Chapter Twenty-Three
My mind was racing as fast as the train through the tunnel.
It was now obvious to me that I’d gotten Nick very wrong.
The first time we’d met, I’d written him off as some ignorant, romance-novel-hating sexist, but actually the man was clearly deeply conflicted and struggling with huge grief.
And now that I thought about it, I’d been wrong about his obsession with Darcy too.
All along I’d thought Nick was blinded by his hatred of the character and intent on destroying the novel he’d come from, but actually, Nick was trying to save Darcy from disappearing forever.
In fact, I was the one who’d been blinded by my own prejudice against Nick.
The next train to Harpenden was from Platform B in eight minutes’ time, so I rushed toward the ticket barriers on the way to the platform. A guard was standing by the gates, helping a woman with a large suitcase and a buggy struggle through.
“Excuse me, I’m looking for a missing person,” I said to the guard. “He’s having a bit of a personal crisis, and I think he may have come this way recently to catch a train.”
The guard looked thoroughly unimpressed. “Sorry, love, but one hundred thousand people come through this station every day, so I can’t really help.”
“He’s quite distinctive, wearing beige trousers, a blue tailcoat, and a cravat.”
The woman with the suitcases turned to look at me. “He’s in fancy dress?”
“Yes, sort of. It’s Regency clothing, so he looks a bit like someone from Bridgerton, if you’ve ever watched that.”
“Oh, I love that series,” said the guard, smiling. “Season one was my favorite; I love Daphne and Simon.”
“I preferred season three,” said the woman with the buggy. “The way Colin redeems himself for Pen is so romantic.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t like the way—”
“OK, I love it, too, but I really need to find my friend,” I interrupted. “He doesn’t know London well, and I’m worried he’ll get lost or worse.”
“Where was he trying to catch a train to?” the guard asked.
“I’m not exactly sure. Maybe Harpenden, but he’s a bit confused and overwhelmed.”
“Hang on, let me ask Bob; he’s been on shift on these gates since five. Bob, you got a minute?” the guard shouted to her colleague on the other side of the gates.
He nodded and slowly walked over. “Everything all right, Shirl?”
“This lady’s looking for a man who might have come through here recently. Dressed in a costume like something out of Bridgerton.”
“Oh yeah, I saw him, all right! Funny chap, spoke like someone from the olden days.”
“That’s him!” I said, relief coursing through me. “When did you see him? Do you know what train he caught? Is he going to Harpenden?”
Bob smiled again. “Don’t you mean ‘Netherfield’? That’s what he asked me for, straight-faced as anything! I have to say, he was very convincing.”
I could feel myself getting hot with impatience, but I tried to keep my voice steady. “Which train did he get?”
“He was going for the 8:32, I think—at least that’s the one I told him to catch.”
I glanced at my watch; it was 8:27. “OK, thanks!”
I tapped my card on the reader and ran through the gates toward the escalator.
“Wait, stop!” Bob shouted after me. “You’re going the wrong way.”
I ground to a halt. “But the Harpenden trains are on platform B, aren’t they?”
“Yeah, but your pal isn’t going to Harpenden. He changed his mind and decided to catch the Derby train, which goes from platform four.”
“Derby? Why the hell is he going there?”
Bob grinned again, showing a gold front tooth. “Because he wants to go to Pemberley, of course.”
* * *
Once again, we return to the theme of me running as fast as I can through train stations, cursing myself for my poor fitness and lack of sports bra.
I dashed up the escalator and sprinted toward platform four, my lungs almost bursting.
When I reached the ticket barriers, I could see the Derby train on the platform and heard the whistle to signal its departure.
“Help! I need to get through the barrier!” I shouted at the nearest guard.
“Ticket?”
“I don’t have one, but it’s an emergency and—”
“No ticket, no travel.”
“But I need to get on that train!”
“There’s another one just before nine p.m.,” the guard said. “You can get a ticket from the machine over there.”
“Please, I have to—”
I stopped as I saw the train begin to pull out of the station.
For a second, I almost sank to my knees again, but I’m English and this was a public place, so my own sense of embarrassment stopped me.
Still, metaphorically speaking, I sank to my knees and let out a low wail of despair.
Darcy was on the train, speeding northbound, and by the time it reached its destination, he might well have disappeared completely. I was too late.
Tears filled my eyes, and I blinked them away as I pulled out my phone and started to compose a message to the others.
“Miss Knight?”
I looked around to see Darcy sitting on a bench behind me. I almost whooped in relief, until I saw the right sleeve of his jacket dangling by his side.
“Darcy!” I ran toward him and pulled open his jacket, hoping to see his arm hiding inside, but it was gone. I looked up at him, aghast. “You’re fading.”
He visibly swallowed, and I saw how pale his face was.
“We need to get you to Baskerville Books. You’ve been in this world too long; we have to return you to your own.”
I turned and began to walk toward the escalator, then stopped when I realized he wasn’t following me. I spun back around.
“What are you waiting for?” I said. “This is urgent, come on!”
“Why did you not tell me who I really am?”
I felt my insides twist. “I’m sorry, Darcy, and I promise I’ll explain on the Tube. Please, we have to get a move on.” I took a step toward him, but he physically recoiled.
“You have used me abominably ill, Miss Knight. Tell me what reason you have for concealing my true identity from me—for I am a character from that Pride and Prejudice novel, am I not?”
“You are, and I’m sorry, I should have told you sooner; but I was scared that if you knew the truth, it would distress you too much. You were struggling enough with the whole time-travel thing, without the added head-fuck of finding out you’re a character from a novel.”
“But you knew from the first moment we met?” Darcy said.
“Pretty much.”
“And did you also comprehend how I got here? Is this something that occurs frequently in your world, but you always disguise the truth from your unfortunate victims?”
“No, this has never happened to me before, I swear,” I said.
“And to begin with, I had no idea how you’d got here.
But now I know…sort of. Pride and Prejudice is one of my favorite books, and somehow I read you out of a copy the night you appeared on the bus.
I had no idea I was doing it, but I think maybe I needed you here for some reason and that’s why you appeared.
The book you came from belonged to a special bookshop owned by the man you met at Bianca’s party, Nick.
I have to take you to him now so he can help get you back into the book before it’s too late. ”
I waited for Darcy to move, but he remained sitting where he was, staring at me as if I were a complete stranger.
“Did you know before today that this Nick gentleman could return me?”
Oh God. But there was no point in lying; it was all going to come out anyway. “I suspected he could, yes, but I also didn’t trust Nick with your safety. I thought he hated you and meant you harm, when actually—”
“Cease there, Miss Knight, for I do not wish to hear anymore,” Darcy said, his voice so forceful I startled.
“Have I not told you that the thing I despise above all else is dishonesty? Yet for ten days, you have lied to me, not only about who I am, but in making me believe that I could not return home. For ten days I have grieved my sister, believing her lost to me forever. And yet now I discover I could have been with her this whole time had you not disguised the truth from me.”
I opened my mouth to argue but stopped. Darcy was right. I’d been selfish, lying to him—lying to everyone—in order to keep him here with me. I deserved every bit of his anger right now.
“I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.”
He stared at me through narrow eyes. “You claim that this Pride and Prejudice is one of your favorite novels. Yet if you know it so well, you must also know that I am not someone who can easily forgive when I have been wronged. Now, goodbye, Miss Knight.”
He stood up and began to march toward the escalator.
“Darcy, wait for one second, please!” I called after him. “Before you walk away, please just hear what I have to say.”
He paused, and I could tell he was weighing whether to carry on walking or not, but eventually he turned back to face me. I took a deep breath. This was my one chance to make him understand—and whatever happened, I owed him the truth.
“You have every right to hate me for what I’ve done,” I said as I walked toward him.
“I have no excuse except to say that I have loved you since the first time I read Pride and Prejudice as a young teenager with my mum. It was her favorite book, and we read it together many times, and after she died, you and that story helped me through the darkest time of my life. But more than that, you showed me that men can be honest and loyal and kind, even when the men I know consistently showed the opposite. You taught me to believe I deserve more from my life than the people who put me down or abandon me, and that I shouldn’t give up on something I love, even when it seems impossible. ”
Darcy frowned and opened his mouth to speak, but I pushed on in case these were the last words I ever got to say to him.
“The thing is, Mr. Darcy, it’s not just me who loves you.
There are millions of people around the world who adore you just as much as I do.
And not just you either. Readers for generations have loved Elizabeth Bennet for her spirit, her wit, and her refusal to give in to the expectations of society.
Your story—your and Elizabeth’s story—is one of the most popular ever written. ”
Darcy’s eyes widened. “Miss Bennet’s and my story?”
I swallowed. I had no idea if I should say any of this to him, but right now, being honest seemed like the only chance I had to make him understand.
“I don’t know how much of Pride and Prejudice you read earlier, but the book is about a romance between you and Elizabeth.”
“A romance!” he gasped. “But I do believe she despises me.”
“At the beginning she does, but things change. You two both misunderstand each other, your judgments clouded by prejudice and pride, but eventually you come to realize your mistakes.”
Darcy frowned, rubbing his forehead with his hand.
“This morning I believed myself to be a time-traveler, and now you tell me that not only am I a character from a fictional story, but that I am destined to fall in love with a woman who vexes me greatly. What about free will? I am not sure I wish to return to a novel such as this!”
“I know it’s a lot to take in, but here’s the thing. If you stay here, you’ll continue to fade, and eventually you’ll disappear completely. And when that happens, it won’t just be you that ceases to exist—it will be the entire novel and everyone in it.”
Darcy’s eyes snapped to mine. “You mean to say Georgiana—”
“Georgiana, Mr. Bingley, Elizabeth Bennet. Every character in Pride and Prejudice—in your life—will disappear when you do. That’s why it’s so important we get you back in the novel.”
“Then we have wasted too much time already,” Darcy said, turning away from me. “Take me to Baskerville Books at once.”