Rescued by Mr Darcy

by Anne-Marie Grace

  “I had better return inside,” Miss Elizabeth said, nodding towards the blonde woman, her sister. She had yet to speak. “My sister is quite frightened and I should comfort her.”

  “Of course,” Darcy said with a nod of his head. “I promise to protect you both.” He raised his voice to reassure the sister. “With my life, if necessary.”

  He saw a smile flicker on Miss Elizabeth’s lips, and he blushed deeply. That was quite a dramatic promise, one more apt to leap from the lips of his friends, not his own. It was true, to be certain, but he was not one to say such things aloud. He hoped the dim lantern light hid his embarrassment.

  Miss Elizabeth curtsied once more, turned, and climbed into the carriage. The blonde sister had already disappeared inside.

  Darcy found himself staring after her for several long moments before he came back to himself and climbed onto the driver’s seat. To his relief, it seemed that the driver had fallen asleep. He did not think he would have trouble with the team—when he was much younger, and much more foolish, he had owned a phaeton with a team of two. He felt confident he could handle the team of four.

  He settled himself and flicked the reins. The horses responded at once—they were obviously well-trained. They had to be, to remain so motionless with all the commotion that had surrounded them. Darcy could feel that his grip was tight on the reins, but after a few minutes, he began to relax. The horses knew what to do, and required very little from him.

  The phaeton, he had not thought of that ridiculous conveyance in years! It was all the rage for fashionable young men, and he had succumbed to the expectations of his social circle. But he soon grew tired of it. It was meant for two, but Darcy’s friends preferred to ride their own horses, and he was a bachelor. No respectable young woman would ride with him alone. So, he had ended up using two horses to get him places when one would do the job better.

  It would be nice to take a ride with that woman, he thought idly. Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

  He was immediately ashamed to think of putting her in a compromising position, but the desire to know more about her remained.

  When he had seen the highwayman fly away from the carriage, he had expected to see a man emerge from the dark interior. He had been shocked to see an angry young woman. A pretty young woman. She was obviously strong, both in body and mind. He had heard what she said to those men—she had not sheathed her tongue in the face of danger. He knew few men who could have mustered up such courage.

  Her sister, the blonde, was more beautiful—objectively speaking—but Miss Elizabeth held his interest in a way he did not think her sister capable. He realised, after a few moments, that he could not remember the blonde sister’s name. He knew Elizabeth had told him, but he could not remember. His mind was filled with Elizabeth, not her sister.

  The miles flew by and he was startled when the driver’s voice broke into his thoughts. “The turn for the ladies’ home is coming up soon.”

  “I thought they lived in Meryton,” Darcy said, turning to the man that he had thought was asleep.

  “No, about a mile outside,” the man replied. He pointed to a large, forked beech tree. “I know Longbourn is coming up whenever I see that tree. It was struck by lightning a few years ago, but continues to grow.”

  “You’re familiar with this area?” Darcy asked, seeing the turn the driver had warned of. He eased back on the reins and coaxed the horses to turn.

  “My mother lives in Meryton,” the coachman said with a smile. “I live there when I’m not driving.”

  “Then you know the Bennets,” Darcy said.

  “I know what most know of them,” he said slowly. “There are five daughters, the eldest is the most beautiful girl in the county.” Darcy was amused to hear the sigh in the man’s voice. “And I know that the second, Miss Elizabeth, has a tongue to be feared. As we heard tonight.” He sounded proud at this. Clearly, he did not think Miss Elizabeth’s wit was to be feared, but admired.

  Five daughters, Darcy thought. What a burden for their father. It was no surprise that the ladies wore dresses that did not precisely match their station.

  The carriage passed a modest park and Darcy soon saw a small manor house come out of the darkness. A single candle burned in one of the windows—it was evident they had not expected the daughters of the house to return after dark. Darcy felt relieved. He did not enjoy meeting new people, especially people with five daughters, and he was glad to have a reason to depart quickly.

  They pulled to a stop and Darcy heard the door to the carriage open before either he or the coachman could jump down and open it. It would seem the women were eager to be home. He settled the reins on the seat and jumped down. A yawning servant was making his way toward the carriage, and the coachman had begun to untie the luggage. The ride had cleared his head and he looked eager to prove he could do his job.

  Darcy walked swiftly to the door of the coach and arrived in time to help Elizabeth and her sister from the carriage. He held his hand to Elizabeth and as their hands met, he felt his heart leap in a strange manner—certainly not in a way he recognised. He quickly dropped her hand and turned to the sister. He felt no such surprise at her touch.

  “Thank you,” the sister said quietly, the first words Darcy had heard her speak. “Despite what you say, we are in your debt. I do not know how we will repay you for your kindness, but perhaps we can begin by offering you shelter for the night?”

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a look of surprise on Elizabeth’s face. It seemed the sisters had not discussed this invitation. For a moment, he felt a mad desire to accept the offer. What was the matter with him? He thought and his cool head prevailed.

  “That is generous of you, however, I am quite close to my destination,” he said with a bow. “Do you know of Netherfield?”

  “Indeed,” Miss Elizabeth said. “It is but three miles from here. If you ride back the way we travelled, you will find a crossroads just before reaching Meryton. Take the road going east for a few miles, and the drive leading to Netherfield Hall is on the left. You shall know it at once, for it is the largest house in the neighbourhood.”

  “Thank you,” Darcy said, glancing from the women to the servant and the coachman handling the luggage. “Will you be fine from now on?”

  “Yes.” Miss Elizabeth smiled. “Thank you.”

  Darcy bowed low to the women, who curtsied in return. “Then, I shall take my leave,” he said, accepting his horse from the coachman. “I hope we meet again under less… exciting circumstances.”

  “That is our hope as well,” the blonde sister said as Darcy swung into his saddle.

  “I bid you goodnight,” he said, touching the brim of his hat.

  Both women gave a small wave in goodbye, and Darcy kicked his horse into a movement, leaving Longbourn behind. He resisted the urge to turn back for one more look at the brown-haired woman—he would not be able to see her in the darkness, he reasoned. Besides, he would meet her again, of that, he was certain.

  Chapter 3

  Elizabeth

  “Why on earth would he want to go to Netherfield?” Elizabeth asked, turning to Jane.

  “I have no idea,” Jane replied tiredly. “But I would prefer to think of that in the morning. I have had quite enough activity for one day.”

  “Agreed,” Elizabeth said fervently. She looped her arm around Jane’s. “Let us go to bed and put this awful night behind us.”

  They began to walk up the path towards the door when it burst open and a woman in nightclothes hurried toward them.

  “Jane! Lizzy!” Mrs. Bennet exclaimed, throwing herself into their arms. “What on earth are you doing here? When you didn’t arrive before dark, we assumed you had stayed one more night with my brother! Or at an inn on the road!” She did not pause for explanation, but instead moved onto the question she was obviously eager to ask. “Who was that man?” She began to pull her daughters toward the door.

  “I did not hear his name,” Jane admitted. “
Lizzy?”

  “His name is…” But she stopped. She knew he had told her, they had made proper introductions. But her mind was blank. She could not recall what he had said. “I cannot remember his name,” she admitted. “But for some reason, he is going to Netherfield.”

  “Netherfield!” Mrs. Bennet exclaimed. “Did you hear that, Mr. Bennet?” Elizabeth saw her father standing in the doorway of the house, still fully dressed as she knew he would be. The candle burned in the window of his study, and Elizabeth knew he relished the quiet of night to read without distraction.

  “I heard, my dear,” Mr. Bennet said. “But right now, I am far more concerned about why my eldest daughters come home in the middle of the night, half-dead with exhaustion, their coachman looking as if someone used his face to pound nails!”

  “Oh, Papa,” Elizabeth said, pulling away from Mrs. Bennet to hug her father. He held a candle in one hand, but he squeezed her tight with his free arm. She felt strengthened by his embrace.

  “We are quite well, I assure you,” she said into his chest.

  “I am glad to hear it,” he said. “But I will hear what has happened.”

  “It was two highwaymen,” Jane said quietly. “But I am sure they would not have hurt us.”

  “What?” Mrs. Bennet yelped, grabbing the candle from Mr. Bennet’s grip and using it to look at her daughters closely. “You were robbed? Oh, my poor girls!”

  The arm holding the candle began to droop, and Elizabeth seized the candle before it dropped to the ground.

  “I do not know if my nerves could handle if anything happened to you!” Mrs. Bennet burst into tears and draped herself over Jane.

  Mr. Bennet and Elizabeth helped Jane lead Mrs. Bennet into the sitting room and deposit her into a chair. Jane immediately knelt beside her mother and began to whisper reassurances. Mr. Bennet pulled Elizabeth slightly away.

  “What happened?” He asked quietly. “The whole truth, if you please. You do me no favours to spare me details.”

  Elizabeth nodded, swallowing hard.

  “We were attacked,” she said in a whisper. “They sprung upon us and had knocked the coachman to the ground before we knew what was happening. While one held him, a second attempted to relieve us of our valuables.”

  “How could the driver be taken in such a manner?” Mr. Bennet demanded angrily. “It is his job to protect his passengers!”

  “Do not blame him, Papa,” Elizabeth said, laying a hand on his arm. “It is not his fault. You know as well as I that there have been no highwaymen in this area for years! It is not something anyone would have expected, especially not with the militia in Meryton.”

  Mr. Bennet gave a huge sigh and rubbed his face with both hands. “I suppose you’re right,” he said, his voice muffled by his hands. He stopped rubbing and looked at Elizabeth with shining eyes. “I just cannot bear to think that you might have been hurt.”

  Elizabeth felt touched by her father’s display of emotion and felt the stresses of the night finally catch up with her. Despite her best efforts, she felt tears begin to fall down her face.

  “We were so scared,” she admitted. “But a gentleman came at just the right moment. He had a pistol, and the highwaymen decided he was not worth the effort of fighting.” She smiled at the memory. “I believe his horse stepped on one of them.”

  “Good,” Mr. Bennet said fiercely. “They deserve it! And tomorrow, I shall visit the magistrate. Such lawlessness cannot be allowed to stand.”

  “A fine idea,” Elizabeth agreed, wiping the tears from her face and gathering herself once more.

  “But who was the man?” Mr. Bennet asked.

  “I cannot remember his name,” Elizabeth said, embarrassed. “The excitement has completely robbed my memory. But I do know he was headed to Netherfield.”

  “It must be the man who has let Netherfield!” Mrs. Bennet’s voice broke into the conversation. “From the glimpse I had of him, he was obviously a gentleman. And obviously rich.” Mrs. Bennet’s tears were quite gone, replaced by a calculating look.

  “Someone has let Netherfield?” Jane asked.

  “It’s about time,” Elizabeth added. “It has been empty for ages.”

  The door to the sitting room opened and Mary, Kitty and Lydia came into the room, yawning and rubbing the sleep from their eyes.

  “What’s going on?” Lydia asked crossly. “All this noise woke us up.” She looked at her elder sisters without greeting them. Elizabeth was not surprised. Lydia may dislike going to bed, but she hated being stirred from sleep once it came.

  “Welcome home, Jane, Lizzy,” Mary said, making up for Lydia’s lapse.

  “All this for them coming home? Not that I’m not glad to see you,” Lydia conceded.

  “It seems as if your sisters have met Mr. Bingley!” Mrs. Bennet exclaimed.

  “Who on earth is Mr. Bingley?” Jane asked, clearly confused.

  “The man who rescued you!” Mrs. Bennet exclaimed. “The one who has let Netherfield. The one who has five thousand a year!” Elizabeth heard the emphasis her mother placed upon five thousand. This Mr. Bingley was rich indeed.

  “You met Mr. Bingley?” Kitty and Lydia asked at once, envy in their voices.

  “Lizzy, did he say his name was Bingley?” Jane asked, looking for confirmation.

  Elizabeth rubbed her head, the excitement around her feeling suddenly overwhelming.

  “I do not know,” she said slowly. Had he said Bingley? It sounded possible, but she couldn’t be certain. “Perhaps he said his name was Bingley? I don’t know, I think maybe his name started with a ‘D’…”

  “Of course, it was Mr. Bingley,” Mrs. Bennet said, waving away Elizabeth’s uncertainty. “He was a gentleman headed toward Netherfield. Who else could it be? And you have met him already! How wonderful. Yes, this is just as I had hoped.”

  “You hoped that our daughters would be beset by highway brutes?” Mr. Bennet asked dryly. “And require rescue?”

  “Don’t be silly, Mr. Bennet,” Mrs. Bennet snapped. “You know well enough that I intend for him to marry one of our girls, for why else has he come to the country but to find a wife? That he should encounter our girls in such an exciting manner is better than I possibly could have imagined.”

  “Highway brutes?” Kitty asked, surprised. “We did not hear that. What happened?”

  When no one answered her question, she began to pout.

  Elizabeth exchanged a look with Jane. Jane looked startled, but Elizabeth was not. There was little else on their mother’s mind these days besides matchmaking and marriage.

  “Perhaps next time,” Mr. Bennet said without amusement, “we could put all the girls in danger. Now that should have the suitors lining up. For every man desires to be a hero.”

  “You tease me, Mr. Bennet,” Mrs. Bennet replied, not hearing the edge in her husband’s voice. Elizabeth could tell her father was not pleased that her mother so easily dismissed the ordeal she and Jane had endured. “But when you die, it is us that shall be tossed on the street! And you are no longer young…”

  “Before you have me in my grave,” Mr. Bennet said loudly, talking over his wife, “I would like a good night’s sleep, if at all possible.”

  “I cannot believe you got to meet Mr. Bingley first,” Lydia said, envy thick in her voice. “Papa only visited him yesterday!”

  “Tell us about the highwaymen,” Kitty said pleadingly. Elizabeth ignored her again.

  “I gladly would trade the experience with you,” Elizabeth said darkly. Her father had visited Mr. Bingley yesterday? Then why was he so far from Netherfield today? Elizabeth shook her head, she had no desire to further dissect their encounter. “Next time, you may face the highwaymen.”

  “She does not mean it like that, Lizzy,” Jane said quietly, and Elizabeth immediately felt herself fill with shame. She had allowed her fatigue to make her unkind.

  “I know,” Elizabeth sighed. “Lydia, I apologise. I am quite tired.”

 
If Lydia, who had crossed her arms and thrown herself into a chair, accepted her apology, Elizabeth could not tell. She rubbed her temples, her head aching, and she wanted nothing more than to go to bed.

  “It is no matter,” Mrs. Bennet said in a soothing tone to her younger daughters. “You shall all have a chance to meet him in a few days. He told your father that he will be attending the Meryton Assembly!”

  Elizabeth dropped her hand from her head slowly, glancing at her mother. The Assembly? In just a few days? She would get to see him again in just a few days?

  “We still do not know if it even was Mr. Bingley,” Jane pointed out. “Papa, could you see him before he left?”

  Elizabeth turned to her father, trying to hide her eagerness. She scolded herself. There was no reason to be eager. He was just a stranger they met on the road; there was no reason for her heart to start beating faster when she thought of him. No reason at all.

  “I don’t know,” Mr. Bennet said with a yawn. “I was still in my study when he rode away. You may talk of this until dawn if you wish, but I am going to find my bed.”

  Elizabeth yawned as well, suddenly feeling as though she might fall asleep on her feet.

  “A fine idea, Papa,” Elizabeth agreed, stretching and following Mr. Bennet towards the sitting room door. Elizabeth saw Jane stand and kiss her mother’s cheek goodnight. Elizabeth halted and went to kiss her mother as well. She was, after all, quite glad to be home.

  “I want to hear about what happened to Lizzy and Jane,” Kitty whined one last time.

  “Tomorrow,” Jane promised, finally answering the younger girl.

  This seemed to placate Kitty, for she too began to head for bed. At this point, everyone decided they may as well go upstairs. Kitty, Mary and Lydia walked with the candle they had lit to come downstairs, while Mr. Bennet led his wife and other daughters through the dark house.

  At the top of the stairs, Mr. Bennet turned to Jane and Elizabeth and kissed both their cheeks. “I am glad you are home, and overjoyed to have you safe,” he whispered to them.