Page 62 of Till Death Us Do Part: Book 2
Darcy stared at the ground. “Not quite. It was a message to us all. I think she framed it in a way that would only make sense if we all were part of interpreting the note. I suppose she thought that if we could not get together to decipher it, we did not deserve to know. Or perhaps, it was her last attempt to get me to do my duty to her sisters. However angry she was with you, I doubt you ever entirely left her heart, and she is perfectly aware that I have obligations.”
Everyone stared at the ground with no idea what to do or say.
Jane finally said, “We all had a hand in this. We all bear the guilt.”
Darcy saw tears in her eyes, and replied, “Perhaps we all had a hand in it, but I believe my fault is paramount.”
Mary shrugged. “Perhaps, perhaps not. We all had a hand in this, but the original sin was from our parents in general, and our mother in particular. Everything bad was triggered by her forcing the marriage on you. What did you do in the beginning? You gently pulled a woman who was attacking your honour inthe middle of a dance over to the side to defend yourself. You could have acted better after that—”
“Muchbetter. I could have acted better before that as well. There were ample opportunities to do right, and I foolishly missed every one of them.”
“Yes, much better, but so could we all have.”
Surprisingly, Kitty worked out the next problem.
“What happens if you do not find her? By your own supposition, she is likely travelling somewhere she will never be found. You are still married, so you will be stuck in some kind of Limbo—no wife and no way to remarry.”
“It is too soon to think about that. She clearly did not think I deserved any consideration. I just want to find her and talk to her. After that, if she is amenable, we will work out a way to resolve it somehow.”
They were all shuffling around, trying to decide if they should go to the house, and what they should do if they got there, when they heard the clopping of a galloping horse.
Just the sound was enough for Longman to identify it. “An express rider. They can only ride like that for a mile or so, and they usually do it right at the end to make an entrance. It gives the impression they galloped the whole way, even if they were walking the past ten miles or sitting in a pub for an hour.”
The incongruity of the observation in the middle of the present maudlin mood snapped everyone to attention, and they all turned towards the road to Meryton. True to form, less than half a minute later, a young express rider rode into sight. He saw the group and brought his horse to a stop beside Omega and Hercules. “I seek Mr Bennet of Longbourn.”
Jane faced him. “This is Longbourn, and Mr Bennet is our father. He is away until this evening. You can wait if you must, or if you leave me the letter, I will see he gets it. I have some coins in my reticule.”
Darcy said, “Allow me,” and Longman reached into his pocket.
The express rider looked concerned. “I am uncertain I can do that. I am supposed to deliver it to the addressee personally.”
Darcy said, “I can assure you that Miss Bennet is reliable,” under the assumption (usually unfortunately true) that the man would be more likely to take the word of a gentleman.
The rider asked, “Where is Mr Bennet? Perhaps I could find him. I cannot wait long, as I still have a long road to travel with a second letter, but perhaps—”
“He is in Hatfield,” Jane replied helpfully, “but I cannot narrow it down any better than that. He is not voluble about his plans.”
The rider looked doubtful. “I have to go that way anyway, so I suppose I could search for him.”
Darcy asked curiously, “If it is not prying too much, where are you going that Hatfield is on the way? Perhaps I could help you find Mr Bennet. I have business with him myself, and Hatfield is not far.”
“I am going to Derbyshire. It is a long two days at best from here, and it is already a late start.”
With a sinking feeling, Darcy asked, “I am from Derbyshire myself. Who exactly are you looking for?”
The rider pulled out another letter. It was two pages instead of the one Mr Bennet received. “Here it is. Mr Darcy of Pemberley, between Lambton and Kympton.”
“I can save you the trip. I am Mr Darcy of Pemberley.”
The man looked dubious, and Darcy said, “I am married to Mr Bennet’s daughter. Did both letters come from the same sender?”
“Yes sir.”
Darcy held out his hand, and the rider shrugged his shoulders, satisfied enough that this was the right man, and handed him both letters.
Darcy asked Jane, “Miss Bennet, can we send him to your kitchens for a meal. I will wish to question him later.”
“Of course,” Jane replied, and gave the man directions, and instructions for Mrs Hill.
