This was all she could do. Elizabeth was proud of her strength, but she knew her limits. Her hands were trembling, and all she wanted to do was lay down and sleep.
“Elizabeth Bennet!” her father shouted. “Present yourself to me! Now!”
“Papa!” she called with the last of her power, “I have found Mr. Tobias!”
She had not heard anyone else arrive, but in the end, it was Mr. Bingley who appeared at the end of a rope to tend to the old coachman. Perhaps he was the lightest one among the men.
“Miss Elizabeth,” he said cheerily, as though they were meeting at a ball, “I believe your father has requested your presence. May I?”
He was holding a second rope and when she nodded, he tied it around her and tugged twice on the slack before turning his attention to Mr. Tobias.
“Well,” she heard him saying to the coachman as she was pulled away, “you have had an interesting evening, my friend. Where are you hurt?”
Elizabeth pushed with her feet but otherwise allowed herself to be drawn up the hillside. Just before she reached the road, there was a racket below, and she saw the shadow of something being hauled back up from the edge of the slope. The carriage.
“Miss Elizabeth,” someone said. A pair of large hands, one wrapped with a handkerchief, helped her to stand.
“Mr. Darcy,” she replied shakily. “Thank you.”
“Your father has gone ahead with your sister,” he said quietly, tossing a woollen blanket over her shoulders. A groomsman must have brought it. “Please allow me to escort you home.”
“I have a mare,” she said, but even she could hear how weak she sounded. She was grateful not to have to face her father just yet.
“The men may need to set up a litter for the coachman, in which case she will be needed here.”
“Poor Mr. Tobias,” she mumbled to her feet, too tired even to lift her head. She focused on the handkerchief, which was stained with something.Oh. “Mr. Darcy, we will need to dress that properly.”
“Very well. Perhaps you should escortmeback to Longbourn?”
Even in her exhaustion, Elizabeth could hear the gentle kindness in Mr. Darcy’s voice. He was treating her politely although she was terribly bedraggled, her mind sluggish, and her words garbled. She nodded and was promptly lifted to a horse. Mr. Darcy swung up behind her and wound one muscular arm around her waist. She leaned against his broad chest and sighed, too fatigued for any effort at propriety. Mr. Darcy did not protest. He merely adjusted the blanket more tightly around her shoulders.
“My cousin and Bingley will see to Mr. Tobias,” he informed her. “Has he been your coachman for long?”
Elizabeth closed her eyes. “He has been at Longbourn for many years.”
“Ah, we have a few long-time retainers as well. I admit I am looking forward to seeing Mrs. Reynolds again. She is the housekeeper at Pemberley. I could not have been more than four when we first met.”
“Did she spoil you?” Elizabeth asked as she relaxed. Mr. Darcy’s arm tightened around her.
“Miss Elizabeth,” he said, “I know you are weary, but you must try to remain awake. It will be easier to hold you if you do.”
“Of course, I beg your pardon,” Elizabeth replied and struggled to sit up. She yawned.
“You may lean back,” he told her, adjusting her position, “but do not sleep.”
Elizabeth took a deep breath to help to clear her head.
“To answer your question,” Mr. Darcy continued, “yes, she did spoil me, particularly when she was promoted to her current position. Fitzwilliam, too. My great-uncle sadly never had children, and she was pleased to have us about. Between her and Cook, an abundance of almond biscuits always awaited us at Pemberley.”
Elizabeth could not help but smile. “Did you deserve them?”
Mr. Darcy laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that tickled Elizabeth where her ear pressed against his chest. “Not always.”
“We had no such abundance of biscuits for us, but Mama always contrived to have honey for our bread.”
“Your mother set an excellent table.”
Elizabeth shifted, burrowing closer to him. She had lost her hat somewhere, and she was growing steadily colder. Mr. Darcy was warm. “She did.”