29. Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“This is entirely unnecessary,” Elizabeth protested, wriggling slightly in Darcy’s arms as he ascended the stairs. “I am perfectly capable of walking.”
Darcy tightened his grip even more, adjusting her weight effortlessly. “You are barely capable of standing.”
Elizabeth let out an exasperated huff. “That is a gross exaggeration.”
Uncle Gardiner, trailing behind them with Richard, cleared his throat. “I did see her stumble a few times, Darcy. Do not listen to a word she says.”
Elizabeth twisted to glare over Darcy’s shoulder. “You are supposed to be on my side, Uncle.”
“I am on the side of reason,” her uncle replied, though his eyes crinkled in amusement.
“I have two functioning legs,” Elizabeth continued, turning her argument back to Darcy.
“You also have a head injury and have not had proper food or water for many hours,” he countered. “If I put you down, you will topple over like a poorly stacked pile of books.”
“That is an outrageous metaphor.”
The colonel chuckled from behind them. “Actually, I thought it was rather apt.”
“You are all insufferable,” Elizabeth grumbled, crossing her arms. “You cannot simply cart me about as if I were some feeble invalid.”
Darcy did not smile, but it looked like a near thing. “No one said you were 'feeble.' In fact, for a lady with a crack in her skull, you have a rather large quantity of words, Miss Bennet.”
She sighed dramatically, resigning herself with a shake of her head. “Very well. But if you dare drop me, Mr. Darcy, I shall make certain it haunts you for the rest of your life.”
His grip on her tightened. “I do not drop what is precious to me. ”
The words—spoken low in her ear, and so quietly that Uncle Gardiner and Colonel Fitzwilliam never even looked up—hung between them for half a breath, before Elizabeth glanced away. “Now you are just trying to ensure I do not argue further.”
“Is it working?”
She pursed her lips. “I shall let you know after I have had a bath.”
By then, they had reached the guest chambers, and Darcy strode through the open door, ignoring Elizabeth’s theatrical sigh as he carefully placed her down on the edge of the bed. His housekeeper, Mrs. Tate, and two maids waited, their gazes darting between their master and the disheveled lady he had just carried in.
“Miss Bennet is to have everything she requires,” Darcy instructed firmly. “Food, water, warm towels. If she is not resting properly within the next hour, I will summon a surgeon.”
Elizabeth’s eyes widened. “You most certainly will not.”
Darcy arched a brow. “Then do as Mrs. Tate says.”
Elizabeth pressed her lips together, eyeing him with reluctant amusement. “You, sir, are an impossible man.”
He inclined his head. “So I have been told.”
She sighed again, but waved a hand toward the door. “Do as you like, then. If it will set your mind at ease, I shall remain here and allow myself to be fussed over.”
“It would set my mind at ease if you did not make a sport of nearly getting yourself killed,” he replied dryly.
She smiled, soft but teasing. “I shall endeavor to improve my habits. Now, go, before I undertake to enjoy a bath with you still in the room.”
Darcy blinked, flushed, then stepped back, nodding once to Mrs. Tate before striding out of the room.
Richard and Gardiner were already in the study when Darcy finally descended. His coat was still damp from the night’s search, but he had no thought to change it. His hands curled into fists as he stalked toward the fireplace, his frustration barely contained .
“I sent a carriage for Mrs. Gardiner,” he said. “I will not return Miss Bennet to Gracechurch Street until we are certain there is no lingering threat there, and it would be well for Mrs. Gardiner to stay here, also.”
Gardiner nodded grimly. “I understand. Though I would rather have her under my own roof, I trust your judgment. If there is any danger still lurking in my household…” He trailed off, rubbing a hand over his face. “I do not know whom I can trust.”
“That is precisely why she is staying here,” Darcy said. “I will not risk it.”
Richard leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “I sent a message to Father to come urgently. I imagine he will arrive with all the subtlety of a cannon blast.”
Darcy exhaled sharply. “Let him. I am ready to wash my hands of this whole affair, now that Miss Bennet is safe. But someone must take action, so he may as well loose his hounds.”
Gardiner’s expression darkened. “And what action will that be? Arresting half my staff? Shutting down my livelihood?”
“He will do what suits him best,” Richard said. “For now, that happens to align with our interests. But if we do not get ahead of this, we may find ourselves at cross purposes soon enough.”
Darcy shook his head. “Miss Bennet’s name cannot be dragged into this any further. If my uncle sees her as a loose end rather than a victim, I… Well, he will find himself at odds with me .”
Gardiner’s expression darkened. “I am grateful for your protection of my niece, Mr. Darcy, but what of the rest of my household? My business? If he decides I am complicit—”
“He will act accordingly,” Richard finished grimly. “Which is why I want him here, now. He needs to hear from you, Gardiner, what you know and do not know. And he needs to know what Miss Elizabeth saw.”
Darcy inhaled slowly. Indeed, they had pulled Elizabeth from immediate danger, but they had not stopped the men who had taken her. They had not uncovered the full measure of their crimes, or definitively linked them to the Monsieur Lapointe, which had been the earl’s aim from the beginning. And somewhere, in the tangled mess of politics, smuggling, and betrayal, was the truth that could either exonerate Elizabeth—or ruin her.
Darcy rose abruptly, crossing to the window, his hands curled into fists. He had never been a man for idle threats, but this was not a matter of politics or honor.
Someone had taken his Elizabeth .
And he was going to make sure they regretted it.
Elizabeth stood stiffly as two maids fussed over her, attempting to fasten the back of a pale blue muslin gown that was… not cooperating. She winced as one of them gave an optimistic tug at the waist. The fabric protested with a sound of strain.
“I do not think…” Elizabeth began, shifting uncomfortably.
The housekeeper, a formidable but not unkind woman who had introduced herself as Mrs. Tate, stepped forward and gave the situation a single, assessing glance. Then she clucked her tongue. “Well, that will not do.”
Elizabeth let out a breath. “I am afraid Miss Darcy is rather more… slender than I.”
“Slender?” Mrs. Tate scoffed, waving a hand at the struggling maids. “She is thin as a fence post, that girl. No meat on her bones at all. And it is no wonder, the way she picks at her food like a sparrow and refuses a good, hearty meal. She would do well to have a bit more of a proper figure, if you ask me.”
Elizabeth gave a tired chuckle. “I do not think that is for either of us to decide.”
“Perhaps not, but I have been running this household since before Mr. Darcy was out of shortcoats, and I shall tell you this: I have never seen a guest under this roof so determined not to rest after such an ordeal.” Mrs. Tate fixed her with a sharp, knowing look. “You looked fit to faint during your bath—with that head wound, I shouldn’t wonder if you did! And it is past two in the morning, besides. You should be in bed, Miss Bennet.”
Elizabeth folded her arms, ignoring how unsteady she felt after standing too long. “I will rest when I have spoken with the Earl.”
Mrs. Tate’s brows lifted. “Oh, you are determined, then.”
Elizabeth lifted her chin. “If His Lordship has had no qualms about interfering in my life, then he shall hear what I have to say about it.”
Mrs. Tate gave her an approving nod, though she tried to hide the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Very well, then. But you cannot be receiving an earl in a bed gown.” She turned back to the maids. “Take it to the sewing room. Let out the seams at once. ”
Elizabeth startled. “There is no need for that—truly. It is Miss Darcy’s gown! I can surely send for something of my own.”
The housekeeper gave her a look. “And whose order was it that you should have whatever you require?”
Elizabeth hesitated. “…Mr. Darcy’s.”
“Exactly,” Mrs. Tate said with a satisfied nod. “And that includes something to wear that actually fits. Now, do not waste another breath arguing, Miss Bennet. Miss Darcy left this gown behind when she packed for Ramsgate, so clearly, she does not care for it.”
Elizabeth let out a huff of laughter. “And if she did?”
“Then she should have thought of that before she flounced off, leaving her brother to fret about her.” Mrs. Tate gave her a knowing look. “Mr. Darcy, for all his sharp edges, is a good man. He will grumble and scowl and pretend to be fearsome, but when someone he cares for needs something, he sees that they have it. Whether they like it or not.”
Elizabeth swallowed, forcing a smile. “Yes,” she murmured, almost to herself. “I have seen that for myself.” She caught her reflection in the mirror and saw something almost wistful in her own expression.
Someone he cares for… They had done their job too well. Everyone believed them. Even his own household.
It was a dangerous illusion.
The housekeeper gave her a keen look but said nothing of it. Instead, she sniffed and patted Elizabeth’s arm. “You are exhausted, Miss Bennet, and that gown will not be fit for you for at least an hour—more, if I say so. Get into bed before I am forced to tell Mr. Darcy you are ignoring my care.”
Elizabeth laughed, though her heart felt heavier than before. “Very well, Mrs. Tate. I shall not have you getting me into trouble.”
The housekeeper gave a satisfied nod and turned toward the door, just as a light knock sounded. A maid poked her head inside.
“Miss Bennet, ma’am—Mrs. Gardiner has arrived. She asks if she might see you.”
Elizabeth’s heart leapt, and she turned at once. “Yes, of course. Please, show her in.”
Mrs. Tate gave an approving nod. “Good. Perhaps she can talk some sense into you. You have had quite the night.”
Elizabeth murmured her thanks as the housekeeper departed, and then she turned just as her aunt stepped into the room .
“Oh, my dear girl,” Mrs. Gardiner cried, crossing the space between them swiftly. She took Elizabeth’s hands in hers and gave them a quick squeeze, her sharp eyes sweeping over her. “You are well?”
Elizabeth nodded, relief flooding through her. “I am. I promise. I have had a hot bath, been force-fed the most delectable pottage, and Mrs. Tate even brought up some headache powders that I shan’t be using. Mr. Darcy has made certain I have been given every comfort.”
Mrs. Gardiner’s lips quirked upward as she studied her. “Has he now?”
Elizabeth hesitated, but there was no missing the twinkle of amusement in her aunt’s eyes. Mrs. Gardiner glanced around the well-appointed room, her gaze landing on the elaborate furnishings, the roaring fire, and the pile of fresh linens Mrs. Tate had brought in earlier. She arched a brow. “Yes… I can see that he has ensured you are quite comfortable. Why, he has given you a state room fit for nobility!”
Elizabeth groaned. “Aunt—”
Mrs. Gardiner gave her a gentle smile and pressed her hand. “I am only teasing, my dear. I have been beside myself with worry since we learned you had been taken.” Her voice wavered slightly, and Elizabeth’s amusement fled at once.
“Oh, Aunt,” she whispered. “I am so sorry. I never meant to frighten you.”
“You had no choice in the matter,” Mrs. Gardiner said firmly, shaking her head. “The important thing is that you are safe now. And you truly feel well?”
Elizabeth hesitated only a moment before nodding. “I do. Though I may never be able to drink a full cup of water again without honestly appreciating it.”
Mrs. Gardiner huffed a soft laugh and squeezed her hand. But then she gave Elizabeth a knowing look. “And Mr. Darcy?”
Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. “What of him?”
Her aunt wetted her lips, drawing in a careful breath. “Well, I am sure he feels responsible for you. He was… rather distressed, when he came to the house this afternoon. I can well imagine that… naturally, after the fear of what might be, the exertion of searching for you… well, any man might be…”
“Emotional?” Elizabeth scoffed. “You do not know Mr. Darcy.”
“Certainly he was relieved,” her aunt pressed. “It would be quite expected for a gentlemen to… express himself with some… vehemence…”
“Aunt,” Elizabeth sighed, “what are you asking?”
Mrs. Gardiner swallowed. “Has he given you… too many assurances? More than… your connection would warrant?”
Elizabeth stiffened slightly, her pulse stuttering. But then she forced a smile, shaking her head. “No,” she said softly. “That is not the case.”
Her aunt studied her carefully, her expression warm but curious.
Elizabeth swallowed past the sudden tightness in her throat. “He has done only what we originally agreed upon,” she insisted. “No more, and certainly no less. I will have to find a way to thank him for his kindness someday. As a friend.”
Mrs. Gardiner was silent for a long moment before she reached up, brushing a stray curl from Elizabeth’s forehead. “Perhaps,” she said gently, “he has already received his thanks.”
Elizabeth blinked, but before she could respond, her aunt squeezed her hands once more. “You should rest, my dear. We will speak in the morning.”
Elizabeth nodded, allowing herself to sink into the bed as Mrs. Gardiner moved toward the door.
But as the door clicked shut and the fire flickered in the dim room, Elizabeth could not shake the quiet ache in her chest.
She did not want to leave this house.
She did not want to leave him .