Before I fell into bed, I learnt I had no letters from Fitzwilliam and that Georgiana had not yet arrived but was expected to do so the following day. And certainly I slept, but predictably with an inconvenient restlessness that is common to exhaustion.
Miss Elizabeth Bennet and I were not the only victims of the weather. The initiation of social activities had been delayed by weeks. Members of Parliament had braved the roads to convene as always, but weeks later, most of their families had only just begun to arrive in town. My sister, least anxious of anyone to partake of every last opportunity on offer, had taken advantage of this reprieve and arrived on the second day after my return to London.
On the fourth day, Carsten arrived with my trunks, having travelled in my coach with my team of Belgians, driven by my own coachman. With little of the indifference expected of a gentleman, I rushed out to greet them on the street.
“You took your time,” I called laughingly up to the box.
“Aye, Mr Darcy. We have had a right old holiday, sir.”
“I see Windsor is still standing. And the team has managed. And Tinder?”
“He must not have been truly lame, only footsore, as they say. I nursed them along, and we never went more than ten miles in a day.”
“On the main road?”
“Aye. The rains have eased a bit in Kent.”
“And you?” I asked, shaking Carsten’s hand out of relief to see him again. “How did you fare?”
“It was Mr Carsten as come back for me, sir,” Keller said, “and together we went back to retrieve your coach and the boys.”
“I assume you did well,” I said, acknowledging the footman and groom by speaking directly to them, “since the coach has been salvaged.” And then more generally, I said, “Well done, all of you. You are due for a rest, and you should take it. If I have need of a coach and horses this week, I can use my sister’s.”
“And the lady, sir?” Keller asked.
“She was safely with her family in as short a time as could be managed. But carry on. I am keeping the horses standing.”
As I went up to the parlour, a deep blue melancholy fell upon me. With the delivery of Elizabeth Bennet’s trunk, the book would be closed on my association with her.
“What has happened?” Georgiana asked when I came into the room. I suppose she had been standing at the window watching the street. It would have been odd indeed for her to see me commiserating with my people in such circumstances.
“Did I not tell you? We became hopelessly mired on our way home from Kent and suffered so many obstacles as to lead us to believe we had earned our bad luck from our past misdeeds. The team was split up, the coach and grooms stayed behind, and out of necessity, we ended in northern Kent where there is not a decent coach-and-four to be had. I was forced to go on without either Keller or Carsten because of it. And would you believe it?I ended astride an unfortunate and underfed hack the last eight miles. I did not get home until ten o’clock that night.”
“My goodness!”
“I am relieved it has ended as well as it has. But Georgie, might you do me a favour?”
With some discomfort, I managed to explain the lie I had been asked to tell. We had taken up Miss Elizabeth Bennet’s trunk, left by accident at a posting house, and having become acquainted with her at Rosings Park, I did not think I should have it sent as though I did not know her. Would she go with me?
“She is Mr Collins’s cousin,” I said encouragingly. “A kind and open sort of person. Her uncle is in trade, but her father is a gentleman.”
Georgiana agreed to go, perhaps more willingly because I had made clear we were not visiting a fashionable lady. She did not like being judged and measured by her competitors, I think, and I did not blame her.
I sent a note to the address in Cheapside, and the next morning we called on Mr and Mrs Gardiner, who proved to be pleasantly agreeable in both their manners and intelligence. Though willing to meet anyone for the sake of seeing Miss Elizabeth one more time, this had been a relief to me since I had been to Longbourn and had been braced for much worse.
“I still do not quite know how you managed to discover my niece’s trunk,” Mr Gardiner said, forcing me to speak when I would rather have remained silent on the subject.
“My valet noticed it, sir, for he was at hand when Miss Bennet was seen away with fresh horses. The press of people had been worrisome, you see, and being slightly acquainted, we were alert on her behalf. I am sorry for the delay in returning it, but I myself was then forced to leave behind my coach and luggage, as well as my team. I made my way regardless, but it was not ideal.”
“I am very grateful you met my niece as you did, Mr Darcy. I was remiss in not going myself to retrieve her from Hunsford when I first became concerned about the state of the roads.”
“But I do not know why you would think to do so, Uncle,” Miss Elizabeth said. “I have come down from Meryton many times, rain or shine, and returned home just as many. We cannot always spare ourselves the risks of some slight trouble when travelling.”
“I myself came from Derbyshire just this week,” my sister interjected meekly.
“You see? Even Miss Darcy travels independently, sir,” she said, beaming her approval at Georgiana. And then for the first time, our eyes met and she also smiled at me, though now, only tentatively. “My only quibble is that Mr Darcy has brought my trunk so soon. Could you not have waited another handful of days, sir?”
“Lizzy, what nonsense,” Mrs Gardiner said with an easy laugh.
