Page 60 of Darcy's Guarded Heart
They all turned towards the window.
A carriage was pulling up at the front of the house. Not the post. Not the grocer. And far grander than any vehicle belonging to their neighbours.
Elizabeth said nothing, but stepped quietly towards the door, her breath quickening.
The carriage had scarcely come to a full stop when the door swung open, and a tall figure stepped out onto the gravel. Elizabeth recognised him at once. Mr Darcy.
Behind him followed Mr Bingley, looking rather more sober than he had been when last she saw him, and close behind came Jane, her bonnet slightly askew from the hurried journey. A third figure descended more carefully—a pleasant, composed woman whom Elizabeth recognised from Georgiana’s brief visit as Mrs Annesley, her companion.
The entire Bennet household seemed to hold its breath.
Mr Darcy wasted no time. He approached the house with a look so grave it drew even Mrs Bennet into silence. “Forgive the sudden call,” he said, barely greeting them before continuing, “but I must ask directly—has my sister come here?”
Elizabeth’s eyes widened. “You do not know where she is?”
“She is gone,” he said simply. “We discovered it only late in the night and set of at first light.” He looked to each of them, though his gaze lingered most on her. “I believe she may have come here. Or else… I fear she may have run off with your ward, Thomas.”
Mrs Bennet gave a dramatic gasp, placing one hand against her chest, while Lydia and Kitty peered down the stairs in undisguised fascination.
But Mr Bennet stepped forward, steady and calm. “She is not here, Mr Darcy. But you are correct. She has gone with Thomas. He left during the night as well.”
Darcy’s jaw tightened. “Then you… knew?”
“I did not,” Mr Bennet replied. “Not until this morning. But he left a letter.” He produced it from his coat pocket. “I do not suppose it will comfort you, but it may clarify things.”
Mr Darcy reached for it without a word. His expression was unreadable, but his hand trembled faintly as he unfolded the paper.
“I think we ought to speak in private,” Mr Bennet said. “Gentlemen, if you’ll follow me to the study.”
The three men disappeared down the corridor, the door to the study clicking shut behind them.
Elizabeth stood still in the centre of the hall, heart pounding.
Mrs Bennet, still quite breathless, turned to her daughters. “Well! A runaway match with a Miss Darcy! Who would have imagined it? I always thought Thomas had a mind of his own, but this is beyond any expectations. Mrs Annesley, did you not suspect that anything was amiss?”
Mrs Annesley shook her head, her eyes sad. “No, I knew she had been sad but this? No, I did not see it coming.”
“Well, I shall see you to the kitchen for a cup of tea,” Mrs Bennet said and escorted the older woman inside, leaving Jane and Elizabeth alone for a moment.
“How are you here, Jane? And with such company?” Elizabeth asked her sister as she escorted her inside.
“I had meant to say something… but now may not be the right moment.”
“Nonsense, child! If it is good tidings, then speak. We could do with something cheerful amidst all this running about and scandal,” Mrs Bennet said.
Elizabeth turned towards her sister, noting for the first time the quiet brightness in Jane’s face. Her cheeks were flushed, and though her hands were clasped tightly in her lap, there was a softness about her that had not been there these many weeks.
“I wondered,” Elizabeth said slowly, “why you arrived with Mr Bingley… and Mr Darcy.”
Jane nodded and smiled shyly. “They came to Gracechurch Street last evening. Both of them. Mr Bingley asked to speak with me—and with Aunt Gardiner present, of course.”
Mrs Bennet leaned forward. “And what did he say?”
“That he had been… misled,” Jane said carefully. “That he allowed himself to be unduly influenced. By his sisters, and by Mr Darcy.”
Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. Jane continued.
“He said he had missed me terribly. That not a day had passed without thinking of me. And he asked—he begged—for my forgiveness.”
