Darcy's stomach turned. His insides twisted as if burned by acid. Those who matter? He stumbled away from the door. He could not bear to hear more. The few sentences he had caught had been enough to put everything into perspective.
“Anne was right,” he whispered to himself as he picked up his pace and hurried towards the stairwell. “She has done nothing wrong. Aunt Catherine is the conniving monster, not her.”
He had completely abandoned the idea of having a drink downstairs. There was no time for such nonsense. While his mind was foggy with exhaustion from the long sleepless hours, his body thrummed with indignation and resolve. He needed to act.
As he rushed down the stairs, Darcy tried to recall what Lady Catherine had mentioned about the carriage that was bound to take Elizabeth Bennet away from Rosings. Had she already left last night? Yesterday, he had been so shaken by Miss Bennet’s unexpected exposure as the culprit, he had not been paying proper attention to what had come next.
When he finally descended to the ground floor, he stopped and looked around. There was not a chambermaid in sight. It was still too early for them to begin their duties.
Should he wake up Anne and tell her everything? Knowing how attached she had grown to Elizabeth Bennet, he doubted she would mind the intrusion. He could not simply storm into her bedroom, however. It would be indecent and there was no one he could ask to accompany him.
Only now it occurred to him that he could have made his presence known to the two accomplices upstairs and confronted his aunt about what she had orchestrated.
What would that possibly accomplish, however? If Lady Catherine had been that desperate to get rid of Elizabeth, his attempt to expose her and defend the young companion would do little to soften the old woman. On the contrary, it might only exacerbate matters for Miss Bennet.
And none of it would stop the horses that were probably carrying Miss Bennet away from him right at this very moment.
How she must feel… Darcy thought and his heart dropped. At that moment he nearly experienced Miss Bennet’s humiliation as if it were his own. Her intentions had been so pure and her name so unfairly slandered. If his manners allowed, he would have spat on the floor in disgust.
He rubbed his eyes. They were dry and itchy from his constantly straining them in the gloom of the house.
He needed to get outside and clear his head. He felt his way through the grand foyer to the front door and burst outside. The cool morning air pinched his face, carrying notes of pine, dewy grass and bluebells. He gulped at it like a man who had been underwater for too long and had only just surfaced. He stood at the top of the stairs and surveyed the dark lane that led away from the house and into the black depths of the park.
A single spot of faint light caught his attention. He looked to his right and squinted. Through the mist that swirled at the foot of the small grove that sprawled in that direction, he discerned the outlines of a building.
The stables, he recalled.
Was it that stable boys started work considerably earlier than the rest of the staff at Rosings, or was it that a special assignment had brought them out of bed at this hour? Were they preparing a set of carriage horses for departure?
Darcy shivered against the morning chill and blew into his cupped palms to warm them. Then he wrapped his coat tighter over his chest and started running.
24
The carriage that took Elizabeth away from her short and tumultuous career at Rosings trundled along the same winding, picturesque road that had taken her to the grand estate a little over a month ago. With every bump in the road that made the wooden wheels creak and groan under her feet, she was reminded of the time she had first arrived in Kent.
How hopeful she had been!
Had she gained anything at all from leaving Hertfordshire and her life behind and coming here? Yes, there was the modest monetary remuneration she had received and set aside. Mrs. Byrd had visited her room later in the evening to count out her remaining salary. At least Elizabeth had not been cheated out of that.
She had hardly had the heart to appreciate it. Mrs. Byrd, always cordial with her in the past, had been cold and reserved. The old woman’s manner had all but betrayed her aversion to being in the company of a criminal. Her honest eyes had judged Elizabeth silently.
Elizabeth had opened her mouth to say something that would convince the housekeeper of her innocence but just as soon she had realized the futility of such an attempt. So what if Mrs. Byrd thought her blameless? In fact, she might simply assume that Elizabeth was grasping at straws. Mrs. Byrd had been the head of the Rosings staff for too long to suddenly abandon the high respect she held for Lady Catherine and start believing a lady’s companion that had only been in employment for a few weeks.
In the end, the money apart, coming to Rosings had been a mistake. Elizabeth’s heart was in ruins, her reputation tarnished and her spirit crushed. The friend she had believed she had gained in the face of Miss Anne had been taken away. The man who had ravished her dreams and woken up unexpected desires in her was not only out of bounds, but despised her for her perceived crime.
She was returning to Longbourn without having had the chance to prove her innocence. She could only imagine the warm welcome she would receive there if Lady Catherine’s note reached her cousin before she did.
While Elizabeth looked at the ghostly scenery of the forest outside and pondered, the carriage rattled, swayed from side to side and suddenly stopped.
Not again! Elizabeth thought. In her estimation, she had been traveling for less than an hour. She might still be on Rosings territory! This time there would be no Mr. Darcy riding off to the house to bring help in case the carriage was broken once more. That would just be her luck! Couldn’t she at least leave the blasted estate with some dignity?
Elizabeth gripped the edge of the bench and braced herself for a good shake. Experience had taught her that a broken carriage wheel would soon push her off her seat and into a heap on the floor.
When the jolt did not come, she started considering other possibilities. The lane was too narrow and they had come across another carriage that was difficult to maneuver around. There was a problem with one of the horses. The carriage driver was dead…
Stop it! Elizabeth chastised herself. The world had not come to an end just because she had lost her job. She forced herself to steady her shaking body and see for herself what had caused the unexpected halt. She pulled the gauzy curtain from the window and peered into the gloom outside, her hand on the door handle.
She nearly fell back when it moved in her palm, forced by outside pressure. There was a face framed in the window, its eyes staring intently at her. Elizabeth’s heart lurched when next the door of the carriage car squeaked loudly and opened. The face was now inches away from her own. Elizabeth’s cheeks were drained of color and her eyes were wide with fear.
“Miss Bennet,” the man standing before her said, wheezing. He had been in a rush and was out of breath entirely. A horse was stomping in place a short distance behind him.
“Mr… Mr. Darcy?” Elizabeth stammered.
Had she dozed off from the monotonous clatter of the carriage and conjured yet another vision of the forbidden man?
Mr. Darcy took a couple of lungfuls of air and poked his head inside the carriage. Elizabeth scooted back on the bench on instinct. What was he doing? This was definitely no more than a silly dream. Then he reached for her gloved hand and his touch was only too real…
“Mr. Darcy, get out at once!” Elizabeth shouted, hoping to draw the driver’s attention. What kind of attack on her person was this? She pulled her hand back immediately and examined it as if it had just been stuck in a booming fireplace.
“Forgive me,” Mr. Darcy said, finally regaining his speaking capacity. He looked at his own hand in disbelief as if it did not belong to him and its rash action had caught him by surprise. “Please, hear me out. I will step out if my presence makes you uncomfortable.”
“Please
do,” Elizabeth muttered and lowered her gaze to the floor. “What are you doing here?” If she sounded rude, she believed she had every right to be so in the face of such offensive behavior.
Mr. Darcy only slipped further away from her on the bench but did not alight.
“I will only be a minute,” he called out to the driver who had left his seat at the front of the carriage and was shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot behind Mr. Darcy’s back. The look on his face spoke of his inability to decide whether he should interfere or stay back.
“Mr. Darcy, this is preposterous,” Elizabeth said with indignation. The man insisted on making her departure even more harrowing than it already was. “Let me leave in peace.”
“You cannot leave.”
Elizabeth raised her eyebrows and squared her shoulders. “Oh?”
“You must come back at once. There are things you need to know, things I have come to learn that would change… things.”
Elizabeth swallowed hard. Mr. Darcy must have lost his mind, riding out here so early in the morning, following her, his faculty of sensible speech clearly impaired… What had possessed him?
“I wish it had not come to this myself,” she said gently as if she were soothing an overstimulated child. “But Lady Catherine was clear in her wishes to—”
“Please, listen to what I have to say for a mere moment,” Mr. Darcy interrupted and leaned forward again, eliciting a wince from the stunned Elizabeth.
“Mr. Darcy…”
“Elizabeth!”
Hearing her own Christian name finally rendered her mute. So complete was her shock. Mr. Darcy did not apologize, nor did he acknowledge the blunder in any way. Instead, he used her momentary silence to say what he had on his mind.
“I know you are innocent. It was all a ploy to get rid of you. My aunt and her companion were both involved. Why they would find you so disagreeable, I could not tell, but from what I overheard, something seemed suspicious.
“Apparently, it was not enough for Lady Catherine to dismiss you from your position and send you on her way. She needed to tarnish your person as well. That is why they planted the ‘stolen’ jewels in your room and performed the whole charade for my and Anne’s benefit. I heard them admit to it.”
Mr. Darcy took a breath and continued, his eyes glistening with fervor.
“The accusations never seemed right to me in the first place. I believed that I had come to know you during our brief stay together at Rosings. However, even I wavered in the face of such glaring evidence against you. Anne never did. She trusted in your innocence from the start and convinced me of what I already knew in my heart to be true. You have done nothing wrong.”
Elizabeth gazed at him for some time without uttering a sound. Finally, there was a version of the events that explained the absurdity of her sudden dismissal. Still, she could see no motivation for it. Lady Catherine was unpleasant to say the least, but she had never seemed as incensed with Elizabeth’s person as to go through such an elaborate scheme just to get rid of her.
Mr. Darcy was waiting. His dark, gleaming eyes bore into her. All she saw in them were honesty and conviction. He truly trusted she had not done the appalling crime she had been accused of.
“But why?” Elizabeth said, exasperated. “I know I might have been rather presumptuous in ignoring some of Dr. Morton’s prescriptions for Miss Anne, but I did it with her best interest in mind. Why would Lady Catherine—”
“Because of me,” Mr. Darcy said, suddenly seeing clearly through his aunt’s machinations.
“You?” Elizabeth’s head was about to explode. She was still not convinced Mr. Darcy was in his right mind coming after her and bursting into her carriage.
All of a sudden she felt caged in the cramped space of the car. She needed to get out but Mr. Darcy was blocking her way. What was this sudden urge to escape every time that she was so close to him? What was it she feared?
Mr. Darcy leaned forward, shortening the already small distance between them.
“Because she wishes I felt for my cousin Anne what I feel for you instead.”
“I do not understand,” Elizabeth said, not even attempting to act coy. Her thoughts were a jumble and her mind raced without direction.
“As much as I have struggled to deny what is in my heart, Miss Bennet, I have feelings for you that I can no longer pretend are simply a fleeting fancy. I realize we are of different stations in life but I can no longer deny what I know for certain.
“You are my match in mind and spirit and every day you grow more beautiful in my eyes. I cannot bear to see you leave, especially when you have been thrown out on such unfair grounds.
“Fate must have given me the chance to glean the truth just in time to finally admit to myself what my mind has been trying to deny for so unnecessarily long.
“Mr. Darcy, I… I” Elizabeth stuttered again. Hearing that she was accused of stealing jewels and thrown out of Rosings had been less unsettling than Mr. Darcy’s sudden confession. Her sense of judgement so rattled, Elizabeth did not trust herself to correctly deem his words truthful or mocking.
“Tell me that you do not feel the same about me and I will step out at once and let you be on your way home.”
Elizabeth pressed her palms to her temples and shook her head, closing her eyes tightly as if willing herself to wake up from a dream. For an instant, she looked lost, distraught and downright deranged.
Then she suddenly calmed and stilled herself. She opened her eyes and found his. She discovered she was not afraid to look into them after going to such great lengths to avoid his stare during the past weeks. She had been intimidated, embarrassed, resentful even, but now all she found in the dark brown wells that gazed back at her intently was warmth and comfort.
When she finally spoke, her voice was even and smooth, her features relaxed and her cheeks beautifully flushed.
“You tell me how I feel, Mr. Darcy, for I cannot find the words and the answers myself, though I do struggle to do so each night. When I close my eyes, I dream of you. I trust your hand more than mine. I miss you when you are not there. The worst is still when you are right in front of me but so out of reach. I miss you then the most.
“So, tell me, Mr. Darcy, because I do not know, do I have feelings for you as well?”
Mr. Darcy’s relief and boundless fascination were written all over his face. His eyes twinkled, his lips stretched in a rare smile.
“You must come back to Rosings with me,” he said hoarsely and reached for her hand again. This time she did not pull away.
“I cannot,” Elizabeth said and finally looked away from him, her sides burning. She trembled.
“We must rectify this injustice. My aunt should not escape the consequences for what she has done. Even if she does not wish to keep you as Anne’s companion any longer, she must at least formerly apologize. You have done nothing wrong and—”
“Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth said quietly, looking down at his large hand covering her own. “I cannot return there. Not after what you have told me here and what I have said in response. I was humiliated beyond measure with the false accusation, but even that I could swallow. What I could not live with is betraying Miss Anne.”
“I will explain. She will see right through her mother’s vicious act. She has grown to love you and she is wise and discerning. She will be outraged. I beg you to come back with me.”
“It is not what I meant…” Elizabeth said shyly. “You and her… You are promised to each—”
“Nonsense!” Mr. Darcy fumed. “My lips have not uttered any promises to anyone.”
“And yet Miss Anne already must think of you as her intended. That is how everyone thinks of you, even if it is not spoken.”
“And everyone is wrong. Anne will be the first to tell you how erroneous it would be for the two of us to marry. We are not puppets on strings in our parents’ hands—”
“But we are—”
“Come back with me, Elizabeth. Leave e
verything else to me.”
Elizabeth closed her eyes. Her name again. From his lips, it sounded like music. What would it be like to hear it spoken, called, whispered every day? What would it be like to see the genuine adoration in Mr. Darcy’s eyes, to hold his hand, to walk and breathe and laugh alongside him? A wave of pleasure traveled through her at the thought. For a mere instant she allowed herself to believe it was possible.
What if she took Mr. Darcy’s proffered hand and returned to Rosings with him?
Then she opened her eyes and reality hit her. It was getting brighter outside. The stark morning light illuminated the inside of the carriage car, Mr.Darcy’s elegant suit, her own shabby dress. The driver paced outside ever so impatiently, ready to burst the door open at any moment. Birds cawed in the bare crowns of the gnarly trees.
“I better be on my way,” she said in the end, her heart convulsing at the sight of Mr. Darcy’s face falling. “There is nothing left for me at Rosings.”
“Anne is still there and she would be infuriated when she learns how my aunt attempted to trick her as if she were a little girl. She would want to see you.”
“I am merely a lady’s companion,” Elizabeth said, desperation in her voice. She was looking for any feeble excuse that would get her out of this predicament faster. There was no point in prolonging the agony. “I am replaceable like the next scullery maid or stable boy. I have told you already, I will not return to—”
“What if you return to Rosings as my wife?”
Elizabeth let out a little squeak of surprise, her hand flying up to cover her mouth.
She inspected Mr. Darcy’s face. To her infinite surprise, she didn’t see mockery. His expression was serious and his eyes determined. Next, her gaze fell on his hand, which still held hers. How had she forgotten about it?
Too Close to Mr Darcy Page 17
