Darcy turned to help the coachman to his feet, his head still spinning with the activity of the last few minutes. When he had decided to come into Hertfordshire, he had never expected to meet highwaymen along the road—the King’s justice usually worked well to discourage such things. But he was exceedingly glad that he had stumbled upon the robbery when he did.
Though, he thought to himself, there was little doubt that the fiery woman in front of him would have thought of something. She had already proved herself to be exceptionally courageous, and her eyes sparkled with intelligence.
“Thank you, sir,” the driver said humbly, taking a step towards the front of the carriage. He stumbled and Darcy caught him before he could fall back to the ground.
“Are you certain you are well?” the woman asked, worried.
“I am fine,” the driver said stubbornly. Darcy admired the man’s determination, but he could see that the man was not up for the rigours of driving a team of four in the dark. He glanced towards the women, first to the beautiful blonde still inside the carriage, then to the one standing before him. He made his choice without hesitation.
“I’ll drive,” he said. “I can tie my horse to the back of the carriage.”
“We couldn’t possibly intrude upon your generosity further,” the woman said, her cheeks flushing.
“There is no reason to trouble yourself, sir,” the driver said at the same time, but Darcy held up his hand, and both fell silent.
“I had intended to accompany you anyway, at least until the next village,” he said. “These roads are hardly safe, and it would bring the utmost dishonour upon me to allow you to go off into danger once more.”
The woman turned and looked at her sister, moved her eyes back to the driver, his face a mass of bruises, and bit her lip, obviously thinking. Darcy could sense her internal battle with her pride, and understood the battle well.
“Are you saying, sir,” she asked slowly, a smile playing upon her lips, “that it would be unwise to travel alone this night?”
Darcy felt a smile twitch upon his own lips—if this was the logic she needed to accept his help, he would allow it.
“Indeed,” he said with a bow. “I would appreciate the company as well.”
“In that case, we accept,” she said, returning his bow with a curtsy. “With gratitude. I suppose introductions are necessary. I am Miss Elizabeth Bennet, and this is my sister Miss Jane Bennet.”
“Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy,” he replied with another bow. “Are you headed to Meryton?” Darcy asked, helping the coachman onto the driver’s seat—it was large enough for them both to sit comfortably. “I stopped for dinner at an inn a few miles back and they said Meryton was the next town. As that is my destination—well, near there—I decided to press on.”
“We live on an estate just a mile outside of Meryton, called Longbourn,” Miss Elizabeth Bennet said, her eyes following the activity.
Darcy was surprised. By their clothing, he had thought the women were the daughters of merchants or tradesmen. He had not expected they were a gentleman’s daughters.
Not a prosperous estate, he thought to himself.
“The inn made no mention of highwaymen,” Darcy said, not wanting to dwell upon his previous thoughts.
“No,” Miss Elizabeth replied. “No, Hertfordshire has been free of such bandits for years. Well, had been free. Apparently, lawlessness once again threatens our roads.” She shivered and rubbed her arms. “I just do not understand!” She said, her anger flaring. “The militia is posted in Meryton even now. I would think that the officers, if not the magistrate, would keep these brutes away!”
The coachman settled firmly on the seat, and Darcy turned to face the woman. Despite the anger in her voice, he could see the fear in her eyes. She was brave, of that there was no doubt, but the episode had still affected her.
“Officers,” he said, his own mouth twisted in distaste, “are not a guarantee of safety. They are not all the honourable men they pretend to be.”
One particular officer, a despicable man called Wickham, was responsible for this particular opinion. However, Darcy did not concern himself about including other officers in his opinion. The militia had a poor reputation in general, and it was well-earned.
Miss Elizabeth nodded, but Darcy could not tell if she nodded because she agreed or because she did not know what to say. He shook his head. He did not like to think about Wickham.
“I had better return inside,” Miss Elizabeth said, nodding towards the blonde woman, her sister. She had yet to speak. “My sister is quite frightened and I should comfort her.”
“Of course,” Darcy said with a nod of his head. “I promise to protect you both.” He raised his voice to reassure the sister. “With my life, if necessary.”
He saw a smile flicker on Miss Elizabeth’s lips, and he blushed deeply. That was quite a dramatic promise, one more apt to leap from the lips of his friends, not his own. It was true, to be certain, but he was not one to say such things aloud. He hoped the dim lantern light hid his embarrassment.
Miss Elizabeth curtsied once more, turned, and climbed into the carriage. The blonde sister had already disappeared inside.
Darcy found himself staring after her for several long moments before he came back to himself and climbed onto the driver’s seat. To his relief, it seemed that the driver had fallen asleep. He did not think he would have trouble with the team—when he was much younger, and much more foolish, he had owned a phaeton with a team of two. He felt confident he could handle the team of four.
He settled himself and flicked the reins. The horses responded at once—they were obviously well-trained. They had to be, to remain so motionless with all the commotion that had surrounded them. Darcy could feel that his grip was tight on the reins, but after a few minutes, he began to relax. The horses knew what to do, and required very little from him.
The phaeton, he had not thought of that ridiculous conveyance in years! It was all the rage for fashionable young men, and he had succumbed to the expectations of his social circle. But he soon grew tired of it. It was meant for two, but Darcy’s friends preferred to ride their own horses, and he was a bachelor. No respectable young woman would ride with him alone. So, he had ended up using two horses to get him places when one would do the job better.
It would be nice to take a ride with that woman, he thought idly. Miss Elizabeth Bennet.
He was immediately ashamed to think of putting her in a compromising position, but the desire to know more about her remained.
When he had seen the highwayman fly away from the carriage, he had expected to see a man emerge from the dark interior. He had been shocked to see an angry young woman. A pretty young woman. She was obviously strong, both in body and mind. He had heard what she said to those men—she had not sheathed her tongue in the face of danger. He knew few men who could have mustered up such courage.
Her sister, the blonde, was more beautiful—objectively speaking—but Miss Elizabeth held his interest in a way he did not think her sister capable. He realised, after a few moments, that he could not remember the blonde sister’s name. He knew Elizabeth had told him, but he could not remember. His mind was filled with Elizabeth, not her sister.
The miles flew by and he was startled when the driver’s voice broke into his thoughts. “The turn for the ladies’ home is coming up soon.”
“I thought they lived in Meryton,” Darcy said, turning to the man that he had thought was asleep.
“No, about a mile outside,” the man replied. He pointed to a large, forked beech tree. “I know Longbourn is coming up whenever I see that tree. It was struck by lightning a few years ago, but continues to grow.”
“You’re familiar with this area?” Darcy asked, seeing the turn the driver had warned of. He eased back on the reins and coaxed the horses to turn.
“My mother lives in Meryton,” the coachman said with a smile. “I live there when I’m not driving.”
“Then you know the Bennets,” Darcy said.
“I know what most know of them,” he said slowly. “There are five daughters, the eldest is the most beautiful girl in the county.” Darcy was amused to hear the sigh in the man’s voice. “And I know that the second, Miss Elizabeth, has a tongue to be feared. As we heard tonight.” He sounded proud at this. Clearly, he did not think Miss Elizabeth’s wit was to be feared, but admired.
Five daughters, Darcy thought. What a burden for their father. It was no surprise that the ladies wore dresses that did not precisely match their station.
The carriage passed a modest park and Darcy soon saw a small manor house come out of the darkness. A single candle burned in one of the windows—it was evident they had not expected the daughters of the house to return after dark. Darcy felt relieved. He did not enjoy meeting new people, especially people with five daughters, and he was glad to have a reason to depart quickly.
They pulled to a stop and Darcy heard the door to the carriage open before either he or the coachman could jump down and open it. It would seem the women were eager to be home. He settled the reins on the seat and jumped down. A yawning servant was making his way toward the carriage, and the coachman had begun to untie the luggage. The ride had cleared his head and he looked eager to prove he could do his job.
Darcy walked swiftly to the door of the coach and arrived in time to help Elizabeth and her sister from the carriage. He held his hand to Elizabeth and as their hands met, he felt his heart leap in a strange manner—certainly not in a way he recognised. He quickly dropped her hand and turned to the sister. He felt no such surprise at her touch.
“Thank you,” the sister said quietly, the first words Darcy had heard her speak. “Despite what you say, we are in your debt. I do not know how we will repay you for your kindness, but perhaps we can begin by offering you shelter for the night?”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a look of surprise on Elizabeth’s face. It seemed the sisters had not discussed this invitation. For a moment, he felt a mad desire to accept the offer. What was the matter with him? He thought and his cool head prevailed.
“That is generous of you, however, I am quite close to my destination,” he said with a bow. “Do you know of Netherfield?”
“Indeed,” Miss Elizabeth said. “It is but three miles from here. If you ride back the way we travelled, you will find a crossroads just before reaching Meryton. Take the road going east for a few miles, and the drive leading to Netherfield Hall is on the left. You shall know it at once, for it is the largest house in the neighbourhood.”
“Thank you,” Darcy said, glancing from the women to the servant and the coachman handling the luggage. “Will you be fine from now on?”
“Yes.” Miss Elizabeth smiled. “Thank you.”
Darcy bowed low to the women, who curtsied in return. “Then, I shall take my leave,” he said, accepting his horse from the coachman. “I hope we meet again under less… exciting circumstances.”
“That is our hope as well,” the blonde sister said as Darcy swung into his saddle.
“I bid you goodnight,” he said, touching the brim of his hat.
Both women gave a small wave in goodbye, and Darcy kicked his horse into a movement, leaving Longbourn behind. He resisted the urge to turn back for one more look at the brown-haired woman—he would not be able to see her in the darkness, he reasoned. Besides, he would meet her again, of that, he was certain.