Chapter 14
They stopped at Lady Catherine’s London house, hoping to find the same maid Elizabeth and Georgiana had met during their earlier visit.
At last, fortune seemed to favour them, for it was indeed she who opened the door, the same frightened expression in her eyes.
Despite her protests, they entered the parlour, where the furniture lay shrouded beneath white dust sheets.
Each of them pulled one aside to uncover a sofa or armchair.
The unfortunate maid stood petrified, her eyes moving from one face to another as though hoping someone would come to her aid.
Yet no one in the room was inclined to pity her.
“What is your name, miss?” Mr Bennet asked in a gentler voice.
“Sally,” she whispered fearfully.
“Well, Sally,” Mr Bennet continued in the same tone, “we need to know whether her ladyship’s nephew, Mr Darcy, was here last week. And this time you must answer, unlike the last time these two ladies came to see you.”
At the same moment, the colonel left the room without a word. Sally made as though to follow him, then quickly thought better of it. After all, he was her ladyship’s nephew.
“So, Sally, once again we ask you: was Mr Darcy here last week?” This time it was Mr Bingley who spoke, with an unusual harshness in his normally gentle voice.
“Her ladyship will dismiss me, and I shall never find another position in a respectable house. I shall never work in London again.”
Elizabeth and Georgiana rose together, both determined to reassure the girl. This time, however, it was Georgiana who spoke.
“Just tell us what we wish to know, and I shall employ you here in London or at Pemberley…for as long as you wish. You will never need a recommendation, and my brother will reward you when he returns.”
At those words the colonel returned to the parlour. He was as white as a linen handkerchief and held a cravat pin. Elizabeth and Georgiana sank back into their chairs in shock. Even before he spoke, it was obvious what he had found.
He walked straight to the maid and, holding out the pin, said in a gruff voice, “Mr Darcy was here. This is his cravat pin, is it not?”
He handed it to Parker, who said faintly, “Yes…it is indeed my master’s pin, the one he was wearing on the morning he left the house for the last time.”
The little maid nodded.
“Yes. He was here.”
Relief swept through the room. It was the first tangible result in a week. After so many dead ends and wasted days, they finally knew that Darcy had reached his appointment and, most probably, had left with Lady Catherine and her party. There could now be little doubt of it.
“Did Mr Darcy leave with Lady Catherine?” Mr Bennet asked.
Again the maid hesitated.
“Please, Sally,” Elizabeth pleaded, “we have very little time.”
“I did not see him leave, miss. During those days we were not allowed upstairs. Lady Catherine always travels with members of her household from Rosings. Her ladyship’s maid instructed us to remain in the kitchen whilst they departed.”
“Was Mr Collins among them?” Charlotte asked anxiously.
The maid looked uncertain.
“Please tell me,” Charlotte said again, still hoping against the evidence that her husband had not been involved.
“There was a gentleman I did not know. Perhaps he is the one you mean.”
With a trembling voice, Charlotte described her husband. The maid nodded, then fell silent once more.
“He was there,” Charlotte whispered in despair.
A profound silence settled over the room. None of them could believe that such a drama had unfolded only three streets from Darcy’s own house.
“Only one reason could have prevented my cousin from sending word to his sister for an entire week,” the colonel said.
“He was prevented.”
He turned sharply towards the maid.
“Whose rooms are on the first floor, to the left?”
The maid kept her eyes fixed upon the floor, unable to meet anyone’s gaze.
“Miss Anne’s rooms,” she whispered.
Elizabeth buried her face in her hands, unable to endure the thought. During the past week she had prepared herself for every imaginable horror, but never once had she considered that Darcy might leave her for another woman.
As he had done a few days earlier, Parker asked permission to speak, though this time he addressed Elizabeth alone.
“I know what you are thinking, madam. Forgive me for speaking, but now, above all times, we must keep faith in my master, for he is not here to defend himself.”
The discourse might have seemed inappropriate for a valet. Still, his words revealed not only his devotion but his profound knowledge of his master’s character, inclinations, and even his intimate feelings. He looked to the colonel for support, and the approval came readily.
“You are right, Parker. He is being kept somewhere, and I now have a much clearer idea both where and why.”
They left the gloomy house in haste, every one of them affected by the oppressive atmosphere. It was still difficult to believe that Lady Catherine could have played any part in Darcy’s disappearance. They searched for an explanation, but the answers awaited them at Rosings.
“He is alive. That is what matters most,” Elizabeth said as they stood upon the steps before climbing into the carriage.
For the first time during that dreadful week, she felt a measure of relief. Each of them sensed they were nearing the truth, eager to bring that terrible ordeal to an end, yet fearing an outcome none of them could foresee.
“Let us make no assumptions,” the colonel ordered, and they readily agreed. “I intend to sleep all the way to Rosings.”
He climbed into one carriage with Bingley, whilst the ladies travelled with Mr Bennet.
Everything would soon be explained or resolved, yet there was no certainty that the ending would prove a happy one for them all.
Darcy was alive, yet the cravat pin found in Anne’s room gave Elizabeth a new cause for anxiety.
Until then she had feared only that he might never be found or that he was dead, dreadful thoughts that had made her believe her own life would end with his.
She had never imagined it might end with him marrying another woman, willingly or otherwise.
As Parker had said a few nights earlier, if Darcy had truly decided not to marry her, he would have found an honourable way to release her from their engagement.
Yet by disappearing he had wounded not only Elizabeth but Georgiana as well, something he would never willingly have done.
She forced herself to look out of the window, trying not to give way to darker thoughts. Whatever the future might hold, she was determined to find him.
“During these hours of travelling we must all rest,” Elizabeth said. “There will be much to do once we reach Hunsford. I am certain we shall not wait until morning before going to Rosings. We have already lost far too much time.”
The countryside was clothed in its full autumn glory.
Rich reds and glowing golds completed a landscape of perfect beauty.
Elizabeth had been so consumed by grief, so absorbed in her own thoughts, that during the past few days she had scarcely looked beyond the carriage window.
Even the sky, glowing with autumn colours, seemed arranged especially to remind her to be patient, to keep faith, and above all to trust Darcy and their destiny.
She fell asleep, a dreamless sleep that seemed to last only a few moments, until voices outside announced that they had arrived.