Chapter Eleven
Darcy and Fitzwilliam’s valets were both rather exasperated to discover that their respective masters had changed their minds yet again, but being efficient servants, soon had their employers’ bags packed ready for departure.
The horses were harnessed to Darcy’s carriage, the trunks loaded aboard, and the two gentlemen mounted their riding horses ready for departure.
Neither of them wished to take any further leave of Lady Catherine, so they departed without fanfare, traversing the five miles to the town of Sevenoaks without needing to pass the Hunsford parsonage, leaving the residents of that house quite unaware of their departure.
Arriving at the inn at about five in the afternoon, they found the innkeep rather confused as to why such important guests should wish to stay at his humble establishment, but very eager to please.
The inn’s best rooms were soon put at their disposal and an admirable meal of pigeon pie, roasted pork and cheeses set before them in a private parlour.
After their meal, Fitzwilliam stood and stretched.
“I had best go write some letters, Darcy old chap. Let the Major General know I will be delayed a few days. Would you like me to write to Father, inform him that Lady Catherine is likely to be impossible for a while now that you have finally told her you won’t marry Anne? ”
Darcy nodded, eyes on the empty plate before him. “Thank you, Richard.”
“I take it you will write to Georgie and let her know that we will not be arriving in London as planned?”
“Of course.”
“I will see you in the morning, then.”
Going into his room, Darcy looked around.
His man had set out his writing-desk, well aware that he would probably have letters to write, and he should indeed send a note to Georgiana, as well as her companion Mrs. Annesley, and probably to his London man of business.
Standing looking down at the paper laid out neatly in readiness for him, though, he could not help but think of the last letter he wrote.
An oath escaped his lips, and he spun on his heel.
In the morning would do. He could not face that taunting, mocking blank paper tonight.
Could not stand to be alone with the little voice in the back of his head mocking him, telling him that it was all his fault that Elizabeth had been hurt.
That she must have been distressed, looking at his letter.
Although he still couldn’t understand how Mr. Collins had come into possession of it.
Surely Elizabeth would not have given it to him!
Darcy thought about going into the taproom and ordering a pint of ale, but the room was noisy and smoky and he did not wish for people to begin speculating about him.
Instead, he walked out into the inn’s courtyard, taking a few breaths of the crisp evening air.
It was still light, though barely; the sky fading to a deep lavender colour as he looked up.
The post coach came in just then in a great clatter of hooves and wheels, men shouting.
Darcy retreated to a quiet spot beside the door and stood still, watching the disturbance of folks rushing about, bags being hauled off, a young lady getting out and going over to the innkeeper.
She seemed somehow familiar. Perhaps it was just her bonnet.
He had seen one in that exact shade of blue not so long ago – the lady turned to walk away from the departing coach, and he saw her face.
Darcy rushed forward. “Miss Bennet!”
Jane was just speaking to the innkeeper, asking directions to Hunsford, when Darcy came dashing up to them. Her mouth fell open in surprise. “Mr. Darcy!”
“Miss Bennet, no doubt you are seeking to get to your sister – you came post – alone?” He looked a bit shocked, but not entirely disapproving.
Jane shrugged, looking up at him. “My aunt and uncle were from home when the Express arrived, not expected back until the evening. I could not wait, so I checked the post coach timetable, gathered a few things and took a hackney-cab to the Bolt-in-Tun on Fleet Street. I was able to get a ticket on the three-o’clock coach, but no-one could tell me how far it is from Sevenoaks to Hunsford, exactly.
Is it far; shall I be able to walk the distance? ”
“Certainly not!” Darcy exclaimed in horror.
“It is almost five miles to the Parsonage, Miss Bennet; even your sister would balk at walking so far, and at night it should surely not be attempted. Pray, allow me to send you in my carriage. I am sure the innkeep can provide a maid to attend you, and the carriage will bring her back afterwards. My cousin and I intend to visit in the morning…”
“You know, then, about Elizabeth?” Jane gulped, and he could see that she was barely holding in tears. “How badly – how badly is she hurt?”
“I have spoken to the doctor who treated her, and he is confident she will recover,” Darcy said kindly, seeing her obvious distress and fear for Elizabeth.
He was painfully reminded of the way that Elizabeth had rushed to Netherfield to nurse Jane when she was ill, of the deep and loving bond between the two sisters.
Taking a deep breath, he offered Jane his arm.
“Now I pray you come inside, Miss Bennet, I will procure you a private parlour and a maid while my carriage is readied – and something to eat, I think, you must be hungry and I think the Parsonage will still be in an uproar, you would be lucky to get a meal tonight…”
Jane was quite happy to let Mr. Darcy take charge.
She had never heard him speak so many words together before, but he was being most excessively kind and considerate.
Within five minutes she found herself seated in a comfy little parlour, a maid bringing her tea to drink and a very tasty bowl of hot soup with crusty bread and a pat of fresh butter.
Just as Jane finished her meal, Mr. Darcy re-entered the room and bowed to her.
“Miss Bennet, my carriage is ready to take you on to Hunsford. I have arranged for the maid Susan who brought your dinner to accompany you there, and of course my trusted driver Jakes, and two footmen to ensure your safety. I hope you find your sister improved, and I will call in the morning with my cousin to see how she does.”
Jane smiled up at him with great relief. “Oh, Mr. Darcy, you have been so very kind. I owe you a great debt.”
“It is the least I can do, Miss Bennet,” he said, seeming embarrassed, and escorted her out to a very fine carriage.
“You must take prodigious care of Miss Bennet, and escort her to the Hunsford parsonage as swiftly as you safely can,” he instructed his driver, while handing Jane up inside.
“Then return here, with Miss Susan. The Colonel and I will go to Hunsford in the morning: be ready to depart at – nine, I think, or a little after? Then we will arrive there around ten, which should give the Miss Bennets and Mrs. Collins time to prepare for the day.” He smiled kindly at Jane, nodded at the inn-maid who was sitting quietly in a corner of the carriage, and closed the door.
Bemused by such extraordinary kindness on Mr. Darcy’s part, Jane leaned back against the almost sinfully comfortable seat and tried to relax.
She hoped her aunt and uncle were not too worried about her: she left them a note clearly stating what she intended to do.
No doubt they would be following on tomorrow in her uncle’s carriage, but Jane, on receipt of the Express just after noon, had decided there was not a minute to lose.
She had not even packed: just grabbed her reticule and put all of the money she had into it, silently thankful that her father had been so generous with her allowance and that she had been feeling too heartsick to want to spend it.
Checking the itinerary of post-coaches which her uncle kept in his office, she had found one which departed for Sevenoaks at three every afternoon, from an inn not too far away from Gracechurch-street.
Lizzy’s last letter to her had mentioned that they went to market at Sevenoaks one day, so it could not be too far from Hunsford, Jane reasoned: she was quite decided.
One way or another, she would be with Elizabeth tonight.
Jane wrote a note for her aunt and uncle and left it on her uncle’s desk.
And then she put on her pelisse and bonnet, laced on her sturdiest boots, collected her reticule and asked her uncle's man to hail her a hackney-cab.
He was reluctant to let her go out alone, but she claimed she was only going a few streets to visit a friend and had left a note for her aunt, so he eventually agreed.
And now, here she was, in a plush carriage owned by Mr. Darcy – Mr. Darcy!
– rushing through the darkness to get to Lizzy.
Thank goodness she had found him: Jane could not have imagined any way quicker to get to her sister.
It still seemed to be taking an interminably long time, for all she could tell that they were travelling fast. The carriage-lamps cast little glow outside, but she could see trees and hedges rushing past, and hear the thunder of the horses’ hooves.
At long last, the carriage slowed, and Jane peered out of the window, trying to see. She made out a house; but they kept going and finally stopped in front of the gate of the next house along the lane.
The door swung open and the footman put down the step, then extended a gloved hand.
“Hunsford Parsonage, Miss Bennet.”
“Thank you,” Jane said, stepping down gracefully.
“Your reticule, Miss,” the inn-maid spoke, the first words Jane had heard from her yet.
“Oh, thank you! Susan, is it?” Jane dug in her reticule and found a sixpence. “Here, I pray you have this, I am very grateful that you accompanied me.”
“Oh no, Miss, I couldn’t, thank’ee so much. The fine gen’lman already paid me handsomely.” The girl put her hands behind her back and refused obstinately, so Jane sighed and put her money away.
“Well, it is yet one more thing that I shall have to thank Mr. Darcy for, I suppose.” She thanked the coach driver and footmen prettily too, and by that time the parsonage door had opened and Mr. Collins was hurrying down the path, holding a lantern high.
“What is it? What calamity? Is Lady Catherine taken ill?” He stopped at the sight of Jane. “Miss Bennet! What are you doing here?”
“I am here to attend my sister, Mr. Collins; I am sorry to trespass upon your hospitality without notice,” Jane said, dipping him a small curtsy, and then, since he did not seem inclined to escort her inside, she stepped around him and walked determinedly towards the door.