Page 7 of Bella Darcy is on the Run

"That it be, miss. Well, I used to work in a house with lots of ladies, and I was always the best at knowing what suited folk and what did not. I was in great demand for my skill at dressin’ hair too. Since I've been at the Green Man, I've helped a lot o' ladies understand what suits them. Some of them may not be open to such observations, but there ain't no hiding from the truth. Are we going anywhere interestin', miss?"

Bella ignored the question. "You are not from Derbyshire," she said thoughtfully.

"Bristol, miss, born and bred, although my mammy was Irish, God rest her, and my da, well, he could have been from the moon for all I know about him. I worked there in a large establishment before I came here. Mrs Saxon has been very nice an’ all, but she says that I am 'not backward about comin' forward' and that the snooty types she gets in here don't care for it." Her rosebud mouth formed into a perfect O, as if realising for the first time that Bella might indeed fall under the heading of snooty types. "Beggin' your pardon, of course, miss. But I should like to see a bit more of the world, and my mammy always said that any travel was an adventure."

Bella threw back her head and laughed. She laughed so hard that a tiny snort escaped, and she quickly covered her mouth with her gloved hand. "Clara, the position is yours. I believe we shall get on famously."

Chapter Five

Fitzwilliam Darcy stopped in the doorway to his chambers and looked back at his sleeping wife. She had reached out to claim the warm patch he had left behind and was now sprawled across the large bed on her front, taking up more space than a woman of her small stature should rightfully have been able to occupy. Her dark auburn hair had escaped its braid and now lay spread across the pillow and over her bare back. His heart squeezed. The years together had not made his love for her any less. He still looked upon her every morning and thought himself the luckiest man in the world. She was the most wonderful, the most brave, the most outspoken woman he had ever known and he could imagine no one else standing by his side. She had also given him the greatest possible gift in three bright and beautiful daughters, filling Pemberley with the noise and light it had sorely lacked in the years before.

He wished to go back to bed, to gently brush her wild mass of hair aside and press kisses to her neck, to stroke her soft skin and show her just how much he loved her, but alas, he had a meeting with a tenant farmer that could not wait. He closed the door softly and headed downstairs and through a side door towards the stables.

A bleary-eyed Little John, the son of Darcy's stablemaster, was already shovelling hay, and Darcy asked him to prepare his stallion, Hector. The farm was some way from the estate proper, and he fancied a good gallop. Little John did as he was bid, although with much less urgency than Darcy knew the boy's father would have liked. The lad was a little dreamy, to be sure, but he knew his business and had time enough to grow into the role.

Darcy noticed that Bella's mare, Tempest, was gone from her stall and his brow creased. It was early for Bella to ride, although not unheard of. He hoped that she was not still feeling unsettled and upset. Their conversation the day prior had felt like a truce of sorts, and she had attended her lessons yesterday attentively, if very quietly. He told himself it did no good to imagine problems where there were none and strode out of the stables to await Hector.

Darcy mounted and took a route across the fields to the west of the estate, relishing the freshness of the early summer morning and the sight of crops beginning to grow in earnest. His own father had always said that this was the time of year when he felt Pemberley truly come to life, and the words echoed in Darcy's mind every time the season softened, despite the many years that had passed since George Darcy had last ridden these lands. His chest constricted, as it often did when he thought of his father and all that he had missed. How he would have doted on his granddaughters and Elizabeth.

"Well, I am certainly in a maudlin sort of mood," Darcy said to Hector, giving his stallion an affectionate pat on the neck. "Now, how about a little run?"

✽✽✽

Darcy's business finished quickly enough, and he was able to join his family at the breakfast table. He bent to kiss his wife's cheek, and Elizabeth immediately crinkled her nose.

"William, you smell of horse."

"That I do, my dear. Hector and I have had a good long run."

"Are you not very old for galloping, Papa?" said Mina earnestly.

He fought back a chuckle, bending to kiss first her cheek and then Kate's. "I am not ready for a bath chair just yet, my dear."

He sat and gratefully accepted a cup of coffee from a footman. Then he noticed Bella's empty chair, and his brow furrowed.

"Where is your sister?"

"She must still be abed," said Kate, not looking up from the book she had beside her plate.

"She is such a slug-a-bed," said Mina, spearing a mushroom with her fork. "Honestly, it is half past ten."

Darcy's stomach dropped. He looked towards Elizabeth, who immediately recognised the worry in his eyes.

"May I speak to you, my dear?" he said, trying to keep his voice light and pleasant, although it sounded strained even to his own ears.

"Come, William," she said, standing quickly and taking his arm as they strode from the room. After so many years of marriage, they were each intimately aware of the other's moods and feelings. Elizabeth gripped his forearm and asked in a low tone, "What has happened? Did you fight with Bella?"

"No, we did not fight. But Tempest was gone from the stables when I collected Hector at close to seven. If she has ridden out, she should have returned by now."

Elizabeth did not answer. She turned and made for the main staircase, lifting her skirts and moving so quickly that it took Darcy some effort to catch her.

"Elizabeth, I am sure it is nothing. She is probably reading somewhere and has lost track of the time."

Elizabeth said nothing. She simply kept moving until she reached Bella's room and pushed open the door without knocking. Marie was standing beside the wardrobe, laying out one of Bella's dresses. She startled at their sudden entrance and immediately dipped into a curtsey.

"Madame. Monsieur. Ah, but the young mademoiselles do need their beauty sleep, non? I was just preparing Mademoiselle Bella's clothes for when she wakes."

Elizabeth said nothing. She crossed the room and pulled back the bed curtains. The bed was empty. Darcy stared at it. The sheets were smooth and undisturbed, the pillows still neatly arranged. No one had slept there.