Chapter Twenty-Three
The moment James disappeared into the neighbouring passage, both teams began moving.
The footmen directed them towards a third path leading from the clearing by a shorter route, and the company hurried into it with very little concern for order.
Amelia remained between Jane and Lady Frances, but even she urged them to go faster, while Harriet's aunt could be heard calling her niece's name from somewhere beyond the outer hedge.
Elizabeth kept near the front beside Clara and Miss Drummond.
Behind them came the gentlemen, their voices rising whenever the distant noise from the lawn grew louder.
The path twisted twice before beginning to widen, and through the yew Elizabeth caught brief flashes of sunlight and movement beyond.
A cheer rose from the spectators and everyone quickened their pace. "That sounded favourable," Clara said breathlessly.
"It sounded loud," Elizabeth replied. "I cannot yet say for whom."
Another roar sounded, stronger than the first. Elizabeth thought she heard Harriet's name within it, followed almost at once by a shout for Blackwood.
The path bent sharply, forcing the company into a narrower line.
Darcy moved ahead to hold back a low branch while Amelia passed beneath it, then remained beside Elizabeth as the others continued.
They emerged from the final turn almost together. Ahead, the passage opened onto the lawn, though the runners themselves were still hidden by the outer wall of the maze. The spectators stood beyond the ropes, all attention fixed upon two separate exits farther along the hedge.
Harriet appeared first.
She burst from the purple-marked opening with her hair streaming in the wind, her pins clearly having accepted defeat, and the silk band bright against her sleeve. A heartbeat later James Blackwood came through the second entrance, close enough that the cheering rose into a single deafening sound.
Both runners saw the white post at once.
Harriet gathered her skirts and drove forwards.
James's longer stride began to close the distance between them, but the lead she had gained within the maze held.
She reached the post scarcely half a pace before him, tore the crimson ribbon free and raised it above her head.
For a moment she appeared too astonished to understand what she had done.
Then the ladies' side of the lawn erupted.
Clara cried out, Miss Grey threw both hands into the air and Amelia nearly stepped upon her injured foot before Jane caught her.
Elizabeth laughed as the ladies surged towards Harriet, all attempts at composure abandoned.
The gentlemen were hardly silent. Colonel Fitzwilliam applauded at once, while Thomas Hadley gave a cheer every bit as loud as the ladies'. The Blackwood brothers descended upon James, congratulating him upon having come so near while taking evident pleasure in his defeat.
"Well run, Miss Harriet!" Henry called.
James bent forwards, his hands upon his knees as he recovered his breath. When Harriet looked towards him, still clutching the crimson ribbon, he straightened and bowed.
"Fairly won."
Harriet's face brightened. "Thank you."
Captain Fanshawe joined in the applause, and even Sir Geoffrey managed a stiff nod. Only Mr Ashcombe remained openly displeased and he was roundly ignored by the company.
Mr Pritchard stepped forwards once the noise had subsided enough for him to be heard. Harriet carried the ribbon to Lady Hortensia, who accepted it with shining eyes before beckoning Elizabeth and Darcy to stand beside her.
"The ladies have taken the final five points," she announced. "The Challenge therefore concludes at fifteen points to thirteen."
Another cheer followed. Most of the gentlemen accepted the result with bows, laughter and several promises of revenge should Lady Hortensia be persuaded to revive the contest again.
Colonel Fitzwilliam shook Elizabeth's hand with great ceremony, while Thomas Hadley declared that the gentlemen had been undone by superior planning and one exceptionally swift pair of feet.
Mr Ashcombe remained apart from the congratulations, but nobody appeared inclined to seek his opinion.
Darcy waited until the others had offered theirs before approaching her. Elizabeth attempted to adopt the gravity suitable to a captain receiving the surrender of her rival, but the effort was hopeless. "I believe you have lost, Mr Darcy," she said with a grin.
"So I have." He hesitated, then lowered his voice. "But must I continue to be Mr Darcy, even in defeat? Will you not call me Fitzwilliam?"
The request sent a small rush of warmth through her. "You bear your defeat with suspicious composure, Fitzwilliam."
"I had hoped to win," he said. "But I cannot object to being beaten fairly." His gaze moved briefly towards Harriet, who was recounting the final yards to an increasingly large audience, then returned to Elizabeth. "Your team deserved it."
The simplicity of the admission pleased her, and she smiled up at him. "Thank you."
He made no reply, but reached for her hands.
Elizabeth had grown accustomed to the gesture during their days at Chaffley Hall, yet there was something in the way he held them now that made her forget the noise around them and the many people who might observe.
Darcy enclosed her hands between his own and looked at her with an intensity that caught her breath.
His expression was not troubled exactly, but thoughtful, as though he had reached some private decision and was considering what must follow from it.
For several long seconds, he said nothing.
"Fitzwilliam?"
His fingers tightened briefly around hers. Then he seemed to recall where they were. He released her hands and stepped back.
"Forgive me. There is something I must attend to."
Before Elizabeth could ask what he meant, he bowed and turned towards the house.
She watched him cross the lawn and disappear through the open doors of Chaffley Hall.
A moment before, he had looked as though he intended to say something of great importance.
Now he was gone, and she could not imagine what had drawn him away.