Chapter Nine #3
Darcy was as astonished by his words as his companions appeared to be.
And yet, it was a fine idea. There was perhaps a modicum of merit in Richard’s notion of arousing a little envy in Anne, and standing up with a beautiful woman would certainly assuage his own dismay when Anne inevitably danced the first with Sir Sidney.
Miss Bennet blushed very prettily as she accepted and began to fidget with a bundle of books she held in her lap. Darcy suspected he knew the answer, but to dispel the awkwardness he asked, “What have you there?”
“I am bringing all my novels by Mrs. Bevan for her to sign. I have wished to invite her for tea and ask her more privately for such a favor, but my uncle does not allow guests of the hotel at our private home. How fortunate that you are all not actually guests of the hotel, but of the cottage, which has proved in yet another way exceptional.”
Georgiana nodded her agreement. “Indeed it is, and what a relief that there was no room at the hotel, for I intend to visit every day!”
“You say that now, but you will soon defect when the Bingleys arrive, which will be in less than a fortnight. They have rented the very finest townhouse on Grand Avenue—the one you pointed out when we were walking along the beach.”
“The yellow one with the darling gazebo overlooking the water?”
“The very one. I confess to some little wickedness in offering you the cottage, for I feared that in suggesting you let a house, you might have selected the one I wanted Lady Denham to save for Jane and Charles.”
Darcy took a step closer to the fountain. “The Bingleys are coming to Sanditon? I suppose you have a more faithful correspondent in the Missus than I have in the Mister.”
Miss Bennet smiled at Darcy once again. “I shall give you the credit of being too much a gentleman to deny me the satisfaction of making such an announcement, even if you were as well-informed as I am. But it is little wonder—I believe that most ladies are better correspondents than their male counterparts.”
Georgiana gasped. “Oh no, Lizzy—our first disagreement! I cannot share your view, for I know my brother places perhaps too much faith in his own correspondence.”
“Quite right.” Richard agreed.
Darcy paced, knowing they were baiting him. “Despite the heavy praise from my relations, I cannot imagine any means of declaring my earnest regard for a well-written letter without sounding hopelessly stodgy.”
“But Lizzy, you must know some gentlemen to be capable of corresponding, for I saw you trying to hide a packet of letters on the night I stayed with you.” Georgiana clamped a hand over her mouth at her careless comment, and Miss Bennet turned a violent shade of scarlet.
It was then that Larkins finally arrived with the phaeton, a groom leading two very fine horses behind the equipage. “Well, we had best be off, then,” Miss Bennet said briskly. “It is beginning to cloud over, and but we may yet arrive before it begins to rain.”
“It cannot rain,” Georgiana insisted. “There is some blue sky in the west—we shall have to chase it.”
They set off on the gravelly road that led westward along the cliffs.
Darcy and Richard rode behind the phaeton to allow the ladies an unobstructed view, which was a very fine one, despite all the mud that Darcy had feared.
It was no more than ten minutes before Sanditon House came into view, a small but stately manor about half the size of Netherfield.
A bend in the road brought a wide expanse of thick mud into view, obstructing their approach to the manor.
There were deep ruts in the grass along the side of the road; Darcy hoped his sister would see them, and swerve around the mud as the other carriages before them must have done.
He heard feminine laughter from the phaeton ahead and called out to them, advising his sister to bear toward the right, but instead she drove straight through the large muddy patch.
His heart sank into his stomach at the loud crack. One of the wheels broke as the phaeton became stuck, its seating lurching precariously to one side. Georgiana and Miss Bennet tumbled into one another as they clung to the seat, trying not to tumble down into the mud several feet below them.
Darcy was off his horse in an instant. He ran to their aid and was a few paces away from the phaeton when the ground beneath his feet dropped sharply, the mud so deep he slid and landed on his backside with an indecorous squelch. Richard edged his own horse closer, howling with laughter.
Still clinging to one another in the precariously positioned seat of the phaeton, Georgiana and Miss Bennet called out their assurances that they were unharmed.
Darcy fumbled for his footing but was unable to extricate himself from the muck without accidentally kicking at the broken wheel, causing the phaeton to shift again.
Georgiana squealed; Miss Bennet actually tumbled out of the equipage.
She landed with her legs in the mud and the rest of her body in Darcy’s lap, and burst into riotous laughter. “I beg your finest pardon, sir.”
Darcy managed to sit up and looked down at Miss Bennet who had managed to smear mud across her face despite landing on her back.
He reflexively cradled her in his arms. For a moment he could only look down at her in wonder, at the fullness of her bosom and the wildness of her blowsy hair—and the beguiling amusement in her mud-spattered countenance.
She was exquisite, and he was mortified. “Are you hurt?”
She tried to sit up, and Darcy gently helped her acclimate herself.
She gave every part of herself a wiggle as if to determine whether she had been injured, and then winced.
“My ankle—I think I struck a stone that was buried beneath the mud. Oh dear, and my books are all ruined. They landed on my leg, it is sure to bruise.” She tugged at her skirts, smearing mud once more as she searched for the injury in question.
Her stocking was torn away in one small area, revealing a jagged cut just above the top of her ankle boot.
“Can you move it?”
She turned her foot to the right, then to the left, and cried out sharply. As she recoiled, she brought a hand behind herself, clutching at her lower back. “I think I landed directly atop your knee.”
By now, Richard had maneuvered his horse carefully through the mud and gotten close enough to the phaeton to lift Georgiana out of harm’s way without either of them dirtying themselves.
“Oh Lizzy, I am so sorry! Can you ever forgive me? I did not mean to hurt you!”
Miss Bennet smiled bravely at Georgiana. “I know, dearest—I am not cross with you. Indeed, it is a very fortuitous place to have such an accident, for Charlotte shall dote and fuss until I am right as rain.”
“Speaking of….” Darcy groaned. Grey clouds had begun to gather, and he felt the first droplets of rain on his face. “We ought to get indoors before we all catch cold.”
Darcy shambled to his feet and then extended his hands down to Miss Bennet, helping her to her feet.
He clasped her hands in his as she slowly hopped forward, shifting her weight from the injured ankle.
After a few steps she stumbled into him, the mud of her dress transferring onto the front of his clothing.
He instinctively wrapped his arms around her and she grasped at his shoulders, her face again turning a most becoming shade of pink.
“Sorry,” she murmured, averting her gaze.
“My apologies,” Darcy said at the same moment. He took a slight step back, his hands bracing her arms. “Let me help you up onto my horse. We are nearly there.”
“No!” The color drained from her face and she looked at him in wide-eyed horror. “I was not exaggerating my fear of horses—if anything, I understated the matter. I am sure I can manage on foot.”
“You are injured. I could not possibly allow it.” As if to emphasize his point, the rain began to fall faster.
“Do let him help you, Miss Bennet,” Richard said. “We will ride on to the manor and let them know to prepare a hot bath for you, and whatever else you require.”
“Georgie can take my horse,” Darcy said, still holding onto Miss Bennet for support. “If Miss Bennet will not ride, I shall carry her.”
“That is not necessary. If you will hold onto one of my arms, I shall be able to walk the rest of the way to the house.” Miss Bennet shifted in his arms, glancing over at her ruined books with a heavy sigh.
Richard maneuvered his horse toward Darcy’s and took the reins in hand, bearing Georgiana in his arms as he steered both animals onward to the manor.
Darcy watched them go before attempting to guide Miss Bennet, but it was no use.
She could only take small, uneven steps, and wobbled a great deal.
At this rate, the rain would drench them completely before they reached their destination.
Without another word, Darcy simply scooped her up and began talking wide strides forward, rather enjoying the feel of her in his arms.
“Mr. Darcy!”
“Miss Bennet, I do not lightly request the opening set of any dance. Having done so not a half hour ago, I cannot bear the indignity of my partner being unable to stand up with me.”
She laughed, her damp hair falling loose against his chest. Her grey eyes darkened as the sun slipped fully behind the rain clouds, and the skies opened up at last. Rain fell over them in a heavy sheet, and Miss Bennet gave a little squeal at the chill of it.
She nuzzled into him, undoubtedly for the warmth, and Darcy fixed his gaze at the manor ahead, but his heart and mind had begun to run wild.
“You smell nice.”
“Pardon?” Darcy willed himself not to glance down at her again.
“I—I said I shall need some ice. For my ankle.”
“I am certain Lady Parker shall prove eminently resourceful.”
“This is heavy praise, sir.”
“Well, you do have excellent taste in friends.” He could feel the rumbling of laughter in her body as he drew her closer into his chest.