Page 27 of Rumours & Recklessness (Sweet Escapes Collection #1)

Chapter 25

D arcy’s thoughts were still stewing early the next morning. Though he had admonished Georgiana to take care to rest well, he had not done the same himself. He had managed to conquer his overwhelming desire to ride off in singlehanded search of Wickham, but he had lain awake much of the night.

Much depended upon how quickly he could secure Richard’s return. An express message sent late the evening before had urged haste, but Richard had a higher authority to whom he must answer. Darcy would have to step aside for the colonel’s commanding officer. He hoped the man would be reasonable and generous with his cousin’s leave. Georgiana’s respectability perhaps depended upon the cousins presenting a united front.

He had fretted some while longer over what he must do, but in good time his thoughts had turned to the brightest moment of his day—that shining instant forever seared into his memory when Elizabeth had returned his affections. Hs valet discovered him early the next morning, soundly asleep with a light smile upon his face.

“Excuse me, sir, but you wished to be awakened early,” Wilson whispered.

Darcy awoke with a start. “So, I did. Thank you.” He sat up, rubbing his bristling face. “No, no shave just yet. I desire a ride, and I shall return shortly.” Darcy dressed quickly and made his way to the stables.

A half-hour later saw him in a headlong sprint over the fields, thrilling in Pluto’s powerful strides and the stinging wind whipping his face. It was dark yet, the hazy outlines of the landscape rolling beneath his horse’s hooves. Darcy guided him single-mindedly to that spot where he had last spoken with Mr Bennet.

As he had dared to fantasize, Elizabeth was there, even so early. She stood quietly, bundled in her warm cloak and watching his approach. All his hopes centred upon that one hooded figure, the one in all the world he could truly open his whole heart to. He dismounted smoothly, scarcely noticing the distance between his horse and her until he had crossed it and the rein looped over his arm tugged the horse closer.

He reached his free hand boldly for hers, and she took it. At her touch, his entire body relaxed, and he knew peace. “I was hoping to see you this morning,” he spoke softly, wrapping his other hand possessively over hers.

She turned a welcoming smile up to him. “I thought you might be out early today, and I wanted to see you, too.”

“You did?” Gratitude lit his eyes. He peered carefully into her upturned face. “Truly, you wished to see me?” He could scarcely believe she had so suddenly and wholly committed herself to the match she had vehemently attempted to cry off only a few days before.

“I thought you might need a friend,” she replied simply.

His face fell. “It was not merely a ‘friend’ I hoped to find, Elizabeth.”

She laughed, that teasing lilt in her voice. “I suppose it would be uncharitable of me to disappoint, would it not?” She stood on her toes and surprised him with a quick, daring kiss to his chin.

“Elizabeth!” Pleasure mixed with fear in his tones. “We should not—your uncle already disapproves of me!”

“Nothing of the kind. It is this he disapproves of.” She took his face in her other hand and pressed another firm kiss to his cheek.

“Elizabeth Bennet!” he gasped—not very harshly. “This is most immodest! I cannot condone...”

He was silenced by another kiss, this one much softer and placed in a far more distracting location. She slowly dropped down again and shrugged helplessly, her tones both teasing and sultry. “It is the dreadful company I have been keeping recently! This is one particular fellow in the neighbourhood who, I fear, has been a shockingly bad influence upon me.”

“And here I was quite certain it was the other way around.” If only he could swallow! None but Elizabeth could challenge him so provocatively, conjuring images both of a spirited chess match and a duel of quite another kind in the very same moment.

She eyed him appraisingly, alerted to the deeper timbre in his voice and aware that they must not tempt one another too far. “Entirely possible,” she decided, her manner lightening. “I say, have you seen that gentleman of late? Tall, silent, rather disapproving? Goes about avoiding people? I cannot imagine where I might have mislaid him!”

“Gone forever,” he asserted. “I gave him the shove-off myself.”

“Ah, that is well. I should hate for him to be jealous if he were to catch me doing this.” She stood on her tiptoes again and waited with closed eyes. Caution was overrated, after all.

Darcy, grinning despite himself, tipped his head low to oblige her. She was so soft and welcoming! He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her for the first time and revelling in her tender ministrations. How he cherished the reassuring comfort she offered! She slid her arms up around his neck and allowed him to hold her long, sharing the warmth of her heavy cloak against the cold morning. He kissed her as fervently as he dared—thrilling in the rapturous intimacy but knowing clearly that he must at length pull back.

“Thank you,” he whispered at last, pressing one more kiss near her ear. “You cannot know how badly I needed a little reassurance today.”

The playful light in her eyes vanished, replaced by sincere feeling. “What are you going to do?”

He shook his head doubtfully and began to elaborate his immediate plans to her. Elizabeth listened thoughtfully, her brow furrowed. “I was hoping,” he finished, “to enlist your family’s assistance in some part. Do you think your uncle would agree?”

“He will,” she declared stoutly. “It is high time Lydia was made to feel the import of her words. She ought to face the consequences for once, rather than having them foisted upon others! I will make Uncle listen to you. He has already made it plain that Lydia and Kitty shall not be allowed further opportunities for gossip.”

“Actually, it is your sisters’ proclivity toward idle talk that I am hoping to exploit. I… I beg you would forgive me for such a nefarious undertaking….” He looked at her questioningly.

A spark of mischief again came to her face. Those intelligent eyes twinkled back at him, and she cocked him a calculating grin. “Are you certain it is your cousin who is the military strategist?”

“Quite! Richard is the master; I am merely the student.” He glanced at the skyline. Somewhere during those glorious moments in Elizabeth’s arms, the sun had crested the horizon and the new day was underway.

She caught the direction of his gaze. “I should be getting back,” she thought aloud. “Uncle has forbidden trips to Meryton, but he did not expressly prohibit any early morning walks. I suspect that was merely an omission, and he shall repent of it once he learns where I have been.”

“Yet another insight into your character, Miss Bennet,” his mouth twitched. She arched a brow at his return to the more formal address. “I shall have to take care to express my wishes specifically and clearly in the future. You have a very devious turn of mind!”

“You have no idea,” she agreed. Her eyes shifted to the stallion just behind him as the horse gave a sudden tug on the rein. The great steed was in determined search of a mouthful of grass, yanking Darcy’s arm away from her.

Darcy turned. He had nearly forgotten about the hulking giant at his side. He stepped aside a little. “This is Pluto,” he introduced.

Elizabeth’s eyes returned hesitantly to his face. She put out a cautious hand to the horse’s nose.

“Not there,” Darcy took her hand in his own and placed it on his horse’s neck. She left it there, stroking the thick hair gently.

“How is it you have not much experience with horses?” he wondered. “I should have thought you, of all ladies, would enjoy riding.”

“Riding takes practice,” she answered pragmatically. “I do not dislike horses, but I am afraid you will find that once I gain a modest competence at something, I often do not return to improve myself. It is a terrible habit to have got into.” She arched a mock-serious gaze at him. “Perhaps I was never required to tender any great effort toward such enterprises. I expect,” she looked back at the horse, “you will tell me I should give myself the trouble to improve my skills.”

“The Mistress of Pemberley ought to be an accomplished horsewoman,” he grinned in agreement. “What would the neighbours say if they saw my wife attempting to scale the rocky cliffs in a phaeton?”

“I can walk very well, sir!”

“Not even you can walk that much. Come, let me sit you on Pluto.”

“Oh, no, indeed! I shall require a much shorter mount, thank you very much! A lady’s saddle would not be amiss either—or is that a part of your wicked scheme, Mr Darcy? You would place me on a monstrous beast where I must sit indecently if I am to be at all secure, not to mention utterly dependent upon your help to both mount and dismount?”

“My dearest Elizabeth, you do me so little credit! I had also thought to swing up behind you and take you for a truly terrifying ride over the fields, where you would be compelled to allow my arms snugly round your waist to keep you aboard.”

“And to think I had considered you steady and trustworthy!”

“Not a bit of it. Did you hear that, Pluto? She thinks I am a sedate gentleman. You know better the wild, reckless rides we take, do you not?” The horse blew a gentle sneeze, and Darcy rubbed his shoulder affectionately.

Elizabeth laughed heartily. That insufferably taciturn and prideful man she had known last week was standing before her in barely civilized attire, jesting lightly with his horse! “Do you have a Persephone at home?” she chuckled. “Pluto is a curious name.”

“My father always named his stallions after the Greek heroes. I suppose I have continued the tradition, but with the Roman names. I have a grey most fittingly named Neptune at home, and of course, Pluto earned his name by his colour as well.”

She crossed her arms, a sly smile cracking. “And how convenient for you that we already have a pomegranate tree.”

He laughed suddenly, reminding her that she quite liked the sound, and inspiring her to tempt him to it often. “I had not thought of that! Shall you be avoiding the fruit in the future, my Lizzy?”

“I should say it is quite too late for that.”

“I am glad to hear it.” He stepped close again, cupping his gloved hand over her cheek. “I would not wish to entrap you, my queen.”

Elizabeth blushed vividly at such a bold endearment. Her gaze faltered, but her smile grew. He tipped her chin back up to meet his eyes.

“I have something for you before we part, my love,” he murmured. “It may be a bit premature for your uncle’s liking, but I wish to give it to you all the same if you will allow it.” He slipped off his gloves, then brazenly tugged the gloves off her hands. Elizabeth watched him with widened eyes as he reached to the inner pockets of his clothing to withdraw a small item. He pulled away the case to reveal the stunning ring.

“An engagement gift,” he bashfully explained, sliding the jewel up one of her fingers. “I had not thought this to be your wedding band, although it can be if you like.” He clasped her fingers, sensitive to her overwhelmed expression. “It was my mother’s and my grandmother’s before her,” he continued softly. “Georgiana thought you would like it.”

Elizabeth swallowed hard and nodded wordlessly. Darcy’s wealth she had suddenly come to take for granted. It was some ephemeral trait he had possessed upon their first acquaintance, now thoroughly forgotten in the light of the tender heart he wore for her alone. The weighty bauble on her finger was a tangible reminder that he came from a world vastly different from her own—a world where one was judged by the size of the ring his wife brandished or the modishness of each dazzling new gown. It was a world where appearances mattered more than substance, connections could make or break a fortune, and honour could be bought for a trifle.

Women—scores of them—far more pretentious and ambitious than Caroline Bingley would be forever vying for her husband’s attention, and she was not naive enough to think that would cease with his marriage. Every move she ever made would be constantly scrutinized and whispered over by those who might desire her fall from grace. This would be her future!

A fist curled in her stomach. What chance had a simple country girl against all the finery of London? She began to blink rapidly. She could not—would not!—be merely a wife of fashion, a healthy young woman required only to produce an heir while her husband slaked his desires elsewhere. A small sound choked from her.

“Is it too much?” he asked hesitantly. He feared that she might feel he was flaunting his riches, though that had not been his intention. Brash idiot , he castigated himself. He had only just overcome her dislike of his pride, yet he could not stop himself from pressing her with what now surely appeared an ostentatious display. His shoulders drooped in defeat and annoyance with himself.

But Elizabeth was shaking her head, her gaze still lowered. “No… thank you, William, it is beautiful. It is just… are you certain you want me?” Her eyes rose to his in earnest appeal. “I will surely seem unsophisticated and shabby in your world. I do not think I could bear it if… if I lost your regard. I feel quite unworthy.” Secure, self-assured Elizabeth Bennet trembled slightly with doubt.

He let out a breath of relief. “You, my Lizzy?” He took her in his arms again. “Did you never wonder why I am yet a bachelor? Why I have never even dared to give any woman a second glance before you stole my entire attention? It was not for want of ‘elegant and sophisticated’ females, I assure you. It was because, until you, I had never encountered a woman of true worth, one I could wish to share my life with. I cannot fix the hour or the spot, but I was well in the middle of my devotion to you before I even knew it had begun. You have grown so steadily in my heart that I do not believe I could ever be content without you, my dearest, loveliest Elizabeth. There could never be any other for me.”

He touched her face with his bare fingers, gently tracing each little crevice and groove and delighting in the tickle of her warm breath on his hands. Beneath his tender fingertips, the corners of her mouth lifted once more. Smiling, he tipped his own face near to lightly caress her lips with his own. He nearly came undone when he felt her velvet fingers reach for his own cheeks, teasing his chin.

Elizabeth released a long breath. She began at last to appreciate the struggles Darcy had faced in the ton , and yet another mysterious layer to his character peeled away. He was a man without peer, to have been relentlessly pursued as he had and to still emerge unscathed by the temptations and expectations of high society. She pulled a little closer, trusting in his embrace.

“Elizabeth,” he whispered lovingly.

“Hmm?” was the muffled reply.

“I should wish to remain all day as we are, but there is something I must tell you.”

“What is that?” she lifted her mouth from his to nuzzle his cheek.

“Your hands are cold. And so is your nose.”

She drew back with a start, removing her hands from his face and stammering an apology. He laughed easily. “I was not concerned for my own comfort. You, however, must get back home before you take a chill.”

“And before I offend my uncle!”

“Yes, that too.” He returned her gloves, helping her to tug the one over the large ring and enjoying her smile as he did so. “Will there be any objections to us calling around ten?”

“None whatever. I shall tell my uncle you will be desiring a private conference.”

“Thank you.” He pressed one last kiss to her cheek, then swung up on Pluto. “I shall see you shortly, my Lizzy.” With a broad smile and a click to his mount, he galloped away.

I t had been some long while since Caroline Bingley had been obliged to ride rear-facing in a carriage. Her own carriage, no less! Lady Catherine had not left that avenue available to her when the four ladies had set out from Darcy House that morning. Anne de Bourgh was bundled and swathed with hot bricks and a bevy of quilts, consuming most of the forward-facing seat, but her spindly mother had managed to find herself a niche, nonetheless.

Caroline cast a dispassionate eye on the great lady. She wondered at the woman’s obtuse lack of discernment. Even in the short while it had taken Darcy’s staff to help the ladies to the carriage, it was obvious to her where their sympathies lay. All treated Anne and even her companion with gentle deference. The highest honour and care were paid to the sickly young woman and her quiet attendant, but Lady Catherine’s machinations were deliberately frustrated at every turn.

Caroline had scarcely refrained from laughing out loud when Lady Catherine required not one but four separate footmen to procure her travelling cloak. “Misplaced, with sincerest apologies, my lady,” had been the dry butler’s excuse. Great had been the tongue lashing she imparted as he had helped her into the carriage, but the butler had merely bowed in simple deference with a quiet, “As your ladyship pleases.” Lady Catherine had exchanged her flushed scarlet countenance for one of flaming violet at the butler’s words. It had been a scene that Caroline was likely to relive with amusement for years to come.

“I say, Miss Bington,” Lady Catherine began.

“Bingley,” Caroline corrected her, indiscreetly omitting the proper address.

Lady Catherine’s eyes narrowed. “Miss Bingley ,” she intoned heavily. “You say your brother has an estate where we shall be welcomed to pass the night. Is it near this… Bennet place?”

Caroline swallowed. She had not counted on this difficulty. Charles would no doubt be unwilling to welcome her back. Well! She would demand entry anyway. After all, it was only by some cruel trick of fate that he, the younger brother, was master over their father’s holdings, while she, but a woman, could claim only a handsome dowry. What business ought he truly to have in denying her the benefits of their inheritance?

“Absolutely, my lady,” she answered smoothly. “As to location, I believe it is approximately three miles to Longbourn, the little farm the Bennets call their estate.”

“And you say Georgiana Darcy is staying at Netherfield?”

“Yes, my lady,” she smiled, trying to cover how much she despised having to answer so.

“With your brother?”

“Well… yes, I suppose so, my lady. Mr Darcy stays there as well, of course.”

“Of course.” Lady Catherine sat back, a smug expression on her lined face. Caroline began to wonder just what she had let herself in for.

***

“I still do not see why we had to leave so bleeding early in the morning,” grumbled the Earl of Matlock. He watched his breath fog in the carriage and tugged his long gloves for emphasis.

“I told you, Father, I received a message from Darcy in the middle of the night.”

“We were coming anyway. What can the rush all be about?” he groused in irritation.

“He did not say, Father, but Darcy does not send such messages on a whim. I suspect something truly awful must be afoot. I hope it is not bad news to do with Mr Bennet.”

“So what if it is? I daresay your cousin is overreacting. What can he expect you to do?”

Richard shook his head. “I’ve no idea. The thought has occurred to me… well, let us hope that is not the case.”

“What? You speak in riddles, my boy.”

“Do you remember George Wickham, the son of old Darcy’s steward?”

The earl snorted. “A worthless rascal if there ever was one. Has he been imprisoned or shot yet?”

“No, but it was a very near thing once or twice. He has joined the militia stationed in Meryton and still has no generous feelings for Darcy.”

“Still chasing skirts as well, I imagine? Ah, I see. Here I thought to anticipate a rather dull stay in Hertfordshire. This could prove a very entertaining visit.”

“L izzy, where have you been? Oh, we are all in an uproar!” Mrs Bennet, waving a laced kerchief, chased her daughter into the entryway of the house.

Elizabeth sighed. She had expected she might be missed and braced herself for the explanation which would surely be required. “I went for a walk Mama, as I often do,” she replied patiently. She flipped the scarf off her neck and began to put away her outerwear.

“Oh, hang your walks! Your father is awake!”

“What! Oh, Mama, is it true?” Elizabeth eagerly clasped her mother’s hand. “Papa!” she began calling before he could be reasonably expected to answer and raced up the stairs. “Papa!” She burst into the room. Jane and her aunt sat with Mrs Cooper, but her father’s eyes were quite firmly closed.

She looked to each of the faces in dismay. “I thought… Mama said….” she trailed off miserably.

“He opened his eyes for a moment, Lizzy,” Jane answered her. “It was only a moment. He seemed to look at us, but he did not speak.”

Elizabeth sank down on the corner of her father’s bed, deflated. “Oh,” she responded sadly.

“Do not fret, Dearie,” came Mrs Cooper’s kind voice. “‘Tis as promising as anything, I declare! I’d a letter from the doctor yesterday, and he intended to journey from London this morning. He will be stopping to check on your dear Papa, Miss Elizabeth.”

Elizabeth forced a cheerful reply. “That is good news,” she returned softly. “Excuse me, please, I… I should go change.”

Jane began to rise to follow her, but Mrs Gardiner put out a staying hand. Jane glanced from her aunt to Elizabeth’s drooping shoulders and acquiesced.