Perhaps he was naïve and wrong about both of them, but he did not wish to settle his mind on either his father or his aunt when there might yet be another possibility. The ship would drop anchor in two more hours, and if he rode hard he could be at Pemberley by nightfall on the morrow. Richard ran once more through a mental checklist of where he might go, on whom he might rely, and what he needed yet to know.
One of his greatest worries was in what condition he might find his cousin. From what Ruy and Amália had said, Darcy might be a rather damaged man by the time Richard found him. His treatment had been far from civilised, and Richard had seen perfectly rational men return broken and paranoid from war and imprisonment. He knew better than most how delicate a man’s constitution truly was. Darcy must be handled gently and aided however possible in the healing of his mind and body.
Richard breathed another sigh of gratitude for his foresight in securing the assistance of Elizabeth Bennet. That was the name Amália said she had heard Darcy cry out when she had first discovered him, was it not? And that was the young lady for whom Darcy had exposed himself before. At long last, love had stricken his cousin, and perhaps it also had the power to save him.
One of them, at least, deserved to hold the woman he loved, and if it could not be him, it ought to be Darcy. Elizabeth was no Amália, but she was a young lady of gentle strength and courageous humour, one who might answer for what he and Georgiana could not supply. Yes, if he were not mistaken, the young lady would play a vital role in the recovery of one Fitzwilliam Darcy.
Chapter thirty-four
Pemberley
Elizabethpausedattheentrance to the clearing where she expected to meet her informant. He had not yet arrived, but she was only a few minutes early. He would be here soon, and she had only a moment or two to repent of her folly and return to the house. What madness had possessed her to come about a man’s errand— no, not even the errand of any normal man, but a colonel! It was clear enough that it was Richard Fitzwilliam’s status and connections that the informant desired to exploit, and she had neither of those. She had only desperation and her feminine sincerity, which she hoped would convince this man to share what she needed to know.
A sound caught her attention, and she gestured faintly to the stable boy who had accompanied her. Understanding, he stepped back among the trees and allowed her the appearance, at least, of solitude. She could now discern hoof beats, and could tell that it was a long-legged horse slowing from a trot to a walk. She caught quivering lips between her teeth and took a deep breath. It was too late now to escape, and the fellow was upon her. She only prayed she was doing the right thing!
Round one tall tree the horse and rider came. The rider had his hat pulled low and his caped great-coat well up over his cheeks. It looked to Elizabeth as though he had wished to avoid recognition, but eventually he was obliged to look up at her. He drew rein, and his gasp of surprise was as audible as her own.
Elizabeth’s blood turned alternately to fire and ice. She balled her fists, set her jaw, and narrowed her eyes. She strolled boldly forward, taking some measure of satisfaction in the man’s white countenance. She smiled then, and any man of sense would have known it for an unpleasant expression. After dipping a small acknowledgment, she greeted him. “Mr. Wickham, it is a pleasure to see you again.”
He recovered quickly, which was no less than she would have expected from him. He tipped his hat and offered her an amiable courtesy. “Miss Elizabeth Bennet, the pleasure is all mine.”
He dismounted and appeared not in the least at a loss at her presence, nor at all troubled to account for the alterations of his expectations. “May I inquire after your family Miss Elizabeth?” he asked pleasantly. He bowed with a gallant flourish, extending his hand to take hers.
She did not reciprocate. “You may call me Miss Bennet now,” she informed him archly, “as my elder sister has married.”
“So formal, my dear sister!” he protested. “I should have thought us on closer terms than that.”
She lifted a brow and continued. “As to the remainder of my family, they are quite well, Mr. Wickham. I am certain thatallmy sisters send their greetings.” She placed some special emphasis on this remark, and he swallowed.
“Yes, I fear that my recent assignment may have caused my beloved wife some inconvenience. I trust she is well?”
Elizabeth fought to restrain herself, but she could not help a slight narrowing of her eyes. How she hated the blackguard in this moment! What she would give to have Lydia there to slap her husband, and Elizabeth would have gladly offered her assistance, but perhaps it was better that her sister was not aware of this meeting yet.
Instead, she pasted a pleasant expression upon her face and waved an airy hand. “Oh, you know my dear sister. She has been shopping to set up the décor for your new home. I believe she prefers the French styles; I hope that does not trouble you. She has told me all about your new establishment in Newcastle, and I trust she has forwarded the shopkeeper’s bills to you. It was most generous of you, sir, to have secured such a fine house as she said you described in your most recent letter. Only the most devoted of husbands would have taken such thought for his wife’s comfort.”
His expression tightened. “As it is only right and proper, of course. However, I did not come here to discuss my wife, Miss Elizabeth.”
She returned his candour with a steady, grave look, refusing to be unsettled by his pointed use of her familiar name. “I know, Mr. Wickham. You came to discuss matters of importance to the Darcy family, and you desire to speak with Colonel Fitzwilliam. I expect that you think he will do you some favour in exchange for your information, is that correct?”
He smiled, that open, genial expression she had once so admired. “Direct as always, Miss Elizabeth. Yes, I am quite dependent upon the old boy to help me out with a prickly situation in which I find myself. It is no fault of mine, of course, but I seem to have incurred the wrath of the Prince Regent himself in my service to an old friend. You would not hold that against a man, would you, Miss Elizabeth? Surely, when you and Colonel Fitzwilliam hear what I have to say, you will both agree that I have acted in the best interest of the family in which I was raised. I told you once before that George Darcy was like a father to me, and I could bear no slight against his legacy.”
Elizabeth’s mouth curled into a dangerous smile. “We shall see how valuable your information is, Mr. Wickham. I regret to inform you that the Colonel was occupied with other matters this morning and could not be troubled to meet with you. He asked me to come in his stead, as I was the only other party with nothing better to do today. I trust you hold no qualms against sharing your information with a lady?”
He tipped his hat with all the graciousness he possessed. “Not if the lady be one of your faithfulness and clever memory, Miss Elizabeth. I know that my information is in good hands, and I trust that as soon as the colonel returns to the area, you will immediately plead my case with him.”
Elizabeth opened her mouth to protest. He stopped her with a sly smirk. “Do not expect me to believe he would allow a lady to take on a task such as this! I know where he must have gone, and perhaps it is as well, for he will know that I speak the truth and that he needs my help. I expect he will not be long in returning – at least we must hope not, for time is of the essence for both of us.”
Elizabeth crossed her arms in front of herself. “Sir, as you appear to know so much, perhaps you will do me the honor of telling me of it. Do you know what happened to Mr. Darcy?”
He put a finger to his smiling lips, then peered round the brush until he found the stable boy. “Run back to your horses, lad. I shall escort the lady home.”
The youth looked doubtfully to Elizabeth. She sighed and tapped her toes. Dare she trust the scoundrel? He had proved more than once that he was not a man whose word she could take at face value, but she did not think he would molest her. No, he needed something of far greater worth than her virtue. She rolled her eyes and nodded to the stable boy. “Do as he says,” she sighed.
Wickham nodded in satisfaction as the lad scampered off. “Have you any more spies hidden away, Miss Elizabeth? Surely you know that I would never force myself upon a lady!”
She narrowed her eyes in a venomous expression. “I know no such thing,” she retorted icily.
Chastised, he drew back and held up a pleading hand. “Never have I forced myself on any lady! Then again, they were not all ladies. I say, you have nothing to fear from me, Miss Elizabeth. I asked nothing more of you than an attentive ear. Will you listen to me?”
