Good Men are Scarce: Pride & Prejudice variation by Elin Eriksen

Author:Elin Eriksen [Eriksen, Elin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-11-20T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11 The Holy Bonds of Matrimony

Elizabeth had trouble sleeping. Not because she had embarrassed herself in front of her father but because Mr Darcy was asleep on the floor below and was probably tossing and turning just as much as she.

Would a brief visit be terribly scandalous?

They were engaged after all.

Should she go, just to ascertain that her betrothed was well and maybe send for a glass of milk if he was not?

Once the thought had entered her mind, it was a lost cause. The pull was too strong. Elizabeth was as quiet as a mouse when she opened the servants’ door and slunk down the dark, narrow stairs. They creaked and sighed under her weight. Her heart threatened to pound its way out of her chest by the time she reached her destination. With trembling hands, she lifted the latch and slipped into the moonlit room.

It took her a minute to grasp the significance of the vacant bed. She scrutinised every nook and cranny of the smallish room, yet no Mr Darcy magically appeared before her eyes. Her racing heart beat even faster, and a sense of dread robbed her of every rational thought.

Can the French have taken him?

No! There are no signs of a struggle. They must have lured him out by pretence.

Knowing something about Mr Darcy’s dutiful nature, even the smallest sound would have induced him to investigate. Elizabeth walked out of the kitchen door with no thought for her delicate slippers.

The road to Meryton was an unlikely choice because of the risk of running into people. Likewise was the direction of Netherfield improbable. It led to nothing but the Bingleys’ house. Therefore, she chose the opposite route that wound through a dense woodland that would protect the nefarious French from detection.

Elizabeth walked aimlessly along an overgrown path, stopping ever so often to listen for unfamiliar sounds, but she only heard rustling leaves and the hooting of a distant owl.

The wood opened up into a meadow of wildflowers. The moonlight glittered in the dewy grass when a twig snapped. The sound came from the trees just opposite, but Elizabeth had nowhere to hide and dropped to the ground.

Minutes ticked by where the only sound she could hear was the frantic beating of her heart, making it impossible to gauge whether someone was coming or not.

Elizabeth pondered whether it was best to remain ignorant or whether she was better served knowing what was approaching. She raised her head to survey the direction of the sound.

In the light of the moon a silhouette was approaching. He walked slightly hunched with his open coat billowing in the breeze. Her stomach dropped. There was nothing stately about him, but her heart sang that it was Mr Darcy. She leapt to her feet and ran towards him; they united in the middle of the meadow. In the dim light, she ran her hands over his face to feel whether he had any newly acquired injuries. Finding none she continued roaming his attire.

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