“Does this mean you will stay on at Netherfield Park?”
He ran his hands through his hair. Would that she could do the same. She clenched the bench under her leg, her fingernails scratching against the wood.
“I do not wish to leave, but I must do something. I cannot rest until you are returned to me.”
Was she so altered he spoke of her as if she werelost? Elizabeth braced herself, determined to ask him to share another bit of their history when boots scuffled on the gravel path behind them.
Her father rushed toward them, his white hair wisping with each long stride. Elizabeth had never seen him walk so fast.
Mr. Darcy sat on the edge of the bench, ready to stand, poised for action.
Papa spoke between gasps of breath. “I am grateful you are still here, Mr. Darcy. The coachman has recently returned from the blacksmith. He bears bad news.”
Elizabeth wondered what her father expected to gain in sharing the woes of repairing his conveyance to Mr. Darcy. “Papa?”
He glanced at her, then back to Mr. Darcy. His breathing did not calm. “Alarming news.” Another gasp, then he leaned a hand against the back of the bench.
“Pray, sit for a moment and rest, Papa.”
He shook his head fiercely. “The back axle did not break.” Another heave of his chest. “It was cut.”
“Cut?” Elizabeth repeated under her breath.
Mr. Darcy’s voice snapped. “Sabotage?”
Papa nodded, his voice low and his face grave. “Someone did not wish for us to arrive at the parish on time. Someone was willing to kill you to prevent you from marrying.”
CHAPTER 16
As any lady who has ever lost one glove from a set knows, the only way to find the lost item is to stop looking. Elizabeth had concentrated so much of her attention on what she had lost, she had forgotten this simple truth until her father presented another puzzle to solve.
Confusion and uncertainty, her constant companions that morning, dwindled at the prospect of a tangible problem with which to engross her mind. The sooner she began, the sooner her memories would return.
“You said the axle was cut?” she asked.
“About a third of the way through, which explains why the coachman did not notice it.”
Elizabeth nibbled on her lips, thinking aloud. “The wood is hard. Whoever did it would have to be strong … and unless this person carried around their own cutting tool, he or she would need to know Longbourn well enough to know where our saw is kept. It is a promising beginning.”
Her father fell quiet, both he and Mr. Darcy regarding her quizzically. She tempered her smile. They must think her mad, but for the first time in hours, she felt in control. Capable. Competent. “It is an unfortunate discovery, but now that the danger is past, I cannot help but feel some relief. If I can piece clues together to find the saboteur, then I am certain to find my misplaced memories along the way.”
Mr. Darcy’s reaction was immediate and unyielding. “Absolutely not.”
She crossed her arms. “Why not?” adding in her own mind,And who are you to forbid me without explanation?
To his credit, his eyes softened, but his posture remained stiff, his tone unrelenting. “You have suffered a terrible accident, and until your memories are recovered, surely you can see the advantage of not potentially exposing yourself to more danger. Someone purposefully sabotaged your family’s carriage, knowing you would use it this morning. You must avoid trouble. You must rest.”
You must. You must. Her back stiffened each time he told her what she must do. She was decided, and that was that. “We cannot assume I was the target of this attack. Otherwise, the saboteur would not haveendangered all of my family in the hope of injuring only me.”
Her father pinched his chin. “True. The accident might have befallen any or every one of my household. There was no guarantee Lizzy would be in the carriage when it happened, nor that she would hit her head and suffer amnesia.”
Elizabeth took his reasoning a step further, glorying in the quickness with which her mind cooperated and drew conclusions. Blessed relief! “It seems increasingly possible that no sinister motive was implied at all, in which case, I am safe to investigate without any unnecessary concern for my safety.”
Mr. Darcy snapped. “I cannot allow you to risk your life like this.”
“It is more likely I am not risking anything at all — only my time and intellect. And if this exercise nudges my mind in the right direction, I stand to gain everything I lost. I see nothing but benefits.”
“And I, the danger.”
