Chapter 11 #2
“I had thought that man’s hand on my face horrid,” Elizabeth shuddered as her eyes fixed to the paper, “having them come to our home–to where my family is–and then having to dispose of that bloodied watch before Mamma returned was infinitely worse. What if it had been her or one of our sisters who had found it?”
Eyes widening and then narrowing at her words, Darcy’s breath came faster. He had known something more had happened on the road than she had claimed… He. They had.
Whirling toward Netherfield, Darcy began to calculate every asset he had.
The price of Darcy House in London and his savings would more than suffice, but a sale would take far too long.
He had almost seventy-thousand in the five percents, still, that left him twenty shy.
If only he had not invested fifteen-thousand near the start of the year into that blasted glassworks factory–true, it earned considerable, but he could not retrieve the sum entire.
No. For all his assets–two houses, forty-five tenant homes, animals, carriages, belongings–raising twenty-thousand without more time would prove next to impossible.
Even the grand jewels his mother had set aside for the future mistress of Pemberley were locked away in Derbyshire.
Were he to have a buyer immediately, the time-frame would be dear indeed.
“Darcy,” Elizabeth hurried, her racing footfalls behind him causing him to still.
“I know what you are planning to do, but even you, with all your wealth, cannot expect to pay such a ridiculous sum. Money is nothing compared to the lives of our family, but only a madman would ask for sixty-thousand, let alone the ninety he raised it to! Either we buy him off with less or we do what we have been doing, discover who is behind all this before it is too late.”
Shoulders lowering, Darcy groaned, a lifetime filled with the ability to right almost every situation and unable to affect change now? Not for him. Or Elizabeth. Or his family.
A hand laid upon his arm, his eyes met hers, the confidence in her expression warming him. “We can do this,” she urged him, “you can do this. I have no doubts… and never could.”
Squeezing her fingers, a soft smile formed on the faces of both, hope rising in Darcy though he had only moments before resolved against it.
When their families were safe once again, he would risk his heart and press his suit.
Though please, he prayed silently, let it prove successful. Let this hope not be in vain.
∞∞∞
One day later, with Mr. Bennet consulted, a plan was contrived to have Lord Lightcliffe installed at Longbourn.
An unaccountable slip on their front steps, a thankfully obliging Mrs. Bennet eager for a single gentleman of fortune and rank to linger, and Lightcliffe’s new residence while away from London would be as they had desired.
However much he might have wished himself to play the part rather than Lightcliffe, Mrs. Bennet’s persisting rancor in regards to Darcy would permit no such outcome, for, as Elizabeth had admitted sheepishly, her mother would have carried him to Netherfield herself if it meant being rid of ‘that proud Mr. Darcy.’
Thus, Darcy had agreed to Lightcliffe’s presence at Longbourn, the protection of a man with full knowledge of the situation and greater physical capability than Mr. Bennet necessary to assure the family remained safe.
Still, Darcy could not deny his envy of Lightcliffe’s new lodgings–being able to be in the presence of the woman he fancied from sunrise to sunset.
“Oh, Lord Lightcliffe,” Mrs. Bennet fluttered about, several pillows and a stout warm broth pressed upon the gentleman as he rested on the settee. “Are you certain you require nothing else?”
“Nothing, save the company of yourself and your wonderful daughter Jane,” he assured her politely, her eyes wide as she listened, “a balm with which no earthly salve could compare.”
“Jane,” she rushed, pushing her daughter onto the stool beside Lightcliffe, “do sit. Lizzy. You must see the gentlemen home and have Lord Lightcliffe’s things sent here immediately.”
Nodding, Elizabeth acquiesced, her eyes dancing as she moved to obey her mother.
Darcy and the two other gentlemen taking their leave in turn, Mrs. Bennet’s departing words were polite if not of unusual brevity as she turned her attention back to Lightcliffe. The man, though less eager for the mother’s attention, beaming at the eldest Miss Bennet’s presence.
Arm offered to Elizabeth as soon as they were out the door, Darcy reveled at the feel of her hand upon his forearm, the boyish smirks of their companions ignored as they walked along. No amount of teasing could dampen his enjoyment.
Outpacing them in a thrice, Aldry and Peters kept a steady stride, though careful never to leave the two unattended. Thus, as the autumn day proved unusually fine, Darcy eased their pace in the hope of savoring his time with Elizabeth.
“I believe your father’s suggestion was a full success,” he noted, his lips curling as he recalled Mrs. Bennet’s reaction.
“It was,” she answered, a raised brow aimed at him.
“I only hope you do not intend suggestions of my mother being naught but a means to entrap a suitor for Jane. She does wish us all to be married, and well, given we none of us have any fortune to speak of, yet, I do believe she desires us to be happy. Were Jane to display a preference for Mr. Bingley over Lord Lightcliffe once this is all over, I am certain Mamma would accept it–she might favour Lightcliffe over Bingley, but once Jane chose, it would be settled.”
“Forgive me,” he hurried. “I shamefully admit amusement at how Lightcliffe’s flattery had the desired effect, but no. I have no doubt as to your mother’s love for her children. I have learnt my lesson and know better than to suspect your mother of preparing compromises.”
Shaking her head, Elizabeth laughed, “Your early view of myself and my mother has made me wary… I apologize, though being amused as you were is indeed shameful, for only family might be. And even then, we all must be mindful in that regard–I most of all, for I dearly love to laugh.”
A flattering flush forming on her face, Elizabeth looked away, Darcy’s chest pounding as he considered her words. Only family? Had she the same thought as he, that one day he might be family? That she might love him? If not now, then in time?
Lifting his head at the sound of hooves pounding upon the cold ground, Darcy’s brows lifted as he observed Bingley’s disheveled appearance, the other men rushing to join them.
Panting, Bingley leaned over his horse’s neck, the lathered animal snorting and dancing in place.
“Darcy. I found you…” fingers moving to a patch of blood on his arm, he winced, “I was riding from Meryton over the fields when I was attacked! I could not see who it was, but a shot rang out and I, by whatever luck, found myself with only a flesh wound. My horse, unfortunately, would not slow until he was near spent.”
Cautious, Aldry shifted around the agitated animal before reaching up to Bingley’s arm, his face contorted as he examined the wound. “You say you were riding when you were shot? Where was that?”
Gripping the reins as his horse shifted beneath him, Bingley shook his head as Aldry backed away. “Nearer Meryton than not… by that patch of woods to the right. I fear the perpetrators are long gone.”
With a nod, Aldry stared intently at Bingley, “I suspect so. You must be weary after your ordeal; ought we fetch someone to Netherfield for you?”
“No need,” Bingley answered unevenly. “Thankfully they were a poor shot. Though I shall see my way back to Netherfield–what with my arm and all, I must look a sight.” Regarding the group, he frowned, “Where is Lightcliffe?”
“Longbourn,” Darcy answered, the odd behavior of Bingley and Aldry unsettling. “He is to stay there for the present; given the dangers that are lurking, having him there to protect the ladies was deemed sound.”
“Naturally. I am certain he is up to the challenge,” Bingley answered as he turned his horse around. “See you at Netherfield!”
Nudging his mount forward, Bingley pushed the horse beyond the nearby rise, everyone moving closer to Aldry.
“What was that?” Elizabeth asked, her eyes fixed on Aldry. “I have never seen Mr. Bingley so out of sorts–though I suppose being shot would unnerve anyone. You, however, I am certain you saw something.”
Rubbing his jaw, Aldry turned his gaze in the direction of Netherfield, “Powder burns.”
“He was shot as close as that? No one could get near enough with him on horseback,” Mr. Peters remarked.
“Indeed. Bingley would have had to have been on foot,” Aldry answered sourly, his good humour spent.
Heart pounding, Darcy turned toward Aldry, “You are certain? There is no mistaking it?”
“I am certain.”
Aldry’s tone held a weight Darcy could not ignore. In some way. For some reason. Bingley had lied.
Yet, Bingley had been injured, Aldry would have said if there had been no wound.
“Why would a man shoot himself or have another do it?” Elizabeth asked. “Could he not have been on foot at the time, and, confused, mounted his horse and forgotten?”
Eyes wide, Darcy turned toward her. He had not considered that Bingley might injure himself in that way. That any man might, let alone his friend, made little sense. What would be the purpose?
“Anything is possible, Miss Elizabeth, but,” Peters interjected, “animals have been known to hurt themselves in a bid to escape; he may have forgotten as you suggest, or he may have sought to escape a lowering net.”
A sorrowful expression formed on Elizabeth’s face as she looked upon him, Darcy sought to imagine some reason for Bingley’s mistake.
Elizabeth herself had brought up the notion of Bingley being confused after such a harrowing experience; that could still prove true.
And as to his less gregarious conduct? Well, any man might behave badly after being shot. It may all prove a mistake.
Yes. An error. Unless further evidence were brought than Lightcliffe’s opinion and this slight deviation in story, he would stand by Bingley.
Yet, as they continued to walk to Netherfield, a lingering unease in his assertion ate at him.
For what if he were wrong?