“Might we give you a ride back to the parsonage, Miss Bennet? The day has been traumatic for us all and I am certain my cousin would be more comfortable should you join him in the back.”
“Very well.”
His cousin smiled before handing her into the back of the pony cart and then climbing onto the front bench to drive. With a flick of his wrists, the cart jerked forward before settling into a fairly easy ride. Enough padding was provided so that Darcy’s leg was fully supported, and he rested his head on Elizabeth’s lap.
He noted that Richard’s daffodils were gone, but the chain of daisies remained on her wrist, gladdening his heart.
Darcy loved her. There would never be anyone else for him but her. Cursing himself for leaving Netherfield Park, for not waiting until Elizabeth recovered, he vowed not to live his lifewith any more regrets when it came to her. He would do everything in his power to make things right with Bingley and Jane Bennet. He would write to her father to warn the residents of Meryton about Wickham’s propensity for causing damage. Then, he would pursue her to the ends of the Earth, if needed, until she fell as deeply in love with him as he was with her.
“Miss Elizabeth, I need to tell you something of critical importance. Please, would you lean closer?”
Their eyes met. When she was close enough that only she might hear, he whispered, “I wish…I wish that you would love me.”
Despite the misery that shot through him with every turn of the wheel, Elizabeth’s lovely lips parted, and her fine eyes opened wide. She gave him hope.
Upon returningto the parsonage after his accident, Charlotte warned her that Lady Catherine would likely refuse to invite guests to Rosings Park if Mr. Darcy’s wounds kept him bedridden. Her friend’s words were prophetic since Elizabeth returned to Jane in London without news of Mr. Darcy. The colonel did not even come to the parsonage to inform them of his cousin’s progress. The day prior to Elizabeth’s departure, one of the maids happened to overhear a remark indicating that Mr. Darcy suffered from a high fever caused by an infection. The colonel remained at his cousin’s side, as did his aunt, which was where they needed to be.
Had Mr. Darcy felt these same worries when he left Hertfordshire after her fall? Did he wonder if she made good progress in healing? Had he been as frantic as she was? If so, then his relief at discovering her in good health in Kent wouldhave lifted his spirits. Was that why he sought her out on the walking trails? She had so many questions and no one to supply the answers.
8
July 1812 - Derbyshire
Four long months passed since Elizabeth was in Kent. Almost daily, she asked herself what Mr. Darcy could have possibly meant when he said he wished she loved him. Was he so grateful for her comforting care that he imagined himself besotted? Was that the cognac talking? Or could he be seriously inclined toward her?
After she had returned to Longbourn, she was barely able to eat. Sleep was impossible. Each time she closed her eyes, the sound of the wood breaking under his weight woke her in fright.
As the days passed without any news, Elizabeth took it upon herself to warn her father about Mr. Wickham. She spared any personal details, only suggesting that her father inquire amongst the shop owners as to any uncollected debts that could leave local businesses in distress when the militia left for their next assignment. The results were as Mr. Darcy reported. Tales of loose living and debauchery guaranteed that the officers would no longer be welcome at Longbourn, much to Elizabeth’s happiness and her younger sister’s displeasure. The engagement between Mr. Wickham and Miss Mary King was terminated.
During the ensuing months, she scoured the gossip columns, hoping they reported Mr. Darcy’s reemergence into society. Nothing. Fortunately, there was also no mention of Mr. Bingley’s attaching himself to someone other than Jane. Had Mr. Darcy been able to speak with his friend?
Elizabeth just wanted to know something. Anything!
She heard from Charlotte only once, exactly two weeks after Elizabeth left Kent. Charlotte duly reported that the colonel removed Mr. Darcy from Rosings Park to his London house for treatment from the Fitzwilliam family physician and surgeon. What followed was a list of complaints to Charlotte from Lady Catherine about her nephew’s absence since she considered herself an authority on everything, even wound care. Mr. Collins was frustrated that his patroness did not trust him with news of the happenings of her household. Elizabeth was ashamed to admit that she felt the same.
If only someone,anyone,would let her know about Mr. Darcy.
The opportunity finally came when Edward and Madeline Gardiner arrived at Longbourn.
“Come with us to Derbyshire, Lizzy. We will tour the Peaks and Lakes before traveling to Lambton, where I was raised. We can tour some of the great houses like Chatsworth, Matlock, and Pemberley. Do say you will come.”
Elizabeth could not believe the offer was being made to her instead of Jane. Before her uncle Gardiner could change his mind, she replied, “Yes, I would be happy to accompany you and uncle.”
Edward and Madelaine Gardiner were excellent people. As the younger brother of Elizabeth’s mother, he understood the chaos reigning in Longbourn’s parlor. Over the years, they often had the two eldest accompany them on their travels. This time, Jane would remain behind to care for the Gardiner’s fourchildren. Elizabeth would finally have an opportunity to discover what happened to Mr. Darcy.
In truth, nightly, she dreamed of him, striding purposefully toward the Gardiner’s carriage, extending his hand to assist her from the conveyance. Or he would see her strolling Pemberley’s gardens from a distance, kick his horse to a gallop to join her, slide from its back, and warmly welcome her and her family to his estate.
She hoped her dreams were real.
When she asked the servant at the inn in Lambton whether the Darcy family was in residence, the only reply she received was a “No, ma’am.”
Elizabeth lived for four months with anxiety bearing down upon her. Of course, she excused her concern as being Christian kindness, treating others as you would have them treat you. Nothing more. It was not as if she was in love with him or anything. Impossible!
Elizabeth scoffed. Only to herself did she admit that she cared about what happened to Mr. Darcy. But how much did she care? Did she love him like he had asked? She simply could not say.
Tying the dark blue ribbons under her bonnet, she donned her gloves. Within the next thirty minutes, she would see Pemberley. At last. Her aunt Maddie was just as eager to see the estate but for entirely different reasons.
“Lizzy, I have not been to Pemberley since my father sold his apothecary business to Mr. Smythe the year before I married your uncle. Although we were all impressed with Chatsworth, Pemberley is equally grand, or maybe grander. Of the Darcys themselves, I have never met the son or daughter. However, I was in company with Mr. and Mrs. Darcy on several occasions and observed the conduct of their son. When Papa attended to Mrs. Darcy during her illness, she always made me feelwelcome. Her son, the present Mr. Darcy, was at least a decade younger than me. Yet, he was a polite boy. Very quiet. And very concerned about his poor Mama. Once a year after the harvest, the Darcy’s hosted a celebration. The whole community was invited. There was music and dancing, games for the children, plenty of food, and gifts for everyone. In fact, I think I still have a doll I received from Mrs. Darcy when I was about eight years old. I think it is in a box in the attic. I shall need to check when we return to London. My memories of this place are pleasant.”
