Chapter 30
CHAPTER THIRTY
T he couple had largely managed to avoid Lady Catherine’s company for the remainder of Friday, save for one unavoidable instance. Darcy had been called to her chamber to defend Fitzwilliam’s sudden departure and listen to her vociferous complaints on the matter. Apparently, the colonel’s excuse of ‘pressing business for my unit’ had not satisfied her, though likely nothing would have. Darcy had escaped her clutches by fabricating a need to attend Elizabeth, whom her ladyship was told was bedridden. Every offer of succour from tea to calling upon the services of Dr Nichols had been firmly rebuffed, leaving their hostess more irritable than ever.
At length, Darcy had managed to extricate himself and return to a fretful Elizabeth, whom he had safely ensconced in their shared chambers with Blake and Freddy standing guard. Their personal servants had not been apprised of the full scope of their suspicions—it was far too soon to risk such exposure of Lady Catherine’ s character; what if they were wrong?—but were told enough to understand that no one besides themselves were to be trusted with Mrs Darcy’s care. Darcy had given them some twaddle about her stomach being too sensitive for the food of Rosings Park, but he had been so severe on the subject that it left no room for countermand. It was clear from Blake’s minute attention to Elizabeth’s every sniffle and Bailey’s reported row with the chef that they were taking his admonitions seriously.
Freddy had remained at Elizabeth’s side, despite the continued protestations of Percy, for Darcy would not countenance any comfort being revoked from his beloved wife. Freddy had been a stalwart companion and soothing influence on her fraying nerves. Though often wilfully playful, the dog had seemed to sense that her mistress required steadiness, and she provided it ably.
As safe as she felt surrounded by Darcy, Freddy, and their servants, Elizabeth found herself frequently anxious about the babe. She had discovered that they would become active immediately after she ate, so she kept a plate of biscuits—whose baking Blake had carefully managed herself—at hand to nibble on whenever she required the reassurance of feeling her child move.
Elizabeth had dreamt of Anne again the previous night and informed her of the colonel’s jaunt to London to seek out Mrs Jenkinson. Anne had nodded as if already aware of this, which Elizabeth supposed she must be; it had become apparent of late that Anne was watching over them all like a guardian angel.
Since Elizabeth had woken with a headache and it continued to rain, albeit at more of a drizzle than a deluge, it had been agreed that the Darcys would remain in their chambers for the day rather than going down to the library. They had snoozed away the early morning, then pursued quiet activities to keep their minds active while their bodies remained stationary. Both of them frequently peered out of the window in hopes of seeing a carriage rolling up the drive.
Darcy stood from the desk where he had been languorously attending to his correspondence, groaning and stretching out his back. After a particularly loud pop, he lamented, “I am growing too old to sit for so long.”
Freddy unfurled herself and hopped from the bed. She went to Darcy and began pawing at his leg, whining.
“I believe she requires a walk,” Elizabeth commented around a yawn. “I could use one as well, lest I fall asleep, but I suppose I ought to remain here.” She nodded to the window, which was bespeckled with rain droplets.
Darcy ruffled Freddy’s ears indulgently. “Agreed. I shall take her myself. I would enjoy stretching my legs, even if I must get a little damp in the pursuit. Let me call for Blake so she can sit with you while I am gone.”
“No, leave Blake to her duties. She ought to be bringing a tray up soon and even now is likely overseeing its creation.”
Frowning, Darcy protested, “You cannot be in here alone.”
“Nonsense, I am perfectly safe in our rooms with the doors locked. You will return shortly, I am sure, and Blake will undoubtedly be here before you. If I am alone for more than five minutes I shall be greatly surprised.”
Darcy’s eyes darted between her and an increasingly agitated Freddy, who was dancing on her paws in that particular way that meant she was on the verge of soiling the carpet. He sighed resignedly. “Very well, but be sure to lock the door after I leave, and do not open it to anyone besides me. Promise me.”
She yawned again, delaying her reply. “I promise.”
“Very good.” Darcy planted a kiss to her forehead, then left with Freddy trotting after him.
Elizabeth remained reclined in her window seat for a few dozing minutes, disinclined to move due to her weighty fatigue. When her chin dipped to her chest and she startled back to full wakefulness, an errant thought reminded her that she had not locked the door after Darcy’s departure. With a stretch and a groan, she roused herself and shuffled across the room.
She had just reached for the key when a heavy knock sounded from the other side. Assuming it was her husband, chased back indoors by the pelting rain, she grasped the latch and pulled the door open, prepared to favour him with a teasing jest.
It withered on her tongue an instant later as she realised her error. She moved to close the door again but found it blocked by the blunt, silver-tipped end of a cane, which shoved against the wood with enough force to cause her to lose her footing. This was enough to grant entry to Lady Catherine.
“I see you are up and about again, Miss Bennet,” observed the lady as she pushed her way inside, her steps uneven on her injured ankle. She nudged the door closed behind her with the cane. “You might have improved faster had you drunk my tonic when you had the chance.”
Elizabeth, still unsteady on her feet thanks to her shock, staggered backwards and away from the intruder. She regained her balance against one of the bedposts, placing it between her and Lady Catherine like a sentinel. “I rather doubt that.”
Lady Catherine leant heavily on her cane in her pursuit. “What do you know, impertinent chit that you are?”
Standing straight and steady, Elizabeth declared, “I know everything.”
Almost the moment he and Freddy had stepped out of doors, the anxiously awaited carriage containing Fitzwilliam and Lord Matlock pulled up in the drive. His cousin sprang out of it the instant that it halted, his uncle scrambling after him, and they raced up the steps and into the front hall without awaiting assistance from the bevy of footmen and their umbrellas.
Darcy was hard upon their heels, eager for news. He was so impatient for it that he blithely disregarded Percy’s cry of dismay when Freddy shook herself dry all over his livery. “Well?”
Fitzwilliam swept his hat from his head, then slicked his damp, ruddy hair away from his face. His countenance was grim. “It is all true.”
“All of it?” Although he had rationally expected this conclusion, Darcy was aghast all the same. “Mrs Jenkinson corroborated Anne’s testimony?”
“She did, indeed,” said Lord Matlock, answering for his son. Although the earl could never be accurately described as a cheerful sort of man, rarely did he carry the sort of gravity that seemed to weigh upon his shoulders at present. “Spoke to her myself, after Richard brought her to me. He showed me the diary as well. My sister has much to answer for.”
“Where is Mrs Jenkinson?”
Lord Matlock grunted as he shrugged out of his damp greatcoat. “In London, under my protection, as is the will she concealed on Anne’s behalf. It, as well as the diary, are in the safekeeping of my solicitor.”
“And who?—”
A loud crash sounded from above, inducing all three gentlemen to angle their heads back and stare at the ceiling, mouths gaping open. Freddy’s ears lay flat upon her head, and the hair on her neck stood to attention as she growled in the wake of the commotion.
“What the devil was that?” demanded Lord Matlock.
Clang, clang, clang !
An icy feeling of deepest dread filled Darcy’s gut. “Elizabeth!”
He was darting up the stairs without being conscious of taking flight. Freddy was ahead of him by several paces, while Fitzwilliam and Lord Matlock hurried along behind, all of them desperate to thwart whatever calamity was now occurring.