Chapter 52
The next morning Elizabeth woke early, as she always had.
She did not feel rested, but then her mind had been on alert, knowing she was at an inn.
There were unknown people around her, and the noise from downstairs went on late into the evening.
Mrs Simmonds had gone home to her husband, but promised to return early the next morning.
Young Molly was asleep on a cot by the door, but it hardly reassured Elizabeth.
She forced herself to be calm. In what way was this more dangerous than sleeping in the hedgerows, not knowing when she would next eat or how she would live?
She had been determined to be independent, and she had felt it while caring for Nan. But it had merely been an illusion of security. Yesterday had shown her that.
She almost wished Mr Darcy had offered her the opportunity to stay at Tealing Park, but she knew she could never have accepted it. She had rolled over and buried her head under the pillow. Eventually she had slept, and no harm had come to her.
Mrs Simmonds had returned and they breakfasted together in the ladies parlour, where Elizabeth felt very much settled in the same corner she had been the previous day.
She very much wished to take a long walk as she had not been able to for many weeks, but she was not sure that she ought, after all, although she was not in mourning for a lady who was no relation to her, she did not wish to show disrespect.
So she was relieved when Mr Darcy appeared. She called for refreshments and indicated a chair for him.
“I hope you slept well.” He looked concerned. “You had a very tiring day yesterday.”
“I thank you, sir,” she said. “The chamber was quite comfortable.”
He gave her a look that said he understood she had not answered the question, but did not press the issue. “I wonder if, after the refreshments, if you would care to stroll out? I know you enjoy a vigorous walk.”
She wondered irrelevantly when he would actually address her by name.
He had not called her Mrs Darcy — he was too careful for that, but neither had he called her Elizabeth, or Miss Lucy or Miss Price.
He had not even called her madam. She smiled to herself, he was undoubtedly being careful, not wishing to offend her, but it seemed difficult.
Perhaps she ought to raise the subject and gain agreement on what he should call her.
He was smiling, too. “I wonder what caught your amusement, I did not think suggesting a walk would do so.”
“You are correct, it was quite another subject took my thoughts. But as for a walk; while I would dearly like to agree, I feel that people who see me might feel it is disrespectful.” She turned to her temporary companion. How strange that feels!
“Do you know if the date of the funeral has been decided, Mrs Simmonds?”
“It has, Miss Lucy. Tomorrow at eleven of the clock. I have asked my Jem to go for me, because I do not think there will be very many people there.”
Elizabeth was saddened for the old lady. A life virtually forgotten. Mr Darcy cleared his throat. “Would you like me to attend, to represent you?”
She frowned at her teacup. “It might not be a good idea. I do not think Mr Price would disrupt the service, but I am not certain of his temper.” She glanced up at him. “I appreciate the offer, sir. But I feel it is better not.”
He nodded quietly. “Will the ladies of the village go to the house during the service? During that, perhaps you would like me to convey you and a chaperone to the next village. You might sit in the church there to remember her.”
Elizabeth looked at him. “I would be grateful for that. Mrs Simmonds could explain why I am not at the house — I would not like to cause any trouble, and Molly could come with me.”
He smiled at her, then, appearing to be happy he was able to be of assistance, and Elizabeth caught her breath. She had almost forgotten how handsome he was, especially now he had that tender look in his gaze.
But she hardened her heart. “I think I must go out for a walk this morning, Mr Darcy. I will walk with Mrs Simmonds for now, because while I am here I would not like to stoke any ire in Mr Price.”
“I understand. It is time I left you, anyway. Are you happy that you will be safe?”
“I am. We will stay within the confines of the village, within sight of others.”
He rose to his feet and bowed. “Then I wish you enjoyment of the fresh air, and contentment.” His smile almost broke through. “I think it likely there will be letters for me from Hertfordshire and town. If so, might I call again this evening with them?”
“Oh, certainly!” Elizabeth could hardly hope for news, but if the return post was by express, she supposed there might be.
Mr Darcy’s smile broadened. “Then I look forward to your company this evening.”
Elizabeth sat in the pretty church at Gautby the next morning at eleven o’clock.
Mr Darcy sat beside her, after requesting her permission — he really was being much too careful around her, she thought, before turning to her prayer book, open at the service for the burial of the dead, and began to read.
As she read through, one line caught her attention.
For I am a stranger with thee: and a sojourner, as all my fathers were.
That was her as well as Nan, she thought. She had been a stranger and then stayed with her for a long time. She bowed her head over the text, her finger on the place. Now, Nan was gone, and Elizabeth herself must move on, a stranger, and perhaps, with good fortune, a sojourner with good people.
Mr Darcy leaned a little closer. He had retrieved his handkerchief and tucked it into her fingers.
Elizabeth had not noticed she was weeping. Was it for Nan? She must be honest, much of it was for herself. She was afraid now. The anger which had carried her from Pemberley so long ago was dulled, and the loss of this new life was painful, no matter how much anticipated.
Mr Darcy had withdrawn his hand as soon as he had given her his handkerchief, and he was sitting a respectable distance from her.
And Elizabeth could feel it. She could feel the loneliness surrounding her.
She had taken comfort from being able to be close to Nan; although she had not been family, she had been needed.
Now, she had no one. And that must be so.
She must be independent, retain her choices.
But at this moment, she could hardly remember why.
She mopped her eyes and returned to her prayer book, although her eyes were too blurred to read further. But she could sit peacefully for a time.
Afterwards they walked quietly through the churchyard, old and new headstones marking the progress of lives through this village.
“Thank you for bringing me here, Mr Darcy. It has helped a great deal.” Elizabeth was glad her voice was steady.
“I am gratified to be of assistance to you,” he replied and Elizabeth dared not look up at his face.
After a few more moments, he cleared his throat. “My sister begs that you join us for luncheon when we are finished here. She dreads the loss of your friendship.” He hesitated. “You can take Molly in the coach with you and I will ride beside the driver as I did when we came to the church.”
“Then I thank you, sir. I would not like Anna to feel excluded.” This time she glanced up, and disturbed a slight smile on his face.
“I have told her she must not ask too many questions of you just yet, that she must be patient.” He shook his head. “I promise I will not allow the situation to become uncomfortable.”