Chapter Twenty

Standing in the yard, Darcy reached to help Miss Elizabeth down from the carriage. Bingley had already hurried into the house to attend to some matter or other. Due to their travails at Triple Creek, both Darcy and Miss Elizabeth had ruined their gloves. When their bare hands touched, the young beauty drew in a quick breath. He was tall enough that her face was only just higher than his as she sat in the carriage. They locked eyes. Darcy realized at that moment that he had never been so bewitched by any woman as he was by her. He really believed, that were it not for the inferiority of her situation and connections, he would be seriously contemplating marriage. And the look in her fine eyes held an intensity that made him certain she shared his fascination. His attraction to her was so strong, he realized he was in danger of leaning forward and claiming a kiss from her red lips.

But that would be wrong in so many ways. The impropriety was obvious. The damage to her reputation would be irreparable. And she would despise him for taking such advantage of her. Instead, he stepped back and gently guided her to the ground. He flattered himself that she was not unaffected by the incident, as she hurried past him into the house. He berated himself for his ungentlemanly behavior. He had frightened her, he was sure. And worse, he may have given rise to expectations that he was not willing to meet. He had to control himself better.

Miss Bennet was well enough to join them for dinner that evening. Bingley was completely captivated by the fragile creature. She, in turn seemed willing to be admired by him. After the meal they sat in the parlor.

“We are very appreciative of your hospitality,” Miss Elizabeth addressed Bingley. “But we feel it is time for us to return to our home. I can continue Jane’s treatment there and we can relieve you of the unenviable duty of hosting an invalid.”

“Nonsense,” Bingley objected. “With what happened today, it is too dangerous for you to make such a move.”

“We were not planning on leaving just yet,” Miss Bennet soothed. “If we may trespass one night longer, and you will lend us your carriage, we will return home after services tomorrow.”

“Must you?” Miss Bingley said with some semblance of sincerity.

“As you pointed out, there are still dangers afoot. I need to return to Longbourn to protect my family. Jane needs my continued care. And …” she hesitated, “if we are not here, you have the flexibility you may need, should things turn for the worse.”

“You are driven by tactical considerations?” Darcy questioned. He was concerned that his behavior at the carriage may have caused her so much apprehension that she was fleeing an uncomfortable situation.

“In part,” she acknowledged. “But mostly we are driven by the fact that Jane’s improvement has been more rapid than we might have anticipated, and we both miss our home. Your hospitality has been peerless. But home calls to the heart.”

“Poetry, Miss Elizabeth?” Darcy asked.

“Your pardon, I meant no harm by it.” Her smile was slight, but he saw it.

“Very well,” Miss Bingley said. “If it must be, it must be. You will, of course be greatly missed Dearest Jane, and you as well Miss Eliza. You are welcome at Netherfield at any time.”

“Of course, you will both be back for the ball,” Bingley reminded them with great enthusiasm.

“Charles, are you seriously considering a dance at Netherfield? I would advise you, before you fix on it, to consult the wishes of the present party. I am much mistaken if there are not some among us for whom a ball would be rather a punishment than a pleasure.”

“If you mean Darcy,” cried her brother, “He may go to bed before it begins, if he chooses. But as for the ball, it is quite a settled thing. As soon as Cook has made enough white soup I shall send round my cards.”

“I should like balls infinitely better,” Miss Bingley replied, “if they were carried on in a different manner. It would surely be much more rational if conversation instead of dancing made the order of the day.” Her unsubtle glance in Darcy’s direction informed the onlookers of whose sensibilities she was trying to usage.

“Much more rational, my dear Caroline, I dare say, but it would not be near so much like a ball.” Charles turned serious. “I had mentioned that I wanted to do something to assist our neighbors in their recovery. It is my hope that a ball can take their minds off their troubles and fears for at least one evening. It is not much, but it is a start.”

“I think it is a lovely idea,” said Miss Bennet. “I know those invited will spend many happy hours in anticipation and preparation. A joyous event to help drive away the sadness. You are most kind.” Darcy stifled a chuckle at Bingley bright blush.

“Very well,” Bingley said. “But your sister must first set the date. I encourage you to suggest she sets it soon."

For the rest of the evening Darcy kept his distance from the object of his interest. He watched her from across the room. Her insistence on leaving on the morrow, he thought, might be for the best as he was not certain he could contain himself if she was in such proximity for much longer. Knowing she was one floor away was too much of a temptation. He was constantly weighing her attractions; her wit, her fortitude, her loveliness, and her compassion against her defects; most particularly her atrocious family and her near penury. He needed her gone to give him the opportunity to gather his faculties into some semblance of order, so he might give her the consideration she deserved.

As he feigned reading a novel, he often caught her eyes on him from where she sat beside Miss Bennet, as she talked to Bingley and Mrs. Hurst. The clamor of his inner conflict drowned out whatever message she might be sending when their eyes locked. Time and again, he was the one to look away, until she stopped seeking him out. It was still early when Miss Elizabeth insisted her sister needed her rest and they quit the room. Darcy watched her go.

The next morning Darcy and Bingley were up before the dawn, armed for conflict. “You patrol the estate. I will fly further afield. But be careful. There are at least seven malefactors unaccounted for, with the possibility of an unknown number more.”

“You take care as well. At least one of them owes you a bad turn.”

“I will.” Darcy took to the air. He wanted to assure himself the Misses Bennet’s road home would be safe, so he flew over Longbourn. He found nothing, not even the expected encampment of Strangefellows.

He landed where their wagons had been located for weeks. He saw the expected detritus and several signs that they had been there recently, but no longer. What was much more confusing were the tracks, which they had made no effort to disguise, led not to the nearby road, but deeper into the brush on the opposite side of the site. It was obvious there was not enough room between several of the trees for a wagon with the wheelbase evident from the tracks. He was puzzling how they might have accomplished the seemingly impossible task when a familiar voice called from above.

“Florence has a way with plants that occasionally defies explanation. I’d imagine you’ll find the tracks disappear not far into the forest.” Miss Elizabeth leapt from the high bough and landed lightly, absorbing the impact with bended knee. He was stunned by her feline grace. “But they did leave a note.”

She held out a piece of parchment. He stepped back and gestured for her to continue. “No? It seemed you were particularly interested in this part of our land, or the former occupants, to draw you thus from Netherfield.”

He suppressed the feelings of chagrin her rebuke engendered. He had trespassed on her estate to protect her. But he knew she would take greater offence should he admit the truth.

“It says the violence is anathema to their peaceable traditions, so they could no longer continue in the vicinity. They intend to avoid all settlements until they have left the blood and fire far behind.”

She stalked towards him. “I comprehend that you are peerless in your powers. I recognize that you have national jurisdiction. I suspect that you came here this morning, without me, because you wished to render a service to my family or to offer us succor in our time of need. But you must understand this is my land, my family’s. I welcome your assistance and I have relished our partnership these last days. But I will not be put aside. I will not let any man come between me and my responsibilities.”

Darcy stood silent, facing the fury of his diminutive foil. She stood before him, arms akimbo, her eyes lit by the rising sun. Her chestnut locks blowing in the morning breeze. After a moment she shook her head and turned away. Time stretched, but eventually she turned to face him again.

“There is much still to be done. Can we continue to work together?” She offered him her hand, like a man.

“We can.” He took her hand and shook it once.