Page 42 of Mr. Darcy's Folly
It was not until the trays had been cleared that Fitz spoke again.
“I must apologise, Darcy, for my part in this.”
“Your part?” Darcy inquired.
“I dismissed your concerns about the folly. Made a joke of them.”
Fitz waited, but Darcy said nothing. Truthfully, he did not know what to say.
“I did not heed your warning. I told myself that it did not matter, that should the folly actually collapse, no one would be inside it.” Fitz’s voice faltered as he said, “I heard it, you know. I was on my annual tour of the park when there was a sound like a hundred shots being taken and a puff of dust rising from the hill—I learned later that was the roof sliding into the trees and shearing them into bits. I came back to the house directly to tell you I was wrong, but you were nowhere to be found. Then I thought you might have walked up the hill yourself to have a look.
“I found your hat not far from the wreckage,” Fitz continued, and Darcy watched his cousin’s countenance drain of colour at the memory. “And not long after, Mrs. Collins rushed up to the site—I had to back her down the hill, for I feared the ground was unstable. She was frantic, because she knew Miss Bennet was fond of the bluebells. I told her I had sent her friend in the direction of the orchard earlier, and that seemed to calm her. But when Miss Bennet did not return, we assumed the worst.”
“Which was, in fact, correct.”
Fitz swallowed and nodded. “By then, we were already examining the hill for any conceivable way in to find you. But the ground was so unstable it was several hours before we could find somewhere we could safely dig.”
It had not been safe, but Darcy did not say so. It had likely been the only way in, and as the rescue had been a success, there was no need to elucidate the details.
A dull pain pulsed behind his eyes. “I was not so insistent about the folly because I wished to vex you or Lady Catherine or to suggest I knew better. But you must understand, Fitz, I had feared, trulyfearedthis calamity from the moment I first learned of my aunt’s plans. It has frustrated me beyond measure to be so blithely dismissed when I spoke of the risks. Even if I did not—” He closed his eyes briefly and then opened them again. “Even if I did not admire Miss Bennet as I do, I could have done nothing other than risk myself to save her, for it was my own family who had imperilled her.”
Fitz caught Darcy’s gaze and held it. “I am very sorry.”
Darcy sighed. There was no point in holding a grudge now that Fitz had tendered a genuine apology. “You are forgiven.”
His cousin released a heavy breath of relief. A brief silence settled between them before Fitz ventured another inquiry, his tone tentative. “So, you werenotmeeting Miss Bennet there?”
“At the folly? Are you mad?” Darcy replied, his words edged with incredulity.
Fitz frowned. “You were meeting her elsewhere?”
“Not intentionally,” Darcy answered. “I walked up the hill to examine the position of the folly, as I often do when we are here. I saw that Miss Bennet was in the grove gathering bluebells.” He recalled the image of Elizabeth with a bouquet of the purplish flowers held against her ivory dress. She was bending down to pick another—it had been a sight that stirred him in ways most ungentlemanly.
“We spoke and then quarrelled regarding my interference with her sister and Mr. Bingley.”
“You quarrelled,” Fitz said, though he sounded sceptical.
Darcy raised a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. Even that hurt. “Yes. I did not know what to say, so I left her standing there in the flowers. When I had descended the hill and glanced back, I saw she had taken a seat in the folly to read a letter. Then I looked more carefully at the hill and saw that the trees were leaning in towards the folly and that one of the columns was leaning out towards the trees.” He paused, recalling the fear that had struck him like a bolt of lightning. “I ran back up the hill and called to Miss Bennet to remove herself.”
“And she refused?”
“No, she complied at once, no doubt so that she might continue our argument.”
Fitz inclined his head in a conspiratorial manner and said, “My dear Darcy, I wish you the best of luck, for as clever as you are, I think your lady shall dance circles around you.”
Darcy, though wincing slightly as he shifted, allowed a wry smile to play upon his lips. “I will take whatever luck you can spare, for I seem to have used up all of my own.”
Fitz regarded his cousin with a sort of chagrined amusement. “Indeed. Though I daresay your heroic rescue might have softened her disposition towards you.”
Darcy sighed and gazed out of the window. “It is not her gratitude I am after.”
“Well,” Fitz said, settling himself more comfortably in his chair, “let us think on Miss Bennet’s behaviour, shall we? She enquired after your welfare both last night and this morning, as well as scolding me when I said you owed me for the rescue.” Here Fitz’s eyes sparkled with barely suppressed mirth. “And there is also the matter of her addressing Lady Catherine on your behalf.”
“What?”
“Oh, yes. According to the servants, my aunt burst into Miss Bennet’s chambers this morning determined to preserve your good name, but Miss Bennet explained that if your reputation had been blemished, it was Lady Catherine’s fault.”
Darcy looked away, uncomfortable with the direction of his thoughts. He must put them aside until he was well enough to act upon them.
