Chapter 11

Eleven

For the better part of an hour, Darcy had been sequestered with the butler and housekeeper as they tried in vain to get to the bottom of the recent mischief. According to Mr Harris and Mrs White, the whereabouts of all maids and footmen had been accounted for each time damage had occurred, including the previous night during which time the manor's doors and windows had been tightly locked.

The only members of the household not already questioned about the thievery or vandalism were Dubois and Mrs Jenkinson, and both were above reproach. Darcy acknowledged such interviews had to be undertaken but was reluctant to interrogate two ladies of genteel birth.

Before speaking to his cousin's abigail and elderly companion, he had hoped to call on Elizabeth and partake of her delightful society. Lost in pleasurable thoughts as he descended the stairs, he hummed a tune, then nearly jumped out of his skin when from below his aunt's voice boomed like thunder.

"Darcy! Have you seen your intended today?"

"Thus far, I have not had that pleasure." But I am on my way to the parsonage, where I shall properly woo the woman intended for me.

Impatient at being waylaid, he checked his pocket watch and spoke in haste. "I assume you erroneously refer to Anne as my intended."

"Of course I do!" One of Lady Catherine's bejewelled hands splayed across her neck. "What do you mean erroneously ? Stars and garters! Who else could possibly be your intended?"

"I must remind you, my lady, that your daughter and I are not engaged, and in so speaking, you run the risk of damaging her reputation." Darcy had spoken with unwavering firmness, but as ever, his reminder was ignored.

Studying his person with evident suspicion, Lady Catherine eventually gave him a rare smile, and a speculative gleam shone in her eyes. "You look particularly dapper this morning. Having applied yourself so well to your appearance, I trust you will be requesting a private audience with Anne as soon as she is returned." Though muttered, her next remark was audible. "That girl needs a husband."

In point of fact, Darcy had gone back to his chambers following the meeting with the two senior servants. His hair had required a good combing after being tousled and tangled in frustration over the devilry being perpetrated. Jonesby, his valet, had helped him don a flattering bottle-green coat and handed him a comfit of anise, caraway, and fennel seeds to freshen his breath after too much coffee. That second toilette of the morning was not, however, for Anne's benefit.

Knowing her ladyship's temper never could bear opposition well, Darcy was disinclined to make complicated matters more awkward. Choosing to save himself from useless remonstrance, he simply avoided the subject. "I was considering speaking with Mrs Jenkinson and Dubois regarding the vandalism. Have you asked them, or the stable workers, about Anne's current whereabouts, or shall I?"

"It goes without saying that I have done so. I am exceedingly attentive to such things, you know. Dubois said she helped Anne into her riding habit, and John Coachman reported that my daughter went out in her phaeton over an hour ago. No one has seen her since. This is a most vexing concern. Until recently, it has not been like Anne to disappear without letting us know her plans." Turning on her heel, Lady Catherine walked towards the library. "Favour me with your company. I must speak to you in private."

With a longing look towards the front door, Darcy followed.

As soon as the library door closed behind them, his aunt took the most comfortable chair for herself and indicated where he should sit. Rearranging her shawl, she began in anger. "Prevailing reports of a most alarming nature reached me hours ago when my coachman told me of Anne's frequent and protracted visits to Gilchrist's cottage. I could not like his implication of unseemly goings-on."

"Did he say as much?"

"Of course not, and he should mind his tongue if he values his position. A tryst! Can you imagine the scandal? The disparity of an earl's niece and a gardener!" Fanning her flushed face, she gave a dismissive, unladylike snort. "This is all because of that botany hobby of hers. Now, you see how greatly your dear cousin has been traduced. Though I know it can be naught but a scandalous invention, such ignoble slander cannot and will not be tolerated. I insist upon having these disgraceful reports universally contradicted. You hired Gilchrist, and you must see to the matter at once."

Although not entirely free of apprehension in that same regard, Darcy remained silent about his suspicions. A sense of duty to his relations ever ready, he reluctantly postponed calling at the parsonage and promised his aunt he would speak to the gardener.

The gleam was back in her ladyship's eyes. "Very good. I shall anticipate a favourable report from you later and a joyful announcement from you and Anne this evening."

On his way to Gilchrist's cottage to confront him about his possible involvement with Anne, Darcy fervently prayed he would not discover the two of them in any sort of compromising position.

Upon finding the cottage unoccupied, he glanced about. What is this doing here? With a huff of disgust, he picked up Anne's Flora and tucked it under an arm.

After wandering about the grounds, he espied Gilchrist in one of the greenhouses.

The air was hot as he stepped inside, yet there was a chill in Darcy's reception as he asked whether the master gardener knew Anne's whereabouts. Gilchrist said he had not seen her that morning.

"Then, how do you account for this?" From behind his back, Darcy produced his cousin's Flora and slammed it on a nearby potting table. "I found it in your cottage." Jaw jutting, he ground out, "On your rumpled cot."

Seemingly unconcerned, the gardener shrugged. "She must have stopped by the bothy while I was out. The anemones I saved for her are gone."

Nearly matched in height, the two men stood toe to toe. Damping down anger, Darcy spoke in an even tone. "Do you have any notion where she might be now?"

Without answering for himself, Gilchrist beckoned one of the nearby underlings and asked if he had seen Miss de Bourgh that day.

"Aye," a young lad replied. "I saw her with a pretty young lady driving into the woods about an hour ago."

Darcy ordered everyone, save the master gardener, from the hothouse. "Look me in the eye, Gilchrist, and tell me you have not laid a hand upon my cousin."

There was a tightness in the Scot's eyes as he turned and swore he had not. His unflinching gaze bore into Darcy's as he admitted to a platonic friendship with Miss de Bourgh, nothing more.

Added to that, Gilchrist's insistence that he was far too busy with spring planting in the formal, kitchen, herb, and scent gardens to spend much time assisting Anne with the herbarium also bore truth. Therefore, Darcy was inclined to believe him. But there followed such an angry spate of Scottish burr that he had difficulty following it, and the man's gruffness made reserve impossible.

Neck and jaw rigid, Darcy drew himself up taller. "Lady Catherine will be informed of the insolent manner in which you?—"

The gardener said such a complaint would be of little concern, and he gladly would return to his former employer. Mr Brinton, he said, had complete faith in his abilities while Darcy's termagant of an aunt mistrusted his horticultural knowledge.

Good character was paramount in a gardener. What had I been thinking to have hired such a surly fellow? Another of my mistakes. Stepping closer and having a fraction of an inch height on the inflexible Scot, Darcy calmly said, "In that case, Gilchrist, you may leave at once. You are hereby dismissed from employment at Rosings."

Gilchrist turned away to fuss with one of the new varieties of rose he was cultivating.

Momentarily distracted by the blush-hued bloom, Darcy pictured Elizabeth's lips and imagined their softness and warmth. Stepping forwards, he plucked one of the petals and placed it in his breast pocket.

Outside the stable, his agitation beyond expression, Darcy tucked Anne's Flora in his saddlebag. Riding out of the park and onto the lane in search of his cousin, he prayed she had not gone astray, in any manner.

Just as his horse had been urged into a gallop, a light carriage pulled by two grey ponies approached at a lively trot. Anne! Darcy hauled back on the reins while she did the same to hers.

Feelings in sudden warfare, he was delighted upon recognising the passenger, relieved his cousin was safe, but still angry about Gilchrist. Stopping abreast of the phaeton, he tipped his hat and forced a smile.

"Good day, Miss Bennet." In a less pleasant tone, he asked his cousin where she had been.

"Good day to you, too, Darcy." Anne gave him a wide-eyed, innocent look. "As you see, I have taken Miss Bennet for a nice little jaunt."

"You have been gone for well over an hour." Darcy lowered his head, glaring at her from under his hat's brim. "Your mother is concerned. Where, exactly, were you all that time?"

"We stopped by Gilchrist's cottage to fetch the anemones he picked for my Flora."

"Yes, yes, I know that. But where did you go afterwards?"

"We drove through the plantation." His cousin gave him a sugar-sweet smile. "Now we are on the lane, heading back to the parsonage."

Not unlike the three horses, Darcy breathed noisily through his nose. "It does not take an hour to drive through the woods."

Eyes softening, voice gentling, he leant forwards. "Miss Bennet, would you be so kind as to tell me where you were between the woods and here? And please do not say Rara Avis." Her rosebud blush matched her tempting lips, and Darcy's heart throbbed against the petal in his breast pocket.

Elizabeth glanced at Anne, then looked straight at him. "Very well, sir, I shall not."

Darcy's eyes flew wide, and he detected a fleeting quirk of her lips. Saucy little minx!

"Do not be so dull and unadventurous, Darcy," said Anne. "Yes, we went there. I wanted my dear new friend to see the place."

A feeling of dread overcame him, and Darcy's hands clenched on the reins. "From afar, I trust."

In a most unladylike manner, Anne rolled her eyes. "Even had I foolishly planned on us—two single, ingenuous ladies—calling on a bachelor, do you suppose Miss Bennet here would have consented to such scandalous behaviour?" She looked as though butter would not melt in her mouth.

His heart's desire's expression, however, indicated she obviously wished herself elsewhere, somewhere far, far removed from the cousins.

To regard Elizabeth Bennet with anything less than esteem was utterly unthinkable. Darcy tore his eyes away from that lady's lovely countenance and caught the smug smile on his cousin's face. Cunning little brat!

With a saucy grin, a forceful shake of the reins, and a mighty ‘Gee!', Anne urged her ponies to race away from him.

He might have been mistaken, but when he thought about it, Darcy could have sworn his cousin was wearing gloves that were too big for her and that Elizabeth's hands were bare.