Page 51 of Lord Lonbourn's Daughter
Miss Darcy’s eyes darted to Elizabeth’s corner.
“Did you see whether Kitty and Lydia travelled together?” Elizabeth interrupted.
“No, I…” the girl muttered and looked away.
“What do we do now?” the colonel interjected.
“We wait,” Mr Darcy suggested. “I am positive a new extortion letter will arrive soon.”
“You may wait. I am going to Bennet House to see what can be done,” Elizabeth pronounced and moved for the door.
“Elizabeth, wait!”
“I shall be back when a course of action has been agreed upon, Mr Darcy,” she replied, then left without further ado.
Chapter 16 Shakedown
Elizabeth felt awful the minute she tramped out of Mr Darcy’s chamber. He was injured, he was her husband, her place was with him, but he rankled her no end.
They had entered this chaos as a unit, but now it felt like they were fighting different battles—he on the Darcy/Fitzwilliam side, she on the Bennet side—and she knew not how to bridge the gap. All she knew was that she should not have left him for a second time that day. She should have stayed and shooed everybody else out of the room and let him rest before he took permanent damage to his head by overtaxing himself. She was a wretched wife.
Lord Longbourn returned home just as she stepped out of Darcy House. Elizabeth hurried to his side and related all the news. Her father looked relieved that Miss Darcy had been found and listened intently to the new developments.
“This changes everything. We have been looking for a carriage containing three young girls and their companion. That they were separated so soon after leaving Ramsgate is of vital importance.”
“My thoughts exactly! Mr Darcy and his cousins seem to think that all we can do is wait, but there must be something more.Perhaps you could discuss the matter with Mr Darcy and the colonel?”
“They are not wrong—we must wait for the kidnappers’ next move—but there is something we can do in the meantime. I must give this latest information to the men who are out looking for Lydia. I must away at once. I only wish that I knew what kind of carriage she was taken in.”
“So do I, but Miss Darcy is not a dependable eye-witness. She does not seem particularly attentive to anything but her own concerns,” Elizabeth remarked uncharitably.
“In that she resembles every sixteen-year-old girl I have ever encountered. It probably applies to the boys as well, but you know my experience in that area is limited. It is like their brains have not fully developed yet. But rest easy, my Lizzy. They all grow up in the end—and much too soon from a father’s point of view.”
Elizabeth went around the desk, embraced her father, and kissed his forehead before she resumed her seat.
“What has been decided about Jane and Mr Bingley’s wedding?” Elizabeth enquired whilst Lord Longbourn rang the bell to order his carriage.
“We can do nothing but wait for the banns to be read. The archbishop is a stubborn old man, and he refuses to sign a special licence for a nobody—his words not mine. I tried to reason with him, but it was no use.” Lord Longbourn sighed. “Perhaps we ought to delay the reading now that Miss Darcy has been rescued. The scoundrel may take umbrage against us thwarting his plan and make new demands. He might change his mind and wish to foist her upon the disobedient colonel who found his captive before she was returned. I dare say the colonel would not mourn his loss of freedom if it were so.”
“Why do you say that?” Elizabeth enquired.
“Who could resent being tied to our Jane? I declare there is not a single gentleman in all of England that would object,” Lord Longbourn quipped.
“I suspect you are right, Father,” Elizabeth agreed.
The butler entered to announce the carriage was ready, and her father left.
Darcy House was quiet when Elizabeth returned after talking briefly to her sisters. Jane had looked like she had something to relate, but there was no opportunity, and Elizabeth was eager to go home. She knocked on the connecting door to her husband’s chamber as soon as she had refreshed herself, but there was no answer. She tried the door handle; it was not locked. As quietly as possible, she entered the dimly lit room and tiptoed to the edge of the bed. Mr Darcy was asleep, but his sister was still sitting in a chair by the hearth.
“You may retire now, Miss Darcy. I shall sit with your brother.”
For a moment, Elizabeth feared the girl would protest, but she nodded and left quietly.
Elizabeth had thought she could read to her husband, but that seemed a little pointless now—it would only disturb his sleep. Instead, she watched over him, looking for signs of unrest or pain, but he did not seem bothered. He had probably taken laudanum to help him sleep and ease the discomfort. An old memory of her mother came to her mind. Elizabeth had spent countless nights by her mother’s bedside, but this was another sort of memory. They were lying in a field of flowers, looking up at the clouds passing by. It was like her mother was reaching out to her from beyond the grave, trying to tell her something significant, but it was just out of her reach.
Elizabeth awoke to a gentle hand stroking her hair. Her dream about her mother made her uncertain whether she was really awake or caught in the grey area between consciousness and senselessness.
She lifted her head from the bed and looked into the stormy blue eyes of her husband.
