Page 19 of Losing Lizzy
“She would never leave the door open,” Elizabeth said, her voice trembling. “The lady lives alone, and, of late, there has been an influx of men searching for food and goods to either sell or pawn for money.”
Darcy edged around the corner of a large china chest to note a middle-aged woman sprawled out on the floor, a trickle of blood marking her forehead. He knelt to examine the lady’s condition, but Elizabeth sprinted around him, calling out as she opened doors along the hall.
“Lizzy! Lizzy Anne!” She slammed another door and rushed the stairs. “Lizzy! Come out! Do not be frightened! Lizzy!” she screamed, turning in circles.
He caught her then, holding her in place. “Who is Lizzy?” he demanded. She sucked in a quick breath, but he knew her beyond recovery because of the wild look in her eyes. He presented her a good shake, his own anxiety rising quickly. “Who is Lizzy?” he repeated.
“Our daughter,” she murmured, collapsing against him.
Chapter Seven
“Daughter?” he questioned. Shefelt him sway in place, but he held her to him.
Elizabeth’s mind attempted to understand what had occurred. “There must be—” her mind repeated. Needing to continue her search, she broke free of him.
She looked at him as if seeing him for the first time. Her head felt foggy, and she gave it a good shake to clear it, but to no relief. Her mind kept repeating two words: Lizzy. William. Lizzy. William.
Elizabeth stumbled away from him. Although she knew her thoughts irrational, she had to act immediately. Racing up the stairs, she continued to call her daughter’s name, going so far as to look inside wardrobes, behind drapes and under beds. “Elizabeth Anne Dartmore, show yourself!” she ordered in her best mother’s voice, but nothing in the house stirred.
She rushed back to the top of the stairs to stare down at him. He had not moved. “Did you take her?” she demanded. “Please do not take her from me, William. I cannot live without her. I nearly died giving birth to her!” Again, a sense of urgency filled her. What were the chances that her wayward betrothed returned on the very same day as her daughter had gone missing?
“I did not know I had a daughter,” he declared in a voice that spoke of dismay, but Elizabeth could not be certain of his honesty. It was all too convenient. Moreover, she knew Mr.Darcy a powerful man, who would do all possible to have what he wanted.
* * *
Her announcement of the existence of their daughter had shaken Darcy’s world as nothing ever had. Immediately, he understood why Elizabeth had made use of the tale of a deceased husband. Even before she broke away from him, Darcy knew what she was thinking: He would have thought it also if the situation had been reversed. Such did not mean when she accused him of stealing away their child that it did not rip away part of his soul.
He had stood his ground as she frantically searched for the child. “Elizabeth Anne,” he had whispered, learning his daughter’s name. Named for the girl’s mother and his. Even though he had not been present in her life, Elizabeth had presented the child his mother’s Christian name: Anne.
“I did not know I had a daughter,” he had responded to her accusation. He found breathing difficult, as she stared down at him: Vehemence marked her features.
“You have yet to explain where you have been for four years,” she hissed. She rushed down the steps to strike him. “How could you? I loved you!” She hit him again, her fist pounding against his chest. Her anger had not come simply from her fears for their daughter, but, also, for all she had endured because he had trusted the wrong people. He stood very still and permitted her finally to express her rage at the world. At least, one of them should be free of guilt.
He braced himself for each blow. For four years he had stood strong when the Devil himself used his whip against him, but nothing had ever executed the kind of damage her small fists did.
Eventually, she wrapped her hands about the lapels of his coat and tugged hard, as if she wished to rip out his heart. She had no idea she had accomplished exactly that. “Did you take her?” she begged, sobbing against his shirt. “Did you come today to tell me you meant to take Lizzy away?”
He did not answer. Darcy knew her reason would arrive when her emotions had been spent. Instead, he wrapped his arms about her and held her against him. “I would never punish you. If I had known we shared a child, I would have come, but it would have been for both the child and her mother.” She fought to be free of him; yet, he held her in place. “You know my heart, Elizabeth,” he bent his head to whisper into her ear. “If anyone knows me, it is you. I have shared more of myself with you than with any other person of my acquaintance. Even more than with my sister. I know others, those who have never exchanged even the slightest form of interaction with me, speak of me as an arrogant, uncaring person. I know how I appear to the world. You, too, once held such thoughts,” he ventured, “however, I pray I have proved otherwise.”
She sagged against him. “You must have her,” she pleaded. “You would keep her safe when others would not.”
“We will find her. I promise.” He spoke with more calmness than he felt. Darcy knew in his heart he would destroy whoever had separated the child from her mother. Even if Elizabeth never was his, his vengeance would be forthcoming. “Let us see to Mrs. Harris. Perhaps the lady can tell us what has occurred.”
She nodded her agreement and released her hold on his coat.
He turned her to where the woman remained unconscious upon the floor. Elizabeth broke away from him to examine Mrs. Harris’s wound. “Fetch me the water bowl and a clean cloth,” she ordered.
Darcy did as she instructed and then knelt beside her. Elizabeth dabbed the cloth in the water to wash the lady’s face. “Mrs. Harris,” she said in calmer tones than previously. “It is Elizabeth. Can you hear me?”
The woman’s eyes fluttered open and closed several times before they focused on Elizabeth. “Mrs. ... Dartmore,” she whispered in recognition before panic crossed her features. The woman pushed herself to a seated position. “Is Lizzy well?”
Elizabeth’s features crumbled. “Do you know whatbecame of my daughter?” she asked through trembling lips.
The woman held her head in obvious pain. “I told her to run. Mr. Townsend came for her, but you’d never said you trusted the man. He pushed his way into the house. I kept telling him ‘no,’ but he would not listen. When I struggled with him, I told Lizzy to run home.”
Elizabeth’s hand shook, and he thought she, too, might faint. Therefore, he gave her a task to keep her focused. “I will remain with the lady. You return to the shop and search out Lizzy there. Send Jasper to fetch a doctor and instruct him to join me here. If you have Townsend’s directions send them along with my man.” He squeezed the back of her hand to make certain she was understanding him.
“I told him where Lizzy was,” she admitted, tears returning to her eyes. “When I rejected his overtures, I told him I had to leave the shop to come fetch Lizzy.”
