Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
The restorative power of a good night’s sleep was not to be underestimated.
Elizabeth awoke Saturday morning in a far better mood than when Darcy left her last night.
She had allowed Julia’s animosity and Darcy’s impulsive pronouncement to get the better of her.
All he had done was manage the situation differently than she would have.
It only moved up their plans and exposed her to Julia’s vitriol and spite a little sooner.
At least now they could go home and begin their life together.
It was her temper to be happy, and now she felt right again.
She was finishing dressing when the maid came in with water and to open the shutters. “Lady Metcalfe sent along her apologies last evening.”
Was she apologising for her own accusations or for her daughter’s vulgar outburst? It was surely for propriety’s sake rather than any genuine feelings of regret.
“She also sent you willow bark tea,” the maid went on, “but Mr Darcy insisted you were not to be disturbed.”
Darcy was a dear man, and she had been impatient with him yesterday.
He was just decisive, and that was an appealing quality.
She ought not to have been so short with him for acting in her best interests.
He wanted to take care of her and stop any improper insinuations.
He was not the sort of man to always speak over her and ignore her wishes, to decide for himself without considering her.
He might even be understanding enough not to expect her to apologise for being quick-tempered. That was all the more reason to seek him out directly and say she was sorry.
“Do you know what time Mr Darcy has called for his carriage?” she asked the maid as she filled the pitcher on the washstand. “I would like my trunks brought down in plenty of time.”
“I will have someone fetch them, but I don’t think he has ordered it, ma’am. I don’t think he has even sent for his valet yet this morning.”
She had thought Darcy would have wanted to leave at the earliest possible hour, but perhaps he wanted to speak with her first, given how petulant and fatigued she had been last night. She would be ready to leave whenever he asked.
After writing a short note to her father to prepare her family to see her and Darcy today, she went to find someone to ask Darcy’s servants if one of them could act as her express rider.
It was only about thirty miles to Meryton, but sending a messenger ahead would be more polite than surprising everyone at Longbourn two days early.
She was crossing the entrance hall to find a footman when she heard someone call her name in surprise from the gallery above.
“You are up very early,” Lady Metcalfe said as she rushed down. “I thought after your trying day you would rest longer. Did you receive the willow bark I sent last night?”
“No, I had gone to bed, and only just received your kind words this morning.”
“Is the tea still in your room?”
“I presume it went back to the kitchen. I understand Mr Darcy,” she said with emphasis, “instructed the servant that I not be disturbed after my trying day.”
“And where is Mr Darcy?”
Did Lady Metcalfe hope Julia would have another chance to ensnare him? Elizabeth’s mother would never throw her daughters at a man engaged to someone else. “Arranging our travel to Hertfordshire,” she answered. Presumably, he was, but she would not admit that she had not spoken to Darcy today.
Lady Metcalfe settled her shoulders and smiled. “Perhaps whilst you wait, you and I could take a walk? I am afraid my concern for Julia has not made me a careful chaperon, nor a good friend to you.”
She had no wish to spend a moment with Julia or her mother, but was it better to be cold on parting, or be obliging?
Should she dismiss her overture or thank her for wanting to part on civil terms?
Lady Metcalfe was a friend of Darcy’s aunt, and Lady Catherine would already be angry to know Elizabeth was marrying Darcy.
It would not help to have Lady Metcalfe speak even more ill of her and accuse her of rudeness.
And her daughter was in a terrible situation, and it would cost Elizabeth nothing to be compassionate. Was she not a sympathetic person? At least Lady Metcalfe could say nothing worse than she said yesterday nor call her worse than what Julia called her.
“Very well. I have nothing to do but wait for Mr Darcy, and I would like to part as friends.”
Lady Metcalfe smiled and asked to meet her shortly.
Elizabeth did not bother with a bonnet and loitered in the entrance hall to wait.
After ten minutes she grew impatient and paced.
She looked up to where the vase had stood on a table next to the balustrade.
Darcy had been just there and she here, still near to each other after they had stopped kissing.
Then he had seen something out of the corner of his eye and pushed her out of the way.
Taking two steps back for a better view of the floor above, she craned her neck.
Had the vase really fallen that far to the side?
It had not landed directly beneath the table.
Had Darcy been right?
“Are you ready, Miss Bennet?” Lady Metcalfe had retrieved her parasol and carried a large blanket and a satchel over her arm. Elizabeth’s eyes went to them, and Lady Metcalfe hefted it, adding, “A rug for my horse. I will ride later.”
There were few garden paths near to the house, and Lady Metcalfe steered them toward the stables.
“How is Miss Metcalfe this morning?” Elizabeth asked civilly. “I hope she soon recovers from her loss of Mr Darcy.”
“I have not seen her this morning. She is not typically up this early.”
That was not a real answer, but she supposed Lady Metcalfe did not want to lie and say her daughter was resigned if she was still choked with fury.
“Given how eager she is to marry, I hope she finds someone soon,” she said. She could not say outright she thought Julia was pregnant, and certainly not if her mother did not know.
Lady Metcalfe tightened her grip on her parasol’s long ivory handle. “We have no time to lose. She is not the only one who hopes to marry. My husband has been gone these two years, and I intend to marry again once Julia is married.”
Elizabeth remembered when they arrived at Woodcote, Lady Metcalfe had said that Julia had to be married first. It was of no interest to her, but she smiled politely. “I believe in second attachments, and I wish you happy.”
“He has been the object of all my affections and wishes for a long time. My intended’s father has never liked me, not since I was younger than Julia.
But he wants his son married, and I am sure he will come around to our way of thinking,” she said in a frantic tone.
“But Julia must be settled for me to have any chance. It is a shame she fixed so firmly on Mr Darcy. I wish she considered all her options. She is a wilful girl.”
Her disapproving future father-in-law would not look kindly on Lady Metcalfe’s daughter having a child out of wedlock, but Elizabeth said nothing about it.
They walked in silence. This path led behind the stables, and unsettled feelings sank to the pit of her stomach.
There may not be pleasant gravel walks around the house, but there was no need to stroll here.
“Perhaps we could walk over there,” she said, pointing past the trees to where they would be in sight of the house.
“I want to check on my horses. Come to the stables with me.”
Arguing with her would be rude. Rather than go into the stable, Lady Metcalfe walked round the back and set down her bag and blanket on the back of a cart.
“I noticed your trunks were brought down,” she mused as they stood together. “That makes things easier.”
Elizabeth’s patience waned. Easier for what? For someone who wanted to make things right with her, Lady Metcalfe had made no apologies on her behalf or on her daughter’s. Perhaps if she appeased Lady Metcalfe, they could part amicably and she could return to the house to find Darcy.
“I think we can have nothing further to say to one another, ma’am. For Miss Metcalfe’s sake, I am sorry Darcy’s heart has settled elsewhere.”
“Yes, well, until she sees reason and chooses another man, any man, she needs to continue to try with Mr Darcy.”
Elizabeth gasped. “Did you invite me out here to ask me to look the other way whilst Miss Metcalfe continues to entice my future husband? Even if I had so little respect for myself, Darcy is the most determined man I have ever known. He has made his choice, and we are leaving this morning.”
“I suspected you would say that.”
Whilst Julia had always looked at her with a jealous eye and seemed about to boil over with rage, her mother’s emotionless stare was chilling. It made Elizabeth take two steps back. A feeling of building alarm crept over her.
“If you were gone,” said Lady Metcalfe, “and Mr Darcy thought you did not want him, he would change his mind, and Julia could have him.”
Every nerve in her body told her to run.
She spun and took three strides, but Lady Metcalfe was taller and caught her gown by the collar, roughly tugging her back and briefly gagging her.
Her necklace choked her before snapping.
Elizabeth reached behind her to pry her fingers off, but after a brief struggle, Lady Metcalfe tossed her to the ground.
She gripped her parasol in two hands and stabbed down with the handle against the side of Elizabeth’s head.
The first blow befuddled her, but she tried to turn over to get away. The second strike completely overcame her.
“Good God! Mr Darcy!”
He was being jostled, and it both drove pain through his skull and also brought him more awareness.
“Mr Darcy? Can you hear me?”