Bonus chapter!

Chapter Twenty-Six

Darcy was just drawing breath to reply when Bingley shouted, "Darcy, look—over there!"

Before he could speak, his companion had urged his mount forward at a fast clip. He caught up as Bingley was jumping off his horse and running off the side of the road to pick up what turned out to be a lady's top hat.

"This is Elizabeth's—she was wearing it this morning when she left for her walk," he said.

Darcy joined him on the ground and glanced at the hat. "Are you certain? I believe that is a riding hat—would she not have worn a bonnet to take a walk?"

Bingley colored a little, then replied, "She was dressed in a riding habit, but elected to go for a walk instead without changing."

"Why would she do that?" Darcy queried.

"Because she knew you were likely to be in the stables at that hour."

A frown furrowed Darcy's brow. "But… Why would Elizabeth wish to avoid my company? Have I offended her in some way?"

Bingley shook his head. "No, Darcy, it's not so much that she wished to avoid you specifically—she wanted to avoid everyone. Lizzy said she wished to be alone with her thoughts after Caroline's appearance unsettled the whole house."

Darcy's frown deepened to a scowl. "Blast that wretched woman!" he muttered. "Do you think she would harm Elizabeth?"

Again, Bingley shook his head, followed by a sigh. "At this point, I honestly don't know. I never imagined Caroline's jealousy escalating to violence."

He turned his head and glanced into the woods. "But we've discovered her hat—someone must have taken her from the outlook, given the tracks we discovered. Perhaps she got away from them and ran in here?"

Darcy nodded. "Let us venture in and look for her."

Taking the reins of his horse in hand, he led the stallion over to a bush and wrapped the lead around a thick branch. Bingley followed his example and then the two started into the woods, each calling out for Elizabeth. Darcy could hear the concern and desperation in his friend's voice each time he said her name; it was no doubt echoed in his own, for he was wracked with worry. Where was she? Had Elizabeth truly gotten away from her alleged captors, or had they merely discarded her hat for some unknown reason?

Several agonizing minutes went by before the two men met with any further evidence that Elizabeth had come this way. Darcy had just called her name for what seemed the millionth time when, about thirty feet ahead of them, they heard a rustling sound, followed by a weak cry.

"Darcy! Darcy, I am here!"

He broke into a run with Bingley fast on his heels, skidding to a stop only moments before he would have launched himself over a drop-off; he reached his arm out just in time to prevent Bingley doing the same. Below them, Elizabeth was crawling on her hands and knees from around an oak tree at the bottom of the embankment.

"Darcy! Charles! Oh, thank God you are here!" cried Elizabeth. "Please, help me!"

"I am coming, my darling!" said Darcy without thinking, already beginning the slow descent toward her.

"Be careful, Darcy!" Bingley called out above him when he'd made it halfway and slipped, landing on his bottom.

"Be careful!" said Elizabeth at the same moment.

Taking only a little more care down the rest of the way, Darcy's relief was immeasurable when he reached Elizabeth and was able to gather her into his arms. She was covered in leaves, twigs, and dirt, but she was alive.

"My darling," he said breathily. "Thank God you are well!"

"'My darling'?" she queried.

Darcy stood back and captured her questioning gaze with his own. "Yes, for that is what you are to me," he replied. "I have been waiting these last several days for the right moment to speak with you—to tell you how very dear to me you have become."

He chuckled softly. "Though now hardly seems the time."

To his surprise, she grinned, though it was followed by a wince. "Yes, you could not have chosen a worse possible moment," she said, before smiling a smile that was small, while her eyes filled with unspoken emotion.

"Or a more perfect one," she added softly. "I have been so frightened, these last hours, even while I prayed that God would lead you and Charles to me. Somehow, I knew you would come."

"Lizzy, are you well?!" Charles called down then. "Darcy, is she very badly hurt?"

Darcy stood back further to assess Elizabeth's condition. There was a cut already surrounded by a bruise on her left cheek and another bruise forming at her right temple; she likely had many more.

"Can you walk at all?" he asked gently.

Elizabeth shook her head. "The only thing keeping me upright at this moment is you, sir. I twisted my ankle when I fell over the ledge up there."

Looking up to her brother, Darcy said, "Elizabeth has sprained her ankle, Bingley. I will have to carry her up."

He looked then to Elizabeth. "If you will permit me?"

She smiled that teasing smile he had come to adore as she replied, "Only because the ends will justify the means."

Darcy laughed again and shook his head, then took the hand of hers that held tightly to his arm and drew it around his shoulders. "You will have to ride on my back, I'm afraid. It is the safest way to get us both back up, as we haven't any rope with us."

Elizabeth nodded in silent compliance as he was squatting down for her to climb onto his back. When she had settled herself, clasping her hands together just below his throat, he stood slowly and moved toward the embankment.

"This is highly improper," she muttered. "And so undignified."

"Perhaps," Darcy replied as he slowly began to ascend, grabbing onto rocks and roots for leverage. "Did you never ride on your father's back as a girl?"

"Yes, I did, and I enjoyed it very much," said Elizabeth. "But you are not my father."

"No, indeed. Though I must say that I should like to become someone almost as precious to you, if your heart is amenable."

He felt more than heard her sigh. "It is," Elizabeth said softly.

Darcy felt his own heart swell with love and relief. She did return his regard! Now, they had to get her back to Netherfield, where she could be tended to and he could discuss with her his ideas for their future.

It naturally took longer to get up the embankment than it had taken him to get down it, but when they reached the top, Bingley grabbed ahold of his arm and helped by pulling until he could get to his feet. Elizabeth slid from his back and immediately turned and stumbled into her brother's arms, and he held her tightly as he whispered the words, "Thank God," over and over again.

After a minute or two, he stood back and said, "Are you certain you cannot walk?"

Elizabeth nodded. "My ankle is killing me, Charles. I have examined it and both the joint and foot are swollen—all my weight is on the other."

"I will carry her back to the horses," Darcy said.

Bingley nodded and without allowing Elizabeth a chance to protest, Darcy slipped one arm around her shoulders and the other under her knees and lifted, cradling her against his chest. His charge squealed softly as she rose into the air, her arms snaking around his neck and shoulders before the three started back through the words to where the horses had been left.

When they reached them, Bingley mounted first, and though he would rather have kept Elizabeth with him, Darcy reluctantly lifted her into her brother's arms, then quickly untied both horses' leads from the bush before mounting his own. The two men pressed their mounts into a light canter, both wanting to get Elizabeth home quickly but each also wanting to take care for the sake of her injuries.

Neither asked her questions about what had happened. Questions could wait until she had been seen by the apothecary, and a physician sent for if needed.

By the time they passed through the gate at Netherfield, the other gentlemen had returned; all three of them—along with Louisa and Georgiana—came down the front steps and ran to greet them.

"Oh, Lizzy!" cried Mrs. Hurst. "Good heavens, what happened to you?"

"Not now, Louisa," said Bingley as Darcy was dropping from his horse; he went immediately around to Bingley's side to reach for Elizabeth. "Hiddleston, would you be so kind as to send a man to Meryton for Mr. Jones?"

"Of course, Bingley," said his friend before he turned and ran back into the house.

"We might also send someone to Lucas Lodge and Longbourn, Charles," said Hurst as Darcy was easing Elizabeth to the ground. "Our friends were naturally worried when they heard Elizabeth had gone missing."

Darcy had already lifted Elizabeth into his arms again and started for the steps. "A good idea, Reginald," Bingley was saying behind him. "Will you see to it?"

Mrs. Hurst drew a breath. "I will go ahead and alert Mrs. Nicholls and Lizzy's maid," she said. "Come, Miss Darcy—let us go and help them ready my sister's chamber for her."

"Oh yes, of course!" Georgiana cried, casting a worried glance at Elizabeth as she passed.

Darcy ignored the questioning gaze of his aunt as they passed through the entry hall toward the main stair; the countess followed along wordlessly as he and Bingley made their way to Elizabeth's bedchamber, where he reluctantly eased her onto the bed.

"Thank you, Mr. Darcy," she said, a light blush coloring her cheeks.

He smiled at her. "You are more than welcome, Miss Elizabeth."

"You've done your deed in rescuing Miss Elizabeth, Darcy—now you and Mr. Bingley can go," said Lady Disley as she brushed past him and into the room. "Allow me and the other ladies to attend her in privacy."

He didn't want to go—already he felt bereft of her warmth. Her body against his had felt so natural.

"Come, Darcy," said Bingley, who then reached for his arm. "Elizabeth is in the best hands now, and we can talk to her when she is made decent again."

"Of course, Bingley," Darcy said at last, and with a parting smile at the woman he loved, he allowed himself to be led away.

They went only as far as the sitting room shared by their sisters. After a moment of watching as the housekeeper and a number of maids passed in and out of Elizabeth's room, Darcy looked at Bingley and said, "I think a man must also be sent for the magistrate. Clearly something nefarious has happened to your sister, and he should hear of it when we do so she need not repeat herself."

Bingley nodded vigorously. "Yes, I agree. Poor Lizzy should not be made to relive the horrible experience any more than necessary."

It was an agonizing hour that passed before Bingley and the Meryton magistrate, a Mr. Palmer, were admitted to Elizabeth's room. Darcy followed without invitation, for he would not stay behind. In that time, they learned that the militia and the families of their friends had been notified of her safe return, the latter eagerly awaiting news of her condition.

Bingley immediately sat himself on the side of his sister's bed, taking her hand in his and asking how she was. Mr. Jones replied for her, saying that she was "banged up quite a bit" and that it would be up to two days before they would know if her right ankle or foot had suffered a break due to the amount of swelling.

"It must be kept elevated, and a cool compress applied every few hours," the apothecary said. "When the swelling has abated, I will be able to determine whether a surgeon need be sent for. If Netherfield had an icehouse or there were snow on the ground, it could be reduced even faster."

"Thank you so very much, Mr. Jones, for seeing to my sister's care," Bingley said.

"No thanks are necessary, Mr. Bingley," replied Mr. Jones as he was closing his medical bag. "You just make sure this young lady keeps to her bed for the next several days. She needs rest to heal, though I advise against allowing her to sleep for several hours. Her head is concussed, and in that time, you should be able to tell if there is more significant damage than my examination revealed."

"How will we know that?" Mrs. Hurst asked.

"My behavior will change," Elizabeth replied. "My speech may slur, my movements—such as I am allowed to do—will become uncoordinated."

Mr. Jones nodded. "I see you've read some medical texts on the subject, Miss Bingley."

"More than that, sir," she returned. "I served His Majesty's army in Spain alongside my late aunt, to whom I was companion, for four years. We attended soldiers in the medical tent while we were with my uncle's regiment."

"Then you must know well the consequences of not following medical advice, young lady," said Jones with a knowing smile and a wag of his finger. To Bingley, he said, "Do not hesitate to send for me again, Mr. Bingley, if Miss Elizabeth's condition worsens."

Bingley stood and held out his hand. "Of course, sir. Thank you again."

Mr. Jones shook his hand and departed, and Bingley returned to his previous place on the side of the bed. All through this exchange, Darcy had been examining Elizabeth with his own eyes. The bruises on her cheek and temple had darkened, and no doubt she had more marks elsewhere. Her skin was pale, she wore a high-necked dressing gown over a nightdress, and her chestnut tresses had been confined in a braid. Her injured ankle, though covered by the counterpane that draped over her from the chest down, was clearly resting atop at least two cushions.

He longed to hold her again, to sooth her pain and comfort her spirit, but he could not. Not before the ladies or her brother, and not when they were not formally betrothed—the embrace in the woods and his carrying her were already liberties he should not have taken. But Darcy could not be sorry for breaching propriety that little bit, for he had at last revealed his feelings to Elizabeth and had learned that she admired him in return.

"Lizzy, this is Mr. Palmer, the local magistrate," Bingley was saying. "Do you feel up to telling us what happened to you?"

Elizabeth's gaze flickered between her brother on one side of her and her sister on the other. Pain not related to her wounds was etched into her expression as she relayed the circumstances of the aborted kidnapping attempt by their own relation.

Louisa Hurst nearly collapsed onto the bed on the other side of Elizabeth, her hand raised to her lips in astonishment even as tears fell from her eyes. "I… I can scarce believe it," she said softly. "Irrational jealousy is one thing, but kidnapping? I would never have thought Caroline would go so far!"

"Nor I, Louisa," Bingley said.

"The men who aided your sister, Miss Bingley—" Mr. Palmer began.

"Please," interrupted Elizabeth. "Please call me Miss Elizabeth, sir. 'Miss Bingley' makes me think of Caroline."

The magistrate nodded. "The two men, Miss Elizabeth—did you recognize either of them?"

She shook her head. "No, I have never seen them before. And only of the one did I really get a good look at his face."

"And you said he was called Mel by the other?" Palmer continued, scratching notes into a notepad with a pencil, which he had been doing since the beginning of her tale.

"Yes, I am sure the one who accosted me on the path at Oakham Mount was the one called Mel," Elizabeth replied. "Have you any idea how you will find the three of them?"

"It's difficult to say, I'm afraid," Mr. Palmer replied. "As you say they were travelling in a carriage, the criminals could be well on their way to London by now."

Mrs. Hurst cried out, "Caroline a criminal! We are ruined, Charles!" before dropping her head into her hands and weeping.

"No, Louisa, we are not," said Bingley firmly. "People may talk, yes, but we had already cast Caroline out because of her inexcusable behavior."

"Your brother is correct, madam," spoke up Lady Disley, who had remained with Mrs. Hurst and Georgiana after the servants had departed. "The gossip cannot be avoided, but Miss Bingley's conduct will be seen for what it is—the desperate actions of a madwoman. So long as the rest of you continue to comport yourselves respectably, the talk will eventually die away, and your mad relative will hardly be spoken of, if at all."

"What consequences will Caroline face, if she is caught?" asked Elizabeth.

Mr. Palmer scratched his head. "Well, Miss Elizabeth, she could be hanged, if her sentence isn't mitigated. If it is, she could be confined to a gaol, transported, or committed to Bedlam. Or Mr. Bingley could arrange to have her situated in a home far away from people where she would be tended by nurses familiar with madness. It will be up to the court to decide."

Darcy watched Elizabeth, his chest aching with wanting to at least touch her, as she closed her eyes and sighed. "I suppose I should not care as to her fate," she said, "given what she has done to me. But even after this morning, I do not know that I would wish her to face death for her foolishness. She needs to be examined and cared for by a doctor who specializes in mental cases like hers, not hanged."

Darcy scoffed, drawing all eyes to him. "Forgive me," said he, "but I do not know that I could be so magnanimous as you are."

Elizabeth frowned. "My sister is ill, Mr. Darcy. If it were Georgiana in her place, would you not do whatever you could to see that she got the help she needed?"

Of course he would—he already had, in a sense, when he had done all in his power to ensure that the almost-elopement from Ramsgate was known only to those he deemed it necessary to know.

Elizabeth among them.

At last, he inclined his head to her. "I would, Miss Elizabeth."

Mr. Palmer was going over his notes, then said, "Well, I think I have all I need from you for now, Miss. If you think of any other details, you can write them down and have a messenger bring them to my office. Mr. Bingley, I'll speak to Colonel Forster of the militia and see about having a search done, but given the amount of time that has passed, I have small hope of the culprits remaining in the area."

Bingley nodded and stood again. "I understand, sir. And thank you," he said. "Come, I will see you out."

The two men departed, and when they had gone, Lady Disley moved toward the door. "Come, Georgiana. How about you and I play some music to sooth the nerves of the household now that all the excitement is passed?"

"A soothing sonata sounds delightful, my lady," said Elizabeth with a small smile.

Georgiana smiled as well. "I know just what to play for you, Elizabeth," she said, before following the countess out of the room.

"I shall go into the sitting room and busy myself with your work basket, Elizabeth," said Mrs. Hurst then with a knowing glint in her eye. "I will, of course, leave the door open."

Elizabeth glanced up at Darcy, then back to her sister. "Of course, Louisa."

When she, too, had quit the room, Darcy moved to take the place on the edge of the bed that Bingley had occupied, also taking up Elizabeth's hand as his friend had done.

Smiling, he said, "Alone at last."