“Georgiana is a child. Forgive me for speaking of my cousin thus, but you know it for the truth. Darcy needs someone strong, someone who can love and reprove in equal measure. Had he found what he needs in his own sister, he would have remained here tonight. No, Miss Bennet, he adores his sister, but she is a burden just now. He needs a comrade in arms—if you know what I mean—and aside from my aunt, you are the only woman I know who is not afraid of him.”
She turned away, nibbling the tip of her finger and gazing out of the dark window. “What do you want me to do?”
He fell back against his chair, closing his eyes. “Slap him or kiss him, I care not. We have to find him first, and I am quite fagged.”
Elizabeth scowled at his coarse words, but then a shiver prickled over her skin. She narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. “Colonel… I think… will you permit me to look for him?”
He straightened, opening his eyes. “Permit? I would give you my favourite horse if you would!”
Her gaze had gone unfocused, but a light curve played at the corner of her mouth. “No horse for me, please, but I will need Georgiana’s phaeton and ponies.”
Chapter forty-three
Elizabethclutchedthereinsas though the ponies would jerk them from her hands at any moment. The colonel rode his horse beside her—to watch for her safety, he claimed—but the handling of the phaeton was all her own. The colonel had insisted that it be only they two, rather than a “horde of rabble” to search for Darcy. He was likely correct, but she did not like driving the phaeton by herself in the hours just before dawn. It was better than riding horseback, and at least the rain had stopped, but nervous tingles left her hands almost numb on the reins.
“You want to go upthatslope?” the colonel asked from somewhere to her left. He rode behind the beam of the lantern, and she could not see his face.
“Yes, there. Do you think it will be very slick?”
There was a moment of silence, followed by; “No, but it is rather rocky. You would do better to let the ponies pick their way. They can see better than we.”
Elizabeth gave a little on the reins, following his advice. Slowly, they laboured their way up the incline where Georgiana had intended to take them for their picnic. As they neared the crest, she was able to just make out the place where they had parked the phaeton on their last trip. She drew up, and Colonel Fitzwilliam rode to her side.
“This is where I leave you, Miss Bennet,” he spoke quietly.
“Leave me! Why now?”
“There is no farther you can go with the ponies,” he reasoned. “I have no qualms about your ability to travel on foot. If Darcy is indeed here somewhere, you will have better success without me. Fear not, I shall await down at the bottom of the slope. If you need anything, I will be able to hear your call.”
She gave up protests, merely listening to the retreating hoof beats as he trotted away.Well.She was here now, and rather cold. It would not do to linger in the phaeton, so she might as well see about what she had come for. With a very unladylike swing, she kicked her feet over the edge of the vehicle and leaped to the ground. She thought about taking the lantern from the front of the little carriage, but she could see the terrain now, better than she could see the hook that secured it, so she left it where it was.
The area seemed different in the dim light, and she stood a moment to collect her bearings. She started in one direction, and found it to be the wrong way. After turning around a moment, she at last saw the shadow of that massive tree, silhouetted against the first silver streaks of sunrise. She drew a sharp breath and thinned her lips, then started toward it.
She saw nothing. She kept striding closer, somehow certain that she would soon glimpse the prominence of his shoulder leaning against the back of the tree, but… she sighed. The thick trunk’s profile was smooth and straight, concealing no man’s figure behind itself. Only her stubborn nature kept drawing her forward, as if she could will the landscape to yield up the man she sought. At last she could touch it, could reach out her hand and rest it upon…. Her fingers drew back at once, encountering not smooth old bark, but damp cloth. A branch rustled from somewhere above her head, and she looked up.
He was staring down at her, his eyes shadowed and the line of his mouth rigid. His back leaned against the truck and his boots were drawn up, crooked upon the great limb, but the short tail of his jacket fell within her reach.
Elizabeth fell back, her mouth stumbling. “M—Mr Darcy!”
He did not speak, but she saw him straighten and look away.
She swallowed. So, she had found him, but he wanted nothing to do with her. She glanced over her shoulder, wondering if she ought to call for the colonel, but decided against it. She could not walk away from him now!
Hesitantly, she touched the trunk again. “Sir,” she began haltingly, “are you well?”
There was no answer for a moment. She was holding her breath, longing to hear even a sigh or a growl—anythingfrom his lips that could prove that he had acknowledged her. “Would it matter to you, Miss Bennet, if I were?”
She wetted her lips, her fingers curling over the trunk. “More than you can know,” she whispered.
A wry laugh sounded from above her. “Am I not ‘the last man in the world’ to you, Miss Bennet? If you have come to assuage your conscience, you may spare yourself the trouble.”
“Sir… as you once enlightened me about mistaken understandings, I beg to be permitted to do the same. I have no letter, but will you hear my words?”
He was silent, but when she risked a glance up at him, he was gazing back with a hungry expression. She drew a breath for courage. “Sir, what you saw last night was no assignation. I have no regard for Mr Wickham, and, in fact, I wish with my very heart and soul that I might never hear his name again.”
The light was growing strong enough now for her to perceive a narrowing of his eyes. “You chose a curious setting for your constitutional, Miss Bennet.”
“Sir, it… it is true that I expected to find him there, but it was not for my own pleasure that I sought his company. I feared rather for Georgiana—and for you. Mr Wickham had confirmed to me that you lived, and had promised information leading to your enemies.”
