do you think it was carelessness," Elizabeth inquired sarcastically, "that sent a bullet through my shoulder when I was waking in the churchyard during the middle of the day. It seems a very peculiar place to come across a stray bullet!"

  There was a little silence; then he said, "No, I doubt that was carelessness. But the other might still have been. Please don't think I'm belittling your fear, but it might well be that the man who shot you was a lunatic, who didn't even know who you were." The words were nearly an echo of Elizabeth's reasoning when it was still possible for her to delude herself.

  Maria said, "Yes, we thought something of the kind also, but then—I was going to tell you today. On our way to a dinner party at Rosings, we were held up on the way by a man in a mask."

  "A highwayman?" he said in quick alarm. "I can't bear to think of you in danger!"

  "She was in no danger," Elizabeth interjected dryly. "It was me he forced out of the coach."

  "He was going to shoot Lizzy!" Maria chimed in. "He held the pistol pointed straight at her head. I couldn't look!"

  "And then what happened?" he impatiently urged. "Obviously he didn't succeed."

  "Mr. Darcy rescued Lizzy," she said dramatically. "He crept through the woods and shot the man, just before he could pull the trigger! Darcy killed him," she added with relish.

  "Under the circumstances," Denny observed, "that was a pity." There was a short silence as he heard his own choice of words; then a horrified look spread across his lean face. "That didn't come out precisely as I intended it," he said hastily. "It's just that a conversation with the man might have proved most instructive."

  "Yes," Elizabeth agreed. "Mr. Darcy said much the same. He would have preferred to wound the man."

  Elizabeth wondered if she and Maria were telling Denny anything he didn't already know. Then she realized that, even if he had hired the highwayman, he must have been mystified as to his fate. The local authorities had doubtless buried the man without making any great effort to ascertain his identity. To his employer, it must seem as though he had vanished from the earth.

  As though he had read her mind, Denny went on, "I can readily understand why you think your life is in danger. What I fail to understand is why you suspect me in particular."

  "I should think that was obvious," Elizabeth said with contempt, all the while watching his changing expressions with close attention. "Whom should I suspect? To the best of my knowledge, I have never made an enemy. I simply asked myself who would benefit from my death. Perhaps because I threatened to tell Charlotte if I suspected Maria was seeing a man in secret, you sought to have me removed from her life—permanently. I'm sorry, Maria," she added gently.

  Maria's white brow creased. "You don't think I...?" she began.

  "Do not fret, my dear," Denny reassured her. "There is only one difficulty," he said to Elizabeth. "I have never even wished for your death, far less taken steps to put such a desire into execution. Even if the world stood between Maria and me, I would not do such a thing. I had my fill of killing on the Peninsula."

  "Mr. Denny is very brave," Maria said proudly.

  He ignored this irrelevancy. "I cannot expect you to place any great faith in my word. The fact is, however, that I do not need approval or permission. If Maria becomes my wife, I will have all I could wish for."

  "You enjoy having creditors hound you?" inquired Elizabeth with skepticism. "Knowing your suit cannot be acceptable to her family?"

  "I have paid my debts," he said stiffly. "And I am perfectly able to support Maria in comfort. I am determined to make my case to her father."

  Elizabeth had a peculiar sensation, as though the ground were shif
ting under her feet. "Have I misjudged you?" she asked slowly.

  "You had no way of knowing. You see," he explained, "this past winter I inherited my great-uncle's estate. It's not grand, but there's a snug little manor in Yorkshire, with adequate room for a family, and a well-run farm. There's even enough in funds to provide for extras. But Maria doesn't think it's enough to satisfy her father," he finished.

  Elizabeth looked in astonishment at Maria. "Maria, what makes you think your father would object? He wants only what will make you happy, I am sure."

  "I once heard Papa talking about how none of the boys back home would do for me," Maria said. "Papa was positively cruel to Mr. Clarke when he tried to dance with me that time. I assumed it was because you all wanted me to marry someone really wealthy. You've said so many things since we came to Hunsford, Lizzy, as though you had such expectations."

  "Maria," Elizabeth exclaimed. "All any of us have hoped for," she went on, "is that you would make a respectable match with a gentleman who could provide adequately for you and would care for you. I sometimes imagined, because you're so beautiful, that you might marry high, but I neither expect it nor care whether you do. I just want the same for you as I do my own sisters—I want you to be happy. I had hoped you would not settle for some silly boy because there is no one else."

  "Do you mean that?" Maria's face began to glow.

  "Of course I do," Elizabeth said staunchly. "If what Mr. Denny claims is true, then I feel sure your family will bestow his blessing, and you know I will. And also..." She gave Denny a troubled look. "It begins to look as though I owe you an apology. To suspect you of such a heinous crime as attempted murder with so little reason is unforgivable. You must be very angry with me."

  "Of course I'm not," he exclaimed. "You didn't know me, and so had no reason to trust me. In fact, to the contrary. And I think your reasoning was very sound." He hesitated. "Has it occurred to you to wonder where my disqualification leaves you? If it is true that someone is determined to have you dead, you must find out who that is. Perhaps some imagined slight, far in the past..." The dissatisfaction he felt at these explanations sounded clearly in his voice.

  Elizabeth ruefully agreed. "Yes, clearly I need to think it through again."

  After a moment he went on, "I'm sure you've considered it, but was this last attack one that had to be planned beforehand? Anybody could have followed you to the church, but holding up a coach is another matter. Was it a lonely road, where the man could be certain of remaining undisturbed? And how did he know your coach from others that might have passed?"

  "I am certain it was somebody who knew our plans in detail," Elizabeth said flatly. "That's one of the reasons I suspected you. I felt sure Maria would have told you when we intended to travel."

  "But I didn't!" the younger girl exclaimed. "The last time I saw Mr. Denny was before you were shot, and I had forgotten all about Lady Catherine's dinner invitation until Anne reminded me. He was leaving for Meryton, and we haven't met since. So you see, he didn't know."

  "It's true," he agreed. "I had no idea of your plans. In fact, I've been waiting every morning for the past three days for Maria to walk here, half afraid she had decided not to come again."

  "Please, you don't need to explain," said Elizabeth in mortification. "I must ask your pardon for holding such dreadful suspicions."

  Before he could respond, Maria said, "Lizzy, how did you know I was meeting anybody at all? I thought I'd been so careful. You must have followed us today."

  "And why did you believe it to be me?" Denny asked.

  Elizabeth explained. "I became suspicious because you've changed so much, Maria. Your spirits have leapfrogged up and down, and were generally only high after these walks. In fact, it seemed to me you enjoyed walking far too much for a young lady who had never cared much for exercise."

  "I've been horrid to you, haven't I?" Maria exclaimed, tears springing readily to her vivid blue eyes. "I just couldn't help it! I wanted so badly to tell you about Denny, but I've been afraid to. As long as no one knew, I could at least hope. I'm so glad you've found us out."

  "Was it Mr. Denny you met in the garden at Rosings that night?"

  "I knew that was a mistake," he muttered.

  "It was romantic!" Maria said rebelliously. "I wanted to walk with you, not that silly Colonel Fitzwilliam. All he wants to do is pay me absurd compliments, or else brag about his station, as though I should care for such frivolous topics of conversation."

  Elizabeth had to smile at this picture of the colonel. She said, "That is precisely why I felt sure you were meeting Mr. Denny. You spoke about him in a far different way than you did about any of the other gentlemen you met. It seemed to me that Mr. Denny looked at you in a very particular way as well."

  The lovers exchanged shy smiles.

  Elizabeth turned impulsively toward Denny. "Why don't you walk home with us now, Mr. Denny, and speak to Charlotte? I can explain the circumstances to her, and I'm certain she would be happy to act in Sir William's stead for the moment, although, of course, she couldn't authorize a betrothment. But she could hear in more detail about your estate. If she makes a recommendation, there would be no difficulty at all. You must be anxious to have it settled."

  "Very," he agreed, with the tiniest tremor in his voice. He looked down at Maria with such overwhelming emotion in his eyes that Elizabeth had to swallow and glance away in embarrassment. How desperately she wished Mr. Darcy would look at her with such love in his eyes. She shook her head, banishing the vision. It was hopeless to dream so foolishly. Instead, she should be occupying her mind with something more immediate: If it was not Maria and Denny who wished her dead, who could it be?

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Elizabeth lay awake long into the night, swathed in the cocoon of bedclothes, hearing the occasional clatter of hooves on the cobblestones outside. She thought of the day that had just passed, and of what it meant for her own future. Today's trail had proved to be false, but she had seen signs that pointed another way. She could not give up the hunt now.

  That afternoon, Charlotte and Mr. Collins had remained closeted in the study for over an hour with Mr. Denny, but when they emerged, Charlotte was obviously satisfied.

  She confided privately to Elizabeth that she thought the match to be all they could have hoped for. "There was a time," she confessed, "that I thought Maria might look as high as she wished for in a husband, but obviously she is indifferent to such success. Besides, I think we must admit she has not taken well in society. Although her manners are pretty, she displays a lack of animation, of confidence, that gives her an appearance of shallowness." She glanced quickly at Elizabeth and hastened to add, "Falsely, of course. I think Denny and she will be well content with each other, and that is far more important than worldly success. I'm convinced Mr. Denny has his affairs in order, and I know of nothing else to his discredit. And Maria looks very happy, does she not?"

  "Yes, indeed. You will speak with your father on their behalf, then?"

  "I think it would be best. Perhaps Father can meet Denny in Yorkshire for a tour of inspection, and then, if all is approved, they could return to Lucas Lodge for the wedding. I see no cause for delay, do you?"

  "None whatsoever. They are certainly eager, and I have no doubt Maria knows her mind. For her to have been brave enough to meet Denny against our wishes certainly argues for that,” Elizabeth responded.

  "Speaking of engagements—it is Mr. Darcy who concerns me now."

  “Mr. Darcy?" Elizabeth asked.

  “I've been meaning to speak to you about him," Charlotte said, somewhat to Elizabeth's surprise. “Tell me, do you suspect his betrothal to Miss de Bourgh to be serious?"

  “I do not know." Elizabeth stared at her friend. “This is the first time I am hearing of their engagement."

  “Mr. Collins told me they have been promised to each other since Anne's birth. Lady Catherine insists on seeing it come to fruition."

  “Whether he is actually co
nsidering her as a wife I haven't any idea." Elizabeth refused to falter as she continued, “He is far from forthcoming to me, you know."

  "I had noticed some resentment," Charlotte admitted. She picked up an inlaid brass paperweight from the desk and began to fiddle with it, tossing it from hand to hand.

  "Is there something I should know about?" Elizabeth asked quietly. "It's not like you to fuss."

  She grinned ruefully. "No, it isn't, is it? My husband has given me little cause for worry. Not that he's perfect, mind you, but he hasn't yet gotten into any difficulties from which he couldn't extricate himself. I wouldn't concern myself about Mr. Darcy, either."

  "You must know more than I do," Elizabeth said. "I've only met Anne on a few occasions. I must admit I was uneasy around her because I know so little of her."

  "You were quite right to be uneasy," Charlotte said bluntly. "After talking with Mr. Collins, I did some checking. I found nothing disreputable, but Anne is not at all what she seems. She'd like us all to believe she's helpless—oh but I believe her to be an ambitious young woman."

  "Because of Mr. Darcy?"

  Charlotte made no effort to evade her question. "Because of her attempt to undertake a husband at all. Perhaps she is even genuinely fond of him. But whatever her motivation, she won't do for Mr. Darcy." She gave Elizabeth a knowing look. “Should I warn him?"

  Elizabeth was not as surprised by Charlotte's story as she might have been. Although her worries on the subject of Anne had been unformed, vague, based on little more than her own instinctive dislike of the girl, they had been present nonetheless. And, of course, the attempts on Elizabeth's life had given her cause to view many people with suspicion.

  “I fear Mr. Darcy would be angry," she said slowly. "He hates to be reproved for his conduct and would think you were interfering where you didn't have cause or authority. Still, he knows the state of affairs concerning his aunt and her daughter. It is difficult for me to believe that Mr. Darcy would knowingly jeopardize his own future. So perhaps a hint..."