Chapter Ten #2
The next morning, at the hour when all her relations were making ready to go to Beaumont Hall, Elizabeth remained in bed.
She made a decent showing of feeling poorly for Jane’s benefit, for she knew her sister would rather not participate in the deception she was enacting.
When she was finally left alone, Elizabeth sat by the window, concealed by the curtains, and watched the commotion below as the carriages were loaded with trunks, and then jubilant passengers.
Rebecca was speaking to Lady Catherine, standing on the front drive and gesturing toward the house, in the direction of Elizabeth’s bedroom.
After what felt like an eternity, Rebecca flashed a grin in the direction of Elizabeth’s window before hurrying back into the house.
The caravan of carriages departed, and Elizabeth stepped away from the window, breathing a sigh of relief.
She hurried to her escritoire and hastily penned a letter, which she would send express to Mr. Darcy.
Rebecca came into the room, laughing merrily. “Well, my mother proved most useful, without even intending it.”
Elizabeth looked up as she waited for the ink to dry on her letter. “What happened?”
“I told your mother that you were feeling poorly after yesterday’s swim, and hinted that you had perhaps swallowed too much pond water.
Of course, she was smug about it, but she nearly wished to stay and nurse you back to health herself.
But then my mother began to crow at how this might allow her to exclude Lady Catherine from certain wedding planning details, and your mother could not abide such an indignity.
She made me promise to send for the physician and dispatch regular reports of your condition to Beaumont Hall.
I assured her that I would do as she asked, but that you only need rest, and that we will surely join them in a day or two. ”
“But I will be long gone by then.” Elizabeth moved to her bureau, and retrieved a small coin purse. She offered it to Rebecca. “To bribe the doctor.”
Rebecca waved her away. “My dear, dissolute Oscar has loaned me an exorbitant sum already – I shall make it worth the physician’s while to deceive your mother.”
Elizabeth was hastily packing a valise, plundering her bureau and armoire for all her favorite garments. “Stall for her as long as you can. She does not know where Wildewood is, I do not think. She might find out, but hopefully by then, Mr. Darcy and I shall be halfway to Scotland.”
“Richard told me that he knows where it is – Mr. Bingley was listening at the door when Mr. Darcy told you, and then Mr. Bingley told Richard. It is most amusing that Mr. Darcy never wished them to know – but I cannot blame him!”
Elizabeth frowned. “Surely Richard will tell her, if pressed.”
“I will threaten him with every mortifying tale of his misspent youth, which he cannot wish Jane to hear of.” Rebecca began helping Elizabeth with her packing, choosing more practical garments as well as the elaborate gowns Elizabeth had chosen, knowing which were Mr. Darcy’s favorites.
Rebecca sent for refreshments, which she carefully wrapped and tucked into the top of the second valise, alongside Elizabeth’s diary, which would be most incriminating if discovered in her absence.
Half an hour later, the two cousins set off on foot, each carrying one of Elizabeth’s traveling bags.
It was but half a mile to Hunsford, but they instead walked three miles the opposite way, to Hadlow.
There, Elizabeth purchased a fare on a coach to Bromley, where she hired a private coach to convey her to Guildford.
She arrived in Guildford in the late afternoon, and Elizabeth had every hope of reaching Wildewood in time to dine with Mr. Darcy.
She had an hour to wait before she could be transported the rest of the way to her destination, and during that time she had a few moments of doubt.
She felt rather wretched for deceiving all her relations, but her mother had left her no alternative.
Her resolve surged again as she boarded the final carriage that would bear her to her destination.
Elizabeth wondered if Mr. Darcy had received her express, which might have reached him an hour or two before she did.
She imagined his elation at their reunion, and her body grew heated as she reflected on what her own joy would be.
She read over her diary, cherishing every memory she had documented of their stolen moments together in London, and her heart was blissfully full of the man she felt herself destined to love.
Mr. Darcy would soon be hers, and she would at long last be his.
***
Though Bingley had kept his word in aiding William’s search for the truth of his origins, they had accomplished little beyond their own frustration.
However, William was more irritated that Bingley had not kept his word regarding Kitty.
The pair of them flirted at every opportunity, and Bingley had yet to confess the truth of his identity.
William would put up with it no longer. That afternoon, while Bingley was off riding with Georgiana, Miss Annesley, and Mr. Chasuble, an express arrived from Elizabeth.
He was both delighted and deeply panicked that she was making her way to him even now – she would likely arrive before supper. Bingley had to go.
He walked to the nearby village, resolved that Bingley’s duplicity would be met with more of the same.
At the local inn, which also served as a popular pub amongst the locals, William hired two of the most imposing looking fellows he could find to pose as debt collectors, and to arrive at Wildewood a half hour after he returned, to collect Bingley under the guise of consigning Will Darcy to a debtor’s prison.
That ought to shake Kitty’s fascination with the rascal.
Bingley and the others had just returned from their ride when the two burly men came to perform this highly diverting service, and he was pleased with their commitment to maintaining severity in what was a fairly absurd commission. Bingley panicked.
“William, you cannot permit this! You know very well I have no such debts, and I will not be falsely imprisoned!”
“Falsely imprisoned? Next you will say that you are not Will Darcy at all,” William drawled.
Kitty was horrified to the point of tears. “William, you must do something! It is too awful. Cousin Darcy has reformed himself so charmingly, and we have heaps of money! Can we not help him?”
William had hardly intended to distress his ward, and Bingley jerked away from the two men who held him, a look of violence in his eyes. “William, please! It is not right!”
“What a thing for you to say to me! But I shall be generous, for Miss Cardew’s sake. I shall settle your debts on the condition that you hasten to the sickbed of your ailing friend Bunbury, whose health, I have heard, is in mortal peril.”
Bingley grimaced at him, and William led his two hired actors from the room, under the guise of paying them off.
He thanked them and sent them on their way, and then called for his servants to begin loading Bingley’s things into his carriage.
Bingley himself climbed into the barouche not half an hour later, looking exceedingly dejected, but William was utterly relieved.
Now, he could attend to his preparations for receiving Elizabeth.
Dinner would have to be put off until a later hour, and he would need to speak to Kitty, but she was nowhere to be found.
***
Kitty sat in her treehouse, sulking. Even the sight of Duchess and her kittens did not cheer her, for it only reminded her of the dashing of her hopes regarding cousin Darcy.
His being at Wildewood was the only remotely interesting thing to ever happen to her, and she wished to throttle her guardian for sending him away, even if it was to go and comfort his invalid friend.
For more than an hour, she idly perused the embellished pages of her diary, full of fanciful drawings and poetical accounts of romantic things that had never actually happened. And then she heard jaunty whistling; it was growing closer. Kitty poked her head out and cried out with joy; it was Darcy.
He smiled up at her and then climbed the ladder, still whistling up until the moment when his lips met hers.
She was startled, but she swiftly gave in to the pleasant sensation, pulling him into the little treehouse as they clung to one another in a clumsy shambles. Duchess hissed at the disruption.
They broke apart, laughing. “Cousin, you have returned! But… how?”
He grinned. “William can hardly banish me in my own carriage – ha cannot command my driver. I left the carriage in Markby, and instructed my driver to return in an hour – I believe I can yet persuade William to allow me to remain here.”
“But what about poor Mr. Bunbury?”
Darcy laced his fingers through hers. “I care nothing for Bunbury, not anymore; I only want to be with you. I believe I am falling in love with you, Kitty.”
She beamed at him, and reached for her diary, patting the ground for him to sit down beside her. “You silly man, we have been in love for more than a year.”
He sputtered with astonished laughter. “Is that so?”