Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
D arcy’s hands shook as he fumbled with the spine of Le Morte d’Arthur, and he swore in frustration. At last, he managed to engage the mechanism that operated the hidden door, and it opened for him. He had burst through it and into Sir Lewis’s study before the gears stopped whirring. “I cannot find her anywhere!”
Fitzwilliam sat up straight in his armchair, fully at attention. “What do you mean? Cannot find whom?”
“Elizabeth!” cried Darcy, stalking across the floor to stand immediately before his cousin. “I have looked everywhere. She is not in our chambers, she is not sitting with Lady Catherine, she is not in the gardens—she is missing .”
Fitzwilliam stood, set his port aside, and held both his hands out to Darcy in a placatory manner. “You know how your wife likes to walk. She is very likely in the grounds somewhere. If not, I dare say we can find her in Mrs Collins’s parlour. ”
“I have already been there! Mr Collins went on and on about Freddy turning up his bloody flowers before I could get him to tell me anything of the whereabouts of my wife. His only suggestion was that she must have returned to Rosings, but I met her neither on the way there nor on the way back.” Darcy’s panic was mounting at the recitation of each salient fact; he had never felt so helpless, not even in the wake of learning of Elizabeth’s pregnancy. Where can she be?
“There are numerous paths through the woods. She might be strolling along any of them.”
“She ought not to be walking here, there, and yon in her condition! She did not even take her maid with her.”
“She is with child, not an invalid. Has she not been walking about Pemberley these past months?”
Darcy tunnelled his fingers through his hair and grasped it in frustration. It was becoming more difficult to breathe as his heart raced ever faster. “That is neither here nor there. We must focus our attention on the present. Elizabeth might be in danger.”
“In danger from what? It is a pleasant spring day, warmer even than one would expect this time of year, and no highwayman who valued his hide would dare set foot at Rosings Park.”
“She is not as familiar with the countryside hereabouts as she is at home. She might get lost, or injured, or suffer some other calamity without anyone nearby to assist her. Anything could happen.”
“True, but she might as easily get struck by a carriage crossing the street in front of Darcy House. So might you or I for that matter.” Fitzwilliam was admirably maintaining a low, soothing tone as he addressed his distressed cousin. “We cannot allow ourselves to fear the unknown, else we might never set foot outside our homes. Even there, your house might catch fire, or a bookshelf might topple over on you?—”
“ Fitzwilliam .”
“My point being, you cannot control the world around you. There will always be some chance of ill luck no matter what you do or where you go. You cannot coddle Elizabeth to such a degree that you deny her any freedom, else you will make her miserable.”
Darcy readily recognised that his cousin’s advice was sound, but he could not regulate the hysteria that was overtaking his composure. “I will not rest until we find Elizabeth.”
Sighing and shaking his head, Fitzwilliam straightened the lapels of his jacket. “Lead on, then.”
As Elizabeth and Freddy crossed the vast, fastidiously maintained great lawn of Rosings Park, they were hastily met by Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam. The former was dashing across the grass and leaping over shrubs in a manner that almost certainly would give the head gardener the vapours, while the latter jogged at a more reasonable pace in his cousin’s wake.
“Elizabeth!” Darcy cried once he had reached her and enveloped her in his arms. Freddy barked and leapt upon them, but Darcy waved her away with one hand while cradling Elizabeth’s head against his chest with the other. From the corner of her eye, she witnessed the colonel take the dog by the collar and tug her out of the way.
Elizabeth gasped at the sudden and fierce embrace. “What is wrong?”
Without releasing her, Darcy scolded, “Where have you been? I have been looking for you everywhere.”
“I went to the parsonage, then I took a walk through the woods. You never mentioned the tow?—”
Darcy set her away from himself, his expression dark and lightning crackling behind his eyes. “Without telling anyone where you were going? Without taking a maid with you? What were you thinking?”
“I was thinking that I am a grown woman who is free to do as she pleases, within reason. I cannot see how taking a walk is un reasonable. I have done it before, I dare say I shall do it again, and I do not understand your objection.”
“You are with child !” he hissed, as if that resolved the matter. Perhaps it did to his satisfaction, but not hers.
She strove to speak with patience. “I was in no danger at any time during my excursion. I walk frequently?—”
“Not at Rosings Park, you do not.”
“I shall remind you, since you have apparently forgotten, that I was much in the habit of walking the groves hereabouts last spring, and no harm ever befell me then. You ought to recall it well since you frequently sought my company on those rambles. The only difference between then and now is the child I am carrying, but that is hardly reason to confine me to the house.”
“I disagree.” Darcy’s nostrils flared as if he were an antagonised bull. “Anything might have happened to you, and you would have had no recourse. Did you think Freddy would come and fetch someone from the manor if you suffered an accident?”
Elizabeth glanced at Freddy, who was still being held back by an uncomfortable colonel a few yards away. She was a sweet, clever thing, but still a dog and not a fit companion should anything befall her mistress. However, she could concede nothing of the sort to Darcy. “You are being ridiculous. You do not even know what you are afraid of other than some unknowable calamity.”
Darcy’s response was like the harsh lash of a whip, swift and brutal in its delivery. “I am not being ridiculous. I am being properly cautious. You ought to learn a little something of caution before becoming a mother—do you not agree?”
Elizabeth felt this admonishment as a physical blow, which stung enough to bring tears to her eyes. It was one thing to fret internally over whether or not she would be a good mother but another entirely to hear her husband question her competency. Whatever small confidence Charlotte had inspired crumbled into dust.
Blinking rapidly, she stepped back and out of Darcy’s hold. “I see. The reason you treat me like a child is because you doubt my ability to raise one.”
“That is not what I meant?—”
Elizabeth swiftly held up a hand—one which trembled with contained emotion. Her voice shook likewise. “I clearly have no notion of my own strength and am completely incapable of behaving responsibly. I ought to go indoors before I harm myself or the baby. Every moment I stand here I increase my risk of potential tragedy. What if a bird should fall from the sky, knock me on the head, and render me senseless?”
“Now who is being ridiculous?” Darcy lifted his hands only to drop them back to his sides, looking helplessly exasperated. “You have twisted what I said into something absurd.”
“Not absurd at all—perfectly rational. Anything could happen. Excuse me, I ought to go and lie down before I collapse or fall into a hole in the lawn.”
As she turned, Darcy reached out and lightly grasped her elbow, halting her. His expression was penitent, yet he still retained his air of righteousness. “I did not mean to be so harsh, but you must understand that you are no longer responsible only for yourself. There is our child to think of, and?—”
She snatched her arm from his keeping and resumed stalking towards the house, calling out to him with her back turned, “I beg your leave, sir, for I am too enfeebled to continue in my condition. Do apologise to your aunt for me.”