“Might I offer you a brandy, Mr. Darcy?”
“I am tempted, sir, but I have been unforgivably remiss. I have not sent word to her father.”
“You must have been shocked. Was she truly in a workhouse in Horsham all this time?”
“She spent some days on the road with a potato seller, of all people, who ultimately took her to Horsham.”
“And you believe she has not been—”
“I am convinced of it, sir. The potato seller was apparently kind to her in his way, and he thought he was doing her a service by giving her to the Methodists.”
“Perhaps he was. He could have given her to an entirely different sort of people.”
“I cannot think on it now, sir, having thought of nothing else for nearly two weeks now.”
“Indeed. We have much to be grateful for. I must write a note to Thomas and send it express tonight.”
“I wonder, Mr. Gardiner—”
“Yes?”
“I am suffering from an excess of energy, and I wonder whether you would consider letting me take your note to Hertfordshire.”
“Tonight?”
“If you would allow it, yes.”
“I would be very glad of it, Mr. Darcy, but I could hardly ask it of you.”
“But suddenly, I need to be doing something.”
“Lord, yes. I have been in such a state of general frenzy that its cessation leaves me quite at a loss. I doubt I shall sleep at all tonight.”
“Then you will give me leave? Bingley is still at Netherfield, and I can easily throw myself on his hospitality after I have delivered the news to Mr. Bennet. Then, perhaps, I shall feel as if I can rest.”
“You have taken on more of our troubles than you should, Mr. Darcy.”
“You are too astute of a man not to know why I have done it, sir. My guilt over Wickham is one reason but not the whole of it.”
“I do not believe Lizzy is immune to you, Mr. Darcy, if that helps. I have never seen her as agitated as when she thought you might accuse her of following you to Derbyshire.”
“I am not sure I am comforted by that observation. Perhaps, she would have been happier not to have seen me.”
“Pardon me for saying so, Mr. Darcy, but though you know a great deal about a great many things, you appear to know nothing about a woman. ‘She doth protest too much,’ and in doing so, she says a great deal about what she does not want you to know.”
“I very much hope you are right. I shall step out for a moment and warn my driver he is in for a very long night and that we shall need fresh horses. And when you have your letter ready, I shall be off.”
Chapter 21
Meryton, Hertfordshire…
At two in the morning, Darcy’s coach, with lanterns carried on long poles by the outriders to dimly light the road, rolled slowly through the sleeping village of Meryton and turned toward Longbourn. His plan to rouse the Bennets with wonderful news struck Darcy as a poor one when he saw the house in darkness. Mrs. Bennet was ill, and everyone inside was in a constant state of anxious dread. A sudden banging on their door in the night would instantly convince the family that they were about to hear something awful.
He called out to his coachman to proceed to Netherfield. Charles Bingley’s nerves could stand the shock of his unexpected arrival, and Darcy’s news could wait a few hours more.
Bingley stood on the landing of Netherfield’s impressive staircase in his dressing gown, looking like a startled young owl framed in candlelight. “Darcy?”
A sleepy young footman took his outerwear, and once he had stepped out of earshot, Darcy looked up and said, “Charles, forgive me for bursting in on you. We have found Lydia Bennet, and she is well.”
