Author: Alix James
Category: Other
Go to read content：https://onlinereadfreenovel.com/alix-james/page,2,553562-spirited_away.html
And today, blessed of all days, he had secured more private lodgings for her. Quiet inquiries had directed him to a vacant cottage on the Purvis property. All Mr. Purvis knew was that an elderly gentlewoman and her “niece” required a respectable place to lay their heads for the next month until their family in a distant county could come for them. Mr. Purvis never asked after the validity of the story, nor the name of the benefactor who had made the arrangements, but he was perfectly happy with receiving a year’s worth of rent for only a month’s stay.
Anne was less happy. “Darcy!” she cried in exasperation, “you are nearly as bad as Mama, giving me directions as if I were a child!”
“Running away from your home is the action of a child,” he retorted. His tone softened almost immediately. “I am trying to lend you all the aid I may, Anne, but you are courting scandal and disgrace the like of which you could not possibly imagine. Perhaps you have not seen what becomes of a lady once her reputation is ruined, but I have.”
“But what do I care for that? I never go to Town, I have a fortune of my own, and I am to be married as soon as Mr. Sullivan comes for me. He has called for the banns to be read in his home parish of Plymouth—”
“Impossible,” Darcy declared.
“But it is legal,” Anne protested. “You do not expect I would elope to Scotland!”
“Scotland or no, it will be seen as an elopement, or very nearly. You must seek the blessing of our family. Lady Matlock has considerable influence—”
“My mother will have already extracted a promise from our uncle to send word of me if I show my face in London! I do not like to cause my mother pain, but you know my trials, Cousin.”
Darcy subsided with a scowl. “We are not finished speaking of this. I may come to yield on certain points, but I will brook no refusal in the matter of your lodgings. Your reputation absolutely demands that your presence in Hertfordshire must remain a secret until we have decided where you are to go. Come—I have hired a local couple named Robert and Mary Brown to assist in all your wants. Robert is securing your trunk even now.”
Anne made a petulant huff and started for the door, then stopped and rounded against the hand with which he had been escorting her. She studied him for half a moment. “You must have laid out a considerable sum over my troubles, Darcy. And I can see that you are near to venting steam from your ears.”
He ground his teeth and made a patient bow. “Would I do less than my duty for my own cousin?”
She laughed gently and patted his cheek. “Ever the knight in shining armor! Do you know, you have always been a good cousin and friend to me. You might have even made a passable husband if I met your standards.”
He felt his brow clouding in embarrassed denial. “What mean you, saying such a thing? How could you think I found you in any way wanting?”
She lowered her chin. “I knew it from the first day Mama began speaking of our supposed marriage. I knew it by the disappointment in your face, though we were little more than children, and I never forgot it, for I saw it often in later years. I resolved that I would seek a man who seemed happy when I came into the room—a man to whom I had something to offer.”
Darcy was quite flushed now, his mortification that his cousin had seen through him all these years doubling with his urgency to get her safely away. He caught her hand and tried to lead her to the door. “Anne…”
“No, no, Darcy. I know what I must do.” She brushed him off and descended the rear stairs alone, her head up and shoulders thrown back in a striking resemblance to her mother. Darcy hurried behind with her cape, desiring to shroud her distinctive flaxen hair and expensive attire from prying eyes. Where the devil was Miss Long at such a moment?
At last, he caught her up, cast the concealing drape over her figure, and turned to help Miss Long up behind her. At least the girl had the sense to keep a shawl close about herself to prevent anyone from recognizing her as she climbed into the farmer’s cart. They rattled away at once, and Darcy was left to catch his breath beside his horse. With any luck, the cart’s occupants would be considered unremarkable as they rumbled toward the Purvis cottage. It was a jolly good thing that the stable yard had been deserted when Anne had come down.
Darcy released one last sigh and swung into the saddle. He turned his mount… and that was when he saw her.
4
“I know what I saw,” Elizabeth insisted. “I was twenty feet away at our aunt’s door, so my eyes could not have deceived me. I do wish you would stop trying to make everyone out to be virtuous, Jane, for it is simply not so.”
“But you are pronouncing the worst sort of wickedness over a man whose closest friends believe to be honorable,” Jane protested. “Surely, they know his character better than we, and is it likely such an old friend as Mr. Bingley could be deceived?”
“Mr. Bingley may well believe nothing is wrong with Mr. Darcy’s actions. Have we not heard oft enough that ‘gentlemen have their indiscretions’? Why ought Mr. Bingley to object?”
“Lizzy! Surely, there must be some misunderstanding. Perhaps…” Jane bared her teeth in an uncomfortable grimace. “Perhaps many do have ‘indiscretions,’ but you accuse Mr. Darcy of something far worse. No, I cannot believe it.”
“I do not know the circumstances,” Elizabeth confessed, “but I did see him hastening two women from the inn and hiding them in a farmer’s cart. He made one of them hide under a dark cloak, and scarcely were they aboard when Mr. Darcy sent them away. Do you think respectable ladies would go willingly in such a manner? His entire bearing was secretive and suspect. Shall I not be concerned for fellow members of our sex? What am I to think?”
She left unsaid her true grudge against Mr. Darcy’s character, for she could not bring herself to admit it even in her own thoughts: Mr. Darcy had mortified her pride. A handsome and intelligent man, she might have been in danger of an attraction to him, had he not entirely shunned her. He refused to dance with her, would scarcely acknowledge her, and even openly argued with her when he did speak.
He was everything objectionable, though Elizabeth did confess once to Jane that it was nothing short of a crime that a gentleman with so many advantages could make himself so odious in company. If he was, in fact, prone to such moral failings as frequently plagued wealthy men, it rendered him less desirable as a man of interest and his rejection of her less stinging.
Jane was too generous a soul even to hear the selfish shades of Elizabeth‘s more indignant feelings. Her cheeks were red, and she was balling her small fist near her mouth as if she wished Elizabeth would desist and proclaim it all a figment of her imagination. “You make it sound as if he were kidnapping them.”
“How do I know he was not? I witnessed an argument through the window, two days ago at the same inn—you recall, that was the day I took Mama’s silver. Perhaps she was a paid ‘companion,’ and he was dismissing her. Either way, I am even less inclined to think well of Mr. Darcy than I had been before.”
“Oh, please,” Jane begged, “can we not speak of something else? This is all so very distasteful, and it feels woefully like gossip.”
“Gossip is bandying about slander in public hearing. I am merely speaking to my own sister of my concerns and asking her advice. But, if you like, we can speak of a pleasanter gentleman. What are your opinions of Mr. Collins by now?” This she asked with a wicked grin.
Jane cast her sister a doleful look. “Oh, pray, tell me he will not be staying long. Do you think he means to pursue you, as Mama has suggested?”
Elizabeth gave a dismissive wave. “I have no interest in him, and Papa will not make me accept him if he does offer. But is he so very awful? He is only partially deaf, for he can hear himself well enough, though I fear he has heard none of the discouragement I have tried to offer. And he only smells occasionally—to be sure, his body odor is not so offensive as some of the stable hands we have known. So long as I take care to sit far enough away that his spittle does not land on me when he speaks�
��”
Jane repressed a shudder of revulsion. “You know, Lizzy, when I asked to speak of something else, I did not expect you would attempt to horrify me into submission! Let us go out for a walk instead, shall we?”
The walk, unfortunately, proved less edifying than Jane might have hoped. Before they had finished speaking of their intent, Lydia and Kitty were racing for their bonnets, and Mr. Collins had—humbly—pled the honor of escorting them. Elizabeth only just restrained herself from a comment regarding Mr. Collins’ obvious lack of fitness and the duration of their intended walk. The mercy of it all was that he was half out of breath most of the way, and his usual soliloquies on his esteemed patroness dwindled to admonishing grunts.
Kitty and Lydia were gone at once when they reached Meryton, no doubt hoping to stare at the new officers in town. Jane and Elizabeth were less inspired—a new book or color of muslin would do to justify their afternoon foray.
“Ah!” Mr. Collins exclaimed when Elizabeth examined a particularly fine sample of violet satin. “Very handsome, indeed, but I think perhaps its costliness, and the subsequent purchase thereof, might prove the exercise of pride. As Lady Catherine is fond of saying, pride is the deadliest of all sins, leading one into every manner of vulgarity and imprudence. Why, I was just saying such to poor Miss de Bourgh, before she was taken so violently ill—”
“A lady taken too ill to speak with you?” Elizabeth mused distractedly. “I cannot imagine.”
“A tragic affair, indeed, and one deserving of much prayer and fasting,” Mr. Collins informed her gravely. “I would have stayed to offer consolation and encouragement to my good patroness, but she feared—perhaps rightly so—that I would have tormented myself with my sacred duty to the point of sacrificing my own health. I do regret that another may have to administer fair Miss de Bourgh’s last rites, should it come to it, but it was exceeding wise of Lady Catherine to send me hither at such a time. As a clergyman, naturally, I can take no chances. The spiritual well-being of my entire parish depends upon my own state, so—”
“Jane!” Lydia rushed into the shop, with Kitty close on her heels and two strapping-looking militia officers not far behind. “Oh, Jane, come and see! Mr. Bingley is riding into town.” Having delivered her news, Lydia was quick to step back outside, into the company of the admiring officers.
Elizabeth watched the easy pleasure in Jane’s face alter dramatically to a nervous flush. She clasped her sister’s hand as Jane fought a tremor and tried to steady her breath.
“I shall be easy,” she reassured Elizabeth. “Oh, look, he rides with Mr. Darcy. Do you not think—”
“Mr. Darcy?” Mr. Collins, who had ignored the news of Mr. Bingley, was alert at once. He turned around and knocked the ribbon samples from the counter with his elbow, but so distracted was he that he never noticed. “Is that Mr. Darcy from Pemberley in Derbyshire? Why, he is the nephew of my patroness! I must greet him.”
Elizabeth and Jane exchanged a look. “Perhaps we ought to flee now, through the back door,” Elizabeth suggested.
5
Everything was normal.
Darcy had been avoiding Anne’s cottage, for prudence demanded it. If any had asked him the cause for his terseness of late, or the reasons for his watchfulness on what was intended to be a pleasure outing, he could scarcely have given a nonchalant answer. He had never been good at disguise—why, even his horse had sensed his tension, and was a skittish, fretful creature this afternoon. The strain of acting naturally when an oppressively large concern weighed on his immediate present was beginning to tell on him.
Make that two large concerns.
Bingley’s desire to ride into Meryton had been a thinly veiled example of boredom and lover’s agitation. It would not yet be proper for him to call on Miss Bennet at her home, but his hopes had been answered far and above any expectation when Miss Bennet herself emerged from a milliner’s shop, just before them. And beside her…
Darcy looked away from the siren call of Miss Elizabeth’s presence. The last thing he needed was to fall into the same snare as Bingley apparently had. He must resist, no matter how alluring the inducement. And there yet remained the question of what she may or may not have seen the previous day in the inn’s stable yard. The better he kept his distance, the fewer questions could be asked.
Yet, the longer he tried to look away from her, the more that side of his face burned until he could do nothing else but to confess defeat. She was staring at him. Her features were contracted into a cynical study of his person, her rather remarkable eyes unwavering as she searched him for… what?
“I hope you are having a pleasant outing, Mr. Darcy,” she said cheerfully.
“Indeed, and you, Miss Elizabeth?”
“Very much, sir,” was her pert reply. “You may have noticed that I often walk into Meryton.”
He swallowed. “I beg your pardon, but I had not noticed.”
“Perhaps it is only for want of looking about you,” she answered with a faint curve to her upper lip. “I would warrant that many are they who have observed you when you did not trouble yourself to see them.”
Darcy stared, unable to conceive a response. She knew he had seen her the day before—they had locked eyes for an instant. Had she seen him from that same vantage on a previous visit to Anne’s room? And if so, what did she mean by mentioning it? For if he knew one thing about Elizabeth Bennet, it was that she did not speak idly.
The only answer to present itself was to tip his hat to the lady, then to turn his gaze to Bingley to end the conversation. The poor dupe was doting on Miss Bennet’s blushes and blind to all else. It was doubtful that he had even noticed Miss Elizabeth’s presence, nor that of the drab-looking parson who appeared to be bouncing on the tips of his boots behind the ladies, vying for notice.
“Ah, Mr. Darcy—Mr. Darcy!” the fellow cried, nearly knocking Miss Elizabeth’s bonnet from her head as he pressed himself forward.
Darcy’s frame became all rigid attention—not because the man knew his name, but because of his cavalier treatment of the lady. “I am,” he answered tightly.
The parson bowed at least twice. “Mr. William Collins, at your service. It is my great honor and privilege to have been appointed as rector at Hunsford by your good aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. I am pleased to be able to report to you that her ladyship is in excellent health.”
Darcy’s horse suddenly stirred, began to prance in place because of his rider’s inner agitation. He forced himself to draw a breath and calm the animal before making his answer.
“I am much obliged, Mr. Collins.”
“Oh, but I have not said all. Perhaps her ladyship has not sent you word—why, I am sure she said you would be in London, my good sir, so it is likely she did not know to forward the message here. The fair Miss Anne de Bourgh even now lies ill and likely perishing of an insidious fever. It distresses me greatly to be the bearer of such woeful tidings, but I was certain you would wish to have word by the earliest means possible.”
The horse lurched forward and plunged about for nearly thirty seconds as Darcy sought to control him. As he steadied the reins, he happened to catch a glimpse of his fair Calypso. Miss Bennet and Mr. Collins were standing back from his restless mount, but not Miss Elizabeth. Her head tilted, her lips pursed in deep thought.
“I… thank you… Mr. Collins, for your timely… information,” Darcy gritted through his teeth. The horse now restrained and quivering in anticipation, Darcy patted its neck and addressed Collins once more. “I regret to hear that my cousin is… unwell. I shall send my condolences.”
“Oh, to be sure, that will be just the thing! Why, I cannot think of a more fitting response than the sympathy of one so directly concerned with the lady’s health. Surely, as her betrothed…”
“Thank you, Mr. Collins, I will take the matter in hand,” Darcy interrupted. He turned his mount and was pleased that he at least remembered to tip his hat once more to Miss Elizabeth before he left.
>
“You are most welcome, Mr. Darcy!” Collins called after him. “Not to worry, sir, I will write to Lady Catherine de Bourgh personally, assuring her that I have given you word—”
Darcy did not turn back, for if he had, his face might have yielded too much. Bingley rounded just behind him, after bidding his farewells to Miss Bennet. Darcy scarcely acknowledged his friend, save but a brusque jerk of his head in the direction of Netherfield. Bingley responded amiably enough, but a second later, both of them drew up to allow a party of militia officers and young ladies to cross the street before them.
Darcy glanced over his shoulder—he could not help it—and saw Miss Elizabeth still standing on the walk, looking after him. But then, one of the figures in the road stopped and caught his eye. A militia officer, he lifted his hat, and the lady beside him—Miss Lydia Bennet—was forced to wait for him.
“Darcy!” George Wickham greeted him. “Fancy seeing you here in Hertfordshire.”
Darcy met Wickham’s salutation with a cold stare. Mere seconds later, his horse had hit a long trot, and Meryton was behind him in the dust.
6
The Bennet household was full of nothing but the praises of Lieutenant Wickham. Even the promising attentions of Mr. Bingley—a far more eligible gentleman, who had agreed to host a ball—were nothing to the gleam of brass buttons against scarlet broadcloth.
“Did you see the way he held his hand for me to take the step?” Lydia swooned. “And when he set out his foot, I thought I should die at how fair his leg looked!”
“Lydia, dear!” Mrs. Bennet shushed her daughter, but she bore a curiously heated look about her countenance. “Now, I recall how none could turn my eye so well as a gentleman in a red coat, but it would not do for your father to hear you speaking thus.”
“It matters little anyway, Lydia,” Kitty said flippantly. “It was Lizzy he took the most notice of. As soon as he met her, he was only interested in speaking to her, not to you.”