Elizabeth sat on the edge of the bed staring at nothing. She had washed her face repeatedly, scrubbing it with a piece of linen until her skin felt raw beneath her fingertips. She had stared into the small looking glass, there was no mark upon her, no trace of what had happened beyond the memory itself, but she still felt dirty, tainted somehow.
Every time she closed her eyes she felt it again. Not merely Captain Henderson's hand upon her wrist or the brutal pressure of his mouth against hers, but the dreadful moment in which she had simply frozen. She had always imagined that, if ever she were threatened, she would slap the offender soundly or deliver some cutting remark that would send him slinking away in disgrace. Instead she had stood there, unable to think or move or fight. The thought filled her with humiliation.
She rose abruptly and crossed to the window. The inn yard below had begun to empty now that the roads were opening once more. A coach lumbered slowly beneath the archway, piled high with trunks and hatboxes, whilst Mrs Goose stood upon thestep pressing parcels of food into travellers' hands. Stable boys hurried to and fro with harnesses slung over their shoulders and, somewhere beyond the yard, somebody laughed raucously. Life was moving forward with cheerful determination.
A quiet knock sounded at the door.
"Come in."
Martha appeared, carrying a fresh pitcher of water. "I've brought this for you, ma'am."
Elizabeth managed what she hoped resembled a smile. "Thank you, Martha"
The girl hesitated, plainly sensing that something was amiss but not quite understanding what it was. She set down the pitcher and cleared her throat. "Mrs Goose says there's seed cake just come from the oven, if you'd fancy a piece."
"No... no, thank you."
Elizabeth remained exactly where she was until the sound of the girl's footsteps had faded entirely. Then the smile she had summoned with such effort disappeared, leaving her feeling hollow.. Burke's words returned to her over and over again.This was not your doing.He had spoken with absolute conviction but the words rang hollow in her mind.
Another voice had begun its work, quieter than Burke's but more difficult to silence. It reminded her that no respectableyoung woman found herself sharing a gentleman's room, however unavoidable the circumstances. No respectable young woman invited him into her bed, however innocent her intentions. No respectable young woman kissed him before he had so much as declared himself. Captain Henderson had spoken coarsely and cruelly. But strip away his vulgarity, and what remained? Had he not simply seen her as the rest of the world inevitably would?
What’s more, Darcy had warned him. He had outright warned her about the danger Captain Henderson represented. And she had responded with bitterness and anger.
She knew this way of thinking was unjust. Somewhere, beneath the confusion and shame, she knew Burke had been right. But she found herself unable to separate Henderson's cruelty from her own conduct. Everything that had seemed so natural in Darcy's company the night before now appeared reckless, tainted, as though it had happened to another Elizabeth altogether.
Only an hour before she had crossed the courtyard smiling like the greatest simpleton in England because he had smiled at her first. She had imagined—what? That they might steal another conversation? Another walk? Another kiss? The memory of the previous night ought to have filled her with happiness. She could still remember how safe she had felt in his arms, how carefullyhe had held her, as though afraid even in sleep that he might cause her discomfort. Now she could not bear the thought of him touching her.
She pressed her fingertips hard against her eyes. "Oh, what have I done?" she whispered into the empty room.
Another quiet knock sounded at the door.
Elizabeth started violently. She felt unequal to anyone who might be on the other side. For one desperate instant she considered remaining silent. If she gave no answer perhaps whoever stood outside would think she slept or had gone downstairs and leave her to the solitude she so badly desired.
The knock came again, patient rather than insistent.
"Miss Bennet?"
Even through the heavy oak door she recognised Darcy's low, gentle tones. Only an hour earlier the sound of it would have sent her hurrying across the room to him. Now it filled her with such mingled relief and dread that she had to steady herself against the bedpost before trusting her voice.
"Come in."
The latch turned with a soft click and Darcy stepped into the room, removing his hat and almost bounding across to her. The brightness she had seen in his face across the courtyard had not diminished. There was something boyish about him thismorning, as though he carried within him news too welcome to keep to himself for a moment longer. The sight of him struck Elizabeth like a blow. It seemed impossible that the same morning could contain both the memory of his tenderness and the ugliness of what had followed.
"I hope I do not intrude," he said, stepping before her. "Mrs Goose told me you had come upstairs, and I wished to find you before..." He stopped, smiling to himself. "Forgive me. I am making a dreadful business of it. I have something to tell you."
Elizabeth clasped her hands together to prevent him seeing that they trembled. "What is it?"
"It concerns the Frosts."
For a moment every other thought disappeared. "You have heard from them?"
"I have." His smile broadened, warmed by the relief he knew the news would bring her. "Thomas returned not half an hour ago. He found them yesterday evening at a farm beyond Barley Cross. When the road became impassable Mr Frost managed to find shelter with a local family until the flood subsided. All is well"
Elizabeth pressed one hand against her mouth. She had imagined so many dreadful possibilities over the past days that it took a few moments for the relief to settle in her mind.
"They are safe?"
"Entirely safe. Thomas said they were anxious only that you should know they had not abandoned you."
