Chapter Fifteen
The first thing Darcy became aware of was the pounding in his head.
He opened his eyes against a shaft of pale sunlight that had somehow found its way through a gap in the curtains and lay directly across his face.
For several bewildered moments he could not account for the unfamiliar heaviness in his limbs nor the unpleasant dryness in his mouth.
Then his gaze fell upon the washstand, where the offending decanter of French brandy sat with barely a glass remaining.
"Confound the stuff," he complained to the room in general.
He was out of bed almost before the words had left his lips.
Within minutes he had dressed with efficiency, but very little order.
His cravat sat at an odd angle, his coat was buttoned incorrectly and a shadow of stubble darkened his face.
Burke intercepted him in the hallway and handed him his gloves.
"I thought you might require these, sir. "
Darcy snatched them with scarcely more than a muttered word of thanks, calling back, "I shall find Miss Bennet before she leaves.
" He took the stairs two at a time and crossed the hall towards the passage leading to the chambers Elizabeth had occupied.
That they had both occupied not so very long ago.
His hand had already reached the door before he realised it stood open.
The room beyond was empty. The bed had been stripped and the deep green curtains and bed hangings drawn back to admit the morning light. Martha knelt beside the hearth sweeping ashes into a small pan. She looked up in surprise as Darcy appeared in the doorway.
"Oh, my days! You gave me a fright. Good morning, sir."
Darcy looked about the room, his eyes searching instinctively for Elizabeth before settling upon the maid. "Mrs Darcy?"
Martha blinked in evident surprise. "Mrs Darcy?"
"Yes, my wife, where is my wife?" Darcy attempted to keep his voice level but an edge of panic bled through. The girl looked startled by his appearance and manner.
"Oh... she left nearly an hour ago, sir."
He could hear blood pounding in his ears. "Left?"
"With Mr and Mrs Frost. They arrived early and set out soon afterwards. Mrs Goose saw them off herself."
Darcy stood perfectly still. The room, which only a moment before had seemed full of Elizabeth's presence, suddenly appeared stripped of it.
Her brush was missing from the dressing table.
Her travelling cloak was gone from its peg beside the door.
Even the scent of her seemed to have faded to nothing, the windows open to let in a gentle breeze.
There remained not the smallest sign that she had ever occupied the chamber.
Without another word he turned and left, the bewildered Martha watching him disappear down the corridor.
He found Mrs Goose presiding over her kitchen with the brisk authority of a field marshal.
A pie had just emerged from the oven and two flustered maids darted between table and pantry under her direction.
"There you are, Mr Darcy!" she exclaimed the instant she caught sight of him.
"I was just telling Cook you'd likely be wanting breakfast before setting off yourself. "
Darcy scarcely heard her. "You saw my wife leave?"
"I did indeed."
"And she departed with the Frosts?"
Mrs Goose looked faintly puzzled by the urgency in his manner. "Yes. A little after eight, if I remember rightly."
Darcy felt his stomach sink. "What did she tell you?"
"Only that you had some business to conclude here before following after them. She said there was no reason for everybody to delay on her account."
Mrs Goose paused, rubbing a little flour from her hands with her apron. "I confess I thought it a touch unusual. I even asked whether she'd rather wait until you were ready."
"And what did she say?"
Mrs Goose smiled at the recollection. "She laughed and said there was no need for such nonsense. 'My husband will catch us in London soon enough,' she told me. She seemed perfectly easy about it."
The words settled upon Darcy with crushing weight.
Even now, after all she had endured, Elizabeth had been thinking first of preserving appearances.
She had spared Mrs Goose every uncomfortable question, spared the Frosts every awkward explanation and spared Darcy the embarrassment of having to account for their separate departures.
She had continued the fiction to its very last moment, believing, no doubt, that once they reached London it would quietly come to an end.
Mrs Goose, entirely unaware of the thoughts passing through his mind, continued cheerfully, "Mr Frost said they meant to travel at a comfortable pace, so I daresay you'll overtake them before very long."
Darcy inclined his head, though he scarcely knew whether he had answered her at all. Then, without another word, he turned and strode from the kitchen.
"Burke!"
Before the echo had died away he was calling for Thomas, for the coachman, for anyone who could hasten their departure.
Somewhere above a door opened and footsteps answered him, whilst Thomas came hurrying from the yard, wiping his hands upon his coat.
Darcy was already issuing orders for the carriage before either man reached him. There was not a moment to lose.
Much had been left unsaid, much misunderstood and much, he feared, needlessly suffered.
Elizabeth was on her way to London believing herself forever altered in his estimation.
He would not permit her to believe it. He would not permit this violation against her to go unanswered.
There was much to set right, and, by Heaven, set it right he would.
???
The familiar Bennet carriage creaked steadily along the London road, its wheels protesting at every rut left by the receding floodwaters.
Mr Frost sat upon the box with the reins comfortably in hand, humming to himself as the horses settled into an easy pace.
Within, Mrs Frost occupied one seat whilst Elizabeth sat opposite, warm in her pelisse and watching the countryside slip quietly past the window.
Although it had been days since she had occupied this very seat, it felt like much longer.
She felt so altered that it was impossible to recollect the Elizabeth Bennet of that earlier journey.
So much had happened and her feelings were a jumble of emotions that she had not yet had time to sort through.
"My dear, I cannot tell you what a relief it was to find you safe.
Frost was beside himself when we realised we could not return for you.
But for you to come upon Mr Darcy on the road and for you to be seen safe and warm and protected.
It was what I have prayed for. I am sorry I could not thank him in person. "
The mark on Mrs Frost’s head was still livid, but her colour was normal and she looked hale and well.
"I am sorry to have caused such anxiety, I am only glad that you and the babe are safe.
And Mr Darcy was very kind but I did not see much of him once he had seen to my care and left me in the capable hands of Mrs Goose.
" It was a lie, but what else could she say?
That she had shared a room and bed with the man, lost her heart to him—only for it all to come crashing down?
"Well all is well that ends well I suppose. It is a shame I could not speak to Mrs Goose further, she seemed a sensible sort."
Elizabeth lowered her eyes to the gloves resting in her lap, her cheeks warm.
The truth is that she had rushed the Frosts out as soon as they arrived, not wanting them to discover the ruse that she and Darcy had lived during that odd bubble of time.
It felt dream-like now, a wonderful, strange and terrible dream.
Elizabeth could not trust herself with another word.
She had been careful before they left the inn.
Mrs Goose had accepted without question that Mr Darcy had business to conclude before following them to London.
There had been no awkward enquiries, no explanations to invent beyond the simple fiction she had already established.
She had hurried the departure as much as good manners allowed, anxious only that they should be upon the road before Darcy came downstairs and the deception unravelled before everyone concerned.
He would thank her for it, she imagined.
Not that she would ever have another conversation with him.
Like her, he would leave behind the strange events at The Golden Goose and resume his life.
He would continue to move in circles she had no right to aspire to, eventually meeting a young lady just as elevated as the great Mr Darcy of Pemberley.
Her heart squeezed at the thought and she stared determinedly through the window, keeping her mind blank.
The remainder of the journey passed peacefully.
Mrs Frost slept for much of the afternoon, her bonnet slipping gently to one side as the steady rocking of the carriage lulled her into comfortable slumber, whilst Mr Frost occasionally called some cheerful observation from the box whenever they passed an inn he recognised or encountered some small curiosity upon the road.
Elizabeth answered when spoken to and even found herself smiling once or twice, though every smile seemed to belong to somebody else.
Towards evening the countryside gradually gave way to the first scattered houses of London.
Before long they were swallowed by its familiar bustle, carts and wagons jostling for space whilst small, barefooted children darted between horses with terrifying confidence.
Hawkers proclaimed the excellence of their wares from every corner and the endless clamour of wheels upon cobbles filled the air.
Elizabeth had never imagined that the noise of London would one day seem so welcoming.
When at last the carriage turned into Gracechurch Street and rolled to a halt before her uncle's comfortable brick house, the front door was already opening.
Somebody within must have heard the wheels, for three small figures burst out together and came flying down the steps. "Cousin Lizzy! You are here!"
They reached her almost before Mr Frost had lowered the steps.
Edward, now old enough to imagine himself nearly grown, nevertheless seized both her hands with undisguised delight, whilst George attached himself firmly to her side as though fearful she might disappear again if he let go.
Little Lucy, arrived only a moment later with both arms raised expectantly, "You must pick me up. "
Elizabeth laughed—a real laugh, warm and unguarded, the sound surprising even herself—and gathered the little girl into her arms.
"My goodness," she said, kissing her forehead. "I believe you have grown at least two inches whilst I have been away."
"I have," Lucy replied with complete conviction.
"No, you haven't," Edward informed her with the serious conviction of an elder brother. "Papa measured you on Tuesday."
"We thought you were lost," George said, looking up at Elizabeth with anxious earnestness.
"Hush," said Edward at once. "Mama said Cousin Lizzy was only delayed."
"I prayed for you," Lucy announced, wrapping both arms about Elizabeth's neck. "Every night."
Elizabeth held her a little closer. "Then I owe you a great many thanks."
By this time her aunt and uncle had reached the pavement.
Mr Gardiner's usually cheerful countenance betrayed unmistakable relief as he embraced his niece with genuine affection.
"My dear girl," he said, holding her at arm's length to assure himself she was indeed safe and well, "you have managed to give us all a very uncomfortable week. "
"I am so sorry."
"My dear," he replied at once, "you did not summon the flood."
Mrs Gardiner smiled as she stepped forward to embrace Elizabeth in her turn. Pregnancy lent a particular softness to her countenance and her eyes were glassy. "You are home now," she said simply. "Nothing else matters."
For one brief moment Elizabeth allowed herself to believe it.
The familiar hallway smelled of beeswax and baking bread.
The children chattered all at once as they escorted her inside, each determined to be the first to tell her of some small triumph or mischief accomplished during her absence, whilst Mrs Gardiner insisted that tea should be brought immediately and Mr Gardiner declared that no traveller ought to answer a single question before being properly fed.
It was all so wonderfully ordinary that Elizabeth felt herself begin to breathe again. Whatever had happened at the Golden Goose belonged to another Elizabeth, stranded by a storm upon a forgotten road. Here, amongst the warmth of Gracechurch Street, she would find herself again.