Page 31 of Bella Darcy is on the Run

"Quite right, love," said Elizabeth cheerfully. "Absolutely no gallivanting in this family. Unless it is under the express supervision of your aged parents. I have acquired more grey hairs in the past fortnight than in the previous twenty years."

Darcy turned towards his wife, his expression soft. "You have not had a grey hair during our entire marriage, Elizabeth. You look no different than you did when we first met."

"You are very kind, William," she said, blushing most becomingly. "Although there has been the odd silver intruder."

"Mama disguises them," Mina said with a giggle." Her maid calls them ‘feminine contrivances’."

Elizabeth turned towards her, an exasperated smile on her face. "Betrayed by my own flesh and blood."

"What?" Mina said, her blue eyes wide and innocent, although her smirk suggested otherwise. "I thought Papa knew."

"I most certainly did not," said Darcy, frowning.

Kate glanced up from her book. "There are not very many. Ten, perhaps. Twenty at most."

Darcy reached across and took one of Elizabeth's curls between his fingers. "You need not colour a single one on my account."

Mina gave a groan and turned towards the window. "Please do not say anything romantic. We have been trapped in this carriage for days and I do not think I can bear it."

Darcy looked affronted. "I was merely going to tell your mother that she remains the most handsome woman of my acquaintance. It is hardly romantic when it is an honest observation." He smiled softly at Elizabeth. "I am the luckiest man in the world."

"It is extremely romantic," said Mina. "And therefore disgusting." She made a retching sound which earned her a hard stare from her father.

Elizabeth laughed and patted Darcy's hand before he could defend himself further. "There now, William. You have been told. Try to contain your devotion until we reach Falmouth."

✽✽✽

The Darcys reached Falmouth in a fine drizzle. The sea was little more than a grey blur pushing up against the land, and the white-painted houses they passed were obscured by the rivulets of water running down the carriage windows. When they finally pulled up outside Lydia Bennet's fine but modest house, Mina was bouncing up and down on the seat.

"Oh, I am ever so excited to meet Aunt Lydia. I am the only one who has never met her, you know. And to see Bella. And to paint the sea. Imagine being able to paint the sea."

Darcy tried to keep his own emotions in check. He had been thinking about this moment ever since he found the note beneath Bella's pillow. Sometimes, in his mind, he scolded her roundly for what she had done, but most of the time he simply held her close. He could not wait to have his daughter in his arms and tell her that everything would be well. He imagined she would cry. He worried that he might. Elizabeth almost certainly would. But their family would be united again, and all would be as it was.

He stepped down from the carriage and handed out his wife and daughters just as the front door opened wide and a small freckle-faced maid came hurrying towards them.

"Are you bein' Mr Darcy, sir?" she asked, dropping into a sloppy attempt at a curtsey. Her eyes were wild and strands of vivid red hair had escaped from beneath her cap.

Darcy nodded, somewhat nonplussed, as Elizabeth came to stand beside him.

"I am so glad you are here, sir. It has been such a bad business, and I did not know what to do. I tried my best to help 'em. I truly did."

Darcy held up a hand to silence her as the first tendrils of panic began to snake up his spine. Before he could demand an explanation, a familiar face appeared in the doorway behind the girl. He recognised Lydia Bennet immediately. She was still pretty and fair-haired and, although time had traced a few lines across her face, she remained a very handsome woman. Now, however, her hands were clasped tightly in front of her and her wide grey eyes were sober in a way he had rarely seen before.

Darcy began to panic in earnest. Elizabeth hurried forwards and grasped her sister's hands. "Liddy, we are so glad to be here. Where is Bella?"

"Lizzy. Darcy. Girls." Lydia looked from one to the other and her face crumpled. "I am so very sorry. Please come inside and I will explain everything."

"What do you mean, you are sorry?" Darcy ground out, fighting the sudden, overwhelming urge to seize somebody and shake them until they told him exactly what had happened to his daughter.

Lydia gave a broken sob. "Bella is gone."

Elizabeth's hand closed around Darcy's arm.

Lydia pressed a hand to her mouth before forcing herself to continue. "Her and Captain Harwood both. They have been taken. I am so sorry. I did not even know she had left the house, but she is gone."

For some moments, Darcy could make no sense of the words. He heard the rain pattering softly around him and the restless shifting of the horses, but everything else seemed to have receded. Bella had been safe. She had been safe with Lydia, and all he had to do was reach Falmouth, hold her in his arms and bring her home. Now the reassurance he had clung to so desperately had evaporated and he felt hollowed out.

Elizabeth's hand tightened around his arm. "Taken by whom, Liddy? What has happened? Who is Captain Harwood?"