Chapter 11
Eleven
CLOSE ENCOUNTERS
The last time Darcy had been riding, very near this same location, he had asked himself the same question: “What am I doing here?”
Well, he was not quite in the same place—he had paid attention to property lines this time, and was still firmly upon Netherfield land. But he was as close to Longbourn property as he could be, without actually trespassing upon it.
Face it, Darcy, you are stalking the girl like some nefarious cretin, obsessed with a young lady whom you ought never to consider again.
No sooner had he thought it, and because he was losing his mind, he proceeded to argue with himself.
I only desire to know whether she reached home safely.
Her sister was searching for her at the close of the assembly, and could not find her.
He had even nudged Bingley to search along the road to Longbourn, ostensibly on Miss Bennet’s behalf, to see if Miss Elizabeth could be found—since it was clear that Mr Philips could not have cared less what happened to her.
Wickham and his cronies—who ought never to have been allowed at a subscription event, since he doubted any of them had contributed a single groat to the costs—had disappeared when Goulding fell ill and it became clear that the entertainment for the evening was finished.
However, in the subsequent commotion, he had failed to note the exact time of their departures.
One moment Miss Elizabeth had been in the crowd of horrified onlookers, awaiting the apothecary’s pronouncements; the next, he had lost sight of her.
Of course, he had afterwards to cool his heels while Bingley made yet another prolonged farewell to Miss Bennet, all the while wondering whether Elizabeth, Miss Elizabeth, was safe.
What, however, had he hoped to accomplish by skirting the edges of Netherfield lands today?
It was not as if he could see through the dense trees and look in on her.
Even less could he imagine appearing on her doorstep, demanding to know where she had gone and with whom.
Sighing into the stiffening breeze, he was about to turn Gallant back towards Netherfield when the strangest sight appeared in the distance.
It was a young boy running swiftly in his direction, the wind whipping at his curls, his little arms and legs pumping.
Darcy leapt off his horse, for it appeared the lad was charging directly for the brambles ringing the nearby woods.
But at the last minute, he veered directly towards Darcy and lunged at Gallant.
Edward Bennet, careening at full speed, heedless of his own safety.
Darcy reached out, snatching him up at the last second while the boy struggled to reach the horse—not seeming to notice Darcy at all, except as an impediment obstructing what he wanted. “Where is Elizabeth?” he asked the blond child in his arms.
“Dock-uh-dock-uh-dude,” the boy said, arms still outstretched towards Gallant.
He was not answering the question, Darcy judged, even with a toddler’s infantile pronunciation.
In fact, he doubted the child had acknowledged that there was a question.
It was clear what he wanted, that he was fascinated with Gallant.
However, Gallant was not the steed one would use to introduce a young child to horses.
Already, the stallion was flicking his tail nervously, his hooves restless.
The child reached out, trying to get to the animal.
“Edward! Neddy! Stop! No!”
It was futile, as if he had not spoken. Gallant shifted again, the whites of his eyes showing, and Darcy knew it behoved him to move the boy away.
With one hand, he looped the reins over a nearby branch—not easy, because the child wanted to touch the saddle, the mane, the ears, or any part of the animal he could reach.
Despite his small size, he was sturdy and single-minded in his intent.
At last, he had the beast tethered and could stride farther away from it.
Once Edward recognised that Darcy was heading in the opposite direction of the object of his pursuit, he began fighting, reaching for his face—most likely to try and claw himself free.
Darcy simply tipped him back over his shoulder so that the boy was hanging upside-down, his little arms unable to reach anything vulnerable.
The child shrieked his fury and frustration.
In the distance he heard a woman’s frantic voice calling, “Neddy! Neddy!”
Even from here, he could tell it was Elizabeth’s voice. She sounded panicked; undoubtedly she had heard her brother’s screams. It was probable that coming upon him dangling the child upside-down was unlikely to impress her.
Easily he hefted Edward, turning him in his arms so he faced outwards, and Darcy had a better hold upon him. There was a large fallen log nearby; he seated them both, keeping his grip firm. Edward struggled but could not free himself.
“Give up,” he told the boy. “I can hold you like this all day.” The words made no difference to the child’s struggles. “Miss Elizabeth!” he shouted, as loudly as he could in the direction of her calls. “This way! I have your brother! He is safe.”
It was a very few minutes before she reappeared, grappling her way through the thick brush; her bonnet had come loose, trailing down her back, and there were tears in her skirt.
“Neddy!” she cried, running to them, arms outstretched.
The child’s struggles, which had begun to fade, began anew.
“I cannot release him,” Darcy said soberly. “He is determined to reach Gallant. He seems to be… infatuated.”
At his words, her expressive eyes took on a look he could not like, a sadness that was much too close to despair. Somewhat to his surprise, she sat down beside him instead of offering protests to his hold on the boy.
“Neddy is fascinated with horses,” Elizabeth replied.
“However, he is not allowed near the stables, and seldom sees them. I do not know how but by some means he knew a horse was near, even through the trees. He has not tried to escape my hold in months, but he did, and I believe it was because of the horse’s presence. He was chasing after it.”
“Ah. Does he often try to escape to the stables?”
“No. Neddy is…he does not quite…that is, he probably would, if he realised where the stables were in relation to Fox Hollow. I never take him near them, else my life would be spent in nothing but—” The boy flung himself forwards, trying to break away.
He began screaming at the top of his lungs, and tried to bite Darcy’s arm.
Darcy managed to control him and avoid the boy’s mouth, doing his best to keep his own frustration with the boy under a firm control, while Elizabeth grabbed his head and did not allow it to reach Darcy’s arms. He kept his voice gentle but firm.
“Edward, you must stop this. Hurting people is bad. The horse is dangerous. We do not touch the horse, not this horse. He is a nervous creature who bites and kicks. He is not a horse for a child.”
“It will do no good,” Elizabeth said, and there was poignant emotion in her voice. “He does not understand. No matter what I try, he does not understand.”
“Do you think his hearing is amiss?”
“No. When something interests him, he seems to hear well enough. He must have heard the sound of your horse from afar, it is the one thing that makes sense. I envy you your strength. What shall I do, Mr Darcy, in a few short years when he can overpower me? If I cannot keep him safe, he is doomed, I fear. If only I were a man!”
“Miss Elizabeth, the world would be a far worse place if you were a man. Let us take him home, or at the very least, out of sight of Gallant.”