An (Un)believably Artful Theft (Love’s Little Helpers #4)

Chapter 24

CHAPTER 24

D arcy scrubbed his hand over his face, following at a distance. Elizabeth did not want his company, but he could not leave her alone out of doors with no more protection than Remy. She had confided in him, trusting him to act justly with a vulnerability that buckled his knees, and he had refused her. He felt wretched.

When she broke into a run, he knew in his heart that she cried. It took all his self-control not to run after her, wrap her in his arms, and make an even worse mess. Richard joined him, handing Darcy his horse’s reins. They walked in contemplative silence a considerable distance behind Elizabeth until Darcy could take it no longer. “What am I to do, Rich?”

His cousin must have felt his misery, for he spared him a humorous retort. “I take it that she pleaded her father’s case?” Darcy nodded. “Let me guess: his motive is honorable? ”

“It is.” He explained Mr. Bennet’s plan and his reasons for it.

Richard whistled softly. “Ironic, is it not? You willed the painting to Georgiana to provide for her?—”

“It means more to her than that?—”

“Yes, yes, the painting’s value far exceeds its monetary worth,” Richard interrupted. “I find it interesting how Mr. Bennet has done precisely the same thing you did for Georgie. I had not thought you and he could have so much in common.”

Darcy could not agree, but neither could he object. What if he had not been given the attention and education of a firstborn son? What if he had been hounded and ill-advised when he had lost everyone he had loved and trusted? Granted, even with his sympathy engaged, Darcy could not imagine himself giving up as easily as Mr. Bennet had done. Mistakes did not make a man a failure if he learned from them.

At the bottom of the hill was the old building Darcy had seen Elizabeth near when Bingley had first introduced them. Was it a tenant's home? It did not look to be in good repair, but not much of Longbourn was. Elizabeth and Remy disappeared inside.

“Come, Darcy, let us return to Netherfield. Miss Elizabeth is safe, and there is nothing more we can do here.”

Darcy did not want to leave her, but neither could he stay. There was no agreement they could make that would satisfy either of them. He mounted his horse, knowing he had to recover Georgiana’s painting but did not have it in him to plan his next move. Not yet.

“Do you love her?”

Darcy’s pulse froze at the unexpected question. “I like her.”

Richard’s eyebrows shot up.

“I like her a great deal.” Darcy sighed. He liked her a great deal too much! It was a miserable insight to have. No matter what he did, he would disappoint someone he loved—no, not love. That was too strong an emotion. He loved Georgiana; she was his sister, and her happiness was more important to him than anything else.

Then why was it so difficult to disappoint Elizabeth? He had to get the painting, but how could he do it without hurting her and ruining Mr. Bennet’s only means to provide for his offspring? His success would crush her father—a man she loyally loved despite his failings.

“Do I need to say it?” Richard asked.

“Say what?” Darcy asked testily.

“I was waiting to see if you would figure it out, which you obviously have not or else you would not reply in such a snappish manner.”

“I was not snappy.”

“About took my head off.”

“You exaggerate.”

Richard narrowed his eyes, slowly, pointedly searching Darcy’s face, which was scowling. “Oh yes, you are the picture of contentment.”

Darcy stared ahead. Netherfield ought to be closer. “Just wait until you fall in lo—like with someone.”

“Ha-ha! You admit it! You love her!”

“I said no such thing.”

“No, what you said is stupid. ‘Fall in like ?’ What is that? You, my dear cousin, are in love .”

“Is this what you wanted me to figure out? Because it is not helping!” Had he not been holding the reins, Darcy’s hands might have found their way around his cousin’s neck.

“It is so simple, and yet you refuse to see the obvious solution.”

Darcy gritted his teeth. “Kindly enlighten me, then.”

“You must marry the girl!” Darcy’s pulse thrummed in his ears. Unfortunately, Richard’s voice was loud enough to hear over the rush of blood to his head. “Miss Elizabeth inherits the painting. It is already willed to her. If you marry her, you will get the painting when Mr. Bennet is no longer on this earth. You will provide for his wife and daughters until they are settled, and Georgiana will get her painting back. Problem solved. Everyone is happy.”

“I cannot marry Elizabeth to secure a painting.”

“Why not?”

“She would always wonder if I married her for love or out of obligation to my sister. It is a terrible solution.”

“I do not see why. Men marry heiresses all the time for their dowries, as do ladies for security.”

“Not Elizabeth! She is too passionate. To ask her to accept anything less than the deepest love would be an insult to her character.”

“You fear she would refuse you?” Richard’s grin made Darcy want to knock his cousin’s teeth out. “You are worse off than I thought.”

Darcy urged his horse into a faster gait but could not outrun his thoughts. Were his feelings so plain that even his dunderhead of a cousin could see them? What did Richard know of love? He called his scimitar Connie!

No sooner had Darcy set foot inside Netherfield than Bingley found him, looking much too ebullient for Darcy’s current state of mind. “I have a brilliant idea! Let us call at Longbourn and see how Miss Bennet fares. I did not sleep at all last night for concern, and I daresay I shall do no better tonight until I am reassured that her health did not suffer as a consequence of a premature departure.”

Darcy grimaced. “Do what you wish. I have letters to attend to.”

Bingley looked eagerly at Richard, who said, “My horse has developed a limp. I intend to spend the rest of my morning in the stables.”

Undeterred, Bingley smacked his riding gloves against his hand. “Very well, then, I shall call with my sisters.” He rubbed his fingers over his upper lip, assuring himself that his new mustache was still there as he visibly assembled his list of arguments to encourage his sisters’ cooperation.

Grabbing Richard’s sleeve before he could escape to the stables or anywhere else, Darcy shoved him upstairs. “You are coming with me to tell Georgie the bad news.”

They followed the gloomy notes of a dirge to the music room. Darcy sat beside Georgiana on the bench, and Richard leaned against the instrument on her other side.

“Did you get it?” she whispered.

Darcy shook his head, unable to form the words yet.

Her fingers slipped off the ivory keys onto her lap. “This is all my fault.”

“No!” Darcy was adamant. Catching her chin, he lifted her face. Still, she would not look at him. “No, Georgiana. This is not your fault. You are too innocent and good to understand the ways of men like Wickham. How could you have known what he would do? I, on the other hand, knew what he was capable of, yet he still found a way to get to you. Not a day goes by that I do not regret not cutting him off much sooner.”

“You would only have succeeded in turning me against you. Perhaps I am too young and innocent to understand many things, but I know trusting him was a mistake, and mistakes have consequences. You cannot protect me from all of them, nor do I wish you to.”

With a calm grace, she rose from her chair. “I have a headache and shall retire to my rooms.” She slipped out of the room silently.

“Is it just me, or does she sound less like a child with every passing day?” Richard dabbed at his eyes .

Darcy’s emotions had reached their limit. “I will be in the library. Do not follow me unless you intend to read in silence.”

Richard bowed and took his leave.

Ten minutes might have passed before Darcy heard heavy footsteps drawing nearer in the hall. He braced himself for another round with Richard, but it was Bingley who peeked inside the library. “Is Archie in here with you?”

Darcy looked about. “I have not seen him.”

Bingley tugged at his mustache again. If he was not careful, he would not have any hair remaining by the end of the hour. “Neither has anyone else.” He shrugged off his anxiety. “He cannot have gone too far. Are you certain you cannot accompany me to Longbourn? Louisa says she has a headache and will stay behind with Hurst. I convinced Caro to go with me, but she is hardly the best company.”

“The Bennets might wish to be spared from your sister’s call if she is unwilling to go.”

“I made it quite clear that if she was not on her best behavior, I would not hesitate to send her off to Scarborough to stay with our spinster aunt and her flatulent pug.”

Darcy was happy to hear Bingley stand up to his sister, but he could not return to Longbourn. Not today―not any day. “My apologies. I am certain your company will be welcome to the Bennet household.”

Bingley smiled brilliantly. “I hope so!” Again, he looked about. “Archie! Let us go for a walk! I have your ball!” He waited, holding his breath just as Darcy did to listen for the sound of the dog’s nails clicking on the hardwood floors or the jingle of his collar. “Oh well. I daresay he will show up before dinner.”