Chapter 1
Darcy
Darcy was awakened by a knock, before dawn. In confusion, he grasped for the date—it was September first. Bingley was expected to arrive later that day.
Another knock, and then Netherfield’s butler’s voice, “Mr Darcy.”
Being awakened by Carter felt entirely ominous, and Darcy sprang up, suddenly wide awake.
He opened his door to the words, “So sorry for waking you, sir.” The butler looked entirely professional despite the fact that he was still wearing sleep clothes and a robe, and Darcy gave him a courteous nod and sincere thanks as he took the missive the butler held out.
Richard! was Darcy’s immediate thought—his cousin, a colonel in the British army, had recently shipped out to what he assumed was a dangerous assignment. As he tore open the seal and unfolded the letter, Darcy saw that it did, indeed, pertain to his cousin.
But Richard was still alive! Thank the Lord!
Darcy scanned the express once and rang for his valet.
Having swiftly dressed and made arrangements for Hopkins to, first, alert the carriage driver to ready the carriage and horses for an unplanned voyage and, second, pack clothing for the same, Darcy strode to Georgiana’s rooms.
Madison, Georgiana’s lady’s maid, opened the door, looking shocked and confused. Though he addressed her with a soft voice, he deliberately maintained his Master of Pemberley persona as he gave her several orders. “We will be leaving at six,” he concluded.
Downstairs, Mrs Nicholls was scrambling to accommodate an emergency exit of Netherfield’s guests. She stood by and listened to his orders, and then she hastened to work. There was certainly more hustle in the household than usual for half past four in the morning!
Darcy exited the house, heading for the stables, and he rode Gulltoppr, not to the meeting spot that Elizabeth and he had used so often, but all the way to Longbourn.
He knocked on the door with so much confidence, it did not even occur to a startled yet sleepy Hill to deny him entrance.
She led him into the parlour and then went upstairs to rouse Elizabeth.
Elizabeth approached with a shocked look on her pale face. “Is Georgiana well?” she asked—too loudly, given the hour. He nodded his head swiftly and whispered, “Richard is injured. Aunt Helen says he is asking for me. She says that the doctors give some hope, but she is convinced that he is dying.”
“Oh!” Elizabeth’s eyes filled with tears. She gripped his hand. “So you are going. But where? Is he in Portsmouth?”
“For some reason he has been sent to London. Georgiana and I are going immediately, at six. Bingley is arriving later today, back from setting up Miss Bingley’s care, and I will leave a note for him.”
“How long—” Elizabeth hesitated and looked embarrassed. “I apologise. I do not mean to be selfish.”
“I promise, even if the worst should happen, we will be back in time for the wedding.”
Elizabeth nodded, and a few tears slipped down her cheeks, but she maintained her determined expression, and Darcy knew that she was trying to keep her composure for his sake. “I will miss you terribly, and I will write to you,” he promised.
“I will do the same. Miss you, I mean, as well as write to you.”
Hill had remained in the room, for propriety’s sake, but now she bent over the hearth and began to arrange for an early-morning fire. This kindly act was, he hoped, meant to allow them to kiss. They did, but only briefly, of course. Then he took his leave and made his way back to Netherfield.
Later, as Georgiana and Darcy rode away towards London, he felt as if he had left his heart behind. Which he very much had.