Pursuit
Halfway between Hunsford Village and Rosings, Darcy slowed from a run to a walk—for several reasons.
He did not wish to incite gossip, or anything else that might involve Rosings in his or Elizabeth’s affairs, nor risk damaging her reputation.
He also had his dignity to consider. Running was most unseemly.
In the recesses of his mind, he also sheepishly admitted it might be because he was sweating like a pig, panting like a racehorse, and near collapse.
He was no athlete, and it was far easier to cover a few miles on horseback than on foot.
By the time he returned to Rosings, he was restored to reasonable regulation in body. His spirit, on the other hand, was battered and bruised. His pride was best left unexamined.
As he approached Rosings, he saw a vision of his father offering him perhaps his best piece of advice.
Son, you need to be strong and resolute, but sometimes you will need help and there is no shame in seeking it. In fact, seeking help when you need it shows strength, not weakness.
He needed help to keep silence about the day's events, and to quell panic over Miss Elizabeth's abrupt absence. This demanded aid from both the colonel and Mrs Collins, and they needed to act before the lady’s absence was noted.
Mrs Collins would certainly worry about her friend’s absence from the parsonage.
He hoped Miss Elizabeth would compose a convincing tale, but even if she sent an express from London, the message would not arrive until quite late; nor was there a guarantee she could afford an express with the funds in her reticule.
In fact, he was not even certain ladies kept enough on hand for the fare to London.
She might return in an hour, having wasted a journey to the first stop and back.
Not in the least prepared to face his aunt at present—or perhaps ever again—he entered through a hidden side door and took the time-honoured route devised with his cousins to avoid their aunt to the parlour's edge, invisible from his aunt's usual throne.
He manoeuvred until the colonel alone could see him, then signalled for a clandestine meeting.
When the colonel exited, Darcy drew him into a storage room.
The colonel did not appear unduly concerned by Darcy’s odd behaviour, as he was rarely overly concerned about much of anything. “What is this about, Darcy?”
Darcy took a deep breath. “Miss Bennet.”
Before he could say more, a feminine voice intruded. “I wish you would just propose to her and have done with it before you drive me mad! Are you a man or a mouse?”
Darcy started, as he always did when his cousin Anne crept up on him.
She was like a ghost and had been since childhood, and he had never quite accustomed himself to it.
Of course, she lacked amusement in general, so he would not suspend any pleasure of hers, even if he could detect her—which he could not, so it was a moot point anyway.
“Hello, Anne. Thank you for joining our tête-à-tête without invitation.”
Anne naturally scoffed. “Avoiding the question, are we, cousin? When will you start acting like a man and make your addresses?”
Attempting to regain the upper hand, Darcy asked, “What makes you think I plan to propose?”
Naturally, that question earned two scoffs and two laughing cousins; Anne at least did not slap her knee like the colonel, though she considered it.
Feeling control slip away, Darcy blurted, “I just did.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam ‘s backslap nearly dislodged teeth, which would have been disconcerting enough, but Anne danced about the room like a ballerina, smiling and laughing.
It took several moments to calm them, and before Darcy could say anything, Anne asked, “So when can we wish you joy?”
Looking sheepish, Darcy said, “I do not know!”
Both cousins ceased their antics and asked in unison, “What do you mean, you do not know? Must you speak with her father? Does she need time for a less… ah… subtle… less… confusing courtship?”
“I have no answer.”
Anne smiled as if the sun had painted a rainbow in the middle of the room. “I knew I liked her! She is making you sweat a little, is she? Yes, she will do quite nicely! It might do you good to have that Darcy pride taken down a peg or two. When did she promise an answer?”
Both cousins stared at him most disconcertingly, and he finally sheepishly replied, “I have no idea.”
“Did she refuse you?” Fitzwilliam asked, shocked.
“No.”
“Did she speak of conditions you must meet?” Anne asked.
“No.”
The colonel scratched his head. “What exactly did she say?”
Darcy frowned at his boots. “Nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“Nothing!” He ran a hand through his already dishevelled hair and whispered, “Not a single word.”
His cousins’ confusion deepened, and he was forced to relate the entire humiliating experience.
When the tale was done, he looked to them for sympathy, but Anne simply rapped him sharply on the forehead with her knuckles—which hurt more than one would think—repeating, “Stupid, stupid, stupid man!”
He nodded glumly. “You are correct. I am an abominably stupid man, but I love her. I will not give up easily, though my pride and stupidity may have been my downfall.”
“Naturally we will not,” Fitzwilliam said. “I assume your trunks are being packed as we speak?”
“You assume correctly.”
“Why are you still here?”
Darcy wondered at his cousin’s lack of common sense. “Do you suppose Mrs Collins will be sanguine about her guest disappearing during tea?”
Fitzwilliam shuddered. “True. You must speak to her.”
“I was hoping you would.”
“Not on your life. I am afraid of her.”
Darcy raised an eyebrow.
“I know you are in a panic, William,” Anne said, “but you cannot leave today or tomorrow.”
“Why not?”
She rapped his head again. “Think about it, lunkhead. Fitzwilliam Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet mysteriously disappear from Rosings within hours of each other! You may as well abduct her to Gretna Green. The effect would be the same, except instead of only disliking you, she will hate you until five years after the end of time.”
The thought had not occurred to him and he sheepishly nodded.
She took his arm gently. “Go change quickly and return to tea before Mother throws a fit. I will speak with Mrs Collins then hire an express rider to thunder up with a note claiming urgent business. We leave the day after tomorrow. That will separate our departure from hers and give us a day to arrange matters. I daresay Mrs Collins can manage her husband and my mother if we give her the means. She is twice as clever as the two of you combined.”
“Not much of a boast,” the colonel grumbled.
“What do you mean, ‘we”?” Darcy asked.
“Truly, William, I wonder if you understand the King’s English. No wonder you scared poor Miss Bennet away! ‘We’ means you and me, and I suppose your counterpart.”
Darcy shook his head in confusion. “Very well, but you might expect wedding clothes in your chamber. It will be difficult to explain you are not engaged when you return.”
“Who said I would not be engaged? You are not the only man in the world, Fitzwilliam Darcy—merely the silliest… and most besotted.”
She reached up and passed her hand across his cheek in a cousinly caress, which, given the circumstances, was an improvement over rapping his forehead with her knuckles again.