Chapter 7 Mutual Surrender

Darcy searched the garden darkened by the shadows of tall trees, sparsely lit by moonlight fighting its way through the leaf.

Completing a full round without success, he halted and listened instead. He heard a deep sigh and some sniffling wafting through the silent night, no sobs. He could call out to her but that might alert the other dinner guests that he had found her. He wanted a few moments of uninterrupted conversation before the nitwit and his deprived accomplices could interfere.

Stealthily, he approached. He had not much experience in comforting a crying woman but he would rely on his aptness in negotiating. In that, at least, he excelled.

He stepped on a twig, it cracked under his weight. He heard a gasp from behind the wittered lilac.

" 'Tis only I, Miss Elizabeth."

He thought he heard thank goodness but he could not be absolutely sure. It was promising if he perceived it correctly. With a deep breath, he forged on.

"Do not despair, dear Elizabeth. You need not marry Mr Collins. I will gladly marry you in his stead. I have no need for a large dowry nor illustrious connections. My family approves of you, my sister adores you, with the possible exception of Lady Catherine but we need not visit her often. I might even visit Rosings alone, should her rants about her futile wish of seeing me wedded to her daughter prove unmanageable. Will you accept my hand in marriage?"

It was too dark, in the shadows, to see Elizabeth's expression. All he could see was the occasional twinkle as a moonbeam found its way to her eyes. He felt her hand take hold of his and envelope it in her own. She was accepting him, he was forgiven. A broad grin developed on his countenance, his future was secured.

"Mr Darcy, are you always swiping in like a knight in shining armour, to rescue horses and damsels in distress or is it just me?"

He could hear by the lightness in her voice that she was teasing him. An equally witty reply quite escaped him at the moment though, he was too tightly woven with anxiousness towards their precarious situation.

"I thank you for your willingness to sacrifice your own happiness in order to save mine but I cannot allow it.

I will find a way to avoid Mr Collins unwanted attentions. Perhaps I can persuade him about my lacks as a parson's wife or the risks he runs of offending his patroness by bringing home such a headstrong, foolish wife. I will manage, somehow, someway but I need your help. Can you deliver my excuses to your party and tell them I have taken the carriage home with a headache? I am sure I will have a plan figured out before tomorrow. Goodbye, Mr Darcy, God bless you."

Elizabeth let go of his hand and the occasional twinkling went out. Left was only darkness and the sound of his erratically beating heart. 'What had happened? What had he said? Or more importantly, what had she said?

Sacrifice his happiness...

Oh my Lord, she thought he was offering her his hand because of the largesse in his heart not because his heart was already hers. What a jumble he had made of his proposal... Where had she gone?'

He ran out of the bushes, looking frantically around for a sign of Elizabeth's whereabouts. She was nowhere to be seen but the garden gate towards Hyde Park creaked as someone had forgotten to lock it. It was his best option...

He ran into the dark when a glimpse of blue velvet caught his eye on the path towards the Serpentine. His long legs carried him faster than ever before.

It was her, he had found her. Now, he only needed to convince her.

"Elizabeth!"

She halted and turned. Her sparkling eyes widened at the tall man, sprinting towards her. Both hands flew to her chest as he reached her and fell to his knees.

"You mistook my meaning, Elizabeth. My happiness is, and will forever be, irrevocably connected to yours. I am not a knight in shining armour, neither have I a penchant to rescue those I do not particularly care about. I love you, Elizabeth. From the depths of my heart to the recesses of my soul, I love you!

Please, marry me!"

Elizabeth searched his eyes for verity, the words she had heard was unfathomable. His hands gripped hers that had fallen to her sides. There was truth in his eyes, truth, honesty and vulnerability. His hands trembled.

She sank to her knees before him, feeling uncomfortable, towering over the man who had humiliated and revealed himself before her eyes. Begging for mercy she found herself willing to bestow.

Her two options emerged clearly in her mind.

She could marry the odious Mr Collins, a life she could easily imagine as a parsons wife. Living in genteel poverty, reliant upon the mercy of a patroness she had heard amply about but not much of it was favourable or she could leap into the unknown. Marry Mr Darcy who made her heart quiver, who had a sister, servants and friends heaping acclaim upon him willy-nilly. Kelpie's saviour...

"Yes, I will marry you. For love..."

Darcy enveloped her in a bone-crushing hug. Standing up, leaving her feet dangling in the air, he twirled her around, laughing.

"Should we confess to your guests about the nature of our bliss?"

Darcy sobered immediately and her feet touched the ground although he did not let up his fierce hold.

"No! Your family would never approve. I do not know all the particulars behind this scheme but I am sure we have not been presented with the entire picture. We need your father's consent. Do you think he would give it?"

"I hardly know, his mood is volatile. It depends on the day, I guess."

"I am not letting you go, Elizabeth, and I am definitely not taking any chances. Let me think..."

Darcy stood silently, stroking his hands up and down her back. She slackened the fierce hold she taken around his neck while he flung her around and let her fingers glide through his soft hair. He sighed deeply into her ear before he related the plan he had come up with, asking her opinion on the matter.

She heartily agreed, the plan made her giddy with happiness and in anticipation of adventure.

Darcy entered the dining room where the second course had been held, pending on his return. He avoided looking at Mr and Mrs MacBingley but addressed Mr Collins.

"Please, Mr Collins, have a seat and join our meal. You may take your betrothed's chair beside your noble patronesses brother, the Earl of Matlock."

Mr Collins acquiesced with the loquaciousness he was known for but he was swiftly interrupted by Mr Gardiner.

"Where is my niece, Mr Darcy?"

His tone was sharp but Mr Darcy smiled and put down his cutlery.

"Mr Gardiner, your niece is as we speak, on her way home if she is not there already.

She had left the garden when I came out. It was by sheer luck that I noticed a garden gate creaking in the wind and I went over to lock it. I espied your niece at a distance, walking in the direction of Cheapside and I hastened to catch her. She claimed a severe headache and wanted to return home so she would be well-rested by tomorrow.

I argued that it was a long walk for a young lady to undertake, especially through the unsafe streets of London. After much persuasion from me, she agreed to direct Mr Collins gig and driver back to Gracechurch Street. I hope you will not think it too forward of me, Mr Collins, but your excellent man promised to deliver the passenger safely to your housekeeper, Mrs Campbell. I am sorry that I made the presumption of lending out your conveyance, assuming you could ride back with the excellent Mr and Mrs Campbell. If there are any impediments to this unorthodox scheme, I offer you the use of my own carriage to convey you home, Mr Collins.

Mr Campbell, I understand if you feel you must return home but I sincerely hope this will not compel you to leave my party early. I have some business propositions I had hoped to discuss, now that Lord Matlock is conveniently present..."

Darcy let the last implication hang in the air. It was Mrs Campbell who answered him.

"My housekeeper is very reliable, Mr Darcy. I am certain my niece is in excellent hands and she will most likely want to retire. There is no need for us to cut our evening short. I thank you, Mr Darcy, for your forethought and quick action to secure the safety of our somewhat headstrong niece."

"Think nothing of it, Mrs Campbell. I am a guardian to a young girl myself. I would hope that others would aid her when I am not present."

Mr Darcy was mighty pleased with himself for implementing his plan with success.

Mr Campbell might be failing as an uncle but he was an astute businessman as MacBingley had pledged. The proposition seemed lucrative, Darcy went in with a little of his own means but not more than he could afford to lose. Making Mr Campbell aware that he might invest more in the future, depending upon the result of his first effort.

Lord Matlock secured himself a deal as well but only as a client. He was fond of amber liquid. With the wars going on, making French wares a rare commodity, he settled gladly for a steady supply of Scottish Whiskey.

Charles kept in the background, obviously displeased with his friend. He and his wife left as early as conceivable. Darcy was sorry he had to deceive his friend but he dared not trust him explicitly in this all to important matter. Elizabeth had admitted that her sister was not to be trusted with secrets. She was honest to a fault.

There was one lady who was not deceived, she waited for the others out and attacked when they had left.

"What have you done, Darcy?"

"I assure you, madam. Very little as of yet..."

Finally, his own relations left and his plan could be set in motion. The door closed behind the Matlocks and his butler was awaiting further orders.

"Mr Gilbert, have my old, unmarked coach readied to bring Mr Collins home."

His butler looked at him askance, probably wondering if his master had perhaps had a few cups too many.

"Mr Collins, left in Mr Campbell's carriage."

"I am well aware of that, Mr Gilbert, the stable hands are not. Please ready the coach with James and Euan in the driver seat. I have a couple of chests that need to be loaded up, in my chamber. Tell the footmen to retire and offer to escort Mr Collins yourself as you have some chore or other, still needed to be done so you might as well wait up."

"Yes, Mr Darcy."

"Thank you, Mr Gilbert." His master took two steps at the time as he ascended the stairs, wearing an unmistakable smile. He halted suddenly, halfway up.

"Mr Gilbert?"

"Yes, Mr Darcy?"

"If anyone asks, I am escorting Mr Collins home to his parsonage in Hunsford that abut Rosings Park."

"Yes, Sir."

Mrs Campbell located her housekeeper, first thing when they arrived home.

"Has Elizabeth arrived home?"

"Yes, madam. A few hours ago, she went straight to her chamber, not even bothering to remove her cloak. Was she unwell, Mrs Campbell? She looked forlorn, her shoulders were slumped and she was positively dragging her feet... I went by to check up on her a little later but she had already fallen asleep, mam. Should I wake her?"

"No, she suffers from the occasional headache. Let her sleep."

"Yes, mam"

"I need the second bedroom readied for Mr Collins. Miss Elizabeth's betrothed."

"But, the second bedroom is next to Miss Elizabeth."

"I am fully aware but it is the only one we have to spare. They will marry on the morrow so I guess it does not matter, much."

The housekeeper curtsied and went to perform her duties.

Mrs Campbell exhaled and slumped down in her chair, exhausted. It really was the last time she exerted herself for her new sister.

They had served her diligently since she offered to put in a good name for Mrs Campbell's husband, her own brother no less, at the renowned Loch Tay distillery. This whole affair was distasteful, it ended here. If she would destroy her own brother's reputation and deprive him of his livelihood, so be it. She was done after she had seen Elizabeth marry that odious excuse of a man. What had Fiona been thinking, chackling a daughter to him? She would probably never know but had she had any idea of how utterly unsuited he was to her niece, she would never have agreed to the scheme. Elizabeth was stubborn and temperamental, at least, she had been the last time they visited, ten years ago. She had thought Elizabeth was just being her usual wilful self but after meeting the man in question, she had nothing but sympathy for the fate of her niece. The scheme had proceeded too far to reskin though, nothing good would come of upsetting Lady Catherine de Bourgh...

The Campbell household awakened at dawn on this momentous day.

The wedding was set at nine in the morning, leaving little time for sleeping in at the Campbell house.

Mrs Campbell heard a knock on her chamber door.

"I am awake, I will be out when I have finished my toilet."

"I beg your pardon for disturbing your toilet, Mam, but Miss Elizabeth is missing. I thought you wanted to know immediately."

Mrs Campbell rubbed her eyes and nudged her husband awake.

"Has she gone for one of her early morning rambles?" She asked through the door.

"Not exactly, Mam."

Mrs Campbell decided that this conversation might not be wise to have, shouting through a door.

"One moment, I will be right with you."

She threw a robe around her nightgown and put on a pair of slippers. She nudged her tired husband a second time before she whispered in his ear: "Get up, Edward. I think we might have some trouble on our hands."

Out in the hallway, her housekeeper stood wringing her hands.

"Follow me," Mrs Campbell told her housekeeper and they removed to Mr Campbell's study. The only room in the house where one could be assured of privacy. Behind the closed door, her housekeeper informed her that the maid she had sent to awaken Miss Elizabeth, had discovered that the girl in Miss Elizabeth's bed was not her but a maid from Darcy House.

"Send her in," Mrs Campbell ordered in a clipped tone. She had been duped, there was no question about it but she had to get as much information as possible from the interloper before she would know how to act.

A young girl of approximately five and ten was shown into the study. She was petit, her figure resembled her niece's but the similarities ended there.

"Tell me how you thought this girl was my niece?" Mrs Campbell addressed her housekeeper.

"She didn't remove her cloak, mam. When I asked if she needed anything, she waved me off. I am sorry, mam, but I didn't see her face nor hear her voice. I assumed it was Miss Elizabeth because she wore her cloak..."

Mrs Campbell sent her housekeeper out of the study with strict orders to search the house from top to bottom. The housekeeper hastened to leave the premises, well aware that she had not heard the last of this debacle.

"What is your name and what are you doing in my house?" Mrs Campbell spoke harshly to the terrified maid before her.

"Jenny 's my name, Mam. I found Miss Elizabeth crying outside the door of the 'ouse I work in. I'm a scullery maid at Mr Darcy's townhouse and Mrs Gilbert, the 'ousekeeper says that I should always do as Mr Darcy says and treat his guests as I would treat him. To do everything I am told, as quickly as possible and to never ask any questions, Mam. I just did as I was told, Mam."

"Was it Miss Elizabeth or Mr Darcy who told you to impersonate Miss Elizabeth?"

"I don't understand what impersonate means, Mam. But I saw no Mr Darcy, only the beautiful Miss, Mam. Very upset she was, crying her eyes out. I couldn't disobey, Mam. I might lose me place if I didn't do as I was told. 'Tis not me place to question me orders. I ain't doing the scullery forever, I ain't. I want to be a lady's maid to a fine lady one day."

Mrs Campbell could not quite decide if she was dealing with a terrified, babbling maid, an ambitious overachiever or the next star on Drury Lane. Either way, she could not take the chance of offending Mr Darcy. First things first, she needed to locate her wayward niece...

"Wait in the kitchen, Jenny. I will drive you to Grosvenor Square myself."

The maid curtsied and left Mrs Campbell to wait for her staff to finish the search of the house. She informed her husband of the new development while she dressed for the day.

She was tired, the pregnancy and the strain of marrying off her niece was taking its toll on her. Edward came and put his comforting arms around her.

"We will find her, Madeline. She cannot be far away. Perhaps she thought it a good joke to trade places with the maid for a day. A last prank before she is expected to behave properly as a married lady should. I am not too worried, yet. Let me accompany you to Mr Darcy and we will soon get to the bottom of this. She might even have caught a bigger fish than Mr Collins." Mr Campbell winked at his wife.

"Do you never read your sisters letters?"

"Not if I can help it," Mr Campbell quipped.

"According to Fiona, Mr Darcy's first impression of Lizzy was that he mistook her for one of the peasants at one of the pagan, outdoor parties they held. He called her a weed and wondered if her hair was on fire. He left as soon as possible before his injured friend had recovered. It does not sound like a man infatuated to me. He might have an entirely different motive for seeking her out though..."

Darcy House looked sleepy when the Campbell carriage arrived, unfashionably early on this Tuesday morning. The knocker had been removed but the maid guided them around the house to the servants' entrance.

Mrs Gilbert, the housekeeper of Darcy House, was the first person they ran into.

"Mr Campbell, Mrs Campbell, how can I be of service?"

The housekeeper concealed her astonishment well if not absolutely. She did not acknowledge the maid at all.

"We wish to speak to Mr Darcy on an urgent matter."

"Mr Darcy is not at home." The housekeeper replied.

"When will he be back? As I mentioned, the matter is rather urgent," Mr Campbell insisted.

"I cannot say but let me fetch Mr Gilbert, he is better informed than myself. Please, follow me to the parlour, it is more comfortable. Not you, Jenny. You may return to the scullery. I will talk to you later ."

Mrs Gilbert disappeared for a few minutes before she returned with the butler of Darcy house who happened to be her husband.

"Mr Campbell, I understand you need to see Mr Darcy but he left town last night, he did not say when he would be back." Mr Gilbert uttered tersely, making Mr Campbell convinced he needed to be frank with the butler if he wanted any form of information.

"Mr Gilbert, it is of utmost importance that I speak to Mr Darcy about a delicate matter. My niece is missing, in her place, we found your scullery maid Jenny while Miss Elizabeth is nowhere to be found.

She was here last night at Mr Darcy's dinner party. She was struck by a sudden headache and Mr Darcy arranged for her to be taken home in Mr Collins gig but when we woke up this morning. Jenny was in Miss Elizabeth's room, claiming that a distraught Miss Elizabeth had asked her to take her place. Surely, you understand our concern and the urgency, not to forget the importance of keeping the matter private?"

Mr Gilbert looked thoughtful.

"It explains why he left for Rosings to bring Mr Collins home since he had sent his gig away but I have no knowledge of your niece, Mr Campbell."

"He cannot have left with Mr Collins, he shared our carriage home last night. Did you see him enter the carriage?"

"I did not."

Neither had anyone else it would seem, after careful questioning of the footmen.

Mr Campbell reckoned he had gotten all the information he needed and thanked Mr Gilbert for his time.

Mr and Mrs Campbell hastened to their carriage. Safely inside they discussed their new discoveries.

"We should leave for Rosings immediately and bring Mr Collins with us. They can be married just as easily from Hunsford as London..." Mrs Campbell smiled, she saw an end to this farce and she could not bring it to its conclusion fast enough.

"That is what he wants us to believe, Madeline. I saw the look in his eyes. He has probably hauled her off to some distant cottage, we will never see her again..." Mr Campbell's mood turned morose.

"I thought so too but the Darcy men are renowned for their outstanding moral. I have enquired amongst several of my acquaintances. Mr Darcy is thought of as honourable and virtuous. Mr Darcy would never make her his mistress. No, he will definitely marry her." Mrs Campbell gasped and clutched her husband's arm. "Gretna Green, they are headed for Gretna Green! Fiona will be furious and blacklist us to Laird MacBingley..."

Mr Campbell stroked the hand that was clutching his arm.

"There, there, darling. Even Fiona cannot oppose to such a catch as Mr Darcy. He is wealthy, good looking and an exemplary member of society. She cannot possibly object..."

Mrs Campbell raised an eyebrow to her husband.

"Fiona? Your easily excitable sister with her fluttering nerves and fits of irrationality? Who despises Elizabeth for being her father's favourite and causing the rift between Lady MacBingley and herself? She will throw a fit just because Elizabeth married better than Jane!"

"I wonder how she can have such a hold on Mr MacBingley though. He does seem like a sensible man."

"Do you not know? Have you ever had a good look at Mary? She does not resemble her sisters, does she?"

Mrs Campbell let the implication rest in the air as they arrived at their home on Gracechurch Street.

"Surely not..." Mr Campbell muttered but he had to admit that there was a certain resemblance.

"Fiona was desperate for a boy and Mr MacBingley had fathered three. Why he agreed to the scheme, I will never know but I am convinced that Mary is Laird MacBingley's child."