Elizabeth’s thoughts went round and round in her head until, at last, Darcy came back to the carriage.
She asked immediately, “What happened? Is Lydia all right?”
“They are unharmed. They stayed in an inn in another village not far from here yesterday. It seems there was a disagreement with someone there, and they had to leave in a rush. Wickham drove recklessly and caused the carriage to turn over. He and Miss Lydia will take the second coach back to the next town. I have assigned a pair of burly servants to join them, to make certain that they do not escape again, and I brought the special licence I procured for them when I set off on this journey. Your uncle gave me the authority to have them marry in the nearest church, if I found them not to be married yet."
“Poor, stupid Lydia! To be forced to marry in haste, without family or friends attending, without even a decent dress, and to such a man!”
“It cannot be helped.”
“Indeed it cannot. But may I not see to her, when we arrive in the next town, and attend the wedding?”
“Absolutely not! The fewer people who know of your presence here with me the better.” His glare sharpened. “And it has just come to my mind to wonder how you persuaded my head coachman to let you pretend to be a footman. Did Georgiana aid you?”
Elizabeth hesitated for a moment, then nodded her head, “I told Georgiana you might call Mr. Wickham out, and that we had to prevent it.”
“Why would she think that you could prevent me from doing so? Your acquaintance with her is still very new, and she is not very trusting to strangers.” Darcy stared at her, challenging her to tell the truth.
“I told her…” Elizabeth breathed deeply, looked down at her nervously clasped hands, and confessed, “I told her that you and I had been secretly engaged since your visit to Rosings, when I was visiting Charlotte.” She returned his gaze, daring him to vent his anger at her deception.
“Is that so?” He could scarcely believe it but he contented himself with simply nodding his head as he wondered, Is her opinion of me truly so changed that she would be willing to follow through on a secret engagement between us?
“And what of your aunt?” he asked. “What did you tell her about your absence?”
“I told her that I would be staying with Georgiana, because you needed to search for the wayward pair but your sister's companion had been called away suddenly.”
“Very creative!” he observed dryly.
“Desperate times call for desperate measures. I truly was afraid that you would call Wickham out.”
“Why would you worry? I am far more proficient than he with both sword and pistol.”
“That may well be, but I would not want you harmed in any way."
Darcy's somber mood lifted on hearing her worries about him. However, he wanted to make certain of her stand. “Or is it that you would not want me harming him?”
“That, too.”
His countenance again turned grim. He took a deep breath and asked the inevitable question. “Tell me, did you follow me in order to prevent Wickham’s marriage to your sister?”
“Prevent? What are you talking about?”
“You said you were pleased with the preference of Mr. Wickham. Perhaps you want him for yourself.”
“Are you out of your mind? That was before I knew of his character. Did I not say yesterday that we must have him marry Lydia and send them off to one of the colonies?”
“Then…uhm…You are not in love with him?”
“Never!”
“But you said you would not want me to harm him.”
“Of course not! What if you were sent to prison for life or faced the gallows for murdering him? I could not bear to see any sort of harm come to you!"
The burden in Darcy’s mind was lifted. He wanted to ask her whether her opinion of him had changed so much that she would now be willing to accept his suit…but he did not dare.
He closed his eyes and simply savoured the knowledge that she was, at least, not in love with Wickham, and that she cared for him enough not to want him to face any dangers. She does not want me to be harmed. She cares about me! She has told Georgiana that we are engaged. Her aunt and uncle know of my interest in her. There is still hope that I may win her heart.
Elizabeth did not understand why he had closed his eyes and stopped talking altogether. She looked at him, and saw the throbbing of a vein on his forehead. He looked weary. She longed to move across and smooth his frowning brow… but she did not dare.
He is still so young, and already he shoulders so many responsibilities. He shows a sense of determination and decisiveness that is not present in Mr. Bingley. Just look at the number of people who work for him in his townhouse. As a brother, a landlord, a master, he could bestow much pleasure or pain. He could have done much good or evil. And yet, when I sat next to the coachmen and listened to their conversations, they were a content and sensible lot, much happier than the servants at Netherfield, under Mr. or Miss Bingley’s patronage.
Although the coachmen did not commend their master in front of me, their levelheaded and cheerful outlook on life speaks volumes about their sense of loyalty in serving the Darcy family, and about the character of the master himself.
She stared at the exhausted man. She thought of his love with a deeper sentiment of gratitude than she had ever felt before; she remembered his gentlemanly ways, his warmth, and the caring manner that softened the stiff, reserved way in which he had expressed himself in times past. She was thankful for the strength of his love, a love which defied his own will, persisting against his reason and perhaps even against his character. She was grateful to him, not merely for having once loved her, but for loving her still.
She remembered his word to the little boy on the beach. He did not love any one but Georgiana… and herself. Am I too fickle to respect and esteem a man whom I professed to dislike so much, just a few days ago? I am certain he demanded a reward to taunt or goad me, for saying he was not behaving in a gentlemanlike manner during his proposal at Hunsford. Now I know that he is a truly honourable man. On this reassuring thought, she followed his example and closed her eyes to rest.
When the coaches arrived in Herne Bay, Elizabeth heard Mr. Darcy instruct his coachmen to take Wickham and Lydia directly to St. Martin Church. He then settled her into a room at the New Dolphin Inn, and followed after them.
She expected him, in company with the Wickhams, to return within an hour, but the hour turned into two. She was tugging nervously at her hair, pacing back and forth, when someone finally knocked upon her door. Opening it, she found Darcy’s head coachman, Wharton, standing there. He hurriedly asked her to take care of his master in the adjacent room for the time being.
Elizabeth did not understand his request, but he was gone before she could utter a word. She ran to the room and found Mr. Darcy lying on the bed, with bandaged wounds on his head and his chest, as still as…
Fearing the worst, she ran to him, but closer inspection showed that, although his eyes were closed, he was still breathing.
“Mr. Darcy, what happened? How were you injured? Where are Lydia and Mr. Wickham?” She shook his shoulder lightly.