Page 11 of A Letter in the Wind (Mayhem and Scandal Collection #1)

Elizabeth saw Mr Darcy rouse from where they had laid him on the ground near the side of the house. Her knees buckled. She grabbed the side of a shed until she regained her strength. Around her, mayhem continued. After she had sounded the alarm, neighbours in the village arrived with wagons of water. They had finally put out the flames, but it would be some time before they could assess the damage. The nauseating stench of smoke clung to everything, and she was sure she would smell it for weeks.

Miraculously, Darcy had rescued Aunt Silly and Patty in time. Even the dogs had been saved. Then, he had returned to the blaze to direct the efforts downstairs. Elizabeth had watched in growing dread as more and more men came out of the house, but he remained inside. The men reported that Darcy was bringing up the rear. All of the sudden, there was a loud crash, and the house shook, and he had not emerged. Terror and anguish clawed at her as others rushed to the house, searching for Darcy. She could not formulate clear thoughts for a proper prayer. However, she inwardly cried to the Master of the Universe that Darcy would be spared. “Not him!” ripped from her innermost heart.

When they brought him out, relief flooded her—until she saw he did not move or wake. She was compelled to tend to Silly and Patty as the apothecary and surgeon moved to Darcy’s side. After settling Patty in the arms of a motherly neighbour, Elizabeth turned and saw Darcy lightly lift his head.

Summoning her remaining energy and strength, she moved forward on wooden legs. Darcy appeared to be trying to speak. He began coughing, his body shaking with the effort. Without thought, her feet began to run, reaching his side in only a moment.

“Eliz-Eliza—” He could not finish speaking as another violent coughing fit took him.

“He is asking for someone,” the apothecary said before helping Darcy roll to his side as the latest spasm of coughing ended in vomit.

“I am here,” Elizabeth said as she knelt beside him, her knee landing on the soiled grass. She did not care. His lips were slightly blue, and his face was covered with soot. She reached for his hand, crying as he gripped it tightly.

“We need to elevate his head,” the apothecary said as he grasped Darcy’s head. “Miss, would you—”

Elizabeth scooted so his head could be cradled in her lap.

“I was going to ask if you would find something to prop him up.”

Elizabeth ignored the remark. The man was mad if he thought she would leave Darcy’s side now. He took several deep breaths, and the blue tinge faded from his mouth. Elizabeth wondered if she had ever seen anything more beautiful than the return of signs of life.

“Eliza—” He managed to peek open his eyes. The blue irises contrasted sharply with the red around them. He reached up and stroked her cheek.

She clasped his hand to her face. “Don’t speak. Just breathe and rest. I am safe, and you rescued Silly and Patty, too. Even Ethel and Lucy made it out of the house.” He tried to speak again, and she touched his lips with a finger. “Hush. Now is the right time to be silent and unsociable.”

His lips twitched just a little, and his eyes fluttered close. He took a few deep breaths before reaching a steady rhythm. Elizabeth felt him relax against her. She bowed her head over him and thanked God for protecting all of them and, most of all, for saving Darcy. Soon, her body shook as sobs racked her. All the distress of the last thirty minutes assailed her and released the only way she knew how.

“Is he dead?” A female voice said from behind her.

“No, he lives, and I think will recover in a few hours,” the apothecary answered.

“The poor thing,” the woman said before touching Elizabeth’s shoulders. “Come now, my dear.” She tried to coax Elizabeth from the ground.

Elizabeth looked up to see men with a homemade litter approach. The surgeon’s wife held Darcy’s head while the first woman helped Elizabeth to her feet. She watched as the apothecary gave instructions on how to move Darcy onto the cot. Her tears had fallen on his face, removing the soot and leaving only a few streaks.

“Eliza!” Charlotte called from a few feet away. She reached her side and pulled Elizabeth into her arms.

Elizabeth continued to watch Mr Darcy while she embraced her friend. “Where will they take him?”

“They have a cart,” Charlotte said. “They are taking him to Rosings. He is unharmed—”

“But the smoke—”

“You spoke with him. We can do nothing more, and Lady Catherine’s staff can take care of him best. Come with me.”

“I must say goodbye to Aunt Silly and Patty.”

“They were already taken to Mrs Thatcher’s house.”

Elizabeth nodded in understanding. Reluctantly, she allowed herself to be led by her friend. Someone offered to convey them to the parsonage. Mutely, Elizabeth allowed herself to be lifted to the back of a wagon as it hauled her away from the village. Once at the house, Charlotte assisted Elizabeth up the stairs, helped clean her up, and put her to bed.

*****

It was after dinner the following day before Elizabeth arose. Her dreams had been full of haze and smoke. Mr Darcy weaved in and out of them, beckoning to her but always just out of reach. She awoke with a start, and memories of yesterday flooded her mind. She blushed to remember her conduct toward Darcy but felt her reaction only natural and just. She had spent every day with Darcy, and settling Jane’s situation made her understand him a little. When she was sure all her other friends were safe, what else should concern her but Mr Darcy, who had selflessly risked his life and was willing to sacrifice himself for others?

She stared at her hands for a long moment. There was a nagging thought that there was more to it than that. How had she been so wrong about Mr Darcy? She had thought him unfeeling and arrogant. She had believed him too pretentious and self-centred to be more than a lazy, wealthy young man. Instead, he had repeatedly proved her wrong. No matter how much she scolded or abused him to his face, he never faulted her or thought meanly of her.

Elizabeth had always felt burdened to defend others. She was taught that her sisters were her responsibility. This frame of mind extended to many others she met. It was why she believed Wickham’s lies so readily. She had a compulsion to rescue others. She should not blame Darcy for his actions to save Bingley if she were honest with herself; she would have done the same for Charlotte if she had the power. Elizabeth saw now that she shared that trait with Darcy. She greatly admired his selfless and heroic actions of yesterday.

She had spent her lifetime trying to prove herself to others. She tried to be worthy and good enough for her mother—but time and again, Mama demanded things that violated her sense of justice and right. Darcy seemed to respect that about her. She could think of no other friend she had that allowed her such freedom to be herself besides Jane. She did not count, of course, because Jane could never be unloving. Admittedly, Elizabeth had seldom convinced her sister to change her mind on anything, yet she had seen Darcy capitulate. That flattered her vanity and soothed her nerves a little. She now realised how incorrect and prejudiced she had been about him, but she had also been right about many things. Her thinking was not as faulty as she had begun to fear.

Charlotte’s quiet steps sounded in the hall, followed by a gentle knock. When given permission to enter, she carried a tray with tea and refreshments.

“How are you feeling?” Charlotte asked in a quiet tone. She put the tray down on the nearby table and then sat on the edge of the bed.

“I am exhausted,” Elizabeth admitted. “I believe that is more from the distress of it all. I was entirely unscathed. How is—” Elizabeth longed to ask after Darcy, but Charlotte had a peculiar look in her eye. “How is Aunt Silly?” The surgeon said the break was not as terrible as first believed. The blood came from a minor cut due to the smashed vase—not from the bone piercing the skin.

“She and Patty had a good night. I called on Mrs Thatcher earlier today and was informed they had rested well. The child’s parents are to arrive tomorrow.”

“Will they be taking her home?” Elizabeth hoped she could say goodbye to little Patty before she left.

“One can only imagine. I suppose they might take Aunt Silly too. Patty’s mother is her niece, Sir Lewis de Bourgh’s much younger half-sister. There is no love lost between Silly and Lady Catherine.”

“Do they know how this happened? Why was the fire left unattended?”

Charlotte sighed. “Silly is a very indulgent mistress. Her maid of all work went to talk with her sweetheart in town while the water boiled and the laundry steeped. The wind did the rest.”

Elizabeth’s shoulder sagged. “I hope no one is too harsh on her. It is doubtful she could have done much to stop the fire. Thank God Darcy and I arrived in time to save Silly, Patty, and the dogs.”

“Charlotte!” Mr Collins called in a sharp tone from the bottom of the stairs.

“Oh, I had better go,” Charlotte said as she stood. “He just returned from Rosings and must have something to report.”

Elizabeth enjoyed the tea and biscuits her friend left before wandering to the window. Restlessness filled her. Would Mr Collins know how Darcy fared? She sighed to herself. If he did, he would share it soon enough. The man could never hold his tongue.

She looked toward the village. She should ask Charlotte what was being done with Silly’s house. She knew nothing of construction or had any experience with cleaning beyond the most basic tidying, but she could follow instructions. She ought to go help. The neighbours had work to do. Why should she sit around and do nothing?

Lost in thought as she was, she did not hear Charlotte’s approach until there was a timid knock on the door. Elizabeth gave her leave to enter and turned to look at her friend. Charlotte looked pale and uncomfortable as she hovered in the doorway.

“What has happened?” Dread filled Elizabeth. Did Mr Collins bring terrible news from Rosings? Panic strangled her throat. “Is Mr—I mean, is everyone well?”

“Pray, calm yourself and do not interrupt me. I loathe what I must do.”

Elizabeth moved to the chair and fixed her eyes on her friend. She folded her hands neatly in her lap but hid her thumbs from view. She whirled them against each other at terrible speed. The desire to jump from her seat and shake Charlotte until she spoke was incredible.

“I am afraid that I must tell you something grave.”

Elizabeth’s stomach sank. This was her fault. She could have done something—

“This evening, you will return to London. Mr Collins has arranged for a ride to the coaching stage, and then you will take the mail coach.” Charlotte twisted her hands in front of her. “I am terribly sorry that I must send you so soon without notice. There is no time to inform your relations or wait until the morning so you can arrive in town at a more appropriate hour.”

Of all the things Elizabeth expected, nothing could shock her more. She gasped forcefully, incapable of keeping her surprise silent. “What has happened? Why must I leave this way?” It would be dark before she reached Gracechurch Street!

“Eliza…” Charlotte paused momentarily before finally entering the room and sitting at the small table. “I know your helpful nature. There is nothing you would not do for even your enemy. You are too good and loving to care for propriety in moments of crisis.” At Elizabeth’s confused look, she continued. “Yesterday, with Mr Darcy—”

“I am being sent away because Mr Collins has imagined some evil I have done with Mr Darcy? I was helping the doctor and giving him aid! The man nearly died and—”

“It was not only my husband; the gossip includes more than your free behaviour outside Silly’s house.”

“Yes, I suppose Lady Catherine gave him instruction.”

“She did, but do you forget how often you have been in Mr Darcy’s company the last week? You have been walking with him for hours daily despite the terrible weather.”

“You know how I hate being cooped up in a house.” Elizabeth glanced down before continuing. “I have not been a very companionable friend. There has been much on my mind.”

“I do understand. I, too, find much to consider during the day. There are frequent outings to the village and parishioners to call on. Even Mr Collins must tend to his garden.”

Elizabeth hid a smirk. She had immediately deduced that Charlotte preferred to get Collins out of the house as often as possible.

“Just the same, yesterday, I saw you embrace Mr Darcy from the parlour window. You recall Mrs Thatcher was visiting.”

“That was not an embrace!” The wind had knocked her into Darcy.

Charlotte took one of Elizabeth’s hands. “You clung to his arm, and then he walked you through the whole village. He made a spectacle and showed you off, laying claim to you. Surely, he knew the attention he would draw. Then, there were the gloves.”

“Aunt Silly’s dog chewed them up!”

“Why did Mr Darcy buy you new ones?”

Heat slapped Elizabeth’s cheeks. She had hesitated before accepting them from Darcy. In the end, she believed they were from Aunt Silly and that it was harmless that he presented them. Secretly she enjoyed imagining that a handsome, sensible young man had bestowed a gift. She had believed her wishful thinking was well-hidden from others. “Silly replaced them. I would have told her it was unnecessary.”

“Mrs Harris swears it was Darcy. She noticed you wearing the pair in the post office. Can you agree that she would recognise Mr Darcy and remember his purchase?”

“Then, he bought them in Silly’s stead. They were not a gift to me.” Were they? Surely, he had bought them at Silly’s behest.

Charlotte nodded. “I believe you, Eliza. I do. I know you would never stoop to such arts to entrap a husband. I also know you think lowly of him and always planned to marry for love.”

“I like Mr Darcy now,” Elizabeth whispered her confession. “I esteem and respect him. I was wrong. Now, he has been accused of things because of my behaviour.”

“He is not so innocent,” Charlotte explained. “I have not been the only one to notice how he looks at you. He singles you out. I do not know if he has ever perceived it himself, but you are a favourite with him. It is quite apparent in a man with such a taciturn reputation.”

Elizabeth deflated. She did not believe Charlotte’s insinuation that Darcy admired her as anything more than a friend. In spite of that, arguing would not quiet the cynics. “What is the worst of it? You have not told me everything.” She braced herself.

“Why were you approaching Silly’s house alone with him? There has been talk that you intended an illicit encounter with only an elderly, infirm woman and a child occupying the place.”

Tears fell from Elizabeth’s eyes. How could anyone believe this of her? Of Mr Darcy? “You cannot think this is true,” she said weakly.

“I do not, but Eliza, it has been unwise. I ought to have counselled you better. Indeed, you do not know the sometimes-vicious nature of the Hunsford folk to say nothing of Lady Catherine’s jealous mind.”

“I am sorry it has been so terrible for you here.” Elizabeth reached a hand across the table to grip Charlotte’s. “You deserved a better friend. One who spent more time with you. I have been selfish.”

“I would never say that. When you planned this visit, my sister was to be present as well. You never envisioned having to be my only companion and the sole guest. I know you bore it as long as possible, and even a few hours in your company daily were a pleasant change.” She stood and looked about the room. “I will send your trunk up and return to help you. You must leave within the hour. That should leave you time to get on the seven o’clock coach.”

“What is going to happen, Charlotte?”

“With any luck, none of this terrible chatter will leave the confines of Hunsford. Lady Catherine would surely not wish it to get about.”

“Indeed.” That her hoped-for son-in-law sampled elsewhere, especially with a relation of her rector, would be catastrophic. Perhaps that would be enough to protect Elizabeth’s reputation.

Charlotte left on her errand but did not immediately return. Elizabeth set about the chamber, moving as quickly as she could. How could anyone think this of Mr Darcy? Did they not understand how noble and honourable he was? She, at least, was a stranger to the area. It was only natural for the residents to think meanly of her. Of course, a single lady without fortune or connection will attempt to entrap a wealthy young man. If it were not for having met Silly and Patty, Elizabeth would have no regrets about leaving the area and never returning. She supposed Mr Collins would never allow her to visit again, but she could always see Charlotte in Hertfordshire.

Something else welled inside Elizabeth. A feeling she did not wish to name or dwell upon. She had come to value Mr Darcy’s friendship and now would forfeit it. If Bingley and Jane were to marry, Elizabeth might see Darcy again. These terrible rumours would ruin their comfortable camaraderie. She would remember even if the gossip was contained only in Hunsford Village and was forgotten with time. She could close her eyes and recall how he looked at her… the strength of his arm under her hand… Occasionally, she almost believed he really did admire her. Elizabeth felt heat envelop her face. She supposed she did not blame the villagers if they assumed what she had secretly longed for.

What an idiot she was for not realising until this very moment—when all hope was gone—that she would have welcomed Darcy’s attentions. It was always an impossible dream. She met none of the requirements of what he wanted in a wife. Now, though, he was more lost to her than ever. He could never associate with someone who brought shame to his family name.

It stung to be innocent but cast in such a guilty light. She had done nothing improper or unseemly with Mr Darcy. How could she tell her father that she was sent down from Rosings in disgrace? How could he bear another scandal from a daughter?

“Help me,” she said in simple prayer as she hurriedly folded items.

The servant finally arrived with Elizabeth’s trunk, followed by Charlotte. Mr Collins had not permitted her to return to the room until the very last moment. Charlotte walked Elizabeth to the wagon as Mr Collins scowled. While giving Charlotte a final embrace, Elizabeth spoke quietly, “Pray, apologise to Mr Darcy for me.”

Charlotte pulled back a little, a confused look on her face. “I must have forgotten to tell you. He left this morning as he had planned. The doctor did not insist on keeping him, and Lady Catherine believed it was better that he see his physician in town.”

“Charlotte, come!” Mr Collins called from the window.

Elizabeth gave her friend another quick hug before climbing into the cart. Mr Darcy had not even said goodbye to her. Had he heard of the gossip? Or had he always intended to leave without a proper farewell?