Chapter 14 #3
She watched Darcy playfully shove his cousin—making the colonel laugh—and then walk away, still smiling.
The mirth slowly faded from his face as he sat with Miss Darcy, admiring her work and likely saying all the things an attentive older brother ought to say.
Colonel Fitzwilliam, now by himself, noticed Elizabeth’s attention and joined her at the instrument.
“No, Miss Bennet, I cannot tell you what I said to him. Men must have their secrets, you know,” he said with a wink.
She laughed. “I hardly care what you said to him.” At his disbelieving look, she added in a lower voice, “There is a sadness now that overshadows Mr Darcy’s countenance. I am simply happy to see it lifted.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam looked at his cousin, with a sad little smile. “Darcy has a more sorrowing heart than one might expect. Not for his own affairs,” he added quickly, “but for those dear to him.”
“He has scarcely smiled this week, let alone laughed. I understand it, of course, but I see a weariness in him, and I worry for his equanimity.”
Elizabeth felt Colonel Fitzwilliam’s attention and busied herself with looking through the sheet music. To him, she must sound strangely protective of an independent man, who had lived in the world, who had every advantage. I sound too affectionate for his friend’s sister-in-law.
“Darcy feels these things more than any other person I have met with,” he said quietly. “I am exceedingly sorry to see him so. It is more than responsibility or duty towards the people here. I cannot quite describe it,” he said, shaking his head.
“He is extremely affected by their suffering,” Elizabeth said softly, still looking at Darcy.
He noticed their attention and left his sister to come nearer. “You two have been looking at me,” Darcy said with an air of nervousness she was surprised to see. “What have you been talking of?”
“We were noticing how dull you look,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said quickly, “and it must be because there are so few women here to shower you with attention, hoping to engage in a flirtation. You must be terribly lonely without half a dozen single women trying to make you fall a little bit in love with them.”
The look Darcy was giving his cousin was thunderous. “Yes, a commonplace flirtation with any woman breathing sounds very like me.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam pretended to look around the room. “Where are the ladies breaking their hearts over you? Where is there a woman for you to flirt with?”
This was said heavily, and Elizabeth blushed.
Darcy did not look half as amused as his cousin, and Elizabeth decided to spare him this unwanted teasing.
“I suppose it is because Mr Darcy put out mantraps, or should I say womantraps, around his grounds to discourage the hordes of women who seek his perfection.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam barked a laugh whilst Darcy gave her a little smile. “Indeed. It is the only reason I can sleep peacefully at night, knowing that I am safe from senseless chatter and empty flirtations.”
There was a moment of silence where Colonel Fitzwilliam looked expectantly between them, but she and Darcy only smiled shyly and said nothing. The colonel huffed. “Well, if there are traps across the park, for your safety Darcy must have taken you touring elsewhere in the Peak?”
“Hester and I went to Haddon Hall with the Bingleys, and Mr Darcy brought us to a charming well dressing festival in Bakewell”—she gave Darcy a smile—“but all I have seen of Derbyshire has been this park. Whilst avoiding the womantraps, of course.”
“That will not do. Mrs Lanyon,” Colonel Fitzwilliam called across the room, interrupting Hester’s conversation with Mrs Annesley, “this is your first time in Derbyshire also, is it not?” She nodded.
“Darcy, we ought to take the ladies to see some of the picturesque beauties of the Peak. Where ought we to go?”
“Oh, we could take them to Dovedale,” Miss Darcy cried.
The proposal was caught by delight. Miss Darcy, Mrs Annesley, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and Hester all talked on of exploring the dale, and a picnic, and it was only a morning’s ride—fifteen miles—and would the views not be well worth it, and they could have it all arranged to leave in the morning.
Elizabeth had nothing to say against it, but Darcy had not joined in everyone’s enthusiasm.
Colonel Fitzwilliam was still seated by her at the instrument, and he rose upon seeing a rather emphatic look in Darcy’s eyes.
Darcy led him a little apart and behind her.
They spoke quietly, but were not as far away from her as they suspected.
“If I leave, my concerns at Pemberley are left as a body without a head,” she heard Darcy whisper harshly.
“It is one day! Your steward can oversee matters for one day.”
“You know that is not the only—”
“And you cannot accuse Balfour or Utterson until they return, and until I investigate the pawnshops,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said sharply. “Search their rooms before we leave, but you won’t solve anything else tomorrow, so you may as well amuse your guests with an exploring party to Dovedale.”
Realisation struck Elizabeth. Darcy and his cousin suspected that either Mr Balfour or Mr Utterson were behind the looting in Lambton.
They thought one of them stole items from the village and then pawned them for money.
One of them must have taken the candlestick from old Mr Darcy’s room as well.
What a deception from a man she had thought was a gentleman, and poor Darcy, to be deceived by a friend.
Her breath came faster, and she felt a sickening coldness creep over her. Darcy thinks one of them killed Carew.
She brought a hand to her mouth to stifle a cry of surprise.
Every feeling revolted against it, but she could not allow her reason to falter.
Both men had a want of money, they both liked to spend beyond their means, they both had the opportunity to loot the village, and they both were known to be away from the house when Carew died.
She blew out a breath and forced her shaking fingers into fists on her lap.
One of Darcy’s friends might be a murderer.
It was little wonder acute sorrow seemed to have settled in his eyes.
“I intend to!” she heard Darcy cry.
“Yes, well, a smile, half-bow, and a wish that she has a good morning whilst you do not see each other for the next eight hours, and then spend the evening in mixed company will hardly get the desired result!” Colonel Fitzwilliam’s voice had raised too, and she turned to learn what it meant.
They noticed her, and the effect was immediate: Darcy’s expression softened, and Colonel Fitzwilliam bowed and walked away.
“You, you did not hear much, did you?” Darcy asked in a low voice. “I mean . . . nothing to distress you, I hope?”
He does not want to worry me because I already suspect that Carew’s death was not an accident.
To see the man she loved distressed, and to be unable to relieve him, was a painful affliction she would not wish on anyone.
The least she could do was pretend that she was not terrified as her mind jumped from wondering if it was Mr Balfour or Mr Utterson who was a killer.
“No, not at all,” she said, but from Darcy’s troubled expression, he did not believe her. She ought to try to bring back some of the smiles he had worn earlier. “What think you of the visit to Dovedale tomorrow? I should like it very much.”
“It is one of the most pleasing scenes of the Peak,” he said, but with no enthusiasm.
She would not now mention the horrid idea that one of his friends might be behind the death of one of his servants. “Hearing and answering applications for help leaves you no hours for recreation. I hope you can enjoy one sightseeing afternoon without feeling guilty.”
She could see in his face that was precisely how he felt. “I will feel guilty, but you and Fitzwilliam are determined to see me go.” Darcy smiled, and she could see him putting in the effort to be agreeable. “For your sake, I shall show you all the beauties of the valley and the River Dove.”
“I hope you can enjoy it, Darcy. I know”—she placed a hand on his arm—“I know you have much to worry you, and how much you care for the people here.” She dropped her voice and gave him an earnest look. “You can be honest, you know, with me. You need not pretend you are not afflicted for my sake.”
She had drawn her hand down his arm before removing it, and he grasped her hand, lightly, giving her fingers a squeeze before letting go.
“I do,” he said slowly, “I do feel a duty, a responsibility that weighs heavily on me, more so than anything I have ever felt.” He looked her full in the face, and for a moment she thought he might mention his fears about Carew’s death but, in the end, he only said, “Miss Bennet, I dare not say more about it, but if I were to wish a bitter curse on an enemy, I should put him in my place with my feelings.”
She tried to imagine his loss in knowing that one of his friends was a killer—his strain, his fear—but she knew what she imagined could never match Darcy’s reality.
If she could not share his concerns, she would try to raise his spirits.
“That would put Mr Wickham as Pemberley’s master, and that would gall you more.
” She smiled at his surprised expression, and he laughed a little.
“So I think it best if you remain Pemberley’s caretaker. ”
“You intend to tease me?”
“Absolutely, if you will let me.”
The look Darcy gave her was so tender she wondered if he was about to declare all of the sentiments she hoped he would confess. Elizabeth then noticed how the rest of the room was watching, and she took a small step away from him.
“Shall we enjoy ourselves tomorrow?” she said in a more conversational tone. “Can you suffer a few hours with your friends, as a reward for the effort you have already put forth for Pemberley?”
Darcy too noticed that they had gained the attention of everyone else. He lowered his voice, and even bent a little lower to look directly into her eyes. “I shall suffer ten times more if I am not with you.”