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"Do not you dare die, Nathaniel Briar. Do you hear me? Do not you dare die."

His eyelids fluttered again, and her heart leapt, but he made no sound and his eyes remained closed. Kate swallowed painfully and forced herself to stand, knowing that she could not remain kneeling beside him. She must fetch her father and have someone sent for the doctor, and the sooner she did so, the sooner they could get Nathaniel out of this dreadful hole.

"I am going to run to the house," she told him, trying to make her voice sound calm and sensible. "I shall fetch Papa and some men and we will send for a doctor, and I shall be back as soon as I can. But if you die while I am gone, Nathaniel Briar, I shall never forgive you. Never."

She turned to go and took a few steps before rushing back and kneeling again, pressing a trembling kiss to his cold forehead and lingering for a moment before reluctantly drawing away. Then, gathering the heavy skirts of her dress, she hurried towards the ladder and began to climb, praying she would find someone at the house who could help her bring him back to safety.

Chapter Fifteen

Darcy paced up and down his study, his hands repeatedly clenching into fists before relaxing again at his sides. He was trying very hard to remain calm, but every time he thought of his daughter bursting into the breakfast room, soaked and terrified, he felt another wave of agitation.

He had woken that morning frustrated by the poor weather but otherwise in remarkably good spirits. The black mood that had haunted him for at least part of the previous evening had lifted, helped in no small part by his wonderful wife. Elizabeth, ever sensible when he was being anything but, had reminded him that he could not exercise complete control over his daughters' lives, and neither would he truly want to. He would protect them, always. He would advise them when they permitted it and interfere only when absolutely necessary. But Kate was a sensible, intelligent young woman. She would discover the world on her own terms and in her own way, just as Bella had done.

All would be well. Or so he had thought. When he had looked out of the window and seen the driving rain, he had been mildly irritated that his usual ride would have to be abandoned, but it was of no real consequence. He had gone down to breakfast feeling in good humour with the world and had just shaken out his newspaper and taken the first sip of an exceptionally good cup of coffee when the door burst open.

Kate stood on the threshold looking for all the world as though she had been dragged from the lake. Water dripped from her sodden hair onto the carpet and she wore one of Darcy's old greatcoats over her dress, the thing enormous on her and faded from years of wear. Darcy had jumped to his feet, as had Elizabeth and the rest of the family, and rushed to his daughter's side.

"Kate! Whatever has happened? Are you hurt?" he demanded, taking hold of her shoulders and looking her over in alarm.

"I am well, Papa, but Nathaniel... I mean Mr Briar. He is hurt. He fell at the barrow site, and we must send men to retrieve him and call for the doctor immediately. He has struck his head and he is unconscious." Her voice broke and she gripped the front of his coat with both hands. "Please don't let him... please hurry. I could not wake him."

It had taken Darcy a moment to process the words before his instincts took over and he began issuing orders. He sent a man on horseback to fetch Dr Franklin from Lambton and rushed out himself with several strong footmen and a cart through the miserable morning to retrieve Briar. When they had reached the young man, Darcy had thought for one horrifying moment that he was dead. His lips were tinged with blue, his face deathly pale and he did not move a muscle as Darcy knelt beside him and called his name. But there was a pulse, faint but there, and between them the men had managed to lift him onto the cart and return him to Pemberley. There his competent valet had stripped him of his wet clothes and bundled him into a warm bed.

It had all happened so quickly that Darcy had scarcely had time to reflect upon what had occurred. He had no notion how Briar had sustained his injury, although he could surmise a fall. But why had they been at the barrow site in such weather? And what exactly was occurring between his daughter and this young man that had brought such chaos down upon his household?

He stopped pacing and looked towards the clock upon his mantelpiece. Dr Franklin had been attending to Briar for the best part of an hour, and still there had been no word. He was just considering going upstairs and demanding an account of the young man's condition when the study door flew open and his eldest daughter hurried into the room, George close behind her.

"Dr Franklin has finished his examination," Bella announced. "He has seen Mr Briar and, although he confirms he is very ill indeed, he is hopeful that he will wake. He says the blow to his head is serious, but that there is good reason to believe he will recover."

"It seems Briar has quite a hard head," George added grimly.

"Well, that is some good news, at least," Darcy said, sinking into the chair behind his desk. He felt suddenly exhausted. "And Kate? How is she?"

"With Mama," Bella replied, dropping into the chair opposite him. "She was soaked to the skin and shivering dreadfully, but she is unharmed. I have never seen her in such a state! Mama and I practically had to drag her away from Mr Briar’s door. She kept insisting that she must stay with him, and now she will not utter a word. She is usually so sensible about everything. I do not believe I have ever seen her behave in this manner."

Darcy reached for a cup of coffee that sat abandoned on his desk, only to grimace at the cold liquid and set it down again. "It is understandable that she is shocked and worried. But I still cannot fathom exactly what is happening here. It seems that in a matter of days we have descended into some sort of Gothic novel. Pining glances over dinner, mysterious disagreements and now the pair of them wandering about in a storm. I half expect a ghost to start rattling its chains in the attic. What on earth is going on? And do not tell me you know nothing of it, Arabella Harwood. I know that look."

Bella and George exchanged a look that Darcy did not much care for. "Oh, Papa, surely you have noticed the way they look at one another! Kate has been happier and more talkative than I can remember, and Mr Briar can scarcely keep his eyes off her. They have had a... misunderstanding of sorts, I believe."

"My wife, the diplomat," George said fondly, wandering towards the sideboard and lifting the stopper from a decanter. "Brandy, Darcy?"

"Harwood, I do not believe it is even eleven," Darcy said flatly.

"It is not even half past ten," his son-in-law replied with a grin. "Nevertheless, it has been a trying morning. Princess?" he added, looking towards his wife and lifting the decanter invitingly.

Bella rolled her eyes but settled back into her chair. "Very well, just a small one. You are a terrible influence, George."

"And that is why you married me, my love," he said with a grin, depositing a generous glass in front of Darcy and a smaller one before Bella and returning to pour one for himself. He took a seat beside his wife and regarded his father-in-law for a moment before his expression grew more serious. "There is something I feel I must tell you about this matter."

"Oh, wonderful. More secrets and nonsense before lunchtime," Darcy muttered, taking a swallow of brandy. "I must say my family are most efficient in their chaos. Very well, Harwood. What is it?"

"Yes, well, it is something Briar told me in confidence, and under ordinary circumstances I would never dream of breaking that confidence. But given his present condition, and the fact that his family ought perhaps to be informed of his injuries, I think you should be aware of it."

"His family!" Darcy exclaimed, bringing a hand to his forehead. "Good God, I have not even thought of contacting them. I do not even know who or where they are, come to that. We have had the man living beneath our roof and I have not the faintest idea whom to inform."

"It has been a trying morning," George reminded him mildly, taking a sip from his glass and placing it back upon the table. "And as it happens, I may be able to help you there. You see, Briar spoke to me quite openly the other evening, although it was his feelings for Kate that occupied most of our conversation. He likes her a great deal. In fact, I would say he is already at least halfway in love with her."

"And you did not think to tell me any of this?" Bella exclaimed, giving her husband a sharp punch on the arm.