Page 6 of Bella Darcy is on the Run

Eventually, she came to St John Street, a wide cobbled street lined with tall brick buildings, many of which appeared to be shopfronts. Ahead of her, a great painted sign stretched across the road. It read: The Green Man. Beneath it stood a three-storey red-brick building with an archway leading into a yard. It was already bustling with activity, and she dismounted and released her skirts, suddenly conscious that she was riding in a style most people would find very improper for a gently bred young lady. She walked Tempest into the yard, affecting her best Darcy hauteur and trying to act as if arriving at a coaching inn alone was not the least bit out of the ordinary. Beneath her riding habit, her knees wobbled.

"Sir," she said in a loud, imperious voice, causing a man rushing across the yard to start and turn to her.

His eyes flicked from Tempest to her, and he pulled off his hat, twisting it in his hands. "Yes, miss?"

"See to my horse, and I shall require a post-chaise and team to be made available as soon as possible."

"Shall I speak to your groom, miss?" he said, his head swivelling back and forth in mild panic. "Or your father... husband?" he tried, leaning to one side to peer around her. He clearly was not used to conducting business with elegant young women.

"I was travelling with my maid in my father's carriage," she said, repeating the words she had been rehearsing to herself since leaving Pemberley. "She became very ill, and I asked my driver to return with her while I arrange for urgent onward travel."

"You are travelling alone?" He looked scandalised.

Bella swallowed hard. This did not bode well. If the ostler thought this was an unacceptable breach of propriety, what chance did she have? She tried very hard not to let the uncertainty she felt show on her face.

"See to it," she said, turning towards the inn entrance. "I must speak to your mistress about procuring a new maid post-haste." She sniffed and added in a put-upon tone, "Hopefully one made of sturdier stuff this time." Then, striking what she hoped was not too theatrical a pose, she pointed her nose in the air and stalked away.

The room she entered was large and well-appointed and smelt pleasantly of beeswax. There was a small polished counter in one corner, and the rest of the space was taken up by neatly arranged tables and chairs with snowy tablecloths, while a broad fireplace dominated the far wall. Two doors flanked the fireplace, and suddenly she had no idea what to do. Should she wander the hotel in search of the proprietor? Stand here and wait to be discovered? She realised with horror that there was always someone to make these small ordinary decisions for her, her father or a servant or her mother. Bella simply stood there while others made things happen around her. It was humiliating.

Before she could come to the point, a small but sturdy woman in a neat cotton day dress and pristine white apron came out of the far door. Her hair was pulled back severely into a low chignon, and she was clearly surprised to find Bella there. The older woman covered her shock quickly and smiled warmly at her. "Now then, miss, have you lost your party? Breakfast is served in the back parlour if you will follow me."

"No, I have no party," said Bella too quickly.

The woman looked at her strangely, worry creasing her forehead. "No party indeed, miss. Is all well?" She attempted to guide her to a chair.

"I am perfectly well," said Bella, taking a step away and slipping back into the Darcy hauteur. "I was a... erm, guest at Pemberley and am travelling to the south coast to see a relative who is most in need of me. My maid became gravely unwell just as we reached the outskirts of Ashbourne, and as I was riding, I sent her back to Pemberley with my driver. I need to arrange a post-chaise and team urgently, and I wonder if there is a girl here whom I might press into service as my maid."

"Well, this is most unusual, Miss..." She left a small pause for Bella to fill.

"Bennet," she said firmly. To travel under Darcy would be far too dangerous, and she thought it unlikely anyone in Ashbourne would know her mother's maiden name.

"Miss Bennet," the woman repeated, still looking doubtful. "I am Mrs Saxon. I run this establishment alongside my husband. I do not doubt your circumstances are pressing, but a young lady travelling alone is not something we often see. Still, if you are determined to continue, I can have a chaise made ready. As for a maid..." She pursed her lips. "I may have one girl who would be willing, though I must warn you, she is a little... spirited."

Bella was far too relieved to worry about the hesitation on Mrs Saxon's part. "I appreciate your help, Mrs Saxon, and I am willing to compensate the girl and yourself generously for her assistance."

"Very well. Please take a seat while I make the arrangements and fetch Clara. Can I offer you some tea?"

Bella perched on the edge of a chair and shook her head. "No, thank you, Mrs Saxon. I must be on my way as soon as possible. Can you also ensure the horse I arrived on is returned to the Pemberley stables? The Darcys were kind enough to provide me with a mount for the journey. I prefer not to be cooped up in a carriage when I can ride. Unfortunately, I have a long journey ahead of me and must be on the road as soon as possible. My own carriage will meet me at the next inn, once my maid has recovered or been left in suitable care."

Mrs Saxon gave her another long look, and Bella met her gaze firmly. It was essential she did not waver now. The lady must think her rich and eccentric, but not entirely improper or engaged in some sort of mischief.

"Perhaps I should send a note to Pemberley, and they can send someone to accompany you," the older lady said thoughtfully.

"Not at all. I must be on my way, and they will hear the tale from my driver soon enough," Bella said sternly, her heart racing.

"Very well. I shall send Clara in and see about the post-chaise and a driver."

Mrs Saxon left the room, and Bella felt herself crumple into the seat. She was but twenty miles from home and had hundreds of miles ahead of her. If she could not handle a straightforward interaction with a sensible and pleasant woman, how would she make it any further? Her knees still trembled beneath her dress, and she concentrated on taking long, even breaths as the minutes ticked by.

She had almost recovered herself when a girl of about her own age burst into the room.

"Miss," she said, giving a very lopsided curtsey and grinning at Bella in a manner that would have sent their housekeeper at Pemberley, Mrs Reynolds, into an apoplexy. Servants should rarely look an employer directly in the eye, never mind grin at them as if they were old friends. She had red hair so bright that Bella felt it must have been visible in the dark, round green eyes and a heart-shaped face that was more freckle than not.

"How do you do, miss?" she said. "I be hearin' that you are looking for someone to accompany you on your travels. And I am just the girl for you. I be grand at all the hair dressin' and the regular dressin'. And my ma always said I could talk for England, so you won't ever be bored. You are a pretty one, ain't you? I bet all the young gentlemen be looking your way. And I know all about young gentlemen and not-so-gentlemen, if you get my meaning, miss."

Bella was struck dumb by the rapidity and volume of words that came out of the girl's mouth. When she winked at Bella, she was not sure whether to laugh or chastise her for being so forward.

"And what experience do you have that prepares you for the role of travelling companion and maid?" Bella said, trying to keep her expression sombre. "Clara, is it?"