by Jennifer Joy
The stable manager and the blacksmith left their shops to join them.
Darcy could not stay around. “Tanner, I have to see to Mr. Bennet. He fell. Send the surgeon and a cart.”
Without waiting for an answer, he turned and raced down the road to Mr. Bennet. Dear Lord, please let him be alive.
Down the lane, past where Mr. Bennet’s figure lay unmoving, Darcy saw Mr. Collins running toward him, one hand clutching his ribs and with a remarkable limp. He would have to run the rest of the way, for Darcy would not leave Mr. Bennet’s side once he reached him.
Dismounting before stopping completely, Darcy rushed to Mr. Bennet, careful his horse did not trample the gentleman.
Mr. Bennet did not move.
“Mr. Bennet,” Darcy called, kneeling beside him. Darcy’s pulse thundered in his ears so loudly, he feared he would not hear an answer.
“Mr. Bennet?” he repeated.
A groan.
Darcy’s breath shook in relief. He was alive.
“Are you able to move?” he asked.
Another groan. Mr. Bennet lay splayed out over the dirt, face down.
“We really must stop meeting this way, Mr. Bennet,” Darcy said, in an effort to lighten the dread he felt.
“I … agree … fully,” Mr. Bennet said, tilting his head.
“I have to determine the extent of your injuries, sir. I will move you with the utmost caution.”
Holding Mr. Bennet’s shoulder and hip, Darcy slowly and gently turned him to his side, ready to stop should the man complain. It was not until he lowered him to his back that Mr. Bennet shrieked in pain, his knuckles turning white as he tightened his hold on the reins he still held.
“My leg!”
Mr. Collins had reached them. He stooped over with his hands on his knees, gasping for breath. He attempted to speak, but only wheezes proceeded from his mouth.
Mr. Bennet’s whole body shook. Taking off his greatcoat, Darcy covered him with it, tucking the fabric tightly around Mr. Bennet and making the gentleman as comfortable as possible until the surgeon and cart arrived.
“That was quite a fall you suffered,” Darcy said, speaking whatever came to mind, knowing he had to keep Mr. Bennet alert. “Can you feel any pain besides your leg?”
“The reins,” answered Mr. Bennet. “Cut.” His terror-stricken eyes settled on Darcy.
Placing his hand on Mr. Bennet’s shoulder, he tried to soothe the gentleman.
Struggling until he freed his arm from Darcy’s coat, Mr. Bennet clutched Darcy’s arm. “Someone attempted to kill me.”
Finally, Mr. Collins spoke, voicing the words circling in Darcy’s mind. “There is another murderer about.”
Chapter 21
Elizabeth flew down the road, her feet pounding against the dirt in time to the racing of her heart.
She had heard the shot.
When she saw William bent over her father’s still form, she cried out.
William was beside her before she could blink the tears blurring her vision away. Swallowing her within his arms, he kissed the top of her head, and said the words she needed to hear.
“He is alive, Elizabeth. He will be well. The surgeon is on his way. He is alive.”
She collapsed into his arms and he held her. Allowing herself a brief moment of solace, her senses calmed by his warmth, she caught her breath. The prickly stubble covering his chin rubbed over her forehead when she looked up at him and shifted her weight to her own feet.
Without uttering a word, he knew her need. Tucking her arm into his, sharing his strength with her, they joined Father and Mr. Collins.
She bent down, settling into the ground by Father’s head. William sat behind her, close enough to keep her back warm. A bead of sweat trickled down her temple and she shivered. She had left the house too suddenly to don a wrap.
William shifted, but she did not take her eyes off her father. The streaks of dirt smudged across his face lent the only color to his pallid cheeks. She wiped at his face tenderly, accepting William’s handkerchief when he offered it to her. Father’s spectacles lay beside him, the glass shattered and the wires mangled.
“Lizzy, you will catch your death of cold,” Father said, his voice weak and raspy. He pulled at the greatcoat tucked around his shoulders and she knew he meant to give it to her.
“There is no need for either of you to fall ill.” Darcy dropped his coat over Elizabeth’s shoulders. The soft velvet, still warm from the heat of his body, enveloped her and she soaked up the comfort it offered.
Father, his hand still free, reached up to take her hand by his face. Looking at her intensely, he said, “You must leave this place. I give my permission for you to marry — today if you can manage it.”
Elizabeth saw the veins in his eyes as Father widened them, looking wildly between her and William. He further implored, “Take her away, Mr. Darcy. Protect my girl! Had she been with me…”
Tears poured down Father’s temples and Elizabeth wiped them away. Her stomach wrenched and her chest hurt to see how he worried for her when he was so vulnerable and weak. As if she could leave him in such a state! This was most certainly not an act. She was ashamed to think she had once thought him capable of such treachery.
She looked up at William, her turmoil reflected in his eyes.
Leaning forward against her, William rested his hand on Father’s shoulder and said calmly, “First, let us see to your health. Then, we will discuss our future.”
Father shook his head, groaning as he did. “I am unable to protect Lizzy … to protect Miss Darcy … should another attack occur. I can no longer choose to ignore the obvious.”
Elizabeth placed her hands on either side of his face, but he did not calm until he heard William.
“Mr. Bennet, I promise to protect Elizabeth and all whom she holds dear. I will stand guard in front of Longbourn if I must, but it would be cruel for me to take your daughter away when she knows you to be in danger. Rest assured, Mr. Bennet, I will find out who is responsible for this and I will prevent the menace from harming you again — as surely as I live and breathe, I will see justice done for my family.”
His family. Elizabeth looked away from Father to William. Did he realize what he had just said? Granted, they were betrothed, but his easy acceptance of not only her, but her family as well, was balm to her soul.
Father relaxed. “Stay with us at Longbourn, Mr. Darcy. Do what I am unable to do. Keep your promise. Keep our families safe.”
William’s eyes narrowed, his focus intent on one object only. His jaw clenched and squared, determination evidenced in every tense muscle on his frame. “I swear it.”
“And I will help you,” said Mr. Collins, waving his pistol in the air.
William’s sharp voice pounced on Mr. Collins. “Put that blasted thing away before you hurt anyone else.”
Mr. Collins had sense enough not to attempt to defend himself, choosing instead to sulk nearby in silence until the clatter of a cart sounded in the distance.
“The surgeon and Mr. Tanner are coming,” he said in as pleasant of a tone as a man so recently chastised could utter.
William rose to his feet and waited for them to pull the cart near Father, standing between the wheels and Father’s limp body like a protective wall.
Elizabeth took strength in her overflowing love for him. They would make it through this trial as they had made it through the many other adversities they had already faced.
The surgeon examined Father. Elizabeth pressed her knuckles against her lips, praying Father suffered no grave injury. He looked so frail.
It felt as if an eternity had passed when the surgeon finally declared, “You are one fortunate man, Mr. Bennet. You could have met your death today. Remember that when you rebel at another day in bed, for you, sir, will be restricted to that area for several weeks. Your leg appears to be broken, but aside from that, you will be as right as rain in a few months … provided there is no infection and the bone heals a
s it should.”
Elizabeth breathed deeply. Once again, Father came out of a lethal situation with his life intact. She felt the full gravity of his predicament as the men brought a plank of wood over, resting it on the ground beside him. He may not be so fortunate next time.
“Take a deep breath, Mr. Bennet. This may hurt a bit,” said Tanner.
Father chuckled weakly, no doubt his relief at being declared mostly healthy improving his spirits. “Thank goodness I have a hard head, eh, Lizzy?”
Elizabeth smiled, kissing him on the forehead. “Thank goodness for that,” she whispered to him, holding his hand and her breath when he squeezed it and shouted in pain. The nerves stabbing up her arm could be nothing in comparison to what he felt, so she bit her tongue and climbed into the cart beside him.
William tied his horse, who had been grazing nearby, to the back of the cart and sat on the other side of Father, his eyes roving over their surroundings watchfully. He took his promise seriously — as Elizabeth knew he would.
Mrs. Hill barked orders like a general commanding the troops of her household. She sent for water to be boiled, for clean bed clothes to be laid out, for Thomas to split wood and a splint to be made, and for Betsy to rip a sheet down its length for strips of cloth for the surgeon’s use.
Lydia wailed when she saw Father laying helplessly on the wooden plank carried by the men. They grunted and William reached out to stabilize the plank when Lydia threw herself over Father’s chest, soaking his dirty neck cloth and coat with her tears.
“Lydia, love, do not cry over me. I will heal,” he muttered, patting her hair. So great was her distress, she did not complain about him disturbing her curls or hairpins.
Chloe yelped and jumped beside Lydia, her paws reaching for Father. When the gentlemen carried Father to his bedchamber upstairs, Chloe followed. When they rested him on his bed, she climbed onto his mattress and curled up beside him, glaring and baring her teeth at anyone who dared attempt to remove her.
Lydia cheered at the sight. Like a proud mother, she said, “Look at how clever my Chloe is. She will be Papa’s nurse. Have no fear, Papa. Chloe will watch over you and I shall read the gossip columns from the newspaper aloud. We shall criticize and poke fun at whomever we wish and take comfort in our laughter. You cannot feel unwell when you are laughing. It is impossible.”
Elizabeth wrapped her arm around Lydia. For all her silliness, it was touching to hear her plan for nursing Father back to health. Elizabeth held no illusions it would last for more than a day, maybe two, but it was a kind, unselfish thought.
The surgeon asked everyone to leave excepting Father’s manservant. Once Father was changed and his leg seen to, they could return, though he warned them that his first matter of business was to have Father drink laudanum tea. He would likely spend the rest of the day sleeping.
The rush of emotions drained through Elizabeth as she stepped out of his room. Father was home. He was safe. And he would recover. Taking a deep breath and bolstering her strength, she prepared her mind for the bigger problem looming. The problem they must solve before Father’s unknown enemy could make another attack. Father’s enemy. What could anybody possibly have against Father?
Mrs. Annesley and Miss Darcy stood in the hall outside their rooms. That was another problem. How could Elizabeth possibly give Miss Darcy any attention at all when her mind was distracted with more vital matters?
Miss Darcy approached her, shocking Elizabeth when she took both of her hands between hers and held them. “I am sorry for your tragedy,” she said softly. “I am at your disposal if you require anything at all. I should like very much to lighten your burden, Miss Elizabeth. Please, tell me how I may help.”
Elizabeth squeezed her hands and smiled at the timid girl, wishing they enjoyed sufficient intimacy to justify an embrace. “Thank you. What I need most now is my family and friends to be near.”
Miss Darcy looked at her brother, her eyebrows arching in question.
“Mr. Bennet wishes for me to stay at Longbourn to offer the household more protection,” William answered.
“You cannot do it alone, Darcy,” said Tanner. “We do not know who is responsible for this, and until we do, Mr. Bennet — and by extension, all at Longbourn — are vulnerable.”
“Let us go to the drawing room. We have much to discuss.” William stood to the side of the stairs to allow the ladies to pass.
“I will stay with Father and Chloe,” said Lydia, taking her nursing duties seriously. “Lizzy, you will tell me everything later?”
“I will leave no detail out. Thank you, Lydia.” Elizabeth could not remember another time when she had felt as grateful to Lydia as she felt at that moment.
William held out his hand and Elizabeth took it, clinging tightly to his side as they followed the procession leading into the drawing room.
Elizabeth sat next to the fire, William flanking her on the other side. As warm as she ought to have been, she could not prevent the chill from shaking through her body. Longbourn, the home which had always provided stability and security, no longer felt safe.
Chapter 22
Mr. Tanner crossed his arms and glared at Mr. Collins. “I suggest we begin with an account of what happened prior to Mr. Bennet’s accident.”
Mr. Collins squirmed in his seat, his corset creaking louder than the chair on which he sat.
“Perhaps you would be more comfortable if you removed the pistol from your person, Mr. Collins,” suggested Mrs. Annesley. “Your willingness to defend your relatives is admirable, sir, however, I am certain you have drawn the reasonable conclusion that the weapon would be of more use to someone with more experience handling it.” She held out her hand with a pleasant smile.
Mr. Collins stood, removing the pistol from the back of his pantaloons, his excitement to be rid of the thing so great, he tossed it at Mrs. Annesley.
“Calm, Mr. Collins. Even when a weapon is unloaded, it must always be treated with the utmost respect.” Mrs. Annesley flicked open a metal piece at the top of the pistol and cleaned it out with her handkerchief before laying the pistol on the table between her and Mr. Tanner.
Elizabeth did not know much about firearms, Father never having been much of a hunter and there being no brothers in the house to take up the activity. But she knew enough to realize that Mrs. Annesley had cleaned the pan where the gunpowder went, leaving nothing to ignite a spark and cause more harm than it already had done.
Mr. Collins remained standing as if on trial. “Thank you for your delicacy, Mrs. Annesley. I am a man of peace, as befits my profession, and as such, it does not suit me to carry a weapon of destruction, though I flatter myself at the astounding improvement in my aim after only one afternoon of practice.”
Mr. Tanner, not so delicate in manners as Mrs. Annesley, said, “By all appearances, Mr. Collins, you shot the floorboard of your cousin’s gig to pieces, sending the horses into a panic and endangering many lives. Do you care to explain how that happened?”
His face burning red, Mr. Collins said, “Mr. Bennet expressed his desire to drive into Meryton in order to replace the chairs in his dining room in addition to the ladder and chair in his study. Mr. Burk at the haberdashery had received some fine pieces from an estate in London a few weeks ago. I went along to offer my protection and to convince Mr. Bennet to acquire the side table of rosewood. The carvings along the trim are exquisitely done and would give credit to my cousin’s superior taste—”
“Mr. Collins, we are not interested in a detailed description of the furniture,” interrupted Mr. Tanner. “Why did you carry a loaded pistol in your drawers? And worse, why did you shoot it?”
Elizabeth gritted her teeth in disdain.
Mr. Collins looked to his left, where Mrs. Annesley and Miss Darcy sat. “Mr. Tanner,” he whispered. “I hardly think it is appropriate to bring my unmentionables into discussion when there are ladies present. I do not wish to offend their delicacy.”
Raising one eyebrow, Mr
. Tanner asked the ladies present, “Are your delicacies offended?”
Once Father was recovered, Elizabeth would appreciate the humor of the present discussion. As it was, she was in too grave a mood to smile or come up with a witty retort.
Mrs. Annesley answered, “While the subject of certain garments are hardly considered an appropriate topic at any time among mixed company, I understand the intent behind the mention of them. Mr. Collins, you are a man given to many words as befits one accustomed to the creation and delivery of sermons. However, your talents would be best appreciated in your parish church. Here, with the pressing matter before us, brevity is best.”
“Amen!” said Mr. Tanner with a salute to the companion.
Mr. Collins’ vanity thus consoled and Mr. Tanner’s impatience thus upheld, the verbose clergyman finally — thank the Lord! — got to the point.
“I had tucked the pistol … away … but it jabbed me in the ribs. It is a rather bulky weapon,” he added as an aside, then quickly returned to a concise narrative of his account with one glare from Mr. Tanner. “Em, I apologize. Due to the discomfort of the pistol being … where it was … I determined to remove it and set it on the seat between myself and Mr. Bennet. That was when I, quite by accident, pulled the trigger.” Mr. Collins bowed his head and clasped his hands in front of him.
William, who had been quietly observing everyone in the room, asked, “Why did you travel with a loaded pistol?”
“Though my skills have improved dramatically with the weapon in a remarkably short time, I require more practice in loading it. My slowness could have cost Mr. Bennet his life were his unknown adversary to come upon us during the drive into the village. Considering the circumstances, I felt it best to be prepared.”
Elizabeth could think of no one else in her acquaintance who would attempt to rationalize such a foolish decision. If Mr. Collins asked for permission to wed Mary, Elizabeth sincerely hoped Father would refuse.
