Chapter 34
Richard had dragged Darcy out for a dawn ride, his cousin as grimly serious as the previous days. Darcy’s gaze searched the landscape ceaselessly, despite knowing he’d had every inch searched.
But now it was time to return to the house, and Richard walked with Darcy up to the master’s chambers and ensured he delivered him to his valet.
“You will sit and be shaved, Darce. You will allow Maunder to do his job properly, and you will come down to breakfast, not have coffee up here.”
His cousin scowled, but entered the room, his gaze on the door of the mistress’s chambers.
Richard turned for his own chamber, always reserved for him in the family wing.
He shook his head as he passed the unused chambers.
Darcy had shown him the rooms Mrs Darcy had used during the months she had been here.
No more than any guest would have had. How miserable she must have been.
And it had been obvious to him when he called here at the beginning of February.
Darcy had obviously not been ready to take his advice, and he wished now that he had pushed harder for Darcy to accept help, to ensure Mrs Darcy had support from his own family and that a companion had been appointed.
Perhaps this whole disaster could have been avoided.
But the letter she had left for Darcy had been searingly honest, and Richard felt a sense of the same shame as his cousin. Why had the family not at the very least discovered the date of her birth? A note from his mother might have made all the difference.
As would Darcy having rescinded the restrictions on her writing to her family, of course.
In the breakfast room, he waited for him, determined to manage this debacle rather better, as his cousin seemed unable to think of anything but finding his wife.
Richard frowned at his plate. It had been the best part of a week now, and no trace of the lady, either living or dead. It seemed she had meant every word of what she wrote and it was becoming ever more likely that she would never be found.
He wondered how to help Darcy come to accept that reality. But it could not be yet. The man seemed to be beside himself, far more than merely for guilt. It seemed he had perhaps been coming to care for her and thus her loss would be doubly devastating.
Darcy entered the room. His valet had obviously made a herculean effort, for his cousin was neatly shaven and immaculately dressed. But his gaunt features and grey complexion told a different story, as did the dark circles under his eyes and air of exhaustion.
Darcy slumped into his chair and indicated to the footman, who came forward with the coffee jug.
Richard got to his feet and went to the sideboard, placing two coddled eggs and a single slice of toast on a small plate. Darcy would lose whatever appetite he could summon if faced with a full portion.
Richard read the headlines of the paper beside his plate, trying not to watch as Darcy stared sightlessly past his copy of the Times and the plate at the crisply white, starched tablecloth.
Eventually, he lifted his fork and mechanically began to eat without any sign that he knew what he was eating, and Richard breathed a sigh of relief.
He put down his own knife and fork as Darcy finished. “Shall we take coffee in your study, Darce?”
His cousin looked up in apparent surprise that there was anyone with him.
“I thought I would search to the west of the woodland first, Richard. While the light is good. If I find nothing,” his voice cracked, “I will send for the Runners. Twenty or fifty men could extend the reach of the search. If … if Elizabeth has been …”
Richard shook his head forcefully. “We will discuss this in your study, Cousin. You went to the western side yesterday.” He turned to the footman. “Please arrange for coffee.”
Once in private with the door shut, he turned to Darcy. “You cannot inform the Runners. Once you do that, half the ton will know the very next day. We must avert a scandal, we must.”
“But how else …?”
“No. The Runners are not the right way. We owe it to Georgiana. She survived one scandal and you did well that it was kept quiet. But this way, it could never be hidden.”
He clapped Darcy on the shoulder, propelling him into his chair and grinned. “You would have my mother up here within the week, trying to blame Mrs Darcy and fussing around you. Just be glad they are in town and not still at Matlock.”
Darcy grimaced. “I cannot just sit here!”
“Oh, no. You are not going to do that.” Richard crossed to the desk and picked up a handful of letters from the pile on the desk. “Let us go through these and decide which must be answered.”
Darcy’s incredulous stare made him sigh.
“Darcy, we have been friends since we were small, as close as brothers. I know how you feel. But it has been nearly a week. It is certain that Mrs Darcy is determined not to be found. She has not met with an accident, or we would have known about it.” He raised his hand to prevent interruption.
“We will keep searching, we will. But it will take time, and in the meantime, you will still have to run Pemberley, will still have to deal with everything else that happens.” He dropped the letters into Darcy’s lap. “Now, open the first one.”
He waited until his cousin broke the seal. “As I said, I have another week, or a little longer before I must return to duty. Let us sort all this out and then we can drive south together.”
Darcy’s brow furrowed and he looked up questioningly. Richard raised his brows. “I return to my duties. And you — you must go to Longbourn. They might have heard from her.”
Darcy jumped to his feet, letters scattering around his feet as hope and dread warred in his eyes.