Page 128 of Mr. Darcy’s Diamonds

The next morning, Fitzwilliam and Mr. Bingley chose to accompany their ladies back to Longbourn, and Jane insisted on making a quick stop at the milliners in Meryton for shoe roses and a bit of ribbon. She was not confident Elizabeth’s would match well enough.

While Mr. Bingley and Jane went into the shop, Elizabeth walked arm in arm with Fitzwilliam a few paces in front of Matthew and Dinah. Both pairings chattered gaily, happy to be out in the sun at last. Elizabeth waved to an acquaintance across the street and stepped into the empty road to cross when a closed carriage whipped around the corner and would have knocked her down if her betrothed had not quickly pulled her back to him.

The carriage did not stop, and she noticed Matthew and Fitzwilliam exchange an odd look before her footman ran after it. Fitzwilliam held her close to stop her trembling, and Dinah fussed over her. She assured them both she was well, only startled.

Matthew came back with little information. It was a nondescript black carriage headed west at top speed.

“Another attempt has been made on Elizabeth’s life.” Thomas Bennet repeated the words back to the man who had come to speak with him after returning Jane and Elizabeth home. “Thank you, Mr. Darcy, for ensuring my niece’s safety. You are certain it was a targeted attempt on her?”

Mr. Darcy had already said he could not be sure, but he was suspicious and expressed concern for Elizabeth’s protection. He offered to place his own London footmen at Longbourn to protect her until they could determine who was trying to hurt her.

“I do not think anyone will come inside to harm her. Both of the attempts were made out of doors. We will be vigilant if she goes outside. And she has her own footman with her now. She will be perfectly safe.”

“Yes, sir.”

“If you need nothing else, I was in the middle of an entertaining chapter of Tom Jones.” Thomas looked down at his book in a clear dismissal of his unwanted guest. He needed to read another chapter or two before he would be able to relax enough to consider how best to protect his niece.

Mr. Darcy cleared his throat, and Thomas looked up.

“I would like to address one more issue, sir.”

Thomas lifted his eyebrows in question. He had met Mr. Darcy a few times and thought him taciturn and arrogant. What more could he have to say?

“Miss Elizabeth has agreed to be my wife, sir, and I have come to ask for your permission to marry her.”

Thomas closed his book and tilted his head as he looked on this rich man with new eyes, and he remembered he had also hung about Elizabeth’s room those first few days of her illness looking for news.

“Why?”

Mr. Darcy coughed in surprise. “I love her, Mr. Bennet. We met nearly four years ago, and we have become good friends. I know she has not had an easy time of it in London with all the talk of her father being a tenant farmer—” Thomas scoffed. “I, er…I am aware that Elizabeth is, in fact, illegitimate, but I have told no one since she informed me of this in June. I will never tell a soul, but even if the truth were to get out, it would not change my mind. We wish to wed as soon as possible, so I would like to have your permission to buy a common license.”

Illegitimate? What was he on about? Had Elizabeth told this man a story to scare him off? It had not worked, it seemed. His niece could not possibly believe this of herself, though, having grown up with his stories of Oliver and Susannah. She must have been testing Mr. Darcy’s affection. Or the man was telling tales himself to gain his approval. No way would this rich, stern man be willing to sink so low as to marry a by-blow. He would not even marry a tenant farmer’s daughter. His type had too much family pride—Oh. Thomas understood. Mr. Darcy was high enough in the ton that he must have discovered Elizabeth’s true identity and would try to turn it to his advantage.

“You orchestrated both attempts on Elizabeth’s life at times when you could be near enough to save her. You have gained her affections in this way and thought to earn my trust and my consent. Well, it will not work. My answer is no.”

Mr. Darcy sat dumbstruck, and Thomas smiled to have outwitted him. It seemed likely his sister’s killer had found the girl at last, and it terrified him. He did not believe the man before him responsible for the violence, but he must protect Susannah’s child. Until he knew Mr. Darcy’s motives, this excuse was as good as any to put him off.

“I do not understand. You think I tried to kill her? I love her! I have loved her for years. I would never hurt her.” Mr. Darcy winced. So, he would hurt her? Had hurt her? Interesting. The sliver of doubt he felt at sending the suitor away left him.

“Good day, Mr. Darcy. Close the door on your way out.” Thomas re-opened his book.

Darcy emerged from Mr. Bennet’s study and pulled the door shut as requested. He looked up to see Elizabeth coming toward him, a lilt in her step. His heart splintered. He did not wish to tell her what her uncle had said, but he took her hand in his and whispered a plea for her to join him in the garden. She took a warm pelisse from a hook by the door and followed him outside.

“Is something amiss? Did my uncle refuse his consent because I am not yet of age?”

“He thinks…he accused me of…Elizabeth, has anyone spoken to you of the circumstances of your fall into the stream?”

She shook her head in confusion.

“After I carried you safely to Netherfield, I inspected the bridge. Your uncle and Mr. Bingley joined me there, and we all agreed that the bridge had been deliberately cut.”

Elizabeth gasped. “Why was I not told sooner?”

Darcy took her arm in his and pulled her close beside him as they walked. She held his arm in both of her hands as if trying to get closer. He had not meant to frighten her, but she could no longer be kept in ignorance.

“Your uncle wished it to be kept from you. Matthew, your Uncle Gardiner, and I agreed to wait until you were fully recovered to tell you. Besides, we could not prove you were the one meant to fall through the bridge.”

“For a month, I had walked nearly every day at that time on that bridge, and it was sturdy the morning before.”