He looked away, knowing he should not dwell on that. Her proximity was evoking all kinds of sensations, but he clamped them down. The warmth of her body pressed close to his, the subtle scent of her hair, and the undeniable awareness of her presence stirred emotions he had no business feeling. No doubt it was the experience of danger and urgency that had invoked such sensations.
He reminded himself that she was nothing to him. She was a mother with a child. By tomorrow, he would have forgotten them.
Thankfully, they had reached the bank.
"May I release you now?" he said, taking refuge in extreme politeness.
"Yes, thank you."
As he let her go, Darcy felt suddenly bereft. There was something about carrying a woman so closely that had brought out a primitive protective instinct. It would not do. He stepped back deliberately, putting a distance between them, and waitedwhile she pulled down her heavy skirts, conscious now of their audience and the many eyes that were fixed upon them.
As she put out the arms that had been around his neck to reach out to her daughter, he reminded himself that she was a mother, with a child and a husband.
His legs were aching with the effort of wading through the water. His garments clung miserably to his body, and his boots squelched as he moved. He was starting to feel numb.
The carriage came rattling towards them, ignoring the park rules that forbade a carriage from driving through the grass. He was cheered by the prospect of warmth inside, of bricks that might still hold some heat, and, above all, dry blankets. Anything to get out of the raw air.
Darcy’s legs moved towards the carriage of their own volition. Then he stopped suddenly as he realized he still had unfinished business. He could not simply abandon the child and her mother in the middle of Hyde Park at the mercy of the weather.
"Is your carriage far, madam?” he asked.
"The carriage was needed for errands. We were to be collected at noon."
He took out his timepiece. He waited to make sure the hands were moving. Mercifully, the water had not affected it. “That is still half an hour from now.”
His thoughts were sluggish with fatigue. He forced himself to concentrate. "Margaret cannot stay out that long in her wet clothes. Where do you live?"
"Gracechurch Street."
Darcy controlled his expression. From the way she spoke and her clothing, he had judged her to be a gentleman’s daughter. It appeared he was mistaken. Her address spoke of trade. Not that it mattered to him either way. But it did have immediate implications.
Cheapside was further away than he had expected. With only one carriage between them, and with their destinations in opposite directions, he had to work out the best way to take everyone to safety without further complicating an already delicate situation.
The young gentlemen on horseback were still enjoying the spectacle. He was being watched, and there would inevitably be gossip if he rode in the carriage with a young lady, even if she was married. He would rather avoid any complications.
He turned to his coachman.
“In your estimation, Walsh,” he said, “how long would it take in total for little Miss Margaret to reach her home in Cheapside?”
“Too long, sir. I would not advise it, Mr. Darcy,” replied the coachman.
“If you can take us to the road, we can hire a hansom cab.” The mother stated.
“A hansom cab will be cold and drafty,” said the coachman, “The little girl needs warmth if she does not want to catch her death of a cold.”
Darcy nodded. “You are perfectly right, as always, Walsh. We are wasting time. You had better take them both to Darcy House. Then come back for me. I will walk and meet you at the gate. Moving will keep me warm."
The woman gasped. "No. You must go in the carriage. I will wait for mine to be sent round."
It was noble of her to offer , but what kind of gentleman would agree to such a sacrifice?
"You cannot wait out here in frozen skirts," he answered, firmly.
"I am hardy. I have an excellent constitution."
Darcy chuckled dryly. "I do not doubt it. But are you willing to risk Margaret’s health to prove it?"
Her silence answered her question. She could not prioritize him over her child.
