Page 43 of Her Whole Heart
Behind her, she could hear the other ladies exiting the drawing room, but she was already at the front of the house. The butler, appearing rather concerned, gestured down the steps and to the right. “Miss Darcy left without her cloak, Miss Elizabeth, and it is very cold.” He held two cloaks in his hands. She took the first, tossing it quickly around her shoulders, and grasped the second.
“I shall fetch her,” Elizabeth said, and rushed out. At the top of the steps, she turned to the right and saw Miss Darcy, clearly distraught, making her way through the London crowd about a half a block ahead.
Wherever was she going? Elizabeth felt a rush of shame that they should all have behaved so badly as to send her new friend fleeing into the street to avoid them. Elizabeth flew down the steps after her, noticing as she moved that the cloak she was wearing was too long.
Darcy descended from his carriage, nodding at the footman as Fitz stepped down to the pavement behind him. He turned, glancing aimlessly to the end of the block. His shoulders stiffened as a familiar pale pink bonnet came into view on the far side of the street atop the head of a tallish girl. The rest of her came into view as she edged her way between two gentlemen.
That was Georgiana. What was she doing? Was shewalkingback home?Alone? She knew it was not safe, and that the intersection was especially treacherous this time of day.
He set off in her direction, and Fitz scrambled after him.
“Darcy, what . . .” Fitz hesitated. “Good God, is that Georgie?”
An icy knot of dread formed in Darcy’s stomach as Georgiana approached the busy street without raising her head. The traffic was heavyenough that there were coaches and carts and horses all traversing it at the same time, yet light enough that they were able to move at a decent clip, andshe was not even looking. Darcy’s long legs ate up the distance between them, all weariness forgotten. Surely she could not be so foolish!
As one daintily shod foot stepped out into the chaos, Darcy broke into a run, Fitz at his shoulder.
He could see the pink bonnet bobbing as Georgiana wove precariously between horses and carriages, halfway across the road before she looked up and froze like a frightened doe. Darcy’s eyes moved from his sister in the direction of her gaze and his heart lurched.
A closed carriage drawn by six horses was bearing down upon her.
His feet carried him forward without conscious thought, every muscle tensed in a primal state of terror. He barely heard the shouts of indignation from other pedestrians as he sped past. He could see that he would never reach his sister in time—the realization was a leaden weight in his chest. Yet still he ran, desperately beating back the vision of Georgiana lying broken in a London street. Darcy’s strangled shout was drowned out by the cries of onlookers and the horses’ hooves clattering on the cobblestone like gunshots.
Suddenly, a petite lady in an expensive but ill-fitting cloak appeared like an apparition, mahogany tresses escaping her bonnet as she raced towards Georgiana from the other side of the street. The shock was as great as being struck by lightning, for he knew this bonnet, too, and the slighter form of Miss Elizabeth Bennet. She was nearly flying, her cloak billowing out behind her as she grabbed Georgiana’s arm and pulled her forward. Miss Elizabeth’s momentum propelled both women out of the path of the carriage which barely slowed as it rolled past, the driver hurling curses at the women as he carried on his way.
Georgiana stumbled against her and as she attempted to stop, Miss Elizabeth’s feet slid out from under her on the slick cobblestones. She fell hard, but quickly rolled to her hands and knees, her cloak twisted awkwardly around her. Georgiana reached down to assist, but they were still in the road and several men on horses—they did not stop, so he could not call them gentlemen—rode very near, the hooves clicking only a few feet away from the ladies. Darcy finally reached the corner and plunged into the traffic, placing himself in front of the women, holding his arms aloft and commanding the drivers to halt. A cart driver frowned but directed his team around them. Fitz appeared beside him and took on the job as Darcy at last turned to wrap Georgiana in his arms.
The traffic was quickly routed around them, and Fitz turned to take Georgiana, easily winding one arm around her waist and carrying her back to the safety of the pavement.
Darcy leaned down.
“Your hand, Miss Elizabeth,” he said, still angry at the carelessness of his sister and the callousness of everyone else still watching them without offering assistance. She held up her hand, and without a word, he pulled her to her feet and then swept her into his arms to carry her swiftly out of danger.
“Kindly set me down, sir,” Miss Elizabeth insisted once they were clear of the hazards, and Darcy complied. He took a few steps back, his head turning to where Fitz now held Georgiana in his embrace. His sister was visibly shaken, but thankfully unharmed. Fitz’s own ashen complexion was slowly regaining its normal colour. Then Darcy’s eyes moved back to Miss Elizabeth. Her posture was straight, even bold, but her pulse fluttered wildly in the delicate hollow of her throat, and her bosom rose and fell as she struggled to catch her breath.
Georgiana threw herself against him, her slender, trembling arms wrapping themselves around his torso. “Forgive me, brother,” she whispered, anguish in every syllable. “I never intended to be so unwise. But my cousin and her friend were so horrible I could not stay.”
He would deal with Lady Henrietta later. The overwhelming sense of dread passed from him in one more thunderous heartbeat, and Darcy held his sister close, drained even of his anger. “I am only relieved that you are well,” he murmured. “We will speak of this later.”
“Thank you, Miss Elizabeth,” Georgiana said meekly.
“You are welcome, Miss Darcy,” Miss Elizabeth said, as calmly as if what she had done was the same as pointing out a puddle so that his sister might avoid it. She added, “We should remove from the street.”
Darcy looked at Miss Elizabeth over his sister’s head, and their gazes locked. There was fear in her eyes, quickly masked, and he felt something shift deep within him, something unravelling, some unalterable truth that he did not yet have the power to understand.
“Miss Elizabeth,” he said, surprised at how hoarse he sounded. “I am at a loss to convey . . .”
“Miss Elizabeth is correct,” Fitz interrupted, herding them all back in the direction of Darcy House. “We must move the ladies inside. We have created enough of a spectacle.”
The crowd returned to its business once deprived of their entertainment. No doubt Darcy would hear some version of the tale bandied about at his club and elsewhere, but he cared not for that now. He walked with Georgiana while Fitz offered an arm to Miss Elizabeth and the four of them strolled down the block towards the townhouse as though nothing had happened at all.
Chapter Fourteen
Mr. and Miss Darcy led the way into his townhouse, Elizabeth and the colonel following. An air of disquiet hung over them even as the butler and footmen moved to welcome them with a reassuring efficiency.
“Mr. Yardley,” Mr. Darcy said to his butler as they all handed over their cloaks and coats, “have tea sent to the blue drawing room.”
The colonel pulled the butler aside, but Elizabeth heard him say, “Plenty of sugar, Mr. Yardley.”
