“I begin to think that I will need to see this woman myself to gain any sense of the matter.”
“Yes sir, that is likely best.I am sure the matter is not her fault, but I expect someone imposed on her.Miss Bennet’s face is bruised.And her forehead and arms too, I dare say that—”
“Miss Bennet!”Darcy exclaimed, all hint of sleepiness and amusement at the situation suddenly gone.“Miss Elizabeth Bennet?”
“She did not say her Christian name, but—”
“Around this height, dimpled cheeks, and eyes which are roughly the color of the Thames at twilight—”
“No smiles to see any dimples on the girl tonight.”Mrs.North tilted her head and smiled a little.“But her eyes are like that.”
“Good God.”Deep breath.And then Darcy took another deep breath.“I shall speak to her.”
Perhaps it was one of her sisters.
Perhaps it was a completely unrelated Miss Bennet.
In the brief moment before he entered his drawing room Darcy wondered why Elizabeth would reenter his life at such a time.When he had finally entirely put that old affection behind him, and he at last was seriously looking for a prospect for wife, since he had reached the age when a manoughtto marry if he had not already.
Besides he thought he would be decidedly lonely in a few weeks with Georgiana gone to her husband’s estate in the north, and General Fitzwilliam soon to return to the division he commanded in the occupying army in France.
Darcy stepped briskly into the room.
She was Elizabeth.
His heart leapt in his chest and pattered fast.
Elizabeth clutched a blanket around her next to the fire and she seemed to not realize he was there.A small house kitten from the kitchen had climbed into her lap and was pushing its paws into her leg again and again, while she absently petted him and stared into the fire.
Her hair hung loosely around her ears and eyes, and she looked small and young, as if she had not aged a day in the four years since she refused his request for marriage.His heart went out to her, wanting to protect and comfort her.She looked like a wrung out rat, and she looked beautiful.
And then she looked at him, and as Mrs.North had said, her forehead had a big bruise, black and blue.And there was another softer bruise, shaped like a handprint, on her face.
Elizabeth.
What happened to you?
She stood up, the cat in her lap squealing as she absently put it on the arm of her chair.
“Mr.Darcy!”
He bowed.Darcy tried to speak but his voice would not come.
She was beautiful.
She shivered despite the warmth of the well heated room.And she was so bruised.
“What happened?”He forced himself to speak slowly and quietly, as though he was trying to comfort an injured and skittish horse.
But Darcy felt a roar of rage that screamed behind his ears.He added when she swallowed before answering, “Elizabeth, I am glad you came to me in whatever trouble you have found yourself.”
“I was…” Something flashed in her eyes, and she did not speak for a moment.
“You need not speak,” Darcy said, with the terror that she had been assaulted and defiled by some vicious man, “not if it is painful for you to recall.I trust you.Inform me how I might aid you.”
“No, I must tell you.You may not wish to help me when you understand.”
“I shall always wish to help you.”
