Page 10 of A Letter in the Wind (Mayhem and Scandal Collection #1)

Darcy winced at Elizabeth’s angry tone. He refused to confess that he could not endure saying goodbye yet. He could not bear his heart to her. Alas, he would not see her again unless Bingley married Jane. Instead, he settled for an excuse centred on civility. “Leaving you without an escort would be rude and ungentlemanly.”

“I am not intimidated by the walk or the weather, sir.”

“Perhaps not,” he conceded. “I know you are a very experienced and capable walker. If you had begun the journey in solitude, there would be nothing wrong with you continuing it. Now, it would be indecorous for me to leave you.”

She rolled her eyes. “Very well, then.”

She stepped toward him, hand outstretched to loop through his arm. A forceful gust whipped through the garden and propelled her forward. She slammed into his chest, his arms wrapping around her. It was an accident, but it felt like heaven.

“Are you well?” he inquired before reluctantly releasing her.

“Only my pride is wounded!” She laughed. “What terrible but comical timing.”

He lowered his arms, and she stepped out from them.

“I suppose I cannot argue with you anymore.”

“Victory at last,” he said with a chuckle. “And to think of how many times I have cursed the wind!” He took her hand and wrapped it around his arm. “I shall protect you.”

Just for today, he thought. Just for today, he would allow himself the pleasure of Elizabeth on his arm and her laughs and smiles directed at him. He would leave on the morrow as planned, but how could he relinquish such beauty and liveliness earlier than necessary? He would soak up every second in her company.

They reached the edges of the town in mere minutes. Elizabeth smiled now and then at passing people she knew. “You seem to know many of the residents,” Darcy noted.

“Not all of us are taciturn,” she replied with a saucy grin.

He laughed in response. “I have been coming here since I was a boy. Unfortunately, I have had the disadvantage of being Lady Catherine’s nephew.”

“You are also Aunt Silly’s.” She cocked her head to one side. “I do not understand your relation.”

“She is Sir Lewis de Bourgh’s aunt. She decided to claim kin even if it is by marriage.” He paused for a moment. “Aunt Silly is…unique. I have never met another soul like her. She is laughter contained in a person. And it is a mark in my favour with the townspeople to be so well-loved by her. You may guess it, but Lady Catherine is despised in Hunsford. Her husband was tolerated even less, and I find I cannot blame them. All this is to say nothing about my other relations. The earl and his family, except Richard, are obnoxious and rude. Perhaps I ought to have more family loyalty and affection than that. Truthfully, they are most disagreeable, and I desire to have as little to do with them as possible.” After speaking, he realised he had unwittingly given her another piece of his soul.

“I am sorry you have such troublesome relatives. I understand how difficult it is to behave civilly toward a relation whom one does not respect. Thankfully, I have been blessed with the most loving and genteel aunt and uncle in Mr and Mrs Gardiner. My immediate family may give me reproach, and Mr and Mrs Phillips do us no credit, but at least I can enjoy a holiday with sensible people. Do you have any family on your father’s side that might give you pleasure?”

“No,” he answered honestly. The familiar empty feeling of considering his family was at odds with the radiance from the woman on his arm. “Father was the last of his line. Tell me more about the Gardiners.”

Elizabeth did not immediately reply. Darcy could not discern the cause of her reticence. It was not her usual behaviour. “Your mother’s father was a country solicitor, I believe,” he ventured. “Mr Gardiner did not wish to go into that line of work?” Immediately, he could see and feel that she had tensed at the question. Was she taking offence? What had he said?

“By the time he came along, the business was already promised to Mr Philips,” she said in a voice that did not carry her usual friendliness.

Darcy’s mind scrambled for a way to indicate that he did not condemn her relations in trade. “How enterprising. He must be a man with great energy.”

Elizabeth smiled. “Yes, he is. He is also very gentlemanly. I am not terribly biased for saying so. I have none of my mother’s prejudice and sensitivity on the subject. I have walked in both circles. I think my uncle’s behaviour warrants the term gentleman far above many who inherit the title from birth.” She shrugged. “In many ways, his character is my standard for gentlemanly behaviour.”

What sort of man would please her? Darcy had never wondered if he would measure up, but now he considered that merely wealth and education might not be enough. “It sounds as though you require a great deal of us.”

“Shall I give you a list of ridiculous and vain accomplishments?” Elizabeth raised a brow at him.

He chuckled and lifted a hand to repel her verbal attack. “Now, I did not have so many stipulations. Miss Bingley was the one with all the requirements.” He looked down at her, revelling in the memory of the conversation at Netherfield. She had been reading a book, and he could not keep himself from speaking in her defence or indicating his approval somehow. “I had only said a lady ought to have improved her mind with extensive reading.”

“I suppose that is correct.” Elizabeth furrowed her brow. After a lengthy pause, she spoke again.

“While I do not say that this catalogue is comprehensive, a true gentleman must attend to the needs and comforts of those around him, even if it inconveniences or pains him. He ought to be humble and not expect acknowledgement or praise. He makes each acquaintance of his feel valued. He would never make the other feel it if he was of a higher rank. If he is lower, he is not servile. He treats his wife and children like royalty.”

He tried to judge himself through her eyes. He winced, knowing he did not measure up. It was the most humbling thought he ever had. Did he have nothing in his favour? “You say nothing of his family or education.”

“He should be as well-educated as his rank and family income allows. A natural curiosity and intelligence will serve him well even after leaving school. Strictly speaking, his family is of no consequence to me.” She raised her brows. “Neither is his income—save that it is sufficient for a family.”

He said nothing in reply. What could he say? Those were her requirements. He had spent months believing she would not measure up to his. Then, he rejected the notion of marrying her even once he realised the depth of his regard. Now, the uneasy thought that he was not good enough filled him. Unexpectedly, she squeezed his arm. His eyes darted to her face; a playful smile rested on her lips.

“To all this, he must add something more. He should be tall if he can at all help it.”

The incongruity made him chuckle, easing the burden in his heart. She joined him in laughter as they entered the post office. It felt so good to laugh again. He did not care that they had drawn the notice of the patrons and staff. Elizabeth approached the counter and pulled her letter from her reticule.

“Another one to London, miss?” the matron asked.

“Yes, please.” Elizabeth pulled another letter from her bag. “And this one to Longbourn, Hertfordshire.”

The woman took it with a nod in acknowledgement. “And you, Mr Darcy? Do you have a letter for your sister?”

“Indeed, I have happy news for her! She will be elated after reading it.” He shared a look with Elizabeth.

The clerk took the papers before going back to check for incoming mail. While they waited, a lady approached and stood silently for a moment.

“Miss, may I compliment you on your choice of glove?” she said to Elizabeth. “Those are quite exquisite.”

“Oh! Thank you!” Elizabeth held out her gloves for her to inspect. “You do such lovely work. I have admired many pairs and other things in your shop. I wish I could say I selected them, but they were a gift from someone with superior taste.”

Alarmed at what he heard, Darcy turned to see the town milliner, Mrs Harris. From the look she gave him, she recalled his purchase yesterday. Would she mention it to Elizabeth? He should not have lied and said they were from Silly. Had the woman known about them, she would have offered to replace the gloves. He had concealed the truth and lied because he wanted the pleasure of presenting Elizabeth with a gift. How stupid he had been!

“Thank you for your compliments. What a fortunate lady you are.” She glanced at the clerk who had just returned before continuing to talk. “I thought I recalled this selection. I had thought then that it was an unusual choice for the person, but now that I see the recipient, it all makes sense.”

Darcy tensed, but the woman said nothing else. Perhaps she found it unusual that he would buy anything from her or for a lady. He forced his mind to calm. She might not know that Elizabeth was no relation to him. She might not be thinking of impropriety. Hopefully, she was not a gossip in any case. “Have you found anything?” he impatiently asked the clerk.

“There was nothing for you, sir. However, this came for Miss Bennet.”

Elizabeth took the small packet of letters and thanked the woman. Then she said goodbye to Mrs Harris. Once outside, Darcy expected Elizabeth to ask about his strange behaviour or, at the very least, scold him for it. Instead, she seemed most affected by the letters she held. A few of them seemed rather heavy. From the concerned look on her face, it was unusual and made her anxious. She looked at one in particular in alarm.

Darcy led them out of the post office and several steps down the lane before softly asking, “Do you wish to read it now?”

“Surely it can wait,” she answered.

“You have grown alarmed merely from reading the names. Why does that one distress you?”

“My father is a terrible correspondent. He does not engage in letter writing for pleasure. I fear something is amiss at home.”

“It could merely be that he misses you.” He would miss her terribly. A numb ache filled his chest.

“Thank you for your concern. Perhaps, if you will take me back to the parsonage directly, I can read it in privacy.”

“Of course.”

He looked down at her as she placed her hand on his arm. Did she realise it was the first time she asked for him to escort her? Did she notice how well she fit tucked into his side? Yearning filled him. She grew pensive and silent. A week ago, he would have flattered himself that she did not want him to leave. Perhaps she even desired a proposal. Now he understood that she had never liked him. Well, at least that was mended.

The apology to Jane was sent. When Bingley married Jane, Darcy would see Elizabeth more often. That is until the dreaded day she married someone else. What was there to be done? She wanted to love her husband and be desperately loved in return. He was hopeless in inspiring her love. He was too new to the entire idea of romantic love not being a sign of weakness or insanity. In truth, he remained uncertain it was not in his case. He knew the blood that ran in his veins.

Despite the whipping wind, they walked through the streets of Hunsford. This would be Darcy’s last day with her, and he wished it would never end. Reaching the edges of the town, they passed the long lane where Aunt Silly lived. It was an older house on a decent parcel of land but with no tenants. It was convenient to the village but not within its limits. It reminded Darcy of Lucas Lodge in Hertfordshire, and he wondered if that was one reason why Elizabeth enjoyed visiting. No, surely it was those within that drew her. If only he could promise that she could see them whenever she wished.

Elizabeth tugged on his arm. “Might we stop in? I have determined that you are correct, and there is no reason to read my father’s letter immediately. Silly may have returned from her errand, and I would dearly love to visit with her.”

Darcy was about to beg off. Elizabeth wanted to thank Silly for the gloves, which might expose his lie. Unexpectedly, something else caught his interest. “Do you smell how the smoke is stronger here?”

It was not unusual for fires to burn in the middle of the day as residents discarded refuse. Additionally, the recent wind made the temperatures cold well into March, meaning fires persisted to burn hot in many homes. Aunt Silly often had a large fire in the drawing room until May. Then, there was the kitchen fire that never went out and the additional fires on wash day. The strong wind could carry the scent some distance. Even with such logical considerations, the hair on the back of his neck stood up, and his senses seemed on alert.

They rounded the corner and saw smoke billowing from the side of the cottage. Immediately, Darcy moved into action. He ran to find water, Elizabeth following in pursuit.

“I will look in the other direction,” she cried.

As Darcy drew nearer the house, he recognised that the flames had caught from the outside fire for washing to the ivy climbing the cottage. It had not engulfed the entire house yet but had penetrated the wood exterior and now raged in the dining room.

Terror filled him. He had lied to Elizabeth earlier. Silly and Patty had not told him they planned to call on friends. Were they trapped inside now? Grabbing a bucket from the garden, he kicked open the drawing room door. The fire had not yet burned through the wall on this side. The clock above the mantel struck the time, and dread filled Darcy’s heart. It was Patty’s nap time. Had Silly laid down too? He called out for them. Where was everyone else?

“Mr Darcy?” Elizabeth tip-toed empty-handed around the broken glass. “Thank God they are not home. What about the servants? And the dogs?”

“Run to the nearest neighbour, Elizabeth.” He turned to look at her. “No matter what happens, promise me you will not enter this house again.”

“I should help you!”

“It is not worth the risk!” The thought of anything happening to her tortured him. “You can assist me most by gathering others and water—as much as we can find. Unfortunately, Hunsford has no fire brigade.” Elizabeth did not move a muscle and instead stared off into the distance. “Go! Now!” he commanded.

She finally flinched. “Have a care, Darcy. God be with you!” she cried before fleeing.

Darcy thought fast after he was assured of her safety. Where was the fire most likely to spread? The kitchens were downstairs, whereas the bed chambers were above. Silly did not employ many servants. There was a maid of all work and a boy who ran errands. There might only be enough time to go in one direction: up or down. How could he make such a choice? In desperation, he prayed. “Lord, direct my steps. Who should I seek first?”

As he entered the main hall, he heard the dogs barking upstairs. It seemed as much an answer as anything else. He took the stairs two at a time, noting that while the heat was not as fierce, the smoke was much worse.

“Silly! Patty!” He shouted as loud as he could.

He opened the doors until he found Silly crumpled halfway between her bed and the door. A table was knocked over with shards of a broken vase surrounding her. The dogs had run out as soon as the door opened.

“Save Patty!” She cried when he moved to come to her. “She is upstairs!”

“I will be back for you!” he promised.

Racing to the final floor, he found Patty crying in her bed. He scooped her up. Then, stopping at Silly’s door, he set the child down. She grabbed at him.

“I need you to be very brave and listen to me!” She was too hysterical to hear him. “Can you be brave like Miss Betsy? She is outside waiting to see you.”

“Miss Betsy is here?” Tears persisted, but the shrieking had ceased.

“Yes. Now, Aunt Silly is very hurt. I must carry her down the stairs. After I collect her, I want you to climb onto my back and hold on tight.”

Patty nodded. Darcy left her at the entryway. Reaching Aunt Silly, he realised she had fainted. He was unsure if it was due to fear, excitement, or loss of blood. Her leg was terribly broken and bloody. He scooped up Silly and told Patty to hoist herself onto his back. Then, he carried his precious cargo down the stairs.

Elizabeth was just outside with several waiting ladies. Ethel and Lucy yapped at her heels. He heard men shouting from the back rooms. Patty launched into Elizabeth’s arms. He laid Silly on a makeshift cot on the lawn. Then, he went back in. Patty cried after him, but he could not shirk his duty to render as much assistance as possible.

Collecting more water from the pump in the garden, he ran back into the house. Seeing through the dark clouds that billowed around him was nearly impossible. The scent of smoke and soot choked him and stole his breath. The heat was incredible as he drew nearer the rear of the house. Several men were working to no avail. The fire had breached the back half of the house and now consumed the joists to the floor above.

“Has anyone checked downstairs? There are servants—”

“It was empty,” a man said, panting between words.

A piece of ceiling fell. “We must leave!” Darcy ordered. “The house will not stand! All of you go!”

When the last bucket was tossed in vain at the blaze, they finally relented. Darcy ensured that all the others had safely exited the room. Only then did he follow. Just after he reached the main hall, the ceiling behind him gave way. The force of the debris crashing to the ground threw him to the floor. Smoke enveloped him, but all he saw was black.

He awoke in the grass, the scent of ash attacking his nostrils. At first, he lay there confused and pained. Suddenly, he remembered it all. He tried to sit or even talk but could only cough and wheeze. Where was Elizabeth? Patty and Silly? Did they survive?