| |
––––––––
The horse broke into a gallop and Elizabeth gasped as she felt herself thrown sideways, almost losing her balance. She felt Darcy’s arm encircle her waist and his strong hand pull her close against him.
“Do not fear, Miss Bennet. I have hold of you.”
His deep voice was near, almost beside her ear, and when Elizabeth turned her head to look, she saw the strong line of his jaw next to her. If he should but turn his head slightly, their lips would meet. Elizabeth felt a sudden strong yearning, unlike anything she had ever felt before. What would it be like to be kissed by Darcy? How would it feel to have his lips on mine, his arms around me in passion rather than necessity? She caught her own thoughts, horrified at their wayward direction. What was she thinking? She felt her cheeks burning and was glad of the darkness to hide them.
Though they were riding fast and she had come out without a cloak or pelisse, Elizabeth hardly felt the force of the wind. The warmth of Darcy’s body offered ample protection and her own body seemed to be burning with strange sensations. She had never experienced such intimate closeness with a man before and her senses felt aflame: the pressure of Darcy’s legs against hers, the heat of his chest against her back, the strength of his arms around her, and the feel of his hand, splayed against her abdomen, holding her securely against him...
Elizabeth turned her head away and hastily forced her thoughts into other directions. They were climbing the hill now, the great stallion’s breath coming in billowing clouds of steam as he ploughed up the incline. The folly loomed out of the darkness, its grey stone walls seeming like a vision from a medieval past. Darcy brought the horse to a halt in front of the wrought iron door, and dismounted. He reached out for Elizabeth and she found herself grasping his shoulders of her own volition. She was lifted out of the saddle and held against him for a breathless moment, then he released her and turned towards the folly.
Elizabeth leaned against the horse and paused a moment to catch her breath, though she knew not if her breathlessness arose from the exertion of the ride or the effect of Darcy’s proximity. He seemed unaffected by their ride, coolly examining the wrought iron door which led into the folly. He reached out, grasped the handle, and pulled. The door slid open on creaking hinges and revealed the darkened interior of the tower. Elizabeth followed Darcy into the structure; they looked at the bare interior, with its stone floor and windowless walls. A narrow spiral staircase led upwards to the top of the tower. Darcy was on the first step within a second, with Elizabeth not far behind him. He climbed speedily and she followed as fast as she could, hampered as she was by shorter legs and a cumbersome gown.
At length, they came upon a small chamber at the top of the folly. This too had a bare stone floor, though in one corner, beside a narrow window, Elizabeth could see the remnants of some blankets and cushions. This must have been Anne’s cherished childhood hideout. The girl herself, however, was nowhere to be seen. Then Elizabeth spied a small ladder leading up to a trapdoor in the ceiling. It was slightly ajar.
Darcy scaled the ladder and flung open the trapdoor. He was through in a moment and reaching down a hand to help Elizabeth. She took it and hauled herself up onto the roof of the folly. The wind was fierce up here, howling around her head and tugging at her hair. In the darkness, she could not make out her surroundings for a moment, then she saw a pale form on the other side of the roof.
“Anne!”
The girl turned a scared face towards them. She was close to the edge of the rampart—too close for Elizabeth’s liking. Anne backed away, hugging her arms around herself and shivering in her thin muslin gown.
“Go away!” she cried. Her eyes were wild and her hair had come undone, whipping in twisted strands around her face.
“Anne... please... come away from there,” said Elizabeth, reaching a hand towards the girl.
Anne shook her head violently. She backed up against the rampart, then slowly pulled herself up onto the edge.
“Anne!” said Darcy, lunging forwards, only to jerk to a stop as his cousin flung out her hand.
“Stop! Do not come closer or I shall jump!”
Darcy froze.
“Please, Anne... we only wish to speak to you,” said Elizabeth
The girl shook her head, tears streaming down her face. “I did not m-mean it,” she sobbed. “It was only to teach M-Mother a lesson! To show her w-what it is like w-when one is restricted by weak h-health and illness.”
Elizabeth nodded as she surreptitiously took another step forwards.
“I... I had not realised that the p-poison would be s-so strong.” Anne took a gulping breath. “I remembered Peters warning me about the p-pesticide from the crushed tobacco leaves, but I th-thought he exaggerated its toxic properties.”
“Yes, we know, Anne; we understand,” said Elizabeth soothingly, taking another step.
“I s-simply wanted Mother to suffer a little of what I suffer all the t-time,” she whispered. “But then w-when she became so ill that night... and I thought she would die...”
“All will be well, Anne,” said Elizabeth soothingly. “Lady Catherine has recovered now and there is no lasting harm done. Just come down from there and we can—”
“It is no use!” said Anne desperately “There w-will be an investigation and an arrest. It shall be revealed th-that I attempted to p-poison my own mother! How can I live with such a reputation? It w-would be better not to live!” She turned to look over the edge of the rampart.
Elizabeth bit back a cry of alarm and resisted the impulse to run towards the girl. With Anne’s volatile state of mind, any sudden movements now could prove to be disastrous. Beside her, she could sense Darcy’s body stiff with tension as he kept his eyes on his cousin, but his voice when he spoke was calm and steady.
“It is not as bad as you fear, Anne,” he said. “No one knows of your part in the poisonings, save for Miss Bennet and myself—and Mrs Jenkinson, who I am sure can be depended upon for her discretion. There need not be an investigation into your activities.”
“But... who shall t-take the blame if I should remain blameless?” asked Anne.
“There are ways to assign a different culprit.”
Anne looked at him hopefully. “What... what do you mean?”
“I have the means to divert suspicion towards a local criminal who has been involved in some destructive riots,” said Darcy. “We can simply put it about that it was a Luddite plot to harm Lady Catherine, which was fortunately unsuccessful.”
Anne stared at him and, for a hopeful moment, Elizabeth thought that she was going to climb down. Then she shook her head again and pulled away.
“No-o... It is n-no u-use...” She sobbed, dashing her hand across her eyes. “I c-cannot bear the shame. I-I shall have this g-guilt festering inside me... and who could I confide in? I-I would have n-no friends, for who w-would want to acquaint themselves with s-such an immoral person as I?”
“I would,” Elizabeth said suddenly, stepping forwards. She gave Anne an encouraging smile. “I should like very much to be your friend, Anne, if you would let me. I do not seek perfection in my companions—indeed, I would not want such a virtuous friend! She would be an utter bore.”
Elizabeth saw the ghost of a smile touch Anne’s lips and felt a flicker of hope. She took another step forwards. She was almost at the girl now. “We all make mistakes, Anne,” she said gently. “The success comes not from never erring, but from the ability to learn from mistakes to become a stronger person.” She smiled at Anne. “That is what I strive for and that is what I believe you capable of as well.” She was close enough now to almost touch the girl, but she did not want to startle her. Instead, she held her hand out, palm up, towards the girl. “I should like a friend to keep me company on this journey”
Anne hesitated for a long, agonising moment. She turned and looked over her shoulder at the drop below and Elizabeth held her breath, her heart thumping in her chest. She felt Darcy tense beside her, no doubt preparing to fling himself after his cousin should she attempt to jump.
Then Anne turned back to her and slowly, hesitantly, put out her own hand. Elizabeth felt the icy touch of the girl’s fingers in her own and clasped them strongly. She gave a gentle tug.
Anne wobbled at the top of the rampart for a moment longer, then she stepped off the edge and fell into Elizabeth’s arms.
