by Kara Louise
Elizabeth nodded silently in agreement and walked back to the sitting room. When she came to the door, she peeked in. Rachel was sitting next to another young girl about her age, and they were talking. She seemed distracted, at least for now. Chances were, however, that she would worry about her cat as long as they were here.
Elizabeth walked down the length of the hall to see if there was anyone else who looked like they needed someone to talk to. There was no one in the hallway, and as most of the doors were closed, she did not feel that she should disturb the occupants. She reached the end of the hallway and was just about to turn around when the doors to the courtyard burst open. She stepped back quickly as a tall figure, drenched from the rain, strode in.
The man was looking down, holding his coat tightly about him, a cape covering his head. He glanced up just as he was about to collide into Elizabeth. “Miss Bennet!”
Elizabeth could not prevent a laugh from escaping as she found herself looking into Mr. Darcy’s dark eyes. “Mr. Darcy?”
He pulled the cape down with one hand, keeping his other secured across the front of his coat. Water ran down his face and dripped from his hair. “How is everyone faring?” he asked.
“I have only just arrived, but I believe Mrs. Reynolds and the servants have everyone well settled.”
At that moment a sound came from underneath Mr. Darcy’s coat.
“Why, Mr. Darcy!” Elizabeth laughed as she looked up at him with wide eyes. “I do believe your coat just meowed!”
The look of fatigue and concern melted into a smile. “And because of that, I need a little help,” he said as he struggled to unbutton his coat with his free hand. As his coat fell open, Elizabeth saw that he held a cat, wrapped snugly in a scarf so she would not scratch him. The poor thing was frantically trying to wiggle out. “There is a little girl here, a Miss Weber…”
Without thinking, Elizabeth gently reached in to pet the cat’s head. “Hello, Misty. Be still now, will you?” She looked up at him, her eyes warm with appreciation. “I spoke with little Rachel, and she told me about Misty.” She reached in and wrapped her hands around the cat, becoming suddenly mindful of what she was doing. Her cheeks warmed in a blush. For a brief moment she lost all ability to think what she ought to do, and allowed her hands to linger in the warmth of his chest.
A sharp intake of breath drew her eyes up to Mr. Darcy’s face. Dark eyes and lowered brows met her.
She had to will her hands to leave their place of sanctuary in order to retrieve the cat. To disguise the feelings that his presence stirred within her, she looked back at the cat and asked with a nervous laugh, “Are you Misty? I certainly hope so!”
She could only see the cat’s face, but readily saw that she was grey with a little white around her nose.
Casting her eyes down as she felt a blush stain her cheeks, she told him, “Rachel has been terribly worried.”
“Well, this better be Misty,” Darcy answered in a somewhat stilted voice. “Otherwise I climbed that tree for nothing!”
“You climbed a tree?” she asked incredulously, looking back up and meeting a contented grin. She was grateful that the awkward moment had passed. “Certainly you did no such thing!”
“I most certainly did! That girl practically refused to leave until we found the cat. The waters were rapidly approaching her house, and they could delay no longer. After they departed, I was trying to keep my horse to higher, dry ground and heard a meow. It was coming from a tree down an embankment whose base was about five inches in water. The poor thing would have been stranded until the waters receded. If she tried to come down, she would surely have drowned. So I jumped off my horse and climbed up to get her. I think she was more than anxious to get down, but in order to bring her back here, it was necessary for me to wrap her up securely in a scarf so she would not scratch me.” He reached over and scratched the cat’s head. “For reasons beyond my comprehension, she did not like being stuffed under my coat!”
Elizabeth tilted her head and laughed, not sure whether to believe him. It was so unlike what she would have expected from Mr. Darcy, yet his face revealed genuine sincerity.
He gave her a hopeful smile. “I certainly hope this is Misty.”
Elizabeth was able to reassure him. “Rachel told me she is a grey cat with a white nose, just like this one. I do believe, Mr. Darcy, that you shall be her hero.” She brought her hand up again to scratch the cat’s forehead. Misty soon began purring. “Do you mind if I take her to Rachel? I promised her I would.”
“Certainly, but do not let Mrs. Reynolds see you with it. When she gets too close to cats her eyes and nose run, and she becomes completely bad-tempered. She thinks it is an offence to even entertain the thought of keeping an animal in the house. Make certain Miss Weber keeps the cat locked in her room. I do not want it roaming the halls. I will see to it that they get what they need for the cat.” He spoke with resolute brusqueness.
“Yes, sir,” Elizabeth said. “Is there anything else?”
Darcy closed his eyes and shook his head. “Pray forgive me, Miss Bennet. I have been barking orders all morning to ensure a smooth transition. I did not mean to…”
“You have no need to apologize, sir. You have done so much.”
She turned to leave, but Mr. Darcy called to her. “A moment, Miss Bennet. There is something else, if you would bear with me.”
“Yes?”
His eyes darkened. “You did not come to the drawing room last night.”
Elizabeth bit her lip as she determined what to say. “No, sir. I was unable to.”
“Why?” His question was uttered with the same fervency as his earlier demands had been.
Elizabeth swallowed to moisten her mouth. She could not bring herself to look up at him. “I cannot say.”
His brows lowered at this. “You will be there tonight?”
Elizabeth cast her eyes down, shaking her head slowly. “I am sorry, sir, but I cannot.”
She heard him take several breaths. “Tell me why.”
She looked up into pleading eyes. “I am… I am the Willstones’ governess. They do not deem it proper.” She saw his lips press tightly together and his jaw clench.
After a moment he said, “You are my guest, and I have invited you to join us in the drawing room.”
Elizabeth smiled, more out of unease than pleasure. “I beg to differ, sir. I am not your guest. The Willstones and Miss Matthews are your guests. I am employed as a governess to the Willstones’ daughter, and therefore I answer to them and their wishes.”
Her quick curtsey was met with a scowl. Elizabeth turned to find Rachel and return her cat to her, her heart wishing fervently that her circumstances were different.
***
The rains continued for the remainder of the day and night, letting up only intermittently. The next day was spent as the others had been, allowing Emily time with the Goldsmith girls and then Elizabeth working with her on her studies and music.
Throughout the day, however, a fluttering deep within intruded as Elizabeth pondered whether she would see Mr. Darcy in the north wing when she went down again today. The Willstones may have forbidden her to join the others in the drawing room in the evening, but as they were not inclined to associate with Pemberley’s tenants, she felt this was the one place she could encounter Mr. Darcy and not risk anyone’s censure if she conversed with him. But would he be there?
At length while Emily napped, Elizabeth again went down to the north wing and walked in to find very few people about. She greeted some that were in the sitting room, asking how they were faring. She looked for Rachel, but did not see her and assumed she was inside their room playing with her cat.
She spoke with a few more people and, upon discerning that there was nothing else she could do, reluctantly decided to leave. She saw neither Georgiana nor Mrs. Reynolds, but her greatest disappointment was that Mr. Darcy did not stop in.
She walked through the doors that took her to the main hou
se and heard a commotion coming from the far end of the south hall. As she walked closer, she saw two men walk into the infirmary. Mr. Darcy walked toward her with a rather harried look upon his face. He stopped, breathing heavily from exertion.
“Mr. Darcy, is something wrong?” Elizabeth asked.
He placed his two hands firmly on her shoulders. Looking at her intently, he asked, “Do you faint at the sight of blood?”
She did not interpret his gesture as a sign of affection or his feelings. From the intense look on his face, she deemed it more a response to something that had happened. “I never have before,” she answered. “What is it?”
“Come with me,” he said, releasing her shoulders but grasping one of her hands firmly in his as he turned toward the infirmary. She had no option but to follow.
As they walked down the hall, his strides were long and hurried. To keep up with him, Elizabeth took several steps to his one. “What has happened?” she asked again.
At the sound of her voice, he seemed to relax slightly, his grip loosening and his stride slowing. Turning his head, he answered, “There has been an accident.”
When they came to the infirmary door, he stopped. He gazed down at her hand, and she thought he gave it a gentle squeeze, but kept it firmly in his. “Mr. Hamilton has been injured.”
Her eyes widened in concern, but she found it difficult to tend to his words when she was aware solely of her hand enveloped in his. “Is it… serious?”
Mr. Darcy shook his head. “He will survive. His arm and shoulder were cut by some rocks. It is messy. I have sent for a doctor, but I can use your help until he arrives.” His eyes searched hers as he waited for an answer.
“I will do what I can.”
“I know you will.” He paused and pressed his lips tightly together before continuing. “Miss Bennet, I do not want word of this spreading. There is already enough concern about our being out there.”
“I understand.” Elizabeth felt a strong reference to Rosalyn in his admonition. Her fears had come to fruition, although it had not been Mr. Darcy who injured himself, but Mr. Hamilton.
“Good.” He took in a deep breath. “Please do not think ill of me for asking you to help me with this. Many of our maidservants would not do well with this type of injury. In addition to having much more to do in caring for the tenants, I did not wish to impose on them, Mrs. Reynolds, or my sister.”
“I do not mind.”
He nodded slowly as he looked down briefly at their hands before finally releasing hers. He exhaled slowly. She felt he was going to say something and waited, looking at his face expectantly. She saw conflict in his face as he furrowed his brow and clenched his jaw. Finally, he said, “Let us go in, then.”
They waited no longer and entered the room. Mr. Hamilton was lying on the bed; a servant Elizabeth recognized from around Pemberley was pressing tightly against a cloth that extended from his upper arm to his shoulder. The servant nodded at Darcy and Elizabeth.
Hamilton peered up at them, grimacing at the movement, but it was quickly replaced by a weak smile. “Miss Bennet, have you come to nurse me back to health?”
Elizabeth walked over to him, glancing briefly at his bloodstained shirt. “I assume this was not another struggle with a fish!”
Hamilton laughed. “Unfortunately it was another rock!”
Elizabeth turned to Darcy. “What shall I do?”
He pointed to some clean, dry cloths and a basin of water. “I will need you to clean the wound. Mr. Peyton, here, is tightly applying pressure to help stop the flow.”
As she walked over to soak some cloths, she asked what happened.
“I was probably taking my horse too quickly down an embankment, and he tumbled, throwing me against some rocks.”
“Probably?” Darcy said incredulously. “You definitely were taking your horse too quickly down a mud-filled, water-laden, unstable hillside.”
“How did the horse fare?” Elizabeth asked teasingly.
“Better than me!” Hamilton said. He turned to his cousin. “I am grateful you are here, Miss Bennet, for Darcy shows me no sympathy.”
Elizabeth returned with the cloths, lifting an eyebrow at Mr. Hamilton at his comment. The servant let up pressure to allow Elizabeth the ability to cleanse the area around the gash. When he did, an excessive flow of blood poured out, causing Elizabeth to sway unsteadily. Her head began to spin when strong hands suddenly gripped her shoulders… again.
“Miss Bennet?”
“I am sorry, Mr. Darcy,” she said as she took in some deep breaths. “I did not expect it to be so…”
His face was close to hers, his eyes searching. “Pray forgive me, Miss Bennet. I should not have put you through this.”
Elizabeth waved her hand in the air. “No, no, I am well. Now.”
She took in another deep breath as she turned back to the wound and began to clean it. Her heart pounded so violently she wondered whether Mr. Darcy could hear it. He released her shoulders and walked over to a cupboard. As she saw the extent of the wound, she imagined that the doctor would be required to suture it to keep it closed.
Darcy brought over a bottle and held it over the wound. She looked up questioningly.
“Alcohol,” he said. “If you can wash away more of the blood, I will then pour this over the wound.”
They worked together well, Elizabeth savouring the close, caring presence of Mr. Darcy. While his cousin teased about how uncaring Darcy was, she knew that indeed he was caring and that his cousin truly appreciated him. Darcy often looked up at Elizabeth and in quiet admiration nodded in thanks.
When she inquired about the condition of the tenants’ homes, they told her that one home was in imminent danger of being flooded, but the men had been working tenaciously to divert the waters by digging trenches and building up barricades with mud and trees, which they hoped would hold as the waters approached. She also found out that the man who they presumed had been swept away was found unharmed.
When the doctor finally arrived, he ordered everyone out of the room except, of course, Mr. Hamilton and Mr. Darcy. Elizabeth walked to the door, and just as she was about to step out, she heard the familiar sound of Mr. Darcy’s voice call out her name.
“Miss Bennet,” he said softly.
She turned toward him. “Yes?”
“Thank you,” he told her. “I could not have done it without you.”
She smiled in acknowledgement of his words and walked out. For the first time since arriving here, she thought their day of departure would come too quickly.
Chapter 19
It had been two days since the families had sought refuge at Pemberley, and the rains finally let up, the sun making a most welcomed appearance. Everyone was delighted that the prospect of returning home was near, but they would need to wait until the waters of the river receded a great deal before it was deemed safe enough.
Mr. Hamilton remained in his room, healing nicely from his wounds. Everyone had been told he was merely not feeling well, but it was expected that he would be recovered soon. As Mr. Darcy had first relayed this news at the breakfast table the day following the accident, he stole a knowing glance at Elizabeth. She returned a sly smile at his pretence of an excuse for his cousin’s absence.
That afternoon, as the sun poured its rays through the windows, Elizabeth felt a gaiety and a joy that she had not felt in quite a few days. Each time she passed a window, she gazed out, feeling the warmth of the sun on her face, and eagerly anticipated exploring Pemberley’s magnificent grounds. They had less than a week remaining, and while she knew practically every inch of Pemberley’s house, save for one very private hall, she still wished to explore the splendid grounds.
That day while Emily napped, Elizabeth made her daily visit to the families in the north wing. As she opened the doors to the wing, she stepped through and found everyone hustling about. There was much excitement.
It was joyous confusion, and someone mentioned to her that they
had just received word they would likely be able to return to their homes tomorrow afternoon. Before she could even utter a word expressing her delight, she heard a shriek, and the sound of little footsteps racing down the hall captured Elizabeth’s attention.
It was Rachel, and just as the little girl was about to collide into her, Elizabeth reached down and lovingly grasped her shoulders. “What is it, little one?” she asked.
“Look out!” she squealed. “There goes Misty!”
Elizabeth turned around abruptly, seeing the grey cat slither out the door through which she just entered. “Wait here, Rachel. I will go after her!”
Elizabeth stepped out the door and closed it behind her before moving into the hall. She turned, hoping to see where the cat went. She looked across the hall that led to the playroom and saw nothing. She turned her eyes down the main hall to her left. She caught a brief glimpse of Misty scampering around the far corner. Elizabeth walked as quickly as she could, calling the cat’s name. When she came to the corner, she turned and again looked around. Her heart pounded as she considered that the cat may have gone into any room, which would certainly cause more than a little disruption.
A slight movement caught her attention, and she looked up to see Misty going up the stairs. “Oh, no!” Elizabeth said softly and let out a frustrated sigh. She saw no one to ask for help, so she kept following the cat, calling her name softly.
“Misty, here, kitty! Here, kitty!” The cat stopped at the top of the stairs and looked down as if to see whether she was still being followed. Elizabeth stopped her movement and gently called her. “Come here, Misty.” Leaning over, she held out her hand, as if fingering some delectable morsel. Misty looked at her for a brief moment, and then turned and ran off again. She watched in dismay as the cat disappeared around the corner that led to Mr. Darcy’s private chambers.
“Oh, no!” Elizabeth’s eyes widened as her heart pounded mercilessly.
When Elizabeth reached the top of the stairs, she was out of breath and quite distressed. She knew Mrs. Reynolds would not be happy about a cat loose in the house. She also knew that venturing down this hall was completely forbidden to her. She stood at the corner of the hall looking down and debated what she ought to do.
