Scarcely had the colonel left the chamber when Darcy, in a single stride, was beside Elizabeth, gathering her into his arms. With a deep sigh, she yielded, and all the anxiety, nervousness and fear melted from her frame within the embrace of the man she loved.
“Thank you, thank you,” he murmured again and yet again, as though the very sound might charm away all evil and ugliness from about them.
They did not kiss, for their happiness could not be entire whilst, scarce a mile distant in the garrison, their cousin and friend was to endure the most grievous of trials: to prove his innocence in a matter so entangled and so dreadful.
“Why do you thank me?” Elizabeth asked, drawing a little away that she might look upon him. In the pale and flickering light of the candles, his face was a mask of care, yet his eyes grew clear when they met her own.
“You found the very tone and words to stir doubt in his mind even before he saw the undeniable proofs of treachery.”
“I do not know if it is so. When you entered, he was still at war with himself—”
“The struggle itself shows that you had planted doubt already. You had mostly conjunctures, no evidence strong enough to convince Richard...of that woman’s lies—”
“Nor did I breathe a word of our gravest suspicions of treachery. I spoke only of her falsehood concerning her family. Yet from the letter which at last he consented to read, it was plain that she had chosen him not with her heart, but with an interest.”
“Precisely. An interest unnamed, yet sufficient. When I entered the room, I saw him sink within himself. You did not utter the word treachery, but every syllable you spoke led him towards that dreadful suspicion.”
“Oh!” cried Elizabeth, broken, hiding her head against his breast, thankful for that place of eternal rest, while he pressed her close, assured that he had found a partner who would walk beside him in life with warmth and with intelligence.
“Let us not deceive ourselves. The game is not yet won for Richard. The general and those in London who will examine his case may believe him, or they may not.”
But Elizabeth withdrew once more and shook her head with vigour, her fair countenance lit with resolve. “No, it cannot be! Richard shall prove his innocence, though he needs all your family’s support.”
She looked at Darcy with a trembling eagerness, longing to impart to him somewhat of her own confidence, a confidence not grounded upon real facts, but upon a faith that sprang from her heart, idyllic in its purity, that an innocent man could not be condemned unjustly. Finally, he inclined his head, conquered by the beauty of her hope. “We must depart hence with speed. I have already dispatched a messenger to my uncle. By the time we arrive, I am certain he will have taken some measures. Ourfamily, our long tradition of loyalty to crown and country, shall weigh in the balance for Richard.”
“Poor Richard,” said Elizabeth softly. “I do not know what wounds him most. However idealistic it may sound, the heart can unleash a pain as piercing as any trial of the mind. The betrayal of a woman towards the man who loves her may wound no less painfully than any punishment dealt by human justice.”
Darcy looked into her eyes with a faint smile. “I am here to testify that the pain born of love is so profound it may be likened to every anguish of body or of spirit.”
“We did not betray one another,” Elizabeth said in haste. “Whatever befell in Kent was nothing but folly, the offspring of our pride and prejudice.”
“Nevertheless, the pain was as keen, though the circumstance was wholly other. But enough—we must depart this house, this town.”
Darcy sought to take her hand to lead her towards the door, but she stayed him. “Wait! Tell me, how did you discover those documents? How did Emmeline conduct herself?”
But he touched her lips with a gentle kiss and whispered, “Come, my love. We have time to speak of it in the carriage. Nay, what am I saying? We have a whole lifetime to speak of all that has passed.”
Chapter 21
“What has happened?” Mr Gardiner asked impatiently. He looked from Elizabeth to Darcy, yet discerned little more than shadows.
They travelled in complete darkness, for no eye should see who departed in haste from the house of the Duke of Devonshire.
From the instant Darcy beckoned Mr Gardiner to follow, until the carriage departed, only a few minutes elapsed, and not a word was spoken. Mr Winston attended them to the carriage; there he whispered in Darcy’s ear so low that not a syllable was caught, and Mr Gardiner’s anxiety rose to an incredible height.
“I dislike travelling in the darkness,” he said, when no answer came from them.
“Do not worry, sir! We shall stop for the night,” Darcy finally spoke. “There is a small settlement less than eight miles distance. I think it is called Polegate. It is better that we do not pass the night in Eastbourne.”
Elizabeth wondered again when he had planned such details of their journey, and rejoiced that the gentleman seatedbeside her was indeed her future husband. They remained next to one another, no longer mindful of decorum, for they felt as though they had been married for many years.
“Tell me, I pray you,” Mr Gardiner pleaded. “I am dying to know what has happened. Is the colonel all right? Mr Winston murmured to me that he heard him leaving.”
Darcy nodded and sighed, the only sigh of the immense burden he still carried on his soul.
“I understand that you succeeded in convincing him?”
“I wish it were so simple,” Darcy replied. “The evidence we discovered in Mrs Avery’s chamber was overwhelming and cannot be denied. There was intelligence copied from his official documents, or perhaps imparted to them in the course of friendly discourse.”
