Page 12 of Love Among the Shadows
“Is this about the so-called ‘Mr Darcy curse,’ then?” Elizabeth asked, her voice sharp with defiance. “I place no stock in such foolish notions. I believe there is a rational explanation, and I mean to find it.”
Darcy stiffened at her words, his eyes narrowing. “And how, pray, do you intend to uncover this explanation, Miss Bennet? By playing detective?”
Her heart quickened at the challenge in his tone. “If reason and observation lead to the truth, then why not?”
He took a step closer, his presence commanding, though his voice softened slightly. “I must urge you to reconsider. This is not a matter for curiosity or amateur sleuthing. There are forces at play here you do not fully comprehend.”
“And you do, Mr Darcy?” Elizabeth met his gaze squarely. “If you possess such knowledge, why not share it with the proper authorities?”
His jaw tightened, and for a moment, he seemed at a loss for words. Finally, he said, “I merely suggest that you exercise caution. This is not a game.”
“Nor is it a curse, Mr Darcy. But you need not trouble yourself on my account. I am quite capable of exercising caution, even as I seek the truth.” Elizabeth’s lips curved into a faint smile, though it held little warmth.
Without waiting for a reply, she stepped past him, her steps brisk as she resumed her walk. She didn’t look back, but she could tell that Mr Darcy remained where he stood, watching her retreating figure.
Elizabeth’s heart beat more quickly as she continued along the path, though she told herself it was merely the exertionof her brisk pace. She scarcely understood where she had mustered the courage to address Mr Darcy so directly, but she had done so, and it left her with a curious mix of satisfaction and trepidation.
What if he should seek to retaliate?
The thought struck her suddenly, sharp and unwelcome, like the hammer of a blacksmith upon a glowing iron. A cold shiver traced the length of her spine as her mind considered the possibility. Yet, she reasoned, she could not dwell on such fears. If Mr Darcy harboured any malice toward her, she would have to take her chances.
Still, she resolved to exercise greater caution in the future. Her solitary walks would now require company, she determined, if only to provide her with the security of an additional pair of eyes. And should Mr Darcy entertain any notions of bringing harm to her at Longbourn, he would find himself thwarted, she thought firmly. The house was bustling with family and servants; such a scheme would be near impossible to execute.
No,she concluded, lifting her chin as if to defy the very notion of fear.Mr Darcy may be many things, but he cannot intimidate me into silence.
With that thought, she quickened her pace, her resolve hardening with each step.
His words lingered in her mind, though she dismissed them. She had no intention of heeding his warnings. The truth was out there, and she would uncover it—whether or not Mr Darcy approved.
***
Darcy stood transfixed, his gaze following Miss Bennet as she walked briskly away. He scarcely realised how far he had strayed from Netherfield, enough to chance upon someone returningfrom Meryton. The encounter had been wholly unexpected; he had not anticipated seeing her there, so far from Longbourn.
His thoughts, however, lingered not on the meeting itself but on her. He had first noticed her at the Meryton ball, her fine eyes catching his attention amidst the evening’s festivities. Were it not for the unfortunate interference of Mr Edwin Harper, whose vulgar comments and drunken demeanour had soured his mood—especially the man’s coarse remarks that demeaned Miss Bingley—Darcy might not have been so curt when Bingley suggested he ask her to dance.
He had said it then, in a moment of pique, that she was not handsome enough to tempt him. Yet the memory of her fine eyes and her composed manner suggested otherwise. Handsome enough? Indeed, far more so than he had been willing to admit at the time.
And yet, judging by her manner now, it was clear she thought little of him. Her words had been sharp, her tone bordering on insolence. Still, there had been intellect behind her declaration—a refusal to believe in the superstitious whispers of a so-called curse. That was commendable. Yet her determination to uncover the killer unnerved him.
“This is no game,” he murmured under his breath, his voice lost to the rustling wind. If there was indeed a killer targeting those with whom he had quarrelled, the danger was all too real. The thought of Elizabeth Bennet embroiled in such a peril left a bitter taste in his mouth. She was stubborn, that much was evident, but stubbornness in this matter was folly.
And yet…You admire her?The thought came unbidden, and Darcy shook his head sharply, as though to dispel it. No,admirewas too strong a word. Perhaps he merely considered her… handsome enough. Yes, that was all. And yet, her determination, her sharpness, and her spirited manner lingered in his mind, refusing to be dismissed.
Elizabeth Bennet investigating such matters could lead only to disaster. Worse still, it could lead to her death should she persist too far. That, Darcy resolved, must not happen.
This has to end, he decided, his mind turning to the letter he would draft upon his return to Netherfield. Richard must come, and quickly. With his cousin’s skill in interrogation and investigation, they might uncover the truth, silence the rumours, and put an end to the absurd talk of a Darcy curse once and for all.
Steeling himself, Darcy turned back toward Netherfield, his steps deliberate, his mind heavy with resolve.
Eight
Darcy sat at the escritoire in his chamber, the candlelight casting flickering shadows upon the sheet of paper before him. His pen hovered momentarily as he reread the letter, ensuring each word conveyed the gravity of the situation. The letter read:
Netherfield Park, Hertfordshire
October 18th
My dear Richard,
