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Darcy awoke in his bed, soaked in sweat and with a pounding head. His mouth felt as if he had eaten a bale of hay that tasted like horse manure, or rather what he imagined it tasted like.
Tormenting dreams still haunted the edge of his consciousness.
“It is about time you awakened.”
“Richard! When did you return from the continent?”
His cousin stared blankly at him with sleepy eyes. Then reality came crashing down and he flung away the cover, leapt to the floor, and swayed on his feet. The sun shone high on the horizon. How long had he slept?
“Easy, old man. It was not Mrs Darcy.”
Darcy halted on the threshold on the way out of his room.
“What?”
“The lady who drowned in the Serpentine. It was not Elizabeth. It was a young girl, about twelve years old, with blonde hair.”
The relief rushing through his body made him want to retch.
“Then, where is Elizabeth?”
He looked longingly down the passage to the mistress’s chamber. Had she returned?
“She does not want to be found.”
“You read my letter?”
“Of course, I am used to snooping in other people’s personal business. It is part of my diplomatic work.”
“Espionage, more like it… I must find her.”
“What about the divorce? I have spoken to her lady’s maid, and she donated a substantial number of gowns to charity only yesterday morning. It is hardly a coincidence. Could she have run away to avoid being sent to a godforsaken cabin in the Outer Hebrides?”
“There is no bloody divorce. It is all a misunderstanding.”
Richard whistled, whilst both Georgiana and Mary poked their heads out of their bedrooms.
Elizabeth cannot truly believe I would divorce her?Had he not repeatedly told her how much he loved her?
Perhaps not. Not in the weeks when he had been busy finding the culprit behind the rumours. Yet, he had shown her every night how much he needed her, or at least the nights he had not been too tired. Might she think his devotion was based on lust? It was not! He craved her because he loved her, because she brightened his day, and because she was his best friend. He was living through one of his worst fears, being subjected to ridicule, derision, and censure. Yet he did not repine marrying Elizabeth. Not one iota! Society be damned…
The truth was that after believing his wife had died, he could not picture a life without her, not even a day if he were to be honest.
“Where could she have gone?” he asked aloud whilst rubbing his stubbled chin.
“If you are speaking about Elizabeth, Oakham Mount has always been her favourite place to think,” Mary offered. “Or sulk, depending on the situation. No one can hold a grudge quite like Lizzy when she deems she has been wronged.”
The exhilaration of realising that Elizabeth was alive made him ridiculously happy. He even kissed Mary on the cheek when he thanked her. Georgiana too, for good measure. Of course, Elizabeth had returned to Longbourn and the comfort of her beloved father.
“Do you fancy a trip to the rural countryside of Hertfordshire?” he asked Richard.
“Always. I have the luxury of three weeks at leisure. Does our final destination serve food?”
“Mrs Bennet sets an excellent table.”
“Then what are we waiting for?”
