CHAPTER FOUR
The Missing Gentleman
In London, Georgiana Darcy waited until nine o’clock before admitting she was frightened.
Her brother was never late without sending word. At ten, the housekeeper at Darcy House had sent a servant to Bingley’s residence.
Charles Bingley had arrived from an afternoon engagement and been surprised to learn that Darcy had not reached town. “Not reached town?” he repeated.
“But Caroline said he meant to ride.” Miss Bingley, who had been installed in her brother’s drawing room for less than three hours and already disliked the curtains, looked sharply at him.
“He may have stopped at an inn.”
“Darcy?” Bingley said. “Without sending word to his sister?”
Georgiana’s hands tightened in her lap.
Bingley noticed. “No, no. Of course he is perfectly well. There will be some ordinary explanation.”
“There generally is,” Georgiana said, though she did not believe it.
At midnight a rider was sent back toward Hertfordshire.
By morning there was still no news. Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam arrived at Darcy House shortly after breakfast because Georgiana’s note had contained only nine words: Fitzwilliam has not come home. No one knows why.
Richard read it once and left his coffee untouched. He entered his cousin’s house in cavalry boots, carrying his gloves and a temper. “Where was he last seen?”
“At Netherfield,” Georgiana said. “He meant to ride to London.”
“Alone?”
“Yes.”
Richard swore under his breath.
“Richard.”
“Forgive me.” He kissed the top of her head. “I am swearing at your brother, not in your hearing.”
“That seems a distinction without a difference.”
He gave her a quick grin. “There is the Darcy wit. Good. Keep it. I shall bring the idiot home.”
Within an hour Colonel Fitzwilliam had two men with him and was riding north.
They stopped at posting inns, asked after a tall dark gentleman on a bay horse, and learned very little.
One ostler remembered him. Another thought he had seen a gentleman of that description.
A farmer insisted a bay horse had galloped loose across a field near Meryton the previous morning but could not say where it went.
That was enough to turn Richard cold.
They reached Meryton near noon. The town was busy with Saturday trade. Carts clogged the main street. Women stood before the butcher’s. Two militia officers crossed toward the inn. Richard dismounted before the Red Lion to ask for news.
He had not yet spoken when he heard a woman at the pump say, “—at Longbourn, poor gentleman, with his leg broken something dreadful, and Miss Lizzy found him herself.”
Richard turned. “What gentleman?”
The woman stared at his uniform. “Mr. Darcy, sir.”
Richard had one boot back in the stirrup before she finished the name. Longbourn was easy to find. Everyone knew where the Bennets lived. The house appeared modest to Richard’s eye but well kept, set among trees with a sweep of lawn gone russet under November.
A maid opened the door before he had properly dismounted. “I am Colonel Fitzwilliam. Mr. Darcy is my cousin.”
Her expression transformed with relief. “Oh, sir! Mr. Bennet said family must be found. Please come in.”
He was shown into a drawing room full of women.
Mrs. Bennet rose first. “You are Mr. Darcy’s cousin? Oh! Thank heaven. We have been in such anxiety. He has a fever and the doctor says he must not be moved, not an inch, and poor Lizzy—”
“Mama,” said a young woman with dark eyes.
Richard knew immediately which one was Elizabeth. Darcy had never described her. That fact became astonishing the moment Richard saw her. There was intelligence in her face before beauty, though the beauty was considerable. More importantly, there was strain beneath the composure.
Richard bowed. “Miss Bennet?”
“The eldest Miss Bennet,” said the fair-haired woman beside her. “I am Jane. This is my sister Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth curtsied.
“You found him?” Richard asked.
“Yes.”
“Then I owe you more than I can say.”
Her expression softened. “You owe me nothing, Colonel. Anyone would have helped.”
“No. Many people intend to be useful. You were.”
Mr. Bennet entered behind him. “Colonel Fitzwilliam, I presume. I am Bennet. Your cousin has caused my household more activity in two days than my five daughters ordinarily manage in a week, which is no small accomplishment.”
Richard liked him immediately. “I apologize on Darcy’s behalf.”
“You may save it. If he survives, I shall charge him rent.”
Mrs. Bennet gasped. “Mr. Bennet!”
“He has ten thousand a year, my dear. We should not neglect an opportunity.” Richard almost laughed, then remembered why he had come.
“How bad is it?”
Mr. Bennet’s humour vanished. “Come upstairs.”
Darcy scarcely looked like himself. His hair was damp with sweat, his face flushed, his lips moving around words that made no sense. The injured leg was elevated and heavily bandaged. Dr. Garrison sat by the fire writing notes.
Richard stopped at the bedside. “Damn you, Darcy.”
Darcy’s eyelids fluttered. “Richard?”
“I have ridden half the way to Scotland looking for you.”
“Wrong direction.”
Richard closed his eyes briefly in relief. “If you can be insulting, you are not dead.”
Darcy frowned. “Elizabeth.”
Richard glanced at the doctor.
“He has asked for her frequently,” Dr. Garrison said. “Miss Elizabeth has a calming effect.”
Darcy’s hand moved restlessly on the coverlet. “Where is she?”
“Downstairs.”
“Tell her.”
“Tell her what?”
Darcy looked annoyed by the question. “We are engaged.”
Richard stared at him. “Engaged.”
“Yes.”
“To Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”
Darcy gave him the look normally reserved for people who had made arithmetic errors in estate accounts. “How many Elizabeths are there?”
Richard sat down very slowly.
Dr. Garrison’s pen paused.
Darcy’s eyes closed again. “I love her,” he murmured. “Do not let Caroline talk to her.”
Richard bit the inside of his cheek. “An excellent precaution.”
“She said yes.”
“Did she?”
“In the lane.”
Darcy drifted away.
Richard looked at Dr. Garrison. “Has he been saying this since the accident?”
“Repeatedly.”
“Has the young lady confirmed it?”
“I am a physician, Colonel, not a gossip.”
“That means yes.”
“It means I have no intention of answering.” Richard laughed once under his breath and rubbed a hand over his face.
Then he became serious. “My parents must know. Our family physician as well.”
Dr. Garrison nodded. “Send him. I am competent, Colonel, but if Mr. Darcy’s own physician knows his constitution, I welcome consultation. “
Richard found paper in Mr. Bennet’s study and wrote two letters. The first went to Darcy House for Georgiana. The second went to Matlock House.
Darcy found in Hertfordshire after riding accident.
Compound fracture of lower leg. Fever considerable.
Cannot be moved. I am with him at Longbourn, home of Mr. Bennet.
Send Dr. Morrison immediately. There is also, apparently, an engagement to Miss Elizabeth Bennet.
Darcy has declared it repeatedly and with astonishing determination.
I will explain when I understand it myself.
Richard sanded the letter, folded it, and sealed it. Mr. Bennet, standing by the window, said mildly, “You may wish to delay the sentence regarding the engagement.”
Richard looked at him.
Mr. Bennet sighed. “I feared as much.”