Abruptly, he released her and backed away, saying coarsely, “Learn from this lesson! Do not attempt anything hasty. I will send word once I know anything of importance.”
He whirled away and departed from the townhouse, leaving a weakened Elizabeth still plastered against the wall in a heated daze.
An hour later, however, Elizabeth felt ready to brave the lion again. Her uncle had left for Longbourn earlier, promising to inform Mrs. Bennet of the bad turn in her husband’s health and to arrange business matters with her husband’s steward. Elizabeth informed her aunt that Mr. Darcy would be going off to search for Lydia and Wickham, and then added that he had requested that Elizabeth stay with his sister while he was away, since Miss Darcy's companion had been called away suddenly.
Departing the house, Elizabeth trusted that her aunt would continue to believe her tale and would not question the matter further.
Arriving at Darcy’s townhouse, she requested a private meeting with Miss Darcy, where she stated boldly that she and Mr. Darcy had been secretly engaged since their Easter meeting at Rosings. Since Darcy had already shared some of the particulars about Lydia and Wickham's situation, Elizabeth was able to persuade Georgiana to agree that she must accompany Mr. Darcy in his search for the wayward pair.
At first, Miss Darcy did not feel right about helping her secretly, but Elizabeth convinced the girl that she feared that Mr. Darcy might challenge Mr. Wickham to a duel, and that she believed that only her presence would prevent it. She also called upon Georgiana to agree, at need, to corroborate the story she had told to Mrs. Gardiner.
In turn, the young lady suggested sending a maid to Gracechurch Street to help care for Mr. Bennet in the meantime, and made enquiries with the footman about her brother’s plan. They learned that he had ordered two hire coaches and had several servants ready for the journey. They would stay in Whitstable, a small coast town near Dover. He would then change into labourer’s clothes and walk to the nearby fishing village from there on a ‘private matter.’
“Why does my brother wish to go to the village himself, instead of sending the servants?” Miss Darcy asked.
“I believe he is determined to confront Mr. Wickham himself. That is why I fear that a duel may be imminent. I do not want him hurt. You must help me, Georgiana. You must!”
This last argument persuaded Georgiana to help her. So determined, the two women then dressed Elizabeth as one of Darcy’s footman and slipped her in the front of one of the carriages after Darcy was onboard.
By the time the coaches arrived in Whitstable, the sun had set.
Mr. Darcy bid his men goodbye. The first village was about two miles away, on an isolated part of the shore. If the enquiry was not long, he hoped to be back to Whitstable before the night was out.
A few metres behind, Elizabeth followed him quietly, able to trail him on level ground. When he took the downward track by the river towards the sea, however, she had more difficulty keeping up with his pace. The growing darkness hindered her progress, as well. A few moments into her downward descent, she encountered a slither of loose rock underfoot, and yelped aloud as it tumbled her down the bank to sprawl in the shallows of the slow-moving river.
Mr. Darcy heard a cry and turned back to find what looked like a slim lad sat in the shallow water. The boy had a smear of dirt on his face, and was staring at him with very bright eyes. In fact, those eyes looked very like…
“Elizabeth!”
“Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth acknowledged weakly. She had hurt her ankle, and her clothes were soaked. When she tried to stand, the injured leg gave way and she slipped again.
Mr. Darcy moved quickly toward her. Before he could grab her, she slipped back into the water and splashed more of it on both of them.
“I told you that this was no place for a gentlewoman! Why did you not listen to reason?” Darcy hissed.
“I do not want you to call Mr. Wickham out. And I desperately want to help you with Lydia. I know my sister, and you will need me to reckon with her. Besides, I am no gentlewoman now,” she said, gesturing down at her boy’s clothing.
“But you have injured your foot. Now I shall have to carry you the two miles back to Whitstable. Stubborn woman! You are hindering the search, rather than helping it.”
Before they could argue further, they heard the approaching sound of men singing. Quickly, Darcy motioned for her to climb up and ride upon his back, with her arms wrapped around his neck, and her legs around his waist. At her scandalised look, he explained curtly that it was how a big brother would aid an injured younger brother.
“Wat yer doin’ ’ere, mate?”
“My cousin and I were heading to Whitstable, but he fell and hurt his foot in the river just now.” Mr. Darcy said.
“Whitstable be two miles on. Storm’s a comin’. Ye’d best stay till mornin’. My brother, John, has a hut at Herne Bay that’d be closer. Stay there, if y’like.”
Darcy looked up to the sky and agreed. He nodded and followed the men along the river to the sea, where they were taken to the hut of one of the fishermen. His family shared the hut with his brother and his wife. Darcy and Elizabeth were given the brother’s room. The bed filled up most of the space in the room, without even a chair to sit on.
John’s wife, Margaret, asked to have their wet clothes laid out for drying, and gave them trousers to wear for the time being. Inside the room, Elizabeth’s face turned bright red. She could not wear nothing but trousers, and yet she could not refuse to give Margaret her clothes. It would look too suspicious. Mortified, she looked at the bed and whispered to Mr. Darcy, “Pray, turn your back. I will remove my clothing and stay in the bed. You shall give the clothes to Margaret for drying. You must plead a headache for me, as I have no clothes that will permit me to go outside.”
Mr. Darcy turned his back and listened to the slithering noises behind him until Elizabeth said he could turn around. The wet clothes she had worn were now draped on the edge of the bed, and she had lain out another long piece of cloth near the window. She was lying under the bed sheet, and had pulled it up all the way to her neck.
Mr. Darcy said, “Should I not take that piece of cloth by the window out to Margaret as well?”
“No, she would find it strange that I possess such a piece of clothing.”
“Why?”
“I used it to…”
“To what?”
“To bind my bosom.”
“Oh!” Darcy exclaimed, flustered by the thought of her binding up her beautiful breasts. He said quickly, “It is you who must close your eyes now. I need to change.”
Elizabeth closed her eyes, silently listening as he removed his wet clothes and donned the dry ones. “I am finished." He said.
When she opened her eyes, she wished she had not. Although she was a country girl, and had seen many farmers without their shirts working in the hot sun, she was not prepared for the sight of a shirtless Mr. Darcy. His body was nothing like that of most farmers. His chest looked smooth and muscular. He was about to collect all of the clothes to leave the room when Elizabeth called out to him in a low voice.
“Mr. Darcy, you will not do.”
Darcy turned to look at her.
“You do not look like a labourer,” she confided.
He looked at his trousers and said, “These are a fisherman’s trousers, though too short for me.” He must be five inches taller than the owner of the clothes. Elizabeth could see that much of his calf exposed by each pant leg.
Colouring, she tried again. “I mean…your chest. You look… too clean and tidy.”