Chapter 13
Miss Elizabeth Bennet in Hertfordshire
Leaving Darcy at Netherfield as Peters saw her home, Elizabeth’s unease knew no bounds.
Had she left him in a lion’s den? Darcy did not want to really believe Bingley might be involved–that he might be the man behind all of their troubles–yet, Lightcliffe had thought so.
Aldry too, though he had been diplomatic in his assertions.
Peters proved difficult to read, another sign that her claim of being able to ‘sketch a character in but an hour’ would always be absurd at best. Though, no matter if Peters agreed or disagreed, the evidence certainly directed nearly everyone toward Bingley–herself included.
If only Darcy would take the possibility seriously, she might be marginally more at ease. Marginally being key, for even if he were on guard around Bingley, remaining under the same roof held far greater danger than not.
Should she find a way to get Darcy, Peters, and Aldry into their home too? Or into the home of other friends?
Rubbing her brow she frowned, Sleep would not come easy until Darcy was away from Netherfield, and those responsible were made to face the law.
“Aldry is with him, you know,” Peters remarked as they neared Lucas Lodge, the silence of their walk broken at long last.
“What?” Elizabeth questioned as her stride became uneven, Peters’ smile growing as he observed her.
“Darcy will be alright. He may wish to think the best of Bingley, but he will be cautious… he is a man of facts, and the facts thus far speak of the need to be wary.”
“True, but caution alone provides little protection when residing under the same roof as the danger itself. Even with you, Aldry, and Darcy watching out for one another, if Bingley is involved, there can be no guarantees.”
“No guarantees… though a great deal better odds,” he remarked.
Heads turning at the voice of Charlotte Lucas, Elizabeth worked away any signs of worry from her features, though not soon enough to avoid the watchful eye of her friend, “Lizzy, whatever is the matter?”
“It is… complicated,” she sighed. Hand extending to the man beside her she altered topics, “Mr. Simon Peters, Miss Charlotte Lucas, consider this your dismal introduction to one another.”
Dipping lightly, Charlotte smiled in Mr. Peters’ direction, her gaze curious as she observed his form.
“Miss Lucas,” Peters acknowledged with a bow, his face brightening at the sight of her.
“It is a delight to meet you; would you happen to be heading in the direction of Longbourn? I am seeing Miss Elizabeth there, and as I have heard you two are close friends, I have no doubt she would enjoy your company almost as much as I.”
Trying not to gape at Mr. Peters, whom she had never heard talk at such lengths or with such animation before, Elizabeth nodded her approval, “Of course, we would be happy if you were to come.”
“Allow me a moment to collect my bonnet and I would happily join you, Mr. Peters,” a slight rosiness to Charlotte’s cheeks as she turned toward Lucas Lodge.
Within two minutes she returned to them, a bonnet upon her head, gloves upon her fingers, and a broth in one hand for Lord Lightcliffe, Mrs. Lucas having already heard of his mishap.
“Allow me, Miss Lucas,” Peters said as he removed the small vessel from Charlotte before holding his arm out for her; his gesture accepted with pleasure by the young lady.
Perhaps the next wedding shall not be Jane’s after all, Elizabeth smiled softly as she allowed them to walk a few feet before her, the pair chatting away as a long-married couple, though their glances belied this in the ready signs of newfound attraction.
Jane, she worried as Longbourn became visible in the distance, her thoughts taking a less pleasing turn to the possible duplicity of Bingley.
Even if her affections were readily shifting to Lightcliffe, she still ought to be warned of Bingley.
As unfair as it might be to label him villain, a greater crime would be to allow Jane’s heart to be endangered… or worse.
Nearing the entrance, Elizabeth at last let her steps direct her to the side of her friend, the pair reddening as they were reminded of her presence.
“Would either of you care to come inside?” Elizabeth asked.
“Well, umm, actually, Lizzy,” Charlotte hesitated, “I had thought of running an errand for my mother this afternoon. Seeing as I am out walking, now seems an excellent time to do so.”
“Naturally,” Elizabeth answered, her smirk as poorly hidden as her friend’s hope she would not journey alone.
“Then I will join you, Miss Lucas,” Peters announced as he handed the broth to Elizabeth. “Miss Elizabeth has mentioned that you know of events–I should not be able to rest knowing you were out walking alone when such danger lurks. Besides, we might continue our conversation, if you are amiable.”
Accepting his offer with all alacrity, Charlotte waited with Peters until Elizabeth stood safely at Longbourn’s doors before proceeding down the lane, the pair once again oblivious to the possibility of prying eyes.
With a shake of her head and a smile, Elizabeth passed through the door, contentment for her friend allowing a welcome moment of relief before she would tell her sister and Lightcliffe all.
∞∞∞
The following morning, having tossed and turned most of the night, Elizabeth readied herself as soon as might be, hopeful that, in spite of it being some hours before Darcy was to collect her, he might appear across the field or down the lane.
Of course, such visions were not to be realized, the day too early for him to have called, even were he to have ‘news’ of Mary’s journey toward recovery–their lie becoming less and less believed with each passing day.
Fingering the cold glass as she sat by the drawing room window, Elizabeth sighed.
Thankfully, relaying the possibility of Bingley being dishonourable the night prior had been met with surprise, though not alarm or heartache, Jane’s affections apparently having shifted with each moment in Bingley’s company–the arrival of Lord Lightcliffe having advanced that shift at a greater speed than might otherwise have been realized.
Still, Jane’s delicate heart had been rightfully dismayed that he, or indeed anyone of their acquaintance, might have secrets as dark as that.
“Lizzy,” Mr. Bennet’s voice penetrated her woolgathering. “Such a dour expression you wear today, I know what you said regarding Bingley is a distressing possibility, yet, I had thought with the addition of our houseguest you would be more at ease.”
Turning her back to the window, she nodded, “I am… for us, yet what of Mr. Aldry, or Mr. Peters…”
“Or Mr. Darcy?” he completed for her, a wistful smile upon his face.
“I have seen the way you look at him, I recognize the shift in your tone when you mention his name, and I have noted his equal regard for you. Do not look so concerned, I have every intention of offering my blessing when you both ask me for it–this wretched business likely delaying such matters–you only find me reminiscing. The years I have had you here have been a blessing and brought with them great joy, yet, as loath as I am to see you moved so far away, I am content in knowing you will be happy and safe…” clearing his throat as his eyes turned glassy, he quickly teased, “and that you will have an impressive library. That will be a fine thing when you have your family to stay, though I fear you may only see me in that one room.”
Her own eyes moistening she shook her head, “I do not even know if he feels the same, Papa. That he cares for me is clear, but is it enough to ask for the hand of a woman without fortune or connection? I hope, even pray for that, but with all this worry and trouble, I cannot allow myself to expect or fully believe it to be possible until I hear the words from his lips. Disappointment on top of everything else would press me beyond what I can bear.”
A single arm wrapped over her shoulders, he patted her and assured, “The man is in love with you… allow this period of trial to pass and I know he will show it.”
Kissing her hair as he turned to leave, her father returned to his study for another day of quiet.
Though his general inaction regarding Mary’s disappearance had allowed her to see him with new eyes, such tender affections from him were a clear reminder that, in spite of his faults, he loved her, and hopefully he loved each of her sisters in equal measure.
∞∞∞
Heart leaping as she observed Darcy making his way toward Longbourn’s entrance, Elizabeth raced toward the door, propriety laid to waste as she threw it open to reveal Darcy poised to knock.
“Elizabeth,” he said, his eyes brightening at the sight of her before narrowing as he glanced past, “Is something wrong?”
Shaking her head, she allowed him to enter, the unusual behavior she had displayed bringing a warm rise to her cheeks. “Here,” she remarked as she directed him to a chair, “rest yourself for a minute while I let someone know I am leaving.”
Quickly making her way to her father’s study, she announced she was off, his wry grin at her expense ignored as she obtained her bonnet and gloves then returned to Darcy’s side. Papa might risk his expectations, but surely, she would not?
Standing at the sight of her, Darcy’s brows rose as she all but shoved him out the door and onto the road beyond, her worries at last easing as she felt his arm under her hand, the soft breeze causing the trees to rustle as they walked.
Yet, with a simple lift of her head such contentment soon fled, a troubled mien marring his features harkening every fear which had kept her awake much of the night.
“Darcy, is something wrong?” she asked, her voice sounding unfamiliar as worries took hold. “You appear troubled.”
“It,” he hesitated as he halted their steps, “that is, there is some unpleasant news. You see, Aldry went into Meryton before dawn to speak with a man in our employ… he was informed that, as of last evening, someone has made it known that Mary is not residing at Netherfield Park. No word of her kidnapping has formed, yet, I fear the rumours are worse than the truth.”
Mary? They would speak ill of Mary? Imagining what? Surely, given it was Mary and not Lydia or Kitty, they could not think her up to mischief; Mary would be the last to behave poorly. They had known gossip would not be kind, but… she had hoped.
What would this do to Mary’s future? To Jane’s, her sisters’, or, she nearly cried as she considered the man she had grown so fond of, her own. If she had thought Darcy offering marriage unlikely before due to the social chasm between them, how much more unlikely now.
“It shall be alright,” he assured her, his free hand laid firmly upon her own.
“I promise to do all in my power to make it so.” Motioning with his chin, he paused, “Still, given the rumours which shall be on your door any moment, ought we share this with your family? Allow them to brace themselves for what is to come?”
Nodding, she clung to his arm as he led her back, his assurances that he would not leave her providing some small strength for the wails of her mother soon to come.