Page 41 of These Dreams (Heart to Heart Collection #1)

Chapter forty-one

R ichard staggered from the drawing room, still squinting from his injured eye. Lady Catherine had lambasted him with some choice words, choosing to exhaust her outrage for several minutes while he recovered his faculties. Apparently, he was at fault for introducing the Bennet ladies, for his management of Georgiana, for mistakenly burying the wrong Darcy, and for failing to relinquish his commission, and, of course, for breaking his engagement to Anne to wed Georgiana. He had heard scarcely a word of her tirade, but he had—perhaps wisely—sought out the decanter of brandy for a little liquid consolation while he thought of what to do next.

He was holding the cool, empty glass to his cheek now. Darcy was nowhere to be seen, but two maids, one footman, and Hodges were all watching him emerge with blanched expressions. “Hodges, where is Mr Darcy?” he barked.

The old butler’s lips trembled as he spoke. “Mr Darcy has retired, Colonel. He…” Hodges swallowed, looked down, and then resumed. “Mr Darcy has requested that you remove yourself from the premises, Colonel.”

“He what? Speak clearly, Hodges, my ears are still ringing from the boxing he gave them.”

Hodges cleared his throat and crossed his gloved hands. “I regret, Colonel, that I must ask you to depart. Mr Darcy was quite insistent upon it.”

Richard stood mute, blinking stupidly. He glanced between Hodges and the assembled staff, all of whom looked as stunned as he. “On what grounds?” he finally demanded. “What the devil does he think, that I am to blame for all that has happened? Where is Mrs Reynolds? I shall see this sorted out! She will bear witness, and he would trust her word.”

Hodges opened his mouth and glanced nervously toward one of the maids. “M-Mr Darcy h-has just relieved h-her of her duties, until further notice,” he nearly whispered.

“What?”

Hodges gulped and wetted his lips. “Mr Darcy sought her after he left you, sir—I do not know for what cause, other than perhaps Mr Jefferson had not yet arrived. He came to Mrs Reynolds’ room behind the kitchen, and found some letters penned by Lady Catherine de Bourgh. He thought it evidence of betrayal, and flew into a rage.” The butler glanced over his shoulder. “Sir, I fear for poor Mrs Reynolds,” he confessed openly. “She is weeping as if her heart would break!”

Richard’s face was contorted now in disbelief. Of course, he had expected Darcy to be somewhat disoriented upon his return, and certainly more vigilant than in the past, but this unreasonable paranoia seemed to border on mental instability. Why attack those who had always proved loyal?

“Sir,” the butler forced a hoarse voice, “please, sir, it would be better if you are not found here when he comes out. I am sorry, sir.”

Richard narrowed his eyes and gritted his teeth. “Naturally, it is not your fault, Hodges. No, you needn’t escort me, I know where to find the door. Am I to be permitted the horse I rode here?”

Hodges could not even meet his eyes. “We shall look to your comforts as best we can, sir. I will call for an escort to see you to Lambton.”

Richard was slowly trudging toward the door, his body numb. “Miss Darcy,” he muttered. “I must speak to her before I go!”

“I am afraid that is impossible, sir. She has returned to her room.”

“One of the other ladies, then. Miss Bennet—yes, let me speak with Miss Bennet!”

“If I may, sir,” the young footman—O’Donnell, the one who had met him at his arrival—spoke up hesitantly to his superior. Richard paused, allowing Hodges to nod his permission. “Sir,” O’Donnell shifted uncomfortably, “Miss Bennet has not yet come back from her walk. She did not return with Mr Darcy as he intended, and we have not seen her at the rear entrance.”

“Not seen her—do you mean she might still be out of doors, after dark and in the rain? Good heavens, man, why has not something been done to search for her?”

“Word was given to the stables for a rider to go out, sir, but that was only a few moments ago, and when Mr Darcy heard of it, he said that she would not be coming back tonight.”

“The devil she is not! Make way, Hodges, I have heard enough of this. The man is out of his head, and that young lady’s father entrusted me with her care. Where is Darcy?”

Hodges cringed, perhaps the first time in his adult life that the stately butler had ever permitted such an expression. “Sir, you know that I cannot. It is my duty, sir….”

“Hang your duty! Out of my path at once, or I shall move you myself.” Richard pushed past the staff—none of whom moved to stop him—to try the study. He found it unlocked, with a recently kindled fire and a dark shadow brooding in the corner.

“Darcy! What in heaven’s name are you about, knocking me down and leaving Elizabeth Bennet out in the rain? And what have you done to poor Mrs Reynolds, who has been practically a mother to you?”

Darcy turned to glower at him. “Leave this house at once, Richard, or I will serve you as you have me, and without an instant’s remorse!”

“As I have served—now, look here, Darcy, have you any idea how I have employed myself of late? I should hope you are not on about that marriage announcement you saw, for it is a sheer falsehood. For heaven’s sake, I was on the Continent when it was printed! I’ve no notion how such gossip reaches the papers, but I have no intention of wedding Georgiana.”

“Or Anne, my erstwhile ‘intended,’ or Elizabeth, who followed you here from Hertfordshire? Did you even wait for me to be reported missing before you sold your commission and packed your trunks for Derbyshire?”

“Now, hold there!” Richard protested. “I have spent the past two months traipsing over Creation in search of your sorry carcass! How can you accuse me of treachery? I want none of it—not marriage, not your wealth. I am not your enemy, Darcy!”

“What business do you have with Wickham, that you would bring his wife here and permit him on the grounds?” Darcy was white to the lips now, even through the coarse beard over his jaw. His eyes were wild—an expression Richard had never seen on his dignified cousin.

“What did you offer him, Richard? And why… good Lord, why …” Darcy’s features crumpled in agony, and his tall frame bent with gasping shudders. “ Why did you have to involve Elizabeth?” he choked.

He put a fist to his mouth, and tears pooled at the corners of his eyes. “She knew—she knew what he was, and still he fools her! Why…” his torso racked, “ why did you have to take her , Richard? And lead her to Wickham, of all men!”

Richard swallowed soberly. “Wickham? How are we speaking of him? Darcy, I think there has been some misunderstanding.”

“Indeed, there has!” Darcy straightened once more, his face turning to iron. “I have placed my faith in the wrong persons all my life. No more! Leave, Richard, before I lose any sense of restraint!”

“Just one moment! Have you even spoken to your sister yet? The poor girl has been devastated without you. And what of Miss Bennet? You left her out in the night!”

“She walked there well enough. She can walk elsewhere.” Darcy turned away to lean into one of the darkened windows. “She is an excellent walker, you know,” he added coldly.

“She came here because of you , you pompous ass! How could you just leave her out there, after you made a point of searching for her?”

Darcy turned, his expression ice. “ Get. Out. ”

R ichard spurred his horse mercilessly. Oh, yes, he would leave, and never look back! The fool could have his mansion, throw out all the servants and lock every door for all he cared. He was well rid of the ingrate!

But there was still the matter of Elizabeth Bennet. No matter how he tried, Richard could not escape the knowledge that he was the one who had made the promise to Mr Bennet of his daughter’s safety. She ought to be Darcy’s problem by now, but Miss Bennet did not deserve to fall into the care of a madman. No, he would have to find her and see her safely delivered again to Hertfordshire.

It was not difficult. The rider from the stables had gone round the pleasure paths, where Miss Bennet had told the footman she intended to walk. Richard naturally rode in the opposite direction. He did not see her at first, but once he had left behind the noises of the house and the bubble of the trout creek, her faint cries were clear enough to reach him from across the fields.

She was postured as if she had been walking away from the house toward the road, but her legs had failed her. Her thick dark cloak fell around her shoulders and her bonnet was missing, shrouding her in black and rendering her figure almost invisible where she huddled in the wet grass. He cantered quickly to her side. The woman must be drenched! She would be lucky if she did not take a fever.

“Miss Bennet! Are you unwell?”

Her head remained bowed, her shoulders quivering with sharp, ragged cries. She was speaking—gasping, really—but not in response to him. “I didn’t know… William… no! Please, believe me!”

Richard nearly fell from the saddle and bent to draw her up by her shoulders. “Miss Bennet, what is the matter? Why did you not come back to the house? You are going to catch your death!”

She was shaking her head, pulling away from him and curling to hold her stomach. “Please, please believe me!” she was repeating hoarsely, her small frame shivering violently.

“Miss Bennet, what has happened? Why are you out here? Come, mount my horse, I will take you back to the house.”

“No! No, I am not welcome! He never wishes to see me again. What have I done? ” The last words were barely coherent, more of a sob than speech.

“Miss Bennet you make no sense. I am afraid you will take a chill, you must return to the house!”

She doubled over, pulling away from him, and he could hear her heaving and gasping. Small white hands covered her head in the darkness, as though trying to make herself invisible.

“Miss Bennet, please!”

“I cannot face him!” she gasped. “Never, ever again. Oh, William, what must you think of me? What have I done? Please, I beg you, please believe me….”

Miss Bennet,” he turned her unwilling form, “have you seen Darcy? Did he find you out here?”

She nodded her head miserably, her hands still over her face.

“And you quarreled? Fear not that I cast any blame to you, Miss Bennet, for I have seen him as well, and he is not in his senses. What did he say to you?”

She sniffled, struggled for a few ragged breaths, and a raspy voice answered, “There was nothing he needed to say. He saw enough. I am such a fool!”

“Miss Bennet, I still do not understand, but we are getting wetter by the minute. There is a farm near here, I think I can persuade them to let us dry you. Come.” He dragged her reluctant form closer to his horse, but when he bent to gather her to place her in the saddle, she recoiled.

“I do not ride,” she protested. “Please, I can walk!”

He set his mouth grimly and fell into step beside her. Her strides were slow and mincing, not at all like he remembered her from Rosings. She was still shivering, her arms wrapped tightly about her middle, but it seemed to be more than the wet chill that troubled her. The longer she walked without speaking, the slower her strides and the more uncontrollable her tremours. Richard watched her carefully, then decided she ought to try to speak, for her own good if not for the relief of his concerns.

“Miss Bennet, pray, start from the beginning. Why are you out here? What were you doing when Darcy came upon you that upset him so?”

Several deep gasps preceded her answer. “I was doing the most foolish thing of my life—looking for the truth from a liar!”

“You were speaking to someone? To whom?”

She sniffled and squeezed her eyes closed. “Mr Wickham. Now do you see? I am the most wretched woman alive!”

“Wickham! So, that is why Darcy thinks I have schemed with that rogue. I thought him vanished! What is he doing here?”

Another sob shook her, and she wedged her clenched fingers over her mouth. “He—said—he—knew….” She halted, battled for breath, and tried again in a wavering pitch. “He had information, he claimed. I did not want to hear him, but Lady Catherine was going to take Georgiana away! I had to do something. Oh, what a fool I am!”

“Information?” The back of Richard’s neck prickled. “He claims to know who attacked Darcy?”

“And Georgiana! He wanted to secure a promise of aid from you, in exchange for revealing the attacker.”

Richard stared at the ground, aghast. The timing was right, and no one had seen that devil since…. “But he claims he was not behind the attack himself? I could almost have believed it of him, the filthy liar.”

“I only know that he finds himself no longer protected by whomever it was. I came tonight to learn more, but W—w… he saw me, Colonel! I was going to speak with Mr Wickham myself because I did not dare send another, and now….” Her shoulders shook with angry tears, and another shrieking gasp brought her hand back to her mouth.

It looked dreadful, he had to confess. Little wonder that Darcy had arrived thinking everyone he knew had turned against him—first somehow that dratted announcement in the paper, and then this!

“See here, Miss Bennet,” he tried to comfort her, “Darcy is—well, I would not call him reasonable at the moment, but he is an intelligent man. These are things he must be told, for Georgiana’s sake if not his own. We shall attempt to make ourselves heard on the morrow, after he has had a night’s rest in his own bed and a shave. He is always at his most sociable then.”

She made no answer but the continued quaking of her shoulders.

“Fear not, Miss Bennet, we will show him the truth,” he insisted. “Darcy will hear you, I have every confidence.”

“No, Colonel,” she whispered. “I have given him reason before to doubt my judgment, and his good opinion, once lost, is lost forever.” She brushed some tears from her cheeks, which mattered little against the rain. “I shall return to Hertfordshire and never see him again. Please, take me to Lambton tonight!”

Richard glanced down at the shivering frame of the young lady. Stubborn! But it was not the time to carry an argument, for the little farmhouse was near enough now for their voices to be heard. They walked the remaining distance in silence, he urging her on by lengthening his own strides until they reached the threshold.

“Halloo!” he pounded on the door. “A lady requires shelter from the rain! Please, may I bring her in to dry herself?”

There was a stirring within, and a moment later a middle-aged couple opened the door. The farmer looked suspiciously at him, but his wife instantly recognised Elizabeth as the young lady known to be a guest of Miss Darcy. “Miss Bennet! Come in, miss, come in! I hope the poor mistress is not out with you in this weather!”

Elizabeth accepted the woman’s hospitality with quiet gratitude, and assured her that Miss Darcy was safely indoors. “I foolishly thought to walk out late and became… lost,” she mumbled as a blanket was brought. “The colonel was kind enough to search for me.”

The farmer’s wife clucked her sympathy and promptly settled Elizabeth by the hearth, while Richard drew to the side with her husband. “My good sir, I must thank you for attending to Miss Bennet. Might I impose on you so far as to care for her while I return to the house to call back the riders and bring a carriage?”

“Oh Colonel, I pray you would not trouble yourself,” protested Elizabeth from across the modest room. She raised her head and sought him with imploring eyes, her expression begging him not to take her back—not to bring her again before him . Richard could well understand her reluctance, but there was no help for it. Her belongings, her sister, and even the carriage that might convey her to Hertfordshire, if necessary, were all at the great house of Pemberley.

“I am afraid I must, Miss Bennet,” he apologised. “I will not be away long.”