It was not like her to be so quiet, but she burned with shame.
Darcy was not a charming man, to be sure, but he was of a class that valued good manners. It was unthinkable that he had met an acquaintance here and not tried to convince her party to stay at his estate nearby. No doubt they would have protested, but he ought to have offered his hospitality in any case. The fact that he had not done so spoke volumes about what he must think of her. How foolish she had been to hope that he might understand!
In the end, no matter the shame she felt, Lizzy would not let it be said that she had faded into the corner of the room. Her sister’s disgrace had taken a lot from her—would she allow it to take her voice too? All of the carefree happiness she had felt on their journey was gone now; replaced by the sense of helplessness she had become very familiar with in the past year.
She forced herself to look into his eyes, just as she had done with other acquaintances; she had pretended not to see the laughter in their eyes and the sneers that twisted their mouths.
There was no sneer on Darcy’s mouth. She could not help but notice that.
Perhaps I am mistaken, she thought. Perhaps there is no dwelling on his estate. Or it is uninhabitable.
“Do you often stay at inns even though you have an estate nearby?”
“Heavens no,” he said. “Why would I do such a thing? Now if you will excuse me, I was just leaving to return to my estate.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The inn was very comfortable and pleasant indeed.
“What was he doing here?” Mr. Gardiner muttered when they had taken a small table in a nook in the corner of the room.
His wife did not seem to care about Darcy’s presence. She turned to Lizzy and watched her intently. “Why did you not tell me you knew Mr. Darcy?”
Lizzy shook her head miserably. “I did not recognise his name,” she lied. “It was only when I saw the man that I remembered him.”
“From where, Lizzy? Where did you meet him? I do not know much about him at all but one thing I have heard said many times over is that he is as yet unmarried. I would have…” she stopped talking and the smile vanished from her face. “I am sorry, Lizzy.”
Elizabeth looked away. “It is not your fault, Aunt. Please. You may speak freely about that fact that I am unmarriageable without feeling any guilt. It is a fact. I have accepted it.” She forced a laugh. It sounded hollow and contrived. “Besides, from what I know of Fitzwilliam Darcy, he would not have lowered himself to marry me even if Lydia had not done what she did.”
Mrs. Gardiner frowned. “He certainly appeared to hold you in high esteem from what I saw.”
Lizzy smiled. It was true, was it not? At least, it had been. Despite his pride, had he not proposed marriage to her before? If only she had known then what was to happen in a few short months! She had admonished herself time and time again for being so outraged on Wickham’s behalf.
“Perhaps he did at one time. He is a friend of Mr. Bingley, you see; the gentleman who leased—”
“I know who Mr. Bingley is,” Mrs. Gardiner interrupted. “After all, your sister came and stayed with us for months after his departure. Believe me; I have heard much about Mr. Bingley after your sister took me into her confidence.”
If her uncle had not been there, Elizabeth might have shared the truth about Darcy’s involvement in his friend’s departure. Perhaps. So much time had passed since then that her outrage had diminished. After all, had Darcy not had good reason to act? In the end, he had saved Bingley from involvement in a scandal.
She looked up and found Mrs. Gardiner watching her intently. “Perhaps he once held me in high regard. He is an interesting gentleman. His aunt resides in Kent near Charlotte Collins and her husband. I encountered him there as well as at Longbourn.”
“Ah,” Mrs. Gardiner said, leaning her head back and sounding more exasperated than Elizabeth had ever heard her. “It is a shame that Lydia did what she did. She has not only ruined her own chances but yours and Jane’s. If only she had thought before she acted so impulsively.”
Elizabeth took her aunt’s hand. “Please. We must try to put it to the back of our minds. It does none of us any good to reflect on what happened. After all, how are we to change what has happened in the past? The answer is—and always has been—that we cannot. I am tired of wondering what might have come to pass if Lydia had not run away. After all, if she had not done it then, it is likely she would have escaped with the next fine featured gentleman who paid her any small amount of attention.”
“It is a catastrophe none the less, regardless of how brave a face you put on.”
“I am not brave! I have spent more than a year dwelling on it. In truth, the carriage journey north was an escape. I expect it has benefitted my health to no end by distancing me from all that has gone on. So please do not worry about me. The mere act of removing me from Hertfordshire is a tonic in itself.”
But Madeline Gardiner was not comforted. She stroked her niece’s hair and shook her head. “This is why you wished to leave. That is the truth of it. And I pushed you to stay and consequently forced you to encounter Mr. Darcy. Oh, I am truly sorry. If you wish to, we can leave at once.”
“It is too late for that, Madeline,” her husband objected. “The horses will be stabled by now. It will be another hour at the least by the time we find another inn and settle down to dine.”
But his wife would not be deterred. “What of it? It was always our plan to travel north as quickly as possible.”
He stared at her in disbelief. “It was your idea to stop here for the night.”
“I make a mistake. I acknowledge that.”
“The horses are tired. They must rest.”
“They are horses. They are supposed to be driven. Come. If we leave now, we will eat sooner than if we stay here and debate endlessly.”
“Madeline, you were the one who wished to remain here.”
“That was before I realised why our niece was so eager to leave.”
He looked blank.
Elizabeth was relieved that he had not paid any heed to their rather fraught conversation. Even so, Mrs. Gardiner was now so adamant that they should leave she worried that worried that the dear woman might abandon her usual expression to outline her reasoning in even balder terms.
She could not stand to hear it mentioned even once more. It was too painful.
“There is no need to leave on my account,” she said before either of her relations could speak again. “Darcy was leaving for his estate. I doubt he shall be back. In any case, his presence is no reason for us to leave. He is a perfectly polite gentleman and we were acquainted briefly at Longbourn and again last year in Kent.”
Her aunt did not appear convinced by this, but to her credit she said nothing.
A small ray of hope inside Elizabeth had crumpled. She had not even really been aware of how much she had clung to the silly notion that Darcy was different to everyone else she had ever met. Now she realised how deeply she had held that belief, all the while telling herself it was simply an indulgent little fantasy.
She had seen the truth. Darcy had been perfectly polite. He had even kept his disdain from his face. But she had seen the truth. He had made no move to invite them to see his estate. He had hurried away from them as quickly as he could.
She smiled to herself. Even after acknowledging all that, it still saddened her to think that they would never again cross paths.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Darcy ground his teeth. He had considered leaving his carriage at the inn but decided against it. After all, he needed these poachers to see that he was the owner of the estate; a man with the wealth and means to remove them if they did not comply with his order to leave.
Now he wished he had travelled there on horseback. Riding always cleared his mind of what was bothering him, and he needed that clarity now more than ever.
He should have been thinking about how he was going to rid his estate of those men who had
impudently considered it their right to loot and steal from his tenants.
He could not focus on those grave offences. Not while his mind was consumed by thoughts of Miss Elizabeth Bennet.
It was infuriating! He needed this time to concentrate on how to best to deal with the trespassers. All he could think of was her.
Against his wishes, he replayed their short conversation over and over in his mind. She had turned down his proposal, but even that fact did little to stop him.
He recalled what had been said. Not just Elizabeth’s words but her aunt and uncle’s too. What had they said? They were touring Scotland and had stopped at the inn. That was it. He had been so surprised that it was only when he had left them that he had realised he did not know whether they were going north or travelling south to return home.
One thing he did know was that that village was not the sort of place that travellers remained for more than a day, if that. It was picturesque, he supposed, but there was little to do and it was indistinguishable from the neighbouring villages. No, he did not doubt that they would be gone soon after first light the next day. He did not know in which direction.
“Blast it,” he muttered to himself. “I was so surprised to see her that I did not think to inquire about their plans.”
“What’s that, sir?” the driver shouted.
Darcy had squeezed alongside the man so that he could see the approach to the estate. It would not do to sit inside the carriage given its restricted outlook.
“Nothing.” He might have ordered the man to call back the men so that he could take one of the faster horses and go on ahead, but they were too close to the Darcy Estate to risk it. The trespassers might hear the horn and realise that trouble was on the way. He preferred to surprise them.
They rode on. It took all of Darcy’s considerable willpower to focus on the problem at hand. They reached the fork in the road and found Burns, the Darcy Estate’s steward, waiting for them on horseback as they had planned.
The carriage driver slowed and Burns rode alongside them.
“Where are they?”
“Still at the copse beside the loch.”
“How many?”
“Ten.”
“I see. Have you watched them as I instructed?”
“Yes, from a distance. It appears one of them is the leader. A tall man. Broad. Thick black beard and dirty cap.”
“Very well,” Darcy muttered. He had a plan in mind. It had changed considerably from the one he had formulated on the journey up from Derbyshire, but he felt he had little choice but to change it.
He had planned to reason with the men, firmly but fairly. Now he had changed his mind. He wanted them gone from his land and he did not care how that goal was achieved so long as he could return to that inn as quickly as possible.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
He ordered the driver to stop. He had intended to drive the carriage all the way to the encampment, but the ground was too soft and boggy to take the weight of the carriage. It was big and old and had been around since his father’s time. Darcy preferred to travel in smaller carriages without a driver, but he had to consider his sister’s comfort on the journey north.
He jumped down from the carriage and immediately mounted Burns’s horse. The man would linger beside the carriage and await Darcy’s return. He had no need of him when he had nineteen men to assist. They had gathered a small distance away in a formation like that adopted by flying swallows.
Darcy rode swiftly to them, relishing the feeling of being on horseback. It was like a tonic to him, though it did little to clear his mind of Miss Elizabeth Bennet’s face.
“This is not the time to dwell on Miss Elizabeth,” he muttered to himself, not worried about being overheard—not with the roaring wind and drizzle that had hung over them ever since they left the inn.
He reached his men and stopped a little way ahead of the man in front.
He had no doubt that the trespassers would have heard the approach despite the softness of the land. They would if they were in any way trained, at least, and he doubted that they were. Still, it was never wise to presume. For all he knew, they might have come from one of the militia regiments that had sprung up around England in recent times, ostensibly to protect the population while the regular army was at war, but often driven by more selfish factors.
He signalled to the men and they all rode off, heading for the copse that was still out of sight.
***
The camp was an ugly blot on his beloved estate. It was rudimentary in every way; a row of untidy shacks made carelessly from branches that were not uniform in size. The roof was made from thinner branches with drying leaves still attached. They were young trees, planted on his orders.
Anger rose up within him. They had not just sought to make his estate their home without permission or payment, but they had cut down his trees as if it was their right.
He rode hard, aiming first for the camp and then for the dark-haired man in the cap when he saw him.
“What is the meaning of this?”
Deep blue eyes stared up at him. There was nothing in them. No fear; no insolence. Not even curiosity.
“Speak man, before I lose my patience.”
This made his adversary smile. “Calm yourself, Sassenach.”
“I will not! You are trespassing on my estate. Remove yourself immediately or my men will escort you.”
“And what if we do not want to?”
“They will do it one way or the other; by force if necessary.”
The man lifted something to his mouth. Darcy saw it was a rabbit’s hindquarters, still raw. He turned away.
This made the man laugh heartily. “Are you afraid of a little meat, Sassenach? What right do you have to own this land if you cannot even stomach the food that grows on it?”
Under normal circumstances, Darcy might have spoken to the man and chided him for his impertinence. Darcy had a poor opinion of such lazy vagrants, especially those who stole from others and drank ale on accounts that would never be paid.
Now, though, he was weary. The longer he engaged with this ruffian, the longer it would be before he could turn his mind to more pleasant things, like Miss Bennet.
He had made a promise to her that he would never burden her with his feelings again. And he had kept that promise. But what if…
“You are hesitating. Do not tell me you are frightened.” By now a semi-circle of other dishevelled-looking men had come out of the frightful huts to see what was happening.
Darcy frowned. These were no more fighters than they were hunters. They had taken advantage of his tenants’ dwindling numbers and unwillingness to fight. But it was not just them he was dealing with: he needed to ensure that others like them would not seek to loiter on his land having heard he was too gentle to remove them.
His previous plan had been wrong—he saw that now.
“I am not,” he said calmly. “I have said all I need to say. Leave immediately, or my men will remove you.”
“We aren’t afraid of a bunch of soft Englishmen.”
“No? Well you must be afraid of muskets. Logic would suggest that you must be.”
The air shifted behind him and he knew it was muskets being raised and pointed at the intruders. Darcy smiled to himself. Whatever happened next would be spoken about in distant taverns and gambling hells for many months to come. It was vital that he give them something to speak about and ensure none of them even considered making a second attempt to intrude on his estate.
“You have taken up enough of my time,” he said coldly. “My men have instructions to shoot if need be. I will allow you two choices: accompany us to the carriage and be escorted far away from here. Do not even consider repeating the thievery you have displayed here.”
Fear flitted through the big man’s eyes for the first time, but he stood stubbornly in front of Darcy. “Or what?”
“Or we shall shoot you down now.”
“You wouldn’t dare!
Not even a lord can murder.” There was no mockery in his tone now, though, and the men behind him had begun to distance themselves from their leader.
“Perhaps not,” Darcy said solemnly. “But that rather depends on whether he is caught. This estate is vast, as I am sure you have seen. There are hectares of forest. Not to mention boglands. I should think you will not be discovered for a very long time if you were to disappear into one of those pits.”
***
The ten men had readily agreed to be locked in the carriage and taken wherever Darcy wished. He yearned to return to Miss Bennet and he doubted that his captives would put up a fight when they were released—not when faced with nineteen fierce young men with muskets.
Even so, Darcy accompanied the procession as they rode north. He had no intention of murdering them, of course. But the threat had been necessary to comply. They rode for more than three hours, up over a high pass and to the other side of a sizeable town. Only then did Darcy decide that they had reached a place where the men could be freed. There were closer villages and towns, but he did not want those men anywhere near his estate and tenants.
It was dark by the time he returned to the estate. Burns was surprised when Darcy dismounted his horse and called for a carriage to be readied. He had ridden on ahead of the carriage as soon as freed their captives. He had soon lost sight of the other men. It would be at least an hour before the other carriage would return.
“Sir? Do you not wish to turn in for the night? Your sister is probably asleep by now.”
He said nothing. What was there to say? The truth was he was not thinking of Georgiana at all. He was remembering the circumstances of his encounter with Miss Elizabeth.
He had assumed that she and her relations were staying at that inn for the night, but he had realised with a start somewhere on the way home that he had no reason for thinking that. After all, they might have stopped to eat before continuing on. It had been very early when he saw them.
The Darcy Estate Page 4
