Elizabeth felt her heart swell with quiet affection for her husband.
“Colonel,” she said softly, “I believe you love this Miss Lewis. I hope her love for you has endured through all the ensuing years and the delays and obstacles.”
They had just stepped from under the shadow of the rock wall when Darcy appeared, striding toward them, his face troubled.
“Sir, what is it?” Elizabeth asked at once. “Is Mrs. Hurst unwell?”
Darcy shook his head. “No, she is well. But I have received disturbing news.” He looked from one to the other. “Caroline Bingley has left her husband and his family and has thrown herself into the power of a footman. She may be on her way here.”
Elizabeth gasped. “To Pemberley? But why?”
Darcy’s face hardened. “She must be mad. They believe she is coming here to me.”
All three were struck silent. At last, Elizabeth found her voice. “Fitzwilliam, she cannot remain here with us. She hates me.”
Darcy crossed the space between them and gathered her into his arms. “It is well, Elizabeth. She cannot harm you here.”
She pressed against him. “She has made my name a byword in Hertfordshire, exposed me to censure and derision, and now she travels to Pemberley to do the same among my servants and neighbors, in a place where I had hoped to pass myself off with some degree of credit.”
“No,” he said firmly. “No indeed. She will not spend even one night here. If she dares to come to Pemberley, I shall send her away at once, in my own carriage if need be, with the Miller brothers to escort her to the Royal Crown in Lambton. She maylodge there for the night, and then she shall return to Selby, to the uncle who failed to manage her.”
“But she will not be removed before she has presented herself at our very door, before our guests, and created a scene. No, Fitzwilliam, I cannot bear the suspense of wondering if she will come, or when she will appear. Will it be at luncheon, while we are all seated at table, or in the evening, when Georgiana is performing, and our guests are gathered together, giving her the perfect audience for her theatrics?”
He ran his hand gently down her back and drew her closer. “No, my darling, do not think it. She may not be coming to Pemberley at all; it is only her uncle’s conjecture for now.”
Elizabeth said nothing. Her silence unsettled him. Darcy exchanged a concerned glance with Richard, then looked down at her.
“Elizabeth? Are you unwell?”
She released him and tried to stand straight, but he saw her sway. He caught her by the waist. “Are you faint?”
She nodded. “Yes… I am suffering such flutterings and beatings of my heart, and I feel sick to my stomach.”
“Sit here,” Richard said quickly.
Darcy guided her to a nearby rock. “Rest, my love. The stone is dry.”
Elizabeth sat for several minutes, her color gradually returning. “I was feeling tense and nervous, but I think it has passed,” she said. “I feel better now.”
Darcy helped her rise, and together they began the slow walk back toward the house.
Richard asked, “Who sent the express?”
“Her uncle Ambrose,” Darcy replied.
“Did she flee before or after the marriage?”
Darcy said, “After. Bingley has received an executed copy of the marriage certificate.”
Richard gave a low whistle. “Well, at least there’s that. Poor Charles. His sister will be the ruin of him yet.”
Elizabeth sighed. “I pity my poor Jane. She had hoped all obstacles to her happiness were past.”
Darcy took her hand. “For your sister’s sake, I will help Charles in any way I can. He is good-hearted but indecisive. We must guide him through this.”
“Thank you, Fitzwilliam. I will comfort her with that.”
Richard said nothing, but his thoughts were somber. For the first time, he felt a pang of pity for Caroline Bingley and wondered what terror had driven her from her husband’s side.
