a little disruption.
A slight movement caught her attention, and she looked up to see Misty going up the stairs. “Oh, no!” Elizabeth said softly and let out a frustrated sigh. She saw no one to ask for help, so she kept following the cat, calling her name softly.
“Misty, here, kitty! Here, kitty!” The cat stopped at the top of the stairs and looked down as if to see whether she was still being followed. Elizabeth stopped her movement and gently called her. “Come here, Misty.” Leaning over, she held out her hand, as if fingering some delectable morsel. Misty looked at her for a brief moment, and then turned and ran off again. She watched in dismay as the cat disappeared around the corner that led to Mr. Darcy’s private chambers.
“Oh, no!” Elizabeth’s eyes widened as her heart pounded mercilessly.
When Elizabeth reached the top of the stairs, she was out of breath and quite distressed. She knew Mrs. Reynolds would not be happy about a cat loose in the house. She also knew that venturing down this hall was completely forbidden to her. She stood at the corner of the hall looking down and debated what she ought to do.
When she spied Misty lying casually under a small table in the hallway, Elizabeth made a quick decision. She believed that she could easily catch the cat now if she approached her very calmly. At least all the doors along the hall were closed, and the worst that could happen was that the cat would run all the way to the end of the hall. Or… that someone would come up and find her here.
Her heart reminded her with every beat that she should stop and turn around. She deemed it prudent to call out for someone, just to alert anyone that might be up here that she needed help. “Hello? Is anyone here? Come here, Misty. Come here, kitty. Anyone?”
She walked slowly toward the cat, bending low and holding out her hand. How she wished she had thought to obtain a morsel of meat to entice the cat! “Here, Misty! Come to me!”
The cat eyed her from its reclined position, but Elizabeth could see by the look in Misty’s eyes that if she felt threatened at all, she would be up and gone in an instant. Elizabeth paused, making an attempt to soothe and reassure the cat. “Misty, I mean you no harm. Please, allow me to come pick you up! You…
The sound of a door opening just opposite her caused her to scramble to her feet. Her face whitened in dismay as she found herself staring into the face of Mr. Darcy. His hair was wet and dishevelled and his shirttails were loose. Her face displayed her great sense of mortification, as his exhibited surprise. “Miss Bennet?”
“Please forgive me, Mr. Darcy. You must wonder… allow me to explain… you see…”
At that moment, Misty, startled by the opening door and Mr. Darcy’s presence, darted for the open door in which he stood. Both pairs of eyes widened as the cat rushed past Mr. Darcy, who made a futile attempt to snatch her up. In a shaky voice, Elizabeth blurted out, “Misty escaped from the north wing, and I was trying to retrieve her.”
Darcy turned to look into the room for the cat and then back at Elizabeth. He shook his head, the beginning of a smile slightly curving his lips. “Wait here. I believe she ran under the bed.”
He walked back in, calling the cat.
Elizabeth hesitantly took some steps toward the room, letting her gaze take in its beauty. With each step she took closer, she was able to see more and more. It was a massive room with a definite masculine look. Two large windows were framed with dark green window coverings. It reminded her of the dark green of Pemberley’s woods. She could see a plush chair in the corner of the room and a large bed covered with an intricately designed quilt in the same dark green, accented with navy blue, burgundy, and a milky white. Heavy wood furniture dotted the room, but did not overwhelm it.
She was no longer able to see Darcy but could hear him trying to coax the cat out from under his bed. She assumed he was on the other side on the floor. She stifled a nervous laugh that threatened to burst from her as she waited for him to rescue the cat—again.
At length, when he did not seem to have as much luck as he had getting her down from the tree, Elizabeth decided she had best leave before anyone came. He could always bring Misty downstairs once he retrieved her. Elizabeth was just about to suggest that when he stood up with cat in hand. As he turned and saw her at the door, he stopped and took in a sharp breath. His eyes darkened and did not leave her face.
He held Misty close to him, scratching the cat’s head as he slowly began to walk toward Elizabeth. He stopped when he was standing in front of her just inside the room. He said nothing.
Elizabeth could not determine from his demeanour whether or not he was angry with her for coming to this part of the house or angry at the cat, but his silence unnerved her. She took a very small step forward and, with every attempt at keeping her voice calm, said, “I will take her down.”
As Darcy stepped forward to bridge the final distance between them and handed the cat to her, he said in an uneven voice, “Miss Bennet, we must talk.”
As she wrapped her arms around Misty, she felt the warmth of his body and the strength of his arms. She knew she should not look up at him, for he would certainly see the strength of feeling she now had for him. But she could not help it and soon found herself gazing up into his face.
“Yes,” she said barely above a whisper, both their arms still wrapped around the cat. A noise at the end of the hall prompted Elizabeth to continue. “But not now… not
“No, not here,” he concurred, his voice gravelly. Reluctantly he pulled his arms from between her and the cat. “But soon.”
“Yes, soon,” Elizabeth answered, willing herself to turn her eyes from his.
“It would be best if you left before someone sees you and makes a wrong assumption.”
Elizabeth turned, eager to flee from this wing before anyone saw her, yet desiring to linger and gaze a little longer into Mr. Darcy’s eyes.
Elizabeth scurried toward the stairs, holding tightly onto the cat, her heart only now beginning to still since first coming up here in her pursuit of the feline. Her mind raced with a myriad of thoughts as she considered this past week. She shook her head as she thought back to her first day, when she encountered Mr. Darcy unexpectedly in his library. She had been mortified!
Now, when faced with a similar situation, she had all the assurance that Mr. Darcy thought no less of her and possibly still had those feelings of love he once had for her. He wished to talk with her! The very thought evoked feelings of both heightened anticipation and solemn dread, depending on what it was she imagined he wished to say. There was always the possibility that he wished to put her in her place and discourage any expectations she may have in securing his affections anew.
When she returned to the north wing with Misty, she encountered not only the women and children, but the men as well. Since the immediate threat of flooding was over, they had returned to get some much needed rest. Apparently Mr. Darcy had just returned when she encountered him.
Elizabeth quickly found Rachel, who was anxiously waiting for her return, and handed Misty to her. She admonished her to keep the cat in their room so she would not escape again, although the thought crossed Elizabeth’s mind that she would not mind chasing after her if she could encounter Mr. Darcy again. She surprised herself by giggling as she considered the state in which he had stepped from his room. She shook her head as she recalled how startled they both were.
She visited with Rachel and her mother for a while, holding the baby while they chatted. When Mr. Weber returned, she was happy to make his acquaintance. He told them how the rivers had receded sufficiently, and although still muddy, the road between Pemberley and their neighbourhood was well packed down and safe enough for the conveyance of the laden carriages.
That night at dinner, everyone was in the highest of spirits, confident that things would soon return to normal. The tenants would be leaving, and Mr. Darcy would no longer be occupied with the obligations that had been placed upon him.
While Rosalyn had disparaged it, Elizabeth appreciated how Mr. Darcy had taken it upon himself to ensure the safety of his tenants and their transition to Pemberley, and then took such prodigious measures to prevent damage to their homes. As Rosalyn had informed him—as inappropriate as her meddling was—he was certainly not required to go himself. But as Mrs. Reynolds had said, he was very good to his tenants, and this was a prime example—a tangible display—of his care and concern for them. That his good friend and cousin accompanied him was an indication of their respect for this man and his ways.
