Too Close to Mr Darcy Page 10

  She grabbed Miss Anne's hand and pulled her towards a cluster of bushes. While parting their branches in search of the nest, she pointed at the large buds covering them, ready to bloom soon. She brought purple crocuses, knapweed and oxeye daisies for Miss Anne to admire.

  Cradling the delicate blossom of a flower and inhaling its intoxicating scent, Miss Anne sighed with delight.

  "Thank you for showing me all this," she said, looking straight into Elizabeth's eyes. "Even if I had agreed to go outside for a walk before, I would not have had the eyes to see all this beauty on my own." She lowered her gaze then and walked back to the blanket.

  Elizabeth's heart sang. Her precarious plan had turned into a success. Even if Miss Anne did not look one bit healthier than she did in her dark bedroom, at least her spirit was high and a smile had erased her melancholic expression.

  "I would like to sit here before we head back to the house," Miss Anne announced. "I do not believe I have the strength to walk all the way there just yet. Unless you offer to carry me, of course, which might make our approaching the front door rather awkward."

  Elizabeth laughed as her mistress tried and failed to stifle a snort. Miss Anne could be quite amusing when she was in a good mood.

  "Rest as much as you would like," Elizabeth said. "Do you mind if I take a look around? I would not be far. I would like to see if there are any daffodils already. I will bring some back for you to enjoy."

  "Please, do not go out of sight," the young mistress begged. "I do not feel quite well enough yet to be left on my own."

  Although Elizabeth longed to run and explore the forest some more, she saw the sincere need in Miss Anne's eyes and stifled her desire in favor of honoring hers.

  "Certainly," she said softly. "I will remain right here."

  She ventured only to the edge of the woods, careful to stay within her mistress' view, and surveyed the scenery. A net of tree trunks and boulders, their damp bark covered in green lichen, spread before her eyes.

  Suddenly, there was a flash of red. And a rustling.

  Was this a bird scooping in and out of a tree hollow? No, it was larger and...

  Here it was again!

  A patch of scarlet red fabric whooshed in the wind not too far from the clearing. Elizabeth's breath caught. Someone was coming!

  If the two of them were discovered here, she might be sent home before Lady Catherine’s afternoon tea had even cooled. It was strictly against both the doctor's and her mother's recommendation that Miss Anne should leave the house under any pretext. Elizabeth could almost taste the stale bread and bland tea she had to once again endure back at Longbourn in the company of Cousin Henrieta.

  "Quickly!" she almost hissed as she crept back towards the blanket, bending over to prevent the intruder from seeing her. "We must go! Someone is approaching."

  A branch snapped somewhere nearby as if trodden on by a heavy foot.

  Immediately, Elizabeth began gathering their things and fastening her mistress's various ties, buttons and ribbons, so they could depart at once. Only, their way back was cut off by the person wearing the scarlet cape.

  Elizabeth's mind raced to find a solution. Before Miss Anne could say anything, she took her hand and both of them plunged into the forest on the opposite side of the clearing. Miss Anne tugged on her hand and Elizabeth realized her mistress was out of breath. They needed to stop for a moment's rest. While she let her take a pause, Elizabeth glanced back at the clearing and gasped.

  While she had hastened to get Miss Anne ready to leave, Elizabeth had lost track of her own belongings. Now a tell-tale white handkerchief with her embroidered initials lay sprawled on the carpet of dry leaves and pine needles right in the middle of the clearing. She needed to retrieve it.

  "Stay here," she called to her mistress over her shoulder as she retraced her steps out of the woods and back onto the open patch of grass. She scurried towards the piece of white fabric and bent to pick it, short of breath. As she sighed with relief and rose to return to Miss Anne, her eyes locked on another set of dark brown irises trained on hers.

  At first, Elizabeth could not comprehend what she was seeing but still, her heart started beating faster, sensing danger. When her mind caught up, she knew she was looking straight at the person who had sneaked through the brambles to spy on them.

  It was no other than Mr. Darcy himself, his face framed by the gnarly branches of the trees on the other side of the clearing and his cape flapping angrily in the rising wind. His expression was inscrutable and his stare unwavering.

  Elizabeth felt as if he had pinned her to her place with the sheer strength of his gaze. She begged him silently with her eyes not to say a word, not to make contact with her out here in the middle of the woods, to simply let her be and continue on his way. He stood motionless, taking her in.

  Finally, his eyes let her off his hook. Elizabeth slumped like a puppet whose master had eased his grip on its strings. Mr. Darcy looked away and over to her side to a spot just behind her. Instinctively, Elizabeth turned to see what had caught his attention.

  "Miss Bennet?" Miss Anne's voice came through the undergrowth, startling Elizabeth. Immediately after, the branches stirred and her figure came into view. Despite the multiple layers of clothing that covered her and the fairly disheveled state she was in, her voice gave away her identity unmistakably.

  Elizabeth wanted to hush her and motion for her to hide back into the obscurity of the woods, but it was too late. When she turned back towards Mr. Darcy, the gentleman was already departing. He shot her a final look, lifting his brow to indicate his surprise at what he had observed.

  As Miss Anne emerged fully out into the clearing, he was no longer visible from the two women's vantage point. Only little cracks and snaps gave away his presence and those could be easily explained away with falling pine cones or a squirrel rummaging in the foliage nearby.

  Elizabeth was certain that the last look Mr. Darcy had sent her way would be the one thing keeping her up at night for days to come. Her stomach was squeezed with trepidation.

  "What is the matter, Miss Elizabeth?" Miss Anne asked impatiently. "Have you seen something? Please, do not tell me it was a wild boar. Of all wild beasts, I find that one the most frightening and repulsive. Oh, the way it grunts and runs so much faster than you would expect of its clumsy body..."

  "No," Elizabeth said absently, still staring in the direction where Mr. Darcy had disappeared. What had that raised eyebrow meant? Was he going to respect her secret and keep it? Or was she hours away from being called to see Lady Catherine who would duly punish her for her reckless behavior?

  After all, Elizabeth had knowingly jeopardized Miss Anne's health and while the latter looked no better and no worse than she had previously, Elizabeth was convinced that the trip to the woods had done her good. Still, it was the second time Mr. Darcy had caught her doing something outrageous that clearly defied his aunt's wishes. Whatever would stop him from casually mentioning to her what he had seen?

  A sudden gust of wind blew past them and Elizabeth snapped back to the present. Miss Anne gasped at her side as the blast caught her loosely tied bonnet and carried it off into the air. Elizabeth had forgotten she had loosened the knot at her mistress' throat to allow her to breathe more easily and now the wind ruffled the young girl's bare curls.

  Without giving it a second thought, Elizabeth stormed after the flying bonnet through the maze of tree branches and brambles.

  "Elizabeth, wait!" Miss Anne called out.

  Elizabeth could hear her tiny, rushed steps following behind and did not turn, her mind focused solely on retrieving the hat. In the unlikely case that Mr. Darcy spared her, she should return her mistress to the house in a state decent enough so that if the two of them were spotted again, she could at least explain away their absence. It would not look as if she had taken every precaution to preserve Miss Anne's wellbeing if she returned her mistress bare-headed.

  Elizabeth ran as if she were being
chased by a wild animal. Her chest stung and her eyes watered. The bonnet caught onto a branch and Elizabeth's eyes glistened with hope as she reached to retrieve it when another gust of wind dislodged it and carried it off out of the woods. It tumbled down a meadow that lay beyond the trees.

  Out in the open, the wind was even more severe. It whistled threateningly into Elizabeth's ears as it whipped her face and whirled around her, lifting clouds of dust and sand to dull her sight. In her obsession to reach the flying bonnet, Elizabeth did not realize that she no longer heard Miss Anne's strained breathing or her pleas for Elizabeth to slow her step and wait for her.

  The bonnet fell into the sea of fresh green grass and rolled about alongside a clutch of prickly shrubs. A new current took it up with force and sent it flying hopelessly out of Elizabeth's reach. Exhausted and on the verge of tears, Elizabeth fell to her knees, wheezing and gasping for air. Only now did she realize that the only sound she heard was the somber wail of the wind and her own strained breathing.

  "Miss Anne?" she called and turned. "Miss Anne?" Nearly shrieking this time, Elizabeth pushed herself back onto her feet and looked around the endless expanse of swaying grass.

  A few yards away towards the shadowy silhouette of the woods, in a nest of grass, lay the lifeless body of Anne de Bourgh.

  14

  Elizabeth paced anxiously before Miss Anne's closed bedroom door. The only sounds she could hear coming from inside the room were hushed tones and the occasional clink of glass against glass. She suspected that the doctor was dispensing medicine to his young patient and her mother alike. Upon seeing her daughter half-conscious and with cheeks as red as a beet, the older woman had nearly fainted herself.

  Elizabeth was rightly nervous. She continued to blame herself for her recklessness. She still stood by her choice to take her mistress outside and its potential benefits, but she kept reprimanding herself for rushing things too much. At first, she should have only asked Miss Anne to take in some sunlight on a terrace, tightly woven in her blankets until she got used to the fresh air she had been deprived of for so long.

  There was no one in sight in the dark, candlelit corridor where Elizabeth paced back and forth, waiting for her verdict. She realized she had stopped breathing as she finally discerned the sound of footsteps behind the closed door. For a brief moment, she debated whether she should hide somewhere to avoid Lady Catherine's wrath. That would only be postponing the inevitable.

  At long last, the door opened and a despondent Lady Catherine emerged, walking straight past Elizabeth. She appeared so stricken by grief she was nearly blinded and perhaps took Elizabeth for a maid that waited for her turn to go inside.

  Miss Ashburn was the next to come out of the bedchamber, carefully closing the door after herself and pasting her ear briefly to the wooden panel to make sure she had not stirred up too much noise. When she turned and faced Elizabeth, a hand flew up to her chest.

  "Ah, Miss Elizabeth, you scared me," she said. "I did not expect to find you here. I thought you had orders to return to your room and wait there."

  "I know," Elizabeth whispered, her fingernails digging into the thin fabric of her gloves. "I was told to stay there until I was called for but I simply could not find any peace there." She sighed heavily. "At this point, I doubt I could make matters any worse for myself, even if I were to follow all the orders issued to me. All I wanted was to make sure Miss Anne was all right."

  Miss Ashburn did not speak right away. She studied Elizabeth with curiosity as if she were examining an odd specimen of exotic insect.

  "And you were not afraid to come here and possibly face Lady Catherine?" she asked eventually.

  "I was, of course," Elizabeth admitted. "I am always a touch afraid when it comes to facing Lady Catherine, today most of all. However, my need to see whether I have been the cause for Miss Anne's health to decline was stronger than any fear I might have harbored. I trust I would be leaving Rosings sooner than I would have liked but at least I can do so with a lightened heart if I knew that Miss Anne was fine."

  "And what if she is not?" Miss Ashburn continued to prod.

  "Is she awake?" Elizabeth asked to avoid facing the grim possibility. She would truly be unable to forgive herself in the event that she had inflicted grave damage to the young girl she had grown to love over the past few days.

  "She is now and the doctor is with her. He asked for privacy and sent us away." Miss Ashburn turned to follow her mistress but changed her mind and rushed to stand so close to Elizabeth, the latter could feel the woman's warm breath on her face. After shooting a quick glance over her shoulder, Miss Ashburn took Elizabeth's hands into hers and leaned even closer to whisper into her ear.

  "You are an unusual one," she said. "I would hate to see you share the same fate as Miss Anne's previous companions. If it is within my power to persuade Lady Catherine of your merits, I would be sure to speak my mind. She is relentless, however. And stubborn as a mule. And now her dearest person is at stake..."

  "Thank you," Elizabeth whispered back. "I will hold fond memories of our short acquaintance once I am gone. I do not expect anything might persuade Lady Catherine in my favor currently but it has been a delight to get to know you."

  "Likewise."

  Miss Ashburn released Elizabeth, picked up her skirts and fled down the corridor to catch up with her mistress.

  "Come to the parlor for tea," she called before she disappeared behind a turn. "We are all gathering there to await news."

  Elizabeth stayed behind. She could remain right where she was and be the first to hear the doctor's assessment directly from him when he stepped out. Or, she could face her fears and walk into a room where everyone thought she was a simple-headed murderer.

  It was not in her nature to lurk in a corner and avoid confrontation, however. Besides, exchanging a form of goodbye with Miss Ashburn had released something within her. She had begun to accept her fate and be at peace with it. If she were to leave Rosings tomorrow, at least she would do so with her head held high and her dignity intact.

  All of Rosings' occupants were present in the parlor, their faces grim and their eyes on the floor. Barely anyone acknowledged Elizabeth's arrival, their minds focused on the tragedy that had befallen the home. Lady Catherine was seated in a large wing chair by the booming fireplace, engaged in a whispered conversation with Colonel Fitzwilliam.

  She looked up at the door for only an instant but long enough to stab Elizabeth with a reproachful stare. She did not scream for her to leave, though, so Elizabeth advanced into the room and quietly took her place on an unoccupied chair.

  Mr. Darcy was standing by the window, looking out at the slate gray sky. A storm was approaching, brought about by the strong wind. Dark clouds crawled over the horizon.

  A maid placed a teacup on the low table in front of Elizabeth and she was relieved to busy herself with the preparations of the drink. Despite Miss Ashburn's comforting presence, Elizabeth felt hopelessly alone and a subject of rightful judgment and blame. Bringing the steaming cup of tea to her lips, she inhaled the invigorating aroma and was immediately soothed and reassured. Warmth spread within her stomach and radiated towards her limbs, easing the sensation that her chest was squeezed by a vice.

  Over the rim of her cup, she finally looked into Mr. Darcy's distant eyes, hoping to gauge his opinion of her reckless actions. Why she cared more about his judgment than anyone else's, she could not tell. Perhaps it was because it had been him carrying Miss Anne's lifeless body all the way to the house after the accident.

  When he had heard Elizabeth's desperate screams, he had rushed to the spot where she was kneeling over her faint mistress. Without a word, he had picked the young woman up and brought her back to the safety of home. Elizabeth had trailed behind him, struggling to catch up and wishing he would at least utter a word of admonishment instead of remaining so infuriatingly quiet the entire time. It would have been easier to bear.

  His expression was inscrutable now
as well. Did he think she was a monster? Did he blame her for his future wife's ordeal?

  While she ruminated on Mr. Darcy's view of her, he suddenly turned to face her. Their eyes locked. Elizabeth felt heat rise to her cheeks, a sensation she could not ascribe to her now empty teacup. He did not smile nor frown nor narrow his eyes at her. He was simply looking, testing, challenging her perhaps.

  For an instant, Elizabeth forgot where she was. There was no fire, no people whispering to each other, no lingering tea scent, and no recent tragedy. There was only the pull of a set of dark eyes that tore past her defenses and left her weakened and light-headed.

  Thankfully, not a moment later, Dr. Morton walked into the parlor and commanded everyone's attention. Elizabeth sucked in a lungful of air once Mr. Darcy's powerful stare finally released her. Only now she realized she had been holding her breath.

  "Doctor?" Lady Catherine said in a pained tone, slightly rising in her seat, her hands clutching the chair's arms. "How is Anne? Will she make it through?"

  Dr. Morton removed his spectacles and ran his fingers through the sweaty, thinning hair on the crown of his head.

  "I must admit I am most dumbfounded," he said at last. His expression confirmed his words.

  "Whatever has happened?" Lady Catherine said, her voice wavering.

  Elizabeth was perched on the edge of her seat, barely keeping from rushing over to the listless doctor and shaking his shoulders so he might speak faster.

  "After a careful examination," Dr. Morton said, "I have to admit I am seeing a noted improvement in Miss de Bourgh's constitution."

  "But—" Lady Catherine started.

  "After she woke up," the doctor said, clearly too astonished by his findings to acknowledge her interruption, "she asked for a biscuit with butter and jam."

  Lady Catherine and Miss Ashburn gasped. The two gentlemen did not find the piece of news nearly as shocking, but they were also not aware that Miss Anne had been subsisting on a spoonful of mashed peas for weeks now. With her appetite absent, it had been a struggle to get her to eat anything apart from drafts, potions and a bit of beef broth.