Chapter Six

Darcy

"W e are here, sir," Lightower said as he opened the door to Darcy's carriage. The man had served as his coachman as well as his valet. A stiff breeze hit him in the face, reminding him to pull up his cloak. Whenever Darcy had to venture into town, he wore a grey cloak that, when pulled down into his face, concealed some of his ruined features. Of course, it also drew attention because it was unusual for someone to wear a cloak pulled so deeply into his face.

As soon as he stepped out of the carriage, he felt the uncomfortable stares and looks from those around him. People were gawping and whispering, something he was used to but did not like. However, the damage to Pemberley's burnt-out western wing was beginning to endanger the rest of the house. Floorboards were creaking and falling, and he knew that part of the house had to be gutted and demolished. He had not had the heart to do so until now.

In the early days after he had recovered enough to venture out and assess the damage, he had made his way to the burnt-out shell that was his sister's chamber. Almost nothing of Georgiana's remained. It was a miracle that he had escaped. It was only thanks to the floorboards giving away that saved him. That and the fact that Georgiana's body had broken his fall, for otherwise he would have been dead. He shook his head, banishing his thoughts.

"Sir?" the young man said, and Darcy noted, lighter said. "Lightower, I beg your pardon. I was lost in thought."

He walked a few steps towards the narrow street leading to the home of the carpenter when a woman called his name. He didn't recognise the voice, but he hesitated. It wasn't often that anybody called his name these days, and certainly not a young woman.

He took a deep breath, bracing himself, as he expected it to be one of his estate's tenants, probably with a request of some sort. However, when he turned, he let out an audible gasp. Running his way was not one of his tenants, but the dark-haired, angry woman from the previous evening, the one who had been with Bingley. She charged at him, one hand on her bonnet to keep it from flying off, a wicker basket swung on her right elbow as she closed the distance between them. Darcy closed his eyes and rubbed the spot between his eyebrows, feeling a headache coming up. He had spent much of the previous evening feeling rather terrible for sending Bingley and his family out into the weather, but at the same time, he was glad that they were gone, for the look on Bingley's face had been enough to bring on an attack of insufferable melancholy.

"Mr Darcy! You will wait for me!" the young woman called, and Darcy's eyes popped open to see that she had closed the distance between them by a fair bit. How had she spotted him? Had someone pointed him out? Likely that was what had happened. Whenever he came to Lambton, news of his arrival quickly spread.

"Elizabeth, stop!" Another woman called from behind her, and then the owner of the voice appeared. Darcy recognised her from the previous night.

"Wonderful. Just wonderful," Darcy mumbled to himself. As if receiving a censure from the two women the previous day hadn't been bad enough, now here they were again, no doubt to continue the verbal assault upon his person.

Somewhere deep inside, he knew that he should apologise because his behaviour truly had not been gentlemanly, but the way they approached him already set his bristles up again.

"I have not the time to speak with you," he turned, but she slipped in front of him, blocking his path.

"I will not be dismissed the way you dismissed Mr Bingley last night, Mr Darcy. The way you acted was thoroughly uncouth. Because of you, my aunt lies injured at the posting inn, and we are unable to continue our travels because her ankle is badly hurt. She is in severe pain, far from home, reliant upon the kindness of her husband and me. Because of you. Surely you would not have troubled you to allow us to stay in your drawing room for a few hours to avoid such injury."

She was fuming, and Darcy was briefly tongue-tied. An injury? He hadn't meant for that to happen. But surely, it wasn't his fault…

"Your aunt? What in the world happened?"

"What happened?" She sent him a glare. "You sent us all out in the storm and forced us to attempt to make it to Lambton in the dark of night on treacherous roads. She slipped, and it would not have happened if you had not been so monstrously heartless."

He had been called monstrous many a time, but never in relation to his character or heart. The words truly pierced his walls and the passion with which they were delivered, reminded him of the decent man he had one spin, and that man could not help but feel terrible.

"Miss…" He said, realising he still did not know her name.

"Bennet. Elizabeth Bennet," she fired back. She was Jane Bingley's sister. The same sister who, just now huffed and puffed as she came to stop beside them.

"Elizabeth, we ought to go. There is no use in this…" Jane said as she glared at him, reminding him of the remarkable determination in her voice he'd heard the night before.

"No, he needs to hear what he did," Elizabeth replied.

"Miss Bennet, Mrs Bingley, I am truly aghast that your aunt was hurt, and if you would allow me, I will send my physician to look in on her and then ensure she gets the best possible treatment."

This seemed to appease Mrs Bingley as the hardness in her face faded slightly. Her sister, however, did not seem pleased.

"That will not remedy anything. She should not be in this position. You did this to her. You are callous and ill-mannered."

Suddenly, she turned away and went in the direction she'd come from/ She glanced over her shoulder and called out to her sister to follow. "Come."

Darcy knew that he should let this go but somehow, her refusal to accept his apology, something that was difficult for him to master in the best of times, irked him.

"Miss Bennet, I am not finished speaking to you."

"I have nothing more to say to you. I wanted you to know what you have done and hope that perhaps you have some humility left in you to feel terrible about what you did. That is all," she said, then looked over her shoulder and hurried away.

"Miss Bennet!" He exclaimed and rushed after her, grabbing her by the arm.

What was he doing? It was unbecoming of a gentleman to touch a woman he was not related to in such a manner in public. Still, she had evoked such an angry response in him, he could not stop himself.

She turned, for a brief second, a fiery rage met his, but then the anger was replaced by a sudden surprise. He wasn't quite certain what was happening, but her entire body slipped out of sight, and she let out a shriek as she tumbled towards the ground.

It took a moment for him to spot the source of the commotion but then he saw it. She had slipped on the cobblestones, still wet from the rain. Without thinking he wrapped his arm around her waist and attempted to hold her up, when a loud ripping sound filled the air all around them.

"Lizzy!" Mrs Bingley shouted, and Darcy noted with a start that he had accidentally grabbed onto the button loops on the back of her dress and torn the fabric.

"Mr Darcy, please unhand me," Miss Bennet called, "We will cause a major—" It was too late. He pulled back his hand, attempting to extract his fingers, when the loop got caught on his signet ring, ripping the material further. A sliver of her pale skin was exposed, and she gasped. He took off his cloak and sought to cover her when she pushed him away.

"You have done quite enough, Mr Darcy!" Miss Bennet exclaimed, as her sister appeared at her side and wrapped her arms around her, leading her away.

Darcy's face burned under the glare of those who had witnessed the spectacle. This was a disaster in the making. And yet somehow, he could do nothing but stand there, shake his head, and bemoan the fact that his actions had brought this to be.

***

"Elizabeth!" Aunt Gardiner said from her bed when she saw the tear in the side of Elizabeth's gown. "How could this happen?" she asked.

"I told you I was angry at him, and I wanted to get away and I slipped. All this rain yesterday, there was mud and puddles everywhere and I… He tried to hold me up at the last moment and accidentally grabbed the hold of my buttons. He tried to pull his hand away, and I think his ring got stuck and the next thing I know…"

"Where were your stays?" Aunt Gardiner asked.

"My stays? The ones I wore yesterday are still soaked and the others are in the trunk in the carriage, which still has not been retrieved. I had nothing to wear but this gown given to me by the innkeeper."

Why was she under scrutiny? She had done nothing wrong.

"This is a scandal in the making, Elizabeth," her aunt said, and Elizabeth gulped. She had considered this. After all, she had been in a very physical entanglement with a gentleman and had exposed part of her skin for all of town to see. But at the same time, it had not been her fault. He had done this. He had done all of this.

"Did anyone see any of this?" his aunt asked.

Elizabeth shrugged. "Maybe."

"Half a dozen people saw the incident happen," Jane reported, though Elizabeth wanted her sister to be quiet, and not make this any worse. "And then several more on the way back. It was seen and will spread."

"Goodness gracious, this is terrible. Your reputation, Elizabeth." Her aunt gasped.

"It was an accident," Elizabeth repeated, and sat down in the seat by the fireplace, drumming her finger on the armchair.

"What are we going to do?" her aunt asked, pale faced.

"Do? We do nothing. Nothing has happened. We will simply wait until you are better and return home. That is all we can do," Elizabeth argued.

"Surely everybody in this town knows what Mr Darcy is like, and understands this is not Elizabeth's fault," Jane backed her up.

"Exactly. Even if there is a local scandal, we are not from here. We will be back home in Longbourn soon enough, and we will not have to worry about any of this anymore."

Her aunt pressed her lips together but said nothing further. Although, from the look in her eyes, Elizabeth knew that very likely this was not the end of this.

They all knew how much people liked to talk, and how quickly rumours spread. Indeed, it would be better for them to leave as quickly as possible. If it hadn't been for the injury, Elizabeth would have suggested that she leave with Charles and Jane in the morning, but as it stood, she could not leave her aunt behind to be cared for by only her uncle.

No, she was stuck here for the time being, and all she could do was hope that this minor incident involving Mr Darcy would not spread around town, and draw her in. A scandal would not only stain her reputation but that of her entire family—and Jane's as well.