Chapter 17 The Wheel Turns
Both bride and groom felt all the awkwardness of their situation, but neither had the slightest idea how to resolve it.
The obvious solution of simply starting a conversation might have been a good strategy; but between hubris, shyness, awkwardness, and stubbornness, neither was quite willing to bend enough to go first; nor did either have the slightest idea how to begin even if their courage rose to the occasion.
The first half-hour was spent with both of them looking out the window, at the other side of the coach, at their shoes, at their gloves, or anything other than the person sitting beside them.
Elizabeth did not even bother removing the bonnet she had been married in, somehow feeling that such a thing was too intimate for the present state of their relationship.
The fact that it both blocked her view of the man sitting beside her, and vice-versa was not necessarily bad.
She supposed she was obliged to adopt a mobcap, and her Aunt Gardiner had placed a nice one in her trousseau, but she was not about to change in front of a man or without a mirror.
Darcy did not even remove his hat or gloves for much the same reason, though neither would have much impact on his visibility of his new life partner unless she decided to ride with the coachman.
Elizabeth tried to think of something innocuous to say, but there seemed an embargo on every subject.
She thought the coach was much nicer than those she was accustomed to, being smoother, quieter, and much better appointed.
She almost smiled at the improvement in her situation, while reflecting that simply being inside of a coach when she arrived in Lambton would be an improvement.
She was, however, afraid that saying anything at all positive about the coach or her potential new home would sound more like gloating than anything else.
She thought complimenting the coach she had only recently acquired part of through unorthodox means would make her sound little better than Caroline Bingley.
A half-hour into the trip, she finally had some blessed distraction when she heard a familiar sound. She quickly slid across the seat and forward, which also had the coincidental benefit of moving her farther from her—
She almost gasped when the thought suddenly struck.
She was moving away from her husband, of the ‘till death us do part’ variety.
It was an idea that made her pause a second in reflection, but it was too enormous a concept to really contemplate, so her mind shied away from the implications.
Another sound shook her out of her stupor, so she continued her quest.
Mrs Darcy looked out the window to hear the familiar bark, coming from what was best described as a mutt.
Her old comrade looked more like some sort of sheepdog than anything else, though, as to looks, that was being generous.
He could have been just about any breed of dog, or some sort of odd mix.
The bark reminded her so much of when she had last heard him, well after midnight, on her brief taste of freedom, in what seemed to be years ago but was really only a few weeks.
The dog chased after them until he reached the corner, then stopped running and barking, while looking carefully at them, as if to ensure they left the area post haste.
Elizabeth thought that all she needed was an inebriated man to make the parallel experience complete; but then reflected that, with what she knew about nuptial celebrations, that was not out of the realm of possibility.
A drunken groom was not unheard of, or even unusual, particularly in cases such as hers where the groom was neither attracted to her nor sanguine with the match.
She wondered exactly how much drink would be necessary to make her handsome enough to tempt him but quelled the thought. Neither her mother’s horrific sounding instructions for marital duties, nor her aunt’s much more hopeful ones, seemed useful.
Once she passed out of view of the dog, she slid back in the seat, but taking advantage of the movement, settled a little farther from her travelling companion. She considered it a practical move, and not the least bit petulant.
She startled when Mr Darcy looked at her curiously, and asked, “Do you know that farm?”
Elizabeth frowned slightly, but she was still mostly facing the window, so he could not see her expression. She had not been quite prepared for conversation, but apparently this was to be the opening. She sat back in the seat, but farther away from the gentleman.
“I know the dog,” she said, and thought about adding some more clarifying details, or just more polite conversation; but she really had no idea what to say. ‘I heard it when I was running away to avoid this exact situation,’ seemed counterproductive.
Darcy looked a bit perplexed. “That seems… unusual. We are some miles from Meryton.”
Elizabeth just sighed, finally looked at him. “Perhaps, but that is as things are. I take it we are to Pemberley?”
Darcy thought it curious that she had studied his estate enough to know the best route to get there, but not overly so.
Anyone aspiring to be mistress of an estate was bound to learn as much as they could, and it was not exactly secret that one of his houses was north of their present location and the other was south.
It was also not a stunning bit of logic to presume that they were not on the London Road, so therefore not likely to be going to Darcy House.
With a sigh, he gritted his teeth in preparation. “You are!”
Elizabeth startled a bit, trying to work out what exactly he meant, and finally gave up. “Would you care to explain?”
With a sigh, Darcy began, “I planned to discuss this when we stopped in Hatfield, but I suppose now is as good a time as any. I must go away for some months on a mission of crucial business. You will go to Pemberley and await my return.”
Elizabeth chewed on that for a time, and while keeping in mind her promise to her father to at least try, she swallowed her annoyance, and asked politely, “Am I to know what this business is, or how long it will take?”
“It is a matter of grave family importance. My family. It cannot be delayed. I have already waited almost too long.”
Elizabeth felt the words ‘my family’ like a slap in the face.
He could not have been any clearer that he did not really consider her a part of his family, despite his recent vow to join their lives together.
In her mind, he was saying she was not a part of his family, and her pessimistic state had no trouble adding the thought that she never would be, despite a complete lack of any evidence to support the thesis.
In her distress, she surmised that this was simply a precursor to disposing of her entirely somehow, but he either lacked courage or had not worked out the specifics yet.
Seething, she asked what she thought to be a completely reasonable question.
“If your family business is to override our marriage, I suppose that is your business. Since I am apparently not to know what this business is, can you at least narrow down where you are going, and how long you expect to be gone?”
By then she was staring at the man, having given up all pretence of keeping her distance.
She still had her gloves and bonnet on, but it never occurred to her to remove them.
They were very weak protection, but it seemed like she was in more of a battle than an intimacy.
Far from moving closer, they were drifting apart already.
The first hours of marriage did not seem to be going at all well.
Darcy, seeing her ire, felt his own raising to match. His business was his business, and he was not accustomed to sharing it with anyone, especially when he had no idea if he could trust them. Someday he might trust his new bride to share his secrets, but not that day.
Absent this debacle of a marriage, he would already be sitting comfortably aboard his ship. As it was, his schedule was tight.
He also did not really want anyone knowing exactly what he was doing if they did not need to.
Bargaining with a country that they were at war with was not unheard of, but there were plenty of people in the ton who would use his mission for political or monetary advantage if they could, and there were a hundred ways to do so.
His uncle had arranged to get him to Paris quietly, depending on contacts in the British Navy to get through the blockade to the French sailors and soldiers who would take him to Paris, so advertising his location to all and sundry seemed ill-advised.
While he had not specifically caught his new bride gossiping, if she had a tenth of her mother’s capacity for the sport, he was doomed.
Thinking now was as good a time as any to establish the principle that, with or without the obey part of the marriage vows, she was to live her life under his rules and his protection, he began, “Miss Bennet,” and blushed furiously at the slip of the tongue, before correcting with, “Pardon me, I meant, Mrs Darcy.”
She just stared at him, feeling even more alone and isolated than she had before.
He continued, “I meant no offence. I must accustom myself to the change in your situation.”
Elizabeth fumed that he did not seem to think his situation was changing, just hers. Later, she would think that to be an irrational and narrow-minded interpretation, but that wisdom was not available in the moment.
She said grimly, “You are excused, sir.”
Feeling on edge, Darcy said, “I cannot say where I am going with any precision, as it is a closely guarded secret, and I do not even know the precise details myself. I expect to be gone three to six months, though nothing is cast in stone. I must catch a ship on the dawn tide, which will not wait for me, and the next opportunity would not occur for over a month. We will part in Hatfield.”