Chapter 15
Elizabeth was growing weary. The initial excitement of breaking free from her confinement, and the fear every time she heard someone on the road, had given her more strength and stamina than she usually had, but as the light began to fade and she still was not near enough to the farmhouse to see it, her steps were slowing.
Find somewhere safe to rest, she told herself.
The word safe seemed entirely at variance with sleeping outdoors; she had never in her life slept outside.
However, Elizabeth had read that there were no large, dangerous predators left in England, and the only animal she really had to fear was humans.
Battling the elements would not be necessary, since it was August; putting on her extra clothes should keep her reasonably warm in the early-morning chill.
She figured a good hiding spot, water, and courage were the only things she really needed.
Food would be nice, but she would not starve in a single night.
She made herself walk on and on towards her new goal—another outcropping of rocks with several tall trees and a variety of shrubs sprouting amongst the boulders. She hoped the vegetation indicated that there was a source of water.
When she looked quite close to the boulders, she felt a surge of energy, and she practically sprang up the slope.
And, indeed, she found what appeared to her to be Elysium: a spring bubbled up from the earth, creating a pool and a creek.
The pool was surrounded by a riot of wild plants, including blackberry brambles and elderberries hanging plump and dark over the waters.
Under the canopy of several species of trees was a huge patch of butterbur, with its enormous three-feet-wide leaves, and Elizabeth immediately knew where she could sleep in relative safety from discovery: under the blanket of butterbur leaves.
She drank from the spring, she ate berries, and she built a bed of butterbur leaves taken from the edges of the butterbur patch. As she tried to quiet her mind, hoping to not just rest, but sleep, she considered her plans for the next day.
So far, she had hid assiduously from people.
Only now did it occur to her that it was possible that, while she was hiding from her previous jailers and whoever had plotted to hold her captive, as well as from strange men who might do her harm or attempt to take her virtue—she was also hiding from would-be rescuers.
Because she knew for certain that her intended would not stop looking for her until they found one another again.
How could he possibly find out where to look? one sceptical part of her mind asked.
How could he possibly do a lot of things that he does, in fact, do? a rather smitten part of her mind sassed back. He’s Darcy; he manages to do a lot of difficult things.
His wealth could certainly hire helpers to spread out over the country in an effort to find me, a reasonable part of her mind argued.
You had better be findable. You do not truly wish to walk all the way to Gracechurch Street.
Elizabeth stopped arguing with herself—but only when she fell into an exhausted and restive sleep.