By the time the room was lit, Mr. Tilney had come to join them. “Oh, good, Darcy, you are here. This suite is unique in the castle; it has three rooms connecting to the shared parlor. Alleight of us might stay in here, and safely keep to ourselves until we have sorted it all out.”
“Eight people in three rooms?” Emma furrowed her brow skeptically. “And you gentlemen, in her with us?”
“It shall make me feel much safer,” Cathy said with a blushing glance at Mr. Tilney.
“If Darcy will help me fetch the mattress from the room across the hall, we can place it in one of the rooms, and the four young ladies can all share. Darcy and I shall share a room, and…”
He trailed off, but nodded in the direction of Lady Allen and Sir Edward.
Cathy peered into one of the bedrooms. “This one is rather small.”
“So is this one,” Lady Allen said, looking into another.
“Aye,” Sir Edward agreed. “I have a better notion. Lady Allen can share with two of the girls, and the other two in another room, you and Darcy in the third. I will sleep on the sofa here in the parlor.” He gave the two gentlemen a stern look, as if warning them that he should know of any shenanigans, if the gentlemen tried to meddle with his girls.
“Let them at least bring a mattress for you, Edward,” Lady Allen tutted. The two gentlemen agreed and left the room to oblige her at once.
Elizabeth peered around the small parlor they had all assembled in; they would have to disperse in order for a mattress to fit, and she surveyed her companions, hoping they would decide for her where she ought to go. She was exhausted, and cared not where she laid her head, so long as it was soon.
“Cathy, Miss Bennet – may I call you Lizzy? You two share with me, and Emma can go with Harriet,” Lady Allen said.
Harriet and Emma agreed at once, and were the first to retreat after bidding the others goodnight. Emma lit a candle from the fireplace, and Lady Allen did the same before leading her two charges into the middle bedroom. “I suppose we shall not bother the servants; I think Mr. Tilney wishes it to be a secret that we are here,” she said, and so they helped one another dress for bed.
When they heard the sounds of the gentlemen returning with the mattress for Sir Edward, Lady Allen looked at their bed and frowned. “Oh dear, we shall be very snug indeed. I wonder if we shall all fit!”
“Should one of us go join Emma and Harriet?” Cathy looked skeptically at Elizabeth.
“Oh, I daresay their bed is just as small. Two people is quite enough for any mattress….” Lady Allen glanced at the door, and Elizabeth could tell what the woman was thinking.
She nodded. “I suppose you know best. I would not argue with a little more space to sleep.”
Lady Allen smiled and opened the door. Mr. Tilney was retreating to the third bedroom as Sir Edward settled himself on the mattress not far from the fireplace. Mr. Darcy was still in the parlor, and looked toward the doorway as Lady Allen crept out. He raised an eyebrow as he understood her intentions and then met Elizabeth’s eye.
Perhaps she was too tired to be modest, for she did not draw her dressing gown about herself as she had done last time he had seen her in her bed clothes that very morning, though it felt like an age since then. Instead she stepped toward the doorway, and he did the same. They were some distance from the firelight, and he came to stand before her.
“Good night, Mr. Darcy,” she said softly.
He took her hand in his and brought it up to his lips for the second time that day. This time, her hand was bare, and the touch of his lips lingered on her skin. “Good night, Elizabeth,” he whispered.
She smiled up at him, not sure whether or not to be relieved that in the darkness he might not see the broad smile on her face. She tightened her fingers around his for a moment, savoring the feel of her name spoken in his husky voice, though she ought to reproach him for it. “I shall feel very safe indeed, with so many gentlemen at hand to protect us.”
He silently placed her hand against his heart, his own hand resting atop hers for a moment before he moved away. When he had gone, Elizabeth closed the door and turned around to lean against it. Across the room, Cathy was sitting up in the bed, grinning at her.
Elizabeth blew out the candle at once. “Tease me tomorrow, Cathy; I am exhausted.”
Cathy hummed an ominous tune and laughed, but began to make herself cozy in the bed. There was no window in this room, and Elizabeth was obliged to feel her way in the darkness. When her hand brushed over the now-familiar wool of Mr. Darcy’s coat, she impulsively picked it up and carried it to the bed with her. Positioning herself with her back to her sister, Elizabeth clung to the coat, nestling herself against it and letting out a sigh at the soft pillow that cradled her muddled head. She could not make sense of anything at all, but she did indeed feel utterly safe.
Chapter Ten
Elizabeth awoke disoriented in the windowless dark of the room she shared with Cathy. She had not brought a dressing gown with her from her old chambers, so she wrapped Mr. Darcy’s coat around herself and flinched as her stockinged feet met the cold stone floor. She padded out of her room, and was met with the bright white light of another rainy morning. Sir Edward and Lady Allen were still asleep on the mattress by the fire, which had long since died out.
Mr. Darcy stood by the window, staring out at the gray storm clouds that seemed to cling to the dying leaves on the distant treetops. He had slept in his clothes, and though rumpled and weary, his usually brooding appearance had not suffered. Elizabeth doubted the same could be said of her, for her hair was a fright and she felt ridiculous to be wearing his coat again.
Nonetheless, she went to the window and stood beside him. There was frost on the narrow glass panes, and when she glanced down at the moat a dozen feet below them, there was ice along the far banks. Thick mist clung to the orange and brown brush beyond, but a break in the gray clouds at the horizon revealed a small patch of brilliant sunrise. It was strangely serene.
Elizabeth reached her hand out just enough that it brushed against Mr. Darcy’s and she willed herself to hold it there. After a moment, he silently laced his fingers with hers.She drew in a slow, contended breath. She told herself that she needed the comfort, that what happened amidst the madness at Clwyd Castle had little to do with real life, that it mattered not how well she liked holding Mr. Darcy’s hand.
“What hour is it?”
