Darcy raised his chin before coolly replying, “How I learned of Miss Bennet is immaterial. And as for where I stayed last evening, I took up residence in grandfather’s old hunting lodge at the far end of the property.” He nodded and strode to the door. “Now if you will excuse me, I must go and attend to my guest.”
This bit of information seemed to have no effect on his cousin who picked up the scarf. “I suggest you wait.”
“It is of little consequence to me what you suggest. I must go and see to my guest.”
Richard said, “Is this your scarf, Darce?”
He stopped abruptly and turned with exasperation. “What?”
“This scarf. Do you recognize it?” He asked holding up the bright red and green tartan. “We found it in the snow with Miss Bennet.”
“Then it is most likely hers, Richard. Now if you will excuse me.”
“No, it is not, Darcy.” He interrupted his cousin’s retreat.
“Then who does it belong to? I imagine there is something to this story you are not divulging to me.”
Richard smiled—a sad, slow smile. “There is, Darce. You see, this scarf belongs to me.”
“Belongs to you? I would like to remind you it would be highly improper to have imposed upon her with a gift.”
Richard smiled at the irony of Darcy’s words. “You are correct, Cousin. That would indeed be highly improper and could damage her reputation irretrievably. However, I did not give this to her. She took it.”
Darcy visibly started and took two steps toward his cousin. “You cannot be serious. Are you accusing Miss Bennet of stealing your personal belongings?”
“In a manner of speaking, yes.”
“And when, Richard? When would she have had an opportunity to travel to Matlock House and go through your possessions to procure said scarf? This is absurd! Enough with your tales. I must see to Miss Bennet! If you will excuse me!” He turned for the second time in as many minutes toward the door. He only made it a few steps however, when Richard’s words halted him.
“It was not at Matlock House, Darcy. I left this particular scarf with my mother’s tartan, the scarf my mother’s brother, the Duke of Lennox, gave to me—I left this scarf at your grandfather’s hunting lodge in August when I came to hunt grouse.”
Darcy’s voice was small. “The hunting lodge?”
“Yes.”
“And you are certain?” His shoulders sagged with the weight of his cousin’s words.
“Yes. I believe, Cousin, we have need for more conversation.”
* * *
Anne sat quietlywith Georgiana and Miss Katherine in Miss Elizabeth’s room as the shadows of the day stretched, finally disappearing as the maids lit the candles. Anne knew each had their own reasons for keeping vigil and she admitted to herself that Elizabeth Bennet was her only chance to convince her cousin to marry for love so she might do the same.
“It appears almost time to dress for dinner. I will let Mrs. Reynolds know I will take a tray here…” said Georgiana with little energy.
“As will I,” said Miss Katherine.
“And I,” echoed Anne.
Each woman looked at the other and smiled when there came a knock at the door.
“Come,” Georgiana said and her brother entered the room.
Georgiana rushed to him as her tears began to fall. “Oh, Wills. Did you here what happened? Do you believe Elizabeth will be well?”
“There, there, Sprout,” he said, smoothing Georgiana’s hair. “Richard said the doctor expects a full recovery. And that she was not unconscious from her fall, but likely from exhaustion and the cold.” He stared at the sleeping figure and his eyes darted away when he saw Anne studying him.
“Yes,” Anne said, placing her hand on Miss Katherine’s shoulder as she had begun to weep. “She will be fine and needs only time to rest.”
