Page 37 of Leave Her Wild
“It does not have Mr. Darcy’s crest on the outside,” Kitty announced with a frown. “A gentleman is stepping down. Fine cut to his clothes. Reddish blonde hair. Not as tall as Mr. Darcy or the colonel.”
A hasty knock at the door and a whispered exchange in the hall had the gentleman shown into the large sitting room.
“Mr. Bingley!” Jane exclaimed with the first genuine smile Elizabeth had noted on her sister’s lips in longer than Elizabeth could recall. Assuredly, it was long before Jane’s engagement to Mr. Darcy. “How pleasant of you to call. Have you decided to view Netherfield Park, after all?” The man did not respond immediately, and Jane continued on, “As you may assuredly see, we were preparing to travel to London today.”
“I was aware of your journey,” the young man said solemnly. “Such was the purpose of my traveling to Hertfordshire.”
Jane appeared disappointed. Therefore, Elizabeth said, “My sister has forgotten her manners. I am Miss Elizabeth Bennet.” She gestured to where her parents stood together. “Mr. Thomas Bennet. Our mother, Mrs. Bennet. Two more of our sisters, Miss Mary and Miss Catherine. And you are Mr. Bingley? I recognize your name. Mr. Darcy spoke of how you and he havebeen looking for an appropriate estate. I understand you are familiar with our Uncle Gardiner.”
Neither Jane nor the gentleman had moved. Their eyes remained on each other. “Yes,” the man said, and “yes” again. At last, he turned to their father. “I must beg your forgiveness, sir. I have come on a dreadful task. I have . . . I have come at Colonel Fitzwilliam’s request to fetch you. You specifically, Miss Bennet.”
Elizabeth’s senses were suddenly on full alert. “Why Colonel Fitzwilliam?” she asked, while a sense of dread rushed to her chest. It was then that she noticed several smudges of mud on the man’s riding boots and one on the knee of his pantaloons. The white of his shirt also had a splash of red dots. Blood? The room swirled before her eyes, and she thought to faint, but she locked her knees in place to prevent a swoon, though she knew better than to hold her position for long, but long enough to take in several restoring breaths. “What has happened to Mr. Darcy?” she demanded.
“Darcy has been shot, miss,” the man declared in solemn tones. “We are not confident of his survival. I have been instructed by the colonel to deliver the news to Miss Bennet.”
“Will he survive?” Elizabeth implored, as the room again spun before her eyes. Mary had been close enough to offer an arm for Elizabeth’s support.
“I cannot say with confidence, Miss Elizabeth,” Mr. Bingley offered in sympathetic tones. “Fortunately, there was an army captain also in the park this morning. He is a surgeon and has performed an operation on Darcy to remove the bullet and several fragments.”
Elizabeth’s mother shrieked in despair. “It cannot be,” she declared. “He is to marry our Jane on Thursday.”
“I fear, ma’am, even if Darcy survives, it will be many weeks before a marriage can be considered.”
“You were with him?” Elizabeth demanded, ignoring her mother’s hysterics. “How did it happen? Are London’s streets so lawless? Was this in Mayfair?”
“One of the parks on the rim of Mayfair. A riding trail employed there by many gentlemen in the early hours so they may give their horses their heads while the ladies have yet to rise for the day.”
Elizabeth continued to ask the questions which remained silent on Jane’s lips. “Did Mr. Darcy argue with the man who shot him?”
With a shake of his head in the negative, Mr. Bingley denied the idea. “No, he was offering me an apology for what was supposedly an affront of my person. I was quite irritated with him, but not enough to wish him harm. Darcy has been a steady companion since our university days. Even when we do not see each other for long periods, I have always loyally considered him a solid bloke. A chum. An honest friend.”
“Then a complete stranger shot him? Was the man drunk?” Elizabeth still asked the questions that should have been on Jane’s lips.
“No.” Mr. Bingley again shook off her assumptions. “Darcy had argued with the man, some four days prior. A long-standing disagreement with the son of his father’s former land agent.”
Elizabeth again reached for Mary’s arm for support, while her father stated what she already knew. “Mr. Wickham attempted to kill Mr. Darcy and then came to Hertfordshire to retrieve our Lydia and take her back to Newcastle as if nothing untoward had occurred?”
Mrs. Bennet screeched for her smelling salts and swooned onto the nearest couch. “Our Lydia will be ruined! What are we to do?”
“One disaster at a time, Mrs. Bennet!” her father barked his instructions. To Mr. Bingley, he said, “You were charged with a task, young man. You should be about it.”
Mr. Bingley squared his shoulders. “Colonel Fitzwilliam seemed to believe Miss Bennet would wish to oversee Darcy’s care.”
“Would it not be more appropriate for the colonel and Miss Darcy to do so?” Jane pleaded. She looked about her as if someone else should make the decision for her. “I am not customarily helpful in such situations.”
“You must go, Jane!” Mrs. Bennet had sat up. “A death bed wedding would present you with the privileges of Mr. Darcy’s widow.”
Elizabeth noticed that both Jane and Mr. Bingley flinched, while Jane declared, “Mama, such is not appropriate.”
Elizabeth said solemnly, “I believe you must go, Jane. Our trunks are already packed. Leave the wedding clothes here. You are not of the nature of one who wishes to be Mr. Darcy’s bride at all costs, but you owe the gentleman your loyalty—one way or the other, you should be near. Moreover, Miss Darcy could use the support of Miss Jane Bennet, her brother’s betrothed, at this time. If there is the smallest chance you can arrive in time to speak your devotion or your farewells, it must be done.”
“You will go with me?” Jane asked tentatively. “You know I faint at the sight of blood. You and Mary are much better with those who are ill or injured.”
Elizabeth looked to Mary, who nodded her agreement. “Mr. Ericks would demand it of me,” her sister said softly.
In less than a half hour, trunks had been sorted and placed on Mr. Bingley’s coach. Cook had provided a basket of bread and cheese and cakes, but none of them appeared hungry.
“I pray Jane will not be a widow before she has the opportunity to know marriage,” Mrs. Bennet declared incontinued insensibility, as they all departed the house for a second time on this day.
