Darcy's Journey (15 page)

32

‘So, Mr Darcy, the mountain air is fresh,
no?’

Darcy suppressed a sigh, wearying of
Fraulein Edelmann’s continuous efforts to engage him in conversation.

‘Invigorating.’ He turned away to study
the road, now veering away from the River Eisack, which they had followed since
Bozen. They were climbing now, in a deep valley that rose steeply on the other
side of the river, but flattened on their side to a forested plain.

He glanced at Elizabeth, who was dozing
with a book open on her lap. There could be no doubt now of her recovery. She
was stronger, her skin glowed, and best of all, her lively charm was once more
in evidence. He pictured her in the Mercantile Court Hall taking on the challenge
of another concert, with much the same outcome. She shone in the silk dress,
now contrasting with her natural dark hair; her absorbed expression at the
pianoforte was captivating; she played calmly, unflustered by the occasional
slip. Nobody could upstage Fraulein Edelmann’s wonderful voice, but paired
together they were a feast for the eye as well as the ear, the vivacious
Englishwoman in cream-gold a perfect foil for the tall blonde Austrian in light
blue.

The applause, as before, had been
enthusiastic, with two encores in addition to several demands for
repeats—all graciously accepted. Moreover, to his relief, there had been
no unpleasant sequel. As a precaution he had asked Bloch and Reithoffer to stand
at the back of the hall and watch out for anyone behaving suspiciously. Fortunately
they performed the duty discreetly and even enjoyed the recital.

‘How far to Brixen?’ Fraulein Edelmann
asked.

‘We can rest the horses at a village half
an hour away. Brixen is one stage further on. We should be there by early evening.’

‘It is a fine old town with a long
cultural tradition.’ She flashed him a smile. ‘We could give another recital.’

‘I would prefer not to lose another
day.’

‘Yes, I know, you must hasten to
England.’ She sighed, then suddenly brightened. ‘But your tour has been so limited.
Why not come to Salzburg with me, and thence to Vienna? It will be safer too.
You can wait for the coalition armies to defeat Bonaparte and only then return
home.’

Darcy glanced again at Elizabeth, who
showed no sign of following the conversation. ‘I would be delighted one day to
visit Austria, especially Vienna. However …’ He broke off as there was a cry
from the driver, and Bloch rapped on the window.

‘Achtung!
Räuberbande!’

Fraulein Edelmann gasped. ‘Take care!
Brigands!’

As the carriage jerked to a halt,
Darcy unwrapped the pistol he had kept in readiness at his side, and buckled on
his sword.

‘What is happening?’ Elizabeth was awake,
looking frantically out of the window. ‘Was that a pistol shot?’

‘Stay inside and keep your heads down.’
Darcy opened the door and descended. The track was soft, with grassy verges and
thick pine forest on both sides. Peering into the blackness of the trees, he
saw no assailants. Ahead, Bloch and Reithoffer rode towards a bend where the
back of a carriage was just visible. Darcy exhaled with relief.
They
were not under attack. The Austrian guards had gone to the aid of another
party.

He called up to the manservants.
‘Burgess, you have your pistol? And a rifle? Help Gretchen inside, then stay
here and guard the women. I will return shortly.’

Darcy’s instincts were to remain behind
as well, but with the guards outnumbered it was his duty to join the fray. He
heard another exchange of pistol fire as one of the guards galloped at a band
of four or five men. The brigands scattered, and two of them ran back in Darcy’s
direction. He kneeled, took aim, and felled one of them with a shot to the leg.
The other ran alarmingly towards their own carriage, but veered off into the
trees on receiving a fusillade from Burgess and the other manservant.

A scrabbling noise alerted him to the
brigand he had shot, who was reaching for the butt of his rifle. Darcy kicked
at the grasping hand, sending the rifle spinning off into the undergrowth,
before drawing his sword. The brigand spread his arms submissively and stared
back, revealing a scarred weather-beaten complexion and tangled beard. He was
dressed to cut a dashing figure, with an embroidered vest over dark green tunic,
blue breeches, boots, and a conical feathered hat which had rolled off as he
fell.

Darcy removed a knife on the man’s belt
and threw it after the rifle. The brigand stayed down, grimacing as he explored
a dark stain on his breeches, just above the knee. Looking down the road, Darcy
acknowledged a thumbs-up from Burgess, then turned to see Reithoffer approaching,
still mounted, with his sabre drawn.

‘Bravo! Gut gemacht!’
Reithoffer
pointed at the injured brigand, then to the carriage that had been attacked.
‘Ein.
Zwei.’

‘You got one as well?’ Darcy asked in
Italian.

‘Ja.’

‘Watch him.’ He left the Austrian
soldier on guard and ran back to their own carriage, where Elizabeth was leaning
out of the window, talking to Burgess, while Fraulein Edelmann tended Gretchen.

‘You are well?’ Elizabeth cried.

‘Fine. It was bandits robbing the coach in
front. Two are down and the rest have fled. I must join the other party now, to
make sure they are safe.’

33

Her heart still thudding, Elizabeth
leaned out to watch as Darcy ran ahead. She noticed one of the Austrian guards trussing
a prisoner. Further along, the other guard roped a brigand to the back of a
coach. Darcy joined a fashionably-dressed gentleman who was helping servants repack
scattered valuables in a trunk. He turned, waved to her, and ran back.

‘Ladies, can you help? We have a Bavarian
family here travelling to Munich with a driver and two servants. The bandits
were searching their belongings when we intervened. Herr von Essen is clearing
up, but his wife Anja and their children are in distress …’

Fraulein Edelmann, busy bandaging
Gretchen’s leg, dismissed Elizabeth with a wave. ‘Go. I will follow.’

Darcy helped her descend. ‘What happened
to the maid?’

‘She landed awkwardly when getting down
from the carriage, and twisted her ankle.’

‘I told Burgess to help her down.’

‘He tried, but she panicked and jumped
before he was ready. Are the family hurt?’

‘The mother took a scratch.’ He opened
the side of the coach and Elizabeth saw a small plump woman in a plain blue
gown and cap studying her face in a hand-mirror, while two small children picked
pieces of coral from the floor. The woman stared at her as if she were a ghost
and spoke frantically in German.

Elizabeth took the seat opposite. ‘
Guten
Tag.
Fraulein Bennet. Do you understand English?’

‘Englisch? Nein.’

‘Italiano?’

The woman nodded, and pointed to her neck.
‘La collana …’

In fragments the story emerged. A bandit
had wanted Frau von Essen’s necklace. She was unfastening the clasp when there
was a cry that soldiers were approaching. The bandit had grabbed the necklace
and tugged, snapping the cord and showering the coach with coral. She pointed
to a line at her throat where the cord had rasped.

Elizabeth took her hand and examined the
wound. ‘It is grazed, but not deeply. There will be no scar. I have balm in my
reticule which may ease the discomfort.’

She found a small tub containing a
preparation made from lanolin and beeswax, and rubbed the pomade gently over
the folds of Frau von Essen’s throat.

‘Better?’

‘Ja. Danke.’

The effect might be negligible, but
merely receiving treatment calmed the woman down. Elizabeth pointed to the
children, who had been watching wide-eyed as she applied the cream. ‘Are they
well?’

It seemed to dawn on Frau von Essen that
she had been fussing over a trivial injury while ignoring her possibly
traumatised son and daughter. ‘Markus. Erika. Both seven years old.’

‘Twins!’ Elizabeth ruffled the boy’s
hair. ‘Look, you’ve collected all the pieces. The necklace will be good as
new.’

Erika inched closer and showed her a wooden
doll, ten inches long, with hair painted on the small head, and a tuck comb
carved on the crown. As Elizabeth helped her thread the arms though the sleeves
of an evening gown, she noticed that all the limbs were jointed.

‘Erika, what a lovely doll!’

The girl showed no sign of understanding
Italian, but Frau von Essen said, ‘Not Erika’s doll. A sample belonging to my
husband.’

‘He sells them?’

She nodded eagerly. ‘Traditional
Grodner
Tal
dolls from Bavaria. Wood, many sizes. We trade in Milan, and now return
to Munich.’

Elizabeth smiled, imagining the bandits’
confusion at encountering this unusual booty.

Two hours later, Elizabeth sat
opposite Darcy as they left the small town of Klausen. Ahead, in the other
carriage, Fraulein Edelmann had joined the von Essen family. The brigands had
been left at a
Gendarmerie
in Klausen, and a surgeon sent for.

‘What will happen to them?’ Elizabeth
asked.

Darcy shrugged. ‘If their injuries are
treated they will live to face trial. In Britain they would be hung or deported.
Here I assume they will be hung—or guillotined if French penalties are
still applied.’

Elizabeth nodded, appreciating that he
had answered her query without prevarication. ‘I was in such fear as you ran
towards the bandits.’

‘Luckily most of them dispersed as soon
as Bloch and Reithoffer rode into them.’

‘I suppose you had to shoot that man?’

‘He was armed, and running in the
direction of our carriage. If he had turned towards the forest I would have let
him go.’

Elizabeth glanced at Gretchen, whom
Fraulein Edelmann had left behind for chaperonage. The maid showed no sign of
following the conversation. ‘Much as I admire Hilda, it is a relief to be alone
with you again.’

He smiled. ‘Fraulein Edelmann has
certainly been talkative these last days.’

‘She obviously enjoys
your
company.’

‘I wish she would desist, but have tried
to be polite. After all, we owe our safety to her.’

‘But it must be flattering to be cajoled
by such a beautiful and talented woman. Only a general’s daughter, of course,
but we know how little you care about social rank. I am fully expecting you to abandon
me and follow the lovely Hilda to Salzburg.’

He hesitated, as if longing to
contradict her, but reluctant to submit to such overt manipulation. ‘Jealousy
does not become you.’

She looked down, flushing. ‘I’m not
jealous. I feel unworthy, that is all.’

He sighed. ‘I meant what I said at the
Castelvecchio
.’

She raised her eyes, preferring to keep
silence so that his words hung in the air. He was studying her eagerly, no
doubt hoping for a similar assurance from her. He had spoken truly;
had she?

Eventually, almost in tears, she said,
‘I am so afraid.’

‘Of what?’

‘Of my feelings. Of making a terrible
mistake.’

They both glanced at Gretchen, who was
looking out of the window and apparently paying no attention. Darcy leaned
forward, lowering his voice. ‘Let us be clear. Are you implying that you too
meant what you said?’

She looked away, unable to meet his eye,
and said in a strangled whisper, ‘Yes.’

He also looked away, and for a while
they remained silent. She wondered whether he too was loathe to disturb the echo
of her declaration. Certainly he had relaxed, and when he spoke, his voice had
a deeper resonance.

‘Elizabeth, if I may use your name,
please let me know what it is that you fear. If we truly love one another, why
may we not marry? Why do you fear a mistake?’

‘Because I have never felt this way in
my life. I understand now what it was that drove you, against all rationality,
to propose in Kent.’

He managed a smile. ‘Perhaps for both
our sakes that conversation is best forgotten.’

‘But do you not see?’ She faced him more
confidently, encouraged that they could talk openly. ‘Yes, our manners left
much to be desired, yet as we have both admitted,
almost everything we said
was true
. Not about Wickham, but the rest. You
were
proud and sometimes
inconsiderate when we first met in Hertfordshire. My family
is
a significant
obstacle. If you erred, it was on the side of generosity, in supposing that
Jane and I are so different from the others. The truth is that we were brought
up by an unworldly over-lenient father and foolish mother, with not even a
governess to teach us a modicum of good sense. Yes, I have learned to dance,
play, and sing to a moderate standard, and to bluff my way in society by an
impertinent brand of repartee that some people charitably mistake for wit. But
at root I am like Kitty, Lydia and the others: superficial and silly. All this,
I am convinced, you had already seen at the time.
In vain have I struggled.
My feelings will not be repressed.
What were you struggling against? The
rational conviction that I was not a suitable partner for a man in your
position. You were blinded by love—and apparently still are, the only
difference being that now I am blinded too.’

She was pleased that he thought for a
while, absorbing her meaning rather than issuing an immediate rebuttal.

‘So you are not concerned with the
disparity in our connections? Rather, you fear we are ill-suited as companions.
You think that once passion has faded, I will see you as you imagine yourself
to be—superficial and the rest—and lose respect for you.’

She smiled affectionately. ‘You say it
far better than I did.’

‘You are not daunted by the social and
practical duties of becoming mistress of Pemberley?’

‘Yes, but I believe I might carry them
off by a mixture of improvisation and bluff, which have kept me afloat in the humbler
waters of Hertfordshire.’

He returned her smile. ‘So the problem,
if it exists, lies between ourselves. In time, I will see you as you truly are,
a superficially charming scatterbrain …’

She laughed. ‘And I will you see you as
a highfalutin snob. Which
you
truly are.’

‘If we are both so bad, we deserve one
another.’

‘True, I hadn’t thought of that.’ She
calmed down. ‘Of course there are other factors. You would have to stomach the
mortification of Wickham as a brother-in-law.’

He looked away with an anguished
expression, as if recalling a distressing memory. ‘I would prefer not to invite
your sister to Pemberley, with or without her husband.’

‘On that point I could not agree more.’
She sighed. ‘Am I fretting too much?’

‘On the contrary, there is much in what
you say. Love can indeed be blind, and marriage should be approached as the
Book of Common Prayer demands: reverently, discreetly, advisedly, soberly …’

Elizabeth nodded, relaxing. ‘We are of
one mind, then. A lengthy trip to England awaits. We will take our time, and
see what develops.’