Mr. Darcy's Refuge (10 page)

“I have had many words both
of
him and
from
him,” she said. “I believe he is coming down the stairs now.”

“He is here?” He hurried toward the door just as Darcy appeared in it, wearing Mr. Collins’s ill-fitting but dry housecoat. To Elizabeth’s surprise, the colonel embraced him. “Darcy, thank God. We thought you had been carried off in the flood.”

Darcy appeared taken aback. “Why would you think such a thing?”

“You disappeared without a word from dinner and never returned, and then we discovered you had taken your horse out just before the river spilled its banks. What on earth were we to think? But I am glad you thought to take shelter here.” He stepped back, as if suddenly remembering Elizabeth’s presence. “You cannot have been alone here all this time.”

Elizabeth laughed. “Alone? Hardly. We have been well chaperoned by Sally, Cook, and a little girl with a broken leg, not to mention fifty or so villagers who took refuge here from the flood. And here is Sally now with a pot of hot tea. May I pour you a cup?”

***

The morning newspapers arrived as usual in Meryton on the early coach. Mrs. Long, who always read the page dedicated to intelligence of the
ton
over a cup of tea, appeared at Mrs. Phillips’ door a scant half hour later with the offending paper in hand. After that lady made a shocked perusal, it was decided that this called for an immediate visit to Mrs. Bennet.

Mrs. Bennet was not in the habit of rising with the larks. She was firmly of the opinion that any event so discourteous as to occur before noontime was not worthy of her attention. As a result, she was still in her bedclothes when Mrs. Phillips and Mrs. Long arrived at Longbourn. However, the ladies were determined, and having convinced Miss Mary Bennet through their high distress and furious looks that the apocalypse must be at hand, Mrs. Phillips claimed a sister’s privilege and breached the final defense of Mrs. Bennet’s bedroom door.

She carried the newspaper as her battle standard, shaking it in the air until she tossed it on Mrs. Bennet’s lap. “Well, sister, would you care to explain
this
?” she demanded.

Mrs. Bennet’s nervous complaints about her dishabille were ineffective in halting the approaching forces. “Whatever do you mean?” she said querulously.

Mrs. Phillips struck a pose and pointed dramatically at one particular item in the newspaper. Mrs. Bennet, who was more short-sighted than she cared to admit, had to hold it close to her face and squint to make out the fine print. On first comprehending it, she sat quite still, unable to utter a syllable, staring blankly at the bearers of such astonishing intelligence. The shock was such that she did the unthinkable and rose from her bed while the day could still be called young. Grasping the newspaper, she hurried downstairs, crying Mr. Bennet’s name as she went.

Mrs. Bennet’s nerves had been Mr. Bennet’s constant companions these many years, but in native self-defense, he had learned to tell the difference between her usual vapors and when she was in true distress. Her wild-eyed appearance in the door of his library suggested the latter. This did not, in fact, make him any more sympathetic to her, just more careful in watching for potential flying objects.

“Yes, Mrs. Bennet?” he said.

“Look! Look at this!” she cried, waving the newspaper in front of him so rapidly that it would have been impossible for him to read even the headlines.

“What, precisely, am I to look at?” he asked, prying the newspaper from her fingers.

“At that! Oh, Mr. Bennet!”

Since his wife had made no indication what
that
she was speaking of, Mr. Bennet glanced down the page. It is a truth universally acknowledged that no matter how many words might appear in a page of newsprint, one’s own name will somehow immediately spring out, and so it was with Mr. Bennet. He read, frowned, put on his spectacles and read again, and finally set down the newspaper with an extraordinary gentleness which indicated how much he wished to tear it into little pieces. Even a natural indolence as strong as his could not stand for an insult of this magnitude.

He placed his hands on his desk and rose slowly to his feet. “Mrs. Bennet, please be so kind as to instruct Hill to pack a bag for me immediately. I will be traveling to Rosings Park on the next post coach.”

Chapter 7

Colonel Fitzwilliam downed several cups of tea in rapid succession while sitting by the fire as Darcy related the various events of the last two days to him. “Today I had some of the men working to salvage what they could from their cottages, but then the water started to rise again. I had hoped that the river would be calm enough today that I could take Miss Bennet across to Rosings in a boat, but between the current and the detritus in the stream, it seemed unwise.”

Elizabeth, now past the relief of discovering that Darcy was unharmed, had returned to her annoyance at the risks he had taken. “More unwise than going into the river yourself without a rope?” she said with mock sweetness. “The water must have been quite deep at the mill.”

Darcy shot her a look out of the corner of his eye. “It was safe enough with the cottages breaking the current.”

The colonel cocked his head. “Why do I think that Miss Bennet might not agree? But I still do not see why you did not return to Rosings yesterday.”

“We had quite enough difficulty getting to Tunbridge Wells!” exclaimed Elizabeth.

The colonel pursed his lips. “You went with Darcy?”

“I could not leave her here alone.” Darcy’s tone brooked no argument.

“Not to diminish the importance of your efforts, cousin, but have you considered how it may appear to others?”

“There is very little to consider.” He cast a serious look at Elizabeth. “Whatever our wishes might be, the situation is quite damning, and has been ever since the villagers discovered us alone together.”

He could not possibly be suggesting… Could he? “I cannot agree,” said Elizabeth hotly. “The opinion of Lady Catherine’s tenants cannot possibly affect a part of society so wholly unconnected to it.”

“Not so unconnected,” said the colonel, “once they tell their family members in service at Rosings, who will spread the word to whomever they can. Lady Catherine’s servants may be well-disciplined, but they are not known for their loyalty. It is thoughtful of you, Miss Bennet, to attempt to avoid the entanglement. Many women in your position would take advantage of the situation. Still, the entanglement exists, and the question, Darcy, is what are you going to do about it?”

Darcy gritted his teeth. Trust Richard to get it precisely backward! “Richard, I appreciate your concern, but you do not fully understand the situation. I have matters well in hand.”

Richard frowned. “You are not the one who will suffer for it.”

Elizabeth rose to her feet in a swish of skirts. “Colonel Fitzwilliam, please allow me to assure you that your cousin has been a perfect gentleman. We have, as I said, not been alone, and therefore there is no reason to worry about my reputation. If you will excuse me, I will go tell Cook we will have one more for dinner.”

“Elizabeth,” Darcy said tiredly to her retreating back. “I wish that were true, but there have been times we have not been chaperoned. The maid was not with us when the villagers first arrived, and there is no one who could vouch for where either of us were last night.” And it was just as well there was not; having someone vouch that he had spent half the night in her room would not help at all.

She looked back over her shoulder, her eyes narrowing. “Indeed,” she said with great deliberation. “There is no one who could vouch that you were not in my bedroom last night. No one at all.” She did not have to add, ‘Not even you.’ She swept out of the room.

Richard let out a low whistle. “A perfect gentleman, eh?”

“Don’t start,” Darcy warned.

“I’m sorry, but you really do have to marry her, you know.”

“Of course I have to marry her!
I
am not the one you need to convince.”

Richard blinked in surprise. “Oh, come now. Don’t be ridiculous. Of course she’ll marry you.”

“Funny. That isn’t what
she
said.” Darcy massaged his temples. “She will have to, though, whether she likes it or not.”

“If she doesn’t want to marry you, what on earth were you doing in her room last night?

“Where did you get the idea I was in her room?”

The colonel gave him a level look. “If that is the way you wish to play it, all I can say is that I hope no one saw you. It will be bad enough that everyone will know that you were forced into the marriage without adding more fuel to the fire.”

“With luck, it will look as if we were already engaged. The announcement should have been in today’s newspaper, or tomorrow’s at latest.”

Richard raised his eyebrows. “How did you manage that?”

“I sent off a note yesterday to my secretary when I was in Tunbridge Wells.”

“You sent a note to London but you could not let us know you were alive?”

Darcy, unaccustomed to defending himself against his usually agreeable cousin, snapped, “I had no idea you were concerned, and I had enough to worry about without that! Richard, if you have nothing better to do than to criticize everything I say and do, I hope you will find your way back to Rosings quickly.”

The colonel bit back a reply and turned to stare into the fire. He should have known better than to challenge Darcy. Still, after two days of uncertainty as to whether Darcy was even alive, and then a long, uncomfortable ride today, it was hard to settle into his customary deference to his wealthy cousin. He could not afford to turn Darcy against him, but sometimes the bit chafed, all the more so when Darcy insisted on ignoring the rules of propriety that bound the rest of society. One of the chief arguments for finding an heiress to marry was that he would no longer have to bend his will to that of his wealthy relatives. Darcy was among the best of the lot, there was no doubt, but it would be better still to be independent.

At least Darcy seemed to accept that he had a responsibility to marry Miss Bennet. That was the crux of his anger, after all. He himself was accustomed to Darcy doing whatever he pleased, but it was another matter when a sweet and lovely girl like Miss Bennet was injured by his cousin’s heedless behavior. He wondered whether Darcy’s sudden concern with the niceties of when the engagement was announced actually had to do with concern for Miss Bennet’s sensibilities or whether it was simply to avoid any hint of scandal that might reflect on Georgiana in her upcoming first Season.

Richard seized on the question as a safer topic, not to mention one which did not cause him pain. “Has Miss Bennet been presented at Court? You can hardly marry a woman who has not been presented.”

“Not yet, but she will have to be. That is another difficulty – I will have to find someone to sponsor her.”

“Is there anyone in her family who could do it?”

Darcy made a scornful sound. “God forbid. That is the last thing I would wish for. No, I will have to find someone. Lady Catherine is hardly likely to agree to take on that particular task. One of my cousins might be brought up to scratch.”