5. Missing

CHAPTER 5

Missing

J ane Bennet stumbled out of the hired cart, her head a whirl, her eyes barely taking in the familiar sight of her own home. She felt, rather than heard, her aunt follow her off the hired cart and onto the sweep. A glance backwards revealed the older woman's dried tears and pale face, and Jane feared she looked little better. How dreadful this day had been, and how painfully long the journey home. It had been hours since they finally gave up hope and left the inn, and it was now almost evening, several hours after their expected arrival.

"Jane? Maddy? Why are you so late? Where is the carriage? Where is Elizabeth?" Jane's father strode towards them from the main doors to Longbourn, his wife and younger daughters hovering closer to the house. "What has happened?"

"Oh, Papa!" Jane's resolve faltered and she could hold back her emotions no longer. She dissolved into a puddle of tears, bringing her mother to her side at once.

Next to her, she heard her aunt Gardiner choke back her own tears as she approached Jane's father. "Thomas, I do not know what to say. It was... I cannot… I do not…" She looked around, eyes wide and desperate. "My children? I must see my children."

"In the back garden with three servants. They are well. What has happened?" Jane's mother caught her sister-in-law in a fierce embrace. Then she paused and looked around, her frown becoming more pronounced. "Where is Elizabeth?"

Papa sent off the cart driver with an impatient wave. "Is Elizabeth still in London? Is she ill? You look about ready to swoon." He walked back to the house as he spoke, the travellers lagging behind him, until they were all gathered in the family's back parlour. Jane was too agitated to sit, and the others, likewise, remained standing. "Now enough obfuscating. I must know what has happened. Where is Elizabeth? The carriage? Tell me your news. I fear it will not grow easier for the delay."

"Papa, they are gone!" Jane burst out through her tears. A wave of despair and guilt flooded her. "We went inside the coaching inn for tea whilst the horses rested, and when we returned…" She could not say the words.

"Lizzy was too tired to join us and said she would sleep in the carriage." Her aunt Gardiner took up the tale with a choked voice. "The servants were there to watch it, and she insisted she would come to no harm and simply needed to rest. After an hour, when we had refreshed ourselves, they came to find us. The horses were rested and harnessed and the carriage ready to complete the journey, but as we exited the building, we saw the carriage drive off at a tremendous pace. Our driver was with us, and Colin and Peggy were standing just a few feet away, but some stranger leapt onto the box under everybody's noses, and made off with it."

"And with Lizzy inside!" Jane wailed.

Jane's father stood unblinking at her side, as if he were trying to understand the words. Her mother collapsed onto the closest chair, eyes fluttering.

"Mama!" one of Jane's sisters called out. Was it Kitty? At this moment, she hardly knew. "Mama!"

"Bring her salts, Mary," their father commanded. "Kitty, see to her comfort. Lydia… help your sisters. Now," he said, turning back to his oldest daughter, "tell me again exactly what happened. And where are the servants?" His voice cracked.

Then, in an instant, his demeanour changed from despair to fury. Jane had never seen such anger on his face, or such pain. Her father was, by habit, laconic and detached, so unlike this fierce man who stood in the middle of the room.

Whilst her mother recovered her senses under Kitty's less-than-gentle ministrations, Jane fought through her misery to relate the events to her father, although she had little more to add. "We left Colin and Peggy at the inn to start a search, although we knew not where to begin looking. We sent out express riders to the next toll house in all directions, and the innkeeper assured us he would do everything in his power to find them. But if the driver left the main roads, they could be anywhere."

By now, Papa's face was almost as white as his wife's, and he reached out for a chair to steady himself.

"Lizzy is a clever girl," he managed at last with a swallow. "She will find a way. If anybody can, it's our Lizzy."

He fell into his chair now, and a tense silence settled over the room. Anxious glances replaced frantic words, and Jane had never felt so helpless in her life. Her aunt pulled her into a fierce embrace and guided her to a seat on the long yellow sofa.

The silence was broken by a tap at the door, where Mrs Hill, the housekeeper, cleared her throat. "Sir, your guest… I have offered him more tea, but…"

As quickly as Mr Bennet had fallen onto the chair, he now leapt up to his feet. "Botheration! I had completely forgotten. What a fool I am. Let me make my apologies and see him off."

"No need for either, sir," came a new voice from behind Mrs Hill. It was smooth and melodic, with a hint of the North, a gentle tenor. "I was concerned when the ladies arrived so late and without the carriage, and I confess to hearing it all. I am most pained, and will offer whatever assistance I can."

A young man slid into the room, more handsome than plain, and with a face that would, under most other circumstances, exude good humour. Now, however, his regard was serious. Jane could not take her eyes off him.

"Mr Bingley," Jane's father sighed. "Your welcome visit must, I am afraid, be interrupted. But please, although these are not the best circumstances, allow me to present to you my daughter Jane and her aunt, Mrs Gardiner, the mother of the scamps tearing up my flower beds.

"Mr Bingley," he announced to Jane and her aunt, "is to be our neighbour, having just now taken possession of Netherfield Park. We have only this afternoon been made known to each other, and I invited him to take tea with us."

There was no expression of joy or delight in the formal introductions that followed. Such sentiments would come at a later time. But the new neighbour made a handsome bow and offered pretty words. He addressed Jane's aunt with suitable salutations and then turned to Jane herself. His glance met hers and he stopped for a moment to take in a deep breath. His eyes, warm honey brown, lingered upon her. "Miss Bennet." He breathed the name like a prayer. Then, almost too quietly for anybody to hear, he breathed the name "Jane," the sound scarcely reaching her ears. She felt her face grow warm.

When he spoke aloud again, it was with all appropriate words and a firmer tone. "I beg you to accept my deepest sympathies on your present concerns, and my best wishes for a speedy and happy resolution. I wish to be of use. Any assistance I might offer is yours. What can I do? I know people in Town, could engage a Runner. Command me."

So sincere was his appeal, so sympathetic his presence, that there was no motion to evict him from this fraught family gathering, and instead of making for his own gig and leaving the Bennets to commiserate alone, he remained, muttering suggestions and offering words of comfort, his eyes flickering towards Jane perhaps more often than was entirely suitable under the circumstances.

She did not object.

Mr Bingley listened with an attentive ear, leapt up to pour the tea, offered to fetch and carry whatever the family wanted. He was kind, and whilst Jane would otherwise be horrified to share such private misery with a stranger, his company was undemanding and comforting amidst the weeping and helpless lamenting.

Thus it was that he was present when, a half an hour later, there came a loud knock at the front door, followed shortly by the hurried entry of Mrs Hill with a note in her grip.

"An express, Sir, and from Miss Elizabeth, herself." She thrust her hand out to Papa, who grabbed the envelope as if his life depended upon it.

"Oh, thank the heavens! She is alive!" Mama exclaimed, and the room was all at once filled with similar expressions of relief and gratitude. "What does it say, Mr Bennet? Where is she? Does she come? Why is she so delayed? Read it aloud."

No one asked Mr Bingley to leave, nor did he offer, but he sat there near Jane, looking most intent and concerned, as her father read the note.

"It is dated this very afternoon, only two hours past," he began as he scanned the top of the note. "Here is what she writes."

Papa, I must be brief. I am well and unharmed, but I do not know when I will be returned home. Our carriage was taken by a man claiming a desperate need to escape a foe pursuing him, in fear of his very life. He promises every attempt to return it when he is safe and is adamant that he knew not that I was inside. He professes to be a gentleman and is not unkind. Not only has he permitted me to send this missive, but has paid for its cost as well. I can only hope his claims are true. I shall remain here for the night, where I have taken a good room. I hope to get the coach tomorrow to St. Albans, and then shall engage a driver to return me home.

Should something transpire that disturbs these plans, my unwitting abductor has mentioned a possible destination in the north of Wales, somewhere near Llangollen. He has given his name as Will Darcy, with an estate in Derbyshire. Perhaps you can inquire about his character in London, where he claims to have friends and family. May it please God that I am in your embrace before long.

Your loving daughter Elizabeth.

He glanced through the letter again before folding it and placing it in a pocket. His countenance, recently so fierce, was now returned to its habitual mild indifference.

"There we have it, Mrs Bennet. Our Lizzy is, or was until an hour or two ago, quite well, and we need no longer concern ourselves with this matter. It will be a great adventure for her, and she will entertain us all with her harrowing tales for weeks on end. Shall we now discuss the upcoming assembly, or peruse the latest magazines to determine whether short or long sleeves are the fashion? I, for one, enjoy Latin texts more than Greek."

"Oh, Mr Bennet! How you vex me!" Mama wailed, bringing a lace-encrusted handkerchief to her face. "Kitty, do you have my salts?"

"Very well, my dear. Let us, instead, see to the express rider's needs, and then I shall send somebody to London at once to make inquiries after this fellow. Darcy, she said. Yes. That is the name." He looked at his company, his eyes resting on his guest.

"Mr Bingley, what is that expression on your face? You look quite like a bird who has flown into a window."

Jane turned to look at him, and indeed, their new neighbour did indeed sport a most peculiar mien, eyes wide with shock, jaw loose in amazement.

He blinked his large brown eyes and shook his head, as if to clarify what he had heard. "Darcy? Did you say Will Darcy? No! It cannot be. I know him well, if it is indeed he. Fitzwilliam Darcy is quite the last man in the world I could imagine doing such a thing. Absconding with another man's carriage? Abducting his daughter? Quite unimaginable! He is a close friend, a man I trust implicitly. I have invited him to spend the autumn with me at Netherfield as my guest. Darcy! I can hardly account for it."

Jane's papa frowned. "Could this person who has my Lizzy be using your friend's name? The man you describe hardly sounds the sort to be running for his life from some unnamed enemy."

Unaccountably, Mr Bingley laughed. "My friend, I am afraid, causes offence wherever he goes, through no intent of his own. His manner can seem cold and haughty. But to occasion a nemesis, to infuriate someone who would cause him to flee in another man's carriage? No, not he… unless…" He tilted his head for a moment and screwed up his forehead in recollection. "I did not know Darcy as a youth, but he has spoken more than once of someone from his childhood in Derbyshire, a man who harbours considerable grudges against him. When last we spoke about this man, Darcy had refused him some unreasonable demand, and received threats in response. It could be." He raised a hand to his face and gnawed at a knuckle.

"Will he harm my Lizzy?" Jane's mama sat forward, hands wringing the handkerchief she grasped. "Is he the sort to be cruel to a lady?"

Bingley looked affronted. "Darcy? No, ma'am. Impossible. Quite the opposite. Your daughter is quite safe with him. If it is, indeed, he who has taken her." The young man frowned again, fine eyebrows wrinkling under his sandy-brown mop of hair. Then, with a start, he let out an exclamation. "Now listen. I am acquainted to some degree with his relations, most especially his cousin, who is a colonel in the Regulars. I believe him to be in London at this moment. If there is anybody to know where Darcy might be going in Wales, it will be the colonel. It is almost dark now, too late to travel, but I shall set off at first light and ride to London myself to seek an audience with him. In the meantime, I shall instruct my staff to have the carriage ready, should we wish to travel to this location, wherever it is, if Miss Elizabeth does not return as expected. With luck, I will be back at this time tomorrow and will be able to meet her in this very room."

"You are most kind, sir," Jane's father bowed.

Bingley's eyes caressed Jane once more. "Anything for… for a neighbour." He gave her a half smile, and she felt herself responding likewise. There was no harm in being friendly to a helpful neighbour, after all, and with Lizzy all but certainly safe.

"Mr Bingley," she replied.

Their gazes met and lingered.

Then, as is a spell were suddenly broken, he snapped a bow and made for the door, promising to return as soon as possible.