by Abbey North
Lizzy hugged her, wishing fervently for the same. She didn’t want to make a false promise to Anne. It was her sincere hope she could identify the blackmailer and get the situation in hand when she had his or her identity, but even if it proved beyond her, she was determined to help. She might not be able to find the blackmailer, but she could certainly get a Runner for Anne when she traveled on to London in a few weeks.
She hoped to put the matter to rest before then, and Lizzy was startled to realize she was looking forward to the challenge. She was appalled at whatever was lacking in this person’s moral makeup to allow them to create such a horrid scheme to deploy against Anne, who had little happiness as it was. She was determined to expose them without exposing Anne, but she relished the challenge of doing so, both for justice and for her own curiosity.
Lizzy excused herself from Anne a short time later, deciding she needed to speak with Carlos as well. She hoped he would be receptive to conversation, and she made her way to the stables. Not being much of a horsewoman, her anxiety increased as she neared the stables, and the horrible thought occurred to her that perhaps Carlos was the one blackmailing his lover.
Maybe he wanted to get a payoff so he could afford to leave, and he’d seduced sweet Anne with that plan in mind. She was predisposed to dislike him as she entered the stables, quickly identifying who she thought might be Carlos by his swarthy complexion and dark black hair, along with a neat beard and mustache. She approached him, trying to sound polite, though she had halfway convicted him in her mind already. “Are you Carlos?”
He nodded as he bowed to her. “I am. How may I help you, miss?”
“I know about you and Anne,” she said quietly.
His demeanor changed, moving from obsequious to angry in seconds. He was practically in her face a moment later. “You are the blackmailer. What an underhanded, dastardly person you must be. I demand you leave Anne alone. If you were a man, I would call you out.”
His aggression made her take a step back, but there had been an accusatory note in her own tone, so she could hardly fault him for reacting so strongly when he’d assumed she was the blackmailer. She was actually pleased he had done so, because it indicated he was protective of Anne, and she was able to mostly dismiss her semi-formed theory that he might be blackmailing his lover.
She lifted a hand, making her voice more soothing. “I am not the blackmailer, and I am not here to threaten you, Carlos. I simply wanted to know if you had any information that might help me identify who is blackmailing her.”
His anger faded slightly, and he took a step back. He seemed to be trapped between disbelief and relief for a moment as he stared at her. “You are not here to expose us?”
Lizzy shook her head. “I am not. It is my belief Anne needs every bit of happiness she can find, and if you make her happy, it matters naught to me what your station or position is. I figure she has enough money for both of you.”
His shoulders stiffened again. “I am not with her because of money, miss.” His words were cold, his rage underscoring them. “I know what someone like you would believe, but—”
Lizzy lifted her hand again. “You do not need to defend yourself to me. I certainly did not intend to insult you in any fashion, Carlos.” It was strange to use his first name, but she’d never learned his last name from Anne, and she didn’t want to interrupt the flow of conversation to exchange greetings and introductions. “I simply want to help. If you love her, I am pleased, for I worried there was more to your actions than simply caring about her.”
He still looked stiff, but he sounded surprisingly unoffended when he said, “You assumed I was blackmailing her after seducing her?”
Lizzy bit her lip as she nodded, wondering if she should be so blunt with her admission of the truth, since it was just the two of them in the stables. Despite his initial aggressive reaction, she realized she didn’t feel afraid of him. “The thought occurred to me.”
His shoulders slumped slightly. “That is why I tell her we cannot truly be together. There will always be someone who assumes we are together for my nefarious reasons, or because she is a fool. I do love Anne, but she deserves someone better than me.”
Lizzy scowled at him. “Love seems like the most fundamental component one needs, Carlos. Do not let the judgment of others keep you from happiness.”
He seemed to be mulling over her words as he nodded, but he didn’t address them directly. Instead, he said, “I can only infer someone must have observed us at an inopportune time. Miss Anne has her regular morning rides, and we are sometimes able to have a few minutes alone together. Otherwise, there are nights when she sneaks out to see me in my quarters outside the stables.”
He flushed at the words. “You must not think ill of her. I would marry her if I could, but that is more dishonorable than what we are currently doing, for marrying her would bring her nothing but misery.”
Lizzy frowned at him. “I think it would bring her happiness, Carlos.”
He sighed heavily. “Until her mother disowns her, or until Lady Catherine orders me to be murdered, and I disappear. I can see no way for us to be together, but the compulsion draws us together anyway. I cannot bring myself to send her away, though I love her and know it would be better for her.”
She realized there was little she could do to persuade him, but she hoped Anne would have better luck convincing him not to be so noble. Instead, she said, “So you think it is someone who might have observed you during your rides, or perhaps seen her slip out at night?” At his nod, she allowed her thoughts to focus on that, though it did little to bring her a clue of the identity of the blackmailer. It could’ve been any number of people on the estate, or even people adjacent to the estate.
With a sigh, she said, “I have told Anne I will try my best to find the blackmailer, and I intend to do so.”
He looked hopeful. “I hope you can do so, for it rests heavily on her.”
“So does the indecision of the relationship, I would imagine. It must be difficult for both of you to be constantly fighting what you feel. Perhaps you would both do better to accept it and fight for it.”
Carlos looked grim. “It is easy to say that from an outsider’s perspective, but if I were to be intractable, to dig in and insist on making Anne my bride as is our wish, how would her mother react? What might she do, and not just to me? You must think me cowardly, but I am not. I am trying to be pragmatic. If Lady de Bourgh killed me, it would destroy Anne, but you do not know the depths of the woman’s rage. I fear she might destroy Anne as well in her need for vengeance. That is why I cannot give in to Anne’s pleas to run away, or to marry her. Perhaps things will be different when Lady Catherine dies.”
“I certainly hope so.” Lizzy licked her lips, wondering if she dared ask an indelicate question. “What if there were to be a child from your liaison, Carlos?”
He flushed, clearly not wishing to discuss the subject. “There are ways to prevent that. That is all you need to know, miss.”
Lizzy was content with that explanation, and she took her leave from Carlos a short time later. She hadn’t learned anything particularly useful for identifying the blackmailer, but at least she was able to confidently strike Carlos from the list.
She wished he would be bolder and accept Anne’s offer to run away, but she could see the pragmatic reasons not to as well. He seemed to genuinely fear Lady de Bourgh as well, and she couldn’t blame him. The woman was fierce, and Lizzy wouldn’t want to be standing between what Lady de Bourgh desired and her getting it.
She walked for a bit, trying to think, but she wasn’t certain how to put together the pieces. What seemed the most logical course was to show up at the drop point and watch for the blackmailer to pick up the package, and that was her plan as she made her way back to the rectory.
She was surprised to find a wagon parked in front of the rectory, and there were four burly men carrying stacks of marble to the back garden. She paused by it, admiring how pretty the m
arble was as Mr. Collins oversaw the dispersal. “No, put that pile over there. Yes, right there. It will be much easier for me to position the tiles. Thank you, my good men.”
He was too preoccupied with his order to pay much attention to Lizzy, so she slipped past him and entered the rectory. She found Charlotte in the sitting room, and her friend asked, “Have you had breakfast?”
Lizzy started to answer, but her stomach rumbling replied for her. “I believe I completely forgot it. I got engrossed in my walk.”
Charlotte frowned in disapproval. “I thought you were out rather longer than usual. The grounds around the area are lovely though. I shall ring for Mrs. Tesch to bring you a tray.”
“Thank you. That is most thoughtful.” Lizzy sat down and poured herself a cup of tea from the tray in front of Charlotte as she waited for breakfast. “Speaking of lovely, it looks like Mr. Collins will be renovating his garden again.” It was a usual project she had seen him undertake many times during her visits.
Charlotte rolled her eyes, but with a hint of gentle enjoyment. “It keeps him busy for many hours each day, so of course, I heartily endorse it.”
“The marble is very fine indeed. I am surprised Mr. Collins could acquire such a thing.”
Charlotte waved a hand. “I have no doubt it was either a castoff from Lady Catherine, or she decided Hunsford’s garden was too shabby and must match the splendor of Rosings Park. There is no declining a gift from Lady de Bourgh when she is insistent upon giving it, regardless of the wish of one to receive it or not,” said Charlotte with a little twitch of her lips.
Lizzy laughed. “I can well see that about Lady Catherine, and of course, Mr. Collins would never reject any offering from his patroness.”
Charlotte shook her head as Mrs. Tesch brought in a tray. “Undeniably, he would not, for Lady Catherine is correct in all things.” The two women dissolved into giggles for a moment, and Lizzy saw Mrs. Tesch grinning like she wanted to join in as she left the room. Likely, the housekeeper had at least heard enough about Lady de Bourgh, if she had not met her, to appreciate their humor and understand its origin.
5
Darcy spent that day and most of the next pacing and fretting, unable not to think about the kiss he had exchanged with Miss Bennet. He had been the one to instigate it, but she certainly hadn’t pushed him away. He’d never expected to discover such passion with her, and that he couldn’t stop thinking about the exchange was vexing.
No matter how he tried to remind himself how unsuitable she was, going so far as to continuously list her shortcomings and her family’s faults in his mind as he carried on his business throughout that day and the next, he couldn’t seem to convince himself kissing her had been little more than tolerable.
It had been life-altering, and he was forced to evaluate his interactions with her in a new light. It was disconcerting to realize there was more than attraction involved in the situation. He had come to care for Lizzy. Perhaps more than care for her. When he first had that realization hours after the kiss, he immediately rejected it as nonsense. He was far too wise to do such a foolish thing as to fall in love with a woman like Elizabeth Bennet.
For all her failings, she was quite a woman though. With her intelligence and quiet beauty, along with her ability to engage his senses in every way, it was hardly surprising he had formed a tendre for her.
When he realized that, he accepted it with a little less hostility that time, though he still tried to forget it. He continued to reject the concept, but as the thought kept returning to him throughout the day and into the next, he reluctantly reached the conclusion he loved Lizzy Bennet.
He couldn’t pinpoint exactly when it’d happened, but there was no denying he felt it. He loved her to the extent she preoccupied his thoughts, and she was leading him to all manner of actions he’d never considered before. For goodness sake, he’d investigated the thefts with her, and he had spent time with her alone for hours in the woods as they waited for Wickham to arrive at the shed, hoping to identify him.
He’d kissed her in his aunt’s sitting room after exchanging angry words with her, and that hadn’t even been the first time they had argued so vehemently. If he couldn’t break free of his misplaced adoration, he would likely not recognize himself within a year.
That was enough to help him resist for a while longer, but within two days of having kissed her, he found himself resigned to the state of loving her, and furthermore, he didn’t think he could be happy without her. It was a galling position in which to find himself, but he was determined to face up to the truth, so he set out that morning with the intent of finding her, hoping she still maintained her morning walks even while visiting Hunsford.
He felt like he had been over half of the property before he finally caught sight of her sitting against a tree on a hill. He approached quietly, not with the intent to sneak up on her, but simply because he was still trying to talk himself out of this course of action. As a consequence, she didn’t realize he was there until he had a chance to read the letter over her shoulder.
His mouth dropped open in shock as he read the allegations against her. She was engaging in an affair with a groom at Rosings Park. He could hardly imagine her brazenness, let alone the speed at which she moved. She’d only been a guest in the area for a week or so.
He was appalled, not just that she could behave so recklessly, but that someone had already picked up on her actions. She had ruined everything, and he couldn’t hold back his anger when he marched around to face her. “What kind of low character do you have, Miss Bennet?”
Her eyes widened at the accusation as she jumped to her feet, hastily folding the letter. He realized there was a second one as well. She glared at him with her hands on her hips. “Whatever are you on about now, Mr. Darcy?”
He gestured to the letter. “You are having an affair, and someone is demanding payment to keep quiet.” Her eyes narrowed as she looked down at the letter, and then she laughed at him. It almost brought his fury to a boiling point, and he had to take several deep breaths to maintain control.
“I am not the one being blackmailed, Mr. Darcy, but I should hardly be surprised you would think I am.”
He arched a brow in skepticism. “You are the one holding the letter, and the contents are damning.”
“I offered my assistance to the injured party to find the blackmailer. I assure you, it is not me.” She spoke with proud confidence, her shoulders stiff as she glared up at him. “It is not your concern either way.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “Tell me who is being blackmailed then?” He was hardly surprised when she shook her head. “Because there is no one besides you. You are the guilty party.”
Her eyes widened, and she looked incensed. “If I were the one being blackmailed, I would be the victim, not the guilty party.”
He snorted. “A woman who cavorts with a groom, one she could hardly know, is very much to blame for her situation if she is blackmailed because of it.”
She glared at him, practically seething with enmity. “You are once more passing judgment and making condemnations. Yet again, you do not fully grasp the situation, but you are quick to rush in with conclusions. It must be quite painful to be so narrowminded and rigid, Mr. Darcy.” With those words, she turned and marched away from him.
He wanted to rush after her, to continue the confrontation, but he was certain she wouldn’t say anything to him now. No, he would simply turn up where she was supposed to meet her blackmailer and discover the full sordidness of the situation for himself. He would rescue her if he could, but her deeds proved once again he couldn’t maintain the course of action he had decided upon earlier in the morning when he’d set out to find her. He had been a fool, but this incident brought him back to his senses, at least enough to realize it.
He was dismayed to see the Collins couple and their guests were at Rosings Park for dinner again that night, and he did his best to avoid interacting with Lizzy in any fashion. She se
emed equally determined to ignore him, and she took a seat at the table far away from him. As dinner progressed, he kept finding his gaze wandering to her, though he tried to forbid it to do so.
At first, he was so angry with her that it took him a little while to realize she was deep in quiet conversation with Anne, who looked distraught. Suddenly, it occurred to him maybe he had misjudged Lizzy, and perhaps she was genuinely helping someone else. Could that be his cousin?
He could hardly credit the idea due to her ill-health, and the iron fist with which Lady Catherine ruled her, but it also seemed preposterous in retrospect to think Lizzy might be engaging in an illicit affair with a groom she’d known less than a week. He was confused, but he was determined to keep an eye on the situation, and he observed after dinner that the women continued to speak quietly over tea, at least until Lady Catherine admonished them about whispering together and being rude. After that, their conversation was more generally engaged with everyone, and the guests left a while later.
He waited until Lady Catherine was busy getting herself together before approaching Anne, saying softly, “Are you all right?”
She looked at him with her eyes wide, and her expression haunted. “I am fine,” she said in a tone that wasn’t at all convincing. “Why do you ask?”
“I did not realize you were such good friends with Elizabeth Bennet?” He phrased it as a question.
She shrugged. “She is a lovely young woman, and I enjoy conversing with her.” Anne opened her fan and started furiously waving it in front of her pale face. “If you will excuse me, Fitzwilliam, I find myself dreadfully tired this evening. I believe I will retire now.”
He nodded his head. “I hope you sleep well, Cousin.”
When Anne had left the drawing room, Fitzwilliam went with Richard, and they returned to their own quarters. He waited a little while before slipping out again, not bothering have his valet helping him undress. He suspected he might still need his clothing yet.