Mr. Darcy's Refuge (13 page)

“I doubt I could ever become accustomed to rough brandy and ill-fitting clothes. I have developed a far greater appreciation for both my valet and my tailor in these last few days. I could not live like this.” Darcy swirled the brandy in his glass, more out of habit than any hope of a pleasant aroma. “In that way, I will be grateful to reach Rosings Park.” He would not mind, though, a delay of another day or two to accustom Elizabeth to his company before having to inform her of the announcement of their engagement.

“I plan to return there tomorrow by the same route I took here. Do you think Miss Bennet would be able to make the ride?”

Darcy’s body grew warm at the recollection of holding Elizabeth in his arms as they rode together, her curves resting against his thigh, but that was not what Richard meant. “An hour, perhaps two, on a good road would be the most one could ask of her. I expect with a few lessons she could be quite competent on horseback, but there is not even a decent sidesaddle here.”

“Not everyone is as fond of riding as you are.”

Somehow Richard’s comment sounded critical to Darcy’s ears. “I know that. It is a useful skill, that is all I meant.”

“When do you plan to tell her about the announcement?”

Darcy took a sip of the brandy, then swallowed it quickly as the sharp taste burned his tongue. “Tomorrow, I suppose. Before we return to Rosings, in any case. They may have seen it there.”

“If they have not, my father will have, and I wager he will be on the doorstep within two hours of reading it. Are you ready to face a united front from him and Lady Catherine?”

“I do not care what they say. Nothing will stop me from marrying her.”

Richard set down his brandy and straightened his shoulders. “There is one thing that might. I made her an offer of my own today.”

For a moment Darcy could not believe he had heard him correctly, then he half-rose from his chair as fear and betrayal churned through him. “How dare…. What did she say?”

“She asked for time to consider it. As for how I dared, well, I have as much right to pursue my own happiness as you do.”

Elizabeth had refused him point-blank, but she had not refused Richard. Elizabeth and Richard. Good God, anything but that! “It cannot be. The announcement has already been made.”

Richard shrugged. “It would be easy enough to explain as a misunderstanding. The name, you know – someone heard Fitzwilliam and thought of you, not me. No one would doubt it, especially with your history of avoiding entanglements.”

The sharp edges of the chair arms were biting into Darcy’s fingers as he clenched them tightly, almost as tightly as he had clenched his teeth to keep in the words that threatened to escape him, words that could never be taken back. Richard and Elizabeth. Richard holding Elizabeth in his arms. Richard kissing Elizabeth. His gorge rose. “Why? You never evinced any interest in marrying her until you heard I wanted to. Is that it? I would not have thought it of you,
cousin
.”

“Or do you mean that you would not have thought it possible that any woman might choose me over you?”

It was true enough, but Darcy was too far blinded with pain and anger to care. “You
knew
I was planning to marry her!”

“I also knew she did not seem happy with the arrangement, so I offered her a different option. This is not about you or me, Darcy. It is purely up to her.”

That was what frightened Darcy the most. “You may believe that if it gives you comfort. I thought I could trust you,” he bit out as he rose to his feet. He had to remove himself before he lost control completely.

Richard stood as well and grasped his arm as Darcy tried to pass him. “For God’s sake, stop and
think
for a minute! Think about
her
! You are entranced by her spirit. What do you think will happen to that spirit after she spends years listening to your insults about her family and living with your expectation that everyone will always fall in with your plans? I am accustomed to living in your shadow. You decide to stay at Rosings, so we stay at Rosings. You decide to leave, so we leave. You decide to marry Miss Bennet, so she has to marry you whether she likes it or not. It does not even occur to you that we may have wishes of our own. No, you are the Master of Pemberley. The world runs to your command. Well, Miss Bennet is not yours to command. Did you even try to woo her, or did you just assume she would be grateful for any attention you paid her? That she would not mind your comments about her family, or how you are degrading yourself with this connection? Do you even care what happens to her, as long as you get what you want?”

“You know her family is not the equal of ours!”

“Of course it isn’t, but
I
can acknowledge that to her without making her feel degraded and humiliated!”

Darcy stared down at Richard’s fingers gripping his arm, trying to fight back the urge to lash out with his fists. “Let me go,” he said icily.

Richard released him. “Just think about it, Darcy,” he said tiredly.

Darcy did not want to think about it. He strode out of the room and left the parsonage, slamming the front door closed behind him.

Chapter 8

Charlotte Collins was exhausted. She had been relieved initially when Colonel Fitzwilliam offered to find a way to check on Elizabeth, but she had not realized how difficult it would be to manage to keep the situation at Rosings from deteriorating into a disaster. The colonel had seemed to manage his aunt almost effortlessly despite her worry over Mr. Darcy, which had allowed Charlotte to focus on keeping Maria from panicking over being stranded at Rosings and preventing Mr. Collins from aggravating the circumstances with well-intentioned sympathies that served only to distress Lady Catherine even further.

In the absence of Colonel Fitzwilliam, though, Lady Catherine’s veneer of calm cracked. She reduced two maids to tears with a brutal and undeserved tongue-lashing, then turned her ire on Mr. Collins, criticizing everything from his posture to the manner in which he wore his cravat, making the poor man try franticly to say anything that might please her ladyship. Anne de Bourgh had pronounced herself quite unwell and took to her bed, indubitably to avoid her mother’s rage, since Anne had been the only person at Rosings who seemed not to care about Mr. Darcy’s disappearance.

At dinner, Charlotte was forced to maintain the conversation with her ladyship by herself, since both Mr. Collins and Maria had been thoroughly cowed into silence. This, of course, meant that Lady Catherine vented her spleen at her, roundly criticizing everything from her housekeeping to her appearance to her family background. It was almost enough to break through even Charlotte’s calm, but somehow she managed to maintain her composure. She wished that Colonel Fitzwilliam would hurry back. She would be happy to see
anyone
beyond the current company.

***

Mr. Bennet’s mood had only worsened after he had been forced to abandon his beloved library for the rigors of the unknown. By the time he reached Rosings Park, he was furious. He was barely civil to the footman who opened the door to his knock as he demanded to see Mr. Darcy at once.

“Mr. Darcy is not here,” the footman said curtly.

“Oh, yes, he is,” Mr. Bennet snapped. “I had a letter from my daughter not two days ago telling me so. Tell him Mr. Bennet demands to see him immediately.”

“I regret that I am unable to do so owing to his absence.”

“Where might I find him, in that case?”

“I cannot say, sir.”

“You cannot say? Then I will see Lady Catherine de Bourgh instead.”

The footman seemed on firmer ground here. “Her ladyship is not receiving visitors at present.”

“This is not a social call. I require information from her ladyship, and I require it immediately.”

“If you will wait here, sir, I will see what I can do.”

Mr. Bennet cooled his heels for a few minutes in an ornate dining room, but his hopes to be led to Lady Catherine were destined to be frustrated. Instead, the butler appeared to repeat the same information he had already received: Mr. Darcy’s whereabouts were unknown, and Lady Catherine would not receive him. Only when Mr. Bennet refused to leave did the butler agree to seek further counsel on the matter.

A quarter hour later the door once again opened, and to Mr. Bennet’s astonishment, he was greeted by none other than his former neighbor, Mrs. Collins.

Charlotte stopped abruptly. “Mr. Bennet! I had not expected to find
you
here when Jamison said there was a caller.”

“I am sure you did not,” said Mr. Bennet grimly. “It seems we are both in places where we are not expected. Is Lizzy here as well?”

“No, she is not.” As Charlotte smoothed her hands over her skirt, Mr. Bennet noted that she appeared fatigued and unhappy. “She is, I presume, still at the parsonage, on the other side of the river.”

“It does not matter. I am here to see Mr. Darcy.”

Charlotte’s face grew pale. “Have you had word of him?”

Mr. Bennet snorted. “So to speak.”

“Where is he? Is he injured?” Charlotte wrung her hands as she spoke.

“I am trying to find out where he is, and I have no idea whether he is injured, though I think it quite possible that I may do him an injury myself!”

“Mr. Bennet!” Charlotte paused, then began again. “I should explain myself. You find us in some disarray here. The river that lies between Rosings and the parsonage burst its banks two days ago, washing out the only bridge, while Mr. Collins and I were dining here. Mr. Darcy disappeared just before the flood began, and we fear the worst, for there has been no word of him since. Lady Catherine is naturally quite… distraught, and Miss de Bourgh has taken to her bed, which is why the butler asked me to speak to you in their stead.”

“And Lizzy, is she safe?”

“I cannot see why she would not be. She did not join us for dinner owing to a headache, so she remained at the parsonage. It is on high ground, and our maid is there to care for her. This morning Colonel Fitzwilliam set out to check on her, but he has not returned. No doubt he had to travel farther than expected before he found a way across the river.”

“Who, pray tell, is Colonel Fitzwilliam?”

“My apologies; he is Lady Catherine’s nephew and Mr. Darcy’s cousin.”

Mr. Bennet nodded slowly. “So, Lizzy cannot be reached, Darcy is missing, and you seem oddly surprised to see me.”

Charlotte’s expression grew puzzled. “I had not expected it, though Mr. Collins and I will be happy to have you as our guest, and I am sure Lizzy will be pleased to see you.”

“I suppose, then, that you know nothing of this as well.” Mr. Bennet took a folded sheet of newsprint from his pocket and handed it to Charlotte.

Charlotte unfolded it and perused it in her usual careful manner. A smile broke over her face. “Oh, Lizzy has been quite the sly one! She hasn’t said a word to me of this.” Then her smile abruptly disappeared. “Oh, no. Poor Lizzy! And she has no idea he is…. lost.”