Page 21 of Infamous Relations

“Sir!” Jane squeezed his arm lightly, and Fitzwilliam shook himself out of his reverie, though he could not help but remember the way that Elizabeth had excused herself so hastily after their conversation two days ago, how she had claimed a headache and not come to dinner at Rosings. How Darcy had disappeared.

“I am well, Miss Bennet, just struck by a sudden thought,” he said lightly. “Here, step this way. Mr. Collins is very proud of his rose garden, I have heard him wax rhapsodic over it a number of times.”

What went on between Darcy and Elizabeth that evening, he wondered? Well, he would just have to pry it out of Darcy. If Fitzwilliam had made the situation worse with his disastrous remarks about Bingley and Darcy’s efforts to ‘take care’ of his friend, well, then it was incumbent on him to fix the situation.

Darcy took Bingley from Hertfordshire to remove himself from temptation, Fitzwilliam realised in a sudden burst of enlightenment. Of course. While the daughter of a mere country gentleman was a good match for Bingley, for the Master of Pemberley to make such an alliance would cause quite a stir in Society.

I thought better of you than to care for the Ton’s opinion, Darcy, Fitzwilliam thought, his lips setting in a tight line. What a tangled web you have woven here! And in so doing, you have probably broken this poor angel’s heart. He’d heard Elizabeth speak a few times of her eldest sister’s recent melancholy, though never of the reason for it.

He cast a sideways look at Jane, leaning over to scent a rose, her delicate hand cupping the petals, a soft smile lighting her beautiful features briefly as she inhaled. Well, I certainly cannot fault Bingley’s taste.

The colonel seemed to have overcome his temporary distraction, his eyes thoughtful as he looked at her now. Jane straightened up from her inspection of the rose and turned back to look directly at him.

“Mrs. Collins told me that you offered to assist in the – investigation of what happened to Lizzy, sir,” Jane kept her voice low, a murmur that could not possibly be overheard anyone but the two of them.

“Indeed, Miss Bennet,” Fitzwilliam agreed immediately, inclining his head, speaking quietly also. “Such an attack cannot be permitted to go unpunished; who knows but that next time the victim might not be able to escape?”

“You think that Elizabeth escaped?” Jane asked, curious at his choice of words.

“I do. Darcy and I returned to the spot where I found her before we came here this morning. There had been a storm just before the incident, and the ground was muddied, but the weather has been dry since. We were clearly able to discern the prints of a lady’s half-boots, the spacing too wide for the pace to be a walk, and the marks where I believe Miss Elizabeth slipped and fell down the stream bank. She was running, Miss Bennet, running from her attacker; and I found no sign of a man’s bootprints, other than my own, on that path.”

“She was attacked somewhere else, and ran that way,” Jane concluded, puzzled. “But why? Charlotte told me that you found her while walking from Rosings to the parsonage. Would Lizzy not have run here, to safety? Why run towards Rosings?”

“Perhaps her attacker was between here and the place where the path starts?” Fitzwilliam suggested. “Here, if you walk this way with me, we can see.” He accompanied her to the garden’s side gate, walked with her along the lane to where the path began.

Jane turned and looked back. “You think that she was attacked somewhere between here and there?” she said disbelievingly. “But – there are two other houses from which they might have been seen! The doctor’s house, there, and that cottage!”

She was quite correct, Fitzwilliam realised; not just a pretty face, this Miss Bennet. He castigated himself for even thinking such a thing.

“I found her not more than a couple of minutes’ walk from this spot,” he said thoughtfully. “Would you like to see the place?”

Jane hesitated, then shook her head. “No – no, not today, sir. Please, may we go back?”

“Of course.” He mentally kicked himself again. What a stupid thing to suggest! “My apologies if my suggestion distressed you, Miss Bennet, it was in no way my intention. I fear I have spent too much time among soldiers and my manners have suffered for it.”

She bestowed a radiantly sweet smile upon him. “Indeed not, sir, you must not think so! I only thought that we should perhaps see if your cousin is recovered enough to talk. Mrs. Collins and I realised something important, you see.”

“Pray enlighten me,” Fitzwilliam requested, returning her smile helplessly. No wonder Bingley fell for her. Who wouldn’t?

“Well, Charlotte and I realised that there are only six people who know what really happened to Elizabeth, since she does not remember and we have no intention of distressing her by telling her,” Jane told him confidingly. “Charlotte and myself, you and Mr. Darcy, and the doctor.”

“That’s five – oh, I see,” he looked at her admiringly. “Clever, Miss Bennet.”

She blushed becomingly. “If I may have your assurance…”

“Not a word shall ever pass my lips or Darcy’s, I promise you!”

“Of course. And Charlotte assures me that Dr. Trent’s discretion may also be trusted. So if we should hear anywhere a whisper that Elizabeth might have been compromised, rather than merely that she took a tumble, then the rumour might perhaps be traced back to its source, do you not think?” she looked at him appealingly, biting on her lower lip, anxious for his opinion.

“I think, Miss Bennet, that you are just as clever as you are beautiful,” he lifted her hand to his lips for a gallant kiss, making her blush deepen even further. “But I must impress on you that it might be dangerous for you if you should attempt to trace the source of such rumours. Please, I beg of you, bring any information that you hear to me and I shall undertake to investigate.”

“I shall, I promise, sir. And thank you, so very much, for everything.” Jane looked up at him earnestly. “It might have been so very much worse for Lizzy if you had not come upon her, had not carried her back to the Parsonage and summoned Dr. Trent so quickly. I cannot ever thank you enough; you have my eternal gratitude and friendship.”

Fitzwilliam found himself ducking his head bashfully at her praise. “Any gentleman would have done the same thing.”

“Any gentleman did not find my sister. You did. It was you, too, who wrote the notes to my family so that Charlotte would be free to take care of Lizzy; you who delivered terrible news in the most gentle words possible. No, Colonel Fitzwilliam, I know nothing of your military career, but you will always be a hero to me anyway.”

He was glad he wasn’t wearing his red coat, because he was fairly sure that his cheeks would have been even redder than its fabric.