Chapter Nineteen

Darcy

D arcy could not deny a certain sense of trepidation as they approached the house. Though he had long been at ease with his uncle and aunt, today he arrived with an unanticipated burden. He was not only seeking their aid, but he was doing so in the company of Elizabeth Bennet, a woman of decidedly lower birth. His aunt and uncle were kind people, but they were not accustomed to dining with anyone untitled, the exception being Bingley though even he had to withstand his aunt’s scrutiny. However, he had not wanted to alarm Elizabeth who was already rather worried by the circumstances of their visit.

As they approached the grand entrance, Darcy turned slightly in his seat, his voice light with an uncharacteristic playfulness. “Do you see that window there, just above the rose garden?” he asked, nodding towards a tall window with elegant framing.

Elizabeth followed his gaze, her brow furrowed in curiosity. “Yes,” she replied, glancing from the window back to him.

“It may surprise you, but once, when I was much younger, I managed to fling a shuttlecock racket clean through it,” Darcy admitted with a small, rueful smile. “I was aiming for the bird, of course, but… well, let us just say my uncle was not pleased with my accuracy.”

Beside Elizabeth, Maggie, who had been withdrawn and silent for much of the journey, let out a soft, unexpected giggle. The sound was so rare and fleeting that both Darcy and Elizabeth turned to her in surprise.

Elizabeth’s face brightened, her smile one of both amusement and gratitude. “I would imagine that was an impressive feat. Did your uncle forgive you easily?” she teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Darcy’s smile widened as they stepped out of the carriage. “Eventually. Though, I do believe my aunt took far longer to see the humour in it.”

Darcy made use of the brass knocker shaped like a lion’s head and a moment later, the butler arrived. The man, an older fellow named Hastings smiled upon recognising Darcy but gave a frown as he examined his companions.

“Mr Darcy, a delight to see you again in these parts. I was unaware you were to call.”

“I am calling unexpectedly. I was in the area. I trust my aunt and uncle are in residence?”

“They are,” the butler said and stepped aside to allow them entry.

They made their way towards the drawing room down the long hall were Darcy used to race his cousins Louis and Richard.

Inside the drawing room, Lord and Lady Matlock were seated at a small table near the fireplace. The room was grand but cosy, its high ceilings and richly adorned walls softened by the golden light of the fire. Hastings entered and cleared his throat.

“My lord, may I present your nephew, Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley and company.”

The sound of their arrival drew Lady Matlock’s attention, her face shifting from polite expectation to surprise as Darcy entered the room.

“Fitzwilliam!” she exclaimed, setting down her teacup with a gentle clink. “We were not expecting you.”

Lord Matlock, who had been stirring his tea raised his head and arched an eyebrow. “Indeed, this is a surprise,” he said, his voice laced with curiosity. “And you have brought guests?” His stepped forward and greeted Darcy who bowed to his uncle and then kissed his aunt’s extended hand once she joined them.

“Uncle, Aunt,” he began, his tone measured and calm. “I apologise for the unexpected visit, but circumstances have forced our hand. Allow me to introduce Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn and young Miss Maggie.” He motioned towards Elizabeth, who gave a graceful curtsy.

The young woman’s posture was poised, but Darcy could sense the tension in her shoulders as she greeted his family. She held Maggie’s hand tightly but the girl extracted it and performed a perfect curtsy that took Darcy by surprise. When she rose again, she stood straight as if at attention and Darcy blinked, catching Miss Bennet’s eye. She too had noticed. This was not the way a pauper’s child curtsied. This was the way a well-bred child would. Hadn’t she mentioned that Maggie could also play the pianoforte? His thoughts were interrupted by his aunt.

“Miss Bennet,” Lady Matlock said with a nod, her sharp eyes immediately assessing Elizabeth with more intensity than was entirely comfortable. “And… the child, she has no surname?”

“No, Aunt,” Darcy replied, his gaze flicking to Maggie, who remained silent, her small hand gripping Elizabeth’s. “She cannot speak. We know only that her name is Maggie. Though even that is an alias. She is the reason for our unexpected visit.”

Lady Matlock’s eyes softened slightly as she observed the girl, though her lips pressed into a thin line. “I see,” she murmured, exchanging a glance with her husband, who remained silent but watchful. “I take it that this is an urgent matter, I do not see a chaperone accompanying you.”

“We come seeking refuge,” Darcy continued, his voice steady despite the weight of the situation. “Maggie was discovered by Miss Bennet some weeks ago. She had no family, and it was clear she had endured significant hardship. Recently, a man of ill repute appeared, claiming her as his own. Fearing for her safety, Miss Bennet, along with Mrs Bennet, her mother, devised a plan to spirit the girl away to Northampton, where they intended to reunite with Miss Bennet’s father and hopefully Mr Bennet could intervene. However, we encountered danger along the way.”

Lord Matlock’s brow furrowed, his curiosity piqued. “Danger? What sort of danger, Fitzwilliam?”

Darcy recounted the tale in full detail, from the moment Elizabeth had found Maggie to the harrowing events in Northampton. Elizabeth stood beside him, her expression resolute as he described the men who had followed them, waiting in the shadows near the residence of Mr Bennet’s relatives, intent on reclaiming the child.

“Allow me a question,” his uncle said. “Pray, why did you not hand her over to the man claiming to be her father?”

He directed the enquiry to Elizabeth, and Darcy stepped back to let her answer.

“My lord, Maggie was terrified of this man, and she bore bruises—marks of mistreatment that made it clear she had been abused. To hand her over would have been to place her back into a dangerous and cruel situation. Besides, she assured us the man in question was not her father. Also he claimed that she had gone missing a month prior, yet Maggie had been with my family for six weeks.”

Lady Matlock’s cool demeanour faltered for a brief moment, her gaze lingering on Maggie with what could only be described as compassion.

“The man was not your father?” she asked and Maggie shook her head before biting her lips.

Lady Matlock exchanged a glance with her husband, whose sceptical expression had softened at Elizabeth’s words.

“The men who were at my aunt’s home in Northampton were the same who were outside Longbourn, they must have followed us to the inn and one of them attempted to take Maggie by force,” Elizabeth added.

“By force? By Jove,” Lord Matlock exclaimed.

“Indeed, we were able to save her in time, but I realised then that we needed to recuperate and devise a plan, which is why we are here, uncle,” Darcy said.

“You make a compelling argument,” Lord Matlock said slowly, turning back to Darcy. “And what has been done since? Have the constabulary been informed?”

Darcy resumed his account, explaining how they had managed to escape and that he had sent his sister, Georgiana, along with Mrs Annesley, to London for safety. He detailed the ruse carriage sent to Pemberley to divert attention, hoping to give them time to find a safe place for Maggie. He also stated his reasons for not contacting the constable, that the police could sometimes be swayed by money, and he feared that they may be forced to hand over the girl. He ended his account with, “Obviously, I want Maggie to be returned to her parents, but I have to be sure that we are not sending her to a fate worse than death.”

Lord Matlock nodded, his expression one of quiet approval. “You have acted with care and foresight, Fitzwilliam. But this situation is fraught with danger, not only for the girl but for all those involved. We must tread carefully.”

“That is why we have come to you,” Darcy said, his voice firm but laced with the undercurrent of urgency he felt. “I believe Matlock House may be the safest place for Maggie, for now. The men who seek her are dangerous, and until we can determine their intentions—and who they truly are—I want her to be as far from them as possible.”

The room fell silent for a moment, the gravity of the situation settling over them all. Lord Matlock, his stern countenance thoughtful, glanced towards his wife, who gave a slight nod of agreement.

“Very well,” Lord Matlock said finally. “The girl may stay here. But we must be discreet. If those men are as relentless as you say, it will not be long before they come looking for her again.”

Darcy exhaled softly, the weight on his shoulders lifting ever so slightly. He looked towards Elizabeth, who had been silent for most of the exchange, her brow furrowed with concern. Their eyes met, and in that moment, Darcy knew that no matter the dangers ahead, he would face them with her by his side.

“Thank you, Uncle,” Darcy said, his voice filled with gratitude. “I will not allow any harm to come to Maggie—or to those who protect her.”

Lady Matlock stood, her eyes lingering on Maggie as she spoke. “Then let us see that the child is made comfortable. I shall have the housekeeper prepare a room for her. As for you, Miss Bennet…” Her voice softened ever so slightly. “I trust you will remain as well?”

Elizabeth hesitated, her gaze flicking to Darcy for reassurance. “If it is not too much of an imposition, my lady.”

“Not at all,” Lady Matlock replied with a graceful nod. “You are most welcome here. Although I do wonder – the two of you travelled alone with Maggie?”

“For this last leg, yes,” Darcy said quickly. “Before that, we had Georgiana with us.”

“Still not entirely proper, Fitzwilliam. I assume you stayed at posting houses? There will be talk,” Lady Matlock said.

“There is no need to fret, I registered us as husband and wife, so there would be no appearance of indiscretion,” he said, though he saw the way his aunt’s lips twitched and he realised he’d said the wrong thing. Also, it was too late. What was said was said. All that mattered now was that his uncle had agreed to let them stay, so at least for the time being, they were safe from harm.