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“What do you remember?” he asked in a hushed tone.
She stared at the pendant in the palm of her hand. “Everything.”
Chapter Fifteen
Darcy’s heart clenched.
“The cross was a present from my aunt and uncle Gardiner for my nineteenth birthday. Uncle Gardiner bought it on one of his trips. Jane has one with garnets….” She fell silent, her eyes open but not seeing anything around them.
“Everything…except…” Her brows drew together. “Except I do not remember meeting your friend Mr. Bingley…or you…or visiting—what was the name of the place? Rosings Park.” Under the brim of her hat, her free hand massaged her forehead. “What is the year?”
“1812.” He was squeezing the reins with unnecessary force and fought to relax his hands.
She shook her head in bewilderment. “I recall the summer of 1811, but nothing after. How strange! Everything…except for the last year.”
Darcy had been granted a reprieve, but she had recalled so much in such a short time. The memories of the previous year could not be too far out of reach.
And why should she recall everything except the past year? Would she prefer to forget any part of her life that concerned Fitzwilliam Darcy? The breakfast he had consumed less than an hour ago sat like a lump of lead in his stomach. “Those memories will return soon, no doubt.” He strove to keep his tone hopeful, but he feared it sounded discouraged.
“Yes,” she said faintly.
As the traffic lightened, Darcy urged the horse to greater speed. But the wagon was an unwieldy vehicle and simply would not allow a decent pace.
After a long pause he ventured a new subject of conversation. “I had hoped to reach Gravelines today, but I fear this pace will have us on the road another day.”
“Yes,” Elizabeth said absently, tucking the cross into her pocket.
Just let us reach England before she remembers all, he prayed fervently. If she discovered his lies before they departed France, he could not predict the results. Darcy winced as he recalled her words at Hunsford parsonage. When she learned the truth—however she learned the truth—no doubt she would have some cutting words for him. He could only hope she confined herself to words and did not decide to separate herself from him before they reached home.
They traveled in silence past fields of wheat and isolated farmhouses. Elizabeth stayed absorbed in her own thoughts, unaware of the scenery. Finally, she remarked, “Yesterday I felt as if my life were a book that was only half-finished. This morning I have been granted access to several more chapters—but not the ending.”
“There is no ending,” Darcy observed. “You are still writing the book.”
Elizabeth squinted in the bright sunlight. “Ha! I suppose you have the way of it. Still, I would give much to recall the past year. I worry that something dreadful has occurred, and my mind is suppressing the memory.”
Darcy clenched the reins more tightly. Could I be something dreadful? Could I have caused her to suppress her memories? “I know of no tragedy that befell your family in the past year,” he said.
Elizabeth bit her lip. “But what of my friends? Charlotte Lucas has been my good friend for my entire life.”
“She lives in Kent now,” Darcy said absently as he steered the horse around a hole in the road.
“Kent?”
Darcy cursed himself silently. He could not relate to Elizabeth most of the events of the past year; it would inevitably lead to a revelation of the true state of affairs between them. “Yes, she is now wed to a Mr. Collins who is a parson in Hunsford parish.”
What may I tell her of her friend’s life that would not reveal too much? Certainly I can say nothing about Aunt Catherine. “They live in a cozy parsonage near the grand estate of his patroness.” Too late, Darcy remembered that Collins was her cousin; would that provoke additional recollections?
“Mr. Collins?” she said. “I do not believe I know him.”
Darcy breathed a sigh of relief. Apparently her acquaintance with her cousin was recent.
“But everyone in my family is well?” she asked, looking for reassurance.
“Everyone in your family enjoys the best of health.”
“And the Gardiners?”
“The Gardiners?”
