Chapter 31
Elizabeth woke, shivering even though the afternoon had been warm compared to the night. But then, of course, she had been walking briskly, her energy high as she realised the enormity of what she had done.
She was still tired, but her determination to escape detection had her sitting up at once and looking around her.
She had walked all night and most of the morning, she thought.
At least the sun had been high in the sky when she had decided it would be better to sleep this afternoon, when the air was warmer, and the foxes and badgers were not likely to keep her awake.
The sun was setting now, back in the direction she had come from.
She turned and looked ahead. She would continue this way.
To find herself turned around and walking back towards Pemberley would be terrible, and she smiled, amused at the very thought.
By her own estimation, she had walked about fifteen miles during last night and this morning.
Her feet certainly protested her unreadiness.
She frowned. She could have done that distance easily, she thought, had she still had the opportunity to walk as often as when she was at Longbourn. Still, she was as she was.
She lifted her hand to shade her eyes and looked back.
She could still see the outline of the peaks behind her — she had grown to love that view.
But ahead of her was a new life, however short it might be, and she turned to look at the prospect ahead.
The countryside was gentler, fewer hills and less steep.
Elizabeth had found a little hollow at the base of a hedgerow on the other side, protected from the lane.
The field stretched out in front of her now, lush and green with winter wheat springing nearly knee-high.
She smiled at it, no curious livestock, no farm workers to tend them. She had chosen well.
But she had better move on. She believed Mr Darcy would search for her, despite her letter, and fifteen miles was much too close for comfort.
She was tired, though, and doubted she could do another fifteen miles today. She must find food, too, although she didn’t know how or what. The biscuits she had were hardly nourishing, but they had filled her enough to go to sleep.
But she got up and stretched after checking she was unobserved. The first thing to do was to find a stream and drink. Thirst was a greater danger than hunger, she thought. So would blistered feet. She would not be able to walk so far today.
But she was free. Free to go where she liked, free to make a new life. Free to decide that the danger was worth it.
The night had seemed very long and the darkness rather deeper. Elizabeth had probably walked only about seven miles. But she had found water at several points during the night and the little country lane had been easier to walk along than keeping to cart tracks.
The sun had risen a few hours ago and it had raised her spirits somewhat, although the reality of what she had done was beginning to sink in.
Food. Where could she buy some food? She ought to spend only a few pennies and eke out her money as far as she could. But she could not go much further without eating.
As she turned the next corner, she saw a small cottage and a woman outside, leaning on the gate, a small package in her hand. She was looking down the lane past Elizabeth.
“Mornin’. You look done in, lass.” The broad accent was a little difficult to follow, but Elizabeth smiled.
“I am rather tired,” she admitted. “But it is a lovely day.”
“Be you goin’ far?”
“I am not quite sure. I am trying to get to a relation since I lost my position when the lady passed on.” Elizabeth hadn’t even thought up a story to tell and was surprised at what words tumbled from her mouth.
“This lane takes you right through to Horncastle. My son is bringing the cart round and we’re heading east for a few miles iffen you’d care for a bit of a lift.”
“Horncastle!” Elizabeth recognised the name. “Yes, I think my cousin lives just past there and I’d be very grateful for a lift even part of the way.” She hesitated. “Is there somewhere on the way I can buy a little food? I have some money.”
The woman waved her words away. “I have some bread and cheese with me. You’re welcome to share while we ride. And that sounds like the cart right now.”
Elizabeth could hear the creaking of a wooden cart and the faint thumping of hooves along the dirt lane.
“Thank you. You are very kind.”
The woman’s name was Martha, and Elizabeth had given her name as Sarah. She felt uncomfortable about giving a false name, but was certain the search might find her otherwise.
“I don’t know quite how far I have walked. Where are we, exactly?”
“Oh, this is Whitwell in Derbyshire. But we cross into Nottinghamshire within two miles that way.” Martha waved ahead of the cart, her son sitting up in front and the pony slogging along without seeming to need direction.
She and Martha were sitting on the back of the cart, their legs dangling over the edge.
Elizabeth had never felt so free of the encumbrance of her position.
She was lighter, somehow, despite her uncertainty for the future.
A fair portion of bread and cheese had been more satisfying than the luxury of several removes at Pemberley under the stares of Mr Darcy and the footmen.
The day passed very pleasurably. Martha talked volubly about her family, but was thoughtfully unquestioning about Elizabeth’s presence.
After some hours of uncomfortable jostling at a pace Elizabeth could have kept up with in her Longbourn days, she was quite ready to climb down, although dusk would be drawing in soon.
The cart drew to a halt at the junction where it was turning north for the market the next day, and Elizabeth climbed out of the cart and stretched her aching back.
“I thank you so much for all you have done, Martha. And your son, too.”
“It is nothing. I can see you are in some difficulty. Here is some more bread for you, and I think there is a stream not far from here.” The woman pointed down the road.
“Horncastle is well into Lincolnshire and no more’n ten miles on.
” She rolled her shoulders. “After the market, we’re for Grimsby, where I’ll stay with my daughter while Peter here has a job up to Whitby. ”
“Whitby!” Elizabeth thought quickly. “Might I impose on him for an enormous favour, please, Martha? I have a letter here to be dropped off at a post inn. My … the person receiving it will pay, but it must be a postmark that does not lead to me.”
Her mind much more at ease, Elizabeth turned south east, looking for somewhere she might rest overnight. Her mind dwelled on the kindness of Martha, although she had a strong suspicion that the woman knew what might be behind her desperation. But she was somehow certain that she was to be trusted.
Her third night sleeping in the open passed more comfortably than before, comfortably full, and cheered by the companionship of the day before. And Elizabeth was much relieved that Papa would receive her note.
The following morning, at dawn, she attempted to remove as many tangles as she could with her comb and twisted her hair up into a simple knot, before returning to the country lane that led to Horncastle.
She had no idea what she would do when she arrived, and no notion of whether there would be any sort of employment there.
It might be that she had to move on. But it was, at the least, a destination.
Within a mile, she saw an old, weathered milestone. It proclaimed
Horncastle
6 miles
Elizabeth smiled; Martha had not led her false, and she swung around the corner, noting the scattered cottages strung out along the lane.
She had just turned another corner, when a cracked voice called out, surprisingly loudly.
“Lizzy!”