Chapter 29 #2
Elizabeth wandered round the little room beside her bedchamber. It made a pleasant little sitting room, and was not so large as to feel she was as insignificant as she was. She glanced out of the window, fortifying herself with the view and sipping her tea.
She returned to her bedchamber. The lap desk Papa had given her when she was sixteen was a treasured item.
But when Mr Darcy had told her not to write without him reading her letters first, she had hidden it in the bottom of the wardrobe, unable to bear the sight of it sitting unused as she readied herself each day, or wandered without occupation in the evenings.
Setting the desk on the table, she was planning in her mind the letter she would write while she waited for the evening to pass, but as she unscrewed the ink bottle, the sight of the dried ink around the rim brought tears to her eyes.
She could not write her letter here, she had not even a pencil to make notes.
She returned the desk to the wardrobe and returned to her sitting room, wondering if she would ever see it again.
No doubt her belongings would be parcelled up.
Perhaps they would be placed in the attics until so many years had passed that no one knew who she had been.
Mr Darcy would not be so cruel as to return them to Longbourn, would he?
The sight of the desk would break Papa’s heart.
She must be determined. She might be of age now, but her husband still had control of her. He must never find her, or he would force her back. Back to this silent house, to having all she was, and all of herself erased, unconsidered.
She wrapped up most of the biscuits from her tea tray in a handkerchief and hid them in the drawer in her nightstand. She could not carry much, but she must not be found, must not be brought back here in ignominy.
As she watched the light begin to fade the colours in the landscape outside, Elizabeth knew very well that she might not live long. But it would be better to fail at attempting a new life, one where she could be herself than stay here, in a marriage she knew they both hated.
She allowed Emily to prepare her for the night.
Nothing must raise any suspicion; there could be no farewells.
Once she was on her way, she could say her goodbyes in her mind to all those she had grown to care for.
She swallowed a lump in her throat; she hoped Mrs Kerr could protect Mrs Reynolds, and that Mrs Ross did not feel betrayed by her absence for the Snell family.
But she could not choose her escape for when she was not needed.
“Please do not come up in the morning, Emily. I am feeling a little indisposed and hope to sleep later, when I will feel better. I do not want to be disturbed. I will ring for you when I am ready.”
“Yes, Mrs Darcy.” Emily curtsied, familiar with the habits of her mistress when each month turned.
Elizabeth breathed carefully when the door shut behind her maid. It was real, and it was today.
She had two old gowns that she could button herself at the front, and she smiled as she laid them on the bed. She had used them to walk out early at Longbourn, not needing to wait for the maids to rise.
She was very fortunate she was a strong walker; she would not dare to leave a trail of people seeing her tomorrow at least. Mr Darcy would undoubtedly send servants out to make enquiries as he searched for her. She had no confidence he would let her stay away quietly.
But she was determined. She would not be found.
She dressed quietly in the better of the two dresses, and waited patiently as the house stilled around her.
By eleven o’clock, she was sure her husband would have retired, and so would most of the servants.
Only the night footman would remain, and she would ensure he saw her climbing the stairs back to her rooms.
A single candle illuminated the desk in her office.
This was where Elizabeth passed her work days.
Here were her notebooks, her many lists of tasks to be done, things to be remembered, and notes for future ideas to benefit the tenants.
Her jaw clenched and she pushed them aside.
She would never read them again, never act on what was to be done.
She pulled a sheet of paper towards her, opened the ink bottle and picked up her pen.
Mr Darcy,
…
She had rehearsed in her mind what she would say, but it did not need to be a literary masterpiece. What she wanted was words from her heart. And yes, to hurt him as she had been hurt.
The words poured out of her and at the end, she checked she had said all that needed to be said, but not too much. Not allowing herself to think of more, or making a fair copy, she slipped off the wedding band, and enclosed it in the letter before folding and sealing it.
It was done.
She allowed herself to write a short note to her father. She would carry it with her and hope she had the opportunity to send it before too long had elapsed.
Letters in hand, she left the office, passing through the main hall. She nodded at the night footman, and knew he watched her as she climbed the stairs and turned to the guest wing where her rooms were. She knew now that this had always been only a temporary home; she did not belong.
She slipped on the second gown over the first, she could carry it inconspicuously this way, and it would warm her in the cold hours before dawn.
Then she buttoned on her pelisse, and took the tiny reticule from the drawer.
She would leave the larger one; it might be too recognisable by others if found.
Then she reached for her beloved half-boots. They were very worn now, but they were the best and sturdiest footwear she had.
She took the two shillings she had left from the money she had brought with her from Longbourn, and the wrapped biscuits from the tea tray, along with the letter for Papa.
It was not much for an open-ended journey, she knew.
The letter to Mr Darcy she propped on her dressing table by her hairbrush and pin box.
Thinking again, she put her comb and the pin box in her bag.
It was half-past midnight when she slipped silently down the servant stairs, ensuring she was out of sight of the night footman, and, in the faint moonlight, went out of the glazed door in the small blue parlour and onto the west terrace, latching it carefully behind her.